by Leanna Ellis
There. That was good. She’d toss the book in the Dumpster. Then she’d go have a drink. Or two. Or ten.
She breathed easier now, expanding her lungs and drawing in the promise of hope. Her life wasn’t over. So what if Samuel had left? Who needed him? There were plenty more men out there, just waiting for a chance to meet a woman like her. She’d be more particular this time. She wouldn’t get some stupid farm boy. No way. She’d find a man, a real man, a grown man, who wore a dignified suit. Maybe one who worked in a bank. One who made lots of money. Somebody who knew how to treat a woman.
Buying into that hope, she grabbed her keys and snatched up the book. But she bypassed the Dumpster. What would be the point? Samuel wouldn’t know if she threw it away. Or care. Worse, he’d never do that to her. With a heavy sigh, she reconsidered her initial plan. What she loved…liked about Samuel was that he always did the right thing. And the right thing to do was return the book to the library. Yes, that’s what she would do. Tonight. Then she’d move on.
The drop-off box at the library had cones blocking the lane, so she parked and carried the book to the return box. She held open the latch, placed the book in the opening, but couldn’t release it. For one long moment, she clung to the book as if it was all she had left of Samuel. Maybe she should keep it, just for another couple of weeks, in hopes that Samuel would return.
But then she’d be waiting for him.
“How’d the book work for you?” a male voice said, startling her.
She spun around, the slot clanking at her quick release. Pressing the book against her abdomen, she stared at a guy not much taller than her. He stood near the driver’s door of a Ford pickup truck. “Do I know you?”
“You’re Andi, right?”
Her gaze narrowed. Her heart thudded. Had this guy followed her from the club?
He didn’t advance toward her but kept several feet between them. Slowly, he flipped a set of keys around his index finger. He kept his gaze on hers, not looking down the way most men did. Maybe he was gay. He had that buffed and polished look. “Don’t worry, you don’t know me,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “I only know about you because of Samuel.”
Samuel. He knew Samuel? She released a pent-up breath, but her brow remained puckered. “How do you know him?”
“I was helping him do some research here at the library.”
“I see.” A nerd, but a nerd who knew Samuel. And a decent looking one at that. “I’m not sure if the book helped or not. Samuel had to leave town.”
“Good thing about the library, he can always check ’em out again.”
She didn’t care. Yet she held on to the book and walked back toward her car, fingering her own set of keys. Maybe this idiot could be upbeat about the whole scenario but she couldn’t. Not yet.
Then he stood beside her, not brushing against her, not touching her in any way, yet there. Only slightly taller than her, he still outweighed her by much more. Not that he was overweight. She could see the bulge of muscle through his shirtsleeves.
“I’m Brydon, by the way.” Up close, he had a nice smile, straight teeth, and decent clothes. For a nerd. “Let Samuel know that if he needs anything else…”
But she blocked out the rest of what he said as an idea occurred to her. The book she carried turned out to be about laws. Written by someone named Crowley. Was this a business book? A judicial one? Why was Samuel reading this? The cover looked worn, the text and binding from another time, and yet it appeared from the plastic-coated cover as if few had checked it out. Not a bestseller. When she’d first gone out with Samuel, he hadn’t been much of a reader. Why now? Did it have something to do with his dead brother? If there was a trail, then maybe she could follow…or even lead, if she could figure out what he was searching for.
The librarian took a step toward her, and she gave him a slow once-over meant to intimidate. He had a way of standing, a slouch really, dipping one shoulder as if he didn’t have much confidence. She suspected he was harmless. “Maybe we could both help Samuel.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Do you know anything about this, Bryon?”
“Brydon,” he corrected her, emphasizing the last syllable. “I might.”
“So you wanna have a drink and discuss it?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “What’s in it for me?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
Nodding, he said, “No use taking two cars.”
She gave him her most beguiling smile. “I’ll drive.”
A few minutes later, the silence in her Toyota Yaris was unnerving as she felt Brydon’s gaze stuck on her—even when she jerked the wheel and switched lanes. Nervous, she stirred her thoughts for something to say. Just above his collar peeked the jagged edge of a white, lumpy scar. “What happened to your neck?”
Only then did he look away from her. He rubbed a hand over it. “Car accident.”
“Some accident.”
“You should have seen the car.”
Awkwardness unsettled her stomach. She punched in a CD to fill the silence and “Stairway to Heaven” blared from the speakers. She gauged his reaction. Samuel had never particularly liked her taste in music, but Brydon kept time, thumb against thigh.
“You like Led Zeppelin?” she asked.
He gave her a sly smile. “Did you know there’s a connection—” he thumbed toward the backseat—“between the band and your book?”
“My book?” In the rearview mirror, she couldn’t see the book on the seat. But its presence loomed, filling the spaces in the car with shadows. “It’s not mine.”
“There’s still a connection.”
Chapter Eleven
It was after dark when he arrived, late by Amish standards, as most households turned in at the close of daylight. Each farmhouse Samuel passed looked as innocent as a sleeping babe. Night snuggled in, shadows deepened, and the cool spring air burrowed into his bones. His cheeks felt numb, his ears hollow from the wind, and his backside dead from the thrum of the motorcycle.
Samuel found the Yoder’s homestead, which now belonged to Levi and Hannah Fisher. He remembered his mother telling him that poor Ruby Yoder had died. Was that why her family had left Lancaster County? Had they wanted to escape the memories the way Pop had wanted to put distance between his family and Jacob’s death?
His old home was not far from the Yoder’s, just out Slow Gait Road, but he didn’t bother going by, not at this time of night—maybe never. Someone else lived there now. He didn’t even know who had bought the shop and house; he’d never asked. Would it do any good to stir up old memories and more pain? But wasn’t that what he was doing in his quest to connect with Jacob?
Shoving aside confusing thoughts, he turned onto the gravel drive. The headlight of his motorcycle cut through the darkness and shone across the mailbox, which read Fisher, and the beam slanted over a wagon and push-powered lawn mower. Not much else could be seen in the dark, but a distant yellow light highlighted one window along the front of the house. From his past visits to the farm, when he was a boy, he knew the barn was off to the left, near the silo, and the washhouse to the right, near the garden. Pasture and farmland extended out behind the one-story house. He wondered if Levi had plans to expand the quaint house as his family grew.
A shagbark hickory provided shelter for his bike. The three-quarter moon slid out from behind a cloud and revealed the tree’s bare branches, stretching outward in all directions. As he walked toward the house, the white-painted porch railing glowed like ghost’s teeth. An odd feeling stirred the hair at the back of his neck as Samuel climbed the steps. Before he could knock, the door swung open.
“Samuel?” Hannah Schmidt Fisher greeted her brother-in-law with a warm and welcoming smile. She wore her blond hair pulled back in the traditional Amish style, beneath a prayer cap. Tiredness crinkled the
corners of her eyes, but she still looked happy and content. No longer the skinny young girl he’d known a few years back before he’d moved with his folks to Ohio, her figure was now a bit plumper and her face rounder. But then again, she’d just had twins.
“Come on in,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. She gave him a hug as he came through the door. “Did you eat on the way? Or are you hungry?”
He laughed softly. “I ate, but…”
Her grin widened, highlighted by the flickering light of the kerosene lamp. “But you could probably eat again, ja? Come, sit at the table, and I’ll fix you a plate.”
She led him into the kitchen, which looked like most other Amish kitchens. A propane-powered refrigerator took up space in the corner. An eating table sat in the middle of the room. A calendar hung on one wall. It had not yet been turned to April, and the picture above the March grid was of a meadow filled with yellow buttercups. Next to the stove, two quilted potholders hung not only for decoration but purpose.
While she scooped food out of containers, she caught him up on the latest. “The babies are sleeping, but they’ll be wanting a snack soon.”
“Pop said they were healthy.”
“Oh, ja. We are blessed. Levi went to bed early, plumb worn out.”
“I can see them all in the morning,” Samuel said, his stomach rumbling as he smelled the delicious scents coming from the stove. “I’m sorry I kept you awake.”
“I was glad to stay up.” Hannah pulled a plate from the cabinet. “I like the quiet when everyone has settled down for the night. It’s the only chance I have now to breathe deep and reflect.” She faced him, plate in hand. “Levi was so excited when he heard you were coming.”
Hannah set a plate in front of him. Roasted pork, creamed sweet potatoes, green beans, and pearl onions, along with two slices of bread, filled the plate to overflowing. She added a glass of sweet tea next to the fork.
“Danke, Hannah. This looks awful good.”
“I hope it will be enough to fill you. But if not, there’s more, along with a butterscotch pie for dessert.”
“If I’m not careful, I’ll grow lazy and fat with all this good cooking.”
She sat opposite him. “We’ll see if we can’t find something for you to do around here. Levi and I appreciate you coming all this way.”
He offered a quiet prayer of thanks, then set about eating. “How is Levi?”
“Right as rain.” Another voice supplied the answer. His big brother leaned against the doorframe, his shirt loose and unbuttoned, one sleeve empty and limp at his side. An arm crossed his bare stomach, and his other hand gripped a wooden cane. A bandage encircled his rib cage, and dark bruises emerged from beneath.
Tightness seized Samuel’s chest. Pop hadn’t lied. Levi was hurt. He jumped up from the table and rushed toward Levi. It had been over three years since he’d seen his oldest brother, but he stopped just shy of giving Levi a big, bone-crushing hug. Grinning at the beard Levi had grown since he’d last seen him—the sign of a married man—Samuel clapped him on the shoulder.
Levi winced yet still grinned back. “It’s awful good to see you, Samuel.”
“I reckon he may be taller than you now, Levi.” Hannah smiled at the two brothers, who eyed each other levelly. She moved between them and slid Levi’s other arm through his sleeve, then settled the shirt on his shoulders.
“And stronger,” Samuel added.
“That’s not too difficult, given my poor state of late.” Levi peered closer at Samuel’s chin. “You having to shave yet?”
“Three times a day,” Samuel joked.
“Time to find this man a bride then.” Levi winked.
“I’ll wait for a while on that.” Samuel helped his brother to the table. “Right as rain, eh?”
“Let Samuel eat while the food is hot,” Hannah chided softly. “Would you like some pie now, Levi?”
“Of course. I smelled that butterscotch baking. Woke me from a sound sleep.”
“Your stomach rumbling probably woke you.” She tilted her head toward Samuel and lowered her voice. “He hasn’t been eating well since the accident, so I’ve been tempting him with his favorites.” She went to the counter and cut the pie, sliding big, thick pieces onto plates.
“What did happen that caused all this?” Samuel eyed his brother’s weakened condition.
“You two have much to talk about.” Hannah carried the plates to the table. “So I’m going off to bed if you don’t mind. The boys will have me up soon enough.”
“It’s good to see you, Hannah.” Samuel nodded toward his sister-in-law. “Danke for the good meal. You’re an awful good cook.”
“You’re always welcome here, Samuel. But I can’t take the credit for the meal. It was Naomi who cooked all of this for us.”
“Naomi?” Samuel asked.
“Naomi Wagler,” she clarified. “She’s about your age, I believe. Are you eighteen now?”
“Almost twenty.” His voice sounded strangled.
“You remember the Wagler family, don’t you?” Levi asked. “Lizzie, Noah, Nathan, Grace, Naomi…”
Oh, he remembered her. Her family. Samuel’s heart kicked up a notch, and he forced himself to add to the list of Wagler children. “And Dan, but I can’t remember the little one.”
“Deborah.” Hannah smiled. “But they have two more now: Matthew and Mary.”
“I have a lot to catch up on,” he said, wondering what he would say to Naomi when…if he saw her again. Of course, he would see her. It was too small of a community not to bump into someone.
“There’s plenty of time.” Hannah hid a yawn behind her hand. “Samuel, you’ll be sleeping in the back bedroom. Levi can point you in the right direction. If you need anything, let me know.” She placed a hand tenderly on her husband’s shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late, Levi. Just leave the dishes, and I’ll clean up in the morning.”
“I’ll be along shortly,” Levi reassured her. “But first I’m going to enjoy this pie.”
Smiling, she left the room.
The two brothers ate in silence. For a moment, it felt like old times. Samuel remembered when Levi, Jacob, and he had gobbled up their mother’s cookies, snatched muffins, and gorged on whole loaves of hot bread. Samuel had tried to keep up with his older brothers, who had been able to stuff more food in their stomachs. But if Levi could eat a whole pie, then Samuel could eat two. If Jacob ran two miles, then Samuel ran three. Looking back now, Samuel realized his older brothers had egged him on. Once Jacob bragged, “I ate thirteen apples!” So of course, Samuel had to beat that, and he had managed fourteen and a half. But he’d paid the price for that overindulgence.
Mamm had laughed at their antics. “You boys must have hollow legs.”
She’d always been proud of her three and enjoyed cooking for them. Now the family was separated by too many miles and too much heartbreak.
When Samuel finished his second piece of butterscotch pie, he scraped the plates and cleaned up, so Hannah wouldn’t have to in the morning. She had enough to keep her busy with two babies and an injured husband. Knowing Levi was indeed hurt changed Samuel’s plan. He would have to help his brother. But for how long?
“We can discuss what needs doing tomorrow at breakfast,” Samuel said, seeing the circles beneath his brother’s eyes. No matter what Levi said, he obviously wasn’t well. “I’ll get up and feed the stock. That much I can figure out on my own.”
Levi nodded, explained which animals needed special care or food, and then they headed off to separate beds, Samuel watching his brother’s slow, careful footsteps. At the door to his bedroom, Levi turned back. “I’m glad you’re here, Samuel.”
“Me too.”
“Even if you eat like an elephant.” Levi grinned.
With a matching smile, Samuel said, “That’s why I’m taller.”
Chapter Twelve
What potions have I drunk of Siren tears…
With realization came a sharp inhalation. No. He couldn’t go there.
Jacob turned away from the Amish farm they approached. Words failed him even now. The landscape of tranquil countryside stretched outward in peaceful waves, a respite from the turmoil of this world. Home. Yet not anymore. Not for a long time. Still, awareness stirred tumultuous emotions he could not begin to decipher. He simply couldn’t go into that home.
He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew. She was there.
He couldn’t see her. Not again. Not now. Not ever.
Hannah. He had loved her, yearned for her, and yet he’d also hated her. She’d driven him mad with desire, and he’d come back for her, hoping to change her as he’d been changed so they could live together. Forever.
He’d never expected her to be a pushover, and so he’d set in motion a plan to cajole and lure her toward him. But she’d given her heart to Levi. His own brother. Now they were married.
So how could he look into the depths of her eyes again? How could he watch her with Levi? Know her heart had chosen another? And yet how could he not see her for what might be the last time?
“Did you not say you wanted to help Samuel?” Remiel asked, brushing past him.
Jacob watched the angel approach the lonely farmhouse as if all was safe and well, as if there were nothing to fear in such a tranquil place. Then the angel circled back and peered closely at Jacob. “What is it you fear?”
A fierce resilience reared inside him. Jacob had never feared anything. Truth sliced through him. That was not the honest answer. He’d feared losing Hannah. He’d feared living for eternity without her. But mostly, he’d feared dying—because he knew what he deserved. Now seeing Hannah again might be more torture than being doomed to hell, and so beneath the beam of Remiel’s gaze, he confessed, “I fear seeing her.”