The Prodigal Son Returns

by Jan Drexler

  “Ja, I’m coming home.” How much information would get him the entrance into this community that he needed without divulging too much? “When I left, I was young and I thought I could always come back, but time got away from me....” Bram sighed and stared across the road at the rich brown corduroy of soil. A flock of blackbirds scattered through the field, picking at exposed seed.

  What would his life be like if he had never left? What did he have now, other than lost time and poor choices?

  “You left before you joined the church?”

  “Ja, I was in my Rumspringa.” A Rumspringa that had never ended. Once he’d left home, Bram had never intended to return.

  “What were you looking for out there?”

  He glanced back at the older man’s expectant face. From what his brother-in-law, Matthew, had said, John was one of the leaders in this district. Bram needed his support if he would ever be accepted into the community, but it wouldn’t be easy. The Amish kept tight fences.

  “I’m not sure now. Maybe excitement, freedom. I never found it, though.” He cast his glance to the side, away from John, as if he was repentant and ashamed. No, he didn’t need to do much acting to slip into this role. “I’m ready to come home.”

  Bram steadied his expression and looked back at the older man’s face. He had said it the right way—John Stoltzfus believed him—but Bram didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to come home. He wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for Killer Kavanaugh and the contract the gangster had put out on him.

  “The Ordnung can be hard to live up to.” Bram heard a warning note in John’s voice.

  “Not as hard as the way I’ve been living.” The memory of Chicago’s dirty streets clashed against the reality of the fresh spring air outside the big barn door. Yeah, life in Chicago had been dangerous, exciting, risky—and always hard. At least with the Ordnung, a man knew where he stood.

  “What does your brother think?”

  Samuel. Their father’s living legacy. His brief stop at the family farm near Shipshewana earlier in the week had let him know what Samuel thought. Where Dat had been cruel, Samuel was petty, but that had been the only difference. From the belligerent set of his chin to his bleary eyes, Samuel was Dat all over again.

  “Ja, well, Samuel doesn’t believe I’m back to stay.”

  “You can understand that. You left a long time ago, and much has happened since then.”

  Twelve years. Yes, a lot had happened, both here and in Chicago. Bram’s stomach clenched. He had to make this work....

  He forced his voice to remain quiet, in control. “I hope that with time he’ll see I mean what I say.” But he wouldn’t give Samuel the chance. He could go the rest of his life without seeing his brother again.

  “With time,” John agreed with a nod. He turned to look back into the shaded interior of the barn, where the horse was tied to a post, the subject closed for now. Bram moved his shoulders against the strain that had crept in without his knowing.

  “Partner here should be a good horse for you. He’s a little spirited, but he drives well. My daughter Ellie usually chooses him if she’s going out, and she won’t put up with a horse that won’t mind her. She won’t take any chances with the children in the buggy.”

  “Is she the daughter who just went into the Dawdi Haus?”

  “Ja. She and the children have been living there since her husband died.”

  So the young woman was a widow? Bram tucked that information away as John lifted each of the gelding’s hooves for his inspection. The horse twitched his ears but stood quietly during the process. Bram held out a carrot nub John gave him, and the horse took it, eyeing the stranger as he munched the treat.

  “I haven’t dealt with horses much the last few years, but he seems to take to me.”

  “He’s a good horse.”

  “Your price sounds fair.” Bram pulled his money clip out of his pocket and peeled off a few bills. “Is it all right if I pick him up on Tuesday? I ordered a buggy from Levi Miller’s, and it should be ready to pick up that afternoon.”

  “Ja, for sure.” John took the money and shook Bram’s hand. “I’ll be looking for you on Tuesday.”

  * * *

  Cool air washed over Ellie as she and the children went into the shaded kitchen. She shifted Danny on her hip, ready to put the heavy load down.

  “Can we play with Noah’s Ark?” Susan’s favorite toy was a new discovery for Danny.

  “Ja, that will be good. Why don’t you set it up in the front room while I change Danny’s diaper?”

  Ellie took the baby into the bedroom Danny and Susan shared. She used the second bedroom, while Johnny slept on the sofa in the front room. The little house had seemed like such a refuge when they had moved in, but they were quickly outgrowing it. Dat had offered to add on another bedroom, but Ellie was reluctant to take that step. It seemed so permanent.

  She would be moving back to Daniel’s farm as soon as she was able to support herself and the children. The farm belonged to her now. It was the children’s legacy from their father and his dreams for their future. When she was ready to make the move, then she would tell Mam and Dat. No use crossing that bridge yet.

  Once clean and dry, Danny was anxious to get into the front room to play with Susan. Ellie put him down on the floor while she took care of the diaper and watched him make his way into the next room, doing his own one-foot-one-knee scooting crawl.

  “Ne, Danny!” Hearing Susan’s cry, Ellie stepped through the doorway to see Danny plowing his way through his sister’s carefully set up animal pairs, making a beeline for the cows.

  “Just set them up again, Susan. You know he’s not doing it on purpose.”

  Ellie picked the marauder up and set him down on his bottom next to the pair of black-and-white cows. He took one in each hand and stuck a cow head into his mouth. He looked up at Ellie with contented adoration on his face, drool dripping down his chin. She couldn’t help caressing his soft hair.

  “I think we’ll have to ask Dawdi Hezekiah to make another set of cows.”

  “Ne, Memmi, Danny can play with those. I still have the brown ones.”

  Ellie gave Susan a smile. The little girl forgave quickly when it came to Danny. Between the two of them, he was nearly spoiled.

  Standing up again sent a twinge through Ellie’s back, reminding her of how much work she had done already that morning. She leaned back a bit to ease the strain and caught a glimpse of the strawberry field through the window. She stepped closer to the glass, drinking in the sight of the rows of green leaves nestled in the soil.

  Rows of green promising the fulfillment of Daniel’s dreams for their children—a home, a future. Giving them what he wanted was the least she could do. She owed him that much.

  Ellie rubbed her arms, brushing away the sudden chill that brought goose bumps, and stepped away from the window. Susan chattered to Danny as she walked the wooden animals up the ramp and through the door of the ark. How would she know when she had given the children enough to make up for what she had done?

  Brushing the thought aside, she crossed the room to the kitchen. “Susan, I’m going to bring the clothes in. Call me if you or Danny need anything, ja?”

  “Ja, Memmi. I will.”

  Picking up the empty basket from the back porch, Ellie started with Johnny’s shirts, dropping the clothespins into the basket as she folded each shirt. When she reached for Susan’s blue dress, the stranger stepped up next to her and took the dress from the line, handing it to her as he dropped the pins with the others.

  “I thought I’d check on your little girl before I left.”

  Ellie froze with the dress in her hands. What was he doing? Asking for Dat was one thing, but to speak to her in this way?

  “She...she’s fine. She’s just fine.” Elli
e concentrated on folding the dress and took Johnny’s trousers from the Englischer as he dropped more clothespins into the basket. The sleeve of his jacket was gray, with threads of yellow that matched his necktie and the handkerchief in his breast pocket. No one dressed that fancy, not even the Englischers in town. Who was he?

  “I found your Dat in the barn, just like you said. The horse will be perfect for me. John said you’ve driven him quite a bit.”

  “Ja, I take him when I need to run errands or go visiting.” Why didn’t he just go? What if Mam saw an Englischer talking with her?

  “My name is Bram. Bram Lapp. And you’re Ellie, right?”

  Ellie glanced at his face. Ja, that grin was there, making a dimple show on his cheek. Ach, what a mess! How could she get him to leave and still be polite?

  “Ja, that’s right.” Her cheeks were flaming hot under his gaze.

  “I’m staying with Matthew and Annie Beachey until I find a farm to buy. Annie’s my sister.”

  Ellie stared at him. “Your sister? But you’re...” How could he be Annie’s brother? She wasn’t Englisch.

  His grin widened. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?” He turned away and stepped to the next line to start on the many diapers.

  Ellie couldn’t pull her eyes away from him, her cheeks burning. How forward could one man be? He ignored her as he pulled the pins off the line and bunched the diapers in his hand. When the line was empty, he dropped the diapers into the basket on top of the clothes.

  “I’m glad your little girl is all right.” He picked up the basket and started toward the house. He wouldn’t just walk inside, would he?

  “I can take that.” Ellie hurried after him and reached for the basket. He let her grasp the sides as he paused at the porch steps, but he held on until she looked up at him.

  “Will I see you again? I’ll be around, you know.” His dimple deepened, and she pulled the basket out of his hands. Didn’t he understand how rude and forward he was being?

  “Denki for carrying the basket, but ne, I don’t think you’ll be seeing me again.”

  She left him and went into the house, closing the solid wood door behind her, shutting him out. Leaning her back against the door, Ellie listened. Would he be so bold as to follow her onto the porch?

  Setting the basket on the floor, she stepped to the sink and looked out the window. There he was, walking past the barn toward the road, his hat tilted on the back of his head and his hands in his pockets.

  Annie Beachey’s brother? Ellie squinted her eyes. Ja, perhaps if he wore Plain clothes and a straw hat instead of the gray felt one with the yellow band...

  Ne. She shook her head and turned to pull a loaf out of the bread box. He was just too Englisch. For sure, the clothes made him Englisch on the outside, but no Amishman would be so bold with a woman! He was Englisch through and through.

  Ellie looked up from her task of slicing the bread. She could still see him on the road. He had taken off his jacket and slung it over one shoulder, and as she watched, he did a little skip and kicked at a rock on the road, sending it bouncing along in front of him. He ran up to it and kicked it again, sending it into the ditch. Laughter bubbled up in her throat, and she leaned toward the window to keep him in view as he hunted for the rock in the tall grass at the side of the road. And then he was gone.

  Straightening the bread on the cutting board, she cut two more slices for Susan and Danny before she realized she was still smiling. Ach, what was it about this Englischer? What if he had seen her laughing at him?

  She shook her head, putting a frown on her face. Ne, that wouldn’t do at all. Englischers and Amish just didn’t mix, especially strange, fancy men. No good Amish woman would let him near her and her family.

  Chapter Two

  Bram kept to the shady south side of the gravel road, letting his pace settle into a steady walk that would eat up the four miles to Matthew’s place. It was pure luck his brother-in-law knew about that horse for sale. A week of walking was enough for him. Selling his Studebaker had been a hard sacrifice to make, but it had been a gift from Kavanaugh.

  Too risky to keep.

  Everything was risky since that night on Chicago’s West Side when Elwood Peters had told him his cover was blown.

  Bram loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar to give himself some air. It had been just this hot that April night, but Bram had gone cold with Peters’s terse “You’ve been made.”

  How had Kavanaugh known he was the source for the feds? He had been with the gangster for nearly all of the twelve years he had been in Chicago, from the time he had hit the streets with hayseed still stuck in his hair. Kavanaugh had taken him in, taught him some street smarts, shown him the ropes during Prohibition. Man, what a green kid he had been back then—but Kavanaugh liked him, said he had promise. Sure, some of the other guys had been jealous of him, but nobody messed with one of Kavanaugh’s boys.

  But it was Elwood Peters who had made a man of him. The Prohibition agent had seen his potential and recruited him to be an informant.

  Bram shook his head. No, Peters had done more than just recruit him. He had saved his life. Before Peters came along, Bram had been on the same track as the rest of Kavanaugh’s boys—just waiting for his chance to take the boss down. Even though he had seen what happened to the guy who made his move and failed, Bram didn’t care. What did he have to live for, anyway?

  Then he had run into Peters. Over the past ten years, Peters’s job had changed from Prohibition agent, to Treasury agent, to the Federal Bureau, and he had taken Bram with him as his eyes on the street. It had worked out well for both of them.

  Bram had shared everything with the older man—everything except his past and his real name. Peters knew him as Dutch, the name Kavanaugh had dubbed him with the first time they met. Bram had added a last name—Sutter—and from then on, Bram Lapp had disappeared into the hazy mist of fading years.

  Until now.

  Peters was sure Kavanaugh had moved his operation to northern Indiana after Bram’s information had led to the breakup of his gang in Chicago, but he needed to know where the boss had gone. Bram was supposed to go with Kavanaugh when he left town, but once his cover was blown, he had to change his plans. He’d be dead if Kavanaugh found him, but he couldn’t let the gangster escape, either. He’d never be safe until Kavanaugh was out of the way.

  Killer Kavanaugh never gave up until he had his revenge.

  And then Bram had come up with this new, harebrained idea. It seemed like such a good idea in Chicago—go undercover as himself, Bram Lapp, the green Amish kid from Indiana.

  But he wasn’t green anymore. He had seen and done things the Amish kid he had been couldn’t imagine. He had the skills to keep himself alive on the Chicago streets, but would those same skills be useful to him here as he hunted for Kavanaugh’s new center of operations? They had to be.

  Bram whooshed out a breath. Meanwhile, here he was slipping away into the life he had left twelve years ago. It wasn’t what he had expected. Not at all. The deeper he went into this cover, the more he was losing the edge he needed to keep him alive. But without the cover, without immersing himself into this community, it would be impossible to fade into the background the way he needed to.

  And there was only one way to fade into this background: he needed to look and act the same as every other Amishman around. Any difference would make him stick out like a sore thumb.

  The list. He ticked off the items in his mind as he walked. He had bought the buggy and horse. Next would be a place to farm, equipment and workhorses, and church every other Sunday. And clothes. This drape suit that helped him blend in on Chicago’s West Side stuck out too much around here. Besides, his jacket was ruined after sliding in the dirt with that little Amish girl.

  That little girl was something el
se. So much like his younger sisters at that age...

  Bram took off his felt hat and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get the air to his scalp. Why did remembering his sisters make him think of a wife and a family?

  The curve of Ellie Miller’s neck eased into his thoughts. He closed his eyes to capture the moment she’d faced him on her back porch. One strand of soft brown hair had escaped from under her kapp and fallen softly along the side of her face. She’d have to reach up and tuck it behind her ear. What would it feel like if he did it for her? He saw the smile she would give him as he caressed her cheek....

  Bram stopped the direction of his thoughts with a firm shake of his head. He knew a woman like that wouldn’t even look at him. Not Bram Lapp. Not with his past. And not with the job he had to do. No, a woman like that wasn’t for him. He’d rather take his chances alone.

  Wheels crunching through the gravel on the road behind him made Bram sidestep into the cover of some overhanging branches. Buggy wheels and horse’s hooves, not a car. He rolled his shoulders as he waited for the buggy to overtake him. He had to stop being so jumpy. No one knew he was here. Even Peters only had a vague idea of the direction he had gone.

  “Bram!”

  Bram waved as the buggy caught up to him, and his brother-in-law pulled the horse to a halt.

  “You’ll be wanting a ride.” Matthew was a man to get to his point quickly.

  “Ja, denki.”

  The back of the buggy held boxes of supplies, and a frantic peeping rose from one as the buggy lurched forward.

  “You bought some chicks?”

  “Ja. I thought the Yoders might have some to trade for a couple bales of hay.” Matthew looked at Bram with a grin. “Annie loves getting new chicks.”

  Bram let this idea settle in his mind. His sister hadn’t asked for chicks, as far as he knew. Matthew had gotten them because he thought Annie might like them. Was that how a real husband acted?

  “Did you find the Stoltzfus farm?” Matthew asked.