by Debby Giusti
“Let me know if you hear back from Sheriff Stone.”
“Will do, sir.”
Dawson Timmons, a beefy blond with twinkling eyes, opened the door before either she or the chief could knock. The two men shook hands. The former special agent invited them inside and smiled when Becca handed him a bouquet of flowers she had purchased at the florist earlier in the morning.
“These are for your wife.”
“Lillie loves flowers. Thanks, Becca.” He directed them along a hallway. “Follow the chatter. Lillie’s in the kitchen. I’m sure she’ll want to put the bouquet in water.”
Becca trailed Wilson into a large great room where a number of CID personnel were gathered around a small table filled with a sampling of appetizers. A few wives stood to the side and smiled at Becca. The men made room for the chief around the table where the conversation turned to the upcoming Braves baseball season.
From what she could overhear, the women were discussing their children and the local school system. Just like at all parties, the men and women divided into two groups.
Today, Becca couldn’t focus on anything except the very real possibility that Jacob Yoder was still alive, which wasn’t appropriate conversation for this afternoon gathering. Not feeling part of either group, she grabbed a chip off a nearby table to cover the awkwardness of standing alone in a roomful of people.
“Try the artichoke dip.” Colby appeared at her side.
“It looks good.” She smiled.
Colby had a knack for showing up when she felt most vulnerable. In the past, she hadn’t appreciated his timeliness. That wasn’t the case today.
Following his lead, she scooped a large dollop of dip onto a chip and took a bite, appreciating the rich mix of flavors.
“How are you?” His gaze was filled with concern.
“A little tired, but fine otherwise.”
“Long night.”
“For both of us.” She thought of Elizabeth and her throat tightened.
As if sensing her upset, Colby pointed through the sliding glass doors to the expansive deck that stretched along the back of the house. “Drinks are in the cooler outside. May I get you something?”
“Bottled water, if they have it. Otherwise a soda.”
He squeezed her arm before he headed to the deck. Returning, he carried two waters, which he opened then handed one to her.
“Are you always so thoughtful?” she asked.
“My sisters claim they trained me well.” His smiled revealed their close relationship. “In reality, I’m just a sensitive guy.” He winked, sending a ripple of warmth to circle her heart.
“An officer and a gentleman, right?” Becca repeated the army phrase.
His smile grew even wider. “Always.”
Her cheeks burned, and she took a long drink of the chilled water. Cognitively she knew Colby was laying on the charm, but she enjoyed the slight shift in their relationship, especially since they were away from the office and at a social event. Fatigue probably helped to weaken her defenses. Or perhaps after what they had experienced together yesterday, she was feeling more at ease with Colby at her side.
Even without his sisters’ stamp of approval, she knew he was a good guy who she could trust. Although with his rugged good looks and outgoing personality, he probably had a string of women trying to catch his eye.
Somewhat unsettled by the thought, she reached for another chip, needing to hide the confusion attacking her midsection. Maybe Colby was already spoken for at this point in his life. Some petite blonde who didn’t carry a gun or look over her shoulder whenever she got out of a car.
“You know everyone, don’t you?” He glanced around the room, seemingly oblivious to her internal struggle.
She followed his gaze, hoping to refocus her attention on the invited guests. She knew the CID personnel and had met most of the wives at the post-wide Hail and Farewell when she had first arrived at the fort.
An older woman appeared from the kitchen and placed a tray of stuffed mushrooms on the table.
Colby leaned closer, which sent Becca into a momentary tailspin as she inhaled a lemon-lime scent that was totally masculine.
“That’s Lillie’s mom.” He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Her dad’s helping in the kitchen. I’ll introduce you.”
Knowing close proximity to Colby could be dangerous, at least to her mental well-being, Becca kept space between them as they walked through the dining room and into the kitchen beyond, relieved to be doing something other than breathing in his yummy aftershave.
They found Lillie standing behind a granite-topped island in the kitchen, wearing a wide smile and a flowered dress. She wiped her hands on a cloth and then scurried forward to give Becca a hug. “The flowers are lovely. You shouldn’t have.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
“I want you to meet my parents.” Lillie introduced the Beaumonts, who were just as Colby had said, caring folks whose words of welcome put Becca at ease.
Seeing how they hovered around their daughter caused a tug at Becca’s heart for what had never been part of her own life. As much as Becca needed to forgive the past, she couldn’t let go of the bad decisions her father had made concerning his children as well as the pain of his rejection. If only he had believed her when she had told him about Jacob’s desire to have his way with her. Becca had fought off Jacob’s advances, without the help of her datt, who had ignored the danger and provided her with no other recourse than to flee. Regrettably, Katie had been left behind to suffer the consequences of Jacob’s anger that led to her death two years later. Now Elizabeth was another casualty.
“The grill’s hot.” Entering the kitchen, Dawson flashed an endearing smile at his pretty wife whose expression reflected the love between them, causing another tug at Becca’s heart.
He lifted the roasting pan filled with ribs off the counter, then pointed to a second pan and nodded to Colby. “Lillie cooked the ribs in the oven, but they still need barbecue sauce and a good searing on the grill. Mind giving me a hand?”
“Not a problem.” Grabbing the second pan of ribs, Colby followed Dawson through the back door that led to the deck.
“Do you need help?” Becca asked Lillie once the men had left the room.
Mrs. Beaumont smiled warmly and placed a large bowl of potato salad into Becca’s outstretched hands. “This needs to go on the dining room table.”
Becca did as Mrs. Beaumont asked and returned to the kitchen, thankful to be of service.
“How was the race yesterday?” Lillie pulled a bowl of colorful congealed gelatin salad from the refrigerator.
“You were there?” Becca asked over her shoulder as she headed back to the table with the gelatin.
Lillie shook her head. “Dawson and I were getting things ready here, but we saw your photo in the local paper.”
Becca tucked a stray stand of hair behind her ear. “I—I wasn’t aware anyone took my picture.”
“The photo was taken last week when you were signing up to run.” Lillie shuffled through the papers on a nearby desk. “Here it is.”
The photo showed Becca at the Freemont City Hall, filling out the race forms.
“You might be able to get additional copies from the newspaper office downtown if you want to mail them to family,” Lillie suggested.
“One copy is all I need.” Becca didn’t have any other family members, but she was concerned that someone had seen the photo. Someone from her past. Someone she had been hiding from for eight years.
Colby entered the kitchen, carrying the now-empty roasting pans. “Dawson needs a plate for the ribs.”
Lillie handed him a serving platter. “Remind him I like them good and done.”
“I’ll pass that on.” Colby laughed. “But I migh
t need Becca to back me up.”
“Go ahead.” Lillie motioned both of them outside. “The table’s ready. We’re just waiting for the meat.”
The weather was almost like spring when they stepped outside, though dark clouds hovered in the distance. Becca inhaled deeply, lifting her face to the warmth, glad to have a few minutes to enjoy the sunshine.
The rolling pastures brought back memories of the fields on her father’s farm, although his acreage had never been productive, and he had bemoaned the ground on more than one occasion. He had also lamented that his girls had not been the sons he wanted and needed to manage the farm.
A number of people stood near the grill and watched Dawson flip the ribs, basting both sides. The fire sizzled, and the scent of tangy barbecue sauce and roasted meat filled the air.
Becca turned her attention to the winding country road in the distance. Her gaze narrowed as she spied something unusual for this part of Georgia. The muscles in her neck tightened, and her heart skittered in her chest. On the rise of a far hill, a horse-drawn buggy clip-clopped along the horizon.
“What you looking at?” Colby came up behind her.
Caught off guard by his nearness, she shook her head. “Nothing in particular. Just enjoying the idyllic setting.”
He inhaled deeply. “The sunshine feels good, although we might have rain before long.” He pointed to the dark clouds.
A flurry of activity at the grill caused him to turn. He touched her arm. “Dawson’s taking the ribs inside.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She glanced again at the horse-drawn buggy and shivered, not from the cool breeze that had picked up in the last few minutes, but from what the buggy signified. If the Amish had moved into this area of Georgia, someone could be part of that new community. A man she had never wanted to see again. Jacob Yoder.
If he had seen her photo in the paper, he could have make inquiries about the location of where she lived. Surprised by Ralph Arnold once he had broken in the unoccupied apartment, Jacob could have rigged the explosion that had claimed the project manager’s life.
Becca had been so careful for so long, but coming back to the South could have placed her in Jacob’s path. Two people had died and attempts had been made on her own life. She needed to find Jacob, and the buggy might provide a clue to his whereabouts.
“I want to thank all of you for being with us today,” Dawson said when Becca joined the guests inside. “I also want to ask God’s blessing on the food.”
Colby stared at Becca from the other side of the circle. Not wanting to reveal the mix of emotions welling up within her, she lowered her head and folded her hands while Dawson gave thanks for the food they were about to eat, for the military and CID and for all those in uniform who served. At the conclusion of his prayer, everyone joined in a heartfelt “Amen.”
Dawson pointed them toward the dining room. “Ladies and gentlemen, please grab a plate and get some chow.”
The people filed through the line and headed for the more casual but comfortable family room where they sat around two long folding tables.
Lillie handed out additional napkins to wipe the barbecue sauce from their sticky fingers. “Delicious,” many said as they enjoyed the meaty ribs.
Chief Wilson sat back once he had finished eating and chuckled when Dawson took his empty plate. “I never knew you had culinary skills when you were with the CID”
“It’s Lillie, sir. She taught me everything I know.” He glanced at his wife across the room and winked. She responded with a fetching smile that wasn’t lost on Becca.
From the hint of longing that flashed momentarily across Colby’s face, he too had noticed the intimate exchange.
“Thanks for inviting us here today,” the chief said. “It’s nice to be in the country.”
He pointed toward the deck. “I’m not sure how many of you saw the horse and buggy on that distant farm road when Dawson was taking the ribs off the grill.”
“I heard there’s a new Amish community in the area,” one of the men mentioned.
Wilson nodded in agreement. “As you know, the commanding general is committed to working with the Freemont community. To further that goal, he’s interested in hosting a farmers’ market and craft fair. His wife is spearheading a taskforce of folks to organize the first event to be held in the field beside the Fort Rickman museum. Mrs. Cameron asked us to work with the military police to provide security. I’ll need someone from the CID to represent us on the committee. If anyone’s interested, let me know.”
“Sir, do you have any idea how many families are in the community and where they came from?” Becca asked.
“I should have more information in the next day or so. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Lillie excused herself to prepare the dessert. Becca followed her to the kitchen with her empty plate in hand.
“Did you save room for red velvet cake?” Lillie opened the freezer and pulled out a container of ice cream. A large cake with cream-cheese icing sat on the counter.
“I’m too full from the wonderful meal. Thank you for a delightful afternoon.”
“Do you have to get back to post?” Dawson asked as he entered the kitchen.
“I’m afraid so. Everything was lovely. I appreciate you including me.”
Becca left through the kitchen door and hurried to her car. Instead of returning to Fort Rickman, she planned to head in the direction the buggy had gone earlier, hoping the road would lead to the Amish community.
If Jacob Yoder were still alive, would it be too much of a coincidence to have him living close to Freemont and neighboring Fort Rickman?
Becca had spent eight years hiding out in foreign countries to elude his wrath, but she wouldn’t live her life looking over her shoulder any longer. From now on, she would take back the life he had ruined.
Glancing at the Timmonses’ home, she thought of Colby and his desire to help her. He’d supported her when she found Elizabeth’s body and had shoved her out of the line of fire later that night. They were supposed to be working together, but leaving without him seemed the best option. She didn’t want him to get involved.
Then she thought of his strong arms and steady gaze and the way her heart fluttered when she smelled his aftershave. Was she making a mistake by excluding him today?
* * *
When Becca didn’t return to the family room, Colby excused himself and headed for the kitchen where he found Lillie arranging ice cream and cake on desert dishes. Her mother stood at a nearby counter and poured cream into a small pitcher, which she placed next to a sugar bowl on a large serving tray.
“Dessert’s almost ready,” Lillie said as she rinsed his dinner plate in the sink.
“I’ll have to pass, although it looks delicious.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I thought Becca Miller was with you.”
“She left a few minutes ago.”
Colby thanked Lillie and then stretched out his hand to Dawson before he hastened from the house. Had mention of the Amish community upset Becca?
Focused on picking up her trail, he opened his car door and sighed with relief when he saw her sitting in the passenger seat.
She smiled coyly. “I knew you’d follow me so I decided if we’re a team, we’d better stick together.”
Slipping behind the wheel, he clicked on his seat belt. “Good decision. We’ll come back for your car later. Right now, I presume you want to go to the new Amish community.”
“Seems we’re thinking alike.”
As he pulled out of the driveway, Colby knew they’d overcome a huge hurdle. Becca had realized they could work together. If Jacob Yoder was still alive, she’d need backup and another set of eyes to keep her safe. Hopefully, she’d want him around for other
reasons, as well. Becca had gotten to him, but in a good way, and Colby wanted to be the person she needed most of all.
EIGHT
The road Becca and Colby followed eventually spilled into an area dotted with farms on both sides. As Colby drove, she stared out the window, thinking back to house raisings in Harmony, when neighbors gathered to help new families get started.
Hard work was an Amish trait, which her father hadn’t inherited. Instead, he bemoaned the lack of sons, causing Becca to overcompensate and try to do the manual labor as well as maintain the house. No matter how hard she tried, she could never do enough to please him. When he had ordered her to accept Jacob Yoder’s offer to keep house for his sickly wife, Becca had hoped things would change. Regrettably, they had only gotten worse.
In the distance, she spied a number of buggies parked beside a farmhouse and a newly built barn.
“What’s going on?” Colby asked.
“Looks like a barn raising. Everyone comes together to help.”
“That’s a great way to share the load.”
“As a child, I loved gathering for such an event,” Becca reminisced. “After the work was done, the children were allowed to romp outdoors while the adults visited.”
Colby’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at her. “I know you were cute in your long skirt and apron.”
“I was too tall and much too thin. Gangly would be the best word to describe me. My mother said I’d eventually grow into my body, although she didn’t live long enough to see me through that awkward stage.”
“You probably tried to fill your mother’s shoes.”
“And didn’t succeed. My father said I was the cross he had to bear.”
“That’s tough on a kid.” Colby shrugged. “On anyone.”
“He was never a happy man, but his temperament changed after my mother died. He’d injured his back some years earlier and was besieged with pain. Plus, the farm work was more than we could handle. Katie and I helped, but in his opinion, we never did enough.”