Annie glanced at the backpack the boy left behind. An ID tag hung from the strap with a name and address in clear block letters. She did not even have to get up to see it.
She turned back to her laptop. A few clicks later, she smiled smugly to herself. One teenage boy was going to be very happy in about three days. What was the point of having money if she could not be spontaneous with it?
Rufus helped Annalise into the buggy promptly at six o’clock. She had changed into the same full skirt she had worn to church a few days earlier and a simple blouse. Rufus appreciated her attempt to be respectful of their lifestyle, but it would have been more convincing if her denim bag did not hang from her shoulder. His mother and sisters carried purses—sometimes backpacks—so the bag itself was nothing unusual. But anyone could tell it held her laptop. Why was she loath to leave it behind? Her cell phone was no doubt silenced but in her skirt pocket as if it were a third hand.
“What’s the matter?” Annalise asked. “You’re scowling.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something.”
He hesitated then said, “Your computer. You never go anywhere without it.”
“I can’t be sure it’s safe if I don’t have it with me,” Annalise said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to sneak off to use it in the middle of dinner.”
Was he wrong to wish she would confide in him?
“If I ask you about it,” Rufus said, “you’ll tell me it’s complicated, right?”
“It is complicated.”
They rode in silence for more than a mile. Then Rufus spoke, “It seems to me it takes a great deal of energy to grasp at the air as much as you do.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sorry. I should not have said that.” Rufus sighed. He felt the wall rise between them and changed the subject. “Jacob will be so glad to see you. It’s a surprise.”
“Tell me you told your mother you were bringing me home for dinner.”
“How could I? I haven’t seen her since breakfast.”
“You have a cell phone.”
“I only use that for business or emergencies.”
“That doesn’t sound very convenient to me,” Annalise said. “What if it’s a not a good evening for having a guest?”
Rufus laughed. “I know my mother well. And you have a lot to learn about our ways.”
Annalise raised one hand to check the hair she had pinned down in a severe manner. Annalise was trying too hard to respect their ways. With a pang, he wished she would remove the pins and let her hair fall around her face. It would be beautiful in the afternoon light.
And immediately he felt guilty. To have such thoughts about any woman—if it was God’s will for him to be alone, he could not have such thoughts.
“I hope you will enjoy a good home-cooked meal,” Rufus said. “I imagine you have exhausted the restaurants in Westcliffe by now.”
“Twice and three times over.” Annalise laughed. “But I’m used to eating out. I’m afraid I’m not much of a foodie.”
“A foodie?”
“I’m not much use in the kitchen.”
“I see.” He paused. “Would you like to be?”
“Useful in the kitchen?” She turned toward him and twisted up a lip. “I would need a committed teacher.”
“Amish women are determined. My mother would teach you.” He had gone too far, but he did not want to take back the words.
They rode another mile. This time Annalise broke the silence.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said.
“Of course.”
“I thought Amish people didn’t have anything to do with outsiders. I mean, I understand you can build cabinets for them to make a living. But why … I mean … me? Taking me in when I fell. Church. And now dinner with your family?”
Rufus swallowed. “People sometimes want to visit our church, and I’ve invited you to share a meal to make a little boy happy.”
“Aren’t you encouraging Jacob to get a taste of the big, bad world or something? Face it. I’m a technology addict. I’m the ultimate un-Amish. What must your family think about the last week?”
“I can see that you are in trouble,” Rufus said. “You hide away in Tom’s truck. You hire a lawyer. You do not let your computer out of your sight, and you jump if your cell phone rings. I may not live in the way of the English, but I can see what is plain before my eyes. The Good Samaritan could not walk past what was plain before his eyes.”
“Well,” Annalise said, “Thank you for your concern, but I’m managing quite well under the circumstances.”
“Managing? You’re hiding. How is that the same thing?”
Her face blanched, but he was not sorry he challenged her. She did not know her own value. Three cars whizzed by them on the highway, leaving the buggy to quake in their wind.
“Those people should slow down,” Annalise said.
Yes. And they are not the only ones.
Eli Beiler read from a German Biewel while food steamed on the table. The aroma of Dutch-spiced pot roast made Annie suddenly ravenous. Her eyes feasted on the beans and carrots from the garden, rich in color. The family bowed for silent prayers. When at last Eli said, “Aemen,” Pennsylvania Dutch flew around the table with the passing dishes. Annie filled her plate and smiled.
“We have a guest,” Eli reminded everyone. “We will speak English.”
“My brothers in Pennsylvania have sent letters,” Rufus explained quietly to Annie.
The conversation switched to English.
“Daniel says the new boppli looks just like our little Jacob at his age.” Franey heaped mashed potatoes onto her plate.
“What did I look like when I was a boppli?” Jacob wanted to know.
“You were round and bald and slobbery,” Sophie said, ignoring Lydia’s elbow in her side.
“Matthew says the farm is doing well this year. He bought a new plow.” Franey’s face lit with a sheen Annie had not seen before. “And he and Martha want to come to visit. I wonder if Tom would be willing to drive all the way to Denver to get them from the train.”
“We can ask,” Rufus said.
Serving dishes clinked around the table, and Annie’s plate filled rapidly. Although she could not understand the family jokes, clearly Sophie and Lydia were teasing each other, and Joel was quick to add to the banter. Jacob, sitting between Annie and Rufus, wove between speaking English to Annie and Pennsylvania Dutch to the family. Every few minutes, Annie was caught off guard when someone addressed her and anticipated a response.
“Annalise is interested in our family history,” Rufus explained unexpectedly. “Her grandmother’s name was Byler. Maybe there is a connection.”
“Perhaps,” Eli said. “We have a book you are welcome to look at.”
“What sort of book?” Annie asked.
“Genealogy of our family name,” Eli said. “Beiler is a common Amish name spelled several ways, but we suspect all the spellings go back to Pioneer Jakob Beyeler who came from Switzerland.”
“I would love to see the book.” Annie leaned forward to see Eli at the end of the table.
“Then you shall. I’m afraid the print is small and hard to read. You are welcome to take it with you and study it as much as you like.”
“Thank you! I’ll be careful with it.”
“Let us know what you find,” Franey said. “I don’t think anyone here has ever looked at that old book.”
Jacob wiped his face with his cloth napkin in dramatic fashion. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. It’s time for my chores in the barn, anyway. Can Annalise come with me?”
Faces around the table turned to Annie.
“I would love to.” She looked over Jacob’s head to catch Rufus’s eye.
“It won’t take long,” Rufus assured her. “He just needs to check on water for the horses and the cow, and sweep the work area.”
“Sounds great,” Annie said.
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Rufus shook a finger at Jacob. “I left my toolbox in the barn. You stay out of it.”
Jacob took Annie’s hand and led her out the back door and down a path past the garden to the barn. Refusing her help, he pushed the wide door open by himself.
“This is where we found you,” he said.
Annie smiled. “Yes it is.”
“You were like a present for Rufus.”
Annie felt the blush rise in her face and was glad Rufus was not in the barn. “Your brother was kind to me.”
“Don’t tell Joel, but Rufus is my favorite bruder. Matthew and Daniel don’t count. They live too far away, and I don’t remember them.”
“You have a wonderful family, Jacob.”
“I’m blessed,” he announced as he reached for a broom.
“Yes you are,” she agreed.
Behind them, a cell phone rang. Rufus’s toolbox sat right inside the door on a low shelf. Jacob looked at the phone and twisted his lips. “It says, RUTH. She taught me how to read her name before she left.” He turned away from the phone and began to sweep.
The phone rang several times then stopped. A moment later, it rang again, and again the caller ID announced, RUTH. Annie moved toward the phone.
“We’re not supposed to answer it,” Jacob warned. “She left.”
“Left for where?” Annie asked. The phone rang again, and the sound seemed to send a neurological signal compelling her to answer.
“I’m not sure. But she’s gone. We can’t answer.” Jacob moved deeper into the barn as the phone’s insistence grated on Annie.
She snatched it out of the toolbox and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Uh-oh,” Jacob said, dropping his broom and running out of the barn.
“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number,” a voice said softly into Annie’s ear.”
“Hello, Ruth,” Annie said. “You have the right number. I’ll be happy to give your brother a message.”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Annie. I met Rufus recently.”
“Are you … Is your family one of the new families to come?”
“No, I’m not Amish,” Annie said. “What would you like me to tell Rufus?”
“Tell him … tell him … just ask him to please read my letter. It’s important.”
“I’ll make sure he gets the message. Hopefully you’ll hear from him soon.”
“Danke. Thank you. For answering. And taking a message. It’s probably the best I could hope for.”
Annie wanted to ask so many questions, but she squashed them. Before she could think of anything more to say, the call ended. Annie replaced the phone in the toolbox and sat alone in the barn. If Rufus could be such a Good Samaritan to her, then why couldn’t he read his own sister’s letter?
A moment later, Rufus stood in the doorway. “Jacob said you answered my phone.”
“It was Ruth. She wants you to—”
“You should not have done that.”
His voice had an edge she did not recognize. He was close enough that she could have reached out to touch him, but she stilled the impulse. Something clouded his eyes. Anger? Pain?
“She’s your sister. She sounds … lonely or something.” The tips of two fingers brushed back and forth along the gold links at her neck.
“She knows better than to call that number for anything other than business or an emergency.” His tone was unbending. “I’m sorry you felt you should answer it.”
“Don’t you even want to hear what she said?” Annie pressed, frustration welling.
“As you like to say, it’s complicated.” He averted his eyes. “I should take you back to the motel now.”
Fifteen
Rufus tugged on the reins to make Dolly turn into Tom’s long driveway. That the red truck was parked outside the garage attached to the house told him he had not missed Tom. He watched the front door as Dolly ambled down the gentle slope. Rufus took Dolly and the buggy to the side of the driveway where Dolly could nuzzle the ground and waited. A moment of Tom’s time was all Rufus needed, and if Tom’s daily habits could be trusted, he would emerge from the house at any moment ready to begin his workday. When Rufus met Tom five years ago, he had run a hardware store in town—one where Rufus spent money on a regular basis. More and more, he left the hardware store in the hands of his capable staff and filled large blocks of time taxiing for Amish families and hauling assorted supplies for contractors. Rufus only wanted to be sure he was on Tom’s schedule for tomorrow.
In the back of Rufus’s buggy was a sample cabinet for Mo’s approval. If she liked it—and Rufus was sure she would—he would need supplies from the lumberyard in Colorado Springs to build the rest. The owners were particular about their wood to a degree that Rufus appreciated, but it was worth traversing the distance to choose his boards from their lot.
Between a couple of odd jobs, building a sample cabinet for Mo, and updating his oversized accounts book, Rufus had not been at the motel for four days. He wondered now if Annalise was still staying there. The truth was he wondered about her more than once while he sanded white oak, mitered precise corners, and calculated income and expenses. Would she come through looking for breakfast just as he unwrapped the cabinet for Mo’s inspection? Would her gold necklace lie against her skin under a T-shirt, or would a blouse open at the neck let the chain catch the light?
Dolly nickered, and Rufus shook the thought away. What nonsense. I am spending far too much time with the English. If I’m not careful, I’ll have something to confess to the whole church. A silly ornamentation. That was all the chain was.
The front door opened, and Tom stormed out of the house.
Rufus jumped down from his buggy. “Tom, do you have a moment?”
Tom stomped toward his truck, a cardboard box under his arm. “Sorry, not now, Rufus.”
Rufus strode alongside the truck as Tom opened the driver’s door and nearly threw the box onto the passenger seat. “I just want to confirm the trip to Colorado Springs tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re good. I’ll pick you up at seven.” Tom sat in the driver’s seat and fumbled his keys.
“What is it?” Rufus asked. “Is it Karl again?”
“Worse.” Tom slammed the door.
Rufus jumped back when the engine roared. A few seconds later, a screech and a cloud of dust bore witness to Tom’s fury as he pulled out onto the highway.
Annie did not have to order at the coffee shop anymore. The baristas saw her coming through the door and had a mocha caramel grande nonfat latte in process by the time Annie reached the counter to pay for it. She tipped generously and settled in at her favorite table to wait for someone to bring the completed concoction to her.
Annie punched the speed dial for Jamie.
“Friesen-Page Solutions.”
“It’s me,” Annie said.
They ran through a few routine matters.
“I’ll take care of things,” Jamie said, “but I’m not sure I understand why you don’t come home. Barrett is making himself scarce; you have a lawyer on your side. We haven’t had so much as an invoice from Rick in a week. Why aren’t you here?”
Annie sighed. The question was legitimate. “Things are working this way, aren’t they? The work is getting done. I talk to clients every afternoon.”
“You haven’t talked to Liam-Ryder Industries,” Jamie pointed out. “Shouldn’t we at least find out what they want?”
“First, we should find out who they are,” Annie said. “Have you got time for a little research?”
“Of course.”
“Make sure they’re not a legal firm in disguise.”
“Okay. When can I tell people to expect you back in the office?”
“I don’t know. Soon.”
Jamie was right. Lee Solano had quelled the legal crisis for the time being. Barrett was behaving himself and leaving her system alone—no doubt trying to play the good guy who would appear sympathetic to a judg
e. Whatever his reasons, it did seem that matters were calm enough for Annie to show her face at the office. Yet she felt no particular urge to go home. Living in a low-level motel room with a wardrobe that quickly became redundant was not so bad, even without a car. She got plenty of exercise walking into town, cultivated a striking tan, and gaped every day at the Sangre de Cristos so close she could almost feel their ridged rocks and cushioning trees.
And Rufus Beiler was here. Annie would never say that to Jamie, and of course it was a fantasy to think there could be something between them. Answering his phone had made that clear. But Rufus stood for something, and Annie was not finished finding out what it was.
Annie looked up at the duo bursting through the shop’s door. “Jamie, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“That’s the one,” a teenage boy said, pointing. “She’s the lady I talked to.”
Annie had only seen Tom a couple of times, but she would not have pegged him for someone infused with rage. Behind him was the boy she had spoken to four days earlier. She wanted to smile, thinking of him getting the package, but the color of Tom’s face suggested she temper her enthusiasm.
“Sorry,” the boy muttered. “He found the box this morning and came and got me from my friend’s house. I had to show him the laptop.”
“You did this?” Tom said.
He set the cardboard box on the table hard enough to make Annie wince, considering the contents.
“I talked to this boy, yes,” she said.
“This boy is my son, Carter Reynolds.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Would it have mattered?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted.
“Annie, right?” Tom asked. His face flashed through six moods in a second but remained stern.
She nodded.
“You sent my son a computer? A strange boy you met in a coffee shop?”
“It sounded like it would be a help to the whole family to have another computer in the house,” she answered evenly.
“This is a small town. Maybe we do things differently than a place like Colorado Springs, but around here we think it’s odd for a complete stranger to take up with a child and give extravagant gifts.”
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