by Diane Burke
Sam hung his hat on a peg by the door. “Do you know the rest of that story, Sarah? I believe it was the turtle who won the race.”
Sarah’s eyes widened with bewilderment. “What nonsense are you saying? When did you ever see a jackrabbit and a turtle race each other?”
Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Never mind. Go stand by the fire and warm yourself.”
Sarah’s smile was all he needed to feel warm. He watched her weave in and out between the tables, stopping for a quick word and always sharing a smile with many of the folks who spoke to her on her way. When she reached the fire, she shot him a quick look and then rubbed her hands together near the open flame.
“She looks happy today, ya?”
Sam had been so absorbed in watching Sarah that he hadn’t heard Rebecca approach, and the sound of her voice startled him.
“Hello, Rebecca. Yes, she looks very happy today. It must be Josiah and Anna’s wedding. The festivities seem to have lifted everyone’s spirits.”
“Not everyone’s spirits were lifted today. Some of our hearts are still heavily burdened with loss.” Her eyes glistened. “Let me ask you, Samuel. This man—the one who kills our loved ones, who burns our neighbors’ barns...” Rebecca’s voice choked as tears threatened to fall, but she took a deep breath and held them at bay. “How much longer do you think it will be before you find this man?”
“Soon, Rebecca.” He hurried to reassure her and ease her pain. “He is getting careless and sloppy. He is out of his element now, in the country, not his familiar city setting, having to work quickly without help and not having the luxury of time to plot and double-check and plan. He is getting careless and frustrated and desperate. I believe it will be very soon when he will make a mistake that he will not be able to fix. Then we’ll get him.”
Rebecca considered his words and nodded. “Gut. Sarah needs this to be over. We all do.”
Sam glanced in Sarah’s direction and smiled. “Meanwhile, she is getting stronger and healthier each day.”
Rebecca nodded. “Ya, that is true. Because she is home now, where she belongs—with her family and her community surrounding her, loving her, supporting her.”
Sam straightened and tried not to bristle at the poorly veiled meaning behind her words.
Rebecca folded her hands in front of her and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. “I see the way you look at her, Samuel. More importantly, I see the way she looks at you.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but Rebecca raised a hand in a silencing motion. “It is natural for her to have feelings for you. You are a gut man, strong, kind, protective. She feels vulnerable and afraid, and she has no memories of the man she loved...of the man whose child she carries...so she turns to you. I understand.”
Sam didn’t want to have this conversation, didn’t want to hear what he knew Rebecca was about to say, but he remained silent and showed her respect by listening.
“You must be the strong one, Samuel. You must be the man whom all of us have come to know and respect. You must find this man—and I believe with God’s help, you will—and then you must leave. Quickly. To ease her pain at seeing you go. We will take care of her when you are gone. After all, we are her family.”
Rebecca locked her gaze with his. Sam almost had to look away from the pleading look in her eyes. “I have loved her as my own daughter since she was a small child on a neighboring farm. Often, she would come to our farm to play. I watched her grow into a beautiful young woman. I was so happy when Peter fell in love with her and asked her to be his wife.”
She paused and stared off into space, reliving those distant memories. When she turned her attention back to him, she wore her pain like a heavy shawl.
“She carries my grandchild, the only part of Peter that I have left. Sarah’s world is with us, and your world—” She shrugged her shoulders. “You made your choice many years ago, ya?”
Pain ripped through his heart as physically as if she had struck him with a dagger. But she was right. He had no intention of returning to the Amish community—and they would shun Sarah if he tried to take her with him.
“Be a gut man, Samuel. Be strong. Protect her from the evil of your world.”
Anger bubbled beneath the surface and raced through his body. “Do you want what is best for Sarah, or what is best for you? Have you discussed this with her? Would she leave with me if I asked her to go?”
Rebecca sighed deeply. “No, Samuel. We did not speak of such things.” Her gaze wandered to the other side of the room. Both of them watched Sarah as she teased and played with some children at a nearby table. Her laughter floated through the air like the tinkling of wind chimes and hovered over the rumble of conversations at the tables.
Rebecca turned her attention back to him. “I am not too old to remember what it feels like to give my heart to a man. When Sarah looks at you, I see it in her eyes. I think she has already given her heart. I think maybe she would go with you if you asked.”
Rebecca stepped closer. “But just because someone can do something, Samuel, does not mean they should do it. Sometimes the wrong decision brings only heartache and pain. Be a gut man. Help Sarah make the right decision. You may not like my words, but you know my words are true. Sarah belongs here with her people, not in your world of evil and killing and pain.”
She patted his hand like a mother who had just scolded her child, but wanted to assure the boy that he was not bad, just his actions.
He hadn’t felt that motherly admonition for many years, and it was just that action that made him face the truth. She was right. He had to leave—soon—and if he loved Sarah, then he would be leaving alone.
Overcome with emotion, he grabbed his hat, donned his coat and stepped outside. He checked in with the other two officers watching the house, told them he would be out of contact for a bit and to keep a sharp eye on Sarah.
With bent head and heavy heart, he walked away.
* * *
The man’s teeth chattered, and he salted the air with a string of curses. He should be home. He envisioned himself standing before a roaring fire with a snifter of brandy in his hand as he looked through the wall of glass to the ocean below. That’s where he belonged.
Not here, perched in a tree, hidden by leaves and clinging to branches so he wouldn’t fall to his death.
He cursed John Zook. Why had he ever allowed the man to join his team? What a colossal mistake that had been, and he wasn’t a man who made many mistakes.
Who would have ever believed that stupid Amish lout would find the backbone to steal his diamonds? Steal! From him!
He should have cut his losses and called an end to this long ago. After all, he certainly didn’t need the money. His expertise at ridding the rich of their wealth had served him well over the years. A smile bowed his lips when he pictured some of the art and fine gems in his collection.
No, it was not the loss of the diamonds. Money could always be replaced. And what did it matter, since none of it had been his in the first place?
It was the betrayal he couldn’t forgive.
No one betrayed him and lived.
So he’d followed Zook and punished him appropriately. He hadn’t anticipated the resulting mess. The Amish husband rushing to his wife’s defense. The woman surviving—twice—but unable to remember. Yet.
He definitely had a mess on his hands, and he didn’t like messes.
But it would soon be over.
If he killed the woman, then none of the others would dare come forward. He’d read that the Amish were big on forgiveness. They often didn’t prosecute offenders and rarely testified in courts. Yep, kill the woman and the others would be so afraid for their children—and themselves—that he would feel safe to return home, where he belonged. He couldn’t bear being away for even one more night.
<
br /> Today it would end.
He glanced at the sky. The sun would be setting shortly. The party at the Lapp residence would soon be over. He’d have to act fast. He’d thought it over and decided it would be easier to strike when hundreds of people milled about the place rather than try to isolate her when she was on her own.
He wasn’t worried about the cops. Oh, they kept watch over her, sure. But they could be easily distracted. They weren’t as invested in her well-being as that one who’d followed her here from the hospital. There was probably something going on between the two of them. But he didn’t care. He hoped the guy got what he wanted from his lady friend because their little romance was coming to an end real quick.
He lifted binoculars to his eyes for another surveillance of the party and couldn’t believe his good fortune. That cop—the undercover one who thought he could fool him by dressing Amish—was leaving.
He adjusted the lens and took a second look. He watched him consult with the other two cops and then walk off. He watched his hurried gait, his bent head, his stooped shoulders.
Uh-oh. Something had happened. A love spat, maybe? This guy didn’t look happy, and he definitely didn’t look like he was coming back.
It was time. He smiled in anticipation. Soon this would be over. He would be home and safe. He could almost taste the brandy on his lips.
With agile movements, he lowered himself to the ground. He had to move fast—and it had to be now.
FIFTEEN
“William, you forgot your sweater.” Sarah stood in the doorway, waving them in front of her. The boy rushed back, took the sweater from her with a hurried “Danki,” and ran off to join the mass of children playing in the yard.
Benjamin came up beside her in the doorway. “Danki, Sarah. I worry about that boy. His head is always in the clouds.”
“He is young still, Benjamin. He will settle down soon enough.”
Benjamin frowned. “Sometimes he seems so distracted, I worry he can’t walk a straight line across the yard.” Benjamin shook his head. “Always getting into trouble, that one. Not bad behavior. Just foolish behavior from not thinking things through.”
“How old is he now? Seven? Eight?”
“Seven. Old enough to stop all that daydreaming.”
“Who knows? Maybe William will use his creativity to be a great writer or painter.”
Benjamin frowned. “Sarah, you should know by now that the Amish do not take great stock in those foolish things. I will be happy if he is a great farmer.”
Sarah chuckled. “Ah, but Benjamin, think about it. The good Lord created all of us. Each one of us is the same, yet different. It is those differences, those individual talents, that make us unique and special, ya?”
Before he could reply, both Benjamin and Sarah ducked as a baseball flew past their heads and crashed through the front window.
“Sorry, Daed. I was trying to throw the ball to you.” William, wearing a worried expression, stood at the bottom of the steps looking up at them.
Benjamin frowned. “Throw it to me? Did you call my name? Did you let me know the ball was coming my way? Look what you’ve done to Bishop Lapp’s window. Think what you could have done if you had hit me in the head!”
William hung his head. “I’m sorry, Daed. I will do chores for the bishop to help pay for the broken glass.”
“That you will!” Benjamin looked at Sarah. “See what I mean? Now I must speak to Jacob about this.” Sighing heavily, he reached down to retrieve his hat, which had fallen to the ground, plopped it on his head and went back inside.
“I didn’t mean to hit the window,” William said, his gaze trailing after his father.
“I know you didn’t.” Sarah lowered her voice to a whisper. “But next time you aim for your father, William, make sure he knows it is coming. Now go back and play.” She shooed him away.
Sarah stepped back inside the house. Most of the adults were preparing for their trip home. The women finished washing dishes and wrapping up leftover food. The men carried the benches out to the wagon used to transport them from farm to farm for services, and then they collapsed and stored the long plastic picnic tables for future use.
“Anything I can do to help, Mrs. Lapp?”
Sarah glanced at Officer Muldoon. He looked too young to be a cop. She bet his maam found it difficult to watch him don the uniform and walk out the door with a gun strapped to his side each day. Sarah placed a hand on her swelling belly and thanked God she would never have to carry that worry in her heart for her child. The worst that could happen to him or her was to be kicked by a horse or hurt by some farm equipment.
She’d found it difficult to see Samuel carry a gun. He hadn’t liked it, but had complied with her wishes when she asked that the gun be put away for this occasion. There were so many women and children attending today’s wedding. This was not a time or place for guns.
Sarah glanced around and then looked back at the officer. “Have you seen Detective King anywhere?”
“He left about an hour ago. He asked us to keep an eye on things.”
“Left?” A frown twisted her lips. “Where did he go?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t ask. But you’re in good hands, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried, Officer Muldoon. I am sure you will do a good job.”
Sarah smiled and then walked away.
How strange. Even in the hospital, Samuel had barely left her out of his sight. Since they came home from the hospital, he’d never been farther than the sound of her voice. So why would he suddenly leave without a word of his whereabouts to anyone? It seemed so unlike him.
Seeing the bride and groom preparing to leave, she hurried over to offer her congratulations and best wishes for their future together. En route, she said her goodbyes to several other families that were heading out. When she’d accomplished her task, she sat down in front of the fireplace to rest—and think.
She still couldn’t understand Samuel’s sudden disappearance. She knew he didn’t owe her any explanation—but still. She thought back to the last time she’d seen him, and then remembered him standing by the front door speaking with Rebecca. Maybe he’d said something to her.
Sarah found Rebecca in the kitchen putting away the dishes. “Do you need any help?”
“Danki, child, but no. This is the last of it. Many hands made the work disappear fast.” Rebecca sent a puzzled look her way. “Is everything all right? You look troubled.”
“Everything’s fine. I was just wondering if Samuel might have said something to you before he left. I saw him talking with you earlier, and I haven’t seen him since.”
Rebecca’s cheeks flushed a bright red, and she averted her eyes. If Sarah didn’t know better, she would have thought the woman felt guilty about something. But that certainly couldn’t be the reason for the flush, could it?
“Rebecca?”
The older woman tucked pots into lower drawers on the stove, and then pretended to wash an already clean countertop.
“Do you know why Samuel left? Or where he went?” Sarah asked.
Rebecca turned and planted her hands on her hips. “I think you pay that young man much too much attention. We both know that his job brought him here, and when the job is done he will leave. It is best you remember that and go about your business.”
Stunned by her harsh tone, Sarah simply nodded and stepped away. She’d never heard Rebecca utter a stern word before, and it shocked her. Of course, she couldn’t remember if there had been any harsh words spoken between them in the past. She could only base her opinion on her experience with the woman now.
Maybe the stress of the past month, along with everything that happened since Sarah had come home, was catching up with Rebecca. Yes, that must be it. The woman was tired and still grieving. A bi
t out of sorts. Anyone would be. She’d have to be a little kinder, a little quicker to offer help.
But still...
Something didn’t feel right. Sarah thought Rebecca knew much more than she was saying.
Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, Sarah stepped onto the front porch. Maybe a little walk would do her good, make her feel less restless. She told herself that she was just getting some exercise. She would not allow herself to believe she was looking for Samuel.
“Going somewhere, Mrs. Lapp?”
“Officer Muldoon, please call me Sarah. I have trouble remembering to answer to Mrs. Lapp.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sarah smiled. “And please don’t call me ma’am. In our language, that means mother.” She squelched a giggle at the bashful and embarrassed look he sent her way.
“Yes, ma’am...uh, Sarah.” He looked around and then asked, “Are you walking alone? Would you like me to accompany you?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m not venturing far. I just feel the need to stretch my legs.”
As they spoke, Officer Jenkins appeared. “Everything okay here?”
Sarah laughed. “How could it not be with so many attentive gentlemen watching over me?” She folded her hands in front of her. “I just wanted to stretch my legs. You can both sit on the porch. I promise I won’t leave your sight. I just want some time alone with my thoughts.”
“Seems to be a lot of that going around lately.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow in question.
“Detective King told me the same thing not so long ago.” Jenkins nodded toward the porch. “We’ll wait over there. But please don’t leave the yard.”
Sarah acknowledged his words with a nod and continued her walk.
Samuel needed time alone with his thoughts?
Once again the niggling feeling that Rebecca knew more than she was saying returned. She’d only strolled a few yards when the ground shook beneath Sarah’s feet, and the sound of an explosion deafened her.
Children who had still been playing in the yard raced for the safety of their parents’ arms. Screams rent the air. Men’s voices of alarm and concern added to the cacophony. The police officers scrambled off the porch. Jenkins ran to their vehicle. Muldoon hurried to her side.