Accidentally Amish (3 page)

Rufus stopped his forward progress and stared at her.

“I’m sorry, Rufus,” Annie stammered. “I can explain.”

He stiffened. “How do you know my name? Did Karl Kramer send you here to cause trouble?”

“No! I don’t even know Karl Kramer.”

“I don’t want to seem inhospitable, but what are you doing in my barn?”

“I need a place to stay for the night.” Annie put her hands up, palms out. “I’ll get out of your way first thing in the morning.”

“How did you get here?”

“It’s a long story.”

Annie held still under the inspection of his violet-blue eyes. Finally, Rufus led Dolly down the center of the barn and into her stall. Annie held still as man and horse passed. Once the horse was settled, Rufus closed the stall and turned back to Annie.

He crossed his arms across his chest. “I enjoy a good story.”

“I didn’t say it was a good story, just long.” Annie’s mind raced with questions of her own. “The truth is, I’m not even sure where I am.”

“I can help you with that. You’re in the San Luis Valley between the Wet Mountains and the Sangre de Cristos. In the daylight, the view is spectacular.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Rufus seemed in no hurry to leave. “You never said how you know my name.”

“I heard you and Tom talking.” Annie exhaled slowly.

“How do you know Tom?”

“I don’t.”

He pressed his lips together. “Perhaps you can give me the short version of your story.”

Annie sighed. “I was … in a bit of trouble and had to hide.”

“And?”

“I stowed away.”

“In Tom’s truck?”

She nodded.

“What kind of trouble are you in?”

“I’d rather not say,” Annie answered. “If you want me to leave tonight, I will. Right now.”

“And go where? How?”

Annie tilted her chin up. “I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be trouble.”

They stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds.

“I have an empty stall. I’ll get you a quilt and some fresh hay,” Rufus finally said. “But I’m not going to leave a gas lantern in the barn with an
English
who doesn’t know to be careful.”

Rufus woke before the sun, as he had since childhood. As always, his mother already stirred in the kitchen downstairs. Even when they had first moved from Pennsylvania five years ago and the early weeks in Colorado were erratic and challenging for all of them, the rhythm that formed her forty-seven years hardly wavered. In a few more minutes, his sisters Sophie and Lydia would be up, along with brothers Joel and Jacob.

He got out of bed and dressed quickly, thinking of the mysterious guest in the barn. She was like Ruth, the same slender build putting skin on fierce determination. Rufus moved into the hallway, cocked his head to listen to the sounds below, and ducked into the small room where his sister used to sleep. On the hook behind the door, he found what he was looking for. He folded a deep purple dress and a white bonnet, then with quiet steps, he descended the stairs and slipped out of the house.

It was silly to think the
English
would want the dress. She wanted to leave, did she not? She had promised she would leave. Whatever happened to her the night before surely rattled her, but he was certain she was not the sort to be frightened in the daylight.

But something had compelled her to trust her welfare to a stranger’s truck. He only wanted her to know she was welcome and it was safe to stay if she wanted to.

He did not wake her. She slept on the quilt, her arms around her bag, her hair the same color as the hay behind her head. She was an
English
woman, yet he could not shake the sense that she somehow belonged here in his barn. He watched as her long eyelashes fluttered in resistance to coming wakefulness.

Rufus laid the folded dress next to her hair spilled on the hay then went back to the house for his breakfast.

Annie woke abruptly with the distinct sense that someone had been there. She pushed herself upright and immediately checked her bag for her laptop then patted the bulge in her back pocket. Relief. Everything was right where it should be. Except her. She definitely did not belong here. Annie pulled her phone out and touched the screen. The three text messages she ignored the night before were now seven.

D
ON
’
T BE A FOOL
, A
NNIE
.

Y
OU
’
RE THROWING EVERYTHING AWAY
.

T
HIS IS NOT OVER
.

She deleted the rest unread then checked her e-mail. Four messages, four taps on the D
ELETE
option.

Then she saw the dress. The deepest, richest purple cotton cloth she had ever beheld, the color of an African violet bloom.

She was sure it had not been there the night before. Rufus must have brought it. But why? She reached for it and let the smoothness of its texture slide across her hands.

This time Annie heard the barn door open, and Dolly was nudging the stall door looking for attention. Rufus stood silhouetted in the opening, the rising sun behind his head brushing the sky pink.

A
nnie lurched to her feet, dropping the folded dress and clumsily brushing hay from her clothing.

Rufus pulled the barn door nearly closed with one arm then moved toward her. “I brought you some breakfast.”

“That was kind of you.” Annie ran one hand through her hair, dislodging more hay.

Rufus set a tray on a small stool and backed away.

“Thank you.” Tentatively, Annie lifted the dish towel that covered the tray and discovered hot buttered biscuits and a bowl of applesauce. “I found the clothes. Thank you for that as well.”

He smiled. “You’re being polite, but I don’t suppose you can really see yourself wearing my sister’s dress.”

Annie liked the way his cheeks spread when he smiled—then she could not believe the thought had crossed her mind under the circumstances. He was Amish, after all. “That smells good.” She picked up a biscuit.

“My mother is a very good cook.”

Annie took a hefty bite. She had not eaten since breakfast the previous day, so extenuating circumstances or not, she was ravenous. She swallowed two large bites rapidly.

“Um, about the clothes?” she said.

Rufus shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

“And thank you so much.” She just was not sure what the thought was. “I promised I would leave first thing this morning.”

He nodded. “I began to think about what made you run in the first place.”

“I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”

“Maybe you have a good reason to be here. Perhaps it is
Gottes wille.
God’s will.”

Annie swallowed more of the moist biscuit and scooped a spoonful of applesauce.
God’s will?
That thought had not occurred to her.

“You don’t have to eat so fast,” Rufus said. “I did not tell anyone you are here.”

Annie forced herself to wait a few seconds before her next bite. “You’ve had your breakfast, I suppose.”

He nodded.

“Are you even supposed to be talking to me?”

“You’re in my barn. I’d say that gives me good reason.”

“But you didn’t have to feed me.”

“It’s the Christian thing to do.”

“Thank you again. I’ll get out of your hair in just a moment. How far will I have to walk to find …”

“Civilization?”

His arched brow made Annie look away. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He shook his head. “It takes much more to offend. We’re about five miles from Westcliffe. I can take you. I’m going anyway.”

“That’s right. You’re meeting Tom,” Annie said.

“Whom you don’t know,” Rufus reminded her.

“I know he’ll be waiting for you to empty his truck.” Annie wiped her mouth on a corner of the dishcloth. “I don’t want to hold up either of you.”

“It’s no trouble. I’ll get the buggy ready.”

Both horses neighed softly, and behind Rufus the barn door cracked opened slowly. A small boy shoved against its weight, gradually widening the gap.

Annie’s eyes widened as well. Her gaze went back and forth between Rufus and the boy. The resemblance was remarkable.
His son.
Something in her sank.

Triumphant, the boy brushed the dust off his hands and for the first time looked inside the barn. He wore black pants and a white shirt. From under his straw hat, straight-cut blond hair hung over his forehead. He swirled one bare toe in the dirt of the barn floor and stared at Annie.

“I’m Jacob Beiler,” he said. “Who are you?”

Rufus chuckled softly. “Good question.”

“I’m Annie. Annalise, actually. It’s nice to meet you, Jacob.”

“Do you have a last name?”

“Friesen,” Annie answered. “I’m Annalise Friesen.”

“Are you from Pennsylvania?” Jacob asked, moving to stand next to Rufus. “I’m from Pennsylvania, but I do not remember Pennsylvania.”

“I’m from Colorado,” Annie said. “I’ve never been to Pennsylvania.”

“Jacob was a baby when we moved here.” Rufus rested a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “We’ve only been here about five years.”

“Oh, I see.” Annie supposed a wife would be the next character to enter the scene.

Rufus smiled again. “You didn’t even know there were Amish people in Colorado, did you?”

“Well no,” she admitted. “I don’t come this way often.”

“So why are you here now?” Jacob asked.

“Don’t be nosy, Jacob,” Rufus said.

“I’m not nosy,” the boy responded. “
Mamm
says I’m just curious about everything.”

“
Ya.
But don’t be so curious about this. Have you had your breakfast yet?’

“I forgot,” Jacob said. “The sky called me, and I wanted Dolly to see.”

Another form split the glare coming through the open barn door. A woman paused to inspect the scene. “
Guder mariye
.”

“
Mamm
, Annalise is here,” Jacob announced.

“
Ya
. I see that.” The woman’s floor-length dress was a deep turquoise under an apron that matched the purple garment still folded at Annie’s feet. A white bonnet sat loosely on her head, the ties hanging down her chest. “I’m Franey Beiler. I see you have met two of my sons.”

They’re brothers!
“I’m pleased to meet you as well,” Annie said awkwardly. She stooped quickly and picked up her bag. “Perhaps I should leave now.”

Franey looked from Rufus to Annie, but her face remained open, even amused. The hard edge Annie expected from an Amish mother who had just found her son in the barn with a strange woman did not appear.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here,” Annie said. “Rufus had nothing to do with it. I take full responsibility.”

“I raised my son to give a cup of cold water to a traveler in need,” Franey said. “Or at least a cup of
kaffi.
Do you like
kaff
?”

Coffee?
“Very much.”

“I’m going to take her into town,” Rufus said. “I have to meet Tom.”

“Tom can wait ten minutes while our guest straightens herself out,” Franey said. “Please come to the
haus
, Annalise.” She gestured out the wide door toward the house. “Sophie should have been out to milk the cow by now.”

Annie felt compelled to accept the invitation and fell into step beside a woman she judged to be about twice her age—or perhaps not quite that old. If Rufus was her son and Jacob was her son, Franey Beiler had spent a lot of years having babies. She must have had a handful by the time she was Annie’s age.

In the house, Annie made a couple of false starts with the water pump at the bathroom sink but finally succeeded at splashing water onto her face. She dug in her bag for something to tie her hair back and stared at her reflection in a small, dull mirror. If she didn’t know better, she would not have guessed that the young woman who stared back was a successful software creator who already had made a small fortune.

Yesterday morning she woke in her own paid-for condo and drove to her own office in her own loan-free car. She had known the day would bring upheaval, but she had not expected to end up in the San Luis Valley preparing to ride in an Amish buggy.