by Alison Stone
“What?” The word came out as barely a whisper.
“I’ve seen these things escalate.” First the child gets in trouble in school, then he starts hanging out with the wrong crowd, he’s arrested for shoplifting, then shot in the head during a gang initiation gone bad. But that was his dark secret. His personal failure.
Not hers.
Hannah blinked at him in shock. A knot formed between his shoulder blades. Regrets haunted him. He had tried to save a young city kid, but drugs and gangs were too prevalent to spare a boy living in poverty. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He had failed to keep that promise before.
Never again.
Hannah ran a hand across the back of her neck. “I’m not in any real danger, am I? The tire slashing was a prank, right?” She looked up at him, trust in her bright brown eyes.
“I’m not a fan of coincidences, remember?”
She sighed heavily. “Why would someone do this to me? If John wants me to leave, then he needs to come home, prove his innocence and raise his children.” Her soft voice hardened with anger. “Besides John, I don’t have enemies.” She locked gazes with him. “The Amish don’t believe in violence. No one from this community would try to hurt me regardless of how they feel about me personally.” The hesitancy in her voice told him she wasn’t buying it, either.
“John Lapp is our primary focus.”
“Then he needs to show his face. Be a man.” Her lower lip shook with rage.
“These are not the actions of a rational person.” It was speculation, but the best idea he had right now.
Hannah threaded her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes briefly. “Maybe this fire was caused by my own carelessness.” Her shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry I woke you up early. The fire had me freaked out. I was worried it would flare up again.” Hannah brushed the palms of her hands together as if she had put this entire situation behind her. “It appears the fire department has taken care of that.” The firefighters wrapped up their hose and tucked it away.
One of the men wandered their way. “You’re good, ma’am. Just be careful with the kerosene lamps.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The firefighter waved to Spencer. “Take it easy, Sheriff.” The firefighter climbed onto the truck. The fire engine eased out of the driveway and onto the main road.
When the fire engine was out of sight, Spencer turned to Hannah. “We don’t know the fire was an accident.” They locked gazes for a long moment. “You need to be careful.”
“I’m out here alone with the girls. My mother lives on the property, but her health keeps her inside most of the time. What am I supposed to do?”
“I’ll make sure you’re protected.”
She dragged the heel of her hand across her forehead. “You can’t guard me out here. You have a job.”
“I’ll have extra patrols come by. I won’t let anything happen to you.” But he had been having extra patrols and still this happened.
“Maybe it is time for me to leave.”
Spencer brushed his knuckles down the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “You’ve had a stressful week, and I know you think you’re in over your head. Don’t make any rash decisions until you have a chance to consider all your options.” He wanted her to be safe, but for selfish reasons he didn’t want her to leave Apple Creek. A twinge of guilt pinged him.
“I better check on the girls.” Hannah pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down around her hands. “Can I make you breakfast?”
He held up his hand, intending to refuse when Hannah added a little too breezily, “It’s the least I can do for dragging you all the way out here before sunrise.”
Spencer followed her to the house. When she opened the door, they found Emma sitting in a chair hugging her plain, faceless fabric doll.
Hannah glanced at him over her shoulder. The smile slipped from her face. “Have you been up long, sweetie?”
Emma bowed her head and buried her face into the doll and squeezed its middle tight.
“The fire truck must have been scary. I promise everything is okay now.” Hannah crouched in front of the little girl and smiled. “Where’s your sister?”
“In bed.” Emma sniffled. “I thought you were gone. Like Mem.” Emma hid her feet under her nightgown and pulled her knees to her chest. “And I saw that big truck like when Mem...”
Pink blossomed on Hannah’s face, and she looked as if she was fighting back tears. “Oh, no, sweetie. I went outside to do chores. Careless Aunt Hannah knocked over a lamp. That’s why the firemen were here. I wouldn’t leave you. Ever.”
Emma looked up, hesitantly at first, then a shy smile crossed her face. She scooted to the edge of the chair and slipped her hand into Hannah’s.
Spencer cleared his throat, feeling like a true outsider. “I should head out.”
Hannah kissed Emma on the cheek and turned to Spencer. “I believe I owe you breakfast.”
FIVE
After breakfast, Hannah and Spencer lingered over coffee while the girls returned to their dolls. Hannah wondered if her sister would have minded if she purchased the girls real dolls with blinking eyes and fancy clothes, then decided the faceless, plain ones were more suitable. For now.
Hannah set her mug down. “So, Sheriff, you know all about me, and I know nothing about you. What brings you to the sleepy town of Apple Creek?”
“The job. I got tired of being a police officer in the city. Apple Creek had an opening when the last sheriff resigned after his son was indirectly tied to the disappearance of a five-year-old Amish girl.”
Hannah shuddered. “Poor sweet Mary Miller. I remember when she went missing. What a tragedy.” Amish parents kept a closer eye on their children for a long time after Mary went missing while shopping at the general store with her older brother. She lowered her gaze and said a quiet prayer for the girl’s soul.
“Anytime a child is hurt or...” A faraway look flitted across his eyes. “It’s the hardest part of this job.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“Anyway...” Spencer took a deep breath, snapping out of it. “I thought a job change would be good.”
Hannah narrowed her gaze. “Seems like it would be a lot more exciting to work in the city rather than coming to the aid of an Amish woman in the middle of farm country.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever helped an Amish woman in Buffalo.”
“Probably not.” She laughed. Something about this man lightened her heart.
“Where in Buffalo did you live?” He rarely broke eye contact when he spoke, making her self-conscious.
“I have a small apartment in the university district. I’m living there month-to-month with two roommates, both college students.”
Spencer seemed to consider this a moment. A smile pulled on the corners of his lips. “I can’t see you hanging out at college parties.”
Hannah waved her hand. “I’m a little too old to be hanging out with the college crowd. My roommates are grad students. Not the partying type. But if you listen to them, you’d think I was the most boring person in the world.”
The creases around his eyes deepened when he laughed. “I’m sure you’re not that boring.”
Hannah averted her gaze, and her cheeks grew warm. “I grew up in a very conservative lifestyle. I wasn’t prepared for the things that go on in the English world.” She lifted her gaze and met his.
“You just haven’t met the right people yet.” His smooth voice rolled over her, and she couldn’t help wonder what he meant.
His intense regard unnerved her, so she reached across the table and nudged his arm in hopes of lightening the mood. “Okay, funny man. I wasn’t going to pry, but tell me why you’d leave Buffalo for a town whose nearest Wegman’s grocery store is a forty-five-minute drive
.”
Spencer leaned toward her, resting his elbows on the table. “There’s more to life than the Cadillac of all grocery stores.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know.” She laughed, then grew sober. “I’m really curious about you. Why did you leave Buffalo?”
Spencer’s chest rose and fell on a heavy sigh. “A police officer sees a lot working in the city.” The raw honesty on his face exposed a chink in his armor. Their brief connection made her feel equally exposed.
She pushed back the chair and stood, giving him her best I’ll-let-you-off-the-hook-for-now expression. “I better red up the room, as my kinfolk would say, and turn back into Amish aunt.” She plucked at her sweatshirt. “Sometimes I feel like spinning around like Wonder Woman to change back and forth.” She giggled. “Oh man, I’m getting punchy.”
Spencer lightly touched her wrist as she passed. She paused and glanced at his tan hand against her pale skin. A feeling of being protected, safe, coiled around her heart.
“Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing or being something you’re not.”
Hannah stared at him for a long moment. “I won’t.” The words sounded unconvincing even in her own ears.
Hannah cleared away the dishes and moved to the sink. She enjoyed the companionable silence as she washed, and Spencer dried. Never in a million years would her father have done what he called women’s work. Almost done, Hannah put the frying pan under the faucet and a powerful gush sent water bouncing off the pan and into their faces.
Scrunching up her nose, Hannah turned to Spencer. The front of his brown hair was soaked, and big drips ran down his face. She grabbed the dish towel from him and dabbed at his cheeks. Laughing until her vision blurred, she apologized profusely.
After a moment, he pulled her hand away from his face. Their eyes locked, and tension stretched between them.
Spencer was the first to break the silence. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just a little water.”
The sound of someone clearing his throat made Hannah jump. Pinpricks of unease swept across her skin. She dropped her hands to her sides and pivoted. Lester Lapp stood in the doorway, disapproval etched on his features. His dark eyes shadowed by the brim of his straw hat.
Hannah quickly stepped away from Spencer as if she had been doing something wrong. Then she glanced down at her jeans and sweatshirt. She crossed her arms over her middle, as if she could hide her wardrobe. She felt equal parts defiant and embarrassed.
“I was out in the barn this morning. I thought it was more practical to wear these clothes than a dress.” The words poured from her mouth. She felt like she was thirteen again, defending herself to her father.
“It wonders me if it would have been simpler to go out in your undergarments to avoid soiling your English clothes.”
Hannah gritted her teeth. Spencer moved next to her, his shoulders squared as if to defend her. She discreetly let the back of her hand brush his thigh, a silent caution.
Lester’s eyes went to her hand and an emotion—disgust, maybe?—registered on his face. The gooey-sweet voice of a woman unaccustomed to talking to children reached Hannah’s ears. Fannie Mae.
Lester gave her a smarmy smile. “It’s time Fannie Mae spent more time with the children. Gut, yah.”
“You haven’t given me a chance to make a decision.” Hannah stepped forward. “I am here for the girls.”
Spencer rested his hand on the small of her back, a reassuring gesture.
Lester’s brow creased. “Yah, well, you can’t even wear appropriate clothing. Fannie Mae will raise the girls as Ruth and John would have done until my brother comes home.”
The simple statement sent sharp pains jabbing into Hannah’s heart. She cut a sideways glance to Spencer, whose expression was hard to read.
The strong-willed part of her wanted to tell Lester to take a flying leap. To tell him in no uncertain terms that she was going to care for her sister’s children. The practical side of her—the wounded, grieving side of her—feared he was right. She had no business raising her sister’s children. She knew nothing about being a mother. Nothing about managing a farm on her own.
And worst of all, she questioned the Amish way.
Ruthie had reached out to Hannah in the final months of her life. Yet Hannah had failed to realize the seriousness of her sister’s concerns. Had Ruthie feared for her life and Hannah hadn’t been able to read between the lines? A throbbing started behind her eyes. She had let her sister down.
Hannah couldn’t fail her nieces.
“The hurrieder we take Sarah and Emma into our home, the hurrieder they’ll adjust. A delay is only making it more difficult. More confusing.”
Hannah fisted her hands by her sides. She felt Spencer’s gentle fingers brush against the back of her hand. “Can we talk?” he asked.
She nodded.
Spencer led her outside, down the steps and across the front lawn. “You don’t have to decide right this minute.”
“Maybe Lester’s right. Maybe the sooner I leave, the less painful it will be for the girls.” This had been the back-and-forth argument weighing in her mind for days.
Stay. Go. Stay. Go. Go. Go.
She rubbed her throbbing temple.
Spencer squared off with Hannah and angled his head to study her eyes. “Those girls love you. It doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing proposition. Considering everything that’s been going on, maybe you and the girls should get away from here for a little while. Don’t feel you have to hand your nieces over to Lester and Fannie Mae.”
Hannah stared at him, disbelief making her breakfast roil in her stomach. “I can’t leave with the girls. My sister wouldn’t want that. And if I move back to Buffalo alone, Lester won’t allow me to visit my nieces. They’re afraid I’ll be a bad influence.” She shook her head. “If I decide to allow Lester and Fannie Mae to raise Sarah and Emma, I’m as good as saying goodbye. Forever.”
She turned to face the road as a pickup truck zoomed by. “I’ll never see them again.”
“Would they really be that cruel?”
“They don’t think of it as cruel. They’re trying to preserve the Amish way. They interact with the outside world when necessary, but weekend visits with the black-sheep aunt would not be deemed necessary.” She drew in a deep breath and let it go. Indecision crowded in on her. “Maybe life with Lester and Fannie Mae would be for the best.”
“You don’t have to give Lester an answer now. Think about it.” Something in Spencer’s tone gave her pause. Her heart kicked up a notch. Would Spencer be disappointed if she left?
Hannah strolled toward the house.
“Wait,” Spencer called.
Hannah turned back slowly.
“Mrs. Greene, my landlady, has an empty apartment in the building where I live. You could take the girls there. You’d be safer.”
She narrowed her gaze at him, letting his words sink in. Her lips moved, but no words formed. Could she rip the girls away from everything they’ve ever known? She shook her head and continued toward the house. She reached the top step of the porch and heard Fannie Mae’s stern voice pierce the county quiet. “When you come to my house, we’ll get rid of these scruffy dolls, now once. You don’t need silly toys.”
Hannah heard a smacking sound. “Stop fussing with your dress,” Fannie Mae scolded.
Hannah stormed into the house, dizzy with adrenaline. She was ready to let Fannie Mae have it when the sight of the two girls clutching hands, standing in the center of the room, destroyed her. The sadness and fear on their faces spoke volumes.
Hannah had felt that fear while on the receiving end of one of her father’s tirades. No one had come to her rescue.
Her heartbeat pulsing in her temples, Hannah glared at Fannie Mae then Lester. Lester stepped toward the
girls and clutched Sarah’s shoulder. “Stop this nonsense. It was just a small tap on your wrist. It couldn’t have hurt that much. We’re going to take you to your new home, now once.”
Sarah pulled away from him and clutched her little sister’s hand. “Aenti Hannah, don’t leave.”
The last shred of resistance around Hannah’s heart shattered. She knelt in front of the girls and drew them into a hug. Not accustomed to physical displays of affection, they stiffened before melting into her embrace.
Hannah lifted her head. Lester and Fannie Mae seemed shell-shocked. “The girls are home.”
“Neh, you cannot stay and live like you are.” Lester’s nostrils flared as he gave her jeans and sweatshirt a once-over.
“You have no authority over me. I plan to stay here to raise the girls.”
“Don’t you mean until their dat comes home?” Lester tipped his hat, more out of habit, than a genuine goodbye. He stormed out of the house, his wife, her gown licking at her legs, followed behind in a tizzy.
Hannah’s entire body trembled. She sat in the sitting room rocker. She gestured to Emma and the doll in her hand. When Emma realized what her aunt wanted, she handed the doll over with a pinched expression on her face. “I’ll give it right back, sweetie.” Hannah traced the stitching on the plain dress. “Your mem made this doll.”
Emma looked down at her doll, a small smile tugging on her pink lips.
Hannah lifted her gaze to Spencer, who had come back into the house. A shudder worked its way down her spine. Was Spencer right? Was she not safe here with the girls?
The thick vein pulsing in Lester’s temple came to mind.
Her sister’s murder.
Her missing brother-in-law.
Would Lester have left so easily if Spencer hadn’t been here? If she and the girls had been alone?
Across the room, Hannah locked gazes with Spencer. She couldn’t put a single name to the emotions rolling off him. Uncertainty? Fear? Doubt? Or was she transferring to him all the emotions tangling her insides into a painful knot?