Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #1 (34 page)

A long time ago, she had ceased being a quiet Amish wife. She had to be the head of this household. Protect her family.

You're seeing things, silly woman.
Willard's voice clashed with the wind and rain and a dull roar of thunder moving off to the east.

Each step seemed harder to take, but she knew if she stopped she'd lose her nerve. When she reached the outbuilding, she pressed her body against the wall and peered toward the open door.

Was someone in there?

A rustle of plastic sounded overhead. She glanced up just in time to see a huge blue tarp dropping out of the sky. She raised her hands to fling it away when something heavy landed on top of her, shoving her down into the wet mud. Her pitchfork useless by her side.

Dear Lord, help me.

THIRTEEN

J
ake placed the book on the passenger seat of his truck and made a spontaneous decision to drive over to check on Rebecca and the girls. He knew the bishop had seen to it that she had some help with the farm now that Uri and Jonas were prohibited from working for her. But there were always things to be done.

He knew Rebecca wanted him to stay away because their future was predetermined due to their different backgrounds. He tapped the book on the seat next to him. Nervous indecision pressed on his chest. Maybe...just maybe he could change that.

As Jake rounded the curve on the country road, the clouds had turned an ominous steely gray. He adjusted the windshield wiper speed to keep pace with the driving rain. A rumble of thunder sounded overhead. When he turned up Rebecca's driveway, her quaint home came into view beyond his blurry windshield. He really needed to replace his wipers.

Jake climbed out of the vehicle, flipped up his hood and shuddered against the cool rain. Bent forward, he jogged toward the house. He lifted his hand to knock when he heard a cry in the distance. He spun around and squinted toward the sound. Katie and Grace were holding hands, dodging mud puddles and running toward the barn.

Unease twisted around his spine.

Where was their mother?

Perhaps she had been in front of the girls and had reached the barn before the strange muffled cry rang out.
What was that?
Not wanting to waste another moment, he ran after them, muttering his annoyance when his dress shoes sank in the mud with each step.

He also really needed to get some boots.

He caught up with the girls inside the barn's entrance. Katie had her arm around Grace, comforting her. He glanced around the barn.
No Rebecca.

“Girls, what are you doing out in this weather? Your mother will be worried about you.”

The girls turned around as a unit. Grace had red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, both from the rain and tears. His heart stuttered.

“What's wrong?”

“
Mem
came out to the barn to check on Buttercup and—” Katie sniffed “—and she didn't come back.” Katie squeezed her sister's shoulders. “I thought she couldn't get Buttercup to settle down and that's why it was taking a long time.” The corners of her mouth tugged down in a heartbreaking display of emotion. “She's gone.”

Tamping down his growing unease, Jake crouched down to the girls' level. “Are you sure she's not in the house?”

“
Neh
, we came from the house.”

Grace's big eyes canvased the barn. “She's missing. Maybe she's gone like our big brother.”

Jake gently touched Grace's arm. “Your
mem
wouldn't leave you.”

“After our
dat
went away,” Katie joined in, “Samuel promised us he would never leave. But he did.”

A knot formed in Jake's stomach. These poor children had experienced much loss in their young lives.

Jake surreptitiously scanned the barn behind the girls, looking for any signs of mischief. “Your
mem
came out here to check on Buttercup?”

Grace nodded and her chest rose and fell on a sob. “Buttercup doesn't like thunder.”

As if on cue, the horse neighed her annoyance at a distant rumble of thunder. Jake strolled over to the horse's stall with the girls and let them pet her. “Buttercup's fine.”

His pulse ticked in his ears, like time slipping away. But he didn't want to jump to conclusions or to alarm the girls. “Let me get you both inside, then I'll come back out and find your mom.”

“Where can
Mem
be?” Katie asked. The slightly older girl easily slipped into the role of big sister, protector. But even she had a hitch in her voice.

Grace broke away from her big sister and clung to Jake. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “It's going to be okay.” A drip of rain plopped down onto her bonnet from a leak in the barn roof. He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Let's get you inside where it's dry.”

Grace took his hand. The feel of the little girl's cool hand in his caught him off guard. His parents had never been affectionate. It was not a common trait of the Amish. Yet Grace must have been frightened enough to reach up and take his hand. He smiled down and gently squeezed her hand. “Everything will be okay.”

Grace nodded.

Katie marched ahead and when they stepped outside the barn, he noticed the rain had turned from a torrential downpour to a gentle shower. In the distance against the gunmetal sky, a streak of lightning flashed. He noticed Katie quietly counting under her breath. Then a crash of thunder. Grace startled next to him.

“Seven,” Katie said confidently. “The storm is seven miles away. We're okay.”

Jake reached out with his free hand and gently touched Katie's shoulder. “Yes, we are. Let's hurry inside so you don't get too wet.”

They pounded up the steps of the porch. The front door stood open and, instinctively, Jake moved the girls behind him.

“Did you girls leave the door open?”

Grace shrugged and Katie looked a little sheepish.

Jake stepped into the room, holding the girls back. He called out for Rebecca, but he was met with only the soft sound of rain on the roof.

“No, Professor, she's outside. I told you,” Katie said, her voice edged with youthful exasperation.

“I know, honey. The door was open. I wanted to make sure she hadn't returned while we were in the barn.”

Jake made the girls sit in the rockers in the front room while he quickly checked all the rooms in the house, calling Rebecca's name while he did.

As the seconds ticked away, his unease amped up.

Something was wrong.

“Katie, follow me to the door.” When she did, he turned and said, “Lock it behind me. I'll be right back with your
mem
.”

She nodded. Jake paused on the porch while he listened for the snap of the bolt. He pulled his hood up, stood at the edge of the porch and scanned the yard.

“Rebecca,” he called, cupping his mouth. “Rebecca.”

His mouth grew dry.

No answer.

The wind kicked up and blew leaves across the yard, some settling against the grate protecting the underside of the porch.

Jake stepped off the porch and ran toward the barn.

Where are you, Rebecca? Where are you?

* * *

Planting her palms into the cold, wet mud, Rebecca pushed herself up. The blue tarp crinkled in the wind and the distinct smell of plastic mixed with the earthy scent of mud tickled her nose. She braced herself, fearing whoever had thrown this down over her would jump on top of her to finish her off.

Fear tingled her scalp.

Maybe the wind had blown the tarp down on her. Maybe her imagination was getting the best of her.

Yet the tarp felt weighted at the corners.

Pulse whooshing in her ears, she held out her arm and yanked back a side of the stiff tarp, finally untangling herself from this mess. A cool breeze caressed her damp cheeks as she squinted up at the darkening sky. The shadow of the outbuilding hunkered over her like an ominous threat.

“Is someone there?” Her soft voice shook, barely audible over the stiff winds.

A solid thud and a groan sounded from around the back of the building. Gathering the folds of her dress, she pushed to her feet. She picked up the pitchfork. Pressing against the rough wood of the poorly cared for shed, she shuffled toward the edge, afraid of being detected.

Someone was running across the field. Away from her.

She stood paralyzed, flat against the building. Her grip tightened on the tool.

Was it one of the Yoder brothers?

She couldn't be sure. All she could see was a dark form growing smaller across the field.

A deep voice carried on the wind. Was someone calling her?

“Rebecca.”

Glancing toward the barn, she realized the house was out of view, but at least whoever had thrown the tarp on her was running away from the house.

Her girls should be safe.

A tingling started in her fingers and worked its way up her arms. She had to check on them to be sure.

As she stepped away from the shed, she noticed its door yawned open. All her senses went on high alert. The glass on the bottom pane closest to the door handle was broken.

Willard used to keep the outbuilding's door locked. The building was little more than an oversize shed. He'd kept weapons in there. A million memories swirled in her head. Willard's angry voice to stay away from his stuff scraped across her brain.

Willard's gone. He can't hurt me.

Holding her breath, Rebecca pushed the door all the way open. It creaked on its hinges and bounced off a nearby table. Goose bumps raced across her flesh as she stepped into the small structure. The unkempt ten-by-ten space was empty save for branches hanging from the ceiling.

The marijuana? She reached up and touched the drying leaves. A pain started behind her eyes.

How could this be?

Rebecca lifted her hand to her temples and rubbed.

“Rebecca!” The familiar sound of Jake's voice made her spin around.

“I'm here.” She ran toward the door and tripped on the lip of the doorway. She caught herself on the doorframe.

Jake came into view and the look of relief on his face caught her off guard and secretly thrilled her. He gripped her shoulders and angled his head. “What happened to you?” He stared at the pitchfork.

Rebecca leaned it against the wall.

“I'm fine. I'm fine.” She searched frantically behind him, looking toward the main house. “Are the girls okay?”

“Yes, yes. They're fine. I saw them before I came looking for you. Now tell me. What happened?”

Rebecca pointed up, to the roof of the outbuilding. “Someone threw a tarp down on me. And then he took off. Over there.” She pointed across the field.

Jake squinted in the direction she pointed. “I don't see anyone.”

“I'm afraid he's gotten away.”

Jake turned his attention back to Rebecca. He brushed his thumb across her cheek. When his thumb came away with dirt, she stepped back and swiped at her face, heat reddening her cheeks. “I landed face-first in the dirt.”

“Are you okay?”

She stepped out of the doorway and raised her palm to the contents inside. “Look at this. Tell me what this means.”

Jake slipped past her and took in the scene.

“I thought the police destroyed the drugs,” she whispered.

“Whoever knocked you out must have grabbed a few plants before they escaped.”

“Why are they hanging the plants?”

“I don't know much about marijuana, but I imagine they needed to dry it out and cure it. To get it ready to sell.” Jake touched one of the leaves. “It seems too damp in here.”

“They probably were trying to put the tarp on the roof to stop it from leaking.” A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

He smiled, mirroring her, but one of his brows pulled down at the corner as if her sudden change in mood had confused him. He wiped what she suspected was another spot of mud from her cheek. “You are a mysterious woman, Rebecca. Why are you smiling?”

“Don't you see? This—” she held her palm up to the shed that had seen better days “—this proves my son is innocent. Samuel's near Rochester. He couldn't have been responsible for this. He's innocent.”

FOURTEEN

T
he hope in Rebecca's eyes crushed Jake. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her. To tell her that Samuel
was
innocent.

What did this incident really mean? Leaning over, he dragged the damp tarp away from the building and saw nothing other than an uneven muddy patch. He held out his hand to the dirt staining the front of her dress. “This is where you fell?”

Rebecca brushed at her dress but it only served to rub it in. “Yes. I didn't see the man until he was running away.” A look of disgust flickered across her face. Jake turned and squinted up at the roof of the small outbuilding.

A gust of wind whipped up and brought with it more rain.

“Let's get inside.” With a hand gently on the small of her back, Jake guided Rebecca across the uneven earth.

When they reached the house, Rebecca turned the handle and found the door locked. A look of concern creased her smooth forehead.

“I told them to lock it.”

Rebecca looked up at him with gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you for looking out for them. I shouldn't have left them alone, but we were all worried about Buttercup in this storm...”

“They're fine. Don't beat yourself up.”

“It's so dark out here. Anyone could be out there.” Her lips began to tremble. “We're out here all alone. If something more serious had happened to me, who would have...”

Jake leaned in close and resisted the urge to kiss away the tears. “It'll be okay. You have to trust in God.”

“I've done nothing
but
trust in God.” She plucked at her skirt again. “Look at me.”

Jake stared at the top of her bonnet, unsure of how to comfort her. He didn't want to offend her by drawing her into his arms. He didn't want to add to her inner turmoil.

“Are you ready to go in?” he whispered. He knew she wouldn't want to upset the girls by appearing out of sorts.

Rebecca lifted her head and swiped at her cheeks, leaving more mud streaks. Jake felt a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “You are a real mess.”

“I'm fine. It's not unusual to get a little dirty working the farm.”

“In the rain,” he added.

“Exactly.” A bright light shone in her eyes. A slow smile crept across his face in response to hers. He had done that. He had brought Rebecca a small moment of happiness.

They locked gazes, and then she lifted her hand and knocked. From inside, he heard a fumbling as someone worked the lock. The door eased open and Katie's curious gaze appeared in the crack. When she saw her mother, she pulled the door all the way open.

“Mem,”
Katie said, her eyes drawn to her mother's dirty clothes. “What happened to your dress?”

Rebecca waved her hand in dismissal. “I fell in the mud.” When Katie's eyes opened wide, her mother reassured her. “I'm fine. Nothing a good scrub won't get out.”

Katie stepped back and Grace ran up, wrapping her arms around her mother's waist undeterred by the mud. “Don't ever leave us.”

Jake read every sorrowful emotion playing out on Rebecca's pretty face. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Oh honey, I was checking on a few things and got caught in the rain.” She ran her hand down her daughter's head. “You're getting all muddy.” She took her daughter's hands and held her at arm's length. “I'm here. I'm your
mem
. I'm not going anywhere.”

Across the room, Katie stared at Jake with her little mouth set in a pout. Then her steely gaze landed on her mother. “You have dirt on your face.”

Rebecca lifted her hand to her cheek. “I know. I'll have to clean up.”

“When is Samuel coming home?
He
should have been checking on Buttercup.”

Rebecca stepped back and Jake caught her arm to steady her, then quickly dropped his hand. Rebecca met Jake's gaze.

“We'll talk about this later,” Rebecca said to her daughter.

“
Aenti
Gloria said you sent my brother away because he was bad. Now with him gone things would be better.” The child sounded much older than her years.

Rebecca slowly sat down on the rocker, playing with the cold, wet, muddy folds of her skirt. “This is a very grown-up conversation. Your brother made some bad decisions. He didn't follow the rules. We must pray that he finds his way.”

Katie's lips twitched and she looked up at Jake. “
He
shouldn't keep coming around here. It's not right.”

Both he and Rebecca realized Katie had redirected her fear over her missing mother to disappointment over her brother's absence. When that didn't earn her any satisfaction, she channeled her anger toward Jake.

“I wanted to make sure your mom was okay,” Jake said.

Rebecca stood and opened the door. “And since I am, Professor Burke is heading home,” she said pointedly to Jake. “Thank you for stopping by, but my girls and I are fine.” Her eyes projected an apology.

Jake stepped closer to Rebecca and whispered, “Can we talk on the porch?”

Rebecca sighed heavily.

Without waiting for an answer, Jake slipped the quilt from the rack and draped it around her shoulders.
“Please,”
he whispered.

She seemed to take in the room, then stepped out on the porch with him.

She crossed her arms under the quilt. “What is it?”

“I don't want you to get your hopes up.”

Her eye twitched. “About Samuel?”

“Yes, just because he's not here doesn't make him innocent. He could have been working with the Yoder brothers. Or someone else. One of them might have thrown the tarp over you today.”

Rebecca bit her lower lip. “Call the sheriff. Tell him what happened here. Ask if he'll check on the Yoders. Maybe one of them will...what would you say...crack? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” He touched her elbow and she stepped back as if it burned. “You need to be careful out here all alone with the girls.”

“This is my home.” She set her jaw. “And the more I think of it, you shouldn't be here. It doesn't help. I'm trying desperately to be a good influence on my girls. We need stability.”

Bowing his head, Jake ran a hand across the back of his neck. He hadn't anticipated sharing his plans, but he needed to reach across the gap. “I've talked to Bishop Lapp.”

“About Samuel?” The indignation was evident in her tone. “I don't need—”

“I talked to him about me,” he interrupted.

She looked up, curiosity lighting her brown eyes.
“You?”

Jake leaned on the porch railing and crossed his arms. “I have never felt more at home than I do here. With you.”

Rebecca tugged the quilt closer around her neck. “I don't understand.”

“I'm exploring being baptized into the Amish community.”

Her brows snapped together. “What? Why?” She leaned toward him, then stepped back, flattening herself against the siding of her house. “Is this all part of your research? For some paper?” Her eyes sparked with anger. “We are not...” She bowed her head and grew quiet.

He pushed off the railing and stood in front of her, careful not to make her feel trapped. “No, it's not for a paper. It's not for my job at the university... It's for you.”

His heart pounded in his ears and her face went still. She took a step to the side and yanked open the door. She paused but didn't turn around.

“Despite that fancy education, you have it all wrong about the Amish. All wrong.”

She stepped inside and closed the door. He heard the lock click.

* * *

“You look exhausted,” Flo said, screwing the silver top of the saltshaker back on after refilling it. She placed it in the rack next to the pepper, set it aside, then turned to give her full attention to Rebecca.

“I am. I couldn't sleep.” Rebecca blinked her eyes a few times, trying to get rid of the gritty feeling. She grabbed the gray bin of clean silverware and placed it on the counter with a clatter.

Flo laid out a paper napkin and rolled a fork, spoon and steak knife in it. “No need to be lying awake at night. You did the best thing for Samuel right now.”

“I have faith Samuel will be okay.” Rebecca sounded bleak, unconvincing.

Flo rolled up another napkin with silverware and tossed it into the basket. The older woman tipped her head toward the large bin of silverware. “I've heard busy hands are the best antidote for a worried mind.” She arched a brow in amusement.

Rebecca felt her face grow warm. “I'm sorry—I'm distracted.” She scooped up a knife, fork and spoon, placed them on a napkin and started rolling. She hated bringing her worries to her friend, but she felt lonely sometimes and she couldn't get the conversation she had had with Jake yesterday out of her mind.

Jake was considering joining the Amish community.

“I have a feeling it's not only Samuel who's distracting you.” Flo never missed anything.

“Jake...” She lifted her eyes to meet Flo's. The older woman nodded in understanding.

Rebecca held up her hand to stop her friend before she made a comment that would make her blush. “I have to tell you because you're the only one I can trust not to judge me.”

Flo rested her hip against the counter and slipped her hands into her apron. “What is it, honey?”

“Jake told me he's thinking about joining the Amish.”

Her pale eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Rebecca nodded slowly, feeling the world close in on her. Heat gathered around her face and she tugged on the collar of her dress.

“Do people do that? I don't think I've ever heard of an outsider joining the Amish community. I usually hear about the heartache when one of the Amish youth runs away.” Flo stood straighter, her eyes unfocused as if lost in thought. “
Can
people do that?”

“It's highly unusual, but it has been done.”

A light came into Flo's eyes and she lifted her hands and covered her mouth. “Oh dear, he's doing it so he can be with you, isn't he?”

Rebecca bowed her head and shook it. “He must make the decision on his own for reasons more than me.” Her mind flashed back to how comfortable Jake seemed working on the farm. His mention of feeling at peace. She pressed her lips together and sighed. “
Neh
, he can't join the Amish community just because of me.”

With her index finger, Flo lifted Rebecca's chin to force her to meet her gaze. “You
are
worth it. Don't underestimate yourself.”

Rebecca shook her head again, this time more adamantly. “He should do it because he wants to embrace the Amish ways. No other reason.”

“Of course, of course,” Flo agreed, “but you would be a nice bonus.”

Rebecca was surprised to hear a giggle escape her lips. “You're the best part of this job. I'm grateful for your friendship.”

Flo made a dramatic show of looking around the diner. “That's high praise,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. Then her face grew serious and she pulled Rebecca's hands into hers. “It's time you found happiness.”

“It's not the—”

“—Amish way,” Flo finished her sentence. “I truly don't think God would mind if you found happiness.”

With Flo's words swirling around her head, Rebecca picked up more silverware and set it down on the napkin.

Could she and Jake find happiness together?

The empty space inside her no longer seemed so empty. Dare she hope?

The jangling bell on the door signaled the arrival of a few customers coming in for an early breakfast.

“Have a seat wherever you'd like,” Flo hollered to them.

The older woman grabbed the coffee carafe. “I'll get this table.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca's gratitude was short-lived. The sheriff walked through the door with his keen focus solely on her.

Rebecca filled a mug with coffee. Black. Just how the sheriff liked it. He strolled over to the counter and slipped onto the stool in front of the mug. “Morning, Rebecca. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Morning, Sheriff Maxwell.”

He took a sip, studying her over the rim. “Have you recovered from last night?”

“I'm fine. No worse for the wear, I suppose. But it'll take some work to get the mud out of my dress.” She smiled. “Did you have a chance to talk to the Yoder boys?” Butterflies flitted in her stomach as she waited for the sheriff's response.

“Yeah. I met Jake at their house. Mr. Yoder assured us that both boys had been home all day doing chores on the farm. At the approximate time of the incident, Mrs. Yoder said the family was gathered for dinner.”

A sinking feeling weighed on Rebecca. “I see.”

“There's always a chance they're mistaken,” the sheriff said, setting his spoon on the napkin. A brown spot grew where he had placed it.

“Mr. And Mrs. Yoder are good people. I don't believe they'd lie.” Outside the window, the weather was dark and dreary, like her mood.

Flo brushed past her and pinned her order to the wheel above the window leading into the kitchen. “Morning, Sheriff Maxwell. Hungry for some breakfast? Pancakes?”

The sheriff took another sip of his coffee, then pushed away from the counter and stood. “No, thanks. I have to get on the road.”

He turned to Rebecca. “Contact me if you need anything. Please.” She must have been wearing a look of concern because the sheriff paused. “Hannah would want you to reach out. To me.
To her.
She loves you and doesn't want anything to happen to you.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca slowly blinked. “Have a good day, Sheriff.”

Flo picked up a small stack of plastic menus and pressed them into Rebecca's hands. “Next table's yours.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca started to walk away when she heard Flo mumble.

“Professor Burke would look great in suspenders and a straw hat.”