Amish Country Amnesia

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Amish Country Amnesia Page 16

by Meghan Carver


  The neighbor with the telephone was not far by Englisch standards, but the storm would slow the horses down. And though the wind had lessened within the trees, the snow lay deep. At least John knew who he could trust now. With the neighbor out of town visiting family in Ohio, John and Sarah would be alone at the neighbor’s barn and not bring trouble on yet another family in the community. Besides, he would not mind if they sought shelter in his barn. The telephone was available for anyone to use as long as they paid their part of the bill.

  The Amish took care of each other. That was what people did who loved each other.

  Like John? Did she dare to hope that perhaps John loved her? For sure and for certain, he had done everything within his abilities to take care of her and assure her safety.

  No. He was a police officer, most likely a good one. The doctor had said that despite the amnesia, John’s instincts honed through training and his muscle memory would have remained intact. So, he was doing his job. Protecting people who needed him. That was all. He had said he cared, but wasn’t that in his job description?

  John turned and offered her a hopeful smile, and her heart flittered in her chest like the snowflakes in the storm. “The snow will muffle the sound of the horses. And although we’ll leave tracks, I think they’ll be covered up quickly because the snow is falling so thickly.”

  He pointed to the path behind Thunder, and she turned to see what sort of trail she was leaving on Lightning. But just as she verified that the snow was, indeed, filling in their steps, a tree just a couple of feet from her exploded. Bark flew in every direction. A piece smacked her in the cheek. Sarah spun back forward and hunched over, making herself as small as possible.

  “They spotted us!” John’s whisper seemed to echo through the woods. “They’re shooting at us!”

  A warm, sticky substance trickled down her cheek. Sarah leaned down to a corner of the blanket and pressed it to the spot. It came away with a circle of blood on it. The tree bark must have broken the skin, but it didn’t seem serious.

  John leaned forward on his mount. “Come on! Farther into the woods.”

  Those thugs must have seen them slip into the trees. And even though the men had to be on foot, John and Sarah couldn’t outrun a bullet, not riding bareback and not with the fury of an increasing snowstorm beating at them.

  Sarah huddled down farther, both for protection and for warmth. She urged Lightning ahead, and the horse picked up the pace. But with the snow flying even thicker and the temperature continuing to drop, time worked against them. They could last in the elements only so long, but they had no choice but to continue, no matter how long it took to reach shelter and safety.

  * * *

  Another bullet blasted into a nearby bush, the last few leaves from autumn flying off. Thunder sidestepped, and John stroked his neck as snow landed on his own head and eyelashes. His vision blurred as the snow melted on his face, and he swiped his hand across his eyes to clear away the wetness.

  John peered behind him. Sarah was close behind on Lightning, leaning into the wind, her eyes squinting into the snowstorm. There was no sign of the shooter, although with the encroaching darkness and the thickness of the snowfall, he hadn’t expected to see anyone.

  At least there was no way those men could drive their car through the woods in the snow. And unless they had snowmobiles tucked away in the trunk, they would be on foot. They surely couldn’t follow very far, not in that cold and the snow. He and Sarah would have the advantage with Thunder and Lightning to carry them and the horses’ body heat to help keep them warm.

  John held his mount back and turned to Sarah. “You go ahead. Lead the way and stay down as best you can.”

  Sarah inched ahead, but John rode close behind, pushing them deeper into the woods. Bare limbs scratched at them, and Sarah did her best to push them out of the way and hold them back, but a few snapped in his face. At the feel of warm stickiness, he feared he had a wound that matched Sarah’s.

  A crash came from behind them, followed by muffled voices. Carlyle and The Bruise hadn’t given up yet, then. That meant that now John and Sarah were battling cold and snow as well as the two men who wanted them dead.

  God, help! Did it take more than that? He suspected not, given their dire circumstances. But as he leaned over his horse and scanned the surrounding woods, he prayed for protection. Sarah would tell him that Gott would protect them if it was His will to do so, and she would be right. If they could just get to that telephone, he could summon law enforcement who would serve and protect.

  But would they make it to the phone shanty alive?

  A sliver of the setting sun filtered through the cloud cover, creating shifting shadows. John pointed to the closest shadow, and Sarah headed in that direction. The extra darkness might hide them temporarily, but what they really needed was shelter. Their speed had slowed, also, because they were riding bareback. John must have had some experience with horseback riding because he seemed to know what to do although he had no memory of it. Still, though, bareback was slippery enough without adding the moisture of snow. Some moments, it was all John could do to stay on. The thickness of the falling snow cut their visibility and further slowed them.

  John drew close and pointed to a stand of evergreen trees. “Over there.”

  Sarah nodded and turned Lightning in that direction as the high-intensity beam of a flashlight swept across the snow just a few feet behind them.

  “Go! Faster!” He kept his voice to a hoarse whisper.

  John’s heart thumped a wild beat inside his chest as the stream of light from the flashlight chased them to the cluster of trees. Craning his neck to watch behind, he thought a beam of light glanced briefly on his horse’s foot. But the trees were straight ahead, and a moment later, Sarah and Lightning slipped behind the stand. He quickly followed on Thunder. Finally, he allowed himself to exhale a breath he felt like he had been holding since they left the barn.

  He didn’t have to motion to Sarah to stay quiet. She hugged the blanket around herself and stared at him with eyes wide with fright. Through the branches, he could just make out the two men on foot. They swept their beams of light in a wide arc and stepped forward about twenty feet apart, communicating with hand motions. One beam swept across the evergreens, and he jerked back, holding his breath to keep from making a single sound. Thankfully, Thunder cooperated and remained still and silent, as well.

  Eventually, after what seemed so long he half expected the sun to rise, the men began to move to the side and back in the general direction from which they had come.

  Sarah’s whisper sounded behind him, loud in the hush of the snow. “Are they gone?”

  After one last visual sweep of the area in front of the trees, he turned Thunder to face her. “I think they’ve probably turned around. Despite the cold, we ought to stay here a bit longer, just to make sure that they are gone and we don’t lead them to the neighbor’s barn.”

  “Jah, I agree.”

  “Are you warm enough to wait it out awhile?” In the faint moonlight that snuck through the clouds, the pink of her cheeks accentuated her beauty.

  “I am getting warmth from Lightning. I am fine.”

  Thunder stomped in the snow, perhaps because he was tired of standing still, perhaps to get the blood flowing again. Snow continued to swirl around them and add to the heaps of snow already on the tree branches and stuck against the tree trunks. John swept the snow from his shoulders and shook it out of his hair, water droplets clinging to his hands.

  Thunder pawed at the ground and then turned in a circle. John clung to his mane so he wouldn’t slip off.

  “He is restless,” Sarah whispered, her breath puffing a cloud. “He is tired of standing still and is ready to go.”

  “I’m ready to go, too, to get to that phone. But we’re hidden here. I hesitate to take off and then be spotted. But Thunder is maki
ng it hard to stay upright.” The horse swayed again, toward Sarah, causing John to grasp at Lightning’s reins and neck.

  Lightning also shifted, and the two horses bumped. John leaned to pat Lightning’s neck and steady her. Sarah held out her hand, and John grabbed it for support. The softness of her hand startled him after the harshness of the chase, and her skin was surprisingly warm in the cold winter night. He shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

  As a few flurries continued to flutter down, the clouds parted. Moonlight flooded the clearing behind the trees, and he stared at her. Her skin was pinked from the cold, and her lips were parted slightly, her breath puffing out in small clouds.

  With only the smallest flurry of thought, like the snowflakes that continued to drift about them, he leaned in closer, his lips almost touching hers. Without hesitation, she closed the space. Their lips met, and hers were as soft and warm as he had anticipated. The cold around him disappeared, and warmth flooded him.

  I love her.

  What? The startling realization forced him away from her. He pushed his foot against the horse and moved away, the winter chill seeping into the space between them. Before he turned, she touched her fingers to her lips, her expression a mixture of pleasure and confusion.

  He urged Thunder a few steps away, his back to Sarah. He peered through the trees to make sure Carlyle and Jimmy had not returned, but he really needed the distance from her.

  He loved her? It was true. Through the past few days, he had witnessed her compassion for others, her devotion to her daughter, her work ethic, her sweetness. What more could a man want?

  But what could come of it? Since he had been able to infiltrate the counterfeiting ring and gather that information, he must, at the very least, be somewhat good at his job. But even with the return of his memory, there was still so much uncertainty in his skills after the period of not knowing himself. It felt wonderful to remember everything, but his confidence was unstable, both in himself and in his faith. If he had not even known himself, how could he know God and His will for his life? Maybe, with time, he could have more confidence in his abilities. He might have a job to go back to, but he’d feel like a rookie all over again.

  He could not ask Sarah to leave her Amish faith to become a police officer’s wife. Never. And if he left his job in law enforcement and joined the Amish community, how could he support a family?

  Lord, You’ve brought me this far. If I’m to believe in Your sovereignty, then that means You’ve led me to Sarah. But what now? What do I do?

  As he prayed, a fresh infusion of encouragement flittered down on him. A warm blanket of peace and joy filled him that could only have been from the Lord. With a tch-tch to the horse, he spun back to Sarah. She had her face to the sky, letting the last of the flurries alight on her face.

  “I should have said it earlier,” he whispered.

  She fluttered open her eyes and looked at him. He shot up a prayer that that was hope he saw in her eyes, a hope that was probably mirrored in his own.

  “I love you.”

  He leaned in close again and claimed her lips, the touch warming him in the bitter cold. Where this relationship might lead, he had no idea. But for the moment, being in the moonlight with her and her acceptance of his kiss were enough.

  NINETEEN

  For sure and for certain, that kiss would warm her up.

  But it couldn’t last forever. When John pulled away, his mount shifting feet again and swaying him apart from Sarah, the cold invaded, even more bitter than before. The absence of his lips against hers chilled her to the bone.

  The little warmth she received from the horse wasn’t enough any longer to combat the snow and the wind. The shivering began in her arms but soon consumed her entire body.

  John quickly pulled his blanket off and wrapped it around her.

  “Ach, no, John. You will freeze.” She began to remove the blanket, but he held out his hand in protest.

  “I insist. We’ve been out here for quite a while with no sign of Carlyle or The Bruise, so let’s hurry to that neighbor’s barn. I’ll warm up there.”

  She urged Lightning forward, John on Thunder following close behind. Only the moonlight and the peaceful silence accompanied them. Perhaps the threat really was gone, and their safety would be secured once they reached the telephone in the barn.

  Shivers still consumed her now and then, but they soon rode out of the trees. The barn stood silhouetted against the night sky. Safety at last.

  John dismounted and opened the barn doors. Warmth enveloped her as she entered, the wind and the snow and the chill left outside. John led Thunder to the nearest stall and quickly closed the doors.

  As he helped Sarah dismount, she cherished the strength and sturdiness inherent in his hands as they encircled her waist. He had been a good protector and would be into the future...except, the telephone was in a shanty just adjacent to the barn and it would all be over soon.

  Keeping the blanket wrapped around herself, Sarah showed John the door to the telephone. “It is just there. You can make your call and summon help.”

  “Right. Be right back.” He ran his hand down her upper arm, then turned toward the door.

  John returned a few minutes later and joined her near the horses.

  “Did you reach who you wanted?” She kept her voice low, a practice she had adopted over the last few days of intense caution.

  “Yes. Help is on the way.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “What about weapons? For protection. Does the neighbor have a hunting rifle?”

  “Jah. Most every Amish man has that.” She moved to a nearby cabinet, her heart heavy. Inside sat a rifle with extra boxes of ammunition. All this time spent together, and John’s first instinct was still to find a gun. He wasn’t changed at all. Any hope she had had of a future with him in the Amish church was now shattered. “Please leave it there. It is for hunting only. I know you come from a profession that includes the use of weapons and violence. But Gott will protect us.”

  She clutched the bodice of her dress. Her heart felt like it would be torn into little pieces. John was so different, coming from the Englisch world. How could he ever choose to be a part of the we of the Amish community, let alone the we of—did she dare even to think it?—Jed and Sarah Miller? The we of a family with her and Lyddie?

  No. She would not torture herself. She pushed it from her mind, although it took all her mental energy.

  But the request was made. Now he stood staring at her. Love shone in his eyes, but it seemed there was also a sadness. Was he realizing just how different they were, how unequally yoked, and how impossible a permanent relationship would be?

  He hesitated, seemingly torn between what was probably instinct and what, she prayed, was his faith working in him.

  * * *

  John knew what he needed to do, and Sarah was the encouragement to do it.

  Amish vows would have to wait until the appropriate time, but he could, and he would, reassure her now. He would respect her and her faith, a faith that he wanted to be his again.

  He stepped away from the cabinet where the rifle rested and closer to her, drawing her into his arms. “Sarah, I’ve already said I care about you. But I also want to say—”

  The crash of the barn door interrupted him and sent a pounding to his chest like he couldn’t remember ever having experienced. Now, not only was his own life on the line, but also the life of the woman he loved.

  He had taken too long. Too long to hide in the woods. Too long to finish their journey and reach the barn. Too long to make his telephone call.

  And now the rifle still sat in the cabinet, too far away to reach.

  The chilled wind and flurries of snow blew in with the two men, weapons pointed at John and Sarah. A sneer bedecked the angry face of Simon Carlyle, the dirty cop who had come to finish the job and eliminate the
man who could testify against him. The black-and-blue birthmark of Jimmy the Bruise wrapped around his neck and down his arm, seeming to pulsate with Jimmy’s rage.

  As Jimmy pointed his weapon at Sarah, John grabbed her hand. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t let her face it alone. A wicked smile snaked across Jimmy’s fleshy lips. “So, she’s your girl now? Love has blossomed under the pressure of the chase? Okay, then. You can watch her die first.”

  Carlyle tossed a glance at The Bruise. “Jimmy, you yap entirely too much. Get it done already. I’m sick of this problem.”

  “Fine. First, I’ll have Jed here dig the hole for his girl. Then he can dig his own hole. All I have to do is fill the dirt in.” His malicious smile grew.

  John let Sarah’s hand loose and raised both in surrender. “Now, guys, can’t we work something out?” As far as he could tell, neither Carlyle nor Jimmy knew he had called the police. If he could just keep them talking, perhaps he could keep Sarah alive until reinforcements arrived.

  “What do you mean, Jed? You’re in? Ready to live a little beyond that miserable policeman’s salary?”

  John forced a casual shrug. “What did you have in mind?”

  Jimmy growled at Carlyle, but Carlyle continued. “Well...”

  A sudden movement flashed behind the two men, at the door. Something beige and brown and white. Something large. Law enforcement couldn’t be there yet. John darted his gaze to see what it was. It was Snowball, teeth bared and eyes narrowed, ready for a fight.

  Just as recognition flickered in Jimmy’s eyes that John had seen something behind him, Jimmy turned. The dog attacked with a leap, flying right at his face.

  Snowball’s growl forced Carlyle to turn to see what was causing the commotion. As his attention refocused, John lunged for him. With a hand on Carlyle’s wrist, John twisted the man’s arm, but the weapon fired. A bullet shot up to the ceiling. Sarah screamed and covered her ears as she dropped to the ground. With one strong wrench, John took control of Carlyle’s gun.

 

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