by Alison Stone
“My interviews with Samuel show he was confident that testifying against his father was the right thing to do.”
“After his father’s death...” She stopped to compose herself, then continued, “...Samuel retreated away from everyone. Then this summer, after Elmer’s death, he got worse. Far worse. I’m afraid soon I’ll have lost him for gut.”
She faced him squarely. “Perhaps you can talk to him about his father? I can’t bear to do it. You could convince Samuel that he did the right thing. By stopping his father, he undoubtedly saved lives.” Hope laced her soft voice.
“I can.” Jake turned up her driveway as dusk gathered. He thought he saw a light go off in the basement. Maybe it was the reflection of his headlights in the uneven glass of the narrow basement windows.
“I have built a solid relationship with Samuel and a group of other young Amish men. I can talk to them. I’ll encourage him to come to you. But I must be cautious about how much I reveal. They are young adults. He’s at the age where he needs to be making his own decisions. Living his own life. And dealing with consequences on his own.”
Rebecca unbuckled her seat belt and pushed the door open a fraction. She bowed her head, leaving him studying the top of her bonnet. “Thank you.” She twisted to get out of the car.
“Let me walk you to the door.”
She held up her hand in refusal.
“The house is dark.” Now he was second-guessing himself. Had he seen a light snap off in the basement?
“Samuel is...out.” The statement seemed more a question. “My daughters are visiting my brother, Mark, spending the night. I’ll turn on a lamp once I get inside. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? The incident on campus must have rattled you. I think we should’ve called the sheriff.”
“Neh, I want to put the night behind me. We’ve had enough trouble out here.”
Jake pushed his truck door open. “I’m escorting you to the door.”
“Neh.” Rebecca shook her head for emphasis. “I’ve been on my own for well over a year now. I don’t need a man to walk me to the door. I’m not looking to bring more trouble into my life. If Samuel trusts you and is talking to you, I want that to continue. You’re right. I shouldn’t have interfered. And—” a shy smile tilted the corners of her mouth “—I don’t want to give my neighbors another reason to gossip.” Rebecca ran her fingers down the ties of her bonnet. “You can find me at the diner if there’s anything about Samuel you feel you can share.”
Jake stared at her for a long moment, then pulled his door closed. “Okay.” Her dismissal had been unmistakable. “Please turn on a light once you get inside. I’m not leaving until you do.”
Without saying another word, Rebecca climbed out of the car. In the growing darkness, he watched her move toward the farmhouse, her full skirt swinging around her legs. He had spent three years studying the Amish youth, but he had never had a conversation like he’d experienced tonight.
Rebecca’s dark hair and dark eyes would stay in his memory long after her clean scent left the cab of his dirty old pickup truck. Completely against his nature, he waited in his truck drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, while Rebecca let herself in.
He watched as she disappeared into the house and he waited.
And waited.
As time stretched, his pulse thudded in his ears. No light.
“Come on, Rebecca.”
He angled his head and leaned closer to the windshield, as if that would make the light appear sooner. He glanced at the digital clock on the dash. Three minutes had passed.
Shaking his head, he pushed open the car door.
Something was wrong.
* * *
Rebecca unlocked the front door and stepped inside. She locked the door and placed the keys on the small shelf next to the door. The scent from last night’s fire in the woodstove still hung in the air. Growing up, the smell always had made her feel warm and cozy, the sign of an inviting home in the cold of winter. That had been a long time ago. Too much in her life had changed since the tranquil days of her childhood.
Back sore, she set her tote bag and umbrella down on the bench inside the door.
When she had met Professor Burke she hadn’t expected such a warm gentleman. Some of the Amish elders, although polite, had complained about the so-called professor meeting with their youth and filling their heads with worldly ideas.
However, Rebecca wasn’t sure. She thought the professor was truly interested in studying their way of life, not inserting himself into it. However, she couldn’t hide her disappointment that he couldn’t give her any new information about her son. She had hoped to find a way to reach Samuel because she had failed at all her attempts and Samuel only seemed to be growing more distant with time.
She took off her coat and hung it on a hook. Maybe it was the nature of being a young man on the cusp of making a pivotal decision in his life.
Oh, she wouldn’t be able to bear it if he left Apple Creek. She feared for his soul if he did.
A rattling sounded at the back of the house. Maybe it was Samuel. What if it wasn’t? A quiet yelp sounded in her throat and she almost called out to him when something made her pause.
Holding her breath, she walked through her home toward the kitchen. The floorboards creaked under her deliberate steps. The back door yawned open and a stiff wind sent it crashing against the wall.
A dark shadow bolted across the yard. Tingles of panic bit at her fingertips.
Someone had been in her house.
Rebecca slammed the back door shut and turned the key in the lock. How had they gotten in?
Her raspy breaths sounded in her ears. A pounding at the front door startled her. She spun around and stared, uncertain what to do. She was out here. Alone.
Slowly, she walked to the front door. Her mouth grew dry and a weight bore down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She reached the front door and flattened her hands on the cool wood.
“Who is it?” The words came out as a croak.
“It’s Jake. Are you okay?”
Relief washed over her. With a shaky hand, Rebecca grabbed the keys and opened the door. All her limbs went numb. Her lips couldn’t form any words.
“I got worried when you didn’t turn on a light.” The professor’s gaze swept across the sparsely furnished room cloaked in heavy shadows. Rebecca wondered if he saw something she hadn’t. Rockers sat in the middle of the room. A table with her knitting sat between the chairs. The familiar setting seemed foreign now.
An intruder had been in her home.
Rebecca crossed the room and turned the switch on the kerosene lamp, casting the room in a warm yellow glow. She couldn’t stop shaking. “Someone was in my house. They ran out the back door when I came in.”
The professor stepped back, the surprise evident on his face. “Are you sure they’re gone?”
Rebecca’s eyes drifted to the back of her house. “I s-s-saw s-s-someone running across the yard.” She clamped her jaw to get it to stop shaking.
“I need to check the house. Make sure no one else is here.”
Her stomach dropped to her boots. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She grabbed the arm of the rocker and lowered herself into it, suddenly feeling sick.
“Stay close to me while I check the house.” The professor held out his hand and she studied it a minute before rising to her feet and taking it. A knot of emotions trapped her words. “Do you have a flashlight?”
Nodding, she dropped his hand and led him to the kitchen. She grabbed the cool handle of the solid flashlight sitting on the counter and handed it to him.
Its beam made everything not in its path seem even darker. The professor must have sensed her discomfort. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “Yeah, the professor protecting an Amish woman.”
The professor moved toward the basement door. “Don’t underestimate me. Before I went back to college
for my PhD, I was an army ranger.”
“I suppose that makes you tough?” She had heard of the army, of course, but she didn’t know what a ranger was. The Amish were conscientious objectors and didn’t believe in fighting in wars.
The professor opened the basement door and cast the beam of light down the stairs. “Tougher than most.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Stay right here. I’m going to check the basement.”
After a few long, tense-filled minutes, he emerged from the basement. “No one’s down there. Let’s check upstairs.”
She nodded, nerves getting the best of her.
As she skulked behind the professor, afraid to walk through her own home, she could already hear the church elders tsk-tsking over a man who wasn’t her husband going upstairs. Surely they’d understand. If they ever found out. Right now, the elders weren’t her biggest concern. Someone hiding under her bed or lurking in a dark corner was.
Fear knotted her stomach. She’d never be able to sleep tonight.
The professor pointed his chin toward the door at the top of the stairs. “Is this your bedroom?”
She nodded and emitted an indecipherable sound that she hoped he took as yes. She lingered in the doorway as the professor made a sweep of the room. Empty. He did the same in the room Grace and Katie, her young daughters, shared. She was grateful she had left them with her brother, Mark, and his family for the night. They were only six and eight and Rebecca wanted to provide as much consistency for them after everything they had been through in their young lives.
The last upstairs bedroom was Samuel’s. He kept the door shut. He had been doing that for the past few months, ever since Elmer had died. Rebecca immediately felt traitorous for letting this stranger into her son’s room. A room her son didn’t even allow her access to.
The professor gave her a quick nod, his face heavily shadowed in the hallway. He turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Rebecca skirted around the professor and turned on the kerosene lamp on the bedside table. She sucked in a gasp. The room was a mess. The quilt she had personally made for Samuel was askew on the bed. Papers littered the floor.
“Samuel hasn’t allowed me in here for months.”
A battery-powered radio sat in the corner, and an assortment of silver disks littered the floor around it. She walked over to the closet and picked up a thin laptop and turned it over in her hands. She willed away her nausea as she met the professor’s gaze. “I had no idea he had this.” She held up the computer in her hand. Before her job at the diner, where people came in to work for hours on these things at some of the best tables near the windows, she wouldn’t have known what it was. “I have no idea how he’d afford a laptop. Why would he need this?”
The professor slowly strolled the perimeter of the room. Was he mentally cataloging her son’s belongings as if his room were an exhibit in a museum? Her mouth grew dry. Feelings of betrayal welled up again. Why had she allowed this man who made a living studying the Amish into her son’s bedroom?
“Please don’t use this in your research. This is my family’s private business.” She didn’t want to give the church elders reason to not allow her son into the preparation classes for baptism next summer.
Her heart filled with self-recrimination. She should have never brought an outsider into her life. Their lives.
The professor finally spoke. “You didn’t know he had all these things?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I didn’t want to know.” She lowered herself onto the corner of the bed. “It’s not uncommon for the youngie to explore worldly things. I hoped after his father, he would have been less likely to stray.”
“You suspected something was going on. That’s why you came to me.” She tried to read the question he wasn’t asking. Did he now suspect Samuel of dealing drugs? How else would he have earned the money for these things? Slowly blinking, Rebecca wished she hadn’t listened to her gut. Wasn’t she happier before she knew what her husband was really up to? The same could be said for her son.
What did she really know?
Rebecca smoothed her fingers along the edge of her cap and nodded. “I can’t lose him. I can’t. My daughters would be devastated.”
I would be devastated.
“Do you notice anything missing?”
Rebecca lifted her head and looked around. “In here? I wouldn’t know.”
“What about in the rest of the house?”
“I don’t think so. I have nothing of value.”
“Maybe they wanted something your son had.”
Rebecca’s gaze swept across the room, a room completely foreign to her.
The professor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I have to call the sheriff. Report a break-in.”
“You can’t.” Desperation made her chest tight.
“I don’t understand. Someone was in your house.” He stopped and turned to face her. “Do you know who it was?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Of course not.”
“I’m calling the sheriff.”
Rebecca watched as the professor dialed the number, then lifted the phone to his ear. She was helpless to stop him.
Rebecca had made a huge mistake.
* * *
Rebecca sat ramrod straight in the rocker across from the professor as they waited in the sitting room for the sheriff to arrive. She was kicking herself for approaching the professor. She should have kept everything in her family private.
Now look what they uncovered in Samuel’s bedroom.
And if she hadn’t wasted time going to the university, she wouldn’t have given the intruder an opportunity to break in.
Willard’s cruel, mocking voice scraped across her brain. Stupid, stupid woman.
Neh, neh, neh! She was not that woman anymore. She was strong. She had to be.
If you are so strong, why is Officer Maxwell on his way over here to nose into your business? The Amish are supposed to stay separate. In this world but not of this world. You’re going to screw things up and lose Samuel now. It wonders me how you’ll ever be respected by the Amish.
Rebecca squared her shoulders, trying to shake her husband’s mocking words free from her brain. She realized her argument was flawed. The intruder could have made his way into her home while she was there. Then what would have happened? She could have been hurt or worse.
The memory of the man advancing on her on campus flashed in her mind. Were these events related? Had graffiti and egg-throwing veered toward more dangerous personal attacks? Would the community never forgive her for Willard’s horrid acts?
If this even had to do with Willard.
Rebecca rubbed her temples, hoping her headache would ease. She dropped her hands and frowned. Better to cloak her growing fear in annoyance. Easier to cast the blame of her predicament onto the professor. However unfair.
Rebecca wasn’t in the mood to admit it, but calling the sheriff was the practical thing to do, even if unorthodox for the Amish.
Footsteps sounded on the porch, followed by a brisk rap at the door. She started to get up. The professor was faster.
Sheriff Maxwell looked past the professor toward her. “Everything okay out here, Rebecca?”
She sighed softly and shook her head. She and the sheriff weren’t strangers. He had been instrumental in making sure her husband was behind bars. Rightfully so, but his presence was a painful reminder of a part of her life she’d rather forget.
The sheriff’s gaze slid over to the professor and Rebecca felt foolish for ever believing a stranger in her life was a good idea. “You know Professor Burke.”
The sheriff opened his mouth but closed it again. Perhaps he was going to say something that had crossed Rebecca’s mind.
Why was he here?
Instead the sheriff held out his hand. “Hello, Jake. What’s going on here? You said Rebecca had a break-in?”
The professor nodded. “Rebecca returned home and saw someone running out the back door.”
&nb
sp; “Anything taken?” the sheriff asked.
“Not that I can see.” Rebecca ran her hands down the skirt of her long dress. The professor’s watchful gaze unnerved her.
“Where’s Samuel?” the sheriff asked, glancing around.
Rebecca’s eyes grew wide. “He’s not home.” She couldn’t help but bristle.
“Do you know where your son is?”
“It wasn’t Samuel, if that’s what you’re thinking. He wouldn’t have run away from me.” Did she know that for sure? Hadn’t he been moving away from her for months? She swallowed hard. “Samuel’s a young man. I don’t need to keep track of his every move.” Yet that’s exactly what she had hoped to do by contacting the professor.
The sheriff nodded, as if he were considering this. “If nothing has been taken, I’ll write up a report and keep an eye out for any suspicious people wandering around tonight. Make sure you keep your doors locked.”
Rebecca nodded again, feeling queasy. Many residents of Apple Creek had added locks to their doors after the tragic murder of her friend and neighbor. The locks had been useless in keeping the murderer out of her home. Rebecca had been married to him.
“There’s another thing, Sheriff,” the professor said.
Rebecca spun around and glared at him.
“Rebecca was almost attacked on campus. I’m afraid if I hadn’t come along when I had, she would have been hurt.”
She wanted to deny this, but...she couldn’t. Nervous tingles danced up her arms. In one fell swoop, she had brought two outsiders into her life: the professor and the sheriff. She closed her eyes briefly. If Samuel got wind of this, he’d distance himself further.
She’d lose him forever.
“What happened?” Sheriff Maxwell asked.
Rebecca explained the glass on the lamppost exploding above her head and the man advancing on her. Icy dread pumped through her veins as she finished the story.
“Do you think this is tied to the previous harassment?”