Accidentally Amish (16 page)

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Authors: Olivia Newport

BOOK: Accidentally Amish
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“This is where we found you,” he said.

Annie smiled. “Yes it is.”

“You were like a present for Rufus.”

Annie felt the blush rise in her face and was glad Rufus was not in the barn. “Your brother was kind to me.”

“Don’t tell Joel, but Rufus is my favorite
bruder.
Matthew and Daniel don’t count. They live too far away, and I don’t remember them.”

“You have a wonderful family, Jacob.”

“I’m blessed,” he announced as he reached for a broom.

“Yes you are,” she agreed.

Behind them, a cell phone rang. Rufus’s toolbox sat right inside the door on a low shelf. Jacob looked at the phone and twisted his lips. “It says, R
UTH
. She taught me how to read her name before she left.” He turned away from the phone and began to sweep.

The phone rang several times then stopped. A moment later, it rang again, and again the caller ID announced, R
UTH
. Annie moved toward the phone.

“We’re not supposed to answer it,” Jacob warned. “She left.”

“Left for where?” Annie asked. The phone rang again, and the sound seemed to send a neurological signal compelling her to answer.

“I’m not sure. But she’s gone. We can’t answer.” Jacob moved deeper into the barn as the phone’s insistence grated on Annie.

She snatched it out of the toolbox and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Uh-oh,” Jacob said, dropping his broom and running out of the barn.

“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number,” a voice said softly into Annie’s ear.”

“Hello, Ruth,” Annie said. “You have the right number. I’ll be happy to give your brother a message.”

“Who is this?”

“My name is Annie. I met Rufus recently.”

“Are you … Is your family one of the new families to come?”

“No, I’m not Amish,” Annie said. “What would you like me to tell Rufus?”

“Tell him … tell him … just ask him to please read my letter. It’s important.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the message. Hopefully you’ll hear from him soon.”


Danke.
Thank you. For answering. And taking a message. It’s probably the best I could hope for.”

Annie wanted to ask so many questions, but she squashed them. Before she could think of anything more to say, the call ended. Annie replaced the phone in the toolbox and sat alone in the barn. If Rufus could be such a Good Samaritan to her, then why couldn’t he read his own sister’s letter?

A moment later, Rufus stood in the doorway. “Jacob said you answered my phone.”

“It was Ruth. She wants you to—”

“You should not have done that.”

His voice had an edge she did not recognize. He was close enough that she could have reached out to touch him, but she stilled the impulse. Something clouded his eyes. Anger? Pain?

“She’s your sister. She sounds … lonely or something.” The tips of two fingers brushed back and forth along the gold links at her neck.

“She knows better than to call that number for anything other than business or an emergency.” His tone was unbending. “I’m sorry you felt you should answer it.”

“Don’t you even want to hear what she said?” Annie pressed, frustration welling.

“As you like to say, it’s complicated.” He averted his eyes. “I should take you back to the motel now.”

Fifteen

R
ufus tugged on the reins to make Dolly turn into Tom’s long driveway. That the red truck was parked outside the garage attached to the house told him he had not missed Tom. He watched the front door as Dolly ambled down the gentle slope. Rufus took Dolly and the buggy to the side of the driveway where Dolly could nuzzle the ground and waited. A moment of Tom’s time was all Rufus needed, and if Tom’s daily habits could be trusted, he would emerge from the house at any moment ready to begin his workday. When Rufus met Tom five years ago, he had run a hardware store in town—one where Rufus spent money on a regular basis. More and more, he left the hardware store in the hands of his capable staff and filled large blocks of time taxiing for Amish families and hauling assorted supplies for contractors. Rufus only wanted to be sure he was on Tom’s schedule for tomorrow.

In the back of Rufus’s buggy was a sample cabinet for Mo’s approval. If she liked it—and Rufus was sure she would—he would need supplies from the lumberyard in Colorado Springs to build the rest. The owners were particular about their wood to a degree that Rufus appreciated, but it was worth traversing the distance to choose his boards from their lot.

Between a couple of odd jobs, building a sample cabinet for Mo, and updating his oversized accounts book, Rufus had not been at the motel for four days. He wondered now if Annalise was still staying there. The truth was he wondered about her more than once while he sanded white oak, mitered precise corners, and calculated income and expenses. Would she come through looking for breakfast just as he unwrapped the cabinet for Mo’s inspection? Would her gold necklace lie against her skin under a T-shirt, or would a blouse open at the neck let the chain catch the light?

Dolly nickered, and Rufus shook the thought away.
What nonsense. I am spending far too much time with the
English.
If I’m not careful, I’ll have something to confess to the whole church.
A silly ornamentation. That was all the chain was.

The front door opened, and Tom stormed out of the house.

Rufus jumped down from his buggy. “Tom, do you have a moment?”

Tom stomped toward his truck, a cardboard box under his arm. “Sorry, not now, Rufus.”

Rufus strode alongside the truck as Tom opened the driver’s door and nearly threw the box onto the passenger seat. “I just want to confirm the trip to Colorado Springs tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good. I’ll pick you up at seven.” Tom sat in the driver’s seat and fumbled his keys.

“What is it?” Rufus asked. “Is it Karl again?”

“Worse.” Tom slammed the door.

Rufus jumped back when the engine roared. A few seconds later, a screech and a cloud of dust bore witness to Tom’s fury as he pulled out onto the highway.

Annie did not have to order at the coffee shop anymore. The baristas saw her coming through the door and had a mocha caramel grande nonfat latte in process by the time Annie reached the counter to pay for it. She tipped generously and settled in at her favorite table to wait for someone to bring the completed concoction to her.

Annie punched the speed dial for Jamie.

“Friesen-Page Solutions.”

“It’s me,” Annie said.

They ran through a few routine matters.

“I’ll take care of things,” Jamie said, “but I’m not sure I understand why you don’t come home. Barrett is making himself scarce; you have a lawyer on your side. We haven’t had so much as an invoice from Rick in a week. Why aren’t you here?”

Annie sighed. The question was legitimate. “Things are working this way, aren’t they? The work is getting done. I talk to clients every afternoon.”

“You haven’t talked to Liam-Ryder Industries,” Jamie pointed out. “Shouldn’t we at least find out what they want?”

“First, we should find out who they are,” Annie said. “Have you got time for a little research?”

“Of course.”

“Make sure they’re not a legal firm in disguise.”

“Okay. When can I tell people to expect you back in the office?”

“I don’t know. Soon.”

Jamie was right. Lee Solano had quelled the legal crisis for the time being. Barrett was behaving himself and leaving her system alone—no doubt trying to play the good guy who would appear sympathetic to a judge. Whatever his reasons, it did seem that matters were calm enough for Annie to show her face at the office. Yet she felt no particular urge to go home. Living in a low-level motel room with a wardrobe that quickly became redundant was not so bad, even without a car. She got plenty of exercise walking into town, cultivated a striking tan, and gaped every day at the Sangre de Cristos so close she could almost feel their ridged rocks and cushioning trees.

And Rufus Beiler was here. Annie would never say that to Jamie, and of course it was a fantasy to think there could be something between them. Answering his phone had made that clear. But Rufus stood for something, and Annie was not finished finding out what it was.

Annie looked up at the duo bursting through the shop’s door. “Jamie, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“That’s the one,” a teenage boy said, pointing. “She’s the lady I talked to.”

Annie had only seen Tom a couple of times, but she would not have pegged him for someone infused with rage. Behind him was the boy she had spoken to four days earlier. She wanted to smile, thinking of him getting the package, but the color of Tom’s face suggested she temper her enthusiasm.

“Sorry,” the boy muttered. “He found the box this morning and came and got me from my friend’s house. I had to show him the laptop.”

“You did this?” Tom said.

He set the cardboard box on the table hard enough to make Annie wince, considering the contents.

“I talked to this boy, yes,” she said.

“This boy is my son, Carter Reynolds.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Would it have mattered?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted.

“Annie, right?” Tom asked. His face flashed through six moods in a second but remained stern.

She nodded.

“You sent my son a computer? A strange boy you met in a coffee shop?”

“It sounded like it would be a help to the whole family to have another computer in the house,” she answered evenly.

“This is a small town. Maybe we do things differently than a place like Colorado Springs, but around here we think it’s odd for a complete stranger to take up with a child and give extravagant gifts.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.” Annie blanched. “Everybody can use a computer. I didn’t mean anything … predatory.”

“Now that I see it’s you, I believe that. But parents make decisions for their own kids.”

“Of course.” She glanced at Carter, who stood with his hands jammed into plaid shorts pockets, his shoulders folded forward.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Tom said, “but we have our reasons for restricting Carter’s computer access.”

“I overstepped. I’m sorry.” Annie met Tom’s stare.

“Carter can’t keep it.” Tom nudged the box an inch toward Annie. “You may have innocent intentions, but we are trying to accomplish something else with our son. It does not include giving him an electronic appendage.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

Tom’s shoulders loosened. “I hope you can return it.”

“It’s no problem.”

Tom turned toward his slumping son. “Come on, Carter. I’ll take you home. Then I have work to do.”

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Annie said.

Tom and Carter strode out of the shop, and Annie resisted the eyes of any spectators. Suddenly working outside on the motel’s porch appealed.

Rufus saw Annalise coming with her arms full and stepped across the lobby to open the door.

“Thank you,” she said.

She huffed through the door and unloaded her arms onto the reception desk next to the sample cabinet. Her eyes barely lifted from the box. Her fingers rested on one edge of it. “The cupboard is beautiful.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” Rufus pointed out.

“I’m sure everything you do is gorgeous.” She glanced at his workmanship. “Mo must love it.”

“She seemed happy.” He nodded at the box. “Is that something special?”

“It’s a mistake, that’s all.”

Rufus had never seen that particular slant in Annalise’s shoulders, a slope of surrender. “Annalise, what happened?”

He listened to her cryptic explanation of meeting Carter and impulsively giving him a computer. Rufus picked up a rag and needlessly brushed at absent dust on the sample cabinet.

“I’m sorry for how you must feel, but surely you understand Tom’s point.” He hoped his tone found the right balance of sympathy and realism.

“Yes, I understand Tom’s point.” Annalise spun to face him.

“You’re bringing your ways into new territory,” Rufus said. “Answering my phone. Pressing questions about my sister. Giving Carter a computer just because you can.”

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