by Karen Harper
“What?” Hannah jumped to her feet, grabbed the back of her chair for support. “You went to Cleveland and talked to Jason Flemming before I auditioned? He listened to me but turned me down, told me to go home until I was better. I had to get a job as a receptionist in another recording studio just to pay my bills, and no one would give me an audition after that! You—that’s one reason I turned goth, because they befriended me, got me that job.”
“Mr. Flemming didn’t turn you down because he didn’t like your voice. He’d already heard some recording of it and said it was good, very good. I told him you were bad sick and would have to come home for treatments.”
Hannah just gaped at him. Again, she had to remind herself to breathe. “You— I can’t believe it!”
“It’s true. I didn’t kill your friend in the graveyard to keep you home if that’s what you were thinking, but I killed your plans, your dream. I want to be sorry, but I feel I saved you, saved you for the family, your people—Seth.”
“Did he—did he know anything about what you did?”
“Ach, no. No one, not even your mother. But it has eaten at me and I had to get right with you, with the Lord. I’ll make a church confession. They may want me to resign. I pray it won’t make you want to leave again. Stay with us, Hannah, sing to your and Seth’s children, teach us to sing in our hearts—”
Hysteria flooded her. “I— How can I stay in a place where the two men I loved and admired most in my life betrayed me?” she shouted, and ran sobbing from the room.
Ray-Lynn swam upward through the dark fog of pain and confusion. She felt terrible. A heart attack? No, her head hurt, not her chest. Was she home in bed, trapped in a nightmare?
She tried to lift her head from—from a steering wheel. A car accident? She could not recall—needed help. Where was she? Bright, gold lights around and behind her, in the rearview mirror when she opened her eyes. And her own lights were on, illumining bare trees but nothing else beyond.
Her van lurched forward bit by bit. Something was pushing it! She tried to turn to see but the headlights behind blinded her. She only caught the words on a sign beside her van as it moved jerkily, slowly past: Bridge Ices Before Road. But that sign was out by the Troyers’ old grist mill between the road and the river ravine!
She fumbled for her car key in the ignition. Not there! She felt so woozy. She tried to focus on the console with the gear stick—in neutral, jammed in neutral! Her leg hurt but she moved her foot, tried to find the brake. Tried to push it hard, but the van still moved, slowly, jerk by jerk, not even enough to put a dent in the bumper. Out. She had to get out.
With one hand she tried to unfasten her seat belt, with the other fumbled for the door lock. So dizzy, but Jack would come to help her. Why was she out driving? It was snowing. Why—
Another jolt against the back of the van, gentle but stronger. A sapling bent ahead of her front bumper. It would never hold. It snapped and the van tilted, throwing her forward, jerking her hand from her seat belt lock.
Then she remembered. She’d gone out to see if Jack and Lily were together. John Arrowroot had gone missing and now—and now…
She tried again and got her seat belt loose. Unlock the door, get out! She was going to fall, roll over the edge. Cell phone, call Jack, but no time to find her purse. Behind her in the glare of high headlights—a van or truck?—she thought she glimpsed a dark form, a driver. Who and why?
The front of the van, the whole thing tilted downward, slamming her against the wheel, the dashboard, then throwing her into the backseat. Next, blessed blackness.
Shortly after a cold dawn, Seth saw cars and buggies had begun to assemble in Homestead. They filled the small parking lot behind the sheriff’s office and the volunteer fire station and parked along both sides of Main Street. Hannah had stopped by their farm this morning to tell him and Ella how the search would be organized. Since he and his father knew the immediate area around Arrowroot’s house, they would lead volunteers closest to that site while others fanned out farther. He’d been glad to hear that Hannah and Ella would be together because he didn’t want Hannah around Linc Armstrong.
The sheriff seemed to be running the show, although Linc and Bishop Esh were also moving among the volunteers and passing out papers with rules and directions. Seth glanced over at the Dutch Farm Table and wished he had time to go in for coffee and doughnuts. By the time he had fed Marlena and delivered her to his mother to watch today, he’d eaten only a Pop-Tart washed down by orange juice. But there was no time for a hearty breakfast now. He, like many others John Arrowroot had threatened or abused, were giving up their time to search for him.
He saw Hannah had arrived from telling Amanda Stutzman she couldn’t work today. She’d left her own buggy somewhere and climbed up into Ella’s. The sheriff had suggested that those who were searching farther out than Arrowroot’s immediate neighborhood go in pairs. Lily Freeman jogged in, despite the slippery sidewalks, then climbed into Elaine Carson’s truck with its flag and eagle decals.
Evidently Homestead storekeepers were closing up for the morning to help, too. Seth saw Mr. Baughman, who owned the hardware store; one of the bank tellers; and Tim Green, who managed one of the fast-food places. Clair Kenton was with her husband, Harlan. He had his motor running to keep them warm inside, but that was fogging up the area with its exhaust. The Meyers brothers, George and Clint, were there, bleary-eyed and unshaven, looking like they’d been up all night, standing by their truck.
“Seth, you clear on who’s going with you?” the sheriff asked. “And you and your father mind going over there in Linc’s car instead of your buggy? He’s still got the place taped off for a possible crime scene, so he insists on going to stay on the property there.”
“Ya, fine. I’ll tell Daad.”
“One more thing. I thought sure Ray-Lynn would be out here with her usual coffee and doughnuts, so you mind checking to see what’s keeping her? We’ve got to get this show rolling.”
“Happy to,” Seth said, and he was, because he’d grab some coffee while he was there.
But the moment he went into the warmth of the restaurant, he sensed something was wrong. Of course, fewer folks were inside than the usual breakfast crowd, but the Amish waitresses seemed rushed, almost frenzied. And no Ray-Lynn in sight at her usual post of hostess or cashier.
“Leah,” he said to the Schwartz girl as she raced past, “where’s Mrs. Logan?”
“Late. Not here. I think she’s sick or something. I opened up like she said to do if she’s late. I phoned her house and no answer, so I thought she’d be here soon. Then I—a couple of us—figured she was out with the crowd, the sheriff and all. Did you see her out there?”
He shook his head and, forgetting the coffee he was craving, hurried back outside. Sheriff Freeman was huddled with Linc, but he barged right in.
“Sheriff, Ray-Lynn didn’t come in this morning and she’s not answering her phone. Leah Schwartz figured she was on her way in—Leah has a key with orders to open up—but no Ray-Lynn.” Seth was going to ask if the sheriff had seen her at all this morning but the alarmed look on his face answered that.
Frowning, the sheriff asked, “And her girls weren’t told she was off on one of her missions of mercy—coffee and TLC for anyone else?”
“They seemed at a loss for—”
The sheriff spun away, leaving Seth and Linc standing there.
“It’s probably nothing,” Linc said. “But things get complicated when hearts get mixed up with heads, right?”
“You ought to know,” Seth countered. “What about driving past Ray-Lynn’s place on our way out to Arrowroot’s?”
“Not with a car full of volunteers. I don’t want it to look like some kind of a crisis. I argued we should keep a low profile when Arrowroot went missing, but the sheriff may have a point with all this. It’s FBI gut instinct, but I think, if Arrowroot’s fled the coop, he’s working with someone who picked him up and this is another ploy to get
publicity for his cause. We’ll see.”
Seth did see one thing. The sheriff was aching to go to Ray-Lynn’s house to check on her, but he was caught here in charge of all this. He was talking to Amanda Stutzman, who had just driven up. He took a key off his key ring and gestured in the general direction of Ray-Lynn’s house as he handed her the key. Amanda immediately backed up, turned, then drove quickly away, heading down Main Street, away from the swelling crowd.
By noon, Hannah and Ella were exhausted and chilled, despite the fact that they occasionally got out of Ella’s buggy to tramp into thick copses or bushy areas along the river above the ravine. She peered over the side now and then at Killibuck Creek. The breeze was still stiff so both wore their boots and stayed bundled up under the buggy blanket.
Hannah had been upset they had been assigned to an area a good distance from Arrowroot’s house, not far from where she’d left her own buggy that disastrous day she and Seth had spied on the outsiders from Detroit at the Troyer grist mill. She’d told Ella nothing about that and evidently Seth hadn’t, either. For more than one reason that day brought back bad memories.
“Let’s eat,” Ella said, handing the reins to Hannah and reaching behind the seat to bring out a sack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a thermos of hot chocolate they’d already been into. “You might know the menfolk would get the places Arrowroot might actually be found, closer to his house. If he’s living like his ancestors in these woods, he’s frozen stiff anyway by now. Do they think he’d scalp us if we were the ones to find him?”
“Not funny,” Hannah said. “But do I hear Ella Lantz even slightly criticizing the way things are around here, the decisions the men make? It’s my daad, our brilliant bishop, who decided who looks where—and decides most else in our lives.”
“Hannah! How can you talk like that? And I was not criticizing, just mentioning. I know we have to go the extra mile even for an enemy. I’m cold and hungry, that’s all—but glad to have some time with you. Seth’s pretty upset about your not forgiving him,” she added hastily as Hannah pulled them into a little clearing along the road not far from a bridge—a modern one, not one of the nearby covered bridges.
“Did he tell you that?” Hannah demanded. “Besides, even if I forgive, which I do, I can’t forget.”
“He’s never stopped caring for you.”
“Ella, please don’t play matchmaker!”
“I’m not. It’s just you’d be so perfect together. I hope Marlena’s not a reminder of Lena to you. The little sweetheart even named the doll you so kindly gave her after you—‘baby Hannah this, baby Hannah that.’”
“Did you or Seth suggest the name?” Hannah asked as she savored the hot chocolate. She pressed her gloved hands to the cup, but it was plastic and not that warm. Still, even talking about Seth, she felt warmer inside.
“Not me.”
“Meaning Seth did?”
“Or else maybe he just told Marlena the doll was from Hannah and she thought that was the doll’s name. See, you do care about him, about all of us. I’ve been praying you’ll stay home after this is all over.”
“I don’t know.” They both bit into their sandwiches. It was hard to talk with a mouth full of peanut butter, but then her thoughts about Seth and staying here were just as gummy. “I think I have another chance to have an audition, not sure when or where.”
“My dear friend, just because God gave you a beautiful voice, doesn’t mean He thinks you need to give it to the outside world. Maybe He meant it for a blessing to everyone here, our people.”
There it was again—our people. That echoed in Hannah’s head and heart as they finished their lunch and drove on toward the bridge. It was starting to spit snow again like last night, and the wind was from the north. She could barely feel the tip of her nose. This snow would add to the scattered coating of it on the ground, where the flakes had mostly stuck to grassy spots but melted off the roads to make them a bit slick. Only on the north side of the trees had flakes snagged in rough tree bark, and they clung to stop signs or the Bridge Ices Before Road sign just ahead.
“You want to stop at the Troyers’ and see if Naomi’s there?” Ella asked. “I didn’t see her or Josh in the crowd in town this morning, but they could have come in later. I mean, it is their honeymoon period, but I think he’s going to keep her close to home, anyway. At least a Troyer wife doesn’t have to work and she’ll be busy with their new house Seth’s going to build them and then with her family.”
“Sure, let’s stop there. Anything to get warm for a minute,” she said, but she was thinking it would give her a chance to learn from Naomi, or maybe even the Troyers, whether those Detroit men were for sure going to control the mill project and who knew what else?
Ella snapped the reins to move her horse fast, but Hannah grabbed her wrist. “Ella, wait. Look! See those car tracks in the grass there? Someone could have slid off the road.”
Ella reined in and leaned over Hannah to look, too. “But I heard Seth say John Arrowroot’s car was in his garage. And you can see where the car stopped in time and then backed out.”
But she pulled over, and they climbed down. Hannah gasped and Ella gave a little scream when they saw saplings snapped off and tracks that went over the side of the ravine.
Seth, his daad and their crew made their last circuit of the hills surrounding Arrowroot’s property and met down where the lane to the property entered Valley View Road. Linc and his party, which had stuck closest to Arrowroot’s house, were not yet in sight. Seth had been uneasy all morning, after he’d heard Ray-Lynn Logan was evidently unaccounted for, too, but the sheriff had asked him to start the search, anyway. Now here he came, roaring down the road, no siren but light bar flashing. Maybe they’d found Arrowroot—or Ray-Lynn.
Seth hurried to the cruiser, and the sheriff rolled down his window. “Just heard from Linc. No Arrowroot. You neither?”
“Not a sign. What about Ray-Lynn?”
“Amanda Stutzman checked her house, and I’ve been looking everywhere she could be. She’s been upset with me off and on, but she’d never just disappear, leave the restaurant. I nearly slugged Clint Meyers when I heard him joking to his brother that she obviously ran off with Arrowroot. I have a key to her house and I’m gonna go through it with a fine-tooth comb, so I wanted you to know Linc’s in charge. I asked him to head back to town to oversee things from there. I’m grateful for your efforts and those of your people, so please pass the word on suspending the search for now. I—I can’t believe she’s missing, too, on top of all this....”
“Sheriff, I’m sure Ray-Lynn’s all right, but if you need us—”
“Yeah. It can’t be something bad—just can’t.” The sheriff thumped his steering wheel with both fists, rolled up the window and roared away.
Seth knew from Ella, who had heard from Sarah before she’d left the Amish, that Jack Freeman had been sweet on Ray-Lynn Logan. The man’s deep concern for her was not just because he was her partner in the restaurant. No, he saw in his face the same pain and fear Seth felt when he thought of losing Hannah again.
Holding on to trees on the slippery slope above the ravine, Hannah and Ella peered over the edge. Ella shrieked, and Hannah sucked in cold air. A van that looked just like Ray-Lynn’s was nose down against two big trees almost in the fast-flowing water.
“What if John Arrowroot walked into the restaurant after she closed and made her take him somewhere?” Ella choked out. “Then this? It—it is her van, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I wish I wasn’t so Amish today—I left my cell phone at the house. I’m going down to look inside.”
“You can’t! You’ll fall. Too steep here. If we go closer to the mill, we can hike back up along the river.”
“You’ve got to go for help. Take the buggy. Use the phone on the road in front of the Troyer farm.”
“Hannah, you can’t go down there! Your wrist—”
“She’s my friend. I’ll be careful. Go. Ella, go!
Call 9-1-1, the sheriff’s office, and they’ll find him. Go!”
Hannah could see the path of the car’s plunge from the broken saplings. She held to those or ones along the side of that path and, ignoring the snow-studded grass and slick rocks, started down the incline as she heard Ella drive away.
23
IT SEEMED TO Hannah that all sounds stopped. The ripple of the river below, the wind, her own rapid breathing—but her thoughts and then her desperate cry screamed at her. “Ray-Lynn! Ray-Lynn, are you down there? It’s Hannah!”
She half fell, half skidded from tree to tree, using them for handholds. It was extra hard because she still tried to protect her injured wrist. Saplings dotted this part of the hill above the ravine. She was soon sweating and gasping. At least the embankment was not too steep to handle here, but without the trees, she’d tumble down to the river for sure. How could this have happened? Ray-Lynn must have skidded off the road in the snow. What if Ella was right and Arrowroot had forced Ray-Lynn to drive him somewhere and they struggled in the car? If Arrowroot was not involved, why would Ray-Lynn be out here on the road near the Troyers’?
“Ray-Lynn! Ray-Lynn!”
Hannah fell, nearly straddling the next tree trunk. Her skirt ripped up to her hips. The tree bark snagged her stockings and scraped her thighs. She shoved herself up, balanced, then went down again. How long would it take Ella to get help here? She should have told her they’d need an ambulance, too, but would they? She had to be alive! Maybe she’d walked away from this, was following the river to get help.
Fighting panic and tears, Hannah neared the back of the van. Although she’d only used her left arm to push off and balance, not to grab trees, pain shot through her injured wrist. Her heart thudded so strong she shook even harder. A big tree nearly at the river’s edge had stopped the van’s fall, crunching in the front fender and hood. It looked balanced against that tree. If she held to the car or opened its door, would that shift its weight and slam it into the water?
