by Debby Giusti
Someone stepped onto the porch.
Miriam.
Abram’s gut tightened.
Serpent pulled something from his waistband. The moonlight reflected off the object.
Abram’s heart stopped at the sight of the handgun.
“No!” he screamed.
Serpent turned toward Abram, standing in the darkness.
“Where’s the woman hiding, Zook?”
“I told you to stay away from me, my sister, my farm and—”
Before Abram could complete the warning, the intruder took aim and fired. A muffled rapport. The man was using a silencer.
The bullet pinged off the nearby water pump.
“I’ll kill you, Zook, but I’ll kill your sister first.” He fired again, this time at the shadowed figure standing on the porch.
Abram’s breath caught in his throat. He raised the rifle and fired. Bear raced from the barn, growling with teeth bared. He lunged at Serpent. The man turned, nearly tripping over his feet as he ran, cursing, into the night.
“Abram?” Miriam’s voice, laced with fright. She fled back into the house.
He ran forward, his heart thumping at what he might find. After entering the kitchen, he closed and locked the door and propped the rifle against the wall, all the while searching the darkness with his gaze.
“Miriam,” he called, fearing the worst and praying he was wrong.
He raced into the main room where he found her slumped over the stairs. In three long strides he was at her side, pulling her into his arms. His hands touched her neck, her cheeks, her waist, searching for a gaping hole or blood that would confirm she was hurt.
“You are injured?” he asked, fearing her answer.
She gasped for air. Tears fell from her eyes.
“You were hurt?” Abram restated his question. Why did she not answer him?
His hands wove into her hair, not the bun that she usually wore, but long, flowing locks that fell around her shoulders.
Moonlight filtered through the nearby window and bathed them in its glow.
“Tell me you are all right,” he demanded, his voice insistent.
“I’m...” She tried to speak. “I’m not hurt. The bullet whizzed past me. I could feel the force of its momentum, but the round did not strike me. At first I couldn’t understand what had happened. The sound was muffled. I thought gunfire was louder?”
“He used a silencer.” Unable to think of what he would have done if she had been injured, Abram pulled her close and silently gave thanks.
He did not deserve Gott’s blessings, but Miriam did not deserve Gott’s condemnation.
“You might not have recognized him,” she said, her voice low and filled with emotion. “The moon peered from the clouds as he approached the house. I saw his face. It was Serpent.”
“He mentioned my sister.” Abram tried to reassure her. “Serpent thought Emma was on the porch. He wanted to kill her to get back at me.”
“But I was the target, Abram.”
“What happened?” As if hearing her name, Emma came to the top of the stairs, holding an oil lamp. Her face was puffy with sleep yet pulled tight with concern as she stared down at them.
“Serpent came back,” Miriam said, staring into Abram’s eyes. “He nearly killed me once. He tried to kill me again.”
FIFTEEN
Morning came too early for Miriam. Emma rapped at her bedroom door before the first light of dawn. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
Miriam rubbed her eyes and tried to wipe away the grogginess that hung on after her restless night. Sleep had eluded her. She had heard Abram pace through the house, no doubt, standing guard lest Serpent return. Abram’s vigilance had put her even more on edge, knowing that Serpent could still be nearby. More than anything, she longed to erase everything that had happened and fall into a deep sleep.
Then she remembered today was market day. That meant a trip to Willkommen where she could find an internet connection and contact Hannah. She also hoped to find information about her aunt. If Sheriff Kurtz was back in town, she would tell him what had happened so he could arrest Serpent and throw the wicked man in jail.
Slipping from bed, she donned the fresh blue dress she had found in the trunk. After pulling her hair into a bun, she put on the white kapp Emma had showed her how to wear and an apron.
The rich aroma of fresh-baked biscuits assailed her as she entered the kitchen. Coffee perked on the stove.
Emma smiled in greeting. “The dress fits you well.”
“I found it in the trunk.” Miriam ran her hand over the full skirt. “Will it upset Abram to see me wearing this dress?”
“His thoughts are on the present, Miriam. He will not notice the dress but rather the woman wearing the dress.”
The comment took Miriam aback. Her heart fluttered as she hurried to the kitchen door. “I’ll get the milk from outside.”
She stopped short before she grabbed the doorknob, thinking of what had happened last night and the bullet that had been too close.
“Stay here,” Emma cautioned. “Abram will bring the milk when he returns from the barn. I’m sure he wants you to remain inside for your own safety.”
Miriam appreciated Abram’s concern for her well-being and thought again of his embrace last night. He had held her tight, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Foolish though it was, Miriam hadn’t wanted to leave his arms.
A knock sounded at the kitchen door. Miriam eyed Emma.
“It’s Abram,” his sister assured her. “Will you open the door? His hands are probably full with the milk and butter.”
Miriam pulled back the curtain that covered the window and peered out just to be sure. Her heart thumped in response to Abram’s handsome face that stared at her through the glass. Just as Emma had said, he carried a jug of milk in one hand and a glass container of butter in the other.
“Sorry,” she said as she threw open the door. “I wanted to be certain it was you.”
He stepped inside, bringing in fresh morning air and the scent of the outdoors. “That was wise after last night.”
She closed and locked the door behind him.
Emma, her hand poised over a skillet of scrambled eggs, stared at both of them. “This man is even worse than we first believed. He must be stopped.”
Abram nodded in agreement. “That is why Miriam will talk to Samuel. He will track down Serpent and arrest him.”
“If only he can find any other men who are involved.” Emma spoke the words that troubled Miriam.
So much depended on today and how the sheriff would respond to the information she planned to provide.
Emma’s brow lifted as she raised the skillet off the stove. “You are sure Samuel will be back in Willkommen today?”
Abram poured himself a cup of coffee and one for Miriam, which she gladly accepted.
“Samuel planned to be gone three days, but Curtis mentioned that the sheriff could be delayed longer. We will find out when we get to town.”
“Daniel asked yesterday if he could ride to market with us.” Emma plated the food. “I told him we could not give him a ride. I am concerned about the boy’s safety in case anything happens.”
“Because of me.” Miriam gave voice to what Emma had failed to mention. “My presence here puts all of you in danger.”
“It is not because of you,” Emma quickly explained. “You are an innocent victim, Miriam. Serpent is the one at fault.”
“Emma is right,” Abram insisted. “The serpent is the problem. He could make more trouble. If so, we do not want Daniel to be caught in the conflict.”
“That’s what I told Isaac,” Emma said with a nod. “He is worried about our safety, but he is especially concerned for his son.”
“Yah, I do not blame Isaac.” Abram refilled his cup. “The boy is precocious and smart as a whip.”
“He’s stolen my heart,” Miriam said.
Emma placed the plates on the table. “Mine, as well.”
“We will see him later today when Isaac comes to town. Daniel is never far from his father’s side,” Abram stated.
“Isaac seems like a nice man,” Miriam mused, watching Emma’s expression soften with the mention of the neighbor’s name.
“Yet—” Abram took a long pull from his coffee “—Isaac does not keep the Old Order.”
Emma put her hands on her hips. “We are not still in Ethridge.”
“The old ways were good ways,” he insisted.
“Then perhaps you should have stayed in Tennessee.”
Miriam had never seen Emma so determined to make a point or so vocal. Her frustration with her brother was evident as she threw the biscuits in a basket and set them on the table.
As if trying to ignore Emma’s outburst, Abram pointed Miriam to the table. “We must eat now.”
They each took their seats and bowed their heads as he offered a prayer. “Gott, we give thanks for the food You provide and for our ability to farm the land and prepare this meal. May the work of our hands give honor to You. Amen.”
The tension remained taut as they ate in silence. Once finished, Abram rose from the table. “It is time to pack the buggy. The road is long and we must get to market in time to unload and set up our stall.”
Miriam hadn’t finished her breakfast, but thinking about what they might face later today had taken away her appetite. Emma’s eyes were downcast and she toyed with her food. Was she upset with Miriam for disrupting their lives?
“I’ll wash the dishes, Emma. I’m sure you need to help Abram load the buggy.” After grabbing her plate and silverware, Miriam hurried to the sink.
Abram left the table and headed for the door. “I will hitch Nellie and bring the buggy to the side of the house.”
The door slammed behind him, causing Miriam’s heart to lunge in her chest. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
“He is not angry with you, Miriam, he is angry with himself. He fights an inner battle. My brother holds on to the past, yet we know when things are gripped too tightly, they sometimes break. Abram feels his life shattering around him.”
“I did it. Coming here was a mistake.”
Emma placed her plate on the counter and gently touched Miriam’s arm. “Abram struggled to follow the Amish way in his youth. He made mistakes, as we often do.”
Miriam thought of her own mistake in driving her mother and sister to Georgia.
“Our father is not one to easily forgive,” Emma continued. “Abram embraces the old ways in hopes of redeeming himself in our father’s eyes. Yet nothing can remain as it once was. Life is a process. No one stays an infant. Growth and change are a part of life just as life and death are part of the cycle.”
Looking down at the dress she wore, Miriam regretted the role she played in Abram’s struggle. “I have opened old wounds and caused his grief to return anew.”
“It is not you,” Emma assured her. “Abram needs to forgive himself. Right now he thinks only of his pain. That is self-seeking. He is a better man than that. You have allowed him to dream of what could be. That frightens him. He is not ready to leave the world of grief and guilt he has created.”
Emma’s words were as confusing as the Amish way. Abram’s life never would have changed if Miriam hadn’t collapsed on his front porch.
She had questioned why she hadn’t gone somewhere else. The neighbor’s perhaps. Although other than Isaac’s dairy, there were no other homes for miles. What if she hadn’t found Abram? She would have wandered through the dark and never come upon a safe refuge.
But Abram’s house had been lit; she’d seen the light in the window that had beckoned her. The middle of the night, yet an Amish house had light? She reached for Emma’s plate. Had that light been a sign from the Lord so she would find her way?
She shivered, thinking of Serpent following close behind her. She had been exhausted, hungry, weak from lack of food and unable to think rationally or make good decisions.
The truth was Serpent would have found her.
Miriam rung out the dishcloth and watched the water drop back into the sink. The thought of what would have happened made her feel as limp as the dishrag.
Thankfully, Abram had given her shelter and refuge. He had saved her life and kept her safe.
Emma returned from outside and shook her head. “My brother is far too impatient today. He stayed awake keeping watch through the night. He is tired and worried for our safety as we go to town.” She scurried to retrieve more baked goods from the pantry as Miriam bowed her head.
“Thank you, Lord. You brought me to Abram. I’m sorry for the upset I’ve caused in his life, but I’m grateful he saved me. Keep all of us safe, Lord, especially today.”
The kitchen door opened and Abram stepped inside and wiped his feet on the rug. His gaze went to Miriam with question. “You are all right?”
“I was saying a prayer for our safety today and giving thanks that you saved my life.”
“I did not save you, Miriam. You saved yourself.”
* * *
Abram was grateful for the clear sky and cool morning air as they rode to Willkommen. Emma was next to him, Miriam sat far in the rear, hidden from sight. She wore a white kapp covered with a black bonnet that pulled around her oval face and a cape that she held tightly around her neck. Thanks to the Amish clothing, even Serpent would be hard-pressed to recognize her if they came face-to-face.
The ride took longer than usual. Or perhaps it seemed long because of his anxiety about being out in the open, with no protection, when a man sought to do Miriam harm.
The tension he was feeling eased a bit when the town appeared in the distance. He flicked the reins and Nellie picked up speed, enjoying the exercise.
“A good horse provides for a man, just like a good wife,” his father had said, but his father had embraced the old ways and never bent, even ever so slightly. After the accident had injured Emma’s leg, he had not allowed the Englisch doctor to set her foot, leaving Emma with a decided limp and a constant reminder to Abram of his own carelessness.
The accident had happened when he was fourteen years old and he had carried the burden of guilt ever since. If only he had learned from his mistakes, yet he had remained stubborn when Rebecca’s time of confinement had come to completion. Why had he not taken her to the Englisch hospital with her first labor pains?
“Is something wrong?” Miriam asked as if she could sense his internal struggle. The woman was amazingly astute and attuned to the way Abram responded to the world. His world. The Amish world.
“Nothing is wrong,” he assured her. Except Miriam was in danger and Abram feared for her safety. “We will be at the market soon.”
Blocks of small shops and diners welcomed them to Willkommen. People hurried along the sidewalks and cars zipped past them on the road. Abram pulled on the reins for Nellie to halt at the first intersection. As soon as the light turned green, he flicked his gaze right then left, checking for traffic, before he nudged Nellie forward. The mare entered the intersection.
From out of nowhere a car, approaching from the intersecting roadway on the left, ran the red light and headed straight toward them. Abram’s heart slammed into his chest. Emma screamed. He pulled back sharply on the reins as the car sped past.
“We could have been killed,” Emma gasped as she stared after the fast-moving vehicle.
“The driver—” Miriam’s voice was tight with emotion. “Did you see him?”
Abram shook his head. “I saw only the flash as the car passed too close to Nellie.”
“He had craz
ed eyes and a sneer on his face,” Emma said. “It seemed as if he sped up as he entered the intersection. His eyes were on the road as he raced through the light. I do not believe he even saw the buggy.”
“Gott kept us safe,” Abram said to calm the fear he heard in his sister’s voice. But Emma was right. The driver had increased his speed.
“I saw his face.” Miriam’s voice was cold as ice.
A chill tingled Abram’s neck and tangled down his spine.
Her next statement came as a whisper filled with warning. “The man driving the car was Serpent.”
SIXTEEN
Miriam couldn’t calm her racing heart even as she helped Emma and Abram unload the baked goods and crafts. They quickly set up a table at the side of the large hall, near a partitioned alcove where Miriam could hide if Serpent or anyone else involved with the Petersville police stepped inside. Abram and Emma seemed as aware of the danger as Miriam did. They hovered close and kept their eyes on the main door where shoppers, mainly Englisch ladies, started to appear.
Once the baked goods were arranged, Miriam turned to Abram. “I need to use a computer to contact my sister,” she reminded him.
“After I find out if Samuel has returned to town.”
Abram headed to the back door that led to the street where the buggy was parked. Through the open doorway, she watched him unload the handcrafted items he had made in his shop and carry them to the stall. Abram’s fine craftsmanship and attention to detail easily made his woodworking stand out from other similar items Miriam noticed for sale.
“You could open your own store,” she said as she placed his woodcrafts next to Emma’s pies.
He grumbled.
“You should take pride in your ability, Abram.”
“Pride is not from Gott. He gives gifts. It has nothing to do with me.”
“But you use those gifts to give Him glory. Your woodworking ability is amazing.”
“Your words puff me up too much, Miriam.”
“Humility is knowing from where your giftedness comes,” she countered.
Seemingly ignoring her words, Abram glanced around the marketplace then touched her arm. “Stay here with Emma. I will see if the sheriff has returned. His office is two blocks away, at the end of the alleyway in the rear of the market.”
