by Ruth Reid
“Okay,” he said, intent on staying optimistic. “We’ll talk about it later.”
She cracked a smile. “You’re awfully confident.”
“Hmm . . . You fueled mei ego.” He motioned to the path and she followed. This time he started at a slower pace. “I’ve never seen it this bright at nacht,” he said after a period of silence.
“I thought I was hallucinating when the colors appeared. Mattie said not to drink the tea as she handed me the basket, and I did without thinking.”
He reeled around to face her. “How much?”
“A cup and a half. I started to sweat and thought I might pass out.” She lifted her hand to her neck. “Mei pulse is still skipping beats.”
He stopped. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He reached for her hand and placed three fingers on her wrist. Weak. He searched her neck for her pulse, and she flinched.
“Do you think I’ll be all right?”
“Nay talking.” He counted the beats awhile longer, then lowered his hand. “There are long intervals between your heartbeats and they’re erratic. Whatever it was you ingested, you have to get it out of your system.”
“I drank water thinking I could dilute it.”
He shook his head. “That’s nett enough. Stick your fingers down your throat.”
She attempted, but apparently didn’t get her fingers far enough to stimulate the gag reflex before she pulled them out.
“Try it again.”
“I can’t.”
Ben set the gun on the ground. He snapped a small branch off the oak tree. “Open your mouth.”
“What? Nay.”
“It’s either this or mei fingers.” He inspected his fingers. “I’ve been in the swamp muck today.” The way her face paled, she might vomit at the thought. When she didn’t, he moved closer. “Are you going to do it or am I?”
She turned her back to him and bent at the waist. This time she managed to make herself vomit copious amounts of dark liquid. She brushed her hair away from her face. “You happy?”
“Do it again.”
“I already feel light-headed.”
“I’ll carry you when you’re done.” She didn’t understand the seriousness. Not all herbs were safe. “Kumm on. If you did it once, you can do it again.”
She stared at him.
Ben reached down and picked up the gun. “Kumm with me.” He went in the opposite direction, listened for the sound of the river, and cut through the alder brush to reach the water. Ben set the gun down away from the water and out of the sand, then glanced at her silhouetted form standing on the bank. “You want to get a drink and wash your hands and mouth, don’t you?”
She hesitated a moment, then joined him at the water’s edge. Grace went down to her knees, washed her hands, then cupped some water and drank.
He knelt beside her and did the same.
She gulped another handful of water and sighed.
“Okay, do it again.”
“Nay, Ben, please. Let’s just go home. Mattie will know what to do.”
“You have to get it all out. Besides, it’s going to take several hours to get home.” He inspected his hands for cleanliness, then lifted his palms and wiggled his fingers as though playing a piano midair. “Mei hands are clean. I’ll do it if you can’t.”
She hesitated.
“Kumm on, you can do it.” He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and waved it before her. “I’ll give you this.”
“Once more, but that’s it.” She hunched over and gagged before her fingers made it into her mouth. She rinsed out the foul taste with river water, then stretched out her hand. “The gum.”
Ben peeled off the wrapper and handed her the stick, then popped another one in his mouth.
She chewed the gum, its mint flavor making her gag again. She bent over to vomit, only this time nothing came up. The dry heaves made her ribs ache. Her shoulders shook and she began sobbing. Exhaustion was taking its toll. “I just want to go home,” she said, crying harder.
“Okay, but only after you drink more water. You need to dilute whatever’s left.”
“Ben . . .,” she pleaded.
“Tough love, Gracie—start drinking.” His words were stern, but his heart was as soft as cookies fresh out of the oven.
She spit her gum into the bushes, then cupped her hands and drank more water. Color was returning to her face.
Ben swept her hair away from her eyes and hooked the long strands behind her ears. “Better?”
She nodded.
“Promise you’ll tell me if you start experiencing any strange side effects.”
“Okay.”
Ben rose, reached for her hand, helped her up, then pulled another stick of gum from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Danki,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear. She looked up at the sky. “I heard Alaska has nights when it never gets dark, but I’ve never seen it like this in Michigan.”
“I’m claiming it as an answer to prayer. I prayed God would make the sun stand still so I could find you.”
“I was praying for a miracle too.”
Ben bent down and retrieved the rifle. “Are you ready?”
She lumbered a few steps and stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have to go back for Gordon.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Absolutely nett.”
Grace flinched at Ben’s furrowed brow.
“Why on earth would you want to go back?”
She had asked herself that too. “I can’t leave Gordon alone with Jack.”
Ben took a few steps down the trail, then spun around and marched back to her. “That tea must have messed up your mind. You don’t even know what you’re saying—what you’re doing. You’re acting . . . out of character. You’re acting delusional.”
She lowered her head. Her actions were certainly out of character. Kissing him was narrisch. “I was wrong.”
“You got that right.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.” She bowed her head, unable to look him in the eye. As much as she wanted to erase the memory of Jack kissing her, it was still wrong to involve Ben the way she had. “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”
He withheld his response, making the moment unbearable.
“Please.”
He smiled, although it was much too wide to be natural. “There’s nothing to forgive.” His smile disappeared. “Are you ready to go home?”
“I was serious about going back for Gordon.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Why?”
She blinked at the harshness in his tone. “The treasure they were searching for turned out to be river rocks. Jack was disoriented by the tea, but when he’s sober, he will go into a rage.”
“So? Those two are partners. Let them kill each other.”
“Ben,” she snapped. “Gordon saved mei life. He’s nett a bad person.”
“Grace, he’s unbalanced. Those people can flip in a moment.”
Ben had a point. Gordon had set fire to his family’s cabin, taking the lives of his own parents. Still, Jack was a monster; he wouldn’t think twice about hurting Gordon. Grace squared her shoulders. “I’m going back. I understand if you don’t want to kumm.” She motioned to the rifle resting against his shoulder. “Can I take the gun?”
He shifted his weight to his other foot and looked at her hard. “Can you really shoot someone? Kill someone?”
She was raised to adhere to the Ten Commandments. The Ordnung forbade members to join the armed services because of her people’s belief in the Commandments. She had already acted in violence when she hit Jack with the shovel. At that particular moment, she hadn’t cared if he lived or died. She had fallen to Jack’s level. Even knowing something was wrong with the herbal concoction, she’d made him a strong cup. Her shoulders dropped and she hung her head in shame.
“I didn’t think so.” He motioned to the trail. “I’m sure everyone’s worr
ied about you. We need to go home.”
She nodded. But as they hiked along the trail following the riverbank, she couldn’t push aside her thoughts of rescuing Gordon.
Something slapped the river.
Ben stopped.
“Sounded like a trout jumping,” she said.
“Shh.” He lifted his index finger over his mouth.
The alder bushes rustled.
Grace had dismissed the sound as coming from an animal. Apparently Ben wasn’t convinced. He took her by the elbow and motioned with his head for her to follow him off the trail. Her heart rate ratcheted up a notch. The farther away from the river they were, the hillier the terrain became. One incline wasn’t even steep but it left her breathless.
“How’s your leg?”
“I’m managing.” She wished she could manage her thoughts as well. Gordon’s voice echoed in her mind. Weak-minded and simple—the way God had made him. Gordon accepted his lot in life better than she had her own.
Grace dug her heels into the ground going down the slope, but the downward momentum got away from her and she tripped over her dress hem. She logrolled several feet before coming to a stop.
Ben galloped down the hill. “Are you hurt?”
“Nay.” She pushed up into a sitting position. “I think going uphill was easier.”
Ben set the gun on the ground and lent her his hand. Once she was standing, he brushed the dead leaves off her dress. “I know the trail following the river would be easier, but I’m sure that’s where they’d look first for us.”
“Is that what you think the noise was?”
“It was probably an animal.” He looked over his shoulder, then from side to side. “Stay here a minute.” He picked up the gun and tucked the butt of it between his waist and elbow, placed one hand on the steel barrel and the other on the trigger, then proceeded to the right with slow, steady steps.
Grace watched him until he disappeared into the darkness. She closed her eyes. Lord, please keep him safe. Watch over him, and please, Lord, don’t let anything bad happen. She sat quietly with her eyes closed, then said into the darkness, “Lord, show mercy to Gordon, and . . .” She exhaled loudly. She couldn’t add Jack’s name to her prayer. She couldn’t pray for something she didn’t have in her heart. “And help me understand Your grace. Gordon seems to grasp Your grace being sufficient in his life, but why is it so difficult for me?”
Footsteps tromped over sticks. When she opened her eyes, Ben was coming toward her.
“I found a cave opening. Do you want to see it?”
She stood. “That must be the one mei bruders talked about.” She went with him, but the closer they came to the entrance, the more she began to have second thoughts. Had he already checked it for bears?
Ben stopped at the mouth of the cave. “If this comes out at those sinkholes, I’ll know how to get to the main road. Are you feeling adventurous?”
She gulped.
Grace peered into the cave. Dank. Musty. Dark. Gordon don’t like dark. Gordon afraid.
Ben came up beside her. “I think we’ll be safer.”
Safer? Grace spun around. “We have to help Gordon. He’s a victim.”
“Grace, we’ve gone over this.”
“But Gordon saved me. Jack would have . . .” Tears burned her eyes. “I couldn’t . . . fight.” Noticing Ben’s Adam’s apple move down his throat, she couldn’t continue. Grace turned her back to him and lowered her head.
He stepped in front of her. “I know this has been hard on you, but don’t feel guilty about leaving Gordon with Jack.”
She lifted her head. “He’s a victim.”
Ben shuffled his feet. “You’re nett going to let this go, are you?”
“I can’t.”
He touched a ringlet of hair that had fallen loose from behind her ear, and for a moment, staring at the lock of hair, he seemed to be lost in thought. He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes searching, his chest rising and falling. For a minute, she thought he might kiss her.
He released the lock of hair. “Do you think Gordon will leave?”
“Jah,” she said with a shaky voice.
Ben cupped her elbow. “Okay, I’ll go get him.” He led her into the mouth of the cave. “But you stay in here where it’s safe.”
“He won’t go with you.”
He shuffled his feet impatiently. “You just said he would.”
“With me.”
“Either I go alone,” he said firmly, “or we leave him with Jack.”
Something sounding like a slow-dripping faucet filled the silence. The thought of being alone in the cave was unnerving. She reached for his forearm in the darkness, and his muscles tightened under her grasp. “Gordon doesn’t know you. He trusts me.”
“I’m nett backing down on this. It’s dangerous and we could be on the run again and your legs—”
“Mei legs will what?”
“You’re tired. I am too.”
She narrowed her eyes even though he couldn’t see them in the darkness. “But you don’t have a disability.”
“Don’t make it about that.” His sharp tone echoed against the walls. “I’m trying to keep you safe.” He reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Will you pray for me while I’m gone?”
“Jah, of course.”
“If something happens to me . . .”
“Don’t, Ben, please.” Tears pricked her eyes.
“Go through the cave. You remember how to get to the main road, right?”
Alone?
Ben hiked through the woods at a steady clip. Going after Gordon was crazy, and if it wasn’t for wanting more than anything to please Grace, he wouldn’t take the risk. The woman had a good, but stubborn, heart. Even exhausted, she refused to back down from her conviction, a trait he admired.
He wished she shared the same fervor toward him, but instead, she sent him mixed signals. She had responded to his kiss—melted into his arms—the afternoon he found her in the bishop’s barn. She claimed it’d never happen again. Then tonight, she kissed him. The moment he responded, she ended it, saying she was wrong. He was beginning to wonder if all women were like this. Neva had thrown herself at him. Had he been as drunk as her, things would have gotten out of hand—they nearly did anyway. She was on the rebound and because they had been on rumschpringe, he mistakenly believed the man she rambled on about was an Englischer. He never dreamed it’d been Toby.
As Ben reached the footpath near the river, the sound of branches snapping stopped him in his tracks. He clicked the gun’s safety mechanism and raised the rifle.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ben recognized the heavy breathing and lowered the gun before Grace entered his line of vision. He groaned. What was she trying to prove, that she had an independent streak? She’d made that clear the day he arrived in Badger Creek.
He charged across the path, a mixture of frustration and relief coursing through his veins. “What are you doing here? You almost got shot.”
“I forgot. They know about the cave.”
The whimper in her voice pulled at his heart. He wanted to reach out and take her into his arms, but instead, he clicked the gun’s safety.
“Let me go with you,” she pleaded.
Her teary eyes were difficult to avoid, and no matter how hard he tried to redirect his gaze, he couldn’t. “Grace,” he said, moving a strand of hair away from her face. “I see the bruises he left.”
Her shoulders rounded and she diverted her gaze to the ground.
“I don’t want him near you again.” His throat dried as anger rose up inside him. The man wouldn’t lay his hand on her again.
She lifted her head, her eyes pleading with his. “I’m afraid to be alone.”
Behind her quiet whisper was a spirit of determination. She would follow him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re hard to say nay to.”
She smiled.
“I hope your humanitarian efforts don’t get us into trou
ble.”
Her jaw dropped.
Ben turned as she squared her shoulders. He didn’t have time to listen to her defend her reasoning for going back for Gordon. He took a few steps and looked over his shoulder. She hadn’t moved an inch. “If you’re coming with me, let’s go.”
Grace rushed to his side, then walked quietly for several minutes. “Is that how you viewed rescuing me? A humanitarian effort?”
“Nay.” It was much more than an effort. He would have died for her. Something he wasn’t prepared to do for the man who took her hostage to begin with.
“Just nay? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“We’re nett too far from their camp. We shouldn’t be talking.” His thoughts were as tangled as an unspooled reel of fishing line. Maybe once this was over he’d have his thoughts sorted out.
It wasn’t long before she stopped and pointed off to the right. “Is that . . .?”
He bent slightly to get her perspective. “Jah.” Campfire flickered in the distance. He glanced sideways at Grace rubbing her arms. “Kalt? ” he whispered.
“Mei skin is crawling.” She cringed.
Cold feet. Good. They were far enough away that they could still turn around without anyone noticing. “Let’s nett do this,” he said.
“Nay, please. I . . .” She looked down.
He’d heard before it was good to face your fears, but not like this. “Grace, you don’t owe him anything. They both took you. They’re in this together.”
Her bottom lip trembled and she wrapped herself in a tight hug and closed her eyes.
“Grace,” he said, placing his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
Her muscles stiffened and she wiggled out from under his arm. “Gordon is as helpless as a child.” Blowing out a breath, she turned and marched down the path, arms swinging.
“Okay,” he said, joining her. “But you can’t just charge into their camp spouting demands.”
“We’ll figure out something.”
That was all he needed—to follow a woman with no common sense. Although if he’d had any sense, he never would have agreed to return. But right or wrong, that decision had been made and they weren’t far from the camp now. He needed to figure out how to keep her out of his way.