by Debby Giusti
She nodded. “They were exhausted after working with you today.”
“I appreciated their help.”
“And the questions?” Her eyes almost twinkled in the lamplight. “The boys are much too inquisitive.”
His heart warmed as he thought of their nonstop chatter this afternoon. “Curious minds are quick to learn. They both take after their mother in that regard.”
She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Are you saying I was talkative in my youth?”
He laughed. “I’m referring to intelligence, Ruthie. You’re a smart woman.”
“A smart woman should be able to manage this farm better than I am currently doing.”
“Your husband and father haven’t been gone long.” He looked expectantly at her.
“Two months.” She let out a shallow sigh. “In some ways it seems like only yesterday, yet when I look around the farm, I feel it has been neglected for years.”
“Any sign of the guy from last night?” he asked.
“Everything has been quiet.”
“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder at the rocky terrain. “I’ll search around the outbuildings and ensure nothing is amiss in the barn.”
She motioned toward the living area. “If you would like to come inside for a cup of coffee afterward—”
He held up his hand. “I’ll take a rain check.”
“Then good night, and thank you.”
Standing on the porch as she closed the door, Noah felt a weight settle on his shoulders. Everything within him begged to accept her offer. He wanted to learn who Ruthie Eicher was. He had known Ruthie Plank, but ten years was a long time. He had changed. No doubt, she had, as well.
With a deep sigh, he left the porch and searched the barn. The wood shop and other outbuildings were locked. He glanced over the pastures and the hillside, then walked back across the bridge and climbed into his pickup. For a long moment, he stared at Ruthie’s house.
His father, in one of his drunken stupors, had mocked Noah, calling him a protector who wanted to keep everyone safe. The irony cut Noah to the quick after what had happened to Seth, his wife, Jeanine, and their adorable daughter, Mary.
Seth had never been happier than when he and Noah had worked on the dam near Chattanooga. After carefully saving enough money, Seth and Jeanine had placed a down payment on their starter home and had invited Noah to dinner that first night in the new house to share in their joy. The pride Noah had felt in his little brother had made his heart nearly burst.
Two weeks later, the dam gave way, and a wall of water washed over the housing area as the family slept.
Noah had worked on the dam. He had gotten Seth a job there and had told him about the new houses being built and the low-interest loans for people employed by the construction company.
If Noah hadn’t been so helpful, Seth and his family would still be alive.
He started the engine and turned the truck around. Noah had come home to sell his father’s property. The real-estate agent had a buyer. Tomorrow in town, he would see if the papers had been drawn up. Noah needed to move on with his life. There was nothing except memories on Amish Mountain.
Then he thought of Ruthie and Simon and little Andrew. His heart softened, yet he needed to be realistic. Although he had left the Amish faith before baptism, Noah had lived life as an Englischer for the past ten years. Amish and Englisch didn’t mix, at least not when romantic relationships were concerned. There could be no going back to what they’d had so long ago.
Plus, he didn’t deserve happiness or love or a family, and had to make certain he didn’t get involved. Bottom line—the sooner he left the mountain, the better.
* * *
Ruthie extinguished the oil lamp and moved to the window. In the moonlight, she watched Noah walk over the bridge, climb into his truck and sit there for a long moment. Was he thinking of her or their son?
She had said too much about their circumstances. She did not want Noah to know they were hanging on by a thread. A very thin thread. Surely he would wonder about the Amish community and why they were not reaching out to the widow Eicher.
Truth be told, she had rejected their help. The shame of Ben’s gambling and subsequent shunning pained her to the core, even after all this time, and the memory of his outrage during Sunday service haunted her still. Ben had called the bishop and elders hypocrites and stormed out. Ruthie had gathered the boys and followed him, holding her head high. All the while, her face had burned with shame.
Her father had always said a wife’s place was beside her husband. If Ben was shunned, then she felt shunned, as well. Even after his death, she had not been able to embrace the community or accept their outreach.
After his shunning, Ben had gone to town once a month to gamble, collect the mail at the post office and buy supplies with whatever money was left after his poker games. She and the boys had remained at home to handle the chores. All too often, she had prayed her husband would not return. Gott forgive her for such thoughts.
Ben always returned in a foul mood, as if he had been forced home to a wife he did not love and an elder son he knew was not his own. At times, she wondered why he had married her. Was it for her father’s farm or had he believed love could grow between them? After Simon’s birth, Ben claimed the baby was the problem, but she knew the problem was Ben, who usually thought only of himself.
Ruthie turned from the window, carried her cup to the sink, washed it and placed it in the cupboard, her thoughts moving back to Noah and the way he had brought joy to her life when they were young. They had played together as children, and with time that friendship had grown into something more. Ruthie had been too free with her love, which she regretted, yet she never regretted the wonderful child who had come from their youthful tryst.
Footsteps sounded on the porch. Her heart fluttered. Noah had come back to see her.
Not waiting for his knock, she threw open the door.
“Oh, Noah, I am glad—”
Her heart lurched. The man with the stocking over his head was not Noah. Before she could slam the door, he pushed his way into the house. She gasped.
“What are you waiting for?” He leaned into her face. “Time is running out.”
She squared her shoulders and steadied her voice. “What are you talking about?”
“Move off the mountain. No one wants you here.”
“That is not true.”
His eyes widened. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“I am calling you a fool to think you can frighten me.”
“I’ll make life miserable for you and your children.”
He raised his hand as if to strike her. She grabbed his arm, and his shirtsleeve raised, revealing tattoos that covered his skin.
His face contorted, and he pushed her away with such force that she tumbled to the floor, landing on her hip. Pain ricocheted up her spine.
She struggled to her feet, knowing she had to be strong to protect her boys.
“Get out of here.” She pointed to the door. “Leave me alone.”
“I told you what will happen if you don’t get off Amish Mountain.”
Seething with anger, he stepped closer. “Don’t make a tragic mistake if you want your boys to live.”
He shoved her hard against a table and ran outside.
Ruthie stumbled and fell to her knees, overcome with a mix of confusion and fear.
Once again, footsteps sounded on the porch.
Her heart pounded. He was coming back.
She grabbed the edge of the table and tried to stand. She had to keep him from harming Simon and Andrew.
His footfalls drew closer.
She screamed.
Arms surrounded her. “Ruthie!”
Gasping, she collapsed into Noah’s arms.
“He—he came back.
He said he would...kill my boys. Help me, Noah. Help me save my boys.”
FOUR
Noah held Ruthie close until she calmed. Having her in his arms tugged on his heart. So many memories flooded over him and reminded him how dearly he had loved Ruthie once upon a time. Now someone was doing her harm.
“Why is this man coming after you?” he asked once she moved out of his embrace.
She shook her head and cast her eyes down. “It is difficult to discuss.”
“You mentioned coffee earlier,” he suggested, hoping to ease her tension. “A cup would be good for both of us.”
“Yah, you are right. I brewed a pot early and kept it on the stove so it will still be hot.” She led the way into the kitchen and poured the coffee. After opening a cabinet drawer, she lifted out a large manila envelope, carried it to the table along with the filled cups and sat across from Noah.
“I do not want you to think badly about my husband, but it is necessary to tell you some things so you understand what is happening.” She stared at the envelope and then glanced up at Noah.
“Perhaps you have already heard talk in town?” she asked.
“I didn’t talk to anyone about you, Ruthie. I thought your father was still alive and that you and your husband lived elsewhere.”
“If you had asked, you would have heard that my husband liked to gamble.”
Noah saw the pain on her face.
“What started as an occasional problem grew worse with time,” she admitted.
Noah took her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“The hardest part was his disregard for the boys, especially Simon. Not that Ben was a better father to Andrew.”
“He knew you were pregnant when you married?”
She nodded and pulled back her hand. “I was truthful. He said it did not matter that I was in the family way, but it did matter. Evidently more than either of us realized.”
Her words cut into Noah. The thought of Simon being raised by a man who didn’t love him was almost too much to bear. Noah carried the guilt for the deaths of his brother’s family. To learn that he was also responsible for a child who had been slighted by his stepfather weighed him down even more.
“What about the church district?” he asked. “Did the bishop not offer counsel?”
“Ben did not accept criticism or advice, even from the bishop. When Andrew was a baby, my husband caused a disruption during Sunday services while the bishop was speaking. Ben called him a hypocrite and said all the elders were ungodly men who preached lies.”
“Oh, Ruthie, how that must have hurt you.”
She wrung her hands. “Ben said he wanted nothing more to do with the church. Because of his gambling and his disregard for the bishop’s counsel, he was removed from the faith, just as he wanted.”
“You mean Bann and Meidung?”
“Yah. He was excommunicated and shunned.”
“But you weren’t. Surely the bishop would not hold what your husband did against you.”
“I was Ben’s wife. If he was cut off from the community, I was, too.”
“You could have asked for help.”
She glanced at him, her eyes revealing the shame she must have felt for all these years.
“As you know, Noah, we live on the mountain, far from town. What do the Englisch say? Out of sight, out of mind.”
He nodded. The townspeople had not made an effort to help Ruthie because of her husband.
“Although to be honest, a few people checked on me after the incident in church. Following Ben’s death, they reached out to me again, but I was still too shamed by my husband’s actions as well as his shunning and refused their help.”
“How does all this have bearing on what’s happening now?” he asked.
She glanced again at the envelope. “Ben would go to town once a month to get the mail and to gamble.”
Her voice was little more than a whisper. “The last time he went to town, my father went with him. My datt’s health was bad. He had grown so frail. I asked Ben to take him to the medical clinic for an exam, which I am certain interfered with Ben’s gambling. On the way home, he raced through an intersection and never saw the approaching car that had the right of way.”
“They both died in the collision.”
Ruthie nodded. “Comforting the boys was hard. They did not understand how Gott could take both their father and their grandfather. Some people said it was Gott’s will, but that is difficult for children to comprehend.”
She paused for a moment and then added, “It was difficult for me to accept, as well.”
“You’ve been through so much, Ruthie.”
“It is life, yah? We are given both the good and the bad. How we act in those difficult situations can either build strength or tear us down. I am determined to remain strong.”
“You have always been strong and faithful to the Lord. You’re showing the boys how a gut person lives, and they learn well from your example.”
“I fear they are now learning how a hateful man can ruin a family’s peace and well-being.” She withdrew a piece of paper from the envelope, unfolded it and placed it on the table.
Pointing to the paper, she said, “This is what I found under my door two weeks ago. It states that I need to leave the farm.”
Noah read what appeared to be a hastily scribbled note written in green ink. “Do you recognize the handwriting or the color of the ink?”
She shook her head. “Several days ago another note was slipped under my door.”
Withdrawing the second slip of paper from the envelope, she sighed. “This one is also written in green ink and says I would be sorry if I did not leave within forty-eight hours.”
Noah looked at the date on the second letter. “And the fire occurred last night as the deadline lapsed?”
She nodded. “I did not realize he would be so hateful. I fear evil has taken over his heart.”
Noah tried to think why this property would be so important.
Ruthie folded the papers and returned them to the envelope. “The man talks about hurting my children. That is what frightens me.”
“We need to tell the sheriff.”
“And what will he do? Willkommen is far from the mountain. My children and I live here alone. I have no phone to call for help.”
“Cell reception is almost impossible on the mountain, Ruthie. I’ve had trouble trying to make calls since I returned home, but if you need to contact anyone, you can try my phone.”
“I cannot rely on you, Noah. You are here now, but you will leave as soon as your father’s land is sold. I do not blame you. As you said, why would anyone want to live on Amish Mountain? It is true, but it is the only thing I have to call my own, other than my wonderful sons. I want to pass this farm on to them. Without the land, how would I grow food or raise chickens and have eggs? There is so much work to do with a farm, but I want to raise my children on this mountain.”
As much as Noah admired Ruthie’s determination, he knew she would be an easy target for the man who had come after her. Noah needed to talk her out of staying, but since he hadn’t been able to convince Ruthie to leave years ago, he doubted he could convince her to leave now.
Perhaps there had been more to her staying back then than just caring for her father. The Amish felt a kinship with the land. It provided their livelihood, their food, their ability to sustain life.
In his youth, Noah hadn’t been aware of Ruthie’s love of the land. Now that he had nothing of his own and no one to hold on to, he could understand her desire to remain on the farm that had belonged to her family for generations.
He thought of his own guilt in his brother’s tragic death. Noah had no right to find comfort in his childhood home and surrounding property. He would sell it all and continue to wander from job to job, even if a portion of his heart rem
ained on the mountain, as it had so long ago.
* * *
Ruthie could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she envisioned the man with the distorted face and the tattooed arm. Discouraged and upset, she rose from bed and walked to the window. A light from Noah’s house glowed in the darkness. Perhaps he, too, was trying to make sense of her tangled life.
She had not wanted to tell Noah about her husband. The mistake of marrying Ben had been her own to make. She did not need pity, or for Noah to feel responsible for the struggles she had endured. Life had to be accepted, no matter how difficult. Ben often told her if she was a better wife, he would have been a better husband. Not that she understood his logic. Whenever he spoke such nonsense, she would busy herself with cooking or cleaning and steel her heart to his criticism. Her father had never offered praise and his words had been caustic at times, but Ben’s belligerence was different, and no matter how hard she tried to shrug off his comments, they troubled her spirit and sapped the joy from her life.
What hurt her even more is that she had tried to be a dutiful wife, but Ben’s verbal attacks on her worth as a person, as well as a wife, took a toll until her heart had hardened.
If she had her boys, she had everything she needed. Keeping the farm was for their future, so she could provide something other than the memory of their childhood with a father who did not know how to love.
She stared again at the light in the distance. Once upon a time, she had been in love. She loved her children, but she would never be able to love a man again. No matter how much she remembered the past and what Noah had meant to her then.
Ten years was a lifetime. She had changed, not necessarily for the better. She accepted her life as it was and did not need to run from the pain. Joy had been part of her distant past, before Noah left the mountain, but it would not be part of her future.
FIVE
Noah had breakfast ready by the time Ruthie came downstairs the next morning. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her when she stepped into the kitchen.