by Marta Perry
He studied Joanna’s face, wondering what else was behind that statement. It would have been more natural for her to stay with her mamm, surely. Especially when she was so obviously concerned.
But she didn’t offer anything more, and he didn’t think a question on that subject would be welcome.
Etta bustled up to them and wrapped a heavy sweater around Joanna over the one she had on. Etta’s sweater was big enough to fit around Joanna’s slim figure at least twice, and Etta laughed, good-natured about her size. “Good thing I’m as big as I am. You need the extra warmth. And don’t you think about sleeping in your apartment tonight. There’s a bed for you at our place, so you just come over when you’re ready.”
Joanna managed a smile with some words of thanks, but she was obviously becoming restless, moving from one foot to the other.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I think I hear them coming now.”
Sure enough, the two officers came around the building. Jamison appeared to be giving instructions to the younger man, who nodded and hurried off to the car, reappearing a moment later with a camera. He went back around the building carrying it, and Jamison came to them.
“They got into both places, I’m afraid.”
Noah nodded. It was what he’d expected. “They?”
“No way to know at this point if it was more than one, but vandals usually run in packs. Whichever, at least there wasn’t much damage, so you don’t need to worry about that.” He turned to Joanna. “Let’s go into your place first while Donovan takes some photos in the hardware store.”
Noah decided to interpret that invitation to include him, and he stayed behind Joanna as she unlocked the front door of the shop. She hesitated for a moment, and he moved a little closer. They stepped into the darkness together.
Jamison flashed his torch around, holding it on the light fixture while Noah pumped it and turned it on. Joanna seemed to hold her breath while she looked around. To his eyes, the shop’s contents were disturbed, but not damaged. Various drawers had been pulled open, and one lay on the floor. Some bolts of fabric had fallen from the tables, but they didn’t even look dirty, much less ruined by paint.
Joanna surveyed it all and seemed more relieved than anything. Probably, like him, she’d feared to find open vandalism. Vandals had hit the Eschs’ harness shop two years earlier, leaving machines damaged, leather slashed and hateful messages painted on the walls. They’d all seen it, and he supposed most Amish would have trouble getting that vision out of their heads.
Chief Jamison had caught up with the vandals, though—boys in their late teens from a suburban area near the closest large town. As far as he knew, they were in a detention facility now.
Joanna had moved behind the counter. She reached toward the cash box, but Jamison put out a hand to prevent her. “Don’t touch it just yet. I’d like a couple of photos as it is. Do you know how much cash was in there?”
“Aunt Jessie left after I did, but she’d have put in what we always do to start the day—about three hundred in different denominations.”
“I’ll need to talk to her, but tomorrow will do. Any other cash around?”
She nodded. “There’s more cash in a locked box in Aunt Jessie’s bedroom. Did they get in there?”
“Looks like they just went through the apartment to come down the stairs into the shop.” He gestured toward the staircase that led to the second floor. “I had a quick look upstairs, but nothing looked out of place.”
Joanna winced, and Noah could feel her concern about her home. Anyone would be upset about the idea of strangers in their home. He thought about the farmhouse that had been home since he was born, and his stomach turned at the idea.
“Maybe Joanna should have a look upstairs, just to be sure.”
Jamison studied Joanna’s face. It looked as if he thought she might not be up to it. Noah felt sure he was wrong. Joanna was a strong woman. She’d be upset, but she’d do what she had to do.
Still, he sensed something else, something behind the surface anxiety about the shop, and he wondered.
Jamison considered for a moment. “I want Joanna to check the back room first, just to be sure nothing’s missing. Why don’t you head over to your place and talk to the patrolman about what’s missing?”
He’d rather stay here in case Joanna needed him, but that would draw attention to feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge. So he gave Joanna a look of silent sympathy and left.
* * *
IT SEEMED TO take forever for the police to finish up what they were doing, and Joanna felt herself begin to sag. Not surprising, was it? The past few hours had been the most stressful of her life. First, the knowledge that she wasn’t who she’d thought she was, and then the invasion of her home and business—the foundations of her world rocked beneath her.
She was Amish, even if her birth parents hadn’t been, even if Mamm and Daadi weren’t blood kind. To be Amish meant knowing who you were and what your place was in the world. It meant a life bounded by the church, the home and the family. To have two of the three attacked in one evening was unthinkable, and yet she had to think about it. She had to cope.
With Jamison accompanying her, she’d checked the back room,
Where the situation was the same as the store itself—disturbed but not vandalized. Again, drawers had been pulled out and boxes opened, but nothing seemed to be missing.
A quick look upstairs hadn’t revealed any problems, but Jamison hadn’t let her check more closely, saying he needed photographs first.
Suggesting she wait down in the back room, the chief directed his patrolman’s photography. The room was quiet, but hardly restful. She was torn between exhaustion and a nervous energy that needed an outlet.
Hearing noises on the back stairs, she went to see who was coming now. If it was more police...
But it was Noah, carrying a toolbox and coming toward her. “I thought I’d best board up the doors for the night. The chief says it’s all right to do it now. Okay if I do both doors at the back? Then we can go out through the front.”
“Yah, that’s gut. Denke, Noah. I hadn’t even thought about that yet. I don’t know where my wits have gone.”
“It’s been a shock.” His voice went deep with sympathy. “I’m feeling a bit ferhoodled myself, and I didn’t walk in and find the break-in.”
If that was all she had to stress her, she’d consider herself fortunate, but Noah didn’t know. She tried to smile with a little success. “Can I help you with the doors?”
“Ya, gut. You can hold the boards in place while I hammer. Let’s do the outside door first.”
They both knew he’d be able to do it alone. He probably thought keeping her busy was for the best. Well, he was right. She followed him to the doors.
Noah had left several boards on the bottom steps. He put one in place near the top of the door, and she placed her hands on it to hold it stationary. She and Noah were so close in the confined space that she could hear his breath and almost feel the tightening of his muscles as he lifted the hammer.
The first blow made her wince, and she had to steady herself. She couldn’t let what had happened make her jump at every sound.
“Was the cash Jessie had still there?”
His question reminded her that he’d been in the hardware store while she’d accompanied Chief Jamison upstairs.
“Yah. The change that had been out in the open in a jar on the kitchen counter was gone, but they didn’t appear to have looked under the bed.”
He chuckled. “Jessie will be relieved by that. I’d guess they were intent on the shop receipts and didn’t bother much with the apartment.”
“Thank the gut Lord for that blessing. I’d hate to think of some stranger going through my clothes.”
“I don’t suppose Amish clothing would be much use to him.”
To J
oanna’s surprise, she actually smiled at the thought. It seemed Noah had been right. Staying busy was better than sitting and thinking.
With the first board finished, Noah picked up another. “Two should be enough, I think. Doesn’t seem likely they’d come back, but you don’t want the door hanging open for anyone to see.” He darted a glance at her, and she could read concern there even in the dim light that came down the stairs. “You’re going to Etta’s for the night, yah? Or if you want to go home, I expect the chief would take you.”
“No, not back to the farm,” she said quickly. “Mamm isn’t feeling well, and I don’t want to disturb her by coming back. She’d be sure to wake at someone coming in this late.” And she might start the crying that had ripped at Joanna’s heart.
Noah put in a final nail to keep the door closed, and then he followed her to the top of the stairs. Stepping into the hallway, he closed the door, taking a closer look at the broken lock.
Joanna ran her fingers down the scraped wood frame. “I think we’ll be able to smooth this down and repaint it.” It had been easy, she thought. Easy for someone to open the door and come right into her home.
“I’d say so.” Noah was already fitting a piece of wood in place. “You can see where he put something like a pry bar in and just popped it open. You ought to have a chain or a dead bolt on the doors. I’ll take care of it for you.”
“Denke, Noah.” That reminded her of Daad’s reaction. “Daad wants to pay for the lights, as I told you, and I’m sure for the extra locks, too. He says since he’s our landlord, you must let him do that.”
“He needn’t, but I won’t say no. Sales are scarce enough right now.”
For just an instant, Joanna caught a despairing look in his eyes that shook her. Was he really in such a bad place financially? She wanted to express her caring but feared offending him. How complicated it could be to say the right thing.
It struck her that in her concern she was completely distracted from her own problems for a moment. Maybe there were benefits in each direction to sharing one another’s burdens.
Those thoughts raced through her mind and she knew she had to respond in some way, even if she risked offending him.
“I’m sorry.” Maybe the simplest thing was the best. “I didn’t realize the new store was hurting your business so badly.”
He nodded, for once letting his face show his feeling. “We’ve been counting on the store to pay off the loans Daad took on the farm.”
Joanna realized he was telling her something that few people in the community knew. She was incredibly touched to know he considered her a friend. And honored that he trusted her enough to tell her. “I didn’t realize the farm was so deeply mortgaged,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. Your father...”
“My father.” He seemed to thrust the words away from him. “When he was drinking, he couldn’t think beyond the next bottle.”
The suppressed anger in his voice hurt her. However much her own father had let her down by not telling the truth about her parentage, she’d never felt anything like what Noah and his brothers must have experienced.
“I didn’t realize.” She put her hand lightly on his. “I’m so sorry.”
His jaw tightened. “Now you know why every Amish father looks at me with wariness. They don’t want to consider linking themselves with such a tainted family.” He spit out the words as if they tasted bad.
“You mustn’t believe that about yourself.” Her fingers tightened on his. “You aren’t anything like your father. No one could believe that about you.”
His hand turned so that he could clasp hers. He squeezed it for a moment, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Yah, they could. Why not? I do.”
The words ripped into her heart, and she couldn’t hold back her sympathy. “Noah, you can’t think that. You’re a fine person—responsible, hardworking and kind. Don’t let what your father was make you think so little of yourself.”
Noah detached her hand, stepping back as if he needed to create space between them. “You don’t understand.” He didn’t say it resentfully, but as if it was an obvious fact. “You’ve always been the bishop’s daughter. And I’ve always been the drunkard’s son.”
She tried to protest, but at his bleak, pained look, the words died in her throat. He was suddenly someone she didn’t even know.
“You don’t know what I might be capable of.” The words seemed forced out of him. “Neither do I. But every day I’m afraid of turning into him. Afraid of being a man who could hurt the ones who love him most.”
She was in over her head—lost in a tangle of sympathy and caring and feeling completely unable to do anything to counter the hard truths he threw at her. If there were any right words, she couldn’t find them. She stood there mute and angry with herself for her inability to help him. And what was worse, he knew it.
“Go and get what you need for the night.” He turned back to the door. “I’ll finish this and walk you over to Etta’s place.”
When she stood paralyzed for a moment, he threw the word over his shoulder at her. “Go.”
Joanna fled to her bedroom, standing in her familiar surroundings unable to move except to twist her hands together. She’d thought she was so capable, so mature and able to cope with anything that came her way.
She’d been wrong—hopelessly and childishly wrong. She’d have thrown herself on the bed and let the tears come, but if she did, Noah would come looking for her.
Moving nervously, she grabbed a bag and began tossing into it anything she needed for the night. She wrenched open the top drawer of her dresser and froze, as shocked as if she’d discovered a snake among her clothing.
She took a step back. “Noah?” Her voice shook a little. “Will you come here, please?”
His footsteps sounded on the floorboards, and then she sensed him behind her, in the doorway. “What is it?”
“This drawer. We thought the intruder hadn’t touched anything up here. But he did. He went through the contents of this drawer.”
Noah didn’t question her statement. He came forward, looking over her shoulder into the drawer.
“Everything is moved around. It’s neat enough, but he didn’t bother putting them back the way they were.” She shivered. “It’s as if he wanted me to know he’d been here.”
“Check the other drawers in this room,” Noah said. “I’ll take a closer look into any other drawers or cabinets in the apartment and see if anything seems odd.”
By the time she’d checked every drawer and shelf in her room, Joanna’s hands had stopped shaking, and her mind had started to work again. Noah came back, shaking his head.
“Nothing obviously wrong, but you’ll have to look and see if anything is missing. What could they have been looking for? Money? But they didn’t touch the cash box.”
“No. Not money.” She held out her hand, letting the small gold heart dangle from her fingers. “I’m afraid they were looking for this.” She turned and walked abruptly out into the kitchen.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALL NOAH COULD do was to stare at the tiny gold heart swinging from Joanna’s hand. A pretty thing, he guessed, but not something any Amish person would wear.
Maybe he was still reeling from the backlash of blurting out things he never talked about, but his mind couldn’t seem to make any connection between the shiny object and the break-in. He looked around the tidy kitchen, trying to ground himself in reality.
“I don’t understand. What is that? And why would someone be looking for it here?”
“It’s a necklace for a baby or a small child.” She measured out the length of the golden links.
He nodded. “Yah, I see that, but whose is it?”
“Apparently, it’s mine.” Joanna seemed to sway, reaching out to hold on to the back of the kitchen chair.
Her obvious distress
broke through his bewilderment, and he hurried to guide her to sit down at the kitchen table. He stood over her, feeling helpless.
“Can I get you something? Some hot tea, maybe?”
She shook her head and then pressed her fingers against her forehead. “I’m all right. Too much has been happening, I fear. I shouldn’t burden you with my troubles.”
The way I burdened you with mine? Noah pulled a chair over close to her and sat down.
“Both our troubles, ain’t so? The intruder broke into my store, too. I should know.”
She rubbed her forehead again as if her head pounded with pain. “Tonight...before I came back and found the break-in...I was at the farm. Daad told me the real story about my adoption.”
Joanna broke off, but his mind must be working again, because he began to see. “This is because of the DNA testing, yah?”
“Aunt Jessie told Daad what was happening. About the woman in the hospital maybe being related to me, and Daad decided I should be told the full story of where I came from. I wasn’t the child of some distant relative. I was an Englisch baby, abandoned at their door.”
Noah grappled with that, trying to piece it together. “So the necklace was something that belonged to you?”
“It was in the basket where they found me. Mamm had kept it, thinking one day I might want it.”
“So you were Englisch.” He tried to wrap his mind around it. “I can’t see that it matters. The police must have tried to find out who your birth mother was before they could adopt you.”
“They...” She stopped. When she started again, he felt sure she’d changed her mind about what she was going to say. “Yah, I suppose...” She stopped again, not seeming to notice that her hands, clasped on the table, writhed together as if struggling.
“Joanna.” Without letting himself take time to think about it, he put his hand over hers, holding them firmly. “Tell me all the things you’re leaving out so I can help.”