Seeking Amish Shelter

by Alison Stone

  “A sign that, what, you’re supposed to move back to Hickory Lane?” Zach took a step back and held out his arms. She had definitely hit a sore spot.

  Bridget dropped her hands into her lap. “Yes. It’s like God wanted to show me how truly dangerous the outside world was. That I should have never left the Amish. It was selfish of me to only consider my own wants.” All the thoughts that had been swirling around her head came pouring out.

  Zach drew closer and crouched down next to Bridget, clasping his hands between his knees. “I’m not the best person to be talking about God and what He wants. I’m not willing to consider this forgiveness angle you’re trying to sell—” he laughed, a mirthless sound “—but I believe those who choose to go into nursing are hardly the selfish sort.”

  Bridget lifted her gaze to meet his. “It’s hard to feel like I’m doing the right thing when my entire world is imploding.” She dragged her pinched fingers down the length of the string on her bonnet. “Maybe my life would be less complicated if I stayed here.” Was she just looking for someone to tell her what to do?

  He gently tapped the back of her hand with his clasped hands. “Do you really believe that? Would you be happy?”

  Bridget pressed her lips tighter. “Life is not about happiness. It’s about being selfless. About caring for others.”

  “You’ve described nursing,” Zach said, his voice gravelly, like the small pebbles sliding under the heels of her boot.

  “I’ve missed my family.” Sitting here by the pond, she could almost see her younger brothers horsing around, skimming rocks. Proclaiming themselves to be the winner. A hollowness expanded in her chest. “Until I walked into the coffee shop and met you, I hadn’t taken more than a minute to look up from my books. Now that that’s all been stripped from me, I realize I have nothing else.”

  “You have me.” The openness on his face suggested he was baring his soul.

  It was Bridget’s turn to smile sadly. “I don’t have you.” Her pulse beat wildly, making her own words sound faraway in her ears. She flinched, as if the notion was ridiculous. “Besides,” she quickly backtracked, “you’ll soon go on to another case. Your life is undercover. Pretending to be someone else.”

  Zach jerked back, almost losing his balance in his crouched position. He straightened and looked out toward the water, then he looked back at her. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing? Pretending?”

  Bridget lowered her head, heat stinging her cheeks. “We’ve known each other for less than a week. None of this can be real.”

  * * *

  Zach and Bridget walked back to the farm in silence. Her stinging words gave him pause. Were his feelings a product of everything they both had been through? Her carefully crafted world had suddenly spun out of control, and his all-or-nothing undercover assignments had sent him on a path of self-destruction a long time ago. He hadn’t been real with himself—with anyone—for a very long time. It took practice to suppress who you really were to pretend to be someone else when you were undercover. No one said he wasn’t good at his job.

  Probably too good.

  Had he reached for Bridget because he was drowning? Needed a lifeline? Wanted to know what it would be like to be a part of someone’s life? Someone who was so genuine. So real. But how was that fair to her?

  “I thought maybe you fell in,” Bridget’s grandfather joked when they got back.

  “No, I was enjoying the pond. I’ve missed this place.” There was a wistful quality to her voice that made Zach wonder if she were truly considering staying.

  “I got seven skips the other day,” Caleb joined in enthusiastically. He and his grandfather were the only two still sitting by the picnic table.

  “You must have taken lessons from your sister,” Zach said.

  Bridget’s eyes widened a fraction, recognizing his compliment was meant to break the dark mood surrounding them ever since their heart-to-heart discussion.

  “No way,” Caleb replied, oblivious to the exchange between Zach and Bridget. “I taught her everything she knows.”

  “He did.” Bridget gently patted her brother’s cheek, seemingly lost in thought.

  “Well,” Zach said, “I better hit the road before Jeremiah assigns me any more chores.” He turned to the elderly man. “Thanks for putting me up.”

  “I appreciated your help today,” Jeremiah said, running a hand down his beard. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been able to climb a ladder.”

  “No problem,” Zach said. He enjoyed the simplicity of the tasks and a job completed without any complications.

  “I better see if Liddie needs any help in the kitchen,” Bridget suddenly blurted out. Splotches of pink blossomed on her cheeks. “If I’m going to be staying here, I need to pull my weight.” She clapped her hands together and bowed her head slightly. “Thanks for everything. I trust you’ll keep me apprised of...” she seemed to be searching for the right word “...everything.”

  “Sure.” Zach hated how awkward everything suddenly felt. Before he had a chance to smooth things over, she spun around and jogged toward the house.

  “Why don’t you go help your sister, Caleb?” Jeremiah suggested.

  “In the kitchen?” He seemed horrified.

  “Or I could find more gutters for you.” Jeremiah gave his grandson a pointed stare.

  “All right...” The boy’s shoulders sagged, and he ran after his sister.

  “I’m going to change and then head out.” Zach slipped into the dawdy haus and a few minutes later returned to find Jeremiah waiting for him.

  “It wonders me why you’re so quick to leave,” Jeremiah said.

  “There’s been a development.”

  “Oh.” The older gentleman seemed to consider this for a moment. “I hope this means my granddaughter will be safe.”

  “I’ll make sure she’s safe, sir.”

  “Seems like a hard thing to do if you’re in Buffalo and she’s in Hickory Lane.”

  The screen door slammed, and Caleb ran outside, followed by Elijah. The older brother grabbed a volleyball and lobbed it over the net set up on the far side of the property.

  “She’s safe here,” Zach said.

  Jeremiah made a noncommittal sound. “Bridget’s a lot like me. Not sure she knows it. I don’t talk much about my youth. She’s got a restless spirit.” He stared off into the middle distance, considering something, then he snapped his attention back to Zach. “She’s a good kid, and she needs to follow her own path.”

  “Yes, I’ve come to see that in the short time that I’ve known her.” Zach swatted at a mosquito that landed on the back of his hand.

  Jeremiah waved a weathered hand. “When this situation is under control, you need to convince Bridget to go back to school. Become a nurse.”

  Zach glanced back at the house, then at Jeremiah. “That’s not my job.” He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate his interference anyway, especially if she didn’t believe it was genuine. Had he truly lost sight of himself with all the years of being undercover?

  “Did your job require that you clean out my gutters?”

  Zach laughed. Nothing got past Jeremiah Smucker. The screen door creaked open again, and Bridget appeared, drying her hands on her apron. She lingered a moment, then slipped back inside.

  Jeremiah limped toward his little house. “Come in for some tea.”

  Zach hated to refuse the kindly old man. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  The two men settled in at the small kitchen table. Jeremiah was the first to speak. “When I was a little younger than Bridget, I left Hickory Lane. Made it all the way to Wyoming. Worked on a ranch for two years. It was beautiful country. Mountains. Landscape like I’ve never seen.”

  “Why’d you come back?”

  “Word got to me that my father died, and my mother wasn’t well enough to take ca
re of the farm. Since I was the oldest, my siblings were looking to me to help.” He patted his thigh. “I had saved up a tidy sum working on the ranch. I came back and saved the farm, as they say. Started courting my Sarah...” He held out his hand in a sweeping gesture. “And here we are.”

  Through the window, the men watched the young Miller boys by the volleyball court. Caleb spent more time chasing the ball than lobbing it over the net. Elijah shifted his weight from foot to foot in frustration or boredom, maybe a little of both.

  “I’m happy I came back. This is where I was meant to be.”

  “I don’t understand.” Zach took a sip of his tea, then set his mug back down. “You’re happy here. Why are you asking me to convince Bridget to leave?”

  “Bridget is meant to be a nurse. She won’t be content here.”

  Zach nodded. “Okay... I’ll do what I can once it’s safe for her to come home.” He didn’t know what else to say. “Does Bridget know about your adventures?”

  “Neh.” Jeremiah palmed his pipe. “It’s something best not discussed. I need to lead by example. You understand.”

  Zach nodded.

  Seemingly satisfied, Jeremiah scooted away from the table and returned with two pieces of pie. “Figured you’d like something sweet.”

  Zach picked up his fork. “Looks great.” The two men ate and chatted like old friends. After a while, Zach asked, “Do you ever wonder about the life not lived?” Zach often wondered that himself. How different would things be for him, his sister, his mother. Drugs had infiltrated the lives of all those he loved and changed them irrevocably. His poor, sweet sister had died of an overdose, and he spent a life pretending he was someone he wasn’t to catch drug dealers.

  “There’s no sense in doing that at my age. I’ve had a good life. Gott had a plan. He’s blessed me with a wonderful family. I wouldn’t change a thing.” He smooshed a few crumbs that had fallen on the table with his finger, then dropped them on his plate. “I might have to deny this if you share what I’m about to say with the bishop. The Amish are a good people. A godly people. But I know in my heart that there are good, Gott-fearing people out there.” He lifted his hand, indicating the general “out there.” He smiled slowly. A wariness lingered in his eyes. “I love Bridget. I’d love her to stay in Hickory Lane, but I feel Gott has called her to be a nurse so she can help people.” He looked at Zach expectantly. “Did she tell you how she decided she wanted to be a nurse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then you know how important it is.” He nodded his head slowly. “If it’s within your power, make sure Bridget doesn’t give up on that dream.”

  “Not sure I have that kind of power.”

  “I’ve seen you with her.”

  Zach wanted to protest, but this man didn’t miss much.

  “You care about her,” Jeremiah added.

  “I do,” Zach admitted. “She’s an incredible woman.” He frowned. “I’m afraid our careers are going to take us in completely different directions.”

  “They don’t have to.” Jeremiah’s matter-of-fact tone gave Zach pause.

  Zach slowly pushed back from the table, feeling uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation. “It’s getting late.”

  “You’re good company.”

  “So are you.” Zach smiled. He genuinely liked Bridget’s grandfather. He’d miss him when this was all over.

  “But you’re not very smart.”

  Zach laughed. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  Jeremiah reached for his cane propped up near the table. He made no effort to stand. “There’s an old Amish saying, ‘A man is never old until his regrets outnumber his dreams.’”

  I must be very, very old. Zach kept the thought to himself. No sense spoiling a great day.

  THIRTEEN

  When Bridget first wandered outside on the porch, she hadn’t realized Zach was still there. When she saw him chatting with her grandfather, she found herself doing an about-face and slipped back inside. The mention of her name made her pause at the screen door. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Her grandfather didn’t exactly have what she heard some of her fellow nursing students call an indoor voice.

  “When this situation is under control, you need to convince Bridget to go back to school. Become a nurse.” A wave of heat washed over her. Her grandfather’s request baffled her. Zach had no authority over her. Why would he ask that of him? Didn’t her grandfather want her to be baptized and stay in Hickory Lane?

  Later, while Bridget was reading on the back porch, she was surprised to see Zach just then leaving the dawdy haus. Bridget tossed her book aside and strode across the yard to meet the DEA agent who had come into her life only recently and turned everything upside down. Or, more fairly, her life had been turned upside down not coincidentally at the same time she met him.

  “Hi.” His brown eyes seemed to warm at her presence.

  “Hi. You’re all set?” Bridget asked, suddenly feeling foolish because they had already said their goodbyes.

  Zach patted his bag. “Yes, all set.” His eyes twitched a fraction. “You want to walk over to my truck with me?”

  Bridget glanced over her shoulder at her parents’ house, feeling like she needed permission, even though that was ridiculous. “Sure. You and my grandfather had a long visit.”

  “He’s a nice man.”

  “He is.”

  They crossed the field in silence; flecks of mud splashed up on her boots. The words she really needed to say clung to the back of her throat, making each second feel precious. Finally, when they stepped onto the neighbor’s gravel driveway, where Zach’s truck was parked, she turned to face him. “I feel like I put my foot in my mouth by the pond. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I had no right.” Now that she’d found the words, they spilled out. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

  “It’s my job.” He popped open the tailgate and tossed his duffel bag under the tonneau cover. He must have sensed her mood, because he turned and said, “We’re going to figure this out. You’re going to be able to come back to Buffalo and finish school.”

  There it is.

  Bridget glanced down at her boots, then up at him. “I heard part of your conversation with my grandfather. Your voices carried across the yard and through the screen door.” Her face flushed hot again. “It’s not your job to make sure I pursue my dream. I don’t want that weight on you. I made my own choices when...well, from the time I first sat down at Dr. Ryan’s computer. I could have looked the other way. My job was nearing its end. I could have gone back to school quietly. It would have been so much easier,” she muttered. Her stomach knotted at the reality of it all. “I made my own choices, and I’ll work through the consequences.”

  Zach reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Her skin singed under his touch. “I’m not going to abandon you. I’m going to put whoever’s involved in this in jail and make sure you’re free to do whatever you want in life.” A small smile flashed on his lips. He seemed to hesitate a moment, then took a step back.

  Bridget took a step forward. She planted her hand on his chest and leaned up on her tiptoes. They locked eyes for the briefest of moments before she leaned in and kissed him. He wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her close. She grew more confident from his strength.

  Reluctantly, she broke off the kiss. “I wanted to let you know that I didn’t think you were pretending. I’m not pretending, either. I really like you, but we both know life is pulling us in different directions.” She reached behind her and removed his arm and stepped out of his embrace.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice husky. “I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you get back to school. Become a nurse.”

  Bridget looked up at him and squinted against the late-afternoon sun, its beams diffused through the nearby trees. “I’m
not your responsibility.” Like your sister wasn’t.

  “I care about you...” Zach took a step closer and cupped her cheek. This time she didn’t back away. She took a step closer, and he kissed her gently on the lips. She rested her head on his solid chest. If only they had met under different circumstances. He pressed her close to him. A door opening sounded close by. The neighbors.

  Bridget stepped back, a twinge of embarrassment snaking its way through the momentary feelings of warmth, connection.

  “Let me drive you home,” he said.

  Bridget shook her head. “It’s only across the field.” She smiled. “I’m safe here.”

  Bridget watched him climb into his truck, then she turned to stroll across the field, wondering if she’d ever feel as safe as she had in his arms.

  * * *

  The entire drive back to Buffalo, Zach couldn’t get the thought of Bridget’s soft lips out of his mind. His last memory of her was her long dress blowing in the wind and her shielding her eyes from the sun before she turned to cut across the field to go home. He had no business getting involved with someone who was part of his investigation. Technically, you’re on leave. That argument didn’t squash his concern that she was Amish. They could never be together. No, she wasn’t Amish. She was hiding among the Amish.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could clear his head. Figure this out.

  The kiss had been innocent. Yet he had never crossed the line while working on a case. Hadn’t he? Well, never romantically. Bridget was straddling two worlds; he could read the indecision in her eyes. And his work was his world. One undercover case after another. He had created a life where having a family was next to impossible. He laughed to himself. The two of them made a pair, both trying to figure out where they fit in the world.

  Zach had spent most of his life pretending he was someone he wasn’t: a dealer, a junkie in need of a fix, the lookout. A guy could get lost in all the pretending. Bridget hadn’t been wrong in suggesting he was good at it.