An Unexpected Match

by Gayle Roper

  “Don’t!” Rachel reached out to stop him. “He’s too upset for a stranger to handle him.”

  But it was too late. Rusty reared. When his front hooves came down, one landed on Mr. Sherman’s brightly polished loafer. The man’s roar of pain turned the horse rigid with shock.

  Chapter 43

  Johnny frowned as Bagel’s barking increased in volume.

  “The buggy’s gone, dog. Stop it!”

  Bagel’s bark turned to a whine as he looked over his shoulder at Johnny.

  “Quiet!” The dream of getting his own beagle was fast fading as the dog began to really irritate him. “Get down and shut up.”

  Bagel jumped from his perch, and Johnny thought for a moment the dog was obeying. Walking beagles with Amy burst into a full color vision again.

  Instead the dog raced to the front door where he began scratching and whining. He looked at Johnny, then back at the door. He went up on his hind legs, distress in every line of his quivering body as his feet scored the wood.

  “What’s the matter, Lassie? Timmy fall into the well?” He enjoyed his little joke based on the old Lassie reruns he liked laughing at.

  Johnny went to the window and looked out. He actually fell back a step when he saw what the dog was barking about. Thomas with a gun, Rachel in his grasp, Rusty rearing. And Mr. Sherman’s angry screams turning to ones of pain as Rusty stepped on him.

  Johnny paused only long enough to grab the fireplace poker. Then he threw open the front door and rushed out. Bagel flew past him, down the steps, and into the street, barking at full volume.

  “Leave her alone!” Johnny yelled as he raced toward the chaos. “Leave her alone!”

  Max Englerth heard yelling in the brief lull between commercials on the football game. She was glad for the distraction. Her team was losing pretty badly. She glanced out the window in time to see Johnny Miller race by waving a poker. What in the world? Johnny wasn’t the most stable of young men, but a poker?

  She leaned forward for a better view and saw the buggy and the car blocking it. Then she saw a furious man with a gun manhandling Rachel.

  Max grabbed her phone and hit 911.

  “Man with a gun!” she yelled before the woman who answered had time to say, “911. What is your emergency?”

  Max raced to the front door and threw it open. She didn’t know what she could do to help Rachel, but there must be something. “Man with a gun!”

  She stopped, reversed course, and ran to her son’s room. She threw open his closet door and grabbed his baseball bat. It felt heavy in her hand as she gave a little swing. A good thunk on the head would definitely hurt. She smiled in anticipation.

  “I know, Buddy. I know. Dumb as dumb. But I have to do something! It’s Rachel.”

  She could almost hear him yelling, “Max, a gun trumps a bat any day of the week. Stay inside and wait for the cops!”

  But she couldn’t cower inside, peering out the window like some frightened old lady. She just couldn’t. She could at least give Johnny some support, offer Rachel some hope.

  Rob made the last turn onto Rachel’s road. He needed her quiet and gentle manner after his father’s abrasive and critical one. He wanted to sit at the table with her and eat meat loaf and plan their future. He wanted—

  He blinked. Johnny was racing down the middle of the street waving a poker. And a woman was running out of her house waving a baseball bat. Both were yelling like banshees. Racing ahead of them, Bagel barked and snarled.

  But the sight that chilled him to the core was the man with a gun. Thomas, the one who’d held Johnny in the parking lot. Even as the man grabbed for the bobbing and weaving Rusty, he had his gun trained on Rachel.

  Rob’s heart stuttered. All those times in the field expecting an IED with every mile, every step, he hadn’t been this terrified, not even when the Humvee in front of his exploded and sent shrapnel flying right at him or when he and his men were pinned down by snipers firing on them from nearby rooftops. He could take danger to him and his men. They had asked for it by joining up. But Rachel?

  As if the scene in front of him wasn’t bad enough, rounding a curve in the road beyond Rachel and Thomas was a buggy driven by a man with a long white beard, a man he knew, a man whose daughter he planned to marry.

  What would happen if Mr. and Mrs. Miller and their family drove up to Thomas? The man was clearly unstable to be waving a gun around on a public street.

  I’m coming, babe! Hang in there! I’m coming!

  He pushed the gas pedal and sped toward the scene.

  Chapter 44

  Rachel watched in horror as Johnny raced down the street toward her brandishing a poker above his head like an old knight swinging a broadsword.

  “Let her alone,” he screamed. “Let her alone! We’ve got the money. I’ve got the money.”

  Racing in front of him, charging at full speed as he barked and growled, came Bagel.

  “Shoot the dog!” ordered Mr. Sherman, his voice a croak as he held onto the car door for support with his unbitten hand.

  For a minute Rachel had thought Rusty was going to play the rein game with Mr. Sherman’s foot, but apparently he realized he had something too bulky under his foot to keep his weight on it. He shifted a bit and Mr. Sherman was free.

  “Shoot him, Thomas! No dog’s going to bite me! Shoot the horse too! Now!”

  Thomas turned first to the fast advancing Bagel with his gun raised.

  “No!” Rachel turned cold all over. “Don’t!” Amy would be devastated if anything happened to the dog. Rachel reached for Thomas’s raised arm and managed to bump his elbow.

  Thomas pulled the trigger.

  The percussive roar was sharp and deafening. It terrified Rusty. He screamed and reared again, his hooves flailing once again above Mr. Sherman who fell back into the car to escape the potentially lethal iron shoes.

  “Get away from me! Get away!” he screamed.

  Bagel kept running but Rachel watched in horror as Johnny went down. It was like watching slow motion as first his mouth opened in surprise. Then he went to his knees, then his hands, his face. The poker fell uselessly to the ground.“Johnny! No!” She lunged toward him, but Thomas grabbed her around the waist. He pulled her back against him.

  “Let me go!” She twisted and struggled to get free.

  Bagel came at Thomas with teeth bared. Thomas tried to aim, but the dog was too close. If he pulled the trigger, he could shoot himself in the foot. Instead he kicked, but Bagel was too quick. He darted away, then raced back, growling and snapping.

  Rachel drove an elbow back into Thomas’s midsection, hoping that with his attention on Bagel, he’d loosen his grip on her. She needed to get to Johnny. If he had been shot like she feared, it was her fault. Her attempt to save Bagel had skewed Thomas’s aim.

  Her elbow did nothing to Thomas but bump into ribs. Aside from an “umph,” Thomas kept his strong grip about her middle.

  “Forget her,” Mr. Sherman yelled from the car. “It’s Johnny we want!”

  Rachel looked over her shoulder at Thomas in the same instant he looked down at her. Their eyes locked. Then he gave her a stiff shove. She fell, hitting the ground hard. For a moment she lay stunned, her hands burning from the scrapes made sliding on the pavement, her knees throbbing from the slam into the road, her breath compromised from hitting hard on the unforgiving ground.

  Bagel abandoned Thomas and rushed to her. He licked her face, then rushed back to attack Thomas. This time, with Thomas concentrating on Johnny, he connected with Thomas’s leg, his teeth finding traction through the denim.

  Thomas roared and whirled to try to dislodge the dog. He stumbled against the buggy, and the jarring knocked Bagel lose. The dog dodged under the buggy and growled. Thomas cursed at Bagel but turned away toward Johnny.

  Rachel caught her breath and pushed herself to her knees in time to see Thomas aim once again. It seemed he was shooting too high to hit her brother, still prone in the middle of
the street. Kneeling beside him, trying to help him, was Max, her bat rolling into the little ditch running beside the road.

  “No!” She threw herself at Thomas’s legs as another percussive crack shattered the afternoon.

  Chapter 45

  Rob saw first Johnny, then Rachel, go down. In that moment he understood David’s imprecatory psalms as never before and he cried out an inarticulate call for God to save them.

  He narrowed his eyes in a combination of anger that someone dared hurt his Rachel and determination to get to her as quickly as possible.

  He drove straight toward Thomas who finally seemed to notice a car racing down the street at him. He braced himself, legs spread, gun held steady as he drew a bead on Rob.

  Rob didn’t falter. Let the man shoot him. If Rachel had a chance to survive this chaos, he would give it to her. As she would to him, he thought as she lunged at Thomas’s legs. Rob was filled with pride at her bravery and her pluck.

  Thomas staggered a bit as she hit him, and the gun fired. Rob’s windshield starred, and he heard the bullet swhoop as it plowed through the passenger seat.

  Thomas instinctively took a couple of steps backward as Rob hurtled toward him. Rob waited for a second shot as he closed the distance, hunching as low over the wheel as he could to make himself a difficult target.

  Instead of the whine of a bullet he heard Rusty whinny as the horse twisted in panic. No doubt the loud noise of the shot had terrified him.

  The horse, eyes wide with terror, opened his mouth and showed his fearsome teeth. He bit hard at the closest thing—Thomas’s shoulder. Rob could hear Thomas’s screams through his closed windows.

  Any possibility of another shot was forgotten as the gun fell uselessly to the ground as Thomas tried to pull away from the panicked animal.

  Grabbing onto a wheel of the buggy, Rachel pulled herself to her feet, taking care to stay away from the flailing Rusty. She kicked the gun into the ditch.

  Rob grinned. Good girl.

  Rachel, still afraid of what might come next, raced around to the far side of the buggy and jumped across the little ditch, calling to Bagel, crouching under the buggy, to come to her.

  Rob screeched to a halt with his car making the third side of a neat triangle comprised of the horse and buggy, Thomas’s car, and his SUV. Thomas was neatly trapped in the middle.

  “He bit me! He bit me!” Thomas stared in pained disbelief at his shoulder with its torn sleeve, flowing blood, and horse saliva, then turned white and slid down the side of his car to sit on the ground.

  Rob threw the gearshift into park and then flung open his car door

  “Rachel!”

  “Here.” She jumped back across the ditch and rounded the back of the buggy. She ran toward him full tilt.

  Rob grabbed her and held her close, reassuring himself she was in one piece. “Seeing that gun aimed at you—” He let the sentence dangle as he shuddered. “Are you okay? Really okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she told him as she patted his chest. “Just a little sore.” He covered her hand with his to still it. The last thing he wanted was to feel like Bagel being soothed.

  “Johnny.” She looked toward her brother. Rob felt her relax as she saw her brother was now sitting in the middle of the road holding his jaw, Max kneeling beside him.

  When Rachel heard Rob calling her name, she thought she’d never heard anything sweeter. She now rested her head softly on his shoulder, his arms around her.

  Johnny stood and began limping toward her, Max at his side helping support him. Rachel felt a great wash of relief. He hadn’t been shot. Her actions hadn’t harmed him.

  A wet nose nudged her leg and she looked down at Bagel. She rubbed his head. “Hey, boy. You did good.”

  He preened for a moment, then went over to Rusty and began to bark.

  “No, Bagel!” As usual he ignored her as he dodged Rusty’s shuffling feet.

  Rob grabbed Bagel by his collar and hauled him away from the poor horse. He pulled his belt from about his waist and looped it around Bagel’s collar. He held out the end to Rachel.

  “You’ve got a better chance than anyone to quiet him.”

  That was a debatable comment, but she took the belt and tugged the dog close. Bagel surprised her by sitting nicely at her side.

  “Rachel! What is going on here?” Datt appeared from somewhere.

  “Datt! You won’t believe—”

  “What is wrong with Johnny?”

  “Hey, Datt.” Johnny limped to join them beside the buggy, walking on the ball of his right foot and putting very little pressure on that foot. He had a pained expression with every other step. He had his arm about Max’s shoulders and her arm was about his waist to help bear his weight.

  “You’re limping.” Datt frowned his concern.

  “Twisted my ankle. Stepped on a stone. I heard it pop.” He shuddered.

  Rachel looked down. Johnny had rolled his jeans up a bit, and she could see his ankle was already swelling.

  “He needs ice. I’m going to get him some,” Max said. “You need to sit, Johnny. Get your weight off the injury.”

  “Here.” Rob opened the door to the backseat of his car. “In here.”

  Johnny hopped over and sat.

  “Leg up on the seat,” Max ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

  Johnny leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Mom climbed in beside him and took his hand.

  “You will be all right.” She blinked back tears as she watched her prodigal son. “You will be all right. You’ll see.”

  “Who is that man?” Datt pointed at the sitting Thomas, his head resting against his car door. His face, filmed with perspiration, was white with pain and anger. Rachel could imagine the throbbing in his shoulder keeping time with his heartbeat.

  “His name is Thomas,” Rachel said. “I don’t know his last name.”

  “And that one?” He pointed at Mr. Sherman who had slid behind the steering wheel of his car. When he patted the ignition and found no key, he tried to climb out the far side of the vehicle. He took one step on his injured foot and fell, moaning in pain. Rachel knew all the bones of his foot must be in little pieces after Rusty’s stomp.

  “That’s Mr. Sherman. He’s a bad guy. They’re both bad guys, Datt. Very bad guys.”

  He leaned in with worried eyes and said softly and for her ears only, “Johnny’s friends?”

  Rachel shook her head. “You should have seen him, Datt. You’d have been proud. He was going to protect me.” She decided not to mention they were planning to buy his way out of trouble and her doubts that he would remain trouble-free.

  Datt looked at Johnny who looked like he was asleep in the backseat beside Mom. “Really?”

  Max reappeared with a plastic bag filled with ice that she took to Johnny. As she draped a kitchen towel over his ankle and topped it with the ice, he flinched but otherwise didn’t move.

  The sirens grew louder and the police turned into the street, lights flashing. Rusty became agitated all over again.

  “Levi!” Datt called. “Take care of the horse.”

  An eager Levi ran to Rusty. In no time he had calmed the distraught horse.

  “He’s like a horse whisperer,” Datt told Rob.

  And just like that, Rachel thought, a reasonable facsimile of a Sabbath calm returned—if you overlooked the police cars and ambulances and men handcuffed to their gurneys.

  Chapter 46

  You’re sure he’s going to be all right?” Rachel asked the EMT who checked out Johnny.

  “He’ll be fine,” the EMT assured her. “Just a twist, not a break in the ankle, is my guess.”

  “I’m not fine.” Johnny shook his hands to dry the disinfectant sprayed on them. “I hurt! A lot.”

  Rachel looked at the bruise already forming on his jaw from the collision with the ground, and she knew how her own palms and knees stung from being sprayed. He also had his twisted ankle. Poor Johnny.

  “How
’d you do it?” the EMT asked.

  “I hit a stone, and bam! My ankle gave way and I went down. Hard! I heard it pop!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The EMT was unimpressed by his story or at least by his “poor me” attitude. “Believe me, a bullet would have hurt a lot more and I understand there were some fired here today. And I’ll say again you should go to the hospital to get checked out. Get an X-ray.”

  Johnny shook his head, stubborn to the end, but he stopped complaining and tried to look brave when he saw Amy watching him, her face full of sympathy, Bagel on his belt lead at her side. She had arrived shortly after the action was over.

  Rusty stood trembling but still as Levi stroked his neck and talked softly to him.

  Mr. Sherman lay on a stretcher, his foot elevated and wrapped in cold packs. The wrist of his unbitten hand was cuffed to his gurney. He whimpered quietly as he waited for his ride to the hospital and surgery for a crushed foot. His hand would be sore for some time, but apparently Rusty hadn’t broken anything with that bite. What the justice system would do with the man was yet to be determined, but when he left the hospital, he wouldn’t be going home.

  “We’ll need you to give us an official statement,” the policeman told her.

  Rachel nodded. “Johnny and I will come in tomorrow.”

  “What? Me?” Johnny tore his eyes from Amy and looked at Rachel with something like fear. “He didn’t try to grab me.”

  Rachel just stared at her brother, disappointment at his response welling in her. There had been that one flash of courage, of being honorable when he tried to come to her rescue. Was that all there was in him?

  He squirmed and looked away. “Oh. You mean that other thing.”

  “What other thing?” the officer asked.

  “What other thing?” Rob whispered in her ear.

  Rachel said nothing and waited.

  “What other thing?” the officer repeated, fixing Johnny with a steely eye.