Amish Outsider

by Marta Perry

  “I’m going to check on Allie, and then I’ll look around outside.” He met Daad’s gaze, and his father nodded.

  “I’ll meet you outside. Verna, why don’t you make up some cocoa for us? That’d certain sure taste gut.”

  Verna seemed to know she was being kept out of harm’s way, but she nodded and was rattling pans by the time Michael hastened up the stairs.

  She’d left Allie’s bedroom door ajar, and he eased it open a little farther. Allie lay on her side, snuggling her favorite dog, and he could hear her even breathing. He stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of tenderness and responsibility that came with being a parent. But at least he was no longer alone.

  Flooded with thankfulness, he hurried downstairs and outside to find his father, pausing only long enough to grab the most powerful of the flashlights.

  Daad was using his own flashlight to scan the area along the driveway. “Nothing here. Thought there might be tire marks if it was the vandals coming back.”

  “She said it sounded like someone or something close to the house.” He started along the side facing the drive, flashing his light over the grass verge and the flower beds. Daad added his light, and they moved along slowly together.

  “Nothing,” Daad said. “Maybe the side away from the drive—somebody’d be less likely to be spotted there.”

  They checked along the front, and as soon as they rounded the corner, they spotted the marks...an indistinct trail of disturbed shrubs, broken twigs and a trampled flower or two.

  “There.”

  Michael aimed his flashlight at the soft soil of the flower border. Footprints showed plainly enough. It looked as if he’d paused by the window, maybe peering into the front room, where his aunt had been sewing. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the thought.

  He glanced up at the window of Allie’s bedroom. Thank Heaven she was on the second floor. Had she heard a disturbance, even in her sleep? It might very well have caused a bad dream.

  Should he ask her in the morning what she’d dreamed of? Or would that be the wrong action? So much of parenting seemed to be trial and error. And if he made a mistake, he might not know it for years.

  “Let’s have a look through the outbuildings,” Daad suggested. “Just to be sure.”

  “You go on home, Daad. I’ll do it.”

  “We’ll both do it,” he said firmly. “I wouldn’t sleep unless I made sure.”

  Sleep? He suspected he would do very little sleeping tonight. And tomorrow, like it or not, he’d best talk to Chief Jamison.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  DESPITE THE LATE night after the school board meeting, Cathy was on the go Saturday morning, arriving early at the Mud Sale grounds to help with Joanna’s stand.

  “Here’s the person of the week,” Joanna said, lifting her foam coffee cup in a mock toast. “Do you have a big head after all the wonderful good things people said about you last night?”

  “No, but I feel about ten years younger than I have all week.” Cathy accepted the coffee cup Rachel was holding out to her. “Looks as if you two have done all the work without me.”

  “Ach, no, we saved some for you. We’re just taking a break for coffee.” Rachel produced a plate of sticky buns from a basket behind the counter. “Eat. Don’t worry,” she added quickly, apparently seeing a warning forming on Joanna’s face. “I have something to clean up with. We won’t touch your quilts with sticky fingers.”

  “In that case...” Joanna helped herself. “Yum, still warm. What did you do, get up in the middle of the night?”

  Rachel laughed, shaking her head. “I put the dough to rise in the refrigerator, of course. It’s a gut thing you don’t have a husband to feed, or he’d be eating out of cans.”

  “Since that’s unlikely, I’ll enjoy the fruits of your baking,” Joanna retorted.

  Marriage was unlikely for all three of them, though Joanna hadn’t pointed that out. She didn’t seem to look further than her business for satisfaction, and poor Rachel was so tied to that father of hers it seemed she’d never get loose.

  As for her...at least she knew now what it meant to be in love. That was something to hold on to. She had her job, loving family and good friends. Plenty of people didn’t have that much. She’d learn to be content again.

  Joanna launched into an account of the school board meeting for Rachel’s benefit, giving it an air of humor that Cathy hadn’t felt at the time. Cathy studied their familiar faces, swept with gratitude for them. She could so easily have been the only unmarried woman from their little group. They would still have been friends, of course, but there was an inevitable chasm between married and unmarried women in the community, no matter how deeply they cared for each other.

  Their morning break finished, the three of them made short work of setting up the rest of the sale items. Cathy lingered over a child’s quilt—one made for a little girl, it seemed, with traditional patterns in delicate shades from rose to palest pink. It would be perfect for Allie, but she didn’t have the right to buy a gift for her. Their relationship was teacher and pupil, and that was all.

  The fire hall grounds gradually filled with people circulating, stopping at stalls, but looking rather than buying at this early point in the day. Things would really start rolling around eleven, when the auction began.

  Rachel leaned against the counter next to her. “Looks like a wonderful gut day. You should get a nice amount for the school from this day’s work.”

  Cathy nodded. “The board is talking about a new roof. That’ll take a chunk of it, but I’m hoping to have enough extra for bookshelves and new books.”

  “If we have anything to say about it, there will definitely be enough for that,” Joanna said. “Why don’t you take a walk around? We’re not going to be very busy until this afternoon.” She gestured toward the crowd. “Aren’t those some of your nieces and nephews coming?”

  “Looks that way.” Cathy waved. “I think I remember promising them caramel apples.”

  “Go on, then,” Rachel urged. “Take your time. We’ll switch off later.”

  “Denke.” Cathy slipped out of the booth and a moment later was surrounded by nieces and nephews, all talking at once.

  That was one thing about being the youngest in the family—her siblings had provided her with plenty of young ones to spoil. Two of her nephews had grasped her hands and were tugging her across the grounds toward the caramel apple stand.

  “Wait, wait.” Laughing, she freed herself, pausing to be sure the smallest ones were holding hands with an older sibling or cousin. “All right. Now we can go, but don’t lose the little ones.”

  They must, she thought, resemble an amoeba as they moved in a cluster with the crowd. She’d have to remember that for next week’s science lesson.

  “Hurry, Aunt Cathy.” Her sister Mary’s daughter, Emma, had a voice just like hers. “They might run out.”

  “Emma, it is not quite eleven in the morning. There isn’t the slightest chance that Ben Miller’s stand will run out of caramel apples.”

  That particular branch of the Miller family had the largest orchard in the area, and no one would think of getting caramel apples elsewhere. That was a comforting thing about the Mud Sale—the same people were here with the same stands every year, and if they weren’t, they’d be missed.

  When each one of the kinder had been provided with a caramel apple, Cathy accepted a handful of napkins. “We’ll need these,” she said. “Unless I turn them back over to their parents covered with caramel.”

  Ben grinned, holding out another apple. “How about one for you, Teacher Cathy? On the house.”

  “No, thanks. I just finished one of Rachel Hurst’s sticky buns.”

  “Later, then,” Ben said. “Don’t forget.”

  Nodding, Cathy moved her herd onward. She’d best let them eat the evi
dence before returning them just in time for lunch. Though on a day like this, no one worried too much about regular meals. If—

  She stopped suddenly as a small figure burrowed its way through the group. “Allie?” Her breath caught as she realized the child was shaking. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Allie buried her face in Cathy’s skirt, whispering something Cathy couldn’t hear.

  “Hush, now, it’s all right.” She bent over the child, thankful that her nieces and nephews made a screen for what was happening. “Tell me.”

  “It was him,” Allie whispered. “I saw him.”

  “Who?” She patted the trembling child.

  “Mommy’s friend. The one I saw. He—he looked at me, and I was scared.”

  A shiver of fear seemed to pass from the child right through Cathy. How could that be? She’d assumed—Michael had assumed—that the man visiting Diana had been a boyfriend, someone she’d met in Harrisburg. How could he be here?

  “We’ll find Daadi,” she said. “He’ll know what to do. Is he here?”

  Allie raised a tearstained face to her. “I—I don’t know. He left me with Aunt Verna because he had to talk to somebody. He said he’d come soon.”

  She looked around, hoping for a glimpse of his familiar face. The grounds were crowded with both Englisch and Amish, but she didn’t spot him.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do.” She gathered all the children around her. “We need to get back to Joanna’s stand. Allie’s upset, and she needs your company, so we all go close together. All right?”

  They nodded, seeming to catch the seriousness in her voice. Young Daniel, the smallest, held out his caramel apple to Allie, offering her a bite, and she managed a smile despite her apprehension.

  Cathy moved slowly, scanning the crowd for her brother-in-law Daniel or Lige or any of the adults from her own family. Where were they all?

  Wherever they were, no one seemed available at the moment. She’d get the kinder to Joanna’s stall. Joanna had her phone with her, so she could call for help. Cathy had a wry thought for how someone like Lizzie Stoltzfus would react to her needing the police again already.

  It seemed to take forever, inching their way along so that Allie could be kept in the midst of a small horde of Amish children, hopefully indistinguishable from them. If the man was here, if he’d seen Allie as she’d seen him—what then? What would he do if he’d read the fear in her face and known she could put him on the spot when Diana died?

  Finally they reached the stall, where Joanna stood alone. Apparently Rachel was off seeing the displays.

  “There you are. What—” Joanna stopped, obviously reading trouble in Cathy’s face.

  Cathy did a quick survey of her young relatives and picked out Emma as the most responsible. “Emma, I want you to see if you can find your daadi or your uncles or Grossdaadi. Send them here at once if you do. Do you understand?”

  Emma, eyes bright, nodded. Without a word, she turned and darted through the crowd.

  Cathy gathered the others close to the stand. “Stay where Joanna can see you, all right?” She turned to Joanna, lowering her voice. “Call the police. Tell Chief Jamison that Allie was frightened by seeing a man who used to come and see her mother. That’s all. He’ll understand.”

  “Got it.” Joanna was already punching her phone.

  “I’ll take Allie in the back, where she’s out of sight until he comes.”

  With a quick look around, she slipped past the curtain at the back of the display area, drawing Allie with her into the storage space behind. She sank down on a box and pulled Allie close to her, smoothing her hair back from her little pale face. She seemed to be all big eyes—frightened eyes. It wasn’t right for a child to be so afraid.

  “You’re safe now, Allie. You’re here with me, and soon Daadi will be here, too. How did you get to be all by yourself?”

  She couldn’t imagine Verna letting a child Allie’s age go off alone at the sale.

  Allie seemed calmer, but her lips trembled. “I was with Aunt Verna, but she...she stopped to talk to someone. I let go of her hand because I wanted to see a box of bunnies that a man was carrying. He let me touch one.” Her face shone with remembered pleasure. “But then when I started to go back to Aunt Verna, I couldn’t see her anymore.”

  Her face crumpled, and Cathy hurried to reassure her. “It’s all right. It’s easy to get separated in a crowd. No one will blame you. Tell me what happened next.”

  “I...I thought she was by a woman with a dog, but I couldn’t see the woman or the dog or Aunt Verna. So I went toward where I thought she was, but I couldn’t see anybody that I knew.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I wanted Daadi or you, and you weren’t there.”

  “No.” Cathy patted her back soothingly. “But I’m here now. What happened next?”

  “There were a lot of people. I thought maybe I’d see somebody I knew, but then I saw him.” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in Cathy’s lap.

  “There, now, you’re safe now. But you need to tell me, so we can do something about him. You’re sure it was the man you saw walking into your house to visit Mommy?”

  Her eyes still bright with tears, she nodded solemnly. “It was. I know it.”

  “Okay. I believe you. Do you think he knew you?” How could he? How could this anonymous man pick out Allie in a crowd of similarly dressed Amish children?

  Allie nodded, a shiver making her whole body shake. Cathy wrapped her arm around the child. “Are you sure? How could you tell?”

  “Because he looked like he...he hated me.”

  Cathy’s heart twisted, and she gave Allie a fierce hug. “No one could hate you. He’s afraid, that’s what. Afraid you’ll tell on him.”

  And she would, if Cathy had anything to say about it. Allie could identify the man, which meant the police could start investigating him. And leave Michael and Allie in peace.

  “It’s going to be all right, dear child. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Even as she said the words, Cathy saw the canvas at the side of the stall twitch. Before she could catch her breath, someone had pushed his way inside.

  It was Randy Hunter. He stood a few feet away from her, but she hardly recognized him. The pleasant, ordinary face she knew was twisted with rage and fear.

  Allie gave a tiny cry, clinging to Cathy, her hands and legs wrapping around her like a baby animal clutching its mother. Cathy struggled to get her legs free and rise to her feet.

  “Randy, what are you doing here? This is Joanna’s stall.” She kept her voice even with an effort.

  If she screamed...someone would come, of course. But Randy was only a few feet away, and if he got his hands on Allie...

  She couldn’t risk it. Talk to him, calm him, don’t do anything to set him off.

  “Randy!” Sharper, demanding his attention. “Look at me. It’s Catherine Brandt. What are you doing here?”

  Hear me, Joanna, please. Get help.

  Nothing, no response, and he took another step. Loosening Allie’s stranglehold, she pushed the child behind her, taking a step backward.

  Obviously, it was no good talking to him. He wasn’t hearing anything but his own fear. She had to try to get Allie away from him.

  “Allie, when I say go, you run to Joanna. Okay?”

  But there was no response. The child was too frightened. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t even move.

  And Randy advanced even as Cathy backed away, pushing Allie along. She groped with her hand for something, anything, that she could use to deter him.

  His eyes were blank, expressionless—it was like looking at something less than a person. His hands were reaching toward her, clutching... A shiver of revulsion went through her.

  Her groping fingers closed on a roll of quilt batting. She yanked it from the box, threw it toward h
im and screamed.

  People burst into the stall from all directions. She stumbled backward and felt her father’s arms close around her. When she managed to look, Randy was swathed in quilt batting as Chief Jamison and a young patrolman grabbed him. Then family surrounded her, blocking her view of what followed.

  Michael had his arms around Allie and partially around her as well, but no one seemed to notice that as they were escorted out of the stall.

  They were safe. Allie was safe, crying in her father’s arms, and suddenly Cathy’s legs were shaking so that she sagged against Daad, who had appeared from nowhere, it seemed.

  Joanna thrust a chair behind her and pulled her into it. “It’s all right, Cathy. I heard you. Everyone came.”

  Arms wrapped around her—her mother’s, Joanna’s, Rachel’s—until she could scarcely breathe. She looked over their heads and saw Michael holding Allie, similarly surrounded. For just a moment their eyes met, and then someone moved between, and the moment vanished.

  * * *

  IT WASN’T UNTIL evening that Chief Jamison came to the house to see Michael. He looked faintly surprised at the number of people who were there—Lige and Sarah and their children, Daad, Aunt Verna, Michael’s two brothers—no one had wanted to go home, as if the only safe thing was to stay together.

  “Komm, komm,” Aunt Verna said, ushering him into the kitchen. “You’ll have coffee. And some pie, ain’t so? I brought cherry and apple home from the sale.”

  “Just coffee, thanks.” He pulled out a chair, sinking onto it and propping both arms on the table. “I hope I never go through another day like this one. Seems pretty clear now what happened, so I wanted to bring you up-to-date.” He grimaced. “That Harrisburg cop was all for keeping everything quiet, but I told him you folks deserved the peace of mind of knowing the truth.”

  Michael saw Sarah and Aunt Verna exchange glances, and then they were shepherding the children toward the door. “You boys take the young ones outside to play ball.” When his brothers looked loath to miss the explanations, Aunt Verna gave them a look that permitted no argument. “You’ll hear it all later. Go.”