Undercover Amish

by Debby Giusti

  Before she could counter his comment, he stepped from the car and slammed the door behind him.

  Hannah didn’t want to be saved. Especially not by a sect of people who embraced the past. She didn’t need the trappings of wealth or power, but she liked a few creature comforts, namely electricity, running water and inside restrooms.

  Lucas rounded the car and opened the passenger door. “Let’s pay Fannie a visit. I’ve got an idea about how to keep you safe.”

  “It’s late, Lucas. I doubt she wants company after a long day at the inn.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Trust me, please.”

  “I do trust you, but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

  She stepped from the car and begrudgingly walked beside him up the porch steps. He could be insistent. Still, the calm peacefulness of the house was evident even on the porch.

  Lucas rapped on the door then tapped again.

  “She might be asleep,” Hannah whispered.

  Footsteps sounded from within the house. The covering at the window was pulled back and Fannie’s round face appeared.

  The door opened to the innkeeper’s sigh of relief. “You have been gone so long that I had started to worry.” Fannie looked past Lucas and reached for Hannah’s hand, pulling her gently into the warmth of her home.

  An oil lamp on the table bathed the room in a soft glow. A wood-burning stove sat at the side of the room, giving off heat.

  “I feared some difficulty.” Fannie narrowed her gaze. “What did the doctor say?”

  Hannah smiled, hoping to reassure the woman. “That I need to rest.”

  “He kept you all these hours at the clinic?”

  Lucas entered and closed the door behind him. “The doctor released her after a thorough check-over and a CAT scan. We had other stops to make.”

  “But it is dark now. You have been too long gone.”

  “We visited the Zook farm, where my sister stayed while she was in the area,” Hannah quickly explained. “I had hoped to find information about her whereabouts.”

  “From the expression on your face, it appears you did not find that for which you were looking.”

  Hannah glanced at Lucas, unsure of how much to share with Fannie.

  “We were followed,” Lucas said, playing down what had happened. “I’m sure it was the man who attacked Hannah.”

  Fannie sighed deeply and patted Hannah’s hand. “When will this end?”

  Hannah felt the burden fall heavy on her shoulders. “I’ve placed you and your guests in danger, Fannie. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, child. You are not at fault. You have done nothing wrong. It is this man who comes after you.”

  Fannie glanced at her watch. “It is late. You have eaten?”

  “We hurried to get back to the inn and failed to stop,” Lucas said. “Is the dining room still open?”

  “Not this late, but I will fix food to fill your stomachs.”

  “There’s something else we need,” Lucas added. “The man knows Hannah rented a room at the inn. She has no other place to go, yet she needs to remain in the area until she can find her sisters.”

  Lucas explained that Hannah’s family had been the victims of the carjacking and the tragedy that ensued. “Which means she needs a safe place to stay where the assailant won’t find her.”

  “Here,” Fannie suggested immediately. She turned to Hannah. “You will stay with me. He will never expect to find you in an Amish home.”

  She looked at Hannah’s jeans and jacket. “Those who work at the inn wear nothing fancy, but we can do even more to protect you. You will dress in true Amish clothing.”

  “You mean like Lucas?”

  “That’s right, except you will wear a dress, apron and bonnet. The attacker will never look for you among the Amish. What do you think?”

  Hannah glanced down at her clothes and then at what Fannie was wearing. “I think that sounds like a good plan.”

  * * *

  The next morning Hannah awoke with a start. She glanced at the quilt that covered her and turned to stare at the pegs on the wall where a dress hung, along with a white apron.

  For a moment she couldn’t get her bearings. Then everything flooded back to her. She was in Fannie’s house, an Amish house with simple, no-fuss furnishings.

  Pulling back the bed coverings, she dropped her feet to the hardwood floor and shivered in the chill of the room.

  Her own clothing lay on a small straight-back chair. She passed them by and reached instead for the cotton dress hanging from the peg. She hesitated for a moment, questioning her own wisdom about taking on a way of life about which she knew so little.

  The assailant’s hateful face floated through her thoughts and wiped away any indecision about dressing Amish.

  Quickly she donned the blue frock and reached for the straight pins Fannie had left on a side table. Feeling all thumbs and clueless about how she could hold the fabric together, Hannah breathed a sigh of relief when she heard a knock at the door and Fannie’s cheerful “Gude mariye” from the hallway.

  “Breakfast is almost ready,” the older woman said.

  Hannah cracked open the door and invited her into the bedroom. Fannie dropped the small suitcase she carried in the corner. “Lucas brought your things from the inn this morning.”

  “That was thoughtful of him.” Hannah pointed to the waistband she held together with her other hand. “But right now, I need your help, Fannie. I’m all thumbs when it comes to pinning the fabric.”

  The woman’s laughter filled the room with warmth as she tugged on the waistband and quickly worked the pins through the layers of fabric.

  “The trick is to make certain the tips of the pins are buried within the thickness of the cloth so you do not catch your hand against the sharp tips.”

  “I don’t know how you do it.” Hannah ran her hand over the pins that now held the dress together as securely as a row of buttons.

  “Practice makes perfect, as the saying goes. You will soon learn many of the Amish ways.” Fannie’s smile touched a lonely place within Hannah’s heart. “The Amish leave the world behind and embrace hard work and love of Gott. All things work together, as scripture reminds us. You will remember this?”

  “I’m afraid there’s too much to learn,” Hannah admitted. Once again she ran her hand over the row of pins. Would she ever be able to dress herself let alone learn the many tenets of the Amish life?

  Fannie reached for the apron and slipped it over Hannah’s head. Standing back, she nodded in approval. “Yah, you look like one of us.”

  Hannah carried too many struggles within her to be Amish. Most especially the animosity she still harbored, remembering her mother’s verbal attack the night she’d left home. The night she had learned the truth about her father and the type of man he was.

  Hannah had always been the outsider. Growing up, she had questioned her mother’s caustic comments about her first child being born out of pain. That night Hannah had better understood her mother’s all-too-frequent criticism.

  “What is it, Hannah?” Fannie touched her arm and smiled with understanding. “You are remembering something that troubles you?”

  She nodded. “I’m thinking of my youth. I...I grew up in a chaotic home. Love—if it was even that—had to be earned. I never seemed to do what was right.”

  Fannie nodded. “Perhaps Gott has brought you here to sort out the past. Painful memories can be like a millstone around our necks, unless we are able to cut free from that which weighs us down. Not all homes are built on love. My own home growing up was filled with turmoil. When I married Eli, I vowed our children would know love and acceptance and not harsh unforgivingness.”

  “But I thought all Amish homes were filled with peace and understandin
g.”

  “That is the ideal for which we strive. Sometimes people fall short of the ideal.”

  “Lucas said you didn’t have children.”

  Fannie smiled. “One son. He died as an infant. I blamed Gott for too long. My husband was gentle and loving. He understood that we must accept what Gott wills for our lives.”

  “But God didn’t want your child to die, Fannie.”

  “He did not. This I had to learn. Eventually, I realized I had to accept life as it was. That millstone I mentioned weighed me down until I could forgive Gott and myself.”

  “And you had no more children?”

  “I have Lucas. He came into my life. He, too, was broken. I consider him the son Gott took from me.”

  “You were given a second chance.”

  Fannie tilted her head. “Are you longing for that, as well?”

  Hannah shrugged her shoulders. “Growing up, I never fit in. My mother found fault, more with me than with my sisters. I worked to help support the family, but I also saved some of my earnings and kept the cash in my bottom drawer.”

  Although she hadn’t expected to bare her heart, the understanding she saw in Fannie’s gaze made her give voice to that which she had kept hidden for too long. “Three years ago, I decided to count my savings only to find the money gone. I...I confronted my mother.”

  Hannah’s heart pounded, remembering the argument that had ensued. “My mother said the money belonged to the family even though I had earned it working overtime. She called me a thief. She said I had stolen from the family and threatened to turn me over to the police.”

  “Oh, child.” Fannie opened her arms and pulled Hannah into a loving embrace. “You are not a thief. You are a beautiful young woman, yet you grieve not only for your mother but also for the love that perhaps she could not provide.”

  What Fannie had said was true. Hannah had grieved the loss of her family for so long. Had God brought her here to heal?

  “Thank you for the clothes and for letting me stay with you, Fannie.”

  “You are safe with me, child. We will think of happy thoughts and not allow the past to cloud our sunshine. Yah?”

  Hannah laughed through her tears, feeling a sense of homecoming and wholeness. “Yah.”

  Fannie handed her a handkerchief. “Wipe your eyes and then we will go downstairs and have breakfast together. I must leave soon for the inn. You can decide what you will do today.”

  Hannah followed Fannie into the kitchen, where the table was set for three. Fannie quickly pulled biscuits from the woodstove’s oven and piled them in a basket that she placed on the table.

  A cast-iron skillet on a back burner contained scrambled eggs. A plate of bacon, crisp and succulent, warmed there, as well.

  “May I pour coffee?” Hannah asked.

  “Many hands make light work,” Fannie said with a definitive nod.

  Hannah poured the pungent brew into two cups on the table and then turned, holding the pot in midair, back to Fannie. “Shall I fill a cup for Lucas?”

  As if on cue, the kitchen door opened and he stepped inside, bringing with him the clean scent of fresh air. “Morning, ladies.” His face warmed with a wide smile and twinkling eyes that made Hannah’s heart flutter.

  “I’ll take a cup of that coffee,” he said as he hung his waistcoat and hat on a peg by the door.

  Hannah poured the coffee and handed him the sturdy cup. Their fingers touched and he gazed into her eyes. “Smells wonderful.”

  “You’ve been working?” she asked, suddenly flustered and unsure of her voice as well as her heart.

  “I wanted to check the fence I fixed yesterday.” He glanced at Fannie. “No one bothered it last night, but it didn’t come down by accident. I fear the man who attacked Hannah wanted to create a distraction.”

  “Having the cattle break out of the pasture would have been a distraction for certain.”

  “But the broken fence forced you to be in the pasture when I needed help.” Hannah voiced what she knew to be true. “You rescued me, Lucas.”

  “Gott provides when we are in need.” Fannie motioned them to the table.

  Lucas held a chair for Hannah and then sat across from her and bowed his head.

  “We will give thanks.” Fannie followed Lucas’s lead.

  Hannah did, as well. The innkeeper’s heartfelt prayer filled Hannah with a sense of well-being in spite of everything that had happened. Glancing up after the prayer ended, she was taken aback by the overwhelming contentment that swept over her.

  Her whole life she had longed for stability and love. For some strange reason, she had found it—at least for this moment in time—in an Amish home in the North Georgia mountains.

  Was that what Miriam had found at the Zook farm? Was that why she had fallen in love with an Amish man who had, more than likely, disavowed the ways of the world?

  Hannah glanced at Lucas. He stopped his fork, filled with eggs, midway to his mouth and gazed at her across the table. What she saw in his eyes warmed her. Understanding, acceptance, concern.

  Had she stumbled onto the very place for which she had been searching?

  She clenched her left hand on her lap and reached for her coffee with her right as her thoughts returned to the reality of her plight.

  She had allowed a man access to her heart before but he had lied to her. She was too much like her mother, giving her heart to someone who wasn’t the man she thought him to be.

  Surely Fannie was an excellent judge of character, and if she loved Lucas like a son, then he had to be a good man.

  But Brian had seemed like a good man, too.

  Hannah had learned the truth, which had made her realize how gullible she really had been. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

  Suddenly, Hannah wasn’t hungry. She was worried. Worried about the man who kept coming after her, worried about staying in an Amish home with a woman she had only just met, and worried about feelings of attraction for the man sitting across the table from her.

  Hannah knew so little about her biological father but she knew her deceased mother too well. Unfortunately, she was and would always be her mother’s daughter. Shame on her. Hannah needed to guard her heart and her life. Staying at the Amish Inn was probably a mistake. Hopefully one she wouldn’t come to regret.

  NINE

  Lucas didn’t want breakfast to end. Sitting across from Hannah warmed his heart and lightened the burden he had carried since Olivia’s death. He hadn’t thought a meal could be so enjoyable, and it wasn’t due to Fannie’s excellent cooking. He had sat at this very table eating the wonderful food she provided many a morning without feeling the buoyancy to his spirits that filled him today.

  Hannah stared at her plate, which provided Lucas a moment to study her pretty features. He had been attracted to her oval face and crystal-blue eyes the night they’d met. Yet seeing her this morning with her hair pulled back in a bun and wearing the white knapp, or bonnet, made him see the deep beauty, the true beauty, she possessed.

  He doubted many Englisch women would be comfortable without their makeup and hair products, thinking their looks would diminish without the accoutrements. Hannah, on the other hand, had grown in grace and poise and seemed to have an inner glow he hadn’t noticed earlier. Even the bruises on her forehead and the scrape on her cheek seemed better today.

  “Calvin fixed the wheel on one of the buggies,” Lucas informed both women. “I want to make sure it won’t give anyone a problem and thought I’d take it for a ride this morning.”

  Fannie nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. Where are you planning to go?”

  “I thought about heading to the Glicks’ home. It’s not far if I go along the back path.”

  “Rosie Glick?” Hannah asked. “The Amish girl who
ran off with her Englisch boyfriend?”

  “That’s right.” Lucas nodded. “She disappeared three months after I came to Willkommen. At the time, I didn’t think much about it.”

  “Such a thing has happened before,” Fannie admitted. “Young girls taken in by non-Amish men who promise them all the world offers. My heart breaks for the families torn apart when their children reject the faith.”

  “Are the girls shunned?” Hannah asked.

  “If they have been baptized and have already accepted the Amish faith, then, yah, they are shunned by their families and their communities if they leave the order.”

  “That sounds harsh.”

  Fannie gazed with understanding at Hannah. “Does it seem harsh? The one who leaves does not desire what we have within the Amish faith. They are the ones who turn their backs on us. We cannot open ourselves to more pain by those who do not wish to follow the Ordnung.”

  “The rule that guides each Amish community,” Lucas explained.

  “A mother always knows her child,” Fannie continued. “Yet in these cases, the child has turned his or her back on the mother first. Repentance can be achieved. The one who left confesses the wrongdoing to the bishop and the church, and asks forgiveness.”

  “You mean they can gain acceptance into the community again?” Hannah asked.

  “It is possible.”

  “So Rosie could come back?”

  “If that is her desire and if she is willing to confess her actions and ask forgiveness.”

  “But—” Hannah looked at Lucas. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Lucas has come to feel the way I do about this girl,” Fannie volunteered. “Something more is at stake here. Rosie was an impressionable young woman. She believed her heart about a young man who perhaps lied to her.”

  Lucas saw the pain fill Hannah’s gaze as if she was all too aware of how that could happen. Was she reflecting on her own mother? Or on her own life?

  “Fannie fears that harm may have come to Rosie Glick.” Lucas said what he and Fannie both believed to be true.