Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #1 (32 page)

“I've never liked the idea of outsiders coming into our community and studying us.”

Rebecca laughed. “Me neither, but the professor is a good man.”

Gloria raised a curious eyebrow.

“His parents were Amish.”

“Really?”

“They left before they got married.”

Gloria lowered her voice. “You're not planning on leaving, are you?” There was an ominous quality to her voice.

Rebecca slowly shook her head. “I'm not leaving. You know that. I've been working hard to guide Samuel on the right path. Why would you ever think I was planning on being a fence jumper?” An iciness sped through her. “Did the church elders come to you? Did they put you up to this?”

Her dear sister-in-law nodded. “Everyone's worried.”

“I wish the elders had jumped in to condemn the members who have been harassing us. We've felt all alone.”

“I believe those incidents were addressed. The community was devastated by your husband's actions.”

Tears bit at the back of Rebecca's eyes. “They were addressed, but not with the tenacity that they have been addressing the issues with Samuel. Lester stopped by and told us the bishop wants to meet with Samuel. I'm reluctant to send him over there for fear Samuel will run away for good.”

“You can't ignore the request.”

“I don't plan to, but I do plan to go with him. The last thing I want him to feel is ganged up on.”

Gloria gave her a sad smile. “You are a much stronger woman than I am. Please be careful not to turn your back on the Amish way, too.”

Rebecca furrowed her brow. “Why would you say that? I have no intention of running away. I only plan to protect my son.”

“You are a kind and forgiving woman. Just be sure Samuel is worthy of your kindness.”

Rebecca clamped her mouth shut, unwilling to lash out on a woman who had shown her and her daughters much kindness. She took a step toward the door. “I've had a long day and I'm tired. Thank you for bringing the girls home.”

Gloria stared at her a moment, before smiling tightly and nodding.
“Guten Nacht.”

Rebecca saw her sister-in-law out the door and then dropped down in one of the rockers, her knees weak with the turn of events. Her heart might be confused over her feelings for the professor, but she was steadfast in her determination to live the Amish way. And to set her son on the right path.

She tugged at the straps on her bonnet. She had two daughters to consider. If she had any hope of keeping them on the straight and narrow, she'd have to be stronger. She'd have to ignore the feelings she had for a man who was absolutely wrong for her and she'd have to stand strong against Samuel's misbehavior.

Rebecca prayed she could save her son. But she could no longer be weak. Not if she didn't want to risk her two young daughters watching with impressionable minds and thinking that flaunting the Amish rules would get nothing but more attention and coddling.

No more.

ELEVEN

A
few days later, Rebecca stood by the back door—her stomach twisted in knots—and waited for Samuel to return from his morning chores. She had sent Katie and Grace out to check on the pumpkins in their small garden. Rebecca couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment in their eyes, too.

When Samuel appeared outside the barn, his head slightly bowed, a bead of sweat popped out on her forehead.

Could she really do this?

Her gaze fell to the suitcase inside the door. Samuel's suitcase. The one she had packed for him while he was outside. Rebecca had met with the bishop without Samuel and through the professor, she had gotten approval from the courts for this next course of action. It was her hope to get Samuel away from the negative influence of his local friends while he awaited a court date.

Rebecca glanced at the wall clock. The ride to the bus depot that she had arranged for Samuel would be here soon. The last thing she wanted was for Flo's son to arrive before she had a chance to tell Samuel what was happening.

When Samuel reached the back porch, he slowed and glanced up at her with a quizzical look on his face. “What's going on?”

“You're going on a trip,” Rebecca said, barely able to get the words out of her parched mouth. She pushed open the screen door for her son and he stepped inside.

Samuel's gaze dropped to the worn suitcase on the floor. He took off his hat and tossed it on the hook. A strand of hay in his hair almost broke her heart. She had a flash of meeting Samuel for the first time. He had been a little boy who had lost his mother and had been reluctant to welcome Rebecca into his life. To welcome a second mother.

She immediately second-guessed her bold plan. She was blindsiding him. Maybe she should have warned him.

Samuel brushed past her and into the kitchen to wash his hands. Rebecca followed him.

“I've packed your things for a trip to—”

“You're kicking me out?” His brow furrowed and anger flashed in his eyes. It wrecked her to hurt him like this. She grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself, fearing her weak knees would go out from under her.

She struggled to form the words. She wanted him gone before Grace and Katie came back inside. She didn't want them to witness her sending their big brother away. She wanted time to explain things to her daughters without adding an emotional goodbye scene.

“I've made arrangements for you to stay in an Amish community in the Rochester area. Their church is in communion with ours.”

Samuel's brows drew together. “You're kicking me out of my home?
My
home.” His jaw trembled. “You said I was your son, but now I know the truth. You've always considered me
Willard's
son. The son of a convicted murderer. I'm no better than my father and you want me out of the house because I'm such a wicked influence.”

“That's not true.” Her voice came out shaky as what little resolve she had drained out of her.

What had she done?

Samuel kicked the small suitcase and the buckle released, scattering his plain clothing across the floor. Rebecca dropped to her knees and stuffed everything back into the suitcase, the suitcase she had used when she had been a young woman moving into Willard's house. To take over for his dead wife.

What a miserable job she and Willard had done.

Had she actually fallen so far as to compare her parenting skills to her husband's? A murderer?

Rebecca looked up from a kneeling position on the floor.

She had to remain strong.

“It's not forever,” she whispered.

She struggled to her feet, then took a step toward Samuel. He recoiled from her, but she persisted. “I love you, but you need to get away for a little bit. Away from this mess until we figure out what's really going on.”

“I already confessed.” Samuel bowed his head. “You can't lose this land for my stupidity.”

“I don't believe for a minute that you're responsible for planting the marijuana plants. Your only mistake was giving your friends, Uri and Jonas, the benefit of the doubt. I talked to the sheriff. Special arrangements have been made with the courts to allow you to travel as long as we assure them you'll come back when the trial starts.”

An uneasy feeling roiled in her gut. Courts, lawyers, law enforcement were all contrary to the Amish culture, but there was no way she was going to let Samuel fend for himself in the
English
world.

Willard would have kicked him out and not lost a night's sleep. She wasn't Willard. She had to protect Samuel. Save him from prison.

A dark memory seeped into her bones.

Willard had been
killed
in prison.

Samuel's rigid posture slackened. He lifted his hands in a supplicating gesture. “Please,
Mem
, don't send me away. I need to be here. To protect you.”

Rebecca shook her head slowly, tears forming. “Mr. Yoder has assured me he will make sure his sons stay obedient.”

Samuel let out a heavy sigh, as if suggesting Mr. Yoder hadn't had success controlling his sons in the past. Just then, a beeping sounded from the driveway.

“That's your ride. You've met my friend from the diner, Flo. Her son will drive you to the bus depot.”

Samuel turned to march up the stairs and Rebecca stood in front of him. “
Neh.
You must leave without any of your electronic things.” She closed her eyes briefly, the hollowness expanding inside her. “Please, don't make it harder than it has to be.”

Samuel glared at her. He bent over at the waist and scooped up the suitcase, turned and stormed out of the house.

With a hand to her midsection, Rebecca moved to the window and watched Samuel climb into the pickup truck. She stood at the window long after the tailgate disappeared down the country road.

An ache twisted in her heart. She had lost Samuel. Her worst nightmare had come true.

* * *

After Samuel had left, the bishop saw to it that some Amish neighbors came over to help her harvest the remaining crops. Perhaps the Fisher family was one step closer to bridging the gap. Rebecca just prayed Samuel's innocence would be proven in court.

A few long days in the fields and they were done for another season. She was relieved they had finished when they had because a storm front moved in, leaving little Apple Creek under dark clouds and steady rain.

And that was fine with Rebecca. It suited her mood.

Rebecca had worked at the diner today and was happy for the distraction. Working on the farm without Samuel only emphasized his absence. But now, after her diner shift, she was tired and wanted to go home and spend time with her daughters.

But first, Rebecca had to run to the local market to grab milk and a few other basics. Groceries in one hand, she fumbled with the handle of the umbrella as the automatic doors swooshed open. The steady rain pelted her umbrella. With the handle of her tote wrapped around her wrist, she reached up and gathered the collar of her coat. She wished the rain could wash away her feelings of indecision.

Of failure...

The swoosh of a tire in a puddle made her instinctively move closer to the buildings. It wouldn't be unheard of for one of the college students to make sport of splashing pedestrians.

Score extra points for soaking the Amish.

She shook her head and kept walking across the small parking lot toward Main Street, her mind otherwise preoccupied. She was headed back to the diner to meet her ride. Flo had offered to drive her home so she didn't have to spend part of her paltry wages on a ride. She'd have to make some big changes soon. Under the circumstances, she didn't know how much longer she could run the farm, hold down a job at the diner and support her daughters.

“Rebecca.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to face the familiar voice. The professor had pulled his truck up alongside her and had rolled down the passenger window.

“Come on, I'll give you a ride.”

Rebecca pointed at the diner. “Flo's going to drive me home. Thanks anyway.” The memory of Samuel climbing into the truck and departing for Rochester amplified the emptiness inside her. All her efforts had to mean something. Now she had to do her part, too. Behave like a good Amish woman if she hoped to further patch the tear in her association with the Amish.

“Good night.” Rebecca gave her best polite smile, hoping he'd take the hint. She had a lot on her mind, but she hadn't yet figured out how to share it with the professor. She thought she'd have more time.

He reached across the cab of the truck and pushed open the door. “Come in out of the rain. I'll drive you home.”

Rebecca slowly walked toward the door, unable to resist his friendly smile. She muttered something under her breath about his smile. This was not unfolding in the way she had intended.

“I don't want Flo to worry.”

He pulled out his phone and held it up. “I'll call the diner. Let her know.”

When she angled her head with indecision, he said, “You'll save her a trip.” He waved his hand in a come-on gesture and she let out a long sigh before closing her umbrella and climbing into the truck. She rested the wet umbrella against the seat while the professor made a quick phone call.

“Are you okay?” he asked, compassion in his tone.

“Um, yeah...” A slow ticking started in her head. She wasn't ready for this conversation.

“It had to be tough to see Samuel leave.”

And there it was. The conversation she was dreading. Not because she was still reeling from Samuel's departure, but because there was something else she had to do.

Rebecca bowed her head and played with the straps of her tote at her feet.

“Rebecca,” he said softly, “don't be hard on yourself.”

Tears started to build and she feared if she opened up to him she'd crumble with all the emotions she had kept locked inside. She wrapped her hand around the door release but stopped when a lightning bolt exploded nearby.

The professor touched the crook of her arm. “I'll just drive you home. We don't have to talk about Samuel.”

She met his compassionate gaze. “I should have at the very least thanked you for posting bail and for working within the English system to allow him to travel. I understand that's not always allowed.”

“I promised I'd help you.”

“Well, I've known men not to keep their promises.”

“I'd like the opportunity to show you that some men keep their word.”

Rebecca tracked a raindrop as it raced down the window in a wild zigzag, much like her thoughts.

The professor pulled out onto the road. “I'm free this weekend to help you with the harvest again.”

Rebecca twisted the handles of her tote bag. “Some neighbors have already helped me. You've done more than enough for my family.” She hadn't meant to sound so accusatory. She turned to smile at him in apology.

The professor rubbed his jaw and kept his eyes on the road. The worn wipers scraped across the windshield.

Screech-swoosh-screech-swoosh.

“I enjoyed working the land.” There was a faraway quality to his voice. “I guess it's in my blood.”

“You learned very quickly.” She remembered his easy smile as she'd instructed him on how to operate the farming equipment. Not only was he eager to learn, but he also had asked all the right questions.

“I
be
a college graduate.”

She frowned, his joke having fallen flat.

Rebecca fingered the strap of her seat belt. “I appreciated your help, but I need to rely on the Amish. I need to be a better example for Samuel and for my daughters.” She turned and stared out the window, watching the scenery change outside. Heat pumped out of the vents in the dash and she was grateful she wasn't in a buggy or still out in the rain.

“Well, I'm glad you finally got the help you needed.” He sounded hurt, but she had to stick with what she felt was best for her family.

“I should have never gone to an outsider. It's not our way. I should have relied on our community.”

The professor slowed at a stop sign and glanced over at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw. With the rain pelting his truck, she felt as if they were all alone. In a cocoon. As if there was no one else in the world.

He reached over and placed his hand over hers. Warm. Protective. Gentle. Qualities she had never seen in her deceased husband. She resisted the urge to pull her hand away. She needed to put distance between them. At the same time, she wanted to savor this connection with the professor one last time.

He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand. “You did nothing wrong by reaching out to me. I've done a lot of research on the
youngie
here. I've gotten to know your son. You weren't wrong in thinking I'd know something that could help you.”

“But you didn't. These young men have been doing things and hiding things right under our noses. I should have been harder on Samuel a long time ago.”

“You think he'll be better off away from here?”

“He needs to be away from his gang.”

The professor nodded. He lifted his hand and touched her cheek briefly. “Don't push me away, too.”

A car honked behind them and the professor dropped his hand and turned his attention to the road.

“I have to,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noisy wipers. “I have to.”

* * *

Jake's truck bobbled over the puddle-filled ruts in Rebecca's driveway. The rain pelted the roof of his truck, filling the silence with a steady drumming beat.

“When Samuel comes home for the trial, I hope you make him feel welcome. He needs you now more than ever,” Jake said.

Rebecca's bonnet was damp from the rain. The look on her face pained him. “You think I was wrong in sending him away.” He was surprised by the harshness of her tone. “I'm not the King family. I didn't throw him out on the street, leaving him to fend for himself. I sent him to an Amish home.” She drew in a shaky breath and continued, “I can't have all these
worldly
influences around my young daughters.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and bowed her head. Her cheeks flared pink from the heater vents. He adjusted the knob to moderate the heat.