by Debby Giusti
She couldn’t allow her heart free rein, like he was giving to the mare, when she had a whole history she needed to uncover.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her hand over her stomach, hoping to ease the unrest she felt.
Zeke was right in taking her to his friend’s house. She couldn’t live in this twilight world not knowing who she was and what had happened to her. She needed information, and the only way to learn about her past was to confront it head-on, no matter what she uncovered, and no matter who she had been or what had happened to her.
TEN
Zeke was growing more confused by the hour. Having Becca in his arms earlier had sent his emotions into a wild spiral so that he felt out of control and unsure of who he was or what was right about his life. Becca’s expression proved she was equally confused.
Larry Landers and an actor had chased after her today. Two men running after Becca only doubled the problem. Add the man at Hattie’s house and man who had chased her the first night and the number rose to four.
After Irene’s death, he had promised himself to live a quiet life, working hard on Hattie’s farm and staying away from anything that might pull him astray.
Yet here he was again, drawn to another woman, a woman who made his heart race and his chest constrict whenever she drew close. Like now.
Becca had snuggled next to him when they had first climbed into the buggy. Her nearness had made his heart warm. Then something had happened—was it something he had said?—and she had slipped away from him.
His father had warned him of fickle women who would steal his heart and leave him in the lurch, so tied up in knots that he would do anything to be with them. Case in point, Irene. He had been smitten by her charms, but he was young then and unknowing in the ways of love and the world.
He focused on the road ahead, needing to calm his upset and focus on finding information about Becca. He had to be firm and not let himself be drawn into another woman’s drama, especially a woman who was clueless about her past. Or was Becca pretending to know nothing about the men who had chased after her?
He wanted to believe her, but he had been burned before. He would not play with fire again.
Going to the Gingerich farm was probably another mistake. He had made too many. Irene’s father had accused him of causing his daughter’s death. Losing a child was the greatest tragedy a person would ever have to endure, and if Levi Gingerich wanted to believe Zeke had caused Irene’s death, he would allow the older man to wallow in the untruth. What good would it do to reveal that his daughter had died in a meth lab explosion, and that Zeke had carried her from the cabin and tried to save her life?
Zeke would not repeat the memory that was so painful and so tragic. Nor would her father accept what Zeke said. He was intent on blaming Zeke for his daughter’s mistakes.
Levi Gingerich did not need to know the truth. And Zeke did not need to cause anyone more pain. Not Irene’s father, not Caleb or his own father...and certainly not Becca.
When all this was over, Zeke would leave the area and find a new Amish community. Surely, someone would need an extra farmhand to help with the livestock and crops. He could trade his work for room and board. Gott would provide. At least, he hoped He would.
Zeke guided the mare onto a narrow dirt path that led from the main paved roadway.
“Hold on,” he cautioned as they jostled back and forth.
Becca grabbed the side of the seat and then scooted away from the edge, as if fearing she would fall from the buggy.
“Levi needs to fill in the ruts,” he told her. “The farm might be in as much disrepair as the access road.”
Zeke’s hunch was right. Rounding the next bend, he spied the Gingerich farm in the distant twilight. The house, a two-story, white sideboard with a front and back porch, listed as if pulled by the wind and gave evidence of needing refurbishment and repair. The fence posts had rotted and some appeared ready to topple over so that Zeke wondered how the livestock were contained, although when he searched the hillside, he saw only a few head of cattle. The fields looked barren and not because of a fall harvest. They appeared to have lain fallow for more than one planting season.
Uneasy about what he saw, Zeke turned the mare onto the path leading to the house and pulled to a stop near the back porch.
“Stay in the buggy,” he told Becca under his breath.
Her eyes were wide as she took in the run-down farmhouse.
A few chickens pecked at the ground, searching for some morsel to eat, a bug or worm or piece of grain. Glancing at the barn, he spied the chicken coop with torn wire that would allow a hungry fox or coyote to take the chickens and their eggs.
Zeke had not seen Mr. Gingerich since the day he had returned to Amish Mountain. He had come here that afternoon to offer his condolences to Irene’s grieving father. Only, he had been run off with a shotgun and Levi Gingerich’s anger and the warning that he would shoot Zeke the next time he stepped foot on his land.
Hopefully, the old man had mellowed with time.
As Zeke hopped down from the buggy, the door of the house opened and the barrel of a rifle poked through the opening.
Mr. Gingerich stood in the threshold of the door. His eyes narrowed, and a sneer tugged at his thin lips.
“Get outta here, you varmint. Did you forget what I told you the last time I saw you?”
Zeke took a step forward. “No, sir. I remember, but I need to talk to your son.”
“You killed my daughter. Now you plan to harm Caleb? Stay away from him so he doesn’t wind up dead like Irene.”
“Mr. Gingerich, I need to talk to Caleb about the movie studio where he works.”
“You Amish don’t want me to rent my land. You’re trying to undermine my business agreement with the studio, just like your bishop dad.”
Zeke’s gut tightened. “You talked to my datt?”
The older man nodded. “He does not want the movie people in the area. None of the Amish are happy about the venture. They usually keep to themselves, but this time, the Amish are taking a stand.”
He stepped onto the porch, the rifle still raised and aimed at Zeke. “Tell your father that I will not change the contract. The studio will stay whether he and his church district like it or not.”
Zeke held up a hand. “That’s not the reason I’m here.”
The old man’s eyes widened. “Then state your business before I decide to fill you with lead.”
“It has to do with whether Montcliff Studio hires the Amish. Did Caleb mention seeing Amish employees at the studio?”
“Why would the Amish have anything to do with the movie industry?”
“That is what I am trying to determine, Mr. Gingerich.”
“He’s working tonight, but I doubt he’ll talk to you. He knows the way I feel.”
“Some things are not as they seem,” Zeke insisted.
The man shook his head. “You’re responsible for my daughter’s death. I will never forgive you.”
He glanced at the buggy and spied Becca, still dressed like an Amish lad. “Children are not safe in your presence. I thought I spread the word through the community that you are not to be trusted.” He headed for the buggy.
“Come here, lad. You should not be with this man.” Gingerich’s beady eyes narrowed even more. “He might hurt you.”
“Ezekiel Hochstetler is a gut man,” Becca said from the buggy. “I am sorry about your daughter, but do not blame Zeke for something that was not his doing.”
Levi narrowed his gaze. “Why would a young boy speak this way to an old man?”
“I mean you no disrespect, sir.”
“We did not mean to upset you, Mr. Gingerich.” Zeke climbed onto the buggy, grabbed the reins and encouraged Sophie forward. The old man was becoming deranged and even more militant, but he was right. Zeke should not have
come to his farm, and he never should have brought Becca.
She gazed straight ahead, eyes wide, lips drawn. What was she thinking?
Probably that Zeke was as confused and misguided as Levi Gingerich.
* * *
Becca remained silent all the while Zeke encouraged Sophie along the bumpy access path and then onto the main roadway.
“Mr. Gingerich doesn’t seem to like you,” Becca finally said.
“An understatement for sure. He believes I was involved in his daughter’s death.”
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
“What would be the benefit? He does not want to hear anything bad about Irene, so I will not be the one to tell him.”
“I’m a good listener if you feel like sharing?”
She waited, sensing his unease. When he failed to respond, she touched the sleeve of his jacket. “This woman was special to you, yah?”
He nodded. “I loved her.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “At least, I thought I did.”
The reins twined through his finger. “Have you ever been in love?”
Becca thought for a long moment, wishing she could answer Zeke’s question. Had she loved someone once upon a time? Did she love someone now?
She shook her head and sighed. “I wish I knew.”
He took her hand in his, causing her heart to lurch. She turned and looked into his eyes, seeing empathy and concern. Perhaps she had not answered Zeke’s question correctly the way her neck tingled. Could the strange sensations have something to do with love?
“Forgive me?” he said.
She raised her brow. “Forgive you for what?”
“For asking a question about your past when you have no memory. I should have realized my query would cause you more upset.”
“I wish I could tell you about my past, but it is a total blank, like a clean whiteboard that has no markings. I try to see beyond the present and I get only a void. Still—” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me about Irene and your relationship with her.”
He turned his gaze back to the road.
“Irene was pretty,” he started to explain. “She knew I was interested in being with her and smitten enough to agree to anything she suggested.”
“She suggested leaving the mountain and moving to town?” Becca asked.
He nodded. “Irene wanted to experience life. At least, that is what she told me. I asked her to be my wife. Hattie made a wedding dress for her.”
“The pretty blue dress Hattie gave me to wear. It was meant to be a bridal dress.” Becca’s heart sank, realizing the upset she must have caused Zeke when she wore the dress planned for his bride.
“That was long ago, Becca. The dress should be worn instead of hidden away in a blanket chest.”
“Seeing me in the dress must have upset you.”
He shook his head. “Irene is gone. There is no going back.”
“Still—”
“Still, you are not listening. Irene found an Englisch man who spent money on her. Drug money earned from the sale of the methamphetamine he cooked up.”
“Oh, Zeke.”
“The chemicals he used were highly flammable. There was an explosion and a fire. Irene was in the cabin at the time.”
“I’m sorry.” Becca’s heart ached for the pain Zeke had to have experienced.
Mr. Gingerich’s words came again to mind. You’re a murderer, he had yelled.
She turned to look at Zeke. Hard as the question was to ask, she needed to know the truth. “If that’s what happened, why did Mr. Gingerich say you murdered his daughter?”
“I had been with Irene minutes earlier. She was angry, and I could not reason with her so I left and had not gone far when the cabin exploded. I ran to save her. I...”
His voice was thick with emotion.
“I tried to resuscitate her. She started breathing but died in the ambulance as she was being rushed to the hospital.”
“Yet her father claims you killed her?”
“The sheriff told him what happened, but he does not have ears to hear.”
Becca wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned back, her gaze on the passing darkness.
Was Mr. Gingerich a cranky old man who failed to accept the truth or did he know something about his daughter’s relationship with Zeke that was better left unsaid?
Becca hadn’t told Zeke about the knife she saw in her dreams. Was he holding back something about Irene’s death, as well?
ELEVEN
Zeke was heavyhearted as he encouraged Sophie up the mountain to where Montcliff Studio was located. Becca had been quiet and lost in her own world since their brief discussion about Irene. Knowing she needed time to sort through the information he had shared, Zeke had remained silent, as well.
In the distance, he spied the two large soundstages that rose like giants against the star-studded sky. Floodlights illuminated the area and brightened the various buildings set in stark contrast to the dark night.
Becca sighed and finally spoke. “I don’t have a good feeling about this place.”
“I understand your concern, but Levi Gingerich said Caleb was working tonight. I want to talk to him.”
“I told you the van with the Montcliff Studio logo must mean something to me, Zeke. Suppose I worked here as we talked about? If so, you’re bringing me to the very place where I might be recognized.”
“The sun has set, Becca. The filming is taking place in town. I doubt we will see anyone roaming about tonight, but to ensure you are not recognized, hide in the rear of the buggy.”
“What if someone grabs me, Zeke? Larry Landers chased after me today. Other men have, as well. You must realize my concern.”
“Yet you need to find out why those men were chasing you, Becca. That is what we are trying to do. As I said before, everyone is in town. You will not be discovered. Trust me.”
Her frustrated sigh as she climbed into the rear told him that was the issue. She did not trust him, although he could not blame her. She knew nothing about her past and knew little about him, so she was smart to be wary. Zeke needed to earn her trust. Hopefully with time, she would realize he wanted what was best for her.
“We will not stay long,” he assured her.
“Long enough to be found out,” she muttered under her breath.
A man stood at the entry gate and stepped into the road as Zeke guided the mare forward.
The guard held up his left hand. “This area is off-limits.”
“I am here to talk to Caleb Gingerich. He works in food service.”
“Come back tomorrow.”
Zeke nodded. “This is something I might do depending on what he tells me this evening. Caleb Gingerich asked me to deliver fresh pastries and breads to the dining area. I need to know when the order is to arrive.”
Zeke hesitated a moment and then raised a brow. “Unless you want to cancel the order of mouthwatering pies and cakes.”
“Look, I’m just doing my job.” The guard shrugged and checked a clipboard he held in his right hand. “No one said anything about a delivery tonight.”
“Not a delivery, but confirmation of an order.” Zeke peered into the enclave, seeing a number of trailers and other temporary buildings. “Where can I find the dining hall?”
The guard pointed to the fork in the road. “Stay on this path. You’ll pass the dorms that house the employees. Keep going straight until you come to a circle. The executive trailers and the office will be on the left. The commissary is directly to the right. The kitchen is on the far side in the rear of the building. You should find Gingerich there. If not, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
Zeke nodded his thanks and flicked the reins. Sophie’s hooves clip-clopped on the pavement.
“He did not see you,” Zeke whispered over his sho
ulder once the buggy turned at the fork.
Becca failed to respond, and he knew she was still worried about what might happen. “As I told you before, Becca. You will not be recognized.”
“I don’t share your optimism.”
He glanced into the back of the buggy, seeing the faint outline of her oval face and the whites of her eyes opened wide with expectation.
“The studio looks abandoned. I do not see anyone wandering around the area. You can relax.”
“I’ll relax once we return to Hattie’s house.”
A circle of trailers appeared on the left. A sign in front of the building on the right read: Montcliff Studio Commissary. The front of the structure was dark. Rounding the corner, Zeke saw the well-lit kitchen. Caleb’s red convertible was parked in a nearby lot.
Zeke pulled Sophie to a stop in a shadowed clearing behind a hedge of bushes. “Stay in the buggy, Becca. I will not be long.”
After hitching the mare to a nearby tree, he hurried forward and tried the door. Finding it locked, he knocked and peered through the window, then smiled with relief as he saw Caleb heading toward him, carrying a mop in hand.
Caleb unlatched the lock and opened the door, surprise written on his face. “What brings you here tonight?”
Zeke glanced at the bucket of sudsy water in the middle of the room.
“The floor needed to be cleaned,” Caleb said without apology. “Come in. How about a cup of coffee?”
Zeke shook his head. “I wanted to check on the cook’s order. Is he still interested in what Hattie can offer?”
“Definitely. He’ll cut a check for her once he receives the baked goods. Tell Hattie to work quickly. He’s eager to receive her items as soon as possible, otherwise, I fear he might hire someone else.”
“My aunt cannot be hurried,” Zeke said with a smile. “But I will encourage her.”
“Knowing the hungry people are anticipating her homemade baked goods might spur her on,” Caleb added with a chuckle. “Filming will be in town this week. They’re working round the clock for the next couple days to get done early. I’ll head there in the morning. Why don’t I stop by Hattie’s house on my way? If she has anything ready, I can take it with me.”
