Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #1 (25 page)

Gravel crunching under tires made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge.

Had they come back for her?

Rebecca leaned against the edge of the ditch, her palms pushing into the dirt, hoping her black coat in the black of night made her invisible.

Still hitched to the wagon, Buttercup neighed, obviously stressed over the near miss.

A car's engine idled behind her buggy. A door opened. Closed. Rebecca's entire body trembled from the cold. If whoever had returned didn't kill her, hypothermia would.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel. Growing closer. Closer.

Adrenaline surged through her veins. She had nowhere to hide.

She pressed her cheek to the ditch's edge, trying to make herself small. Invisible. The smell of earth and moisture filled her nostrils.

A man loomed above her and Rebecca bit back a scream.

FOUR

“A
re you okay, ma'am?” Jake couldn't keep the alarm from his voice. He crouched on the side of the road and stretched his hand out to the woman in the ditch. “Let me help you.”

The woman tilted her face up and the moonlight glinted in her worried eyes. “Rebecca! What in the world happened?”

Rebecca squinted up at him, her lower lip trembling. “S-s-someone spooked Buttercup and she dumped me out of the buggy.”

Jake twisted and looked down the road. No one in sight. He wrapped his hand around her chilly fingers. “Let's get you out of there and warmed up before you freeze to death.”

He immediately regretted his choice of words.

Rebecca gathered up the wet folds of her skirt in one hand and tightened her grip on his hand with the other.

He pulled, but instead of tugging Rebecca out of the ditch, he found himself losing his footing on the muddy edge of the ditch. Rebecca's wet hand slid out of his and she flailed back and landed with a whoosh on her backside in the water. She closed her eyes, briefly stifling the words to match the look of disgust on her face. “
This
is your plan? Hmm...”

“Whoa...hold on. Step back.” The water swooshed around her boots as she stepped out of the way. “I'm going to have to try something else.”

Before he had a chance to overthink it, Jake jumped into the ditch next to her. The shock of the cold water shot through him. His leather loafers weren't exactly traipsing-in-icy-water gear. He looked down at her and thought he detected a smile on her lips in the moonlight.

Jake assessed the situation. “I'm going to have to hoist you out of here from behind.”

Her lips slanted, indicating her skepticism. “Behind?”

“Trust me,” Jake said, grimacing as the cold water sloshed around his loafers.

“I dare say you haven't given me
gut
reason to trust you yet.”

“Rebecca,” Jake said, feeling more than a little out of his element. “You're going to have to work with me on this before we both catch hypothermia out here.” He lifted one foot, then the other, unable to escape the frosty pain.

Rebecca nodded, her lower lip trembling.

“On the count of three, I'm going to give you a shove partway out of the ditch. You'll have to pull yourself up the rest of the way.”

Rebecca nodded, her bonnet askew on her head; a long strand of silky brown hair had escaped her bun. He bent over and threaded his fingers together. Put your foot here and I'll boost you up and over the side.”

Rebecca gave his hands a you've-got-to-be-kidding look, but she lifted a small foot and stepped into his clasped hands. With one quick push-shove-hoist from Jake, Rebecca was able to grab hold and get to her feet on the side of the road.

“How are you going to get out?” Rebecca wrapped her arms around her middle and loomed over him, the moon haloing her bonneted head.

Jake had maintained his physical fitness since retiring from the army by working out at the campus gym. Now was when all that exercise would pay off. He hoped. He found a foothold on the wall of the ditch and was able to pull himself out rather quickly.

Jake followed Rebecca over to Buttercup. She smoothed her hand down the horse's mane and whispered soothing words to the animal.

Rebecca finally turned to him, a look of fear in her eyes. “The car intentionally swerved in front of me. They spooked Buttercup.” Her lips trembled. “I...” She patted Buttercup's mane. “We could have been killed.”

“Could you describe the car?”

Rebecca shook her head slowly. “It passed a few times before it came at me.”

“Any chance it was an older car? Three or four guys in it?” He thought of the vehicle Samuel, Eli and the Yoder brothers had hopped into.

“I don't know. The lights blinded me. But it was a car, not a truck like you have and not a van.”

“Do you think it was random?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, I think the driver knew exactly who I was. That's why he drove past a few times first. He wanted to scare me.” She slurred her words, her lips numb.

Would Samuel really allow his friends to harass his mother? Risk seriously injuring her and her horse? Or worse?

Samuel didn't strike him as that kind of kid. Jake shoved a hand through his hair. The last conversation he'd had with the young men crossed his mind.

“Come on. You can't stand out here. I need to get you home.” Jake gently took her by the elbow and led her to his truck. “You need to get inside. Warm up.”

Rebecca pulled away. “I can't leave Buttercup here.”

“No, no, of course not. I'll call my assistant. Tommy's comfortable with horses.”

“No, I don't live far. I'll get her home.” She strode back to the buggy, the folds of her wet dress slapping her legs.

Jake followed her. He reached into the backseat and grabbed a thick blanket. As he wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled it tight at her neck, his knuckles brushed against the cool, smooth skin of her jaw. She looked up at him with something in her eyes he couldn't quite define.

Rebecca clutched the blanket and climbed into the buggy. “I'm happy you happened along. Thank you for s-s-saving me.” She nodded to him dismissively.

Jake laughed. “You really think I'm going to let you ride off alone? You're freezing. I need to see you safely home.”

A look of confusion swept across her features. Jake hopped into the buggy and nudged her aside with his hip. “Give me the reins.”

Silently, Rebecca handed him the leather straps. “What about your truck?”

“I'll pick it up later.”

“Do you know what you're doing? Have you ever done this?”

“I'm an army ranger—I'll figure it out. If I get it wrong, you can tell me.”

Even though he knew that wouldn't mean much to Rebecca, he thought he detected a smile on her quivering lips.

“S-S-Samuel won't be too happy to see you and me together again.”

Jake raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Samuel was exactly who
he
wanted to see.

* * *

When the professor flicked the reins, Buttercup lifted her head and neighed, jolting forward and stopping.

“I think she's still a little spooked from the run-in with the car.” Instinctively, Rebecca reached out, her hand brushing his hand as he held the reins a little too tightly. “Let me.”

The professor hesitated a minute, then scooted over a bit, making it easier for her to take control of the horse. “I guess I'm more an ‘insert key and turn, press gas pedal' kinda guy.”

She cut a quick glance to this man, a stranger, really, who spent his time studying her community. Her neighbors. Her son.

The brisk autumn breeze ruffled the edge of the blanket draped over her shoulders. One side slid down behind her back. The cold from her wet skirt seeped into her undergarments. She stifled a shudder. Soon she'd be home and she could light the fire. Put this dreadful night behind her.

Buttercup trotted down the road, the steady, familiar clip-clop-clip calming her nerves.

“This is the first time I've been in a buggy,” the professor said.

“Really? I thought with all your research, you would have had the opportunity before now.”

He shrugged. “No. Maybe someday when we're not all wet and cold you can show me how to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Show me how to get Buttercup to follow my commands.”

“There's nothing to it, really,” Rebecca said, heat warming her cheeks. “It's a matter of trust. Buttercup has been a wonderful horse.” She had taken the animal in when Hannah had moved away from the farm with Sheriff Maxwell.

Rebecca tightened her grip on the reins. “In my world, I don't have the option of ‘insert key and turn, press gas pedal,'” she said, mimicking him.

He laughed, the sound pleasant after such a rough evening.

“I remember the first time I saw an Amish buggy.” The professor's voice seemed nostalgic. She waited for him to continue.

“I was traveling through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, with my parents and there they were, one buggy after another traveling on the side of the road. I couldn't believe it.”

“What couldn't you believe?”

“That people would actually choose to live without...” He seemed to be searching for the right word so as not to offend her. “...All the modern conveniences.”

“You can't miss what you never had.” She gently tugged the reins to direct Buttercup toward her barn. The buggy bobbled over the ruts in the mud.

“At the time, I must have been around ten, I was fascinated with a certain TV show and I couldn't imagine not being able to catch the next episode.”

Rebecca smiled to herself. Just the other day Flo had told her how the professor had reminded her of a character on one of her TV shows. Who was it? She wondered if he'd find it flattering.

The professor hopped off the buggy and jogged around to help her down. She had plenty of practice doing it all on her own, but it was nice to have a helping hand. Willard had been gone a long time now.

On the second floor of her house, she noticed a soft light glowing in Samuel's bedroom. A mix of relief and fear tangled in her belly.

Samuel spent far too much time in his room. What was he doing?

“I'll get Samuel to settle Buttercup for the night.” Rebecca stopped by the porch steps, a little unnerved that Professor Burke seemed insistent on seeing her to the door. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.” She gripped the railing tighter.

“I'll have Samuel take you back to your truck,” she said, eager to go inside.

The professor glanced down the road. “No, I can jog back. It's not that far.”

“But you must be cold, too.” She noticed the bottom of his wet pants. The leather on his shoes was discolored from the water. “Those don't look like running shoes.”

He shrugged. “Actually, I would like to talk to Samuel before I left.”

Rebecca bowed her bonneted head and looked up at him shyly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why are we so fascinating to you?” She grabbed the blanket and pulled it tighter around her shoulders.

“The Amish?”

She nodded.

The professor ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. “My parents grew up in an Amish community. They were Amish.”

She jerked her head back. “Really? How interesting. They left the Amish community.” It was more a statement than a question.

“It was my father's idea and since my mother loved him, she followed him.” He lifted his eyes, the moonlight glinting in them, making it hard to read the emotion there. “My father always joked, calling them fence jumpers. My mother always bristled at the comment.” There was something sad about his tone.

“So, Professor, is this why you study the Amish?”

He smiled that warm familiar smile. “Partly.” His answer came out clipped and she felt as if she had stepped out of bounds. “I think it's time you called me Jake. We've spent a lot of time together.”

A smile tugged on her lips, but her feelings of fondness were fleeting. An empty road stretched behind him. And beyond that, her Amish neighbors.

The line of connection snapped as reality slammed into her. The last thing she needed was the neighbors chatting about poor widowed Rebecca Fisher entertaining the English professor. Her Amish neighbors would be requesting not to sit in her section at the diner in a silent form of protest. A shunning of sorts. The Amish's unique way of guilting a person back into the fold. Back into following the church's rules.

“I'd rather call you Professor.” The ever-present uneasiness tightened its grip on her chest. Would she ever be able to move past the shame her deceased husband had created? It was a physical pain she doubted she'd ever be rid of. If only she and Samuel could find acceptance in their own community. If only the Amish could dig deep into their vast well of forgiveness and bestow it on her.

“I don't mean to cause you any grief,” Jake said, tilting his head. There was a kindness in his eyes she wasn't used to seeing in a man. Willard had been cruel.

She blinked at him. Flo was right. He was pleasing to the eye. Inwardly, she shook the thought away. She had no business thinking in those terms.

“I'm not looking for your friendship.” She didn't try to hide the exhaustion in her voice. “My coming to your office the other night was misguided. I was desperate. I thought you could help me understand what's going on with my son.” Rebecca tapped the railing, a nervous gesture. “But I suppose that's something I have to work out with Samuel.”

The professor put his hand on the railing near hers. For the briefest moment, she thought he was going to cover her hand with his, warming it. She ignored the disappointment that swelled inside her when he didn't.

She had experienced a riot of emotions tonight and suddenly she felt extremely tired. And cold. So very cold.

“I can respect that,” the professor said, a gentleness to his voice. “However, I'd still like to talk to Samuel tonight before I go.”

Rebecca glanced toward the door of her house. “I don't know.” Her meddling seemed to only cause more problems.

The professor bowed his head, then looked up and met her gaze. Apprehension settled in his eyes. “I know you don't want to hear this, but I think Samuel might have been in the car that ran your buggy off the road.”

The blanket fell from her shoulders and her body swayed.
“Neh.”

* * *

Rebecca's face grew white and her lower lip trembled. Jake grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Let's get you inside. Where it's warm.”

She yanked away her elbow. “
Neh
, I'm fine.” He understood her anger, but he wasn't going to let it stop him.

“What's...what's going on?” Samuel stepped onto the wide porch and rushed to his mother's side. “Are you okay?”