by Diane Burke
Please Lord, don’t let it be a gun.
The man raised his hand high and pointed the object at her.
She flung her arm up to protect her face, squeezed her eyes closed and screamed.
TWELVE
Sarah tried to prepare herself for the sound of gunfire and the slamming pain she expected at any moment from bullets entering her body. Still, she refused to give up. She crab walked on her back as quickly as she could in a last-ditch attempt to scurry away from the stranger.
Instead of gunfire, she heard a muffled oomph.
Sarah opened her eyes and couldn’t believe what she saw. As if caught in a tornado, the stranger was lifted straight up into the air. His body flew several feet to her right and slammed hard into one of the barn’s support beams. She leaned up on her elbows for a closer look, but before she could react she felt hands pulling on the back of her arms.
“Kumm, Sarah, let me help you.” Jacob helped her to her feet. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
Sarah brushed at her clothing. “I’m fine, Jacob. Just scared.”
The sound of a strangled scream caught their attention, and both of them hurried toward the stranger.
“Nee, Samuel, don’t.” Jacob tried to pull Sam’s hands off the man. Samuel had a fisted hold on some kind of binding around the man’s neck and was holding the stranger several inches off the ground by it. The man looked terrified, his face red, eyes bulging, breath coming in gasps.
“Stop, Samuel. Let him go.” Jacob tried to insert his body between them. “This is not our way.”
With a ferocity that Sarah had never witnessed before, Sam pushed Jacob away and refused to release his hold on the stranger. “I am not one of you. Remember? This is my way, so step back.”
Sarah rushed forward and gently placed her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “But is it God’s way, Samuel?”
Sarah wasn’t sure whether it was the truth of her words, the sound of her voice or her touch, but Sam froze. He seemed to struggle for a few minutes with his anger, but gradually gained control. He released the hold on the binding around the man’s neck and let him fall to his feet. The stranger doubled at the waist and coughed and gasped for breath.
“Who are you?” Sam loomed over the man. His tone of voice threatened more violence if he didn’t receive the answers he wanted.
“Roger...Roger Mathers.” The stranger started to reach inside his pocket.
Sam drew his weapon with lightning speed and had it aimed at point-blank range at the man’s chest before the gasp left Sarah’s lips.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
The stranger did as he was told. “I was just going to show you my credentials.” His voice trembled.
“Do it slow and easy.” Sam’s tone of voice and stern expression brooked no hesitation.
Roger pulled out a plastic card with his photograph and name printed on it. His fingers trembled as he offered it to Sam, who snatched it from his grasp and read it.
“A reporter? I don’t believe it.” He threw the identification back at the man. It bounced off his chest and landed on the dirt floor. “You’re working for a sleazebag tabloid?” Sam muttered something unintelligible under his breath. “What are you doing sneaking around out here?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm. Do you know how much money I could get for an exclusive picture? Everyone knows the Amish don’t like their pictures taken. But a picture like this one...” He hung his head. “My wife’s sick. I need the money.”
For the first time, Sarah took a good look at the man. She saw the camera hanging from a thick cord at his neck. That’s what he’d pointed at her—a camera, not a gun. A wave of relief flowed over her. She noted the bright red marks on the man’s neck from the camera strap and felt sorry for him. “What is wrong with your wife?”
“She needs an operation.” He looked hopeful. “Just one picture would guarantee that for me.”
Sam grabbed the man and slammed him back against the wood. “Knock it off, Mathers. Stop trying to play on her sympathies, you creep. You don’t have a sick wife. Tell them the truth.” He knocked him back again. “Tell them.”
“Okay!” He raised his hands. “So I don’t have a wife. So what? Get your hands off me before I press charges.”
“Call the sheriff. Go for it. I’d love to see what happens when a trespasser calls in to report his own crime.”
Mathers’s face contorted into an angry grimace, and he swatted Sam’s hands away.
Sarah’s mouth fell open. No wife? No operation? How could a person lie so convincingly? Worse, how much evil had Samuel witnessed that he would recognize it so quickly and easily?
Jacob had remained silent through it all, but now Sarah heard low murmured prayers behind her. Apparently, Jacob was uncomfortable in the presence of evil, too.
“How did you find her?” Sam folded his arms over his chest and returned the glare.
“Easy.” He moved his hand toward his inside coat pocket, waited for Sam to nod permission and pulled out a folded paper. “The dry-goods store sells these church directories.”
Sam took the paper from his hand and looked it over, then he glanced at Jacob. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? This paper not only has all the names and addresses of everyone in the community, but it also has a map to each farm.”
Jacob blinked and looked confused. “Of course. Many Amish communities publish this information. We do not want anyone who wishes to attend a church service to get lost or to forget who is having the service that particular week.” Jacob looked puzzled. “Have you been gone so long, Samuel, that you forgot something as common and simple as this?”
A flush of red crept up Sam’s neck. Instead of responding to Jacob, he grabbed Mathers by his coat collar and shoved him toward the door. “Get out of here. Don’t set foot on this property again, or you’ll get more than my hands on you. I guarantee I’ll be the one calling the sheriff. You’ll have a one-way handcuffed trip to jail for trespassing on private property.”
Without a backward glance, Mathers ran out of the barn.
* * *
Sam watched Mathers’s back. Not because he wanted to make sure the man was gone. Like the cockroach he was, he knew the man would scurry into the night. No, he needed the few precious moments to gain control of his emotions before he could turn and face Sarah.
The sound of her screams still echoed in his head. His heart hammered in his chest. Adrenaline raced through his blood.
“What’s going on? Who was that man?” Rebecca, her coat flapping open and her kapp askew, rushed into the barn. “Is everything all right? I came out to check when Sarah hadn’t returned.”
Jacob slid his arm over Rebecca’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Ya, everything is as it should be. We are all fine and hungry. Ain’t so, Samuel?”
Sam didn’t respond. Instead, he turned toward Sarah. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself. As if in a slow-motion movie, he reached out and drew her to him. His arms encircled her waist. He felt her cheek press against his chest. With his left hand, he cradled the top of her head against him.
“Sarah...” It was all he could say—and it said everything. The anguish, the fear, the concern. His emotions coated his words, and there was no hiding the feelings behind them.
Rebecca gasped at the sight of the sudden intimacy.
“Samuel.” Jacob’s voice was firm and censuring.
Sam couldn’t process Jacob’s words or his tone. All he could think about was how close he’d come to losing her—again.
“When I saw that man standing over you, it was like a switch went off inside of me, and all I felt was rage.” Samuel loosened his hold enough to let her move a step back. “Not just for the threat he presented. But mostly at myself, I think, because I
let you down again.”
“Shh.” Sarah placed her fingertips on his lips and looked into his eyes. “You did not let me down, Samuel. You saved me.”
The shimmering in her brilliant blue eyes and the smile on her perfectly shaped lips clenched his heart as tightly as if it were squeezed in an iron fist. He was developing feelings for this woman. He couldn’t deny it anymore to anyone, not even himself.
But he couldn’t let it continue.
He was her bodyguard. Her protector. He had to keep his emotions in check, his mind sharp so he’d be able to do the job. There was a definite, though invisible, line drawn between every bodyguard and victim, a line he couldn’t cross. Not now. Not ever.
And in Sarah’s case, it was more than a line. It was a canyon-size gorge, impossible to bridge. She was a pregnant, vulnerable Amish widow. He was an Englischer who would return to a world that held no place for the sweetness or softness of Sarah. Whether he harbored feelings for her was no longer the question. He did. But if he didn’t want to hurt her, he had to bury those feelings. Permanently. Right now.
“Samuel!” This time Jacob’s voice demanded attention. When Sam looked at him, he said, “Rebecca can tend to Sarah. We should go into the house and clean up for dinner.”
Their eyes met. Jacob’s gaze was stern, clearly showing displeasure in the inappropriate affection Sam had just shown Sarah. Sam’s eyes held both shame for dishonoring these kind people, as well as challenge that he wasn’t able to express his heart.
It was Rebecca’s gaze that made him feel guilt and hang his head. She looked shocked and disappointed and wary...as if a trust had been broken. And it had.
“Kumm.” Rebecca rushed past him to Sarah’s side. “I don’t know what happened, but you can tell me all about it while we get dinner on the table.”
Sarah glanced down at her soiled sling and dress. “I’m so sorry, Rebecca. I broke the Mason jars when I fell.”
“Were you hurt?”
“I banged my shoulder pretty hard.” She grinned humorously. “Just when the pain went away, now it is back again.”
“Let’s go inside. We’ll get you in dry clothes and make sure you didn’t do more damage to yourself. It is a good thing you are scheduled to see Dr. Clark in the morning. He will fix you up good as new.”
“But the vegetables...”
“It doesn’t matter. We have more. Jacob, please bring in some corn and beets.” Wrapping her arm around Sarah’s shoulders, she ushered her toward the house, but not before shooting a warning glance at Sam that said it all.
Stand back. Keep away. She belongs to us, not you.
And she was right.
Jacob didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He handed Sam a Mason jar, clapped his hand a couple of times on his back as though consoling him, and then the two men walked in silence to the house.
* * *
The following morning Sam offered his hand to Rebecca and helped her out of the back of the car. He wished he’d been able to be the driver that morning when he’d accompanied the women to see Dr. Clark. It would have made the trip go faster and less stressful.
He was sure his cover had been blown, anyway. News travels quickly in an Amish community, and he could tell from the nods and glances sent his way that everyone knew by now who and what he was. It also stood to reason that the stranger in town who’d been seeking Sarah and the “man protecting her” had a pretty good idea that he was a cop and not an Amish farmer.
But undercover meant undercover. Until they were certain his cover was no longer in place, he had to act as if it were.
So he had climbed into the backseat and let one of the other police officers act as driver today. He’d been smart and had made sure to sit between the door and Rebecca, setting himself an acceptable distance from Sarah. He had no desire to endure another day of sharp, disapproving glances from Rebecca as he had through dinner last night. It seemed to work. The less attention he gave Sarah, the more Rebecca relaxed.
Once Rebecca exited, he turned to offer a hand to Sarah. He kept his face an unreadable mask. He was certain no one could see in his expression just how lovely he thought Sarah’s blond hair looked now that the bandages had been removed from her head. Even tucked beneath her white kapp, enough errant strands escaped to glisten like gold and make his fingers itch to see if it felt as silky as it looked.
He didn’t allow a smile to cross his lips when, free of the sling she no longer had to wear, she stretched her left arm across the back of the seat.
And he was particularly careful to keep any tenderness out of his eyes when he noted how her dress stretched across the growing swell of her body as she scooted across the seat.
“Danki, Samuel.” She smiled that beautiful, sweet smile of hers and he thought he’d melt at her feet. Before he made a fool of himself, she turned away.
Jacob met them in the yard with a horse already hitched to a wagon and waiting.
“Are we going to Nathan Yoder’s house now?” Sarah asked when she saw him. “It’s our day to help with the boppli and the housework, isn’t it?”
“Nee, it is my day to help,” Rebecca replied. “You had a long trip back and forth to the city today. You heard what the doctor said. You are healing nicely and getting stronger, but you need more rest. He does not want you to overdo it.”
“But...”
“You can be helpful without coming with me.”
Sarah gave her a questioning look.
“It would be wunderbaar to come home to a hot meal. I have a pot of stew that needs tending.”
“That is not much of a chore, Rebecca, to stir a pot of stew every now and then.”
“Your job today is to rest. You can work your fingers to the bone tomorrow.”
Jacob finished loading the back of the wagon with supplies. “Ya, Sarah. I would appreciate a hot bowl of stew when I finish the repairs on Nathan’s barn. I understand that, to you, it does not seem like much of a chore. To us, it is a task we hope you will do well because we will be looking forward to the rewards all day.”
The small group laughed. Sarah nodded and threw up her hands in surrender. “Okay, Jacob. I will stir the stew.”
“Danki.” Jacob helped Rebecca into the wagon.
Sarah watched them pull away. “Be sure to kiss the boppli for me,” she yelled as the wagon moved down the lane. Her words were answered with a wave from both of them.
“Should we go into the house?” Sam stood near the porch steps and waited.
“Nee, Samuel. I need you to prepare the buggy for me. I’m going into town.”
Sam frowned at her but refrained from offering what he knew would be a useless argument. When Sarah set her mind on something, she was not easily swayed from doing it.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
Sarah opened her mouth to speak and then shut it. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to stay behind?”
Sam scowled.
“I didn’t think so. We’re going into town. A hot, steamy stew should be accompanied by a hot, sweet dessert. I found a wonderful recipe in a cookbook I was looking at the other day. I want to try it, but Rebecca does not have all the necessary ingredients.”
“Dessert. Ah, you found my soft spot. I’ll have the horse hitched up in no time.”
“Good. But we must hurry. I need to get back in plenty of time to tend the stew and make the dessert.”
* * *
They rode in companionable silence for a good part of the journey. The brisk morning air kissed her cheeks, but she enjoyed the feel of the fresh breeze against her skin. The billowing, uncut grass in the meadows and the bare tree branches rapidly being clothed with green leaves made her smile. She thanked God for such a beautiful day.
“Are you going to give me a hint about what kind
of dessert you’ll be making?” Sam grinned at her.
“Nee.”
“No? You’d really torture me like that? I’m sitting here thinking up one thing after another, each one better than before, and my stomach is growling. Can’t you hear it?”
“I won’t tell you, but you can try to guess.”
He laughed, and the deep rumble in his throat made Sarah’s smile widen.
“A homemade cherry pie,” he guessed.
“Nee.”
“No? Then pumpkin. Or sweet potato, maybe.”
“Not even close.”
“Apples. You’re making crisp apple strudel or baked apples and cream.”
Sarah shook her head.
“Give me a hint.”
“We are not shopping for fruit, Samuel. Rebecca has more than enough. I need chocolate and heavy cream and marshmallows and—”
Before she could finish, Sam grabbed at his chest as if he was having a heart attack. “Oh, you’re killing me. I love chocolate. I am a chocolate fool. It’s my deep, dark secret that I can be easily manipulated with just the promise of chocolate.”
Sarah giggled at the silliness of their game. But then Samuel always brought a smile to her face, made her feel happy and content, sometimes by doing nothing more than walking through a door.
Suddenly, their horse flung her head in the air and moved slightly right and then left.
Sam stopped the teasing banter and turned his attention to the horse. He tightened his grip on the reins and spoke to the mare. “Easy, girl. Take it easy.”
The horse tossed its head again and whinnied.
“Something is spooking her.” Sarah checked both the road ahead and the landscape. “I don’t see anything that should be frightening her.”
Sam pulled back on the reins and continued speaking in a calm, soothing voice. “Whoa, girl. Quiet down. You’re okay.” He slowed the mare from a brisk trot to a steady walk.
Within seconds, the roar of a car engine sounded behind them.
“What the...” Sam threw a glance over his shoulder and then turned back to soothe the horse, who grew more agitated as the car approached.