Hidden in Plain View

by Diane Burke

  “I’ll take his cookie and give it to him,” William volunteered.

  Sarah chuckled. Somehow she didn’t think it would reach his brother without at least a little nibble out of it, if she gave the cookie to the boy.

  “Where is Daniel?” she asked.

  William pointed his finger. “Over there, standing by Daed and the other men in the field.”

  For the first time, Sarah turned her attention their way. Samuel had already joined them. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the setting sun and squinted for a better look. She noted it wasn’t just Amish men standing in the field. There were two police cars parked where the rebuilding of the barn had begun, and some uniformed officers stood talking with the men. A large area of field was roped off with yellow tape.

  “I wonder what’s going on over there,” Sarah said aloud.

  “The policemen want to look at the words somebody wrote on the ground,” William mumbled through a mouthful of crushed cookie.

  “I don’t like going over there. It’s scary,” the little girl said.

  “It isn’t scary,” William corrected. “I told you, Mary, it’s just spilled paint.”

  “Messy red paint. I don’t like it. It looks like blood.”

  “Well, it isn’t blood. It’s paint. It’s messy ’cause Daed said the man did it in a hurry after he set the fire in the barn.”

  “It’s still scary. I’m gonna stay here with Sarah...and the cookies.”

  Her smile warmed Sarah’s heart, and she had to fight the urge to pull the child close and squeeze her tight.

  “Daed told us not to go over there, anyhow. He said it was adult business and we should stay away. So I’ll keep Sarah company, too...and the cookies.”

  Sarah reached inside the basket. “Okay. You win. I can’t resist your beautiful smiles. You can have another cookie.”

  After handing them another cookie each, she glanced over again at the men. “William, do you know what words the man wrote in red paint?”

  “Ya, but they didn’t make any sense.” He bit his cookie.

  “Why don’t you tell me? Maybe they’ll make sense to me.”

  “It was only four words. I don’t know why everyone is so upset about them.”

  “What did the words say?”

  He swallowed his last bite of cookie and then said, “‘Give her to me.’”

  ELEVEN

  Sarah gasped and then, not wanting to upset the children, she pretended to cough. “Well, danki. Go play now. Shoo. I have to get these goodies in the house while I still have some left.”

  She slid across the seat, but before she could attempt to climb out of the buggy, Sam had returned and was standing below her. He took the basket out of her hand and placed it on the ground. Instead of offering his hand, he clasped her waist and lifted her high, as if she were as light as a flower in the breeze. Heat seared her cheeks as the firm touch of his hands on her waist sent her pulse flying. The heat deepened when she stared into his eyes and saw he knew the effect he was having on her.

  “Danki,” she said when he placed her on the ground. Trying to hide her reaction to his nearness, she glanced over at the men still gathered by the field. “William told me about the words written in the field.”

  Sam picked up her basket, clasped her right arm with his hand and guided her toward the house. “This is why I became a police officer in the first place. The Amish people are not accustomed to the evil that exists in the world.”

  “And you are?”

  He stopped midstride and shot a look her way. “Yes, Sarah. I have met evil face-to-face many times. The Amish are my people. I chose to devote my life to protecting them because they are peaceful people who will not protect themselves.”

  “They depend on God for protection, Samuel. Certainly you do not think you are God?”

  The words sounded harsh even to her own ears, and instantly she wished she could recall them. She hadn’t meant to be unkind. She was just trying to understand what drove a man who loved God, his family and his people to leave them behind.

  Sam’s hand tightened on her arm, and his body bristled. The red flush on his throat was the only physical sign that she had hit a nerve, and it had angered him. “No, Sarah, I know I am not God.” He gestured toward the field. “But He seems to be a little busy someplace else right now, so I thought I’d give Him a hand.”

  She knew she couldn’t take back what she had said or soften its blow, so she continued walking beside him in silence.

  “There they are.” Rebecca’s voice carried on the air. “See, I told you they were right behind me.” Rebecca and Elizabeth peered from the doorway and beckoned them inside.

  Sam handed the basket to Elizabeth and spoke to Rebecca. “I’ll leave Sarah in your safe hands.”

  Even though his words were light, Sarah knew Samuel well enough by now to feel the anger emanating from him. He didn’t even glance in her direction as he marched off to rejoin the men.

  Sarah gazed at his back as he moved farther away, and wished she could rewind the past few minutes and eat her words. Since she couldn’t, she followed the other two women into the house and vowed to apologize to him later when they could find a moment or two alone.

  But the time never presented itself.

  The afternoon slipped into evening in a flurry of activity. Jacob and Rebecca drove the buggy home with Sarah in the second seat while Sam brought up the rear with the lumber wagon.

  The next few days fell into a similar pattern. The women cooked all morning, delivered the food to various farms in the afternoons, helped with cleanup and returned early evening just in time to finish their own chores, say their prayers, get some sleep and do it all over again.

  Their visit to the Yoder farm had the most impact on Sarah. With her left arm still in a sling, she wasn’t able to cradle and rock the Yoders’ new infant as the other women did. But she had managed to steal a private moment with the newborn.

  Sarah couldn’t resist tracing her finger across the silken softness of the baby’s cheek, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the strength of the fisted hold the child had on her finger. She counted the ten perfect little fingers and ten perfect little toes. She watched the tiny lips pucker in a sucking motion as the baby slept. She breathed in the clean, fresh baby-powder scent and, for the first time, longed for the day when she would be hovering over the cradle of her own child.

  Almost as if the child she carried could read her mind, Sarah felt a slight stirring, like butterfly wings fluttering in her stomach, and she knew this was her baby moving about, letting her know it wasn’t a story a doctor had made up, but that this child was very real and would soon be in her arms.

  The thought comforted her—and frightened her, as well. She didn’t know the first thing about giving birth or raising a child. And she would have to do it alone, without a husband to help and guide her.

  Raising a child would be the most important job she would ever have. She offered a silent prayer that God would be with her each step of the way so she could raise the child in the ways of the Lord—with love and patience, without fear or self-doubt.

  “Sarah?”

  She spun around at the sound of Sam’s voice.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stood a few feet from her and held his hat in his hand. He glanced at the baby in the cradle and then looked back at her. It was as if he could look into her mind, into her very soul, and he smiled. “Soon you will have a boppli of your own. That is exciting, ya?”

  His features scrunched up as he studied her, but after a moment, a slight smile teased his lips. “I know life has been hard for you lately, but we will find this man. This will be over soon, and you will be happy again. I promise.”

  “Only God can promise such things, Samue
l.” Before he could respond, she raised a hand to stop him. “I apologize for the harshness of my words a few days ago. I did not mean to insult you by implying you thought yourself like God. I do not think such a sinful thing, or think you are prideful.”

  She softened her voice. “I was just trying to understand why you made the choices you did. And if you ever regretted those choices.” She lowered her eyes.

  Sam tilted her chin and looked into her face. “I had my reasons for leaving, Sarah. Good reasons. And no...I do not regret the choice I made. I am no longer Amish, and I will never return to this way of life. My time here will end when my job is over.”

  Sarah’s heart clenched. She didn’t want to be reminded that he was only here for a short time. She didn’t want to imagine how empty her days would be without seeing him at work in the barn or sitting across from her at the dinner table. She didn’t want to think what it would be like not to sit beside him in the evenings and count the stars. Not to have him near so they could talk.

  So she wouldn’t think about it. For now she would pretend that he would always be here—and she’d deal with the pain later, when he left.

  “What is so important, Samuel, that you sneak up behind me and startle me to death?”

  He grinned. “Rebecca asked me to fetch you. She went to join Jacob in the buggy. They are ready to go home.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” She brushed past him in a huff, unable to hide her annoyance. It wasn’t his delay in telling her that Rebecca was waiting for her that bothered her. It was the fact that no matter how much she wanted to or how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget that soon Samuel would leave.

  * * *

  Sarah gazed out the window. The skies were gray, and the smell of rain was in the air.

  The sun did its best to break through the clouds but was losing the battle. It would be dusk soon, and the men would be coming home, looking for a hot dinner and a good night’s rest.

  She pressed her face against the windowpane. She should be able to see Samuel from here. He’d told her he wouldn’t go far. He needed to help Jacob mend some downed fencing before the worst of the impending storm hit, but the barn obstructed her view.

  Samuel had not said anything else about leaving since their discussion a couple of days ago. But the subject hung in the air between them. She knew he saw the sadness in her eyes when she looked at him, but she couldn’t help it. He had become a dear and close friend. Why would she be happy about his going?

  Sarah was pretty certain that Samuel wasn’t happy about going, either. She had seen a deep, pensive expression on his face more than once when he thought she wasn’t looking. She knew she wasn’t imagining it. Samuel liked her, too. They had become friends.

  And friends harbored a fondness for each other.

  Friends would miss friends if they parted.

  And sometimes...friendships deepened. Feelings grew. If Samuel started having deeper feelings, it might be hard for him to say goodbye. Right? She could only hope...and wait...and pray.

  She rubbed her hand against the glass, trying to erase the moisture her warm breath had caused on the cold pane. Still no sight of him. She had to stop acting like a mooning teenager and get downstairs and help Rebecca with dinner.

  She noticed that she had more fluid movements these days. She wasn’t due to see the doctor again for a couple of days, but she was optimistic about the visit. She knew her body was healing. She didn’t tire as easily. Her pain had lessened, and she was looking forward to getting the sling off her left arm and the bandages off her head. All she wanted to do was soak in a hot bath and shampoo her hair. Who would have thought that the idea of such a small thing promised so much pleasure?

  “I was just going to call you.” Rebecca, her face flushed from standing over the hot stove, waved her over. “I need to go out to the barn. I forgot to bring in the pickled beets and corn. The bread is rising nicely but needs to be watched. The stew needs to be stirred. Will you please watch the meal? I will be right in.”

  Sarah gestured for her to stay where she was and grabbed her sweater hanging on the hook by the front door. “You’re the cook. Who better to tend the food? I’ll fetch what you need.”

  “Are you sure? It’s going to start pouring any minute.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been looking forward to catching raindrops on my tongue.”

  Rebecca laughed. “I must be getting old. That thought never entered my mind.”

  Sarah smiled back. “Do you need anything else while I’m out there?”

  “Will you be able to carry more than two Mason jars with just the use of one arm?”

  “Of course.”

  “Gut, then please bring me a jar of sliced apples, too.”

  Sarah nodded and hurried out the door before Rebecca could change her mind. She stopped midway between the house and barn and lifted her face to the sky. Thick, dark clouds were rolling in rapidly. A breeze caught the leaves of the trees and teased the dust of the ground into swirls around her feet.

  Maybe spring was one of her favorite seasons. She didn’t have any specific memories to draw from so it was only a guess, but she was pretty sure she was right. She loved the smell of freshly cut grass, the flowering buds that poked their heads through the last of the winter’s snows, the warmth of the day followed by the chill of evening where she would sit in front of a roaring fire and sip a cup of hot chocolate.

  Samuel was right. If she still couldn’t recover memories of the past, she could decide what pleased her now and form new memories for the future. Today she decided that spring was definitely her favorite season.

  She unlatched the barn door. Before she opened it, a sound caught her attention and made her pause. She looked over her shoulder. Had Jacob and Samuel returned?

  She couldn’t see anyone, but an inner awareness told her that she wasn’t alone.

  “Hello. Is anybody there?”

  Her words were swallowed up in the impending storm. She squinted her eyes and tried to focus as she let her gaze wander around the yard. Darkness was descending on the farmyard and the first, fat drops of rain began plopping on the ground. She knew she needed to hurry with her task, find the items and get back to the house before Rebecca started to worry. But still she hesitated. Her senses told her she was being watched, even if her eyes didn’t see anyone.

  “Samuel? Jacob?” she called out as loudly as she could. Nothing but silence.

  Apprehension crept up her spine.

  Hurriedly, she let herself into the barn. The wind had picked up, and she had to exert all her energy to pull the door shut behind her. She briskly walked to the pantry in the far corner of the barn, opened the doors and started to search the shelves for the items. So much food. Rebecca must have cooked and canned all last summer. She had enough stored in here to feed an army.

  But of course, being the bishop, Jacob often had people to the house for a variety of reasons. He likely presided over weddings, counseled those in need, met with the elders of the church and occasionally took his turn conducting church services. Plus, Rebecca had told her that she often delivered food to the sick and shut-ins throughout the year.

  Sarah found the beets and corn quickly. It took a few minutes more to find the apples since Rebecca had jars of pears, peaches and a variety of berries, as well. She slipped two of the jars inside her sling and grinned at how she was finding many other uses for this sling besides just holding a useless arm. With the third jar clasped in her right hand, she shoved the pantry door shut with her forearm.

  She had turned to go back to the house when the sound of metal upon metal froze her in place. Someone tinkered with the handle of the barn door.

  “Hello? Jacob? Samuel?”

  Someone was out there. It was probably one of them, but why hadn’t they answered when she called?
<
br />   The barn door swung open, and a man stepped inside. She knew with just one glance that this wasn’t anyone who should be here this late in the day. This man’s dress was Englisch.

  A shiver of anxiety shook her from head to toe. Why was a complete stranger standing in their barn in the middle of an impending thunderstorm? Panic made her want to run. Logic and common sense kept her calm and standing in place. There had to be a simple explanation.

  The storm! That must be it. Perhaps he was afraid he couldn’t outrun the storm, and he wanted someplace safe to wait for it to pass. Or maybe he had lost his way and just wanted directions to town. No reason to panic.

  “Can I help you?”

  The man didn’t reply but, instead, took several strides in her direction. Just as quickly, Sarah stepped back. Something was wrong. This man didn’t belong here, and he wasn’t answering any of her questions.

  Her heart thundered in her chest.

  Please God, help me. Is this the man who burned the barns? Who killed Peter and shot me? Has he come to kill me?

  “Who are you?” She tried not to reveal her terror, but her voice betrayed her.

  The man sprinted forward.

  Startled by his actions, Sarah dropped the jar from her hand and cried out. She turned and ran toward the back door of the barn. She had almost reached it when she lost her footing and tumbled onto the barn floor. The impact of her body on the barn floor broke the jars hidden in her sling. Glass sliced her skin. The force of the fall shot fresh pain radiating through her arm and shooting into her shoulder.

  Dear Lord, protect my child. Please don’t let this man kill me.

  Stifling a groan, she rolled onto her back to face her assailant. She wouldn’t go easily. She intended to fight for her life—for her child’s life.

  But it was too late. The stranger loomed over her, and she was unable to get to her feet or run. Something was in his hand, but he moved it too quickly for her to identify it.