* * *
“But it’s not safe!” she said. “What if Doppel-Dex is still stalking Hope’s Creek? What if he recognizes you?”
He shrugged. “That’s risk I need to take. But I don’t think he will. He doesn’t seem focused on finding me, just you.”
He tried to pull away from her arm, but still she could feel her heels digging into the snow. “Wait! I want to stay with you. I don’t want us to split up and either of us go off alone.”
“I know,” he said. “But I can’t be by your side every hour of the day, and you were supposed to be assigned to a new agent soon. Miriam, Mark and Rosie will stay home today. If they see anyone coming, they’ll hide you in the cold cellar. Trust me. I won’t be gone long, and you will be safer staying here than coming into town.”
How could she trust she was safe somewhere without electricity or even a telephone?
Lord, You brought me here. Help me trust in You.
It was hours before Jonathan and Amos left to go into town. She didn’t know quite how long or even how to tell time without incessantly glancing at her phone. But it was long enough that she was able to play with the barn kittens, pat the horses and then get a long explanation on how cows and pigs had to be kept at opposite ends of the barn because, as Samuel put it, they “weren’t friends.” Then it was a trip to the henhouse to meet David’s favorite chickens. When she returned to the farmhouse, Miriam taught her how to bake fresh bread for lunch, before taking her on a tour of the pantry and cold cellar to choose pickles and preserves for lunch.
It wasn’t until the sun had already crested the sky and started its descent into the afternoon that Jonathan pulled her into his arms, gave her a long hug and the promise he’d be back soon, then climbed into the buggy with Amos and left. Celeste sat on a chair in the living room by the fire and watched the sky long after they’d gone.
For a while Miriam and Rosie sat with her in the living room. Rosie was knitting what seemed to be a long, thick scarf and Miriam was sewing a quilt for the new baby. Celeste sat, listening to the quiet rustle of fabric and clicking of needles as conversation flowed gently between them like a three-part harmony. They spoke about their farm, the foods they’d grown for the winter and their faith.
The two other women excused themselves to go upstairs, but when Celeste got up to follow they waved her down. She wasn’t sure if they wanted her to rest or wanted to talk privately without her. Either way, she thanked them and stayed, enjoying the peaceful crackle of the fire, the rustle of the trees outside and the occasional clopping of a buggy going past. After a while a large cat, orange and impossibly soft, appeared at Celeste’s feet and, after rubbing around her ankles, leaped up, curled onto her lap and nudged her hand. She ran her fingers through his long fur, feeling the deep rumble of his purr in her fingertips.
The front door creaked. She looked up to see a short man with a wide-brimmed hat and a long white beard stepping over the threshold.
“I’m Eli Mast,” he said. He took off his hat. “I’m not sure if you remember, but we met last night?”
“Yes! Hello!” The memory was fuzzy and yet she knew there was something about the old man that both then and now made her feel safe. She’d started to rise when he waved her back down.
“No, sit,” he said, “Zeb doesn’t like most people and is very particular about who he chooses to sit with. If he’s decided to sit on you, he must have decided you’re something special.”
He hung his hat on a peg by the door and settled into a chair. But it wasn’t until his blue eyes, filled with a strength and wisdom that belied his age, fixed on her that she saw the resemblance between father and son. They sat without speaking for a while, watching the flames dance against the wood.
“So, you are the woman who brought my son home to me,” he said.
A sudden flush of heat rose to her cheeks and she raised her hands to cover it. No! It wasn’t like that at all. Oh, how to explain it?
“I’m a witness in an important court case involving computers,” she said slowly. “And your son Jonathan is a US marshal whose job it is to protect me.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “You used the internet to solve a bank robbery and now the robber is using the internet to get people to come after you.”
She felt her lips part slightly in surprise and closed them quickly before it showed. “That’s pretty much it, yes.”
“I know the outward circumstances of what brought you here,” he said. He ran his hand down his long beard. He spoke quietly, like someone who knew he was nearing the end of his life and was trying to make every word matter. “But the Lord isn’t about outward circumstances now, is He?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe He is.”
“I’ve been praying for a long time that Gott would return my son to me at the proper time. Now you’re here.”
Yes, that was what she wanted to believe to. That God had brought her here. That this house, this home and his family were part of God’s plan. And that somehow, in some way, God’s plan included Jonathan—the handsome, amazing and broken man her heart was being drawn to deeper and deeper the more time they spent together. Did she risk hoping for that? And what if she did give her heart over to hope, and that hope was dashed and her heart was broken?
How would Eli feel when his prodigal son retrieved his gun and left again? How would she feel when she left this place, and went with Stacy to settle into her life in the city and never saw Jonathan again?
“You don’t believe God directs our lives?” Eli asked.
Oh, how could he be asking her that at the very moment when she was so close to having everything she’d ever wanted and yet knowing it could never be hers?
“I believe that God has a plan for my life,” she said. “I believe God is calling me somewhere. But if it has anything to do with my being here, I don’t see how.”
The man nodded, and for a long moment he didn’t say anything. Then, when he’d paused so long she thought he’d drifted off or given up the conversation, he said, “My grandsons told me they showed you my garden today.”
“They did.” It was one of many things they’d pointed out to her while running down the path.
“See any potatoes, did you?” he asked. “Or carrots? How about pumpkins?”
There was a twinkle in his eye that hinted at the younger man he’d once been.
Celeste found herself smiling. “No, all I saw was snow.”
“But still you believe there was something planted under the icy ground that would grow there in the spring?”
Her smile grew wider. “Why, yes, I believe I do.”
Where was he going with this? Before she could ask, the front door opened. Amos came in, shaking the snow off his boots, then David and Samuel rushed toward him, followed by Miriam just two steps behind them. The boys ran to greet Eli, and she smiled as he turned his smiling eyes toward his two young grandsons. The cat leaped from her lap. She stood up and stretched, excused herself from the happy babble of conversation and walked into the kitchen.
Yes, Lord, I can easily believe that there’s a garden underneath that snow. That the trees will bud come springtime and that apples will grow in the fall. That corn, potatoes and wheat are going to burst out of the ground. What do You want me to take from that, Lord?
The kitchen door opened slowly. She spun. It was Jonathan, snow covering his hat and dusting his broad shoulders. There was a cardboard box in his hands, large and damp from the snow. They stood there for a long moment, looking at each other, her lips not even knowing what words to form.
“You’re back,” she said.
“I am,” he said. He knocked the snow from his boots and crossed the kitchen floor. “I brought you something.”
He set the box down on the table, then stopped, pulled off his hat and hung it up by the door. She pulled the lid back. It was
printer paper from an old-model dot-matrix like she’d had back in early childhood, with little holes down each side of the page from where they’d attached to the printer, and the pages connected at the bottom, end over end in one long, endless stream. She lifted the first page out. Her fingers slid over the tiny letters and numbers, almost unable to believe what she was seeing. “It’s Dexter Thomes’s code.”
“Yup.” He pulled off his gloves and set them on the table. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another with the same nervous stance of a boy who’d brought a girl flowers. “Amos had an old printer in the shop that had been donated and was considered too old for anyone to use. The system was so old I didn’t even know if it would work. I printed as many pages as I could before we ran out of paper and ink. But it’s a start.”
“It’s amazing, thank you.” Her fingers ran down the page, her mind coming alive like a computer booting to life. “I can definitely start on this. And who knows, maybe by the time Dexter Thomes’s court date comes...”
“That’s the other thing I have to tell you.” He crossed the space between them and reached for her hands. She set the paper down and let him take them. They stood there with his hands holding hers for a long moment. She looked down at their linked fingers. There was something so natural and comfortable about it. Was Eli right? Had something been planted? Was this part of God’s plan?”
“Dexter’s lawyer has launched an appeal based on the fact somebody has Poindexter’s website up and running. His lawyers are trying to claim that means you identified the wrong man.”
“That’s impossible.” She shook her head. For a moment, her fingers started to pull away from his.
“I know.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “But it means you have to be in court in a little under four weeks to testify against him.”
Four weeks? The words hit her like a punch to the gut. But the trial hadn’t been scheduled until March.
“There is no way I’ll be able to analyze all of Dexter’s data that fast. Not without access to the internet. And if I go into the court case blind, without having proved where the money went, there’s too big a risk he’ll be let go and set free.” And something told her that if that happened he’d never stop looking for her and she’d be in hiding forever. “How will I even find time to work on all this data if I’m busy settling into a new life in witness protection? Stacy will barely have time to help me integrate into my new life before I’m yanked back out again to go to court.”
Unexpected tears rushed to her eyes as frustration and sadness battled with the sheer exhaustion of the past few days. Would she even have the same cover life before and after the trial? Or would she have four weeks in one strange place before turning around and starting over again somewhere new?
And just how many hours will it be before Stacy arrives and I have to say goodbye to this place and to you forever?
His fingers brushed the tears away, tracing the lines of her face and tilting her head with her tear-filled eyes up to meet his.
“I can’t help you with the data,” he said, his voice deep with emotion in a way she’d never heard it before. “Hunter will not budge one iota about you going online or having access to electronic devices, even if I’d been open to it, which I’m not. But I do have what I hope is good news. I talked to Hunter, Stacy and Karl, and we’ve all agreed. The safest place for you is someplace where no electronic device, cell phone or security camera can find you. We’re delaying settling you into your new life in Pittsburgh until after the trial. You’re going to spend the next four weeks living here, like the Amish, with me and my family. What do you say?”
THIRTEEN
Happiness filled Celeste’s heart like a cherry blossom tree bursting into bloom. Suddenly she found herself throwing her arms around Jonathan. She hugged him hard. For a second she felt him resist, like he wasn’t sure what to do. Then she felt his arms, strong and warm around her, pulling her close and holding him to her. And for a long moment she just stood there, thankful for his embrace, thankful they weren’t about to be separated and thankful for him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean...” she started, not quite able to believe she’d just thrown her arms around him like that, or that he’d responded and hugged her just as tightly. She let her arms fall to her side and stepped back. He loosened his grip on her body, but to her surprise, he didn’t let her go completely. Instead, he stood there with his hands resting gently and protectively on her lower hips. “Ever since I found the code that traced back to Dexter Thomes and proved he’d stolen the money, everything in my life has been such chaos. It’s like I’ve been tossed and thrown around in a hurricane never knowing what’s going to happen from one second to the next. The idea I could actually spend the next few weeks somewhere peaceful, quiet and safe with people like these...”
And a man like you...
Her voice trailed off. It was the closest thing to joy she’d felt in a long time. Temporary happiness, she reminded herself. Still, she’d enjoy it every moment that God allowed it to her.
“Are you sure it’s okay with your family?” she asked.
He nodded. “I asked them first. I will use a series of disposable cell phones to check in with Hunter and Karl. I’ll only check and send texts outside the home, and they’ll only call in case of an emergency. I’m going to move into the grossdaadi house with Pa. You will stay in Mark’s room, and he will move in with his brothers. Pa invited him to stay with us, but he’s conflicted about that. I understand. He’s pretty protective. But between the new baby coming and Pa getting older, Amos and Miriam need a lot of help around the farm. They see us being here, even for a few weeks, as an unlikely answer to prayer.”
“So, you know about the baby?” Celeste asked.
“Yup, I was so excited when Amos told me. I love babies.”
She smiled. Her hands slipped up and rested on his arms, and they stood there for a long moment, holding each other lightly while the noise and bustle of the busy Amish farmhouse echoed from rooms in every direction. His dark eyes searched her face, and there was a depth to his gaze like a series of books he only just begun to open up to her, but which she’d now have countless long days and nights to read. Then he let go of her and she stepped back. He ran his hand over his jaw.
“Not sure I’m all that thrilled about having to shave, but only married Amish men have beards.”
She laughed, happiness bubbling up inside her. Thank You, God! She and Jonathan would actually have a few short weeks together before they had to finally say goodbye.
* * *
Late-January sunshine streamed through her bedroom window, but the morning chorus of birds had barely begun to reach Celeste’s ears when it was overtaken by the sound of a door slamming shut. She sat up. Her heart beat hard in her chest as fear poured like freezing cold water over the gentle warm glow she’d woken up in every morning for the past two weeks.
What’s happening, Lord? Have Dexter’s minions found us? Do we need to run?
Shoving back the quilt, she pulled herself to her knees and looked out the window, just in time to see Mark stride across the field. She sighed. Knowing him, he’d run out the door in a rush, slammed the door by accident and now felt embarrassed about it. But as she watched him stop by the fence, catch a breath and drop his head as if to pray, there was no mistaking the way his shoulders dropped and how emotion racked his frame.
She dropped back down onto the bed as her pulse raced and her heart ached. Mark seemed to love God and his family in a such a raw, genuine and protective way.
While the rest of the family had embraced their decision to hide her, Mark still wasn’t at peace with it. It was like the young man couldn’t bring himself to trust Jonathan or to shake the worry that his uncle was going to hurt Amos and Eli again. She couldn’t even say he was wrong.
What am I doing here, Lord? I love being here so much and I’m really growi
ng to care for this family. But they’ve all seen so much pain already and I don’t want to ever cause them any more.
The last few days living with Jonathan’s family on the farm had been like living inside a greater peace and happiness than she’d ever dreamed of. She’d awoken most mornings to Rosie at her door, asking if she needed help getting dressed. Then there were the daily trips to the barn with David and Samuel to collect eggs, milk the cows and feed the animals, and long multicourse meals with the family. She’d spent hours with Rosie and Miriam learning how to sew, cook and speak some words of Pennsylvania Dutch, while Jonathan was out with Amos and Eli, slowly repairing their relationship while they worked side by side.
At night she’d sit quietly by the fire, going over Dexter’s code with a pencil and eraser, looking up to see Jonathan’s keen eyes on her face as she slowly found and unraveled the patterns that she saw, in the hopes of finding something before the trial. Day by day, the tension that she’d gotten so used to living with faded from her limbs, along with that nagging headache no pill had been able to rid her of.
Yet, like a small jarring rock in the bottom of her shoe, she’d never been able to shake the knowledge that one day soon she and Jonathan would be leaving.
The knock on her door was lighter and more timid than usual.
“Come in.” Celeste swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Rosie’s face was pale. “What’s wrong?”
“Papa found Mark with a cell phone,” Rosie said. “He said he took it from the store because he wanted to find out if Jonathan was telling the truth about you.”
* * *
Jonathan stood in the kitchen, watching through the window as his nephew disappeared into the fields. The memory of having been the one to explode in anger and take off running in that very direction burned a little too acutely in his memory.
“What did he find?” he asked. Anger burned like hot coals in the pit of his core. He wasn’t even sure who or what it was he was upset at. He’d known things might be tense with his family when he’d decided to hide Celeste here. But he’d assumed that they’d protect her and keep her safe. The discovery that Mark had a secret contraband cell phone had shot a worrying hole through that. “Tell me he didn’t let anyone know where she was.”
Amish Hideout (Amish Witness Protection Book 1) Page 13