The Silent Order

by Melanie Dobson

  He cleared his throat. “You should be tired.”

  “You should be tired too.”

  He shifted in the hay, scooting away from her an inch or two, and then he felt silly. She would wonder why he was moving away.

  “Let’s go to sleep,” he said.

  “Uh-huh,” she replied, her voice fading.

  He rolled onto one shoulder, away from her. “Isaac and Erma will be worried.”

  “Ya. But Erma will continue to pray.”

  “We could use some help from above.”

  “God always listens, Rollin, but that doesn’t mean He will choose to rescue us.”

  That was his problem. In his experience, God’s hands seemed to be tied, like He was up there but unable to stop the bad from happening.

  “Then what’s the point of praying?”

  “To ask God to guide us where He wants us to go,” she said. “And ask that we are wise enough to follow in the direction He leads.”

  “Let’s hope His direction leads us right out of this barn.”

  Katie shivered in the night air.

  “Are you cold?” he whispered.

  “A little.”

  Night air seeped through the cracks in the siding, and Katie shivered again. Sleep would be a long time in coming—for both of them—if she was cold. With his jacket hidden in the tree, all he had to offer her for warmth was himself, but what if he reached out now and she pushed him away? He would be here all night, beside her, humiliated by her rejection.

  But he couldn’t let her be cold either.

  “My jacket—”

  “Don’t worry about me, Rollin.”

  He hesitated before he stretched out his right arm. “I could try and keep you warm tonight.”

  Silence lingered between them as the mice shuffled over the worn floor on the other side of the barn. He’d presented his offer as kindly as possible, one old friend helping another, but she didn’t say a word. Not a thank you or an uncomfortable laugh or even a flat-out rejection. He would have preferred a rejection to the stone-cold silence.

  He pulled his arm back to his side, and he was almost ready to slink back into the corner when she spoke.

  “How are you planning to keep me warm?” He could hear the soft hint of teasing in her voice.

  “I…” He started. “All I have are my arms.”

  “All right then,” she said, edging toward him.

  When he opened his arms again, they swallowed her. Her head on his chest, he could feel her body with every beat of his heart. With every swell of his breath. He only wished he could feel her hair against his face instead of the starched material on her bonnet.

  Even as her headpiece scratched his chin, he didn’t say anything to interrupt the sweet moment. It was bliss, being here with her tonight. He didn’t care anymore about the Cardano brothers below or the fact that Malloy was probably close by. It was only he and Katie for these short hours. And she was resting in his arms.

  Minutes later, she shifted again, and he was afraid she was moving away from him. Reluctantly, he released her, and she sat up.

  “Are you comfortable?” he asked.

  “Ya.” Her fingers reached up to her bonnet, slipping pins from her hair, and she took the material off and laid it beside her. “Now I can rest.”

  He softly brushed her hair away from her face, back behind her ears and her neck. Tonight he wouldn’t have to wake her up to go back to the house. He could hold her all night long.

  He wanted to tell her that he didn’t care if she was a Cardano or a Lehman. He didn’t care that she was Liz’s sister or the mother of Henry Lehman. He only wanted to be with her.

  Her breathing slowed, and he could feel the weariness settling over his bones, but he couldn’t sleep. How was he going to get any rest with Katie Lehman at his side?

  CHAPTER 27

  Celeste watched the sunrise from an intersection in Canton. Her hands on the steering wheel, she looked both directions, but she didn’t know which way to go. Last night she’d started back to Cleveland and made it an hour north before she stopped. She didn’t want to go back to her shell of a house when both her children were in Sugarcreek.

  It hadn’t been hard to find a speakeasy last night, and in her fine attire, the maître d’ let her inside without an inquisition. She hadn’t danced or drunk in a nightclub since long before the beginning of Prohibition. Salvatore could go to all the clubs he wanted, but his reputation would be bruised if his wife were caught drinking at one, so he kept her supplied at home instead.

  But being at the speakeasy exhilarated her last night. The music and the dancing and the seemingly endless supply of fine wine. She hadn’t tasted red wine on her lips for such a long time. It felt like a small piece of her was returning home, much more so than her trip back to Sugarcreek.

  When they finally shut down the club for the night, she’d stumbled back to the hotel and flirted with the hotel manager as he escorted her to her room. Not that the manager reciprocated—he was aggravated that she’d awakened him from his sleep—but for the first time in a very long time, she felt alive.

  She wanted to spend her nights dancing again. Wear finery the masses would admire. She wanted to dance her extra pounds away so she felt beautiful again. She wanted men like the hotel manager to flirt back with her instead of dumping her off in her room alone.

  When she woke up this morning, in that lumpy hotel room bed, her heart was pounding. Not from the alcohol, but from the music of last night’s jazz band still ringing in her ears. She’d only heard music like that on the radio, and even though it was loud, she adored it. Her headache would fade away this morning, but she hoped the memory of her night out never would.

  A green airplane with yellow wings flew over the shops in Canton and breezed past her without acknowledging that she was below. The plane looked like the one Salvatore purchased last year so he could visit the places in the country that supplied him with the goods necessary for his business. He didn’t tell her about the airplane, of course, but he’d described the machine to Antonio in detail. Never before had she heard him speak with such pride. It was like he’d given birth to a child who finally met his expectations.

  The tail of the plane faded in the morning light.

  Celeste looked right, at the road leading back to Cleveland, and then she looked left.

  Starting the car, she didn’t hesitate as she pulled forward.

  There was nothing left for her in Cleveland.

  She would follow the airplane back to Sugarcreek.

  *

  The airplane roared over the barn, startling Katie awake, but she lay still in Rollin’s arms. When she was younger, she’d dreamt for hours about what it would be like to be close to Rollin, and now here she was, closer to him than she’d ever imagined possible. And it was better than she’d ever imagined.

  Ruth had always been one of Katie’s favorite women in the Bible, especially when she made the right choice to leave behind the evil in her past to follow God. Was this how Ruth felt when she woke up at Boaz’s feet? Her heart filled with the richness of being near the one she loved.

  Katie snuggled closer to Rollin, to the place where she was safe. Antonio and Salvatore and the others could do what they wanted.

  Light streamed into the barn, and she heard a voice outside. She didn’t want to move away from Rollin, but they had to get out of here. Once the men started arriving, they’d never be able to leave.

  “Rollin,” she whispered, gently prodding his arm. “It’s time to get up.”

  He opened his eyes slowly, like he was savoring the memory as well, and he smiled at her.

  “Good morning,” he said quietly as he raked his fingers through his hair.

  She scooted back from him and slid her bonnet over her head. She wanted to stay hours longer, before the world encroached on their solitude, but she tied the strings around her chin instead so she wouldn’t lose it down the tree.

  As Rollin opened the shutt
ers, she moved to the side of the loft and glanced over the railing. Four men were asleep downstairs, spread out on blankets, and one man was asleep on a cot. Rollin motioned to her, and she tiptoed toward the window, praying her footsteps wouldn’t wake the men below.

  He started out the window, but she tapped his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Follow me.”

  She thought he might protest, but he let her slide by him. Her hands and bare feet grasped the familiar knobs and branches as she hustled down the limbs. She swept Rollin’s hat in one hand and carried it to the bottom. With a glance both ways under the tree, she hopped onto the ground and shuffled into the cover of the forest.

  Holding her breath, she watched Rollin snake down through the limbs. It didn’t matter that Erma had given Rollin his pistol. If they were caught, there weren’t enough bullets in Rollin’s gun to stop the men.

  A squirrel scampered toward her hiding place, and she shooed it away before someone heard it. The seconds turned to minutes, crawling in her mind. Finally she saw his feet straddling the sides of the bottom limb. Hitting the ground.

  His crumpled jacket strung over his good arm, Rollin ducked and rushed toward the trees.

  The walk back to the Lehmans’ house took forty-five minutes, and they talked about their early years, growing up in the city. She didn’t want to talk about last night, and he didn’t mention it either. They were two old acquaintances, thrown together for the night in a barn. It was nothing. Meant nothing.

  But Isaac and Erma would know they hadn’t come home last night, and she was mortified at what they might think.

  Filled platters and bowls waited for them on the kitchen table, and she silently blessed her aunt for making them a feast. Rollin dug into the hotcakes and bacon at the table alongside her, and her mouth was filled with hotcakes when Isaac walked into the kitchen. He walked past them in silence, filling a cup with coffee.

  He took a long sip before facing her. “Where were you last night?”

  “At the Bowmans’ barn.”

  “Henry asked why you weren’t in your bed this morning, and I didn’t know what to tell him.”

  “You don’t have to tell him anything.” She rested her fork on the plate. “I will tell him where I was.”

  Isaac circled the air with his cup. “I don’t know what you two are doing, but I can no longer allow it in my home. You’ve come and gone as you pleased this week, Katie, with no thought to the rest of the family or your son.”

  No thought to her son. His words drilled through her chest, blasting her heart. All she did was for the best of her son. Or it usually was. This week she had been distracted by the appearance of Rollin Wells and her family.

  Words poured out of her mouth, trying to say how sorry she was, but she wasn’t making much sense. She never meant to do anything wrong. She’d been torn between what was right to do for Henry and Rollin and the people in her community.

  Rollin shoved back his chair and stood. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  Isaac didn’t move. “Your standard of what is right and what is wrong is very different from ours.”

  Katie’s face burned under Isaac’s scrutiny, her mind wandering back to her night in the barn. She’d rested her head on Rollin’s chest. Not just for warmth, but for the pleasure of being wrapped in his arms. She never should have let herself be close to him. She should have moved to the other side of the barn and slept alone.

  “I want to help Rollin.” Her gaze traveled between Rollin and her uncle. “Help him stop the people who killed my sister…and the people who would kill Henry and me if they knew we were still alive.”

  Isaac shook his head. “Vengeance is the Lord’s, Katie, not yours.”

  “There is a big difference between vengeance and justice,” Rollin said.

  “And which drives you, Rollin Wells? Vengeance or justice?”

  Rollin leaned back against his seat, his lips silent. He might want vengeance, but vengeance no longer drove Katie—she’d forgiven her father and her brother and the others a long time ago. What she wanted was for them to stop using the justice system for their own good and stop hurting innocent people in their mad quest for power.

  “I want to be free of the Cardano family,” she tried to explain. “I don’t want to hurt them. I just want them to be in jail where they belong.”

  Isaac started to say something, but Rollin stopped him.

  “You ever have wolves on your property?” he asked.

  “I’ve never seen one.”

  “How about a coyote?”

  “Of course.”

  “What if a coyote attacked some of your cows or got in your chicken coop?”

  Isaac’s head fell a notch, but he kept his eyes on Rollin. “I’d make him leave.”

  “By talking him out of it?”

  “No—”

  “With your shotgun?”

  “It is different.”

  “God gave us the ability to protect our women and children from men like the Cardanos, and I believe it’s more important to keep them safe than to keep coyotes away from chickens or cows.”

  She heard Henry’s feet pounding down the staircase. When he raced into the room, he sprang into Katie’s arms and hugged her shoulders. “I was so worried about you, Mamm.”

  She tweaked his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I didn’t know where you had gone.”

  Rollin looked back at Isaac. “Could you take me back to Sugarcreek this afternoon to use the telephone?”

  “Are you calling another friend to come get you?” Isaac asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m calling a friend to help me.”

  “I won’t have anything to do with it,” Isaac said before he turned to Henry. “I need your help in the field today.”

  Isaac stomped out, and the room quieted for a moment. Henry looked to her for an answer.

  “Isaac is having a rough morning,” she tried to explain.

  He lowered his voice, like Rollin wasn’t right next to him. “He doesn’t like Rollin Wells, does he?”

  “It’s not that…”

  “Henry’s right.” Rollin picked up his dishes and put them in the sink. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “Why not?” Henry asked.

  Rollin’s eyes pleaded for her to answer.

  “Isaac just doesn’t understand,” she said.

  Like Erma, Isaac had grown up in a community that loved and served each other. He didn’t know much about a world where people lived solely to please themselves. And where they made big plans to grow wealthy without working.

  Work was the backbone of the Amish society. Work and respect for each other and for Gott.

  “I’ll take you to Sugarcreek,” she volunteered. “I just have to get cleaned up first.”

  “Can I go too?” Henry asked.

  When Rollin looked at her, she shook her head.

  “Isaac needs you in the field,” Rollin said. “But I was hoping to play a bit of softball before I went to town.”

  Henry hopped toward him. “I have a softball!”

  “Oh, good,” Rollin said, winking at her. “But we’d need a bat as well.”

  Henry clapped. “I have one of those too.”

  From her bedroom window, Katie watched them play. Rollin throwing the softball. Henry hitting it. And she couldn’t tell who was having more fun. A week in the country had been good for Rollin. It was almost like no one was chasing him.

  After she poured water into a basin, Katie washed the dirt from her skin, but she couldn’t rid herself of the strength in Rollin’s arms or how his tenderness made her feel. He treated her with respect last night. Like a little sister even. Liz’s little sister.

  Sighing, she brushed the remnants of hay from her hair. Outside the window she heard the crack of the ball against bat. Laughter. It warmed her heart, even more than the hours she spent sleeping on Rollin’s chest.

  She picked a light blue dress from a hook and beg
an pinning it around her. Then she looked out the window again at her son and Rollin playing.

  He was changing so quickly. It wouldn’t be long before her son reached adolescence and would need to determine on his own whether or not he wanted to join the Amish church. As she watched Henry hit the softball, she knew what her son would decide. He would choose to leave their community.

  No matter how much she wanted him to stay in their secure world, she wouldn’t try to manipulate him into spending the rest of his life as an Amish man when his heart was full of passion and determination and a thirst for adventure and progress.

  Her mother was right. She shouldn’t hold Henry back from what he was meant to do.

  CHAPTER 28

  “They’re inviting leaders from across Ohio.” Rollin tried to whisper into the payphone, but he felt like he was shouting across the static. Even with the glass booth around him, it felt like everyone outside IGA and across half the town could hear him, but somehow he had to convey to his former partner what was happening near Sugarcreek without telling him all the details.

  He slid another nickel into the phone and kept talking. “The big guy is here.”

  “Salvatore?”

  “No…the other one.”

  Gilbert paused for a moment and then swore. “Where did they find him?”

  “No idea, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s here, and the others will arrive tonight.”

  “I’m on my way,” Gilbert said.

  It was what he wanted to hear, but instead of picturing Gilbert fighting alongside him, he saw Lance grinning at him in his new coupe. Gilbert had four grandchildren and a wife of forty-plus years.

  “I don’t know, Gil.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think,” his former partner replied. “I’ve been waiting my whole career for this.”

  Rollin leaned back against the wall. He’d been waiting his whole career for this as well. Isaac was right this morning. He didn’t want justice alone for the Cardanos. He wanted vengeance. And once he got it, there was nothing left for him to chase.