Now he paused beside their booth. “Bet it’s a relief to be home.”
Strain briefly showed on Rebecca’s fine-boned face. “I pray they won’t need me again.”
Daniel and he clasped hands, and Ben made introductions.
“Please join us,” Rebecca urged, so Daniel switched sides to sit beside his wife, and Lucy and Ben slid into the booth across from them.
In no time, Rebecca and Lucy were chatting like old friends, while Daniel and Ben caught each other up on their jobs—including the theft of the proceeds from the auction.
Rebecca, a beautiful blonde, jumped right in once that subject came up. “Just yesterday, Grossmammi told me all about it,” she said. “She’s outraged that so many people are convinced the owner of the shop kept the money.”
Ben glanced at his sister. “Rebecca’s grandmother is Ruth Graber, who you met.”
“Oh, she’s sweet and fierce both!” When Rebecca laughed, Lucy said, “You’re so lucky to have her. And the quilt she brought in for sale is exquisite. Even Nadia said it was the most beautiful one she’d ever seen.”
“She is talented. And I think quilting has been a lifeline to her since my grandfather died last fall. She really believes he’s with God and she’ll join him when her time comes, but she seemed lost without him. Making a quilt for our wedding gave her a purpose.” Rebecca frowned. “She won’t admit any possibility Nadia would have done such a hateful thing.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows at Ben.
“It’s been ugly,” he said. “I’m getting the feeling people rushed to blame her so they didn’t have to look around and wonder who might have taken the money. Better to see horns and forked tail on the outsider than imagine them on your next-door neighbor or your cousin.”
Lucy jumped in to tell the other couple about the quilters who no longer trusted Nadia to sell their work, or who insisted on a cash payment instead of a check. Lucy puffed out a breath of frustration. “Because, of course, she’s not trustworthy.”
“According to Ruth, the Amish all trust her,” Daniel put in. “I asked my mother to be sure it isn’t just Ruth, but Mamm said the same.”
Lucy explained why Nadia’s store was in trouble anyway. Amish women might offer enough quilts for her to sell, but most didn’t purchase their fabric from her. And Nadia didn’t want them to, not when it would take business away from the fabric store in Hadburg.
Rebecca looked as fired up as Lucy was. “Grossmammi said some man actually spit on her?”
Ben explained Hixson’s story without naming him, and told them how quickly Nadia had come around to wanting to help the man and his family.
He’d been aware of a couple in the booth behind him, a good reason to have kept his voice low and avoid using names. It was why he’d cut Lucy off when she’d started to say who’d just pulled her quilts from A Stitch in Time.
But he’d no sooner finished than he became aware that the woman behind him had slid off her seat to plant herself in front of their table.
This was why he’d wanted to get out of town.
“Chief Slater.” She nodded at him, then frowned at Daniel. “You’re Sheriff Byler, aren’t you?”
Daniel agreed he was. Ben saw that he wasn’t the only one whose instant reaction was wariness.
She switched her gaze to Ben. “I don’t usually eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help hearing. I was already mad enough about what Nadia has gone through, but now I realize how complacent I’ve been. I donated a quilt to the auction, convinced I’d done my part, but none of us have done enough.”
A man behind her said, “Colleen, maybe you shouldn’t bother these folks while they’re eating.”
Ben shook his head. “We don’t mind.” And he didn’t, not once she’d said her piece. He hoped he spoke for the rest. “You look familiar...”
“Oh, I should have introduced myself, shouldn’t I? I’m Colleen Hoefling, and this is my husband, Rob.”
Lucy leaned forward. “Nadia pointed out one of your quilts in her shop. It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you. That’s kind of you. Are you a quilter?”
“Only a beginner. I’m taking a class—” His sister shook her head. “Never mind that. Do you have an idea about how we can raise more money?”
“No, but there must be a way.”
“And if you manage to help one family, what about the others?” Ben felt obliged to insert.
“Even one family is a start.” This Colleen sounded as stubborn as Nadia could be.
“Ruth Graber and Katie-Ann Chupp have offered to donate the money they would otherwise earn when quilts sell to the aid organization,” Lucy put in.
“That’s a lovely, generous idea,” Colleen said decisively, “and I’ll do the same. But it’s not enough.”
Rebecca leaned forward. “What about doing something online?”
Colleen’s face lit. “Crowdfunding, right?”
“Yes,” Lucy crowed. “Ooh, that’s a great idea!”
Daniel grinned at Ben, who shook his head bemusedly. The women were off and running...and he knew darn well Nadia would be right with them.
Which was probably one reason he was falling in love with her, he thought ruefully, without feeling any surprise at using a word as new to him as the term crowdfunding probably would be to the Amish.
Of course, the Amish lived the concept, it occurred to him. Only the technology was new.
He tuned back in to find the women had already agreed on a meeting to make plans. They’d aim for Tuesday evening. Colleen had offered to host it and would ask friends to join them. Lucy promised to invite Nadia.
“I know Sondra Vance, the staff photographer at the Henness Herald, took hundreds of photos of the damage done by this spring’s tornadoes,” Ben contributed. “She was all but chasing the things. I’ll bet she’d let you use any you want for an online appeal.”
Rebecca said thoughtfully, “I remember the ones in the paper. They were really powerful. People picking through the ruins of their homes, animals injured, this horrible swath of destruction.”
Colleen nodded. “That one of dairy cows lining up to be milked in front of a flattened barn really got to me.”
Fired up, the three exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. Colleen’s husband grinned over his shoulder at the other two men as he and she left. Apparently, her instinctive urge to jump in with both feet had come as no surprise to him.
The rest of them finished eating, paid and walked out together. Daniel dropped back to join Ben. “I thought you said your sister is just here for a visit.”
Gaze on the back of Lucy’s head, Ben said, “Something tells me it’s going to be an extended visit.” Months instead of weeks. Or...forever? Watching as the two women hugged in parting, Ben wondered what Lucy really did have in mind.
* * *
NADIA JOINED IN the laughter as the Amish women teased each other. She had been flattered to be invited to this quilting bee—or would the Amish say it was a frolic? In fact, she was the only Englischer among them, but the eight women had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome.
Katie-Ann’s youngest daughter was due to have her first baby two weeks from now. Every time she had tried to stand up today to help in the kitchen, a chorus of voices ordered her to rest.
When Nadia arrived, two frames had been set up in the living room. The group had separated to hand quilt two crib-size bedcoverings for the new boppli, as the Amish said.
As they worked, there had been much teasing about which group would finish first. Susan Byler, who had introduced herself as the county sheriff’s mother, had only chuckled and said, “Fast is not always best.”
Their hostess Katie-Ann had only quilted intermittently. She was occupied with feeding such a crowd, which included her husband, two sons
and a teenage grandson who had also appeared midday for a meal, taking over the kitchen while the women ate outside, in the shade of a large, spreading maple tree.
As the chattering women prepared to depart, Nadia stopped to look closely at both quilts, needing only the binding to be finished. With so many hands wielding needles, she would have expected more variation in stitches, but these were astonishingly uniform.
When she remarked on it, Katie-Ann said comfortably, “Ach, we have done this so many times! The finest quilters make their stitches just a little longer, and those who are not so skilled do their very best.”
Nadia had quilted the way she always did, and wondered now if she hadn’t been steered to a group of women with similar expertise to hers.
“These both came out beautifully,” Nadia said. Mary King, Katie-Ann’s daughter, hadn’t had an ultrasound and therefore didn’t know whether she was having a boy or girl, so both quilts used fabrics and colors that would work for either gender.
“You will stay to eat, ja?” Katie-Ann asked. “Driving in the dark in a car is not so bad, ain’t so?”
Of course the other women would prefer to be home before dark, given that they were driving buggies. Yes, the local Amish all had battery-operated lights on their buggies, but they weren’t as bright as her car headlights. And at the speed a horse-drawn buggy was overtaken by a speeding car, the lights could be seen too late.
Katie-Ann’s menfolk were currently harnessing the women’s horses and bringing one buggy after another around front. A few of the quilters had come in pairs; one had walked, although Susan Byler insisted she would drive her home. Others must have miles to go.
“No, I don’t mind driving in the dark,” Nadia said, “but you don’t need company for another meal.”
“The more people at the table, the happier I am,” Katie-Ann assured her. “I have talked about you before. I think Elijah is glad to get to know you.”
In a quiet way, Katie-Ann’s husband had seemed curious, so Nadia agreed with no more argument even though, after the bounteous offerings at midday, she wasn’t hungry at all. Katie-Ann allowed her to set the table and pour drinks. Once they sat down, the crowd was nearly as large around the table as it had been for lunch. Mary was staying in her childhood bedroom for a few days since her husband, part of a carpentry crew, was away on a job. One of Katie-Ann’s daughters-in-law joined them with her three children, the oldest of which, a girl, hurried to help her grandmother with the meal although she couldn’t be more than eight or nine years old. The adults spoke English except when murmuring to the two younger children.
Elijah told Nadia he was sorry about all the foolishness over the money. “Ashamed, they will all be, when the truth comes out.”
“If it does,” she said wryly.
“You must have faith,” he said, and she knew he meant it literally.
Her smile and nod seemed to satisfy him. “Gut, gut,” he declared, before applying himself again to his meal.
Despite her hostess’s protests, Nadia insisted on helping clear the table after dinner and dried dishes while the others put away food. A cheerful woman who might have been a younger version of her mother, Mary was once again urged to “Rest.”
“I can help—”
“No, no, sit,” her sister-in-law told her sternly.
Nadia caught her rolling her eyes, and the two of them laughed.
Katie-Ann walked her out to her car. Bats darted against a deep purple sky. The wide doors on the barn stood open and the yellow light of lanterns showed inside, as the men had excused themselves from the table to feed animals. Without even a hint of a breeze to stir the leaves on the trees, the silence was uncanny.
There’d been no way she could turn down the leftovers Katie-Ann pressed on her. After setting the heavy basket on the passenger seat, Nadia closed the car door. She winced at the noise.
“It’s so quiet.” Instinctively, she kept her voice soft.
“Ja, we don’t have so many cars down this road, and the closest Englischers are Don and Gale Amundson, on the corner by the stop sign. Nice people they are, but we’re glad not to have their outside lights right next door, or the sound of their television and the music their fifteen-year-old son plays so loud.”
“I’ve never lived in the country. Even in a town as small as Byrum.”
“Small, is it?” Katie-Ann chuckled. “To me it seems so busy. Cars and stoplights and people rushing in and out of stores.”
“I can see that.” Nadia gave her a quick hug. “This was a wonderful day. Thank you for inviting me. I’m excited to hear when Mary has her baby.”
“You are wilkom any time.” This time, Katie-Ann initiated the hug. “Elijah is right. People are acting crazy. They will come to their senses.”
Nadia’s smile was more forced, but she said, “I hope you’re right. Good night, Katie-Ann.”
By the time she drove away, the murky light had deepened toward full night. As she turned onto the paved road, her headlights picked out a small animal racing across in front of her. A rabbit, she thought, but as fast as it moved, she couldn’t be sure.
Just for now, she didn’t let herself think about her problems. She had made up her mind last week to close the store on Mondays, and updated the sign and her website to reflect the change. Taking today off had been a relief. Plus, she loved quilting with other women who felt the same, and the sense of achievement was heartwarming. The friendliness and generosity with which she’d been met gave her a lift, too.
Full night had fallen by the time she turned into the alley behind her building. The only light was one above a door at the far end. Mr. Orton must have already gone to bed, since no glow shone from his apartment window. She’d have left her own back light on if she’d expected to stay as late as she had, but really it wasn’t far to the door once she parked in her usual spot out of the way of the garbage truck that would lumber down the alley Wednesday morning to empty the Dumpsters. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t returned after dark before, especially in the late winter and early spring, when days were shorter. Besides, she wasn’t carrying anything of value this time, she thought wryly.
Getting out of her car and locking, Nadia wondered whether the thief had waited out here that night, expecting to be able to knock her down, maybe, and grab the money box without entering the building at all.
She hurried to the back door, keys in her hand. With touch alone, she fumbled a little getting the key in the lock. She hadn’t yet turned it when she heard an odd noise behind her. Metallic? Nadia turned to look even as her brain supplied the answer. A dog or raccoon or even a person had bumped the Dumpster. The metal had rebounded with a small clang.
Something moved between her car and the big bin. She had no chance to react before a shot rang out and almost simultaneously something pinged off her metal door.
A bullet.
With a gasp, she whirled, hunched low and turned the key. Bang. Bang. Time slowed, and the air felt thick and hard to move through. Her shoulder burned and she couldn’t seem to lift her left hand. Too far away, voices called out. She pulled the door open, only her grip on the knob holding her up.
And then she fell forward through the opening, into darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“BEN?”
If Nadia’s name hadn’t come up when he answered the phone, he wouldn’t have recognized her voice in the single, shaky word.
“Nadia?”
“I know I said I’d never call you again, but...I think I need you.”
He lunged forward in his recliner, stabbing a button on the remote to turn off the television. Lucy was calling something from his home office where she had been researching crowdfunding on her laptop, but he was focused entirely on the phone.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Somebody t
ried to shoot me.”
His heart lurched.
“I guess somebody did shoot me.” Nadia sounded vaguely surprised, which told him she was in shock. “Again.”
“Where are you?” he asked urgently. “Are you safe?”
“I feel kind of strange. I think I’m going to be sick.” A clunk told him she’d dropped the phone.
He moved fast, grabbing his gun from a side table and his keys from the small dish where he dropped them whenever he got home.
Lucy had come out into the hall, alarm on her face.
“I have to go,” he said. “Lock behind me.”
Using his lights and siren, Ben drove faster than he should have. On the way, he called dispatch, to be told units were already en route. Either she’d called 911, or neighbors had. With traffic scant, he made it downtown in less than four minutes and swerved into the alley.
A police car blocked the far end. He braked where he was, left headlights on to illuminate the stretch right behind her store and ran.
A uniformed officer standing in the door opening turned at the sound of running footsteps.
“Chief. I was just going to call you.”
“Nadia did.”
Officer Ackley held up a hand. “Wait. You better not come in this way. There’s blood on the door and concrete pad. I unlocked the front for the paramedics.”
Ben wanted to swear viciously, but managed to hold back. Dennis Ackley was right to stop him from contaminating the scene. And at least Nadia was already receiving care.
“Nadia?” he asked anyway.
“Awake and talking.”
All Ben wanted was to get to Nadia, but he had to do his job. Story of his life.
“Have you searched out here?”
“Only to shine a flashlight behind the Dumpsters and the parked cars, but I didn’t see anybody. They must have taken off.”
“Okay. I’ll find out what happened from Nadia. When backup gets here, I want the alley taped off.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben ran the way he’d come, turned off the headlights but left on the flashing lights, and then on foot circled to the front door of her building.
Her Amish Protectors Page 16
