by Marta Perry
Then he’d as much as told her she should drop her friendship with Rosemary, as if Anna were a child who needed his guidance. Or more likely from his viewpoint, a slightly defective Amish woman who couldn’t be trusted to have an English friend without being lured back to that world.
Anna had thought they understood each other. She’d thought he was the one person she could count on for support. Well, she’d been wrong.
Irritation made her yank open the door to the phone shanty. She stepped inside. A plain black phone sat on a rough wooden shelf, a basic answering machine next to it. A blinking light suggested that the owner hadn’t been by to check messages recently.
There was not even a stool to encourage anyone to stay and chat. She put the plastic card on the shelf next to the phone and breathed a silent prayer.
Please, let Liz be there. I need to talk to someone who will understand.
The good Lord must have been listening, because Liz picked up on the second ring. Longing swept through Anna at the sound of her voice. If she could see her right now, sit and talk . . .
“Liz. It’s Annie. I’m so glad you’re home.” Just saying the words made her feel like Annie again.
“Annie, thank goodness.” Liz’s voice fairly leaped through the telephone receiver. “I’ve been going crazy wanting to talk to you. Why haven’t you called?”
Anna skipped over the question, knowing she couldn’t answer it in any way that Liz could understand. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Her heart seemed to pick up speed at the urgency in Liz’s words.
“It’s Pete.” Liz’s voice was controlled, but an effort. “He’s been around again, trying to find out about you and the baby.”
Anna’s heart thudded to her shoes. “Did you talk to him? What has he done?”
“Don’t get excited. Honestly, I thought by this time he’d be long gone, but it hasn’t worked out that way.”
“Liz, I’m so sorry—”
“Now you stop that.” Liz was brisk. “It’s not your fault that idiot has slid over the edge into crazy. If he’d stop pickling his brain with drugs, maybe he could see sense for once.”
Anna found she was pushing the receiver against her head so hard that it hurt. “Did you talk to him? Did he threaten you?”
Liz snorted. “He tried. I’m not scared of a nutcase like him.”
Anna took a breath, trying to focus. Liz wasn’t letting Pete scare her, and she couldn’t either. “What exactly did he say?”
“Just the same as before. He kept saying Gracie was his baby and he wanted her.” Liz snorted again, expressing her opinion of Pete. “I told him he didn’t know a thing about bringing up a baby and never would. I told him he didn’t have a legal leg to stand on.”
“What did he say to that?” The walls of the shanty seemed to be closing in on her, and Anna had to force herself to breathe.
“That he wasn’t counting on the law to get her back. That’s why I had to talk to you, Annie. I had to tell you. I’m afraid that if he finds that baby, he’s going to grab her and take off.”
“He’s not going to find her.” Anna had to be sure of that. She had to. She closed her eyes, searching for the calm that eluded her.
“Annie, listen. When Pete realized he wasn’t going to get anything out of me, he said he didn’t need me anyway. That he’d figured out how to find you without help from anybody.”
An icy hand closed around Anna’s heart. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Gracie . . . She wanted to drop the phone, race home, grab the baby. Run. Run.
She couldn’t. What good would that do, to run mindlessly? Please, Lord. Help me to think.
“Annie? Are you there? I tried to get him to tell me what he meant, but he wouldn’t.”
“Yes. I’m here.” She took a breath. “He was bluffing. He had to be. There’s no possible way he could guess where I am.”
No one in Chicago knew about her past. She’d told no one, just Jannie. Jannie wouldn’t have said anything. If she had told Pete where Anna was from, surely he’d have come after her before this.
“Well, that’s good. But regardless, you need to go to the cops.”
“I don’t think . . .”
“Never mind thinking, just listen to me. Pete’s a convicted felon who signed away his rights to the baby before she was even born. The police will help you. They’ll give you some protection.”
Anna tried to imagine the reaction should an Amish woman go walking into the local police station. This wasn’t an ordinary situation, but if she went to the police, she’d have to tell them everything about Jannie and Pete.
Anna had the legal papers. She could convince them, eventually, but how long would that take? If they made inquiries in Chicago, which they were bound to, her location might slip out.
And sooner or later it would leak out here. How could that help but happen? And her family would know all that she hadn’t told them.
“I can’t.” The words burst out. “I mean, it would just make things worse if people knew. Besides, I’m sure Pete couldn’t know how to find me. We’re safe here.”
Please, Lord, let me be right.
“I still think the cops—”
“I can’t, really.”
Liz was silent for a long moment. Then she sighed. “Well, as long as Pete is wandering around the neighborhood here bothering people, we know he can’t be coming after you. I can try to keep tabs on him, so we’ll know if he sets out on any long trips. But you’ve got to give me a phone number where I can call you if anything happens.”
That was the one thing Anna couldn’t do. “I can’t. I mean, I don’t have a phone.”
“Come on, Annie.” Liz’s voice was laden with disbelief. “What are you doing, living in the dark ages? Everyone has a phone.”
“I don’t. I’m sorry.” She rubbed her temple with the heel of her hand, trying to think.
“You don’t want to give me an address, I suppose. But what about a neighbor? There must be somebody who could pass along a message to you. Don’t you have a landlady or a super?”
There was Rosemary. She could give Liz Rosemary’s number. But if she did, she’d have to tell Rosemary at least something of the truth.
For a second, Samuel’s face formed in Anna’s mind. What did it say about their relationship, if she confided in Rosemary and not in him? Maybe it said he was right in what he feared about her.
Gracie. She had to keep her mind on Gracie, no one else. She took a breath.
“I’ll give you the number of a neighbor. You can trust her with a message for me.”
The ban on telephones, annoying enough when she was a teenager and longed to be in touch with her friends, now seemed monumental. Anna turned the buggy into Joseph’s lane. The horse, knowing the terrain as well as she did, picked up speed as she sensed her barn.
If Anna had called Liz sooner . . .
Still, what good would that have done? It wouldn’t change the facts. Whatever was going on in the recesses of Pete’s mind, he’d apparently become obsessed with the baby he’d never wanted.
Anna had had to give Liz Rosemary’s number, no matter what Samuel thought of her relationship with the neighbor. Rosemary’s telephone represented her only lifeline to Liz. If Pete really did know something about where Anna was, she had to have warning.
She’d intended to stop at Rosemary’s on her way home, but Rosemary hadn’t been there. It was unreasonable to feel so annoyed over that fact. Rosemary couldn’t have known that Anna would need her.
Her hands were cold on the lines, despite the warmth of the day. What had she been thinking, trying to hide Gracie in a place where she couldn’t even call for help in an emergency?
The horse slowed as the buggy neared the end of the lane. Samuel and Matthew appeared in the shop door. The boy ran to the horse’s head while Samuel approached the buggy, looking up at Anna, his face tight.
“Matthew will take care of the horse and buggy for you.” His tone was abrupt. “Komm, pl
ease. I need to talk with you.” He held out a hand to help her down.
She had to yank her thoughts away from Gracie to concentrate on his words.
“In a bit, ja? I must go and check on Gracie first.” She needed to hold her daughter in her arms and feel that she was safe. The need was a physical ache.
“Gracie is napping.” He took her arm, urging her toward the shop. “Myra put her down not half an hour ago. This is important.”
Important. Her mind skittered from one thought to another as she let him lead her to the shop. What would Samuel consider important at this point? Had he glimpsed her buggy approaching Rosemary’s house and decided to lecture her again?
The shop was dim after the bright sunshine outside. Before her eyes could adjust, Samuel turned to her, his figure no more than a dark bulk against the rectangle of light from the doorway.
She took a quick breath. If he thought he could dictate who she saw, he’d better think again.
“It’s Myra.” His voice roughened with emotion. “Anna, you were right about her. We must do something.”
Now Anna saw what was in his face. Fear. He was afraid for Myra.
She reached out, touching his arm. It was like iron under her fingers. His control was holding, but she had a sense that it wasn’t going to last for long.
“All right, tell me. Tell me what happened.”
He sucked in a breath. “She wanted me to put up that crib for her, so I was doing it.”
“Already?” Levi had brought the crib yesterday, but what was the hurry?
“She insisted. She started talking about the baby.” His eyes were dark with misery, and the look tugged at her heart. “Anna, I should have listened to you. I didn’t. I thought I knew better.”
“That doesn’t matter.” She shoved her own worries to the back of her mind. “Tell me what she said. She didn’t try to hurt herself, did she?”
His face went white. “No!” A shudder went through him. “You don’t think she would do that!”
“I don’t, but we have to think of every possibility.”
“There was nothing like that. She seemed happy. Too happy, I thought. And then she started talking about how the doctor was wrong. How she was going to have a perfect baby boy.”
“Ja,” Anna said, her heart sinking. “I was afraid that’s what she was thinking.”
“She’s not accepting it. I thought she was coming to see that whatever happened, it was God’s will. I thought that was why she seemed so calm now.” He sounded as miserable as Anna had ever heard him. “And all the while she was just convincing herself that it wasn’t real.”
“Samuel, you have to understand. This news is just too hard to accept, so she has to make herself believe it isn’t true.” Again Anna thought of Jannie’s pretense that everything was all right.
Samuel shoved his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have seen it. I know Myra better than anyone. Why didn’t I see it?”
“You can’t blame yourself.”
She’d wanted him to understand, but she hated seeing the pain in his face, hearing the blame in his voice. Samuel would fault himself—that was inevitable. He always held himself to a higher standard than anyone else.
“If I had listened to you . . .”
“It wouldn’t have made a bit of difference as far as I can see.” She forced herself to sound brisk. “We have to get Myra to agree to see the counselor. Ja?”
Her attitude seemed to steady him. He took a deep breath, his gaze focusing on her face. “Are you sure this woman can help her?”
“I don’t know, but if she can’t, she’ll work with the doctor to find the answers for Myra. Leah knows this woman. She has every confidence in her.”
“Ja, that’s gut.” The haunted look slid off his face. Given practical steps to take, Samuel would have the strength for it.
“Did you talk to Joseph about what Myra said?”
He shook his head. “He did seem to think something was wrong with her insisting on putting up the crib right away. As for the rest, I waited for you. I thought . . . well, you were the one who saw it first. I thought you would know what to do.”
She nodded, trying to focus on how to handle the situation. “Maybe it would be best if you talked to Joseph about what Myra said to you. I’ll check on her. Then I think I should tell Leah. She might come over and speak to Myra.”
If Anna went to get Leah, she could stop and see Rosemary on the way. That sounded so selfish, but she had to deal with the pressure of her problems, too. The sooner she made arrangements about Liz calling, the better.
“That is the right plan. I’ll see what Joseph thinks. Surely, if we all show Myra how worried we are, she’ll go to see the counselor, even if she thinks she doesn’t need it for herself.”
“Ja. Myra would do anything to keep the people she loves from worrying.”
That was true, wasn’t it? Anna’s thoughts jumped back to her own worries. Not even Myra’s love and caring could help with that.
Fear rushed through her again. Pete. She had to keep Gracie safe. She realized that her fingers were digging into Samuel’s arm.
She let go quickly, pressing her hands together. She had to concentrate on the problem at hand. One thing at a time.
“This is going to be all right, Samuel. Have faith.” She started to turn away.
Samuel took both her hands in a warm, firm grip, preventing her from moving. “Something else is troubling you, Anna. Was ist letz? How can I help?”
“I . . . It is nothing.” Tears stung her eyes. She wouldn’t cry.
His hands enclosed hers, not letting go, and his intent gaze held hers. “It is not nothing, I think. You were already upset when you got home, but I was too caught up in my own worries to see it. Did something happen while you were out?”
“Not exactly.” Her lips were trembling. She clamped them together. She couldn’t break down, not now, not in front of Samuel. “It’s nothing.” She should pull her hands away from his, but she couldn’t. She found too much comfort in his grip.
He lifted her hands, holding them close against his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart.
“I know better, Anna.” He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “Maybe neither of us was ready for this to happen, but it has. We are too close now for you to lie to me. Tell me what is wrong. Let me help you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I want to, but I can’t,” she whispered.
“Ja, you can. Whatever it is, I will try to understand.”
The need to speak flooded through her. “I can’t . . .”
He waited. Just waited, his hands pressing hers against his solid chest.
She choked back the tears. “You can’t help. No one can.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “It’s Gracie’s father. He’s looking for us. He wants to take her away from me.”
Samuel stood motionless as he struggled to accept and understand Anna’s words. He should respond quickly, but he couldn’t. That was not his way.
He focused on her face, seeing the mixture of torment and rebellion in her eyes. “I don’t understand. You told us the father didn’t want the baby.”
“He didn’t.” She almost spat out the words. “He couldn’t wait to sign the papers giving up his rights. She wasn’t even born yet, and he already knew he didn’t want her.”
“Then what has happened?” Samuel felt the impatience running through her, and he held her hands firmly in his, sensing that if he didn’t, she would run away. “Help me to understand.”
“How can I, when I don’t understand it myself? He didn’t contact Jannie when the baby was born. He didn’t come to Jannie’s funeral. Then he turned up a year later, suddenly deciding he wanted the baby.” The anger in her voice slid away to a tremor. “It was as if Gracie was a toy he’d forgotten about for a while and then remembered.”
“I’m sorry. So sorry.” Whatever the right or wrong of it, Anna was hurting, and Samuel longed
to make that better. “What kind of man could not want his own child?”
But even as he said the words they were bitter on his tongue. His own father had been able to walk away from his children without a backward glance.
Anna turned away from him, as if he’d said the wrong thing, rubbing her hands on her arms as if she were cold. “I’m sure there are plenty of men who don’t want to be fathers. And Pete has been scrambling his brains with drugs for years. I doubt he could form a thought about what it means to be a father.”
“Poor man.”
She spun, anger flaring in her eyes. “Poor man? What about all the people he’s hurt? He doesn’t just use drugs himself. He sells them. He knocked Jannie around for as long as they were together. The night he came and tried to take Gracie—” She stopped abruptly, wrapping her arms around herself.
“He tried to take her away from you?” Samuel’s blood chilled at the thought. “Anna, what happened? You weren’t hurt?”
She took an audible breath, pressing her fingers tight against her arms. “I didn’t have any warning. Just opened the door and there he was. He barged in before I could react, yelling, demanding that I produce the baby. Thank heaven she was asleep.” Her voice trembled a little on the words.
“You had no one to help you?” His heart pained him at the thought of her facing that alone.
She shook her head. “I tried to talk sense to him, reminding him that he’d signed away his rights to her, but I don’t think he even heard me. He was high on something, his eyes wild. When I wouldn’t produce Gracie, he tried to go after her. We struggled. He hit me, knocked me down.” She spread her fingers against her ribs, as if remembering the pain. “I couldn’t have stopped him.”
Samuel’s own hands clenched into fists. He couldn’t raise them against another human being, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to. Forgive me, Father.
“What happened? How did you get away?”
“The neighbors heard what was going on. They rushed in, hustled him out. They called the police.” A tremor went through her. “They said I should go in the next day and file a complaint against him, but I didn’t. I packed our things and ran.”