Her Forgotten Amish Past

by Debby Giusti

  “A boy from the mountain. He helps Hattie at times.”

  “Did a man from the studio talk to you about renting land on which to film?”

  “Larry Landers stopped by yesterday. Hattie rejected his offer.”

  Willie nodded. “Hattie made a wise decision. I told him my farm was not to be used for Englischer movies. He did not like my answer.”

  “He does not understand the Amish way.”

  “That is for certain. The bishop should talk to the studio manager so they understand us better.”

  “You tell the bishop what he needs to do, Willie. He will listen to you.”

  “He will listen to his son if you speak to him, Zeke.”

  Shaking his head, Zeke moved closer to the buggy. “Good to see you, Willie.”

  “Good to have you back on Amish Mountain, Ezekiel. A man is not held responsible for what he does in his youth before baptism, yah?”

  “Perhaps you think that way. Some do not. Leaving the community was a grievous wrong as far as my datt was concerned.”

  “Time has passed. Things change.”

  “The seasons change, but my father’s heart remains the same.”

  “Take care of yourself, Zeke.”

  “You, as well.”

  He climbed into the buggy and turned the mare back to the road. Becca remained silent as if she were truly that Amish boy, who lived on the mountain.

  From what Ezekiel had said, the disagreement with his father was more than a family squabble. At least Zeke knew who he was and what had happened in his past.

  Was Becca caught in the middle of a family squabble? She didn’t belong to the Troyers who lived at the foot of Amish Mountain. Was there another family to whom she was related? Had someone from that Troyer family chased after her? Could that be the same man who had come after her today or were they two different people? She cringed thinking of terrible scenarios that could be part of her forgotten life.

  * * *

  After leaving the Troyer farm, Zeke guided the mare onto the main road, heading to Willkommen. The town would be bustling today and hopefully something or someone would trigger Becca’s memory. He needed to be careful. Keeping Becca safe was his top priority.

  “Evidently Troyer is not my last name,” she said with a sigh.

  “Troyer is a common Amish name. You are not part of that Troyer family, but there are others. The sheriff may know of a missing person report.”

  “I... I do not want to involve the authorities.”

  He glanced at her, seeing the concern that troubled her gaze. Was she wary of law enforcement because of her past? Or was she just being cautious?

  “It is an option, Becca, and perhaps the fastest way to get information. I will be discreet.”

  “But you will not tell a lie.”

  “You know this about me?” he asked, surprised that she would make such a statement.

  “You are a gut man, Ezekiel. I have seen how attentive you are to Hattie. I do not wish you to do anything against your will because of me.”

  “I would never lie, but all details do not need to be revealed, yah?”

  She smiled and nodded. “You’re right.”

  “You do not need to worry, Becca.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “Ah, but now you stretch the truth. I see it in your eyes. You fear what you might learn today.”

  “Suppose I am married to a hateful man? Suppose he tried to hurt me? Suppose...suppose I have children.”

  “Would you leave children behind to save yourself?”

  “Never.”

  “See, you have answered the question for yourself. You were running away from something, and yes, it could be from a husband. But you did not leave children behind. I am certain of this.”

  Becca’s faint sigh of relief warmed his heart and made him see the folly of his own thoughts that she could be involved in something suspect. She was not the woman from his past. Irene had never been content on the mountain or with her own life. She always wanted more and was fascinated with the allure of the world. He had been young and fickle back then, not realizing the qualities he desired in a woman.

  And Becca? his inner voice questioned.

  Was she a desirable woman?

  He flicked the reins, not yet ready to answer such a query. Not until he knew more about the real Becca Troyer.

  SEVEN

  Becca’s heart pounded with apprehension as they drove into town. Shops lined the streets and people milled about on the sidewalks. Buggies were everywhere, along with Amish women in long dresses and white bonnets, ushering their children across the pedestrian walkways at various intersections. Bearded men wearing wide-brimmed hats guided their horses along the busy thoroughfares and turned into vacant lots at the rear of the businesses where the horses would be tethered while the families shopped.

  “So many people are in town today,” Becca said breathlessly, trying to take in all the activity around her.

  “There is a cattle auction. Many of the farmers come to town and bring their families. They shop and then bid on cattle so the trip serves more than one purpose.”

  “The children are not in school?”

  “Today there is no school because of the auction.”

  She glanced right and then left, all the while studying faces, the young, the old, men, women, Amish, Englisch.

  “Drive more slowly, Zeke. I want to see everything.” There were so many people, and she feared missing the one person who would open up the past to her.

  Zeke tugged back ever so lightly on the reins. The mare responded. “The cattle auction is on one of the side streets. We will drive there first.” Zeke guided Sophie onto a more narrow road and then into the expansive complex that included an open-air pavilion and a large building with a sign over the door that read Cattle Auction.

  Horses were tethered to hitching posts in front and rows of buggies lined the grassy knoll to the rear of the complex. A horse barn sat nearby.

  Men chatted amicably in the central asphalt area. Young boys stood near their fathers and matched their own stances to the older men’s. Women grouped together with the young children, and girls chatted nearby.

  “Is there a flea market today?” Becca asked, reading the sign on the pavilion that mentioned the market.

  “It is held once a month on the first Wednesday. We can come back then. I thought today might provide an opportunity to search for your family.”

  If only the search would be productive.

  “See anything that looks familiar?” he asked.

  She shook her head and tried to shrug off the discouragement that weighed her down as if a hundred-pound sack of potatoes rested on her shoulders.

  “There is more to explore,” Zeke assured her as he guided the mare toward the auction exit that returned them to the street.

  Drivers in passing buggies waved, and Zeke nodded in response. Becca was careful to lower her eyes whenever anyone stared at her too intently. Thankfully most of the people were not interested in a young boy.

  “The sheriff’s office is on the next block,” Zeke said.

  “I do not want to stop there.”

  “We will pass by.”

  Her stomach churned. In the distance, she saw the sign for the sheriff’s department. A number of men stood on the sidewalk, all with broad shoulders and thick necks. Could one of them have been the man chasing her? Was he there now, telling the sheriff about his missing wife or daughter or sister?

  Glancing down a side road, Becca’s chest tightened. She tapped Ezekiel’s hand. “Look to your right. Is that the same van that passed us on the road earlier?”

  Zeke peered at the vehicle. “Perhaps. Although the studio seems to have a number of vans. No telling who drove that particular vehicle to town.”

  R
eturning her gaze to the sheriff’s office, she spied the tall, muscular man from yesterday, wearing a jacket that bore the Montcliff Studio logo.

  She nudged Zeke.

  “Yah,” he said. “That is Larry Landers, who stopped by Hattie’s farm.”

  “And the Troyer place.”

  Zeke nodded. “I do not think he will find any Amish farmers agreeing to give him access to their land.”

  Landers stared at Zeke and then flicked his gaze to Becca as the buggy passed the sheriff’s office. Her mouth went dry, and a roar filled her ears. Something about his expression unsettled her.

  She glanced away, trying to mimic a disinterested youth. Heat burned her cheeks, and she hoped her flushed face would not bring more scrutiny either to herself or to Ezekiel.

  Grateful when Zeke turned at the next intersection, she glanced back. The man was still staring at the buggy.

  Was there a connection between her and Larry Landers? Troubled as she was, Becca refused to share her concern with Zeke. If she did not understand her own feelings, he would not, as well.

  Besides, she was probably overreacting. The man had startled her as he drove down the mountain, going much too fast. Surely that was the reason for her unrest. That and nothing else.

  Then she thought of him watching Hattie’s house with binoculars. The sweet Amish woman had told Becca to be careful, which meant she needed to keep her eyes on Landers. She didn’t want to be taken by surprise and forced to flee for her life again.

  * * *

  Zeke guided the buggy through a number of side streets, hoping to trigger Becca’s memory. “Do you see anything that brings back memories?”

  She shook her head and sighed. “Nothing that I can recognize. What if this trip to town provides no clues to my past and turns out to be a waste of time?”

  “Do not get discouraged, Becca. There is more to see. Besides, one clue could open up your past. We will not give up this soon.”

  At the next intersection, Zeke spied Larry Landers climbing from a studio van now parked farther down the street. He hurried into an office building. “Mr. Landers must have business in town.”

  “He seems to be everywhere, which worries me, Zeke.”

  “Do not let him concern you, Becca. He is probably still looking for that perfect location for the filming.”

  “We spoke of it earlier, but it does seem strange to have a movie studio in an Amish community,” Becca said.

  “What was once unheard of becomes the norm. It is the way of the Englisch world. We Amish keep our lives the same and trace our traditions back hundreds of years. There is something good about that consistency.”

  “It sounds as if you do not welcome change.”

  He thought of the new woman who had stumbled into his life.

  Before he had a chance to answer, Becca added, “Sometimes things change without us wanting them to do so.”

  He understood her upset. “Your memory will return, Becca.”

  He leaned closer. “Glance down the street. Do you see anything familiar? Or do you recognize anyone?”

  Slowly she studied the shops and the people who walked along the street and then turned back to Zeke. “I recognize no one except you.”

  She glanced again at the studio van parked by the curb. “But something about the logo on the van tugs at my memory.”

  “You saw Landers at Hattie’s house. He is a man one does not forget, especially as he asserts what he thinks is his authority.”

  Zeke encouraged Sophie through an intersection. “Remember too that Landers has been stopping at farms in the area. Perhaps he stopped at the farm where you lived. You could have seen him there.”

  “If that is true, it means my home is not far from here.” She scrunched down lower in the seat. “If so, someone might recognize me.”

  Seeing the concern on her face, he dropped his voice, hoping to reassure her once again. “You are dressed in men’s clothing. No one will make the connection.”

  She nodded and started to say something, then stopped as they passed two men on the sidewalk. They both wore the Montcliff Studio logo on their jackets.

  “Caleb mentioned the studio was filming in town,” Zeke said. “Perhaps that is the reason so many movie people are here today.”

  Becca glanced at the men. “I don’t recognize either of them.”

  “Does the logo on their jackets bring back memories?”

  “Not like the van parked on the street. Perhaps it is the van and not the logo.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Could we drive around the countryside before returning to Hattie’s farm?” she asked. “If Larry Landers did stop at my home, then I must live close to Amish Mountain.”

  “This we can do after we have seen everything in town.”

  He turned onto another street and pulled up on the reins, bringing Sophie to a stop. The entire block was cordoned off by a wooden fence, more than fifteen feet tall, that prevented anyone from seeing into the enclosed area.

  Signs tacked to the fencing read Montcliff Studio. Filming in Progress. A number of men dressed in navy blue uniforms patrolled the outside of the giant barricade. Montcliff Security was stamped on their jackets.

  “Montcliff Studio likes privacy,” Becca said. “They put up fencing so no one can see what’s going on at the filming.”

  Zeke nodded. “This is a first for Willkommen.”

  He spied one of the deputies that worked for the sheriff’s department standing farther down the street. Zeke had known Mike Frazier in his youth.

  “There is a hitching post behind the leather goods store,” Zeke told Becca. “I will leave you there with the buggy while I talk to Deputy Frazier. He has only recently started working for the sheriff’s department.”

  Becca grabbed his hand. “I told you I do not want to involve law enforcement.”

  “I will not reveal anything about you, Becca, but I need to let someone at the sheriff’s office know about the roadblock. This is not something we want to face again. I also will ask about any missing person reports.”

  “And what if the deputy suspects I’m the person who’s missing?”

  “Trust me, Becca. Mike Frazier is a gut man.”

  The expression on her face told him she had a hard time trusting anyone. Truth be told, he could understand her concern about involving law enforcement. With no memory about her past and knowing she had been running away, Becca had to be careful.

  Zeke guided the mare to the rear of the building where a number of other rigs were parked. He climbed down from the buggy and tied the reins to the post. “Stay here, Becca. I will be back shortly.”

  He hurried to the main street and waved a greeting. “Gut to see you, Mike. I heard you were working for the sheriff.” Zeke smiled as he approached his friend.

  “News travels even to Amish Mountain. What brings you to town, Zeke?”

  “My aunt had some need of provisions, and I wanted to check out the cattle auction later today.”

  “I hear Hattie’s farm is making a turnaround with your management.”

  Zeke shrugged off the compliment. “A woman of years living alone cannot do the work of a younger man. I am happy to help, and she provides a room and food that will make me fat if I do not curb my appetite.”

  Mike chuckled. “My father always said Hattie was the best cook in the area.”

  “How is your father?”

  “Getting more and more infirmed. He’s living at the assisted living center in town. With me working various shifts, there was no one at home to take care of him. His balance is not good and his mind is starting to wander. I worried about his safety in the hours that I was away from the house.”

  “It is hard to know what to do, yah?”

  “I saw your dad last week when I took my father to the doctor.”

/>   Zeke’s heart hitched. “My datt needed medical care?”

  “Even the Amish get sick, Zeke.”

  “Yet my father has not been one to visit Englisch doctors.”

  “One gets older and wiser with years. He said it was a routine visit.”

  Even the mention of a routine visit did not ease Zeke’s concern about his father’s well-being. They had been estranged for two years, but the father-son bond would remain forever, even if his father was not interested in having a relationship with his wayward son.

  “Montcliff Studio is a big attraction today,” Zeke said, pointing to the giant fences.

  “They’re filming in town all this week, which means more traffic. Everyone wants to see a movie star. Thankfully, they’ve got their own security folks, but the sheriff’s department is working overtime to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

  “Any problems?”

  Mike shook his head. “Everything has been peaceful and that makes me happy.”

  Zeke thought of the woman who had disrupted his own peace. He had to be careful about what he said to the deputy. Zeke needed information, but he did not want to cause Becca harm.

  “I stopped at Troyer’s farm on my way to town today,” Zeke said. “Hattie heard one of Willie’s relatives was missing, but Willie Troyer said it was no one he knew. You have perhaps learned something about a missing person?”

  Mike rubbed his chin. “No word on any Troyers. A man from Montcliff Studio stopped in and mentioned the star of the film they’re working on left the area for a bit. He seemed concerned but didn’t want to file a missing person report.”

  Zeke stepped closer. “Why would he tell you this?”

  The deputy shrugged. “He acted as if he wanted information.”

  Which was what Zeke wanted, as well. “Did he tell you the name of the missing movie star?”

  “Vanessa Harrington. He showed me her picture. She’s a looker. Evidently married, but she’s been separated from her husband for the last few months. The studio thinks she returned home, yet she’s not answering her cell phone. The studio producer flew to California in hopes of bringing her back here to complete the film.”