The Amish Nanny's Sweetheart

by Jan Drexler

  Sanderson and Murphy exchanged glances.

  “He hasn’t told you?” Sanderson tapped his finger on the can of pomade.

  The room closed in on Guy. What would Pa do if he was sitting here? Lie his way out?

  David’s voice echoed in Guy’s head, “A man of faith lives by prayer and the Word of God.” He sent a quick prayer up. Would God hear it?

  He took a deep breath. Pa’s way would only land him in jail, and he didn’t have to ask himself what David would do at a time like this. More than that, he knew what Judith would want him to do. She would want him to be like David, not like Pa.

  Guy looked at the two men in front of him. “Pa tells me a lot of things, and I never know if I should believe him or not. But he showed up at the farm where I work a few days ago after being gone for years.”

  “Did he tell you that car you’re driving was stolen?” Murphy was making notes as he spoke.

  “He said it was, but I thought he must be lying.”

  “And his escape from prison. He must have bragged about that.”

  Guy swallowed. “He said it was some city jail, and I thought sure that was another lie.”

  “Did he tell you he robbed a bank, along with another man?” Murphy’s eyes drilled into Guy.

  “Robbed a bank?” Guy shook his head, his feet growing cold. If these men were right, Pa was much worse than a con man, and Guy didn’t know him at all. Suddenly the chasm he had been straddling was gone. Learning the truth about Pa made it easy to determine which side was the one where he belonged.

  Sanderson slapped the table. “Quit fooling around and tell us what you know.”

  A firm, strong sensation flowed through Guy. He knew what he had to do.

  “I’ll tell you everything.” Murphy and Sanderson leaned back in their chairs. “But what will happen to Pa?”

  “I won’t lie to you, kid.” Murphy crossed his legs and thrust his hands into his pockets. “When we catch up with your old man, he’ll go to prison for a long time.”

  Guy swallowed. He wouldn’t wish prison on anyone, but Pa was a crook. And he was dangerous. The sensation strengthened. He had to do what was right, even if Pa was his only family. He couldn’t help Pa escape the punishment for his crimes.

  A lifetime of hopes and dreams, the anticipation of reuniting with his father and being a family again fell away like river ice melting on a warm spring day, disappearing into nothing. He bent his head, eyes closed. He never thought doing the right thing would be so hard.

  Facing Murphy and Sanderson, he started at the beginning.

  * * *

  Judith took a shirt off the clothesline, folded it loosely and dropped it into the basket on top of the rest of the clean laundry. From this spot at the edge of the backyard, she could see across the road and up the Masts’ lane. As far as she could tell, Guy hadn’t come back from town yet, and it was almost milking time.

  If she was right and he had left with his daed, what could she do? Retrieving a few stray clothespins that had fallen to the ground, she lifted the basket and started back to the house. She would die an old maid, that’s what she would do. Guy had made his choice, and it didn’t include her or their faith. Ever since his father had shown up, Guy’s future had been ruined.

  She shook her head, picking her way through the yard to avoid stones with her still spring-tender feet. Ne, not ruined, but changed from what she had hoped for and dreamed of for him. He would never have a life here, at home in the community. They would never have a future together, and it was Guy’s daed’s fault.

  Ach, here she was, letting hatred and resentment seep into her heart. She paused at the bottom of the porch steps and looked across the road once more. She would have to ask the Good Lord to forgive her wayward heart. The sun was lowering in the sky to the west, making the eastern sky a deep blue over the Masts’ house and barn. It was a lovely farm, and the Masts were wonderful people. How could Guy leave them?

  The sound of an automobile speeding along the gravel road made her move closer to the house. She opened the door to the back porch but lingered as the vehicle came nearer. The black car slowed to a stop at the end of the lane. Judith looked closer, risking discovery by the strangers as she leaned out to see Guy get out of the back of the car. He spoke to the men in the front seat before giving them a wave and heading up the lane toward the Masts’ farm.

  Judith set the laundry basket in the porch and waited until the car drove off before she followed Guy. She needed to be home in time to fix sandwiches for supper and to help Annie when she got home from her visit, but she had to find out where Guy had been and why he had come home in an automobile.

  An automobile! The thought made her insides quiver.

  She hurried along the grassy verge next to the lane, not wanting to run on the gravel. “Guy!” she called.

  He waited for her to catch up, and they walked to the barn together.

  “I can’t stop to talk,” he said, shifting the box under his arm. “I need to get the cows in for milking.”

  “I can help you. I saw you come home in an automobile. What is going on?” She followed him into the milking parlor.

  Guy didn’t look at her as he opened the gate to let the cows in from the pasture. “I went to town to get a few things, and some guys gave me a ride home. No big deal.”

  Judith gave each of the cows a measure of grain from the feed box while Guy washed their udders. As he sat on the stool to milk the first cow, she stood near him.

  “When Verna told me you had gone to the store, I was afraid you had already left with your daed.”

  “Naw,” he said, grunting as he stripped the last of the milk, filling the bucket. He set the full bucket out of reach of the cow’s hooves and tail. “That’s done with. Plans have changed.”

  Judith followed him to the next cow in line. “You mean you’re not going? That’s wonderful-gut.”

  “Maybe.” The sounds of milk streaming into the pail stopped. “You can’t talk to anyone about it, though.” He resumed the milking, still not looking at her.

  “Why not?”

  “There’s more going on than you know, and I don’t want you involved in it.”

  Judith stood back as he finished the second cow. When he said his plans were changed, she’d hoped they would continue the romance that seemed to be blooming. But Guy was being as hard and secretive as ever.

  When he picked up the full milk pails to take to the dairy, Judith followed him. In the clean, whitewashed room, Guy lit the lantern hanging on the wall, then started assembling the cream separator. Judith stepped up next to him to help.

  “If you’re involved in something, I do want to know. This morning, I thought you had chosen your daed over me and your family. Now it seems you’ve changed your mind, but you still won’t talk to me about it.”

  Guy sighed as he faced her. He put the last pieces of the separator together, then took her hands in his.

  “Some things became clear to me today. I had been wrong about Pa, and I have to work to make things right.”

  “What do you mean? How can you make things right?”

  “You can’t tell anyone else what I’m going to tell you. Not until it’s over.”

  Judith drew her hands back. “What are you talking about?”

  “Pa is a bad guy. A crook. I’ve been talking to a couple agents from the FBI, and I’m going to cooperate with them so they can arrest Pa.”

  Judith shivered, even though the barn was warm. “You would turn your own father in to the authorities?”

  A muscle clenched in Guy’s jaw. “David is more of a father to me than that man has ever been. When I found out what Pa has been convicted of, and that he escaped from jail, I knew I would be wrong if I tried to help him.” He smiled at her. “I thought about what David would want me to do, and the way was clear.”

/>   “Will it be dangerous?”

  A shadow passed over his face. “The agents think it might be.”

  “Then I want to be there, too.”

  “No.”

  “What if something happens to you? I want to be there—”

  “No. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.” He ran his thumb down her cheek. “If something did happen to me, I’d want to know that you were safe.” He started the crank on the cream separator. “But nothing is going to happen. The FBI agents and the police will make sure everything goes smoothly, so you don’t have to worry.”

  Judith chewed her lower lip, watching as he poured the milk into the separator. No matter what Guy said, she had to be there. She would stay far enough away to be out of danger.

  “When is this going to happen? And where?”

  He glanced at her, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why do you want to know?”

  “So I can pray for you. And for the police.” And she would be praying.

  “The agents will be here at sunset.” Guy leaned into the crank, looking tired and worn as he turned it. “I’ll come over to tell you when it’s done.”

  Judith nodded. “I’ll be waiting to hear.”

  * * *

  After Judith went home, Guy carried the pail of cream into the house, along with the baking soda and licorice he had picked up at the drugstore.

  “Denki, Guy,” Verna said, lifting her cheek for his kiss. “You shouldn’t have brought so much licorice for David, though. You’ll spoil him.”

  “Don’t you think he needs to be spoiled once in a while?” Guy used a teasing tone that he didn’t feel. His stomach churned at the thought of what he had to do after supper.

  “Take it in to him. I’ve heated up leftover potpie for your supper.” She laid a hand on his sleeve. “You will eat in the house with us tonight, won’t you?”

  Guy couldn’t look her in the eye. “Not tonight. I have something else to do.”

  She dropped her hand and went back to the stove without a word. Guy pushed back the urge to tell her everything. She would know soon enough.

  When he went into the front room, David was watching the western sky through the window.

  “I brought your licorice.”

  David grinned. “You found some!”

  Guy couldn’t suppress his own smile at the pink tinge in the old man’s cheeks. His breathing wasn’t as raspy, either.

  “The store had plenty, so I bought a dime’s worth.”

  “Denki, son. This will be a fine treat after supper.”

  Guy put on a frown. “You’ll share with Verna, won’t you?”

  David’s brows lifted in surprise. “Of course. You wouldn’t think otherwise, would you?”

  “I know how you love this stuff.”

  David nodded, smiling. “But I love Verna even more.”

  Putting the bag on the table next to his bed, David said, “Are you going to tell me what is bothering you?”

  Guy drew his hand over his face. David always could read his mind.

  “I can talk to you about it tomorrow, but not now. Not yet.” He stepped toward the door. “I have some things I need to do.”

  David’s face wore a worried frown. “Take care, son.”

  Guy nodded and left. He picked up the plate Verna had fixed for him as he passed through the kitchen, and ignored her frown. She was just as worried as David, and he didn’t blame them. But everything should be cleared up tonight. And once Pa was in FBI custody, then Guy would be free to mend the fences he had broken in the past ten days.

  He stopped by the barn to collect the box from the drugstore and started toward the shed by the river. He had just enough time to give Pa his dinner and the things from the store before sunset. Enough time to ease Pa’s feelings and to pretend that tonight was just like every other night.

  “Been waitin’ for you, boy,” Pa said when Guy reached the shed. “I’ve been missing my cigs.” He took the box and looked through it, inspecting each item. He tore open the package of cigarettes, shook one out and lit it before he reached for the plate. The warmed-over potpie smelled delicious, and Guy’s stomach growled in response.

  “How did things go in town?” Pa asked, his mouth full of food.

  “Fine.” Guy didn’t trust his voice enough to say more.

  “Got rid of the Studebaker?”

  Guy nodded. “It’s all taken care of.”

  Impounded in the police lot.

  “See any Feds?”

  Guy heard a crack in the undergrowth behind the shed, but Pa didn’t react.

  “Maybe. I saw a couple guys wearing suits.”

  Pa laid the plate down on an upturned log, the potpie only half eaten. He ground his cigarette out in the gravy and leaned his elbows on his knees.

  “Did they notice you? Follow you?”

  Shaking his head, Guy wiped away the sweat beads tickling his upper lip. “No, Pa. They didn’t follow me.”

  Pa turned his head in the growing dusk, looking for all the world like a wolf sniffing out its prey. “You sure, boy?” His eyes bore into Guy. “I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I?”

  Guy’s stomach turned. “Pa, you put me in an orphanage.”

  “I made sure you had people to care for you. Give you clothes. Give you schooling. I did what I promised your ma.”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  “I promised her, even though you weren’t my flesh and blood.”

  Guy’s head snapped up. This was the worst lie of all. “That isn’t true.”

  Pa went on. “Your ma had you before we even met. I let her tell you I was your pa, even though taking you on along with her was more than I had planned on.” Pa shook another cigarette out of the package and put it between his lips but didn’t light it. He spoke around it, his words muffled. “Your ma was one fine woman, though. A real looker.”

  A soft noise came from the dark underbrush toward the river, and Pa cocked his head, as if he was listening.

  He leaned forward, speaking softly, and Guy found himself moving closer to him to hear the lies, drawn like a bird to a snake. “You were always in the way. Useless. Until now.”

  Pa grabbed Guy’s arm and yanked him upward and around, securing him with a choke hold around his neck. He backed toward the shed, using Guy as a shield. Struggling to breathe, Guy clutched at Pa’s arm.

  “All right, you Feds. I know you’re out there.”

  Through his blurred vision, Guy saw a gun in Pa’s free hand.

  “Come out where I can see you, or the kid gets it.”

  Guy got a grip on Pa’s forearm, pulling it away from his throat long enough to suck air into his burning lungs. Murphy and Sanderson approached from the direction of the river, both of them holding guns. Pa tightened the grip on Guy’s throat.

  “Drop it, Frank,” Sanderson said, coming forward with cautious steps. “You don’t want to have murder on your conscience, too.”

  Pa—Frank—laughed. “You don’t think I’ve killed before?” He shoved the barrel of the gun against Guy’s temple. “What do you think happened to his ma?”

  As if a door had opened, a scene from the past roared into Guy’s consciousness. Mama screaming, prostrate on the floor, Pa standing over her, and Guy watching from behind the door. He was hiding, waiting for Pa to leave. Waiting to run to Mama so he could help her stop crying. Then Pa kicked with his heavy black boot, and Mama never cried again.

  The realization of what Frank had done so many years ago exploded in Guy’s brain. With a rasping cry, he threw his arm up, knocking Frank’s hand away. The gun fired as he planted his heels in the soft ground and shoved backward, slamming Frank against the shed wall. Guy fell to the ground, his ears ringing. He rolled away from the shed and Frank. Shots from Frank’s gun and the agents’ guns flashed in the
growing darkness, but Guy only heard soft pops muffled by the roaring in his ears. More men ran up, and one wrestled Frank to the ground.

  Guy shook his head, trying to clear his ears, but the roaring hum continued. Murphy was in front of him, pulling him upright, his face contorted as his mouth moved. If he was talking, Guy couldn’t hear. He grasped Murphy’s outstretched arm and stood, but fell again. It was as if someone had tilted the ground under his feet.

  As Frank was taken away, Guy closed his eyes, letting his head press into the soft ground, waiting for the throbbing to ease. Tears soaked into the grass, turning the dirt to mud.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After a quick supper of sandwiches and canned fruit, Judith put Eli to bed. During the meal he’d fussed, refusing to eat anything but bread and butter.

  “He didn’t take his afternoon nap,” Annie had said. “Grossdawdi Beachey took him out to the barn and he loved it. He had a lot of fun, but we’re paying for it now.”

  “He’ll fall asleep early, for sure.” Judith had been glad, because her mind was filled with worry about Guy.

  Now, as she left the house with the excuse that she was borrowing a sewing pattern from Verna, she glanced behind her at the western sky. The clouds glowed with orange and pink as the sun set, but the beautiful sight only added urgency to her worry. Guy had said something would happen at sunset.

  Along the lane leading to the Masts’ house, six police cars were parked. She walked past them, unease growing as she saw that they were empty. Where were the policemen?

  Lamplight glowed from the Masts’ parlor window, where Verna and David were probably wondering about the police, but Verna would stay with David, not wanting to leave him alone. Judith went to the barn, pushing the dairy door open. She listened, but there were no sounds other than a hoof stamping on the dirt floor, and all was dark. Guy had gone. But where?

  Looking down the path that ran beside the buckwheat field, Judith hesitated. That was the direction Guy had come from when this started. His daed must be down by the river. She walked slowly, listening for any sounds, but even the spring peepers were silent. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. The evening was too quiet.