The Silent Order

by Melanie Dobson

  He sighed. “So how else can I get inside?”

  “I’ll show you tonight.”

  “Oh, no…”

  “Do you think you can climb with your injured arm?”

  He put his hand over the bandage. “Climb what?”

  She pinched the ribbon that threaded over her shoulder and fiddled with it. There had to be a way to convince him not to go back alone.

  “Did you see my father at the barn?” she finally asked.

  He hesitated. “No.”

  “My brother then?”

  His response was a nod, ever so slight.

  “I haven’t seen Antonio since I left Cleveland.”

  “I wish I hadn’t seen him since you left either.”

  “He’s becoming just like my father, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Do you really think Antonio will leave the barn doors unguarded?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Rollin.”

  The sun faded over the forest beside them, its beams piercing through the leaves and branches. She shielded her eyes until the shimmering light surrendered to the night.

  “When I was six, a boy named Ralph tied one of my braids to the back of my chair in school. Antonio talked another boy into beating Ralph up for it, and no one in my class ever played a prank on me again. Even though he wasn’t the strongest or the tallest kid in school, they were all afraid of what my big brother could do.”

  “He got another kid to fight for you?”

  “He never did the bloody work himself.”

  Rollin turned the cart into their driveway. “Unlike your father.”

  “He wanted to be just like our father, except Antonio always took care of our family. With my father, it was optional.”

  When he looked at her, she saw pity in his eyes. Even though she didn’t want him to feel sorry for her, she was grateful that he understood. Family was important to her father, but it was all about showmanship. How good his family looked and acted reflected on him. Power was what drove him. Power and respect. While her entire family thrived on the income made by their father’s business dealings, Antonio was the only other one in their family who hungered for power and respect.

  Antonio might not have the stomach to murder someone himself, but he had no problem getting someone else to do the dirty work for him. If they caught Rollin tonight, she had no doubt he was as good as dead. Antonio, though, might have compassion on her. If some of that big brother instinct remained, he would make sure the others wouldn’t hurt her.

  Crossing her arms, Katie looked at the outline of Isaac and Erma’s home as they rolled up the hill. Lanterns brightened the front rooms, showering light onto the lawn and barn.

  Henry shouted from the front porch, and Katie hopped out of the buggy before it stopped. She wrapped both arms around her son and squeezed him like she hadn’t seen him for days instead of hours.

  “I missed you,” she said, kissing his hair.

  Not for one second did she regret taking him with her when she left Cleveland. If they had stayed, her son would have followed the Cardanos’ quest for power like Antonio, and neither Heyward Malloy nor her uncles would have let her live to watch Henry grow up, not after what she saw.

  Rollin was right. She and Henry were no longer Cardanos. They were part of the Lehman family, and the past was behind them.

  “Did you sell all your eggs?” Henry asked, looking down at the smeared egg yolk that coated the basket in her hands.

  She hesitated. “I actually stopped at Ruth’s on my way to town and left them there.”

  She didn’t tell him she’d left most of them crushed on the Yoders’ land.

  He clapped his hands. “Did Ruth send me some cookies?”

  Rollin joined them, patting Henry on the back. “She sent her love, champ.”

  “But I wanted cookies.”

  “Next time we visit, I’m sure she’ll give you something good to eat.”

  Henry shoved the rocks on the driveway with his toes, making a circle. “Someone came to visit you today, Mamm.”

  She caught Rollin’s eye in the dim light and saw his concern.

  “You mean the men in the black cars?” Rollin asked.

  “It was a woman,” he said. “She drove a brown automobile.”

  “A woman?” She hadn’t made a single English girlfriend since she moved here. “What was her name?”

  He scratched his head like it would help him recall the woman’s name. “I don’t think she told me.”

  Rollin moved closer to Henry. “What exactly did she look like?”

  “Her hair was short and real puffy and she talked low, like this,” Henry said, dipping his voice to demonstrate. “There was a string of tiny balls around her neck that she kept playing with.”

  Rollin glanced at her. “Balls?”

  “I think he means pearls.”

  Henry kept talking. “She asked me about you and Erma and even Josiah and Laban.”

  Perhaps it was an Amish woman who’d left their community and was returning for a visit, but it was strange that she would be asking about Erma’s sons. “How did the woman know about Josiah and Laban?”

  “She just knew.” Henry shrugged. “She was really nice until we saw the airplane. Then she made me hide under the trees.”

  Rollin was watching her, and his eyes mirrored the anxiety in hers. Who was looking for her and why did this woman make her son hide from the airplane?

  One of the dogs started barking, and then the others joined in their warning. Her back bristled, her eyes searching the darkness below the house. Then she heard a crunch of gravel, and a sharp light streaked up the driveway, blinded her. Instinctively she shielded her eyes against the headlamps, and with her other hand, she pushed Henry toward the porch.

  “Get inside the house,” she whispered. “To your hiding place.”

  “Mamm…”

  “And don’t leave it until I come for you.”

  Her son started to protest again, but she shoved him even harder, imploring him, and he scrambled up the stairs. The door banged behind him and the sound rumbled across the hill.

  Slowly, the car moved closer toward them, the wheels grating over the rocks.

  She nudged Rollin’s arm. “You better follow him.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “If that’s Nico, and he recognizes you, he’ll kill all of us.”

  Even as the car drew closer, Rollin wavered. “But what if he tries to hurt you?”

  “Bennett here will take care of me.” She rubbed the dog behind the ears, her eyes on Rollin. “You take care of Henry.”

  He hesitated, and for a moment, she was afraid he wouldn’t leave her. In the light of the car’s beams, she could see the conflict in his eyes.

  “I don’t want to lose someone else…” He didn’t finish, but the implication was there. He didn’t want to lose someone else he cared about.

  Her heart fluttered. He cared about her.

  “Please, Rollin,” she begged again.

  When the car stopped about twenty feet from them, he stepped toward the porch. “I’ll be standing inside the front door, with the fire poker in my hand.”

  The headlamps darkened, and the car’s engine made a clunking sound before it silenced. She spread her feet apart, rolled her shoulders back, and glowered at the vehicle.

  Erma and the others wouldn’t condone her fighting, no matter what the reason, but for Henry’s sake, she would stand up against whomever her brother or Heyward Malloy sent. She would fight until they put her in the grave, alongside Liz.

  As she waited for the men to step out of the car, she prayed Henry was hiding in the attic as she’d taught him. And she prayed that Rollin would fight for all their lives, with the fire poker or whatever he could use to stop the men.

  She didn’t want to die, but it was a miracle that she’d lived for so many years after they took Liz. She’d enjoyed a ri
ch life, one full of blessings. She wouldn’t trade the last nine years with Henry for anything.

  The front door of the automobile clicked open, and she held her breath as a shadow emerged.

  *

  “Nicola?” Celeste whispered as she stepped out in the darkness. “Is that you?”

  Silence met her question. She squinted in an attempt to see the features of the woman before her, but all she saw was an outlined form of a dress against the few lights gleaming in the house. Someone had blown out the lanterns as her car drew closer to the house, and she watched Henry and a man rush into the house, leaving this woman to greet her alone.

  She hoped the man wasn’t a coward. She despised cowards.

  “Nikki?” she said.

  This time the woman responded.

  “Who are you?”

  Celeste stepped closer, eyeing the dogs beside the woman. She couldn’t say her name, not until she knew for certain who was standing in front of her.

  “I’m not here to hurt you or anyone,” Celeste said. “I’m just looking for my daughter.”

  The girl’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Mamma?”

  Mamma. The word never sounded so beautiful to Celeste. It wasn’t full of flattery or insult or anger. It was full of wonder and even love.

  Celeste didn’t run to her daughter, nor did she open her arms for a hug, but her steps quickened until she was at Nicola’s side. Her hands weighted at her hips, she and Nicola studied each other. Her daughter had grown into a lovely woman with a simple and strong beauty. She’d never tell her daughter, she wouldn’t want her getting proud. But Nicola, in her bonnet and purple dress, was even prettier than the sister Nicola had once envied for her glamour and style.

  Celeste could see the shock in her daughter’s eyes. And the fear. Celeste opened her mouth, wanting to tell her daughter there was nothing to fear, but her lips wouldn’t seem to move.

  Nicola examined her face, and Celeste wondered what she saw, looking at a mother who’d grown ugly and old. Could she see how tired her mamma had become?

  “What are you doing here, Mamma?”

  She glanced toward the trees, wondering if the leaves had ears. “We have to talk, Nicola, but not out here.”

  “Please don’t call me that name.”

  “Katie...” she said, the name sounding strange. “I was going to wait until morning, but it’s not safe to come in the light.”

  “Antonio is here,” Nicola whispered.

  Celeste brushed her hands over the ruffles on her dress. Her daughter knew. “Have you seen him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m afraid for you.”

  Katie’s voice quieted again. “I’m afraid for Henry.”

  Celeste glanced up toward the porch and looked for her grandson’s eyes peeking through the glass, but she didn’t see him. “Where is our boy?”

  “Henry is my child,” Nicola whispered. “Not our boy.”

  Celeste swallowed hard. Not once did she remember Nicola ever talking back to her, not in the entire sixteen years she’d been at home. The anger ran deep in her daughter’s veins, as it should, but there was something else there. Nicola wasn’t just afraid of Antonio. She was afraid of her mother.

  “Who should we say I am?”

  Nicola hesitated. “A family friend.”

  “A friend,” she repeated. She wanted to tell Henry she was his grandmother, tell him how much she loved him. Perhaps in time she could share her love with Henry. At least Nicola didn’t insist she climb back into her car and leave. Her daughter was still talking to her.

  “Erma will want to see you,” Nicola said.

  She nodded back to the car and the hill beyond. “I shouldn’t stay long.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Squeezing a fire poker in his hand, Rollin pressed his nose against the windowpane to watch for more visitors. The other two dogs were sleeping in the barn tonight, but Bennett lay at his feet, his ears alert. Everything seemed to be quiet outside the house. Isaac snored in the hickory rocker in the family room behind him while Celeste and her older sister Erma chattered like schoolgirls.

  Back in Cleveland, he never would have guessed that Celeste Cardano had grown up an Amish woman, just as he never would have guessed Heyward Malloy had been dancing with the Cardanos and now wanted Rollin dead.

  Rollin twisted the fire poker in his hands, rolling it back and forth.

  Malloy probably knew what was going to happen in that barn. And perhaps some of the other men in his unit knew as well. Malloy’s friends. Lance couldn’t have been one of his men, could he? Was there another reason for them to kill his partner, or had Lance gotten in their way?

  He heard a soft cry behind him, and he turned to see the two sisters holding each other’s hands. He stepped closer to the sitting room.

  “I wish I had a photograph of them to show you,” Erma said. “Or a drawing.”

  “It’s okay.” Celeste pointed to her sister’s chest. “You’ll keep your boys there with you. Always.”

  “After Josiah died…” Erma began. “Some moments I was so angry at God. I didn’t want to bless His name.”

  Rollin looked back out the window, pretending not to listen. But he understood what Erma was saying. Not once had he blessed God’s name since He’d taken Liz away. Instead, he’d cursed God’s name for years.

  “I worked so hard to save them,” Erma said. “But Josiah’s leg was already gone when I got there and there was so much blood. I held him in my arms…”

  As Erma cried, Rollin leaned back against the doorpost.

  Two women from two different worlds, bound together by family and grief. One woman walked through the fire, and her life had been purified with grace and forgiveness and thankfulness for what she had. The other woman walked through fire and her soul was scarred for life.

  Soft steps padded down the staircase, and Bennett perked up, watching Katie until she leaned down to pet him behind his ears. The dog lumbered his body close to her legs, as if he couldn’t get enough of Katie Lehman.

  Rollin nodded toward the stairs. “Is Henry still hiding?”

  “He’s in bed now,” she said. “Fast asleep.”

  Tendrils of wavy hair fell around her face, and he wished he could reach out and tuck them behind her ears. And he wished he could make the worry lines around her eyes disappear.

  “You look like you could sleep as well,” he said.

  “You’re not talking me out of this.”

  His lips turned up into a smile. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  Turning toward the family room, Katie stood alongside him as they watched the two sisters. “They seem glad to be together, don’t they?”

  “Very much.”

  “I never thought I would see my mother again,” Katie whispered. “I thought I didn’t want to see her.”

  He shifted the poker to his other hand. “And now?”

  “I’m…” She hesitated. “I’m glad she came.”

  Rollin nodded toward the women. “You might want to tell her that before we leave.”

  Katie stepped toward the room, and when Erma saw her, she opened her arms and motioned for Katie to join them.

  Rollin knelt down beside Bennett, lifting the dog’s ear. “You don’t think it will take very long, do you?”

  The dog didn’t even bother to look at him. Rollin leaned back against the doorpost and sighed. “Of course it will take a long time.”

  And it wasn’t like he would rush Katie. It might be the last time she ever saw her mother.

  “Thank you for caring so well for Nicola,” he heard Celeste tell Erma.

  “Don’t call me that,” Katie muttered.

  Celeste kept talking. “And for helping take care of our… For taking care of Henry.”

  “I don’t help one bit,” Erma said with a light laugh. “No one takes better care of him than Katie.”

  “I always wanted to get my girls out of Cleveland, but I was never sure how to do it,” Celest
e said. “Until the night of the fire.”

  “The Lord gave us Katie and Henry for a season,” Erma said. “And Isaac and I are both grateful.”

  “He gave them to you, but He took them away from me.”

  “You made the right decision, Mamma,” Katie said. “Being here has been good for both of us.”

  “It’s good that you and Henry have a family who loves you.”

  “Henry will always have a family who loves him,” Katie told her.

  “Perhaps—” Celeste began. “Family is good, Katie, but you have to let Henry find his own way.”

  “Henry’s too young to find his own way.”

  “He’ll find it soon enough.’”

  There was a pause before Katie spoke again. “I’m glad you came to see us, Mamma.”

  Rollin eyed the front door. If he snuck out right now, he could get much closer to the barn in the darkness and circle. With enough persistence, he could find Katie’s way inside without her.

  Reaching for the doorknob, he tried to open it quietly, but the hinges betrayed him with their screech. It was loud enough for Bennett to sit up and Erma to call his name.

  He closed the door and joined the ladies.

  “Are you going out?” Erma asked.

  He nodded at Celeste. “If you can’t tell me what’s happening, I’m going back to Bowmans’ barn to listen.”

  “But what could these people possibly be doing this late at night?” Erma asked.

  Celeste patted her sister’s knee. “Everything they do happens at night.”

  Erma leaned back in her chair. “Irene told me she received a large order to cater an evening wedding at the Bowmans’ barn. She said there are supposed to be fifty guests.”

  Rollin steadied his voice. “And when, exactly, is this ceremony supposed to happen?”

  “Irene is supposed to deliver the food on Friday afternoon.”

  Rollin blinked, trying to remember what day it was.

  “It’s Thursday,” Katie reminded him.

  “Fifty people tomorrow.”

  Erma clucked her tongue. “Tomorrow night.”

  Celeste stood up, dangling a car key in front of her. “Do you want me to take you to this barn?”

  He glanced at Katie, and she nodded.