by Alison Stone
Would she have it in her to leave a second time?
“I’m not so sure it’s a good morning,” Bridget muttered.
The mascara Liddie had been experimenting with yesterday was smeared under her eyes. She pushed up on one elbow, and her long, loose hair fanned out over the pillow. “Maybe this is a sign.” Bridget had told Liddie about the discrepancies in the prescriptions. That perhaps Dr. Ryan had been part of a pill mill. She had come across that term during her internet search. About how she finally summoned the nerve to report the well-loved doctor after she learned about a patient’s son who had overdosed on this very same class of drugs.
Bridget grunted and sat up. “A sign?” The AC unit clicked off, and the room grew still. “A sign that I’m supposed to return to Hickory Lane for good?” The comforter slipped down, exposing Bridget’s bare arm, and she shuddered. “Do you think this is God punishing me for leaving?” All the thoughts swirling around her brain came spilling out, directed angrily at her sister, her poor, sweet sister who had no idea how hard Bridget had worked to get this far. On her own.
Liddie smiled sadly. “We’ve missed you. That’s all. I’ve been praying that Ashley is found safe. And I’m worried about you. Don’t be mad at me.”
Bridget’s shoulders sagged. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” She swung her legs around and climbed out of bed. “Dat isn’t going to want me in the house unless I submit to God and the Amish ways in front of the community. You know that.”
“Maybe once your friend explains the situation, he’ll understand,” Liddie said, sitting up and raking her fingers through her tangled hair.
“The DEA agent is not my friend. I met him yesterday.” Bridget picked up an elastic from the bedside table and pulled her hair back into a high ponytail.
Liddie’s lips flattened. “Really? Yesterday? I got a different vibe. He was all protective of you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I think he likes you.”
“Oh, silly girl. That’s his job.” Bridget secretly took pleasure in her sister’s observation. “He has no interest in me other than keeping me alive.” A worldly man like him would never look twice at a simple girl like her.
“We’ll see,” Liddie said, laughing.
“Stop. Ashley knew Zach from her childhood. Since he works for the Drug Enforcement Administration, she suggested we meet with him.” She waved her hand in dismissal.
“And still no word from Ashley?” Liddie asked, growing somber.
Bridget grabbed her cell phone from the desk. “No messages.” With her free hand, she flung open the room-darkening shades in an effort to dispel the gathering sense of doom surrounding the whereabouts of her friend.
“Zach will find her,” Liddie said, offering her encouragement.
Bridget sat down on the edge of the bed. “When we get home, please let me tell Mem and Dat.” This was her way of grasping onto the last bit of control.
“What should I say?” Liddie asked. “I can’t stand there like a dummy.”
“I’m not asking you to do that. Maybe leave out the bit about my apartment?” Bridget’s posture sagged. She turned, rested her chin on her shoulder and locked eyes with her sister. “That won’t work, will it?”
“Might be hard to explain why I don’t have any of my things.”
“The truth is best,” Bridget said, resigned.
Liddie flung the covers off her legs and crawled over to kneel on the bed next to Bridget. “Once you’re home, it’ll be like old times.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Bridget patted her sister’s hand.
“Elijah and Caleb will be so happy to see you. We’ve all missed you.”
Dread and longing twisted in Bridget’s stomach. “They must have grown so much.” Elijah was only eleven and Caleb seven when she left. She had resisted asking Liddie too many questions about her brothers prior to now, knowing that it would make her more homesick. However, today, she’d get to see them. “Elijah must be running wild himself nowadays. He’s sixteen.”
“He’s a good kid.” Liddie vibrated with excitement, making the mattress bounce. “They’ll be so happy to see you.”
“What happens when I leave again?”
“Maybe you’ll change your mind.” Liddie sounded so hopeful that it made Bridget more bummed.
“You have to get that idea out of your head. I have a good life here. I am going to graduate with my nursing degree next spring.”
Liddie squeezed Bridget’s hand. “You’re coming back with me to Hickory Lane today. That’s what counts.”
Bridget jerked her head back, not quite sure what to say. She couldn’t blame her sister for not feeling the same sense of apprehension. She didn’t know Ashley. Her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down. Before she had a chance to formulate a response, Liddie gave her sister a quick peck on the cheek, then bolted off the mattress toward the bathroom.
“Beat ya,” Liddie said before closing the door. The shower curtain hooks scraped across the metal pole and the faucet knobs screeched a fraction of a second before the old water pipes hummed to life.
Bridget released a strangled laugh. Leave it to Liddie. Bridget flopped back on her bed and tried to quiet her mind. She was going home. To Hickory Lane.
FIVE
Bridget’s family home was an easy drive west on the Thruway and another thirty minutes on back country roads south of Fredonia, New York. Zach had never explored this part of Western New York and had never heard of the small town of Hickory Lane. In the back seat, Liddie kept up her friendly banter until Bridget’s silence made it evident that she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
Their first stop was a store in the center of the small town of Hickory Lane. The women needed new clothes. Zach waited in the truck. When the sisters reemerged, he had to blink twice. Bridget was almost unrecognizable in her bonnet, gray dress and black boots.
Bringing her here for safekeeping had been a brilliant idea.
“All set?” Zach asked when they both climbed back into the truck.
“Yes,” Bridget said tersely. “Go straight and I’ll let you know when you need to turn.”
“Will do.” Zach pulled away from the curb.
“What is your plan once you drop us off?” Bridget asked. “How long before I can head back to Buffalo?”
“I don’t have any answers.”
“I thought you made some phone calls last night.” Bridget tapped her fingers nervously on the door.
“I did. The doctor’s wife claims he left on a golf outing yesterday after work and isn’t expected home for a few days.” Mrs. Ryan had been fuzzy on the details of her husband’s sudden trip, either purposely or unintentionally. Zach didn’t want to believe she knew what—if anything—her husband was up to. “An agent in my office is actively tracking him down.”
“And once your coworker finds him?”
“You realize it’s not that simple.” Zach slowed behind an Amish buggy. “Like I mentioned yesterday, it’s unlikely that he acted alone.” He sensed she kept asking the same question in hopes of getting a different answer.
“Bridget can stay in Hickory Lane as long as she needs to,” Liddie said optimistically from the back seat.
Bridget groaned. “If I stay, you’ll let me know the minute I can come back to Buffalo? Classes start a week from Monday.”
“Of course.” He rested his arm on the ledge of the open window and followed Bridget’s directions. Fields of corn swayed in the light breeze. The last time he had been out in the country, it had been to raid a meth lab in a double-wide. Drugs had no socioeconomic boundaries.
“There,” Liddie said from the back seat. “The house is the first one on the right.”
A well-maintained wood structure sat between a field of corn and trees. A dirt driveway ran back toward a red barn. Flower beds interrupted the luxurious
green lawn. Apparently, the Amish took pride in their homes, or at least the Miller family did.
“Pull over on the side of the road. My father won’t appreciate having your truck on his property,” Bridget said, her voice soft. “We can get out here.”
“I’m not going to drop you off and leave,” Zach said. “I need to make sure you’re settled.”
Bridget anxiously played with the folds in her long skirt. He followed her gaze out the front windshield. Someone dressed exactly like Bridget and Liddie was in the side yard pinning laundry to a clothesline. A row of matching pants and shirts flapped in the breeze on a parallel line.
“I’ll be safe here. No one knows about my Amish roots. I made sure of that.” A flash of defiance sparked in her brown eyes. “There’s no need for you to stay. You can reach me on my phone when you’ve taken care of everything.” She lifted up her smartphone, and the sunlight glinted off the screen, momentarily blinding him.
“Do you have a place to charge that?” he asked, feeling the full weight of Liddie’s uncharacteristic silence in the back seat.
“I’ll figure it out.” Bridget slipped it into the brown bag holding the clothes she had changed out of.
Zach smiled at Liddie over his shoulder. “Would you mind giving us a minute?”
“Yah, of course. It was nice to meet you,” Liddie said, her voice softer than it had been earlier. Perhaps the change in clothing had altered her personality somehow.
Zach smiled. “You too. Take care.”
“Wait for me at the bottom of the driveway. I don’t want to greet our parents alone,” Bridget said, the panic evident on her face.
The woman hanging clothes had now lifted her hand to shield her eyes to get a better look at the vehicle. He didn’t have long before they’d have company. “I don’t think you understand how much danger you’re in.”
Bridget’s eyes sparked with anger. “I don’t?” She practically spat out the words. “Do you think I’d uproot my life, put on this dress and return home because I’m in the mood for new scenery? I know what’s going on, and I need you to fix it. That’s why Ashley said we should call you. She said you could discreetly find out what was going on. That everything would be okay.” Tears filled her eyes, and the words that she had obviously been holding back filled the small space between them.
“I’m sorry everything went south.” Of course, Ashley would think he could make everything okay. Growing up as neighbors in the University District of Buffalo, Ashley and his sister had been inseparable since they met in kindergarten. A million times over his little sister had come to him for help and he took care of things—a flat bike tire, an empty belly, the bully on the playground. Until he deployed and left his little sister to figure things out on her own. She hadn’t been able to get a handle on her drug problem alone. He’d never forgive himself for leaving her with their mother, who couldn’t take care of herself, much less her daughter.
Zach shook away the memories crowding in on him. He may not have been there for Leann, but he was here now. If he knew one thing well, it was his job. His job. He didn’t exactly have that, right now, did he?
Through the rear window, Liddie could be seen pacing, her arms crossed tightly over the bib of her dress. “Please don’t be upset. We only met yesterday, and I know you have no reason to trust me.” He cleared his throat. “But you need to trust me. I have a lot of resources at my disposal.” The only people he ever trusted were people he worked with. “Dr. Ryan is only part of the problem. Once he’s in custody, there will most likely be others.”
“That only sounds a little bit reassuring.” Bridget rubbed her neck, then dropped her hand. “I didn’t mean to be rude.” Pink blossomed across the fair skin of her cheeks. “This is very stressful.”
“I understand. No need to apologize.”
“Okay,” she announced, seeming to have come to a decision. “I need to go. My mother won’t linger by the wash line forever.” Two rows of laundry flapped in the wind. Her mother had gone back to pinning identical brown shirts to the remaining line, shooting curious glances over her shoulder. “If my parents agree to let me stay, will you go? Your presence won’t he welcomed.” She laughed, a woeful sound. “I won’t exactly be welcomed, either, but at least I’m dressed the part.”
“Is there a hotel nearby?”
“You’re kidding me. You plan to stay in town?” She held out her palm. “I’ve never told anyone I’m Amish. How would they track me down here?”
“I’m not going to take the chance.”
Shaking her head, Bridget pushed open the door, climbed out and slammed the door. She walked up the driveway with her sister, and her new black boots kicked up a cloud of dust. From the back they could be twins.
Zach had handled all sorts of situations in his line of work: the dealer who tried to jackrabbit on him only to be hung up on the top of a barbed-wire fence, the time a woman threw her baby at him when they raided her apartment and the shootout at the pharmacy when the zing of a bullet whistled past his ear.
He suspected Miss Bridget Miller was going to prove to be equally challenging, in her own stubborn way.
* * *
Bridget and Liddie’s mem watched them approach, hands fisted and full of clothespins. A riot of emotions—shame, nostalgia, overwhelming love—heated Bridget’s face, and she found herself fidgeting with the strings of her bonnet. She’d never thought she’d be back in Hickory Lane, not dressed in plain clothes. What would she tell her family?
This is such a bad idea.
Stepping back onto her family’s farm had been like returning to her childhood. Nothing had changed since she left five years ago. Nothing had changed in a hundred years, for that matter.
The crisp scent of cornstalks, the fresh country air, the earthy fragrance—all felt like home.
Bridget stopped abruptly and grabbed her sister’s arm, panic setting her skin on fire. “I can’t do this.” It would be too hard to leave again.
Liddie smiled and patted her hand reassuringly. “Yah, you can. I’m here. And Mem is waiting. She’ll be so happy to see you. You can’t turn around now. You’ll break her heart.”
Memories from Bridget’s childhood rolled over her, some happy, some not. The most tumultuous time was the year, months, weeks and days leading up to her secret departure. She had been fraught with indecision. One of the hardest parts about leaving the Amish was not being able to say goodbye to her family. That’s not how it worked. When a person left, they left. No goodbye. No I’ll see you when you’re in town. None of that. Otherwise they would have talked her into staying. Guilted her into staying.
“Okay,” Bridget finally whispered. A conscious effort to relax did nothing to ease the knot tightening between her shoulder blades. Next to a clean blue dress billowing in the breeze, her mother tossed the clothespins in the basket and slowly lifted her work-worn hands to her mouth. Tears glistened in her eyes. Bridget’s heart softened. “Mem.” The single word came out on a squeak.
“Wilkum.” Welcome. Her mother held out her hands. Bridget fought the urge to run into her mother’s arms and accept the warm homecoming, not wanting to give the older woman false hope. Her mother’s heart had been broken. She couldn’t do that to her all over again. It wouldn’t be fair. “Wie bischt?” How are you?
“Ich bin gut.” I am well. An automatic reply from her childhood in a language she hadn’t used since she left. A rush of adrenaline made her grow dizzy. She took a step backward. “This was a mistake,” Bridget whispered so only Liddie could hear. Behind her, the sunlight reflected on the windshield of Zach’s truck. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his gaze. She was trapped between her past and an uncertain future.
“You’re home.” Her mother’s soft voice washed over her. So familiar. Soothing. The woman who had cleaned her scrapes, wiped away her tears, first made her love the idea of taking care of other
s.
“Mem, Bridget needs a place to stay,” Liddie said. “I told her she should come home.” Her sister plowed forward, needing to explain, not giving Mem a chance to say no, and trying to keep Bridget from fleeing to the getaway vehicle sitting a hundred-yard dash away. Even if their gentle mother welcomed her home, their father wouldn’t be quite so quick to forgive. Not unless Bridget asked for forgiveness. Returned to the Amish ways and followed the rules of the Ordnung. Another wave of emotion made Bridget’s stomach flip.
As if on cue, a deep voice bellowed from behind her. “What’s going on?” Dat. “Why is she here? This is unacceptable.”
Bridget fisted her hands, bracing herself as she turned around. Her father’s dark gaze, glaring out from under his straw hat, pinned her. A look so familiar, she still saw it in her dreams—nightmares. A thousand emotions rained down on her, taking her back to her tumultuous teenage years when she still believed she had no choice but to accept the Amish ways and give up her dreams of becoming a nurse. Tears threatened, and she clenched her teeth. She would not cry in front of her family. She couldn’t give them any ammunition to suggest she was sorry. That she was wrong.
Was she?
Was her current mess of a life a reflection of all the bad choices she had made? Was God punishing her?
She felt her sweet mem’s gaze on her. How she loved that woman. Then she locked gazes with her sister. “I can’t do this.” She grabbed the fabric of her long skirt and ran toward the truck, forcing back the threatening tears. As she approached the truck, she tore off her kapp. She reached for the passenger handle and yanked the door open. She couldn’t read the expression on Zach’s face, dark like her father’s, and something else...
“I’m not staying.” Bridget climbed in, reached behind her and yanked the seat belt forward and clicked it in place.
