by Debby Giusti
“Your Gott, as you say, did not save your wife. He won’t save me. I have to take care of myself.”
Abram’s silence tore through Miriam’s heart. She’d hit a nerve that was too sensitive and too painful. Instantly she regretted her caustic tongue.
She had no reason to bring more pain to Abram’s life. He carried enough of his own.
“I’m sorry.” She turned, hoping he would see the depth of her contrition and her desire to make amends.
Another burst of wind tore along the riverbank, caught her full skirt and caused it to billow out around her legs. The strength of the blast of air threw her completely off balance. Suddenly the trees, the broken bridge and the water below swirled around her.
“Abram!” she screamed as she started to topple off the bridge.
Her fall was aborted by Abram’s strong hands that gripped her tightly and pulled her into the safety of his embrace.
She gasped, thinking they both would tumble into the water. He pulled her even closer and lifted her into his arms.
“No,” she moaned. “Let me go.”
“Do as I say.” He swept her off the bridge and carried her to his buggy.
She fought against his hold. He had saved her from the river, but she couldn’t return to his farm.
“Shh,” he soothed. “You must be quiet.”
“I will not be silent.” She struggled to free herself from his hold.
“It is for your own good,” he warned.
“You cannot control me.”
“This I know to be true, Miriam. But you must listen and comply. Do you not hear the car? He is coming to find you.”
Miriam stilled and turned her face toward the sound, somewhat muffled and hard to distinguish over the tumbling water and the wind rustling through the trees.
The sky overhead darkened even more. Her stomach tightened. She knew what the sound of the engine meant. Serpent was coming after her.
If he found her, he wouldn’t let her live to escape again.
* * *
Relieved that he had successfully tucked Miriam into the rear of the buggy moments earlier, Abram now stood next to Nellie and watched Serpent’s car screech to a halt at the edge of the road. The swollen river pounded over the rocks and rushed under the bridge. Overhead the sky darkened with an approaching storm that appeared to be as volatile as the man climbing from his car.
“Stop where you are.” Serpent’s voice was laced with anger.
“What do you want?” Abram demanded.
“I want the woman in the buggy with you. I saw her foot as she climbed in. You’ve been hiding Miriam Miller somewhere near your farm.”
“I am not sure the woman you speak of has done anything wrong.”
“She’s a suspected murderer and you’re a fool to believe anything she says otherwise.”
Serpent pulled a weapon from his waistband. “Tell her to step down from the buggy or I’ll start shooting.”
“Then you will be a killer.”
“I’ll kill you if you stop me from apprehending her.”
He cocked his gun and aimed it at the buggy.
Abram started walking toward Serpent.
“Wait, my brother.”
He turned at the sound of Emma’s voice and, although concerned for her well-being, he was grateful his sister had insisted on coming with him. She climbed from the buggy.
“I do not understand why you needed to see me, sir.” Emma’s voice was calm and engaging as she stared at Serpent. “Surely, I have done nothing to cause you upset.”
The man’s face twisted. He glanced from Abram to Emma.
“Put down your gun,” Abram demanded.
Serpent shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of tricks you and your sister are playing, Zook, but I’m convinced you know where the woman is hiding. She’s a criminal, and if you help her escape, you’ll be prosecuted and sent to jail, along with your sister.”
His gaze flickered to the surrounding countryside. “I searched your farm last night.”
Abram’s instincts had been right after all.
“She might not be holed up on your property,” Serpent continued, “but I’m convinced she’s hiding someplace not far from here. I’ll keep watching, and if you make a misstep, it will be your last.”
“You do not frighten me.”
“That’s because of your false Amish pride. But pride can’t stop a bullet and pride can’t make a woman come back to life. Tell the woman you’re protecting that I’m coming after her. And tell your Amish friends that if they’re hiding her, I’ll send them to jail. The bottom line is that I’ll find her, Zook.” He started to get into his car and then added, “Next time she won’t get away.”
* * *
“I can’t stay with you any longer,” Miriam insisted from the rear of the buggy once Serpent’s car had disappeared from sight.
Abram helped Emma into the front seat and climbed in beside her.
“Serpent was ready to kill both of you when he thought I was hiding in the buggy,” Miriam continued. “As gracious as you were, Emma, to confront him, you were putting yourself in danger. What would have happened if he had stepped closer and found me hiding in the rear?”
Tears welled up in Miriam’s eyes. She couldn’t let any harm come to Abram and Emma. “Take me to the Rogers’s house. I’ll email my sister and wait for her there.”
“Mr. Rogers and his wife are visiting their daughter in Nashville.” Abram grabbed the reins. “They will not be home until next week.”
Emma glanced back at Miriam. “I’m sorry, I did not know about their trip.” Her voice was filled with regret. “I never thought you would try to find their farm alone. You should have told us what you needed.”
But she had told them she needed to contact her sister. Neither Abram nor Emma realized what was at stake. If Serpent was part of a trafficking ring, the whole county would be impacted negatively by his criminal activity.
“We should all leave here and go someplace safe,” Miriam suggested. “Come with me to Atlanta.”
Abram grunted and flipped the reins, causing the horse to increase her speed. “A farm must be maintained. I cannot leave my animals.”
“Just until I can tell my story to honest lawmen who will come after Serpent.”
“Samuel will return to Willkommen tomorrow, Miriam. We will go to town for the market. You can talk to him then.”
But would he believe her story?
Miriam rubbed her forehead, hoping to ease the pounding headache that had started while she was on the bridge.
Jammed into the rear of the buggy, she felt lost. Would she ever get to Atlanta? Yet leaving meant saying goodbye to Abram, which was the last thing she wanted to do.
TWELVE
On the way back to the house Abram kept a sharp eye on the road and listened for Serpent’s car. He needed to keep Miriam out of sight and out of the vile man’s grasp until his uncle returned to Willkommen.
Pulling into the drive, Abram hopped out of the buggy and closed the gate behind them. Usually it stood open to welcome all. Under the circumstances, Abram needed to use any means to keep Serpent at bay. A gate was not much of a barrier, but it would stop unwanted visitors from driving directly to the house.
“I do not want to raise my hand against another man, but Serpent must be stopped,” Abram mumbled to himself after the women had hurried into the house. “I will not let him harm Miriam or Emma.”
Hopefully, Gott would provide the protection they needed so Abram could maintain his desire for good and still hide Miriam’s whereabouts. From what Serpent had said, it sounded as if he thought Miriam was holed up someplace away from the farm, for which Abram was grateful.
The storm clouds that had gro
wn darker over the morning at the river’s edge now turned the day into night. His trusty dog trotted to greet him as he unhitched Nellie in the barn and quickly groomed her.
“Remember the serpent, Bear. We must be vigilant and ensure he does no harm.” Once Nellie was settled in her stall, Abram hurried to the house, but he could not outrun the downpour. The sky opened and the rain fell with fury.
The walkway turned to mud and caught at Abram’s footsteps. Lightening cut across the menacing sky followed by a deafening roar of thunder.
He stomped his feet on the porch to loosen the mud from his boots before he stepped into the warmth and comfort of his kitchen.
Miriam stood at the dry sink with her back to him, her skirts full around her legs. She appeared to be beating batter in a bowl.
For a moment his heart stopped, thinking it was Rebecca. Then she turned and he was struck again by the reality of who had changed his life.
The woman at the dry sink was not his wife. She was Miriam with her troubled gaze and eyes that studied him far too deeply as if always questioning his reaction.
He could not let her know the way his heart lurched and his lungs constricted, making each breath difficult when he was around her.
He was not thinking of his wife or the past, which is what Miriam had mentioned in her anger at the river’s edge. He was thinking of this newcomer to his life who had shattered his plain world and caused him to think thoughts of a new beginning and hope for the future. But she was not interested in an Amish man who disavowed all the technology and electrical devices she was used to having in her Englisch world. Nor was she interested in embracing his Amish faith, which meant there could be no future for them. Abram was a fool to allow his heart to have dominance over his reasoning.
He steeled his gaze and pulled in a deep breath, struggling to maintain a firm control of his voice and his actions. He had to be strong and assertive to guard his heart and his life.
He didn’t need Miriam to disrupt the status quo and cause him to think of what could be. What could be was not reality, and Abram lived in the real world. A world of hard work and faith in Gott. A world where family came first and the Englisch ways were kept from polluting the serenity of the Amish life.
Miriam would never understand him or his ways, which meant there was no hope for them. Ever.
End of subject.
“You’re wet, Abram. I will make coffee. Sit by the fire to get warm.”
Her sincere concern caused another knife to jab at his heart. Her voice was smooth as honey and equally as sweet, and the firm resolve that he had convinced himself was necessary suddenly crumbled. All he wanted was to pull her into his arms, as he had done at the bridge when he had feared she would fall into the water.
Had she felt the erratic pounding of his heart? Did she know how much he longed to have her in his arms again?
Silly, foolish feelings that were not to be allowed.
Without so much as a word, he walked past her and hurried up the stairs to his bedroom. The room where he and his wife had shared the joys of wedded life, but also the room where her life had ended along with the baby’s. The Lord giveth life and the Lord taketh life away.
And now?
Was the Lord giving Abram a new life? Or was he ripping out his heart and sucking the very breath from him so that nothing in the future would ever compare with Miriam?
Abram slammed the bedroom door behind him and reached for his Bible. The scriptures had comforted him after Rebecca’s death.
Would he find comfort from the readings now? Or would even the Word of Gott bring added confusion?
Why had Miriam sought refuge in Abram’s arms when she was running from Serpent?
Abram knew the reason.
Gott had known his loneliness and had longed to bring comfort, but instead of comfort, Miriam’s presence had brought chaos and tumult.
“Forgive me.” Abram shook his head as he prayed. “I know not what to do.”
* * *
The kitchen grew dark, making Miriam long for electricity and lights. Emma stood at the stove, stirring red sauce, seemingly unaware of the dark skies and pounding rain that thrummed against the tin roof. The downpour grew in intensity. Thunder roared and lightning flashed through the darkness with bursts of brightness.
Miriam shivered, chilled by the fury of the storm.
“We are safe here in the house,” Emma assured her, no doubt seeing Miriam grimace as each roll of thunder rumbled overhead.
“I don’t like storms,” she stated emphatically.
“Rain is good for the land. Abram will till the fields soon. The rain will help to soften the soil.”
“Rain doesn’t bother me, but lightning and thunder do.”
Emma glanced out the window. Miriam followed her gaze. Visibility was worse than poor, making the barn and pastures beyond blurred by the downpour.
“You would still be walking to the Rogers’ home if Abram had not taken the buggy to find you.”
Miriam looked at the Amish woman. “I appreciate his thoughtfulness.”
Emma added salt to the sauce. “You do not understand Amish men.”
Miriam raised her brow. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“An Amish man is proud. He works hard. He takes care of his family, his wife, his children. He is the leader of the family. He embraces the Word of Gott and lives by the teachings of Christ.”
“Englisch men do the same. At least, some of them.”
“Perhaps, but Amish men commit totally to the women they love.”
“Good men exist outside the Amish community,” Miriam insisted. Yet the one man who had broken through her guarded heart was Amish.
Miriam swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “You don’t have to spell out what you’re trying to tell me.”
The Amish woman raised a brow. “You understand then?”
“I understand Abram still loves his wife.”
Emma shook her head. “Then you don’t understand.”
Miriam sighed with exasperation. “What are you trying to say, Emma?”
“Do you see the way he looks at you?”
“Of course, and I know why. I’m wearing his wife’s clothing. He looks at me with longing because he longs for Rebecca.”
Emma harrumphed. “Is that what you think? I noticed that you washed your clothing, but they were hanging outside and got wet in the rain. I moved them into the barn to dry.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Just like you aren’t thinking correctly about Abram. Wear your fancy clothes and see how he looks at you then.”
“I wouldn’t call my jeans and sweater fancy.”
“Fancy is a term we Amish use for anything other than our plain clothing. You understand? It is an expression, yah? But you talk around my comment.”
“You mean Abram won’t look at me at all if I wear regular clothes?”
Emma shook her head and sighed. “It is not something we need to discuss further. Our midday meal must be cooked.”
Miriam didn’t understand the sharpness of Emma’s tone. She sounded as if she was accusing Miriam of being the one at fault.
How could that be? Miriam had done nothing to provoke Abram or his sister. All too quickly she realized her mistake. Miriam had brought tumult and danger to their peaceful lives.
THIRTEEN
The sound of a car engine forced Abram to gaze from his bedroom window. The deputy sheriff’s squad car pulled into the drive. Curtis Idler braked to a stop, left the dryness of his car and opened the gate. Rain drenched him in seconds. His face seemed twisted with frustration as he climbed back into his car and drove into the yard. He parked near the back porch and eyed the sky through the window. The rain eased and he took th
e opportunity to leave the protection of his car and run to the porch.
He banged on the door.
“Abram?” Emma called from the first floor.
Racing downstairs, Abram passed his sister and hurried into the kitchen. Miriam had backed into the pantry, her eyes wide with worry.
“It is the deputy from town. My uncle trusts him. Perhaps you should too.”
“No, Abram. I can’t.”
“You have nothing to fear, Miriam.”
“Not today. I’ll wait until your uncle returns.”
He did not understand her hesitancy when she had been so eager to go to town.
“Please, Abram.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I can’t explain my feelings, but don’t make me talk to anyone now.”
She glanced at the kitchen door as once again the deputy knocked, demanding entrance.
“Hurry upstairs,” Abram said, seeing the worry that tightened her face. “I will call you when he is gone.”
Gathering her skirts in her hands, she ran from the room. Her footfalls sounded as she climbed the stairs. The click of the bedroom door closing gave a sense of finality to her departure.
“Get coffee,” Abram told Emma. “The deputy is wet from the rain.”
Opening the door, he motioned the man inside. Idler wiped his feet on the braided rug Rebecca had made and stepped toward the table.
“Coffee sounds perfect,” Curtis said after Abram had made the offer. “The rain’s coming down so hard I couldn’t see.”
“You are far from town.” Abram stated the obvious.
Emma poured a cup of coffee and placed it on the table in front of the lawman.
“There is fresh cream and sugar.” She pointed to the cream pitcher and bowl of sugar on the table.
He shook his head. “Black is fine. I didn’t come for refreshment.”
Abram accepted a cup from his sister, took a long pull of the hot brew and eyed the deputy, waiting for him to divulge the reason for this second visit within two days.
“Sheriff Kurtz isn’t sure he’ll get back to town tomorrow. He put me in charge until he returns.”
