by Debby Giusti
Where could she hide?
She blinked, getting used to the darkness, and headed to the stalls in the rear. Where would he first look, if he entered?
She shook her head, confused as to what to do.
Outside a car door slammed. She envisioned Wagner climbing Katherine’s porch steps and heard a distant knock on the door.
A ladder led to the hayloft above. Climbing would be difficult with a twisted ankle, but she would be able to hide there out of sight. At least that was her hope.
She started up the ladder and groaned. Her leg throbbed when she put weight on it. Hiding in one of the stalls might have been a better choice.
The door to the barn started to open, sending daylight into the darkness. Ignoring the pain, she scurried up the final rungs and scooted behind the bales of hay just as Wagner stepped into the barn.
From her lofty perch, she could see him. He stepped toward the first stall and peered inside, then went to the next one and the next.
Perhaps she had made a good decision after all to hide in the loft. Just as long as he did not look up. Fearing she might be visible, she scooted back farther, causing a bale of hay to wobble and a hen roosting there to squawk.
The hen flapped her wings and flew to the ground below.
Rosie’s heart nearly leaped from her chest. She gripped her hands together as if in prayer, only words would not come. The only thing she could think of was “save me.”
While Gott was silent, her heart was not. It pounded like a freight train.
Larry Wagner sighed. Grabbing the ladder, he climbed one rung after the other, coming closer and closer. She looked around for another exit but found none. The only thing she could do was jump down, but with her bum leg, he would surely get to her before she could escape.
Her hands were wet with sweat, her throat was dry and her pulse raged like a river down a mountain gorge. Her ears roared, yet she could hear his footfalls on each rung as he climbed.
Almost to the top, he stopped. Laughter filled the barn. His laughter.
What was so funny?
A meowing sound, followed by more laughter.
“Well, aren’t you the cutest kitten ever?”
She peered from her hiding spot. A tiny kitten was perched on the edge of the loft. Wagner lifted the ball of fluff into his arms.
“What are you doing up here, scaring that ol’ hen? You made me think someone was hiding from me.” He laughed again. “You haven’t seen a little Amish gal with blond hair, now have you, kitty? She’s got something that could cause me a lot of problems if it got in the wrong hands.”
The cat mewed.
“I’ll come back to talk to Katherine. Maybe she’d want to give you away. I’d like a little fellow like you around.” With the cat in his arms, Wagner climbed down the ladder.
Rosie rested her head against the bale of hay. The sound of his car backing out of the drive brought tears to her eyes again. She had eluded detection thanks to a small kitten. Then she realized who had protected her. She closed her eyes through the tears and gave thanks to Gott.
* * *
Ezra returned home and hurried into the house, expecting to find Rosie. Susan looked up from the rocking chair. Joseph was asleep in her arms.
“Where’s Rosie?” his sister asked.
His heart stuttered. “She has not returned?”
“I thought she was with you.”
Ezra did not wait to hear anything else Susan said. He ran to the barn, threw open the door and peered into Duchess’s empty stall. Climbing back on his horse, he glanced at the trail he had just taken. The only turnoff was the path that led to Katherine’s house.
Surely Rosie had not ventured there without him.
He slapped the reins and guided Duke forward along the trail Ezra and Rosie had traveled yesterday. He shook his head, mentally chastising himself. Why had he sent Rosie off alone? He could have taken the buggy to town later and made inquiries to find out what the police suspected concerning Nan’s death. Instead he had allowed Rosie to travel across the countryside unprotected.
His heart ached and he wanted to scream with concern and worry and, yes, even rage, which was not the Amish way.
He had lost his parents. Would he lose another person he cared for as well?
He scanned the wooded area at the side of the paths, hoping to see some sign of her. Perhaps she had fallen off the mare and was lying at the bottom of a ravine, like when he had first found her.
Suppose the man in the SUV had her? He could have captured her and taken her—
Ezra could not think of such things or he would not be able to go on.
Katherine’s house was not far ahead. Perhaps she was there, sipping tea with her aunt and sharing recipes.
If only that could be, but when he turned the bend and came out from the wooden area, he saw the barn door open and the buggy gone.
To ensure he was right, he searched the barn and knocked on the front and back doors.
“Rosie, where are you?”
The dilapidated barn sat on the rise. The old building had provided protection before. Could she have gone there again?
He stumbled over the rocks as he took a shortcut up the steep incline, needing to find her. Now. Before his heart stopped.
He pulled open the door and stepped into the dark interior, smelling the mix of hay and dung. A dove cooed from the rafters.
“Rosie?”
His heart crashed. He dropped his head into his hands. Where was she?
“Ezra?” A whisper, but her whisper, her voice, soft as silk.
“Rosie, where are you?”
“In the rear—”
Before she could finish, he was at her side, kneeling in the hay, pulling her into his arms. “Oh, Rosie, I was so worried. I thought—I thought...”
He could not say the terrible things that had run through his mind. All he could do was pull her even closer. He wove his fingers through her hair and smelled the sweet scent of her shampoo and felt the softness of her skin and the way she molded to him as if she was drowning in an ocean and he had saved her. Only he had not saved her or protected her. He had sent her away from him. Alone.
“I am so sorry and ask your forgiveness.”
She did not respond, but tears fell from her eyes, wetting his shirt and making his heart break all the more.
“I am sorry,” he said again, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Oh, Ezra, I am the one at fault. I took the path to Katherine’s house and put myself in danger. When the man came—”
“Larry? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “A kitten saved me.” She smiled through her tears. “Along with help from Gott.”
“I should have been here with you.” He glanced down and saw scratches on her arms. “You are hurt.”
“I fell from the horse and twisted my ankle. It will heal.”
“Can you walk?”
“Not easily.”
“Let me help you up.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and guided her to her feet.
One of her legs buckled. Without effort, he lifted her into his arms. “We must hurry back to the house before Wagner returns.”
Holding Rosie in his arms made Ezra’s chest swell and his ears ring and his heart pound, not from fear, but from her closeness. All he wanted to do was continue to hold her. But danger was circling too close and he would not make the same mistake again.
He carried her to the door of the barn and looked outside to ensure they were alone, then he brushed his lips over her forehead, feeling like his heart would surely explode within his chest. All he had ever wanted was to hold Rosie, only not under these circumstances, not when a man who wanted to do her harm was prowling the mountain, coming closer and closer.
Ezra needed to find o
ut the truth about what was happening at the nursing home and with the patients’ drugs. Then he would make the trip to Willkommen and give the information to the sheriff or acting sheriff there. With the right evidence, they would not be able to ignore his suspicions or what he said. Ezra could not bear to have anything happen to Rosie, and right now, everyone was after her.
She was suspected of stealing drugs. For all he knew, she could also be suspected of murder, and although he had acted foolishly today, he would not let her stray from his sight until everything was out in the open and her name was cleared and the man in the SUV and the manager of the nursing home and everyone else involved in this corruption were under arrest.
FOURTEEN
Rosie did not want to put Joseph down that night. After dinner, he fell asleep in her arms. She cuddled him close as Ezra said good-night to the young children. Mary ran back to wrap her arms around Rosie’s neck, and then slyly, she kissed her cheek and kissed Joseph’s as well. The baby’s lips twitched into a smile as if he knew sweet Mary had kissed him.
“You have been a good friend to Joseph,” Rosie told the girl. “Thank you for playing with him.”
“I wish he was more than a friend,” Mary said as he patted his head and smiled at the sleeping child.
“More than a friend?” Rosie asked, not understanding.
The girl shrugged. “Mamm and Datt have gone to heaven so there will be no more children in our family. I do not want to be the youngest. I want a brother or sister.” She looked at Rosie with big eyes. “Could Joseph be my brother?”
Rosie glanced up to see Ezra standing in the kitchen. He had, no doubt, overheard the girl’s comment, but the look on his face was hard to read. Was he angry that Mary had mentioned their parents’ deaths, or was he upset that she wanted Joseph to be part of the family?
Rosie lowered her gaze, suddenly unsure of her place here. After Ezra had found her in the barn, she had never wanted to leave his arms. Undoubtedly she was dazed from everything that had happened, but she thought she had felt Ezra’s lips brush against her forehead. Wishful thinking, probably, like a young schoolgirl who flirted with boys. Not that Rosie had done anything like that. She had focused on her studies, wanting to make her datt proud of her—something she never succeeded in doing.
Ezra had wrapped her ankle, his touch gentle, his concern sincere, which only enhanced her feelings for him. Thankfully, Duchess had returned to the barn no worse for her escapade. Rosie kept reflecting on all that had happened. Without doubt, something special had passed between them today in the barn, but now, after hearing Mary’s innocent comment, Ezra seemed to stiffen and be aloof again.
She pulled Joseph closer and touched Mary’s cheek with her free hand. “It is getting late. You rise early in the morning, Mary, and need your sleep. You had best go to bed.”
“I will see you and Joseph tomorrow?” It was a question, as if the child was afraid they would leave, which they would do soon. But Rosie could not think of leaving sweet Mary and David, who was always so logical and tried to be grown up. Belinda, at fourteen, was blossoming into a lovely young woman ready to take on more responsibility within the family, especially if Susan had eyes on a young man in town, which is what she had surmised from some of the comments the children had made in passing.
Rosie rubbed her hand across Mary’s shoulder. “Joseph will see you at breakfast.” Seemingly reassured, Mary nodded and followed David upstairs.
Susan was mending a torn shirt of Aaron’s, while he worked on a small propane motor that needed fixing. A knock sounded at the door. Rosie’s heart raced. Ezra’s face revealed the concern he felt.
Although she had not heard a car, Rosie rose and searched for a place to hide. Ezra pointed her to an alcove off the kitchen. The small area was covered by a curtain.
“Wait in there until I see who is at the door.”
“Do you think—” The words would not form.
He shook his head. “I did not hear a car.”
Still—
Ezra was gone, walking back through the main room toward the door. Another rap sounded.
“Who is it?” Ezra’s voice was sharp and demanding.
Rosie scurried into the hiding spot, bit her lip and turned her eyes to the ceiling, trying to hear something—anything—that would give her a clue as to who had come pounding at the door.
The sound of the door opening and heavy footsteps coming to where she hid made her heart lurch.
She held her breath.
The curtain pulled back and Ezra peered in, smiling. “You can come out.” His voice was low, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“There is someone here?” she asked.
He nodded. “John Keim, from town. He is the blacksmith’s son. He came to ask if Susan could accompany him to youth singing this weekend. The group will also do some caroling.”
Rosie smiled. Her heart soared with joy for Susan, whose cheeks turned pink and eyes took on a softness whenever John’s name was mentioned. “How does her big brother feel about someone courting his younger sister?”
“I feel like a father who does not know if he wants her daughter to grow up or stay young.”
They laughed together. She glanced down at Joseph, feeling stronger. “I must put him to bed, plus it would be better if John did not see me.”
“He and Susan are taking a short walk. I told them they can talk on the front porch.”
“They would probably prefer the front room, although...” She smiled. “They would be alone on the porch and could huddle together to keep warm.”
He laughed again, causing Joseph to startle.
“Put Joseph to bed and then come downstairs,” Ezra suggested. “We can have a second cup of coffee. I do not think John will stay long.”
“That sounds gut.”
Leaving Ezra in the kitchen waiting for her and carrying her baby upstairs felt so natural and so normal—exactly what Rosie wanted for her life. After she covered Joseph with another blanket, she went to the window and looked down at the young couple walking in the moonlight, their heads close together, their hands entwined.
Rosie thought of what she had done and wondered how any good Amish man would be interested in a woman who had given herself to the wrong man and in the wrong way. Ezra deserved better. He deserved an Amish woman who would be a support and stand at his side, a helpmate through life of whom he could be proud.
She turned to go downstairs, heavyhearted, knowing she was not that woman.
* * *
Maybe it was seeing John at the door, acting nervous and embarrassed as he asked to take Susan to the singing that softened Ezra’s heart. Or perhaps it was his sister’s look of concern, as if she thought Ezra would not agree to let her go, that made him review the last sixteen months since their parents had died. He had been too hard on all of them in the beginning. He had been even harder on himself.
Thankfully, he was beginning to realize that Susan needed to be free to find her way in life. She was a beautiful woman, strong in her faith and committed to the Amish way. She would not wander off, seeking the world, as her brother had done.
And Rosie. His heart ached. All Rosie had wanted was to be loved. Anger swelled within him toward her father, who had not provided the positive role model she had needed. If he had been a better father, Rosie would have been content with her life and would have found love the normal Amish way.
Ezra would have continued to watch from a distance as a good Amish man courted her and the banns of marriage were read and the ceremony performed on a Tuesday or Thursday after fall harvest.
Perhaps things happened for a reason, even difficult things that caused pain. The journey to this moment for both of them had been filled with twists and turns that neither of them would have expected, yet they were together now, and if he could judge by what had happened in the barn and the feelings tha
t had passed between them, something good was drawing them together.
Light footfalls on the stairs signaled Rosie was returning to the first floor. He stood, wanting to welcome her, if not into his arms, at least into the kitchen, where they would share coffee and spend time alone together.
He had not expected to be so overwhelmed with her beauty as she came into view. She had lost her kapp on the path, and her hair fell softly over her shoulders, encircling her pretty face and big blue eyes, which stared at him full of questions. Did he notice a hint of longing in her gaze, as if she was feeling the churn of confusion just as he was?
He took her hand and drew her next to him. She looked up expectantly.
The guilt lifted from his shoulders. He forgot children were sleeping upstairs, and his sister was saying goodbye to John outside. All he could think about was Rosie and the way she had felt earlier in his arms. Her soft skin, her sweet smell, the way his body responded to her nearness.
He stepped closer and put his hand around her slender waist. The warmth of her touched a place of pain that he had carried too long. He saw her face. Her lips lifted up to his and the world stopped. Time stood still and she was the only thing his eyes could see or ever wanted to see as he lowered his lips and—
“Ezra?” Susan’s voice called as she shut the front door behind her and ran to the kitchen. “Did you tell John to ask me to the singing?”
She stopped short when she entered the kitchen. Rosie had a look of shock on her face and he felt equally as surprised. Susan appeared confused as she glanced at both of them.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, everything is fine,” Rosie soothed, stepping farther away from him. “I was just saying good-night.”
All too abruptly, she turned and fled up the stairs, leaving him with a jumble of emotions and a yearning so strong it was painful. He had almost kissed her. Their lips had almost touched before Susan, his sweet unsuspecting sister, had interrupted their moment together.