A Shining Light (23 page)

The distance to the farm that had been owned by Andrea's
father was not overly far. When they first arrived, Andrea and Lukas had walked from the farm with Brother Bosch. However, Fred had taken a path that wound them away from the farm before turning back in the right direction. They had likely walked two miles and still were a distance from the farm. Had Fred chosen that path because he didn't want anyone to know he was going to the farm? Trying to figure out this man made my head ache.

“Did your papa want to show you something at the farm?”

Lukas continued to snip around the angel's skirt. “Nein. He said we were going there to find something, but he didn't tell me what it was. I think it's a surprise. Maybe that's why he wanted it to be a secret.”

“You may be right.” I pointed to the line where he should cut and wondered if Fred thought he might find Mr. Neumann's money in the barn. If so, he'd be sorely disappointed. “Your secret is safe with me.” I hesitated for a moment. “Did you tell your Mutter what you have told me?”

He shook his head. “Papa said we should not tell her because she would worry that he was walking too far. I told him there was a shorter way, but Papa said his way was better.” Lukas wrinkled his nose. “I don't think his way was better, but I didn't tell him. Sometimes he gets mad when I don't agree with him.”

The boy's comment heightened my concern and confirmed my thoughts that Fred had not changed as much as the doctor and Brother Bosch believed. Still, I could not betray the boy's trust. I would keep his secrets, but I would also do my best to keep a close watch on Fred and his whereabouts.

Fred

I had to remain calm and make the boy comfortable with my plan. If I didn't, I'd fail. And I could not fail.

The tone of John Calvert's recent letter had been enough to set my teeth on edge. The man had become downright belligerent. Since I left, he'd forgotten how well I could wield a knife. If I was back in Baltimore instead of hidin' out in this village of zealots, I'd slit his throat when he tried somethin' like this. He'd probably decided my injuries offered him the protection he needed. And right now that was true. He had the upper hand, but that wouldn't last forever. Calvert needed to be reminded that I was a man with a long memory and a long reach. He was tryin' to scare me. Though I hated to admit it, even to myself, his threats did make me worry. But until I could get my hands on some money, there wasn't much I could do except return the favor and put a little fear in his heart. I needed to remind him that murdering
two men instead of only one wouldn't change much of anything for me. I could only be hanged once.

Lukas wouldn't be here for at least a half hour, enough time for me to pen a few lines and tell Calvert his threats and demands better stop or he'd need to watch his back. I didn't know if my warnin' would be enough to buy me more time, but I didn't have many choices. To save myself, I'd turn on Calvert in a minute. He needed to remember that if I'd turned on that woman in the Caribbean and killed that banker, I could just as easily turn on him.

“I hurried like you said, Papa.” I startled and the boy stopped short. Uncertainty shone in his eyes. “I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Never in my life had I seen a kid with so many fears. Lukas's timid behavior angered me, but I tamped down my irritation. One day I'd knock some sense into him, but this wasn't the time or place. Right now I needed him to see me as a generous and loving father.

Forcing a smile, I motioned the boy forward. “I didn't hear you come in the door, but I'm glad you're here.” I glanced at the clock. “You didn't tell no one 'bout our plans, did ya?”

“No, Papa, but maybe we should tell someone in case you get tired and we can't make it back in time for supper.”

I clenched my jaw. “No, Lukas, that ain't the way we're doin' this. I told you it's a secret. We won't need no help. I'm much stronger now.”

He hesitated but bobbed his head. Doubt shone in his eyes, but he was afraid to resist me. Likely 'cause he hoped to gain my love. Back when I'd been Lukas's age, I had hoped to win my father's affection, too. For years I'd tried, but then I'd learned I didn't need him or his love. Havin' feelings for other people only
caused pain and slowed progress. One day I'd teach Lukas the lessons it had taken me years to learn, but he wasn't ready just yet.

“No time to waste. Come on, boy.” I pointed to my walking stick. “Get that for me.”

“It will be easier and lots faster if we go through town and not on that path behind the doctor's office.” He handed me the walking stick. “No one will know where we're going.”

I had planned on taking the back route, but the boy was right. It took too much time and the path was hard to tread. I'd need my strength once we got to the barn. “Yer right, Lukas. We'll take the shortest route.”

He beamed at me, pleased I'd accepted his suggestion.

“How come you want to go to the barn so bad, Papa? Did you leave some of your stuff there when you and Mama moved to Baltimore?”

“Not exactly, but I'm hopin' to find somethin' I think someone else left there.”

The boy skipped alongside me. I wanted to squeeze his shoulder and tell him to walk, but I figured I better let him be for now. Otherwise, he'd probably turn tail and run back to his mother, and I was gonna need him when we got there.

“What're you hoping to find? Is it something I'll like, too?”

“You gotta wait and see. I'm not sure we'll find it, and I don't want you to be disappointed if things end up going sour.”

“Sour? Like milk?” Confusion clouded his eyes. “Sister Erma says sour milk makes good biscuits and pancakes.”

I squeezed the walking stick until my hand ached. I didn't know how much longer I could put up with the boy's silly questions. But there was no one else I could trust, so I'd have to put up with his foolish remarks and keep smilin'. That was the hardest part. Actin' like I enjoyed being with him.

He tugged on my sleeve. “Is that what ‘going sour' means, Papa?”

“Naw, it means when things don't go the way you hope they will.”

“Ohh. Like when we didn't make it to the barn last time?”

I nodded. “Yep. You could say that plan went sour.” Maybe the boy would shut up for a while if I gave him a reason. “We need to quit talkin' until we get to the barn, so I can think.”

“What you gonna think about?”

I wanted to slap the back of his head and shut him up, but I held back. Instead, I placed my index finger against my lips and gave him a stern look. He shrank back and didn't say another word until we arrived.

“Are you done thinking, Papa?” His whisper echoed in the huge barn.

“I'm done, but that don't mean you need to jabber a whole lot. We got us some work to do.”

“You feel good enough to work?”

I drew in a deep breath and tried to keep from looking mad. “I don't mean work like cleaning out the barn. I mean we got to start lookin' around.”

Dust motes danced in the waning sunlight. “What are we looking for, Papa?”

“Look for anythin' that don't belong in a barn, like a suitcase or a canvas bag, or a box of some sort.” I pointed my walking stick to the left side of the barn. “You look over there and I'll look on this side.”

The boy appeared confused, but soon he hurried to the other side of the barn and began to search in earnest.

“Be sure to move any piles of straw and make sure there ain't nothin' underneath.”

“I will, Papa, but so far there's nothing. And no piles of straw, either.”

From time to time I glanced in the boy's direction and I could see he was doin' his best. He even emptied out an old corn crib to make sure there was nothing beneath the bit of rubbish that had accumulated inside. Between the two of us, we checked each of the stalls, but found nothin' but dust and dirt. I didn't know how much time had passed, but from the dwindlin' light comin' through the barn door, it wouldn't be too long before the bell rang to announce the end of the workday. Once that happened, there would be no time to spare. We would need to start back to the village. If Lukas hadn't returned by the time the supper bell rang, he'd be missed and there would be too many questions.

When I'd finished on my side of the barn, I called to the boy. “Looks like there ain't nothin' here.”

The boy ran to my side. “Mama and I didn't find anything when we looked, either.”

I inhaled a sharp breath. “Why didn't you tell me you and your mama already searched this place?”

At my sharp tone the boy took a backward step. “Y-you never asked me.”

“Well, I'm askin' now. Tell me everything and don't leave nothin' out.” The boy's lips trembled, and I gently patted his back. “I'm sorry, Lukas. I didn't mean to frighten ya. It's just that you shoulda told me before we spent all this time lookin'.”

“Mama never said she was looking for a bag or box like you did. She just said we'd see if we could find anything special that Grandpa maybe left in the barn, but we never did.”

“You sure she didn't find something and jest didn't tell you?”

He shook his head. “Not unless she looked some more after
I went to sleep, but I think she would have told me. She doesn't keep secrets.”

Let the boy believe his mother was a saint—I knew different. I was sure the money had to be somewhere in this place. Whenever Andrea's father had any spare time, he could be found in this barn. It was his favorite spot, and what man wouldn't put his valuables in his favorite spot?

I glanced toward the loft. It was my last hope, and I'd saved looking there until last. I woulda hidden the money up in the loft, but I wasn't so sure about Andrea's father. He'd aged, and climbin' up there wouldn't have been real easy for him. Then again, maybe he'd decided there were lots of people who might come into the barn, but not many who would climb into the loft.

“Your mother go up in the loft to take a look?”

“She wanted to, but it was dark and she said her dress might get tangled on the ladder. I think she was going to go up there the next morning, but Brother Bosch came so we left with him.”

“And she ain't never come back here and gone up there?”

He hiked his shoulders. “I don't think so.”

“C'mere, boy.” I waved for him to join me at the bottom of the wooden ladder leadin' to the loft. When he was beside me, I pointed to the ladder. “You climb on up there and take a good look around.”

Lukas took several steps away from the ladder and looked up. “I-I-I don't like to go up high. It scares me.”

“Hooey! You're a big boy—ain't that what I told you afore? Now, get on up there and take a looksee.” It was takin' everythin' in my power to keep from yankin' the boy up out of his shoes and pushing him up that ladder. “C'mon now and give it a try. I know you can do it.”

I reached back, grabbed his shoulder, and pushed him forward.
His complexion turned a pasty shade and tears rimmed his eyes, but there wasn't no time for tears. The boy needed to grow up and show he had some backbone. I nodded and forced an encouragin' smile when he put his leather boot on the first rung.

“What if I fall?” His lips trembled.

“You ain't gonna fall. Besides, I'm standin' right here and I'd catch ya. You trust your pa, don't ya?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ain't no time for excuses, boy. Get on up with ya.”

He took two more steps, but then he froze. “I can't, Papa.”

No matter what I said or did, he wouldn't move another step. My anger swelled until I thought my chest would explode.
Keep calm, keep calm.
Over and over, those two words banged around in my head like a pounding drum. I reached up, grabbed him around the waist, and yanked him off the ladder. His eyes grew wide when he landed on his backside.

“Sorry, boy. Thought I had a better hold on ya. Not hurt, are ya?”

He shook his head but twisted to one side and rubbed his hip. “I'm okay, Papa. I know you didn't mean to drop me.”

Not only was the boy scared of his own shadow, he couldn't figure out when I was tellin' the truth or mockin' him. And that worked to my advantage. “'Course I didn't mean it, boy.” I dropped my walking stick beside him. “Since you ain't grown-up enough to help your pa, I guess I'm gonna have to go up this ladder myself. I sure do hope this gash in my side don't tear open.”

I rested my palm against my side and waited to see if he'd make a move, but he stood there—still as a stone. I thought maybe he'd want to prove himself grown-up and rush to take my place on the ladder. Instead, he shook his head and glanced toward the loft.

“I don't think you should go up there, Papa. We should go back
to the village, and I can ask Brother Dirk if he'll come and help us. Brother Dirk is real brave and real strong. He could climb up there easy.”

The mention of the tinsmith's name set my teeth on edge. Both Lukas and his mother thought that man was perfect. I closed the distance between Lukas and me and leaned down until we were almost nose-to-nose. “I don't need no stranger's help. That's why I brought my son, but if you ain't gonna help me, I'll go up there myself. Jest you remember that it's gonna rest on your shoulders if I tear open this gash in my side.”

I stared hard at the boy, but he still didn't move. All the time I'd spent actin' like a lovin' father had been for times like this—when I needed help and could use him. But Lukas had too much of his mother in him. He'd never amount to anything. He'd never be anything like me.

I curled my lip in disgust. “Maybe while you're sittin' down here, you can say one of them prayers you and your mother are always chantin' with them other zealots.”

A smile eased across his lips and he nodded. “For sure, I can do that, Papa.”

There it was again—bein' too stupid to tell the truth from a lie or at the very least, a strong dose of scorn. I grappled up the ladder, unwillin' to let this chance pass by. When I reached the top rung, I leaned my upper body forward and rested for a moment. A severe pinchin' feelin' had gotten worse as I climbed the steps, and once I crawled into the loft, I lifted my shirt. A bit of blood had leaked onto the bandage, and I shouted a curse.

“What's wrong, Papa? Didn't you find anything up there?”

“Shut up, boy! I ain't had time to look. That gash in my side is beginnin' to open, and it's all your fault.”

Maybe now he'd get up enough guts to come up here and help
me. I waited and listened, but instead of footsteps on the ladder, I heard him repeatin' another one of those idiotic prayers he'd learned since comin' here. I pulled down my shirt and clenched my jaw as I turned over and crawled toward the far end of the loft. The musty scent of hay filled my nostrils and I sneezed. Another pain ripped through my side, but I continued on. I wasn't going to fail. I couldn't. That money had to be here, and I was gonna find it.

When I finally made it to the far corner, I turned and sat. Leaning my back against the weathered wood, I looked around the entire loft. There wasn't much up here. Along with an old grain cradle, an ancient pitchfork rested in a small mound of hay. A small portion of an old ladder and a rusted sickle lay on the floor not far from me. Swallows roosted overhead amidst the countless cobwebs clinging to the rafters.