Plain Secrets

by Kit Wilkinson

  “He was after the money, Hannah. That is always what they want. He will not come back. You are safe now.”

  Hannah wanted to scream out her frustration, but the arrival of a horse and buggy in front of the house put an end to the conversation.

  Hannah glanced through the kitchen window. A woman dressed in a maroon frock and white apron descended the vehicle.

  “Is Nana expecting a visitor?” she said.

  Thomas shrugged. A light rap sounded at the front door. Hannah moved quickly to open the latch.

  “Guten Morgan, Hannah Nolt. Wie gehts?” Abigail Miller looked as bright and cheerful as the morning sun itself. Her peppy voice washed through the room and Hannah allowed herself to smile for the first time that day.

  “Come in, Miss Miller. Please. How nice to see you.” Hannah opened the door wider so that Elijah’s younger sister could enter.

  “I have come to see my brother. He is here, ain’t so?” She was nearly giddy with excitement.

  “He is,” Hannah said. “Or at least he was last night. I have not seen him this morning.”

  Thomas grumbled from the kitchen. Hannah felt her cheeks heat up. Abigail continued to smile, seemingly oblivious of the tension in the room until she moved closer to take a look at the lump on Hannah’s forehead. “Oh dear, Hannah, your head. What has happened?”

  “I’m afraid it looks much worse than it is.” Hannah backed away. All she needed was one more person asking questions. “Thomas, could you tell Elijah that he has a visitor?”

  “So he is still sleeping, is he?” Abigail smiled.

  “Nope, I’m right here.” Elijah stepped into the kitchen. His eyes fell softly on her. Hannah tried hard to be indifferent at the sight of him. Not that he cared or would have noticed the thrill he gave her. All too quickly, he looked away to his sister, grinning like a child with a new puppy.

  Thomas stood from the table, took his hat from its peg on the wall and backed up to the kitchen door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Enjoy your morning. I’ll return in time to head to the Millers’ for the harvest this afternoon. Good day.”

  * * *

  What? A harvest gathering at his family’s place? That was exactly what Eli had hoped to avoid. Although seeing his sister there so happy to see him gave him great joy.

  “Abby.” He came forward and gave her a hug.

  “You are just as I imagined,” she teased.

  “I hope not.” He brushed a hand through his bed-head hair and made a wide-eyed face. For certain, he needed a few more hours’ sleep and a shave. The Amish might not talk about outward appearances, but one as bad as his could hardly escape their notice. “You look well yourself, Abigail. So glad you’re here. How is everyone? Mamm? Elizabeth?” He looked down before adding, “Dat?”

  “Come see for yourself? I came just so. To invite you to cousin John’s. Today we pick his strawberries. He has so many this year he decided to have a gathering to bring them in. I’ll give you a ride myself if you like.”

  Eli shook his head. “No way. That is a terrible idea and you know it.”

  “And why is it a terrible idea?” Hannah asked. “I’m sure all of your family would like to see you.”

  “You’re wrong about that. Dat said he never wanted to see me again, and unless I hear otherwise I’m not going to face him. It will be a disaster.”

  “Oh, come, now, Elijah. You are overreacting.” Abigail gave him a disapproving glare.

  “Am I?” Elijah frowned and tried not to resent the way his sister reminded him that he alone was the outcast child. How was it that Abigail had not yet joined the church and still lived among the People when he so much as mentioned the police academy and was instantly disowned? “I don’t think so.”

  Hannah came back to the table with a cup of coffee for each of them. She served them and stood back from the table. “You should go, Elijah. Many will be there and among them most of Jessica’s friends. You could ask them about the night before she died…if they had seen her, where they had been.”

  “So that is why you have come home?” Abigail was wide-eyed. “To ask questions about poor Jessica?”

  “Yes,” he answered, thinking over Hannah’s words. It was true. He needed to talk to the community, especially Jessica’s friends. But seeing his family was a bad idea. Not to mention that it would be hard to protect Hannah there. “No, I’m not going and neither are you, Hannah. It could be dangerous for you to be out in the open all day like that.”

  “Why would Hannah be in danger?” Abigail asked, looking confused. “What harm could come to her from a simple gathering?”

  “It is of no consequence,” Hannah replied.

  Elijah frowned. This pattern of secrecy was going too far, making her actively ignore the danger she was in. But he wouldn’t embarrass Hannah by arguing with her in front of a guest.

  “What if I could promise you that Dat will not be there?” Abigail said teasingly.

  “Yeah, right. Bishop Miller miss an opportunity to eat? I don’t think so.”

  “No. I’m serious. It’s the main reason I thought I’d come by and ask you to join us. Dat was called away to meet with the bishop from Grenlicht today. That’s a long buggy ride even on a good day. He’ll be gone for hours,” his sister said.

  “I don’t know. It could still be dangerous…but I do need to talk to her friends.”

  “Exactly. Then it’s settled. I’ll be back at noon to pick you up.” Abigail gave his cheek a kiss and headed back out.

  Elijah watched her off, then turned, crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Hannah. “So, I guess now would be a good time for you to tell me about this journal of Jessica’s? And about everything else you’ve been keeping from me.”

  EIGHT

  “Father, we are thankful for what we are about to receive… .”

  Elijah’s cousin John Miller stood at the head of the long table leading the blessing and giving thanks for his fine harvest of strawberries, which the entire community had come together to gather, sort and place in baskets to sell at market.

  John was a plain man—the ideal Amish man, so to speak. His dirty-blond hair was cut in a simple bowl shape around his head. It fell slightly below the brim of his straw hat. His shirt was a loose-fitted button-up, the color of the sky. His trousers, black—no pockets, no zippers, no cuffs. His reddish-blond beard framed the outside of his chin and was trimmed away from his mouth and upper lip. It was a style belonging uniquely to the Amish.

  If Elijah had stayed in Willow Trace instead of leaving when he turned eighteen, he guessed, he’d look much the same as his cousin. He certainly wouldn’t be wearing a fitted pair of Levi’s jeans and a golf shirt. His hair would be longer like John’s and his face smooth, unless of course, he’d married… .

  A dry lump formed in his throat. He looked to Hannah. Marriage. He had wanted that with her so many years ago. He had wanted a family with her. He remembered how they’d talked about having three or four children. They had even decided on names. How was it that she changed her mind so suddenly?

  Oh, what did he care anyway? He didn’t. He could never come back to Willow Trace. Nor did he want to. If only Nana Ruth hadn’t walked into the house the very second he’d asked Hannah about the journal, maybe he’d already be on his way back to the city.

  Elijah knew he was trying to push away the pleasant experiences of home that had filled his senses all afternoon—the buggy ride, which he’d given in to despite his better judgment that they go in the car; working alongside his kinsmen and friends in the fields, the fine meal they took together, the sight of all the children dressed like miniature grown-ups running barefoot through the fields, playing tag and hide-and-seek and swinging from the same tire swing he had played in as a child. The sights had quite overwhelmed him.

&n
bsp; And as his cousin prayed, full of grateful thanks to both God and his family and friends, Elijah was moved to tears. He had forgotten the sense of community and traditions of his People. He’d forgotten his sense of belonging. He looked to his sister’s wagon and remembered his gun and badge hidden under the blanket. What was wrong with him? Sure, it was great to be home for a few days, but he did not regret his choice to become a police officer. Nor was he ashamed of it. In fact, it was time to get back on the job and start asking around about Jessica.

  After the meal, Eli zoned in on a group of young teens that sat on John’s front porch, enjoying the evening breeze. He did not recognize their faces, as they would have been babies when he left town, but they would know him. Of that, he was certain. He hoped that would work to his advantage.

  “Were any of you friends with Jessica Nolt?”

  The group fell silent.

  “You can talk to me. I’m Elijah Miller,” he said. “I’m sure you knew me when you were little. I’ve just been gone awhile.”

  “You’re the cop,” one boy said.

  Elijah neared them. He made the courteous gesture like tipping a hat, even though he wore none. “That’s right. I’m the bishop’s son that became a cop.”

  “Are you moving back here?” another child asked, turning a nice shade of red.

  “No, just visiting.” He looked around at the beautiful land. In the distance, Hannah was cleaning one of the dinner tables. Near to them, his mother, Nana Ruth and a few other women sat chatting in a small circle. His chest tightened at the sight. “Just visiting,” he repeated as if to drive home his answer.

  “Do you kill bad people?” a boy in the group asked.

  “No. I’ve never had to kill anyone,” he answered.

  “Would you?” the boy continued. “My dad says guns are bad.”

  “Almost anything can become an instrument of evil in the wrong hands.” Elijah gave them a compassionate look. “So, did you kids know Jessica Nolt?”

  They all nodded.

  “Well, can you tell me about her? Like what did she like to do for fun? Who were her closest friends? Stuff like that.”

  “She hung out with Daniel and Kasey and Geoffrey,” one answered.

  “They’re over there by the horses,” another said.

  “They go to town sometimes,” one of the girls added. “And to parties.”

  “Yes, they do,” another boy confirmed. “They are on Rumspringa.”

  “Any idea what they do in town?” Elijah followed the kids’ gaze to a group of three older teens sitting on a fence rail. Geoffrey, Daniel and Kasey, he presumed.

  “We don’t know. They don’t really talk to us.”

  “Are they good kids? Do they go to singings and do their chores?”

  The kids exchanged quick glances, probably afraid to answer and get their older friends in a pickle.

  “Come on,” he encouraged them. “I’m not here to get anyone in trouble. I’m just trying to see if I can figure out where Jessica was the day before she died.”

  “Jah, they are good. But you should ask them your questions.” A boy pointed to the kids on the fence rail.

  “Okay.” He smiled and backed away. But the young kids scattered as if the porch had caught fire.

  What was that all about? I’m not that scary.

  But when he turned to go talk to the other group of kids, he understood why they had run off. Just down the hill, the bishop was coming toward him. So the meeting hadn’t kept him away after all. And now his Dat had come to send him home. Some things would never change. Once the bishop decided on something, he never changed his mind. Accepting his own son’s decisions wouldn’t be any different.

  Elijah’s heart sank. If he left the gathering, how could he protect Hannah? Didn’t anyone understand that she was in danger and that they needed help and protection from something beyond their borders? But even his fear of leaving Hannah unprotected couldn’t compete with his fear of the conversation about to take place.

  His heart pounded in his chest like a drum and his throat grew so tight he could barely take in the air he needed. After eleven years, his Dat was coming to speak to him. He’d dreamed of this moment. Imagined it over and over in his mind in many different ways…none of the scenarios had ever ended well. He doubted this would, either.

  He stood frozen to his spot on John’s porch and waited. There was no smile on his Dat’s face, no welcome in his manners. Not that Eli had expected otherwise, but he had hoped somehow for a miracle. He still believed in them. As his father grew nearer, his appearance shocked Elijah. How old he’d grown. The lines on his face deeper, his hair whiter, his shoulders rounder. He stopped a few steps away, squared his feet under himself and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I know why you have come and about the recommendation of Chief McClendon, who is a good friend to our People. I spoke to the elders. We give you three days. After that, you will leave.” His words were sharp and spoken in the Pennsylvania Dutch. And as soon as they were said, he dropped his arms, turned and started to march away.

  Elijah shook his head at the unfeeling encounter. Three days. He wished they were already past.

  Hi, Dat. Good to see you, Dat. Miss you, too, Dat.

  Yeah, right.

  Almost as if he’d heard the words, the bishop stopped and turned. Eli’s heart jumped for a second as his father opened his mouth to speak again. “Und kleine Pistole,” the bishop added, marching away. “It isn’t our way.”

  Eli swallowed away the hurt of his father’s cold words and manner. Then he glanced over at his sister’s buggy where he’d stowed away his Glock.

  Of course, Dat, no guns. If someone shoots at us again, I’ll just hit him with a farm tool. He broke no law by having a gun. He had not taken vows. And if that cop so many years ago had not shot his abductor, he and his sister, Abigail, would both be dead. Did that not mean anything to his father? Did the bishop not see that protecting the innocent was a good thing?

  Elijah dropped his head and walked toward the other small group of teens.

  * * *

  “Elijah Miller, after all these years?” Margaret Brenneman whispered to Hannah as they cleared away the evening meal dishes. “I heard he showed up completely unannounced. That must have given you quite a shock.”

  “Yes, a little,” Hannah answered.

  “Wonder why he’s back after all this time,” Margaret continued, not really listening to Hannah’s answer.

  “And wasn’t he always a favorite of yours?” Mary Payne jumped into the conversation. “In fact, if I remember correctly we were all astonished when you announced your engagement to Peter Nolt instead of to him.”

  “I’m sure I can’t remember anything that happened so long ago,” Hannah said, a little angry at their choice of topics. “It is surely of no consequence now. Peter is gone. Jessica is gone.”

  Hannah walked quickly to the kitchen with her stack of plates, hoping Margaret and Mary would give up their gossiping mission by the time she returned, but it seemed that was not to be.

  “Levi says Elijah is staying with you during his visit?” Mary Payne added.

  Hannah cringed. She hated any sort of gossip, but she especially hated it when the gossip involved her. And she could see exactly where this topic was leading. She wanted to silence their tongues. “He is estranged from his father. You know that. And he’s here on business. Perhaps you should ask him about it yourself. ’Tis no secret.”

  “About that troubled Jessica, no doubt,” Margaret said. “I’ve heard all sorts of tales of her goings-on at parties and such. It must make it all so difficult for you.”

  “Not a bit of truth in any of that talk. Idle prattle, I assure you.” Hannah sighed in frustration at the turn in the conversation. “Jessica was a good girl.”


  “Of course she was, dear.” Margaret shot Mary a worried look. “It must be such a terrible time for you.”

  “It’s been difficult,” Hannah said, lifting her chin high. “It was so unexpected.”

  Mary came and patted her hand. “And it can’t help with all of this terrible talk going around. Well, at least you can count on the two of us not to join in.”

  Mary and Margaret saw the sadness in her eyes and finally turned to their work. Hannah wanted to flee, but forced herself to stay and help them with the dishes.

  “Do you think you’ll stay on at the Nolts’ now that she’s gone?” Mary started again.

  “Where else would I go?” Hannah felt her tears begin to form. Normally, she wouldn’t listen to such silly talk, but today, after all she’d been through, she didn’t need to hear this from these women, who had nothing better to do than speculate about her business.

  “You have kinfolk in the town of Esperance, do you not?” Mary said.

  “A cousin.” What was this? Hannah shuddered at their words. They wanted her sent away. Out of their sight.

  She could take no more. She rushed from the kitchen before the tears came. Abigail was just coming into the house. She nearly knocked her over.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hannah, what is it?” It only took Abigail a second to look past her into the kitchen and see Mary and Margaret there. “What did they say to you, those gossiping twits?”

  Hannah tried to stop her tears. How foolish she felt to be rattled by the silliest women in all of Willow Trace. “There was talk about Jessica. Bad talk. They were suggesting I go to Esperance to live with my cousin.”

  “I ought to give them a piece of my mind,” Abigail said. “You’re not going anywhere. Come, Hannah. Let us walk and take in some fresh air. It’s gotten much too crowded in here.” She said the last part loudly so that the other ladies could hear.