Plain Threats

by Alison Stone

  The sheriff nodded his head slowly, as if considering all this. “I’m sending a crew over to the farm to destroy the crops.”

  Rebecca nodded quickly, immediately regretting the motion as a new wave of pain crashed over her. “That’s what I was trying to do when I was attacked.”

  “You didn’t see your attacker?”

  “No.” She threaded her fingers together, unease tickling her throat.

  “Rebecca, I know you’ve had a tough time of it, but I want you to know that state forfeiture laws state that any property connected to a crime can be confiscated.”

  “Confiscated?” the professor asked, the alarm in his voice setting her nerves on edge.

  The sheriff cut a sidelong glance to the professor. “Yes, and if the drugs that led to Elmer’s crash can be traced back to illegal activity on your farm, you would also be liable. And there’s prison to consider.”

  If the sheriff had come here to scare her, he could consider his visit a colossal success. She moved to place one hand to her mouth, but the wires on her hand got caught on the side rail. A painful tug reminded her of her injuries, and she dropped her hand. The professor gently untangled the wires and placed her hand by her side. He grazed the skin on the back of her hand softly with the pad of his thumb before releasing her hand.

  Rebecca glanced up at the professor through a watery haze. She couldn’t talk for fear of having a total meltdown.

  “Can this wait until she’s feeling better?” the professor asked. “This is all news to Rebecca. She had no knowledge of the crops prior to yesterday.”

  The sheriff stepped toward the door. “I don’t want you to blindly protect Samuel. There’s a lot at stake here for you and your little girls.”

  A dull thud pulsed behind her eyes. “I am not blindly protecting anyone.” Did the sheriff think Samuel had planted the marijuana and tried to stop her this morning? Her mind flashed to the shadow bearing down on her. Samuel couldn’t have possibly—

  “I did it,” Samuel blurted from the doorway, where he must have been secretly listening to their conversation. “My mem had nothing to do with this. She didn’t even know about the crops until I told the professor last night. I’m the only one responsible.”

  With a trembling hand, Rebecca peeled back the white covers of her hospital bed. She swung her feet around and shook her head, refusing the professor’s assistance.

  Standing on shaky legs, Rebecca held out her arm to Samuel. “You need to forgive yourself.”

  Her son bowed his head and tapped the frame of the door with the tip of his boot. The image of the little boy she had first come to know haunted her memory. She loved him as her own. Her heart ached for him.

  She moved slowly across the cold hospital floor that seemed to tilt with each step. She was aware of the professor hovering next to her.

  “You need to forgive yourself for whatever you feel you did wrong when it came to your father,” she repeated. “Your dat was a bad man. Not you.”

  Samuel hung his head, unwilling to look her in the eyes.

  “You saved lives by helping law enforcement get him off the street.” She reached up to touch Samuel, but her arm dropped to her side. “Forgive yourself. Move on. Don’t try to ease your guilt by taking blame for the marijuana crops in some misguided attempt to protect me. It’s not going to solve anything.”

  Samuel sniffed and his shoulders shook.

  “I know you would never hurt me.” She touched the bandage on her head. “I know it wasn’t your idea to plant the marijuana on the farm.” She shook her head and immediately regretted it. “I know that’s not you. Elmer made his own bad choices. Not you. Forgive yourself.”

  Little footsteps sounded and Katie and Grace ran into the room, then hung back, as if sensing something intense was going on.

  “Son,” the sheriff finally spoke up, “are you confessing to growing the marijuana?”

  Her son’s eyes moved to his little sisters, then to his mem. Samuel nodded. “Yes, I’m responsible. My mem had nothing to do with it.”

  “Neh, Samuel. Stop this foolishness,” Rebecca pleaded.

  “I’m guilty.” Samuel stepped forward.

  The sheriff grabbed Samuel’s arm. “I’m going to have to take you down to the station.” The sheriff started rattling off something about a right to an attorney, but all Rebecca could focus on was the metal handcuffs binding Samuel’s wrists.

  The world suddenly grew very dark. Rebecca sensed the professor’s hand on her elbow as she backed up until the back of her legs connected with the bed. She planted a hand on the mattress to steady herself. “Don’t do this.”

  The sheriff glanced her way, a look of contrition in his eyes. “I’ll call Jake to let you know what’s going on. Okay?”

  When she didn’t answer—couldn’t answer—the sheriff added, “I’ll make sure he’s okay in lockup.”

  Rebecca heard soothing words from the professor but couldn’t make heads or tails of them. Didn’t the sheriff know that nothing would ever be okay again?

  NINE

  Jake swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and squinted up at the sun hanging low in the sky. A few days had passed since Samuel’s arrest and subsequent release on bail. The Fisher family had a lot on their minds. Fortunately, Rebecca had been released from the hospital. She dismissed the doctor’s orders to rest, insisting that farm life went on.

  With aching muscles, Jake maneuvered the wagon into place behind the barn with Samuel’s help. Then Samuel rode the tractor—without rubber on its tires—into the far corner of the barn. The two men had worked in relative silence most of the day, both in tune with the work at hand. Jake had done some gardening as a kid, but he had no idea he’d enjoy working the land so much.

  When Samuel emerged from the barn, he made a straight line for the house. Jake called out to him. “We need to talk.”

  Samuel kept walking.

  “You can’t ignore the situation. The Amish might like to keep the law separate, but you’re caught in the legal system now. It will not go away.”

  Samuel spun around and adjusted his straw hat low on his forehead to hide his eyes. “Who says I’m ignoring it? I promised you wouldn’t lose your bail money. I’ll be there on the court date.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Any idea when that will be?”

  “It hasn’t been set yet. The lawyer I hired will let us know.”

  Samuel slowly shook his head. “Why are you doing all this for us? It’s not your problem.”

  “I don’t think you’re guilty. I think you’re trying to protect your mother by taking the blame. Confessing to something you didn’t do is not going to help you or your mother. The right people need to be punished.”

  Samuel clenched his jaw.

  “Someone’s been threatening you and your mom.”

  “You think you’re so smart?” Samuel’s words came out clipped with frustration and anger. “If you’re so smart, you’d stay away from here, too. How do you think having an Englisher work the farm appears to our Amish neighbors?”

  “Your mother needed help. I’m helping you guys harvest the crops now that you’ve lost the farmhands.”

  The young man pressed his lips together and shook his head. He had obviously said his piece.

  Jake rolled his aching shoulders and decided to change the subject. “I haven’t had this much physical exertion since my army days.”

  Samuel’s expression softened. “You were in the army?”

  “Yes, I wanted to serve my country and it helped pay for college.”

  “Maybe I could follow that path and go to college. Tommy seems to think I couldn’t get a decent job without a college degree.”

  Jake studied the young man’s thoughtful expression. A criminal record would also prove limiting, but he decided not to go there. “Do you agree with the Amish stance on being a conscientious objector?”

  Samuel straightened his back and tried to take on an air of nonchalance, but
Jake saw through his false bravado.

  “I’m not baptized yet. I don’t have to follow the Amish rules.”

  “True, but going into the army would be difficult for someone like you.”

  “You think I’m weak.”

  “I didn’t say that. It’s not a decision to make lightly.”

  “If I go to jail, the decision will be made for me, right?” Samuel’s biting tone was at odds with the fear that flitted in the depths of his eyes. He shrugged and said, “I’m going to clean up before dinner.” He spun on his heels and marched toward the house.

  Jake stood and watched the young man until Rebecca caught his eye. She was walking across the field toward him, wisps of hair loose around the front of her head, like a halo glowing in the soft light from the setting sun. They had all put in a long day in the fields, riding the tractor with rudimentary equipment, harvesting the corn for feed. Rebecca had insisted on helping despite Jake’s protests that she rest. The Amish were apparently made of hearty stock.

  When she reached him, she smiled shyly. “You’re a natural.” She fingered the strings of her bonnet, then dropped her hand.

  “Maybe it’s in my blood.” Both his parents were Amish, after all.

  “I can’t thank you enough. Will you stay for dinner?”

  He scrunched up his face, realizing how hungry he was. He had been too busy to think about it earlier. “I would hate to intrude.”

  Rebecca waved her hand in dismissal.

  “When did you have time to make dinner?”

  “I made a shepherd’s pie from some leftovers in the icebox. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sounds great.”

  He followed Rebecca up the worn path to the house. She slowed before they reached the porch. “You were talking to Samuel. How does he seem? He hardly speaks to me.”

  Jake wanted to take her hands in his, to reassure her, but he resisted. “He’s sticking to the same story. I hope he changes it before the court date.”

  Rebecca lowered her eyes and nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for intervening on his behalf. If not for you, I fear he would have been overwhelmed by the English legal system.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “For an Amish woman, I’ve had my fair share of legal troubles.”

  This time Jake did reach out and touch her wrist briefly. “I’ll help you however I can.”

  “Denki.” The Pennsylvania Dutch word for thank you rolled off her pink lips.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  When they entered the kitchen, Grace and Katie had finished setting the table. Grace smiled up at him. “Oh, we’ll set another plate.” She stretched up and grabbed a white plate from the cabinet.

  Rebecca held out her hand. “You can wash up. The bathroom is at the back of the house.”

  After Jake washed his hands, he joined them at the long pine table. He had been invited to join an Amish family a time or two as part of his studies, but he had always felt as if the family was putting on a show for his benefit. Only when he joined Rebecca and her family did he feel comfortable.

  He looked over at Rebecca and she caught him watching her. Well, almost comfortable.

  Samuel sat across the table from him. An aura of teenage angst rolled off him. Jake supposed he had gotten all he was going to get from the young man today.

  Samuel put his hands in his lap and they all followed suit. They bowed their heads in silent prayer. Samuel was the first to raise his head and pick up his fork, signaling it was time to eat.

  “How was school today, girls?” Rebecca asked.

  Grace smiled. “We got to play outside at recess. The teacher thinks we might not have many nice days left before it snows.”

  Her mother laughed. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Our teacher Miss Marian is getting married.”

  Rebecca caught the professor smiling.

  “I suppose some things are universal. Kids love recess and their teachers,” Jake said.

  Rebecca took a scoop of potatoes with her fork and stopped midway to her mouth. “Girls, did you know Professor Burke is a teacher?”

  They both looked at him without saying anything.

  “He doesn’t teach little kids. He teaches big people in college.”

  “Amy’s older brother left home and went to college. He’s now under the Bann,” Katie said, her tone ominous, as if at her tender age she already understood the full repercussions of being shunned.

  Jake fidgeted with the knife, pushing it under the edge of his plate. Shunning was losing popularity in a number of Amish communities, but some Amish parents still felt it was the only way to encourage baptized members to return to the fold. Some parents used it to encourage their child to be baptized.

  Tough love.

  Katie swallowed a mouthful of food and asked, “Is being a professor bad?”

  Rebecca laughed nervously. “No, it’s just something Amish people wouldn’t do. We only are allowed an eighth grade education.”

  “Why?” Grace asked.

  “Because that’s all we really need. You’ll learn everything necessary to be a good wife and mem at the Amish schoolhouse.”

  “They want to make sure they can keep us close,” Samuel bit out. “They want us to have no choice but to stay.” He tossed down his fork and pushed back his chair. The legs scraped against the wooden floor, making a sharp squeal.

  Rebecca slowly closed her eyes, as if gathering strength. Samuel stomped up the stairs. The young girls stared after their brother with shocked expressions.

  “Girls,” Rebecca said, “your brother has been rude and I will deal with him later.” She paused, perhaps to quell the shakiness in her voice. “Anyway, the Amish school will teach you everything you need to know.” Rebecca watched her daughters with a look of hope and sadness in her eyes. Jake knew how important it was that her daughters stayed in the Amish community, especially with her eldest pushing all the boundaries.

  “What if I decide I want to be really smart like the professor? Will you stop talking to me?” Katie said with a hint of what the future teenage Katie might be like.

  Rebecca’s jaw tightened and she blinked slowly. “My wish for you is that you grow up to love being in Apple Creek as much as I do.”

  “When Miss Hannah married Sheriff Maxwell, she moved to a house in Apple Creek, but she’s not Amish anymore. If you marry Professor Burke, can we get a house near them? We could play with Emma and Sarah every day after school.”

  Rebecca picked up her fork and stabbed at her mashed potatoes. “Girls, eat before your food gets cold.”

  * * *

  Rebecca washed the last plate and handed it to the professor to dry. He placed it in the cabinet and hung the damp dishtowel on the hook.

  Rebecca turned around and leaned back, curving her hands around the edge of the counter. “My husband never helped with chores inside the house.” She lifted a shoulder to shrug. “I suppose most Amish men know their place is on the farm.” She lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling flushed. “Or more and more nowadays at the factory or building swing sets down the road. Things are changing fast.” She didn’t say more because Willard’s nasty words rang in her head. That had been his battle cry. Things were changing too much. We had to hold on to the old ways.

  The Amish must remain separate.

  Her stomach ached. She hated that she agreed with her husband’s general premise, yet she’d never resort to Willard’s extremes.

  The professor smiled and Rebecca worked her lower lip. Her growing feelings of affection were getting difficult to ignore.

  “I suppose I should go.” He apparently sensed her unease.

  “Maybe—” she couldn’t believe she was about to say this “—we could sit and talk on the porch for a bit?” Oh, what was she doing? What kind of example was she setting for her daughters? She should escort the professor out the door to go home for the night.

  The professor held out his hand. “After you.”

  She was lonely and lon
ged for adult companionship. The nights were too long with all her racing thoughts about Samuel’s future.

  Her future.

  As Rebecca and the professor passed through the house, she called up the stairs. “Girls, I’ll be on the front porch. Get changed and you can read a bit before bed.”

  Footsteps scampered overhead and she heard the bathroom door slam shut. No doubt Katie had beaten Grace to the bathroom. She smiled at the ordinariness of everyday life. What she wouldn’t do to have all of life be that simple.

  Rebecca stepped onto the porch and sat in the rocker. A warm fall breeze swept across her skin and with it the scent of dried hay and freshly harvested crops.

  The professor lowered himself into the chair next to hers and sighed contentedly. “I could get used to this.”

  Rebecca laughed. “The path not chosen.”

  “At the time, it wasn’t for me to choose. My parents left their Amish community and eloped.”

  “Were they happy?”

  The professor settled back in his chair and made an indistinguishable sound in the back of his throat. “I imagine they were happy in the beginning. They were young and free of all the rules of the Ordnung for the first time in their lives. They were together.”

  Rebecca stared over the farm. The bright moon cast the land in a warm glow. A deep but good tired settled around her. Momentary peace, compliments of the man sitting next to her. A man who was completely wrong for her.

  She shook away the thought. She could never get together with an Englisher. It would go against everything she believed in. Every reason she had worked so hard to bring Samuel back into the fold.

  She’d be a hypocrite.

  A wistfulness in the professor’s tone made her pause. Made her realize something. “Did something happen to make your parents regret their decision to leave the Amish community?”

  “I never said...” He shook his head and laughed. “I guess I didn’t have to say as much.” He sighed heavily. “My father was frustrated because he could never get a decent job. He was stuck working minimum-wage jobs because he—”

  “Only had an eighth grade education,” Rebecca finished for him, realization dawning. “We talked about that over dinner.”