After he’d left her with a gentle kiss that required every ounce of self-control he could summon, he watched until she entered the house through the back door. Then he set off through the small orchard in what was becoming a familiar trek. This time, the owl’s soft whoo sounded like a greeting between friends.
He’d desperately wanted to kiss her as he had the night before, when he’d been so damn close to bearing her back on the bench and stripping off her undergarments, or lifting her skirts and adjusting her to straddle him. The vision was so vivid a groan escaped him. They might have gotten caught—but he was embarrassingly aware that once her snug body closed around him, he wouldn’t have lasted more than a minute. It had been too long since he’d had a woman—and he had wanted this one too long, besides.
It hadn’t been until later, when he was sneaking through the neighbor’s dark farmyard, that he realized he hadn’t had a condom with him. He’d like to think that would have stopped him...but wasn’t so sure.
Tonight, an odd thought struck him. In roughly the last hour, he and Rebecca had shared much more than he ever had with any woman he’d dated. In fact, all of their hushed meetings in the dark, sitting on porch steps or the bench behind the barn, were building a stronger foundation than would the sex he craved.
And yet he still felt helpless, unable to arrest the men hunting her. Or even to be sure she would stay once she was safe. He also knew he couldn’t let himself ask until she really had a choice.
* * *
GRATEFUL FOR THE slight padding provided by the horse blanket Amos had thoughtfully laid on the floor of the buggy, Rebecca started out cross-legged, skirts covering her to her stocking-clad ankles. But no position was very comfortable, and she had to keep shifting.
Even though the buggy was well sprung, it hit a hole in the road hard enough to bounce her. Wincing, she squirmed into another position.
The drone of the metal tire rims on the paved county road and the swaying of the buggy made her drowsy. Several cars passed, but she didn’t think any of them slowed to a crawl to allow someone to peer in the windows.
But the sound of increased traffic, cars and other buggies, banished her sleepiness. The dread she’d been trying to suppress poked its way free. Would Daniel stay or hand her over to Detective Estevez? Silly to be so anxious about talking to the man in person when she had already told him everything. The tightness in her chest didn’t ease. Detective Estevez had become a bogeyman, as frightening as all the other ones currently populating her head.
Possibly because he could arrest her.
Thank goodness for Caleb, Rebecca thought for at least the hundredth time. One of Amos and Barbara’s daughters had brought her children over, and Matthew had hardly noticed when his mother left.
Now, the buggy made several turns, Amos clucking once to his bay mare and saying, “Almost here,” ostensibly to Barbara but loudly enough for Rebecca to hear. A minute later, the mare slowed to a walk and then stopped when Amos said, “Whoa, Jessie.”
The buggy swayed some more as the two got out. The clank of a bucket and a sloshing sound suggested Amos was providing water for Jessie. Then Barbara’s voice drifted to Rebecca, receding as she spoke.
“I need a few things in Miller’s. And flannel and thread for a new nightgown.”
Amos’s answer was barely a rumble.
Rebecca got to her hands and knees, afraid to lift her head in case someone walked by.
Not a minute later, what sounded like a truck came slowly down the alley, stopping right beside Amos’s buggy. She had to believe it was Daniel, as planned, not Tim or Josh or one of their confederates. If she was wrong...she’d scream and struggle.
“Rebecca,” said a quiet voice.
She rose to a crouch and opened the door, scrambling ungracefully out and into the backseat of the black SUV with tinted windows. The door slammed shut, and no more than a few seconds later Daniel drove them away. He turned right out of the alley to avoid the main shopping street, then kept going.
Detective Estevez swiveled in the passenger seat and looked sourly at her. “Interesting getup.”
That stiffened her spine. “My family is Amish. I’m living plain.”
One of his heavy eyebrows lifted as he surveyed her with dark eyes. “You’re full of surprises, Ms. Holt. I sure never expected to have to travel halfway across the country to see you again.”
Her cheeks heated. “Staying in the city didn’t seem to be smart.”
“So Sheriff Byler tells me. I wish you had.”
“I should have come to you,” she made herself say. “But I didn’t think I’d live long enough to testify in any trial.”
“The sheriff here suggested you might be more afraid of the senior Mr. Gregory.”
“I never thought it was Robert trying to kill me. Just that if anything happened to me, he would swoop in and claim my son.” Discovering her arms were wrapped as tightly around herself as she could manage, Rebecca tried to make herself loosen them. Under that sour gaze, she failed.
“All right,” the detective said, still irritable but less aggressive. “We need to cover some of the same ground again. Let’s start at the beginning.”
First, he turned on a recorder and asked her to acknowledge that she knew she was being recorded and had given her permission.
Her eyes met Daniel’s in the rearview mirror. She drew strength from his presence.
The real beginning, she knew now, had been months before she’d discovered the wallet, when Tim became so tense and angry, so secretive. But what Detective Estevez needed to hear...
“Tim had told me to take a look and decide what I wanted from the house,” she said, grateful that she sounded almost composed. “So I let myself in...”
* * *
DANIEL FRETTED FOR what remained of the day. He’d told Rebecca to expect him tomorrow night, but not tonight. He didn’t want to stretch his uncle’s tolerance. But he had underestimated how stressful Rebecca would find today’s meeting—and maybe the uncomfortable trip to and from town on the hard floor of the buggy.
What was she thinking? She had to be going a little crazy. He wished suddenly that they’d talked more about the future instead of concentrating on the past. He knew why he had—he saw her future here, with him, and had been afraid to find out she didn’t. She’d said nothing to make him think she would do something dumb like take off or try to contact her ex, but he’d be reassured to hear that from her.
Sneak out there tonight? No, Rebecca wouldn’t know to meet him. Anyway, he thought he’d like to see her face when they discussed the meeting with Estevez and where they’d go next.
He considered openly stopping by for once. Amos and Barbara were family. Why would anybody pay attention? While he was out, he’d make other stops, as was his habit. Just to remind people that he was willing to help...or, in a few cases, that he was keeping an eye on them. One of his deputies had reported seeing some traffic coming and going from the Shaver brothers’ place, not a good sign.
But he was shaking his head even before he’d consciously made a decision. No. He couldn’t risk drawing any attention at all to her location.
Go after dark and knock on the kitchen door again, then. Sit down with her and Amos.
With luck, she’d walk him out when he left and he could sneak a kiss to sustain him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REBECCA WAS JUST tiptoeing out of the bedroom after tucking the boys in when she saw Amos at the head of the stairs.
“Asleep?” he asked in a low voice.
“Caleb is,” she whispered.
He nodded. “You are needed downstairs.”
What on earth? She hurried after him.
Not until they reached the main floor did he say, “My nephew is here, wanting to speak to us.”
Her pulse rate rocketed. What could have happened?
She almost ran for the kitchen, brushing by Amos on the way. It was an anticlimax to find Daniel sitting at the table polishing off a piece of apple pie swimming in cream while Barbara unnecessarily wiped kitchen counters and chattered about what her daughter had told her about the boys’ doings today.
They were surmounting the language difference with astonishing speed. Matthew, Rebecca was beginning to think, had already picked up more Deitsch from the Grabers, and especially Abram and Mose, than she’d realized. “Hi” had been the extent of Caleb’s English when he’d first arrived, but increasingly he mixed English words and phrases into his Deitsch. However the two boys accomplished it, they seemed to understand each other.
Matthew still needed a hug or just the knowledge his mom was there, but the clinginess had passed. Rebecca was grateful for his resilience. If only she could feel as strong.
Seeing Amos and Rebecca, Barbara exclaimed, “Ach, here they are! You need to talk, ja? I will go back to my knitting.”
“You’re welcome if you’d like to stay,” Daniel said unexpectedly. “I have nothing to say you can’t hear.”
Amos raised an eyebrow but, as was his way, wordlessly pulled up a chair to the table. He nodded his thanks to his wife for the cup of coffee she poured. Rebecca found herself directly across the table from Daniel.
They all stared at him until he scraped his plate clean and sighed. He smiled at his aunt. “I should steal you away. My cooking is nowhere near as good as yours.”
Rebecca’s fingers bit into her palms. Was he trying to torture her? “Why are you here?” she burst out.
Amos gave her a reproving look, which she ignored. Daniel focused on her, his expression calm.
“I wanted to tell you that Estevez and I talked after we dropped you off, and he says he, er, appreciated your cooperation and won’t be filing charges.”
Her breath whooshed out of her. At the same time, she couldn’t help saying, “Appreciated? Detective Estevez?”
Daniel grinned. “He may have expressed it more begrudgingly than that.”
Amos and Barbara stared at her as she laughed, which suggested she didn’t sound quite sane. She couldn’t decide if her relief was even proportional, given that someone who wanted to kill her was still on the loose.
Daniel just waited her out, his gaze steady. If they’d been alone, she felt sure he would have at least taken her hand.
“Thank you,” she said. “I mean, for coming here to tell me.”
“I also wanted to find out how you’re holding up.” He hesitated. “You’ve had all the control taken out of your hands, with nothing to do but wait.”
It was as if he’d bulldozed a barricade holding back a toxic brew of emotion. “I keep wanting to do something! This is my mess, and now I’m completely helpless, waiting to be bailed out.” She glared at him, even though none of it was Daniel’s fault. “I hate feeling like this.”
“I understand.” His mouth twisted. “I wish I could suggest a way for you to help, but I don’t know what that would be.”
She looked down at her hands. “I could...take off. Make sure they know I’m not here anymore.”
“With Matthew?” Daniel’s voice sounded as if it had been run over a grater.
“Well...no, I couldn’t do that to him. But if he could stay here—” she flicked an apologetic glance at Amos and Barbara “—I could lead them away.” Yep, great idea.
He groaned. “How would they know to chase after you?”
“I could call from someplace like a bus or train station, where departures are being announced over a PA system. If he heard it in the background...” Seeing Daniel’s expression, she mumbled, “It was...just a middle-of-the-night scheme. I know it’s stupid. It’s just...”
Amos surprised her by setting a big, work-roughened hand over her knotted fingers. “We have thought of you like a daughter, Rebecca. Stay as long as you must. You and one small boy make no trouble.”
Through the blur of tears she saw Barbara smiling encouragement.
Rebecca sniffed. “Two small boys and a woman like me can make a whole lot of trouble.”
“The good kind,” Barbara said. “Enjoying you all, we are.”
“Is common sense all that’s stopped you from embarking on this great plan?” Daniel asked, his blue eyes penetrating, his voice almost harsh.
She couldn’t look away from him. “I couldn’t really have left Matthew and—” you “—everybody who cares about me.”
“I’m one of those people, you know,” he said quietly.
The floodgates opened. She mumbled, “I do know,” and buried her face in her hands. She didn’t see him move, but suddenly he had circled the table, pulled out the chair next to hers and wrapped his arms around her, right there in front of Amos and Barbara.
Rebecca let herself cry on his uniform shirt for only a minute, then gave herself another minute to steep in the pleasure of being held close. His smell was mingled sweat, a hint of aftershave. Man. His arms were so strong, his shoulders reassuringly broad. She hated to look up, because now she’d be blotchy and puffy and she’d have to see how shocked his aunt and uncle were, but finally she had to.
“It’s just me, you know,” she said in a soggy voice, “Matthew seems really happy.” She smiled shakily at Barbara. “Thanks to your brilliant idea. It’s just... I hate knowing I’ve brought danger to all of you. I never meant—”
Amos stirred. “Here, you have our nephew to keep you safe.”
She did. The miracle was, despite the fact that she felt trapped, she did believe in Daniel.
“Yes,” she whispered, but wasn’t sure he was convinced.
* * *
MORNING BROUGHT THE usual distractions from the minute Daniel walked into headquarters. Plus, a deputy had called in sick, leaving them shorthanded at a time when they could ill afford it. Lucky he hadn’t planned to take this Sunday off, Daniel thought, since he’d be replacing his absent deputy.
He hadn’t driven two miles during his patrol when a voice crackled through his radio. “Found a buggy. Nobody in it. Horse seems upset.”
After a quick glance in the rearview mirror, Daniel braked. “You’ve searched in case the driver got thrown out?”
“Drove back a ways,” Deputy Sloan responded. “Nothing.”
This couldn’t be good. He could only pray whatever had happened was unrelated to the reports of men studying the faces of Amish traveling the roads. Today was the “off” Sunday for the Amish, who used it for visiting instead of church.
“Location?” he asked.
“Westwood Road, ’bout half a mile this side of the river bridge.”
The Thompson River took a curve into Henness County, the banks sandy in that stretch. Fishermen could often be seen in their waders, lines cast. Westwood Road narrowed to cross a rusting steel bridge preferred by the Amish to the busier and more modern bridge to the south.
“On my way.”
On cresting a gentle hill, he saw two buggies ahead, as well as a sheriff’s department vehicle. Daniel parked behind his deputy and got out to find an Amish couple he knew only slightly, the man soothing a sweating, wild-eyed bay gelding hitched to a small, open buggy, while the woman had stayed in their own buggy. The deputy was almost in the ditch, keeping a wary distance from the horse. If this had been a busier road, the scene would have been considerably more chaotic. If the horse had run in a panic out in front of a car...
He shook off the image.
“Paul Glick?” Daniel ventured.
“Ja.” The man, perhaps forty, was unusually dark-haired and dark-eyed for the Amish. “You are Sheriff Byler, not so?”
“I am. Do you know whose buggy this is?”
“Ja, Anna Lantz lives with he
r husband and children on Sandy Creek Road.” His accent was stronger than most. “Her mamm and daad live near my wife and me, half a mile over the river. She and her oldest boy, I saw them when they left her parents’ to go home, maybe half an hour ago.” His head turned, his eyes sweeping the woods on one side and the overgrown pasture on the other. “Where could she be?”
“Let me call this in and make sure she and her son weren’t transported to the hospital.”
Dispatch checked; no Amish woman had arrived at the hospital in Byrum or as an emergency at the medical clinic in Hadburg, although if an Englischer, local or tourist, had found her or her boy in distress, they could still be in transit. But would even an anxious or suddenly ill mother simply abandon her horse and buggy without at least turning them into the next lane?
Daniel returned to Paul Glick. “How old is the boy who was with her?”
“Luke is five, I think. Just too young to start school.”
Daniel didn’t like being proved right. The dread felt like a too-tight band around his rib cage. “What does Anna look like?”
Paul stared at him like he was ab im kopf—off in the head, for sure. But seeing something in Daniel’s expression, he said, “She is a pretty woman. Even after two children, she is thin. Her hair is...” He hesitated, obviously floundering.
“A red-brown,” his wife called. Daniel had assumed she was too far away to be able to hear them talk. “Wavy, sometimes curling out from under her kapp.”
His deputy had been shading his eyes and looking back down the road. “I think I see something,” he said suddenly, and jogged along the shoulder.
“She has blue eyes,” the wife added.
In other words, she met the basic description of Rebecca Holt.
“Her boy?”
“Blond, like his daad.”
The dread coalesced into naked fear.
Seeing that Sloan was jogging back, something in his hand, Daniel said, “Excuse me a minute,” and walked to meet him.
Plain Refuge Page 19
