by Debby Giusti
“I’m sorry for your childhood, Curtis.” Samuel’s voice was filled with understanding. He took a step closer then extended his hand as if willing Curtis to give him the weapon. “I’ll get you help. Someone to talk to you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Curtis. I understand why you’re upset at your mother. Did you kill the woman because she reminded you of your mother?”
Curtis’s expression revealed the sheriff had hit too close to home. The deputy shook his head. “Shut up, Sam. Don’t talk about my childhood.”
“You were a good kid. Your mother loved you. Something unforeseen must have happened to her so she couldn’t get back to you.” Another step. “Now give me the weapon. You can trust me.”
Sam lunged. Curtis fired. The sheriff gasped, clutched his side and fell to the ground.
Abram raced toward the deputy. A second shot winged his chest and knocked the air from his lungs. He tumbled to the porch then crawled up the steps. Abram’s vision blurred and the cabin swirled around him. Time stood still for one long, painful moment, then...
Footsteps sounded. He looked up, seeing Miriam dragged from the cabin with her arms tied in front of her. Curtis yanked her down the steps and into the brush.
Abram stumbled toward Samuel and felt his neck for a pulse. He was breathing, but his pulse was erratic. Abram grabbed the sheriff’s cell and pressed the prompt for the dispatcher.
“The sheriff...needs an ambulance,” Abram said when the woman answered. He pulled in a deep breath and continued on. “The cabin...sits up the mountain behind Old Man Jacobs’s place. Have the sheriff’s office set up a roadblock at the fork in the road to town. Contact the Petersville police. Instruct them to block the mountain road that leads there, as well. Curtis Idler his taken a hostage and will be heading in one of those two directions.”
Samuel struggled to speak after Abram disconnected. “Go...now. Take...keys.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Abram insisted.
“You drive. You can. Remember... Trevor.”
Trevor, the friend who had taught Abram to drive, who had loaned him his radio, who had encouraged him to leave the Amish way of life.
“I...know...” Samuel gasped for air. “You were...behind...the wheel.”
The day of the accident. The day Trevor had died.
After Emma’s accident, Abram had gone joyriding with his friend. Trevor had let Abram drive. He’d been reckless, moving too fast on a windy lakeside road.
“Go...” Samuel insisted. “Now.”
“The ambulance is on the way. Hang on.”
Abram grabbed the keys from Samuel’s pocket and ran toward the clearing. He climbed behind the wheel of the sheriff’s squad car, remembering his youth and the times Trevor had let him drive.
He turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the accelerator. The car lurched forward. The radio squawked as the deputies called in their locations. They were still too far away to help.
Abram gripped the steering wheel, seeing Curtis in the distance. The deputy was driving much too fast along the winding mountain road. Abram was as well, but he could not let him get away with Miriam.
Isaac’s dairy came into view. He saw his own farm in the distance. Just so Emma and Isaac and little Daniel were still at the market and not anywhere near Curtis. Sirens sounded in the distance, approaching on the road from town. Their roadblock would stop the deputy. At least that was Abram’s hope.
The deputy’s car approached the fork. Abram’s heart stopped. Curtis took the road to the right, the road that passed Abram’s house. The road that led to the bridge.
“No,” Abram bellowed. The bridge looked stable enough, but the wood was rotten and would buckle with any weight. Miriam would be hurled into the water.
Just like Trevor so long ago.
Abram pushed the car faster. His hat flew off, his hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. He screeched around the bend. In the distance he saw the deputy’s car heading straight for the bridge. Abram laid on the horn, needing to warn him. Curtis had to stop.
Abram’s heart jammed in his throat as the deputy’s car sailed across the bridge. In a split second the wooden platform groaned then crumbled like a child’s toy, toppling the squad car—along with Miriam—into the raging river below.
Accelerating even faster, Abram drove to the edge of the bridge, screeched to a stop and leaped from the car. He threw off his jacket, kicked out of his shoes and dove into the water.
The frigid cold took his breath. He beat the rapid current with strong strokes that took him to the middle of the river. The car was already partially submerged.
Diving down into the murky river, he grabbed the passenger door that hung open and felt inside, searching for Miriam. She was not in the car, neither was Curtis. A cracked windshield big enough for a body to hurl through paralyzed him for one long moment.
Gott help me.
He surfaced for air, grabbed a breath and then dove deep again, beneath the car that was slowly sinking.
Miriam’s sweet face, her smile, her eyes...she was all he could think of.
Where was she?
He stretched his arms, thinking of Christ who had died on the cross. Gott, do not let her die.
His hand touched something. A piece of fabric. He pulled it close, feeling the softness of her flesh. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kicked to the surface.
Sheriffs’ cars clustered at the edge of the road. Police from Petersville had already lowered a boat into the water.
“Here!” Abram shouted, kicking his legs and holding Miriam close with one arm while he raised the other overhead.
“There’s Zook,” an officer shouted. “He’s got the woman.”
The boat neared. Hands reached for Miriam and pulled her from the water.
“I am all right. Get her to safety,” Abram insisted.
When he started to swim, he realized his folly. He could not move his left arm. An officer in a second boat pulled him to shore. “You’re wounded, Abram. It’s a wonder you could swim at all.”
But he had. He had found Miriam and saved her.
Once on land he raced to where she lay, pale as death, on a stretcher. “How is she?” he asked the medic who was working on her.
The EMT shook his head. “We’re taking her to the hospital.”
“I must go with her,” Abram insisted.
“You can’t. We’ll bring another ambulance. Looks like you need to be treated, as well.”
Abram’s heart broke as the EMTs lifted Miriam into the ambulance. Would he ever see her again or had Gott taken another woman from him? A woman he loved and wanted to cherish for the rest of his life?
Emma was right. He had lived too long in the past. He wanted a future with Miriam.
But would she survive?
TWENTY-SIX
Emma and Isaac met Abram at the hospital. They had brought fresh clothing that Abram changed into, grateful for their thoughtfulness, as well as a plastic bag containing Miriam’s belongings and her cell phone.
“How is she?” Emma asked, her face drawn and filled with worry.
He shook his head. “The doctor is with her.”
Emma touched his arm. “They said you saved her, Abram.”
He nodded.
“But you are wounded yourself, my brother.”
“The wound is not deep. It will heal.” He glanced at Isaac and then back at his sister. “Where is Daniel?”
“Eva Keim and her daughter are with him,” she reassured him. “And Samuel? Is there news?”
“In surgery.” Abram’s voice tightened. “If he survives, he will have a long recovery.”
“Curtis Idler’s body was found,” Isaac shared, his eyes downcast. “He did not survive.”
; Abram nodded. “Curtis was working with Serpent and is the one who killed Miriam’s mother.”
“What of the newly hired deputy?”
“Ned Quigley is a good man and a trusted officer of the law.”
The day passed slowly. Abram appreciated Emma and Isaac’s support, but his total focus was on Miriam.
The intensive care rules allowed visitors to be with the patients for only short periods. Abram’s gut wrenched each time he entered her room, seeing her hooked to machines that monitored her heart rate and blood pressure and other vital signs. An IV bag of medication hung by the side of her bed and dripped life-giving antibiotics into her vein. She had aspirated water and the doctor worried about pneumonia setting in.
Abram placed the bag containing her things on the stand by her bed and wondered how long it would be until she was alert enough to know it was there.
By late afternoon Isaac was growing fidgety and increasingly concerned about his dairy cows and their need to be milked.
“Go home,” Abram encouraged. “Take Emma with you. I will use the Amish Taxi and return to the farm later. The horses need to be watered and fed. The other animals, as well.”
“I can do the chores,” Emma offered.
“I appreciate your help, Emma, but you cannot do all of them.” He thought of his sister’s difficulty in walking. “You have already done so much for me. Go with Isaac. He needs you.”
“But—” She started to object.
Abram took her hand. “It is time for you to have a family of your own, Emma. You saved me after Rebecca’s death, for which I will always be grateful. Now it is time for you to embrace your own life.”
“Are you sure, Abram?”
“More than anything I want you to be happy. You forgave me, Emma, when I could not forgive myself. Now I must let go of the past.” He turned to look through the glass window into Miriam’s room. “Now I must focus on the future.”
Emma squeezed his hand. “I am praying for you, Abram, and for Miriam.” Turning, she wrapped her arm through Isaac’s. Together they walked out of the intensive care unit.
Once again Abram entered Miriam’s room. He drew a chair next to her bed and took her hand as he sat. Her hair was matted from the river and her slender face was ashen, but Abram had never seen a woman more beautiful or more courageous. She had been through so much.
The doctors said he had saved her in the nick of time. Although infection was a concern, they were more worried about the drugs Serpent had used to subdue her. If only she would open her eyes and respond.
Abram rubbed her hand and leaned closer to the bed.
“Miriam, I do not know if you can hear me. It is Abram. I was wrong about so many things, but I know one thing for certain. I love you with my whole heart. I need you. Come back to me.”
The nurse allowed him to remain at Miriam’s bedside far longer than the allotted visiting period, but later that evening she ushered him into the hallway. “Go home, Mr. Zook. I know you have a farm to tend. You can do nothing here. We expect her to sleep through the night and most of tomorrow. Come back in the afternoon. We’ll know more then.”
Abram’s heart was heavy as he rode home in Frank Evans’s taxi. Thankfully the driver did not chatter as he usually was prone to do. Perhaps he realized Abram needed time to think and pray.
Entering the house, Abram felt numb with confusion and worry. Emma was there to greet him, along with Isaac.
“How is she?” his sister asked as she poured a cup of coffee for Abram and set it on the table.
“The same. The nurse encouraged me to go home. I... I did not want to leave but...the farm.”
Isaac stepped forward. “I took care of the animals. You do not need to worry.”
But he was worried. He was worried about Miriam.
“As Emma mentioned at the hospital, Eva Keim and her daughter, Abagail, are keeping Daniel tonight,” Isaac continued. “I will pick him up tomorrow after the cows are milked. I can take you to the hospital before I get Daniel.”
Abram appreciated the offer.
“I have a plate for you to eat, Abram.” Emma ushered him toward the table. “You must be hungry.”
He could not eat. Not now. “I will eat tomorrow.”
Abram dragged himself upstairs. The door to Miriam’s room hung open. He looked in, remembering the night he had placed her on the bed with her blood-stained clothes and her bruised and scraped face.
His mind flashed back to the moments they had shared: walking along the pasture path, in the barn and workshop, and on the stairway when he had taken her into his arms.
His arms were empty now. Would he ever hold her again?
Entering his bedroom, he reached for his Bible, but he did not have the strength to open to the words of scripture. He merely clasped the well-read book to his heart.
Forgive me, Gott, for the mistakes I have made. I see more clearly now that I was the one at fault and not my datt. I could not save Trevor so long ago, but You helped me save Miriam. I can no longer look back, yet I know a future with Miriam will never be unless she comes into the Amish faith. Right now, I ask that You allow her to live. Even if she refuses my faith, I will never forget her and will never stop loving her from afar.
TWENTY-SEVEN
After a sleepless night Abram left his bed early to do the chores and get everything ready for his departure. He planned to stay at the hospital until Miriam was released. He would bring her home to recuperate here with him. With Emma’s good cooking and with the threat of Serpent gone, Miriam would heal both physically and emotionally.
True to his word, Isaac picked Abram up at his house and carted him to the county hospital.
“Shall I return this evening?” Isaac asked.
Abram appreciated the offer but he shook his head. “I will stay at the hospital tonight. I do not want to leave Miriam again.”
Isaac nodded. “Do not worry about the farm. I talked to Eva Keim’s twin sons. They will help.”
“You are a good neighbor, Isaac, and a good friend.”
“We take care of each other, Abram. It is the Amish way.”
The way of life Abram had always lived. Only once, in his turbulent youth, he had yearned for a more worldly life. Emma’s accident and Trevor’s death had brought him back to his Amish roots.
Gott had brought good from those two very tragic situations. Hopefully good would come from Miriam’s ordeal, as well. Abram had found the woman he wanted to walk with through life. If only she felt the same.
But she was an Englischer and he was plain. The divide stood between them. Hopefully it would not prove too large to reconcile.
Renewed in hope, he hurried into the hospital and headed for Intensive Care. He stopped at the nurses’ desk to speak to the kind woman wearing scrubs who had reached out to him yesterday.
“How is Miriam?” he asked.
The nurse’s smile was bright, which filled him with relief. “She had an amazing recovery. The effects of whatever drugs her captor had given her wore off last night. We started her on oral antibiotics and were able to release her from Intensive Care this morning.”
Abram lifted up a prayer of thanksgiving and then smiled back at the nurse, eager to see Miriam. “Could you tell me to which room you have moved her?”
The nurse’s face clouded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zook. She’s gone.”
His heart lurched. “What?”
“A reporter stopped by, asking questions.”
“A newspaper reporter?”
The nurse nodded. “That’s right. I think it worried her. Soon after that she checked herself out of the hospital against doctor’s orders. We would have liked her to stay another twelve hours or so, but we couldn’t keep her against her will. I thought she would have contacted you.”
“Where did she go?”
“I’m not sure. Do you know a man named Frank?”
“Yah, he runs the Amish Taxi.”
“He picked her up. Hopefully he can help you find her.”
“May I use your phone?”
“Of course.” She handed a phone to Abram and pointed to a small desk and chair in the corner. “You’ll have more privacy over there. Dial 8 to get an outside line.”
Abram’s hand was shaking as he plugged in the number for the taxi service. Frank answered on the first ring.
“Miriam Miller,” Abram said. “Where did you take her today?”
“To the bus station. She caught the bus to Atlanta.”
Abram’s world shattered. He sat clutching the phone, unwilling to accept what he had just heard.
Miriam had left him.
He had given her safe refuge. He had also given her his heart. But it was too little too late.
Miriam did not want an Amish man. She did not want Abram. No matter how much he wanted her.
Eleven days later...
Miriam walked to the window of the hotel room and looked at the street below where cars hurried, rushing through the city, heading to their destination. She had been in Atlanta for almost two weeks and had not found Hannah nor heard from her in all that time. Her older sister seemed to have disappeared just as surely as Sarah had.
Perhaps Hannah had discarded her old cell for a newer model with a new number and then left the city for places unknown. If so, the two sisters might never reconnect. The realization brought a heavy weight to rest on Miriam’s shoulders.
The neon sign for the bus station flashed in the distance and brought memories of the day she had arrived in Atlanta, expecting Hannah to meet her. Instead she had found only strangers in the station. Crestfallen, Miriam had made her way to the cheap hotel nearby where she had spent the night crying from loneliness and a confused heart.
