“Sounds like a hymn—peace in the valley?”
Abigail grunted at that. “I know you think I’m being silly. Youngies often think a person my age has a tendency to be overly dramatic, too careful, too serious.”
She picked up one of the laundry baskets, Naomi picked up the other, and they both trudged toward the house.
“Your onkel and I care a lot about you, Naomi. It’s been nice having a young person around the place.”
“You have Sam,” Naomi reminded her.
“Sam is rarely here between his working on his own fields and finishing his own house and barn.”
“Don’t forget his courting.”
“Ya, there’s that too.”
Naomi wondered if now was the time to speak to her aenti about Silas, but he hadn’t even asked her to court. He’d held her hand on Saturday night. The next evening he’d sat by her during the singing and then given her a ride home. He’d even kissed her once before walking her up to the front door. She was thinking of that, of the kiss, when she tripped over the bottom step going into the house.
“Something you want to tell me?”
“Um… no. Maybe later, that is. It’s nothing. That is, it’s nothing important.”
“So you’re talking about Silas.”
Naomi could feel the blush starting at the top of her head and working its way down.
“You came in humming last night, and you set a full glass of milk in the cupboard.”
“I wondered where that went. I remembered pouring it… ”
“Love can do that to a person, cause them to be distracted.” Abigail’s voice had taken on a softer tone. “You be careful with Silas Fisher. I believe he has a good heart, but…”
“But what?”
“I doubt he even knows if he’s finished sowing his wild oats.”
“What does that expression mean?”
“It means doing wild and foolish things in one’s youth, only some people forget that and continue right through old age. So be careful. That’s all I’m saying.” She reached out and ran a hand up and down Naomi’s arm. “Now, get out of here before I find another chore for you.”
Naomi was nearly to the door when she turned and said, “They may ask me to eat with them. Would that be all right?”
“As long as you’re home before dark, and I suspect Emma and Rachel will ask you to stay for dinner. You could do worse than to have those two women in your life permanently.”
“We’re not even courting yet!”
But Abigail wasn’t listening. She’d already turned her attention to storing the freshly laundered dish towels in the kitchen drawers.
Naomi practically skipped down the lane, feeling happy and free and forgetting completely that she was supposed to be careful.
Forty-Six
Naomi gladly accepted Emma’s invitation to stay for dinner. She and Katie Ann had spent the afternoon tending to a new litter of kittens in the barn, harvesting some of the produce from the family garden, and folding the last of the Fisher laundry. With two young boys in the house plus five adults, they had more laundry than Naomi’s aenti did. As she was folding the boys’ pants and shirts, she allowed her mind to wander, to consider what it would be like to have a family of her own, to tend to their meals and a home and, yes, laundry.
“You’re daydreaming again.”
“I was?”
“Ya. You put one of Mamm’s aprons in the boys’ pile.”
That started them giggling, which felt good because the previous day’s tone had turned terribly serious when the sheriff stopped by their luncheon. A sheriff at a Sunday luncheon—now there was something she could write about for her Budget article.
Instead of discussing that, Naomi told Katie Ann about setting the glass of milk in the cupboard. “I have no idea where my mind was.”
“We both know where it was, or on whom it was, and I’m sorry Silas isn’t here today. He hired Stuart to drive him over to Alamosa. He needed a special part for the plow. He tends to have a long list of things to do when he finally hires a driver. I expect he won’t be back until after dinner.”
“I came to see you, not your bruder.”
“But it would have been nice.”
“Ya. It would have.”
“Did he ask you last night… to court, to step out with him, to be his one and only?”
“Not exactly, but he kissed me.”
Which sent them into another fit of giggles.
Dinner was a delicious, boisterous affair, and then it was time to go home.
“I’m going to walk her back,” Katie Ann told her mother.
“And who will walk you back?” Rachel asked.
“I could walk her back.” Naomi started laughing when Rachel pointed a dish towel at her.
“Then you’d end up where you began.”
“How about I go halfway with her and then I come back?”
“A good compromise.”
So they’d set out down the lane, the summer sun lower but not yet touching the horizon. Clouds had continued to build along the western horizon and were predicted to turn their direction before morning. Del Norte must have had a good rain, because the storm had appeared to sit there all day. It was funny the way you could see it raining in another place and yet stand in sunshine.
If Naomi could have described what she felt that moment, it would have been good, relaxed, even optimistic. She thought that was progress, given what she’d been through in the last week, and she hoped everything would soon return to normal.
They were out of sight of the house, and not yet to the halfway mark between their places, when Katie Ann stopped to point out a crane standing near the irrigation canal. “Henry says they’re a miracle of nature, that they return every year—the families do. The male and female mate for life.”
“Like us.”
“Ya, and the young stay with the parents for the first year and into the second, when the female gets pregnant and the cycle repeats itself.”
“Again, like us.” Which sounded like a silly thing to say, but it was true. Many of the women in their community seemed to be pregnant every other year. It was small wonder that most Amish families had eight to ten children. “Do you want a whole houseful of children?”
“Not at the moment,” Katie Ann admitted. “But I might if I met the right person.”
“Like Albert?”
“Maybe. I guess time will tell. Some Amish men don’t approve of me.”
“That’s ridiculous and closed minded.”
“It’s true, though. They think I should work in a bakery.”
“Then where would I work?”
“Or a dress shop.”
“We don’t have a dress shop.”
“You’re missing my point, and on purpose, it seems, given the smile on your face. The truth is, I enjoy working with animals.”
“It is an unusual choice for an Amish woman.”
“And yet it’s my choice to make. I keep thinking that if I meet the right person, he will understand this passion in my heart and will want me to be happy.”
“Has Albert said anything about it?”
“No. Like you and Silas, we’re not even courting yet. We’re…”
“Did he kiss you when he took you home from the singing last night?”
For her answer, Katie Ann began to hum, and then she walked farther from the road to pull a bunch of yellow wildflowers. “Give these to your aenti, and tell her thank you for letting you come.”
“Sounds like you’re avoiding the question, which I’ll take as a yes.”
“It’s been a gut day. Ya?”
Naomi would think of that moment later, of Katie’s humming and the yellow flowers and the way the sun played across the fields as the dark clouds marched toward them. She would remember the way the crane had raised its head to call out to its mate. The way the family of three looked, searching for food as they stood in the irrigation water.
A truck pulled up
beside them then, an old and battered pickup pulling a horse trailer. At first Naomi didn’t recognize the person driving, but then he leaned across the seat, popped open the door, and said, “Get in.”
“We’re actually enjoying our walk and have just a little farther to go,” Katie Ann said.
“But thank you,” Naomi added.
“It wasn’t a request.” And then Naomi saw the gun on the seat. His hand went to it, but his eyes stayed on them. “Now, get in.”
So they did, because getting in seemed wiser than getting shot.
Forty-Seven
Emma didn’t worry at first.
The sun dropped behind the San Juans, and she told herself girls were girls.
She finished cleaning the kitchen, set a platter of cookies in the middle of the table for their evening snack, and walked around the house turning on the lanterns.
Still no Katie Ann.
It was obvious that Naomi was taken with Silas, and Katie Ann had been brought home the evening before by Albert. They were young women, with their entire lives before them and new loves on their hearts. It made sense they would be distracted.
But then darkness fell.
The wind picked up, and a few fat raindrops struck the roof and splattered the windows. It kicked up the dust and caused the cranes to take flight. Rain was a blessing, and Emma was grateful for it, but she prayed it would hold off until Katie Ann made it back home.
She picked up her Bible, clasped it to her chest, and prayed that God would protect her granddaughter. She tried to tamp down her panic by reciting a psalm under her breath.
Emma couldn’t imagine one good reason for Katie Ann to be so late. Normally they wouldn’t have worried, but these weren’t normal times. As she and Naomi had traipsed down the porch steps arm in arm, Emma had reminded her granddaughter to be back before dark. They’d spoken the night before and again at breakfast about being careful. Katie Ann had soberly listened and promised to be cautious, to be alert to her surroundings and any possible danger, to stick relatively close to home until Grayson caught the person responsible for Jeremiah’s murder.
Emma moved to the front porch, paced back and forth, and finally asked Thomas to fetch his father from the barn. Rachel had been upstairs putting away the last of the laundry, but she arrived at the porch the same time her husband did.
“Something about Katie Ann?” Clyde asked.
“She’s still not home.”
“They left…” Rachel glanced down the lane, as if she might see her daughter if she only stared long enough, hard enough. The rain had turned to a steady drizzle and the wind had picked up even more, causing a loose board on the barn’s siding to slap back and forth. “They left right after dinner.”
“That was hours ago.”
“Ya, and she was only going halfway.” Rachel sank onto one of the porch rockers. “She promised me she would go only halfway. We… we made a joke about it.”
“Should have taken twenty or thirty minutes,” Emma said. “No more than an hour even if they’d stopped to talk, and they’ve been talking all afternoon, so that doesn’t seem likely. She should have been home an hour ago.”
Clyde studied his wife and mother for only a moment, and then he said, “I’ll hitch up the buggy.”
“I’ll do it, Dat.” Stephen stepped out of the darkness, where he’d been waiting, listening. “I’ll hook up Cinnamon.”
“Should I go and tell the neighbors?” Thomas asked. “Or run to the phone shack and call Henry?”
“Let’s not get our buggy in front of our horse. I’ll drive to Abigail’s first. Could be the girls went there for some reason, even though Katie Ann told you she wouldn’t.” Clyde touched his wife’s arm. “If they’re not there, I’ll stop by the phone shack and call Grayson. Rachel, you and Mamm wait here in case she comes back…”
He didn’t add what they were all thinking. That Katie Ann might be hurt. That she wouldn’t have done anything so disrespectful. That she understood the dangerous situation that currently held the Monte Vista community in its grip.
“Maybe she found a hurt animal,” Rachel offered. “It’s the only reason I can think of that she… wouldn’t be back.”
“We’ll stay here,” Emma said. “We’ll pray.”
Which they did. Emma clasped Rachel’s hands, and they prayed that God would protect the girls wherever they were, that Clyde would find them and bring them home, that no harm would come to the two young women.
They prayed and they rocked.
They prayed some more and they paced.
Emma made coffee, but it tasted bitter and made her jump at the slightest sound. Or maybe fear did that. Maybe it was the memory of what could happen in a world where darkness sometimes won.
Rachel’s mug sat cold and untouched on the table beside the rocker. The boys sat on the floor of the porch, pretending to play checkers, though neither had moved a piece in quite a long time. They should have all moved inside as the rain increased in intensity, but they couldn’t.
Each person there loved and cared for Katie Ann and needed to be able to see the lane.
When lightning streaked across the sky, Emma jumped.
When thunder rolled, Rachel glanced at her, shook her head, and turned her attention back down the road.
When the rain turned to a downpour, Emma’s heart filled with dread.
Forty-Eight
An hour later, Clyde turned back down their lane, but he wasn’t alone. Henry followed in his own buggy, as did Abigail’s husband in theirs.
“No sign of the girls,” Clyde said as he took the front porch steps two at a time. Daniel and Henry were right behind him.
“You called Grayson?” Emma felt as if she couldn’t swallow, as if her mouth were suddenly filled with sand.
“I did. He’ll be here soon.”
Her heart sank at those words. She wanted to burst into tears, to walk into Henry’s arms as she had the day before. She wanted to allow herself to be weak. But Rachel had gone suddenly pale and begun to shake. Clyde squatted by her chair and spoke to her softly.
Emma went to Thomas and Stephen to assure them everything was being done, that their sister would be home before they woke in the morning. But the sight of their mother sobbing shattered the boys’ innocence. They’d been largely unaware of the danger Emma had been in before when she was caught up in Sophia Brooks’s murder. They hadn’t even known her dangerous flight down the sand dunes was happening until after the fact. That event had seemed like one of the superhero comic books they sometimes hid in the barn, thinking no one knew about them. But Rachel had caught them a few times—pretending to be Spider-Man or the Incredible Hulk, saving a wounded dog, a child in a flood, their mammi as she fled from a killer. She’d talked to Clyde and Emma about it, and they’d agreed to allow the boys their fantasies, because childhood passed all too quickly. For Stephen and Thomas, it had passed in the last few moments.
Emma looked up at Henry, who sensed what she needed, joined her and the boys, and said, “How about we walk toward the lane and wait for the sheriff?”
“It’s raining.” Stephen swiped the back of his hand across his nose.
“You’ve umbrellas, don’t you?”
“Ya, we do.” Thomas jumped up, ran into the house, and returned with four umbrellas.
The movement helped the boys to find their equilibrium and gave Rachel a few minutes to pull herself together.
The first car that turned down the lane sent Emma’s heart into a rapid rhythm. Perhaps someone was bringing the girls home. Perhaps it had all been a mistake. But the truck was Stuart’s. It came to a stop, and Henry went over to explain to Stuart and Silas the situation as Emma stood with the boys, watching through the rain, watching down the road for the headlights from the sheriff’s vehicle.
Ten minutes later Grayson turned into the lane and offered the four of them a ride. They piled in with their muddy shoes and damp clothes and dripping umbrellas. By the time they reached t
he front of the house, there was quite a collection of buggies and vehicles parked there.
Stuart had stayed, in case his truck was needed.
Daniel was staying, insisting that he could help with the search once it began.
Clyde hadn’t unhitched Cinnamon, wanting to be ready if they needed to go somewhere to pick up the girls.
Rachel’s face was tearstained, but her demeanor was calmer.
She was the first to address Grayson as he climbed the steps.
“Something’s happened,” she said with certainty. “Katie Ann knew how important it was to come straight back. Something had to have happened.”
“Clyde gave me a brief summary of what led up to this. She was with the other girl… with Naomi?”
“Yes, and I specifically told them both to be home well before dark.”
“Abigail told Naomi the same as well.” Daniel pinched the skin at his throat. “She’s a gut girl. She wouldn’t have disobeyed us.”
Grayson cleared his throat, stood with his hands on his hips, and stared out at the rain. When he finally looked up, Emma knew she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
“They’re adults. The fact that they’re out after dark doesn’t mean something nefarious has happened.”
“What does nefarious mean?” Stephen asked.
“Bad.” Thomas’s voice was strained, as if he were trying to keep from crying.
“You’re not saying that you won’t look.” Henry’s voice was authoritative and confident.
“I am not saying that. I’ve already alerted all of our patrol officers. Clyde gave me a good description of both girls, which I shared with everyone on patrol tonight.”
“So you will help.” Emma hugged her arms around her waist, hoping to keep the fear at bay.
“What I am saying is that I can’t put out an official BOLO until they’ve been missing at least twenty-four hours.”
“That’s too long.” Rachel’s voice sounded as if it was coming from the other side of the valley. As if she wasn’t even speaking to them, but rather to a chasm opening in her heart. “It’s too long. We have to do something now. We have to look for them tonight.”
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