by Debby Giusti
He ruffled David’s hair with one hand and squeezed Mary’s chubby cheek with the other, wishing the twinkle would return to her pretty eyes. She was too young to grieve so long.
Ezra pushed back from the table. “Breakfast was gut. Thank you, Susan and Belinda.”
He smiled at his youngest sister, hoping to bring a smile to her lips. “And danke, Mary, for gathering the eggs. You, too, are a help to your sisters.”
Mary nodded but refused to smile, bringing sadness to his heart. If only he could change the past.
With a heavy sigh, he stepped to the door, grabbed his hat and then glanced back at Susan. “Shall I tell John Keim you have a lovely voice and might accept a ride to the next youth singing?”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Tell him I send my greetings.”
Ezra hurried to the barn and harnessed Bessie to the buggy. He would visit the blacksmith and talk to the blacksmith’s son to determine if John had the makings of a good husband for his sister. Ezra was not ready to lose Susan’s help, but he would not stand in her way to have a family of her own.
He thought of Rosie, trying to raise her son. From what Ezra knew about her father, Rosie was not receiving the support she needed. All the more reason for Ezra to help her in whatever way he could.
The road to the Glick farm angled downhill. Bessie’s gait was sprightly, and both he and the mare enjoyed the brisk morning trot. Ezra would give Rosie a ride to work today. Tonight, if he got home early enough, he would fix her bike and deliver it to her home tomorrow.
He did not want her on the road alone until he asked questions in town about the big man in the white sedan. Ezra had not seen him before, although these days he did not go to town often. Earlier, before his parents’ deaths, he had run with some of the Englischers. He remembered most of the people, but not the older man with the splash of white hair.
He did remember Will MacIntosh, but he would not mention his name to Rosie. She had been swayed by Will’s handsome looks and lavish spending. Ezra had been caught in the deception of the world as well and had yearned for material possessions and the money to buy them.
He did not blame Rosie for leaving the Amish way for a time, but he did blame Will for taking advantage of her innocence.
* * *
Rosie woke before dawn and prepared to leave her house earlier than usual. She worried Ezra would forget his offer to give her a ride. If so, she would be forced to walk to town.
“You should stay home,” her mother insisted.
“I am scheduled to work. Plus, it is payday. I must get my check.”
“And what will they say about the cuts and scrapes to your face and hands?”
“I will tell them I fell from my bike just as I told you.”
“Your father could take you in the buggy,” her mother suggested.
Rosie shook her head. Datt would not agree to making the trip to town just so his daughter—a daughter he still had trouble accepting back into the family—could pick up her paycheck at an Englisch nursing home. Much as her father wanted Rosie to contribute to the financial needs of the family, he also struggled with her recent decision to seek employment in town.
“Another Englischer will catch her eye,” her father had grumbled to her mother, and Rosie had overheard.
Forgiveness was the Amish way. Unfortunately, his daughter’s mistakes were too hard to forgive.
She grabbed her black cape from the peg near the door, and after kissing Joseph, she hurried outside. Her father stood in the door of the barn and peered questioningly at her as she walked briskly toward the road.
Brave though she wanted to be, her heart pounded rapidly in her chest. If Ezra did not soon appear, she would have to make the trip on foot and would need to be on guard as she traveled along the roadway. Thankfully, the sound of horses’ hooves alerted her to an approaching buggy. Her heart lurched. Not from fear but from a sense of thankfulness as she spied Bessie rounding the bend. Good to his word, Ezra had come to fetch her this morning.
Rosie stood at the edge of the pavement and waved as his buggy approached.
“Have you been waiting long?” he asked as he pulled the buggy to a stop.
“I just came from my house. Your timing is perfect.”
Ezra reached for her hand and helped her into the seat next to him. The warmth from his body drove away the chill of the morning air.
“Your cape is not thick enough for such a cold day,” he said.
Just as before, he reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her.
“Thank you, Ezra, for the blanket and for the ride, although I hate to take you from your farm.”
“I need to be at the blacksmith’s today and do some other errands in town. So you have not taken me from what I had already planned to do.”
Rosie had half hoped he was making a special trip to see her, but that thought would be prideful and would play into the comments her father sometimes muttered about her haughty heart. Datt did not realize being locked in a root cellar had left her anything but proud.
“You did not see the man again?” Ezra flicked the reins and hurried his mare along the road. The sun was rising, and the morning light cast a surreal glow over the mountain.
“I pray I do not see him again,” Rosie stated as she tucked the blanket around her waist.
“I will inquire about him in town.”
“It is not your worry, Ezra. Please do not add this burden to your daily tasks. I am sure he left the area last night when we saw him drive past.”
Ezra glanced at her for a long moment before he turned his gaze back to the road. “As focused as he seemed to be to do you harm, Rosie, I do not think he will disappear so easily. Perhaps there is something you are not telling me.”
He glanced at her again and asked, “Are there secrets you must hide?”
Her cheeks burned, but she held his gaze. “You need not burden yourself with my mistakes, Ezra. You have your own past with which to struggle.”
His brow furrowed and his lips drew tight. He glanced back at the road, making her believe the rumors she had heard about Ezra were true. For a period of time, he had forsaken the Amish way and had gotten caught up in the allure of the Englisch.
It was something they had in common.
Still she did not want to discuss her own past with a man who had only yesterday acknowledged her for the first time since she had returned home.
“Let’s talk of something other than the past,” she suggested with a defiant shake of her head.
“Two months ago, I applied for the job at the nursing home,” she shared, needing a neutral topic to fill the silence.
Ezra kept his gaze on the road as she chatted. He did not speak for far too long, as if lost in his own thoughts. Thankfully, his interest seemed to pique when she started to discuss Mr. Calhoun, the delightful older gentleman with whom she had formed a special bond at the nursing home.
“Last night his rheumatoid arthritis was causing him undue pain,” Rosie said. “He asked for medication but none was given. Finally, I went to Nan Smith, the new night nurse. She promised to straighten out the confusion. Mr. Calhoun does not have a family, but he is such a kind man and appreciates anything I do for him.”
“I am sure you brighten his day with your pretty smile.”
Her pulse quickened, and she wondered if she had heard Ezra correctly. No one had ever said she had a pretty smile. She did not need compliments or flattery, yet hearing Ezra’s comment and seeing the sincerity in his gaze brought a smile to her lips.
“You are generous with your words, especially for an Amish man.”
“Amish men speak the truth, Rosie.”
Her heart fluttered with the speed of a hummingbird drawing nectar from a blossom. In an effort to calm the rapid rhythm, she focused on Mr. Calhoun and their special relationship.
&nb
sp; “Hopefully, the night nurse cleared up the pain-medicine problem so he got the rest he needed,” she said, as they entered town.
The Christmas decorations added a festive charm to the morning, and in spite of everything that had happened, Rosie’s spirits lifted. Ezra turned onto a side street and pulled Bessie to a stop in front of the nursing home.
The double doors were adorned with two large wreaths tied with shiny red bows. Potted pines, decorated with sparkling white lights and red bows, sat on each side of the double doors.
He pointed to the parking lot.
Rosie pulled her eyes from the twinkling lights and followed his gaze. Her euphoria vanished, replaced with dread as she spied a white sedan identical to the one that had tried to run her off the road yesterday.
“Stay with me,” Ezra insisted. “Do not go to work today.”
“Surely the car belongs to someone else. I will be all right, Ezra. You need not worry.”
“The blacksmith’s shop is on Sycamore Street off the square. If there is a problem, you can find me there.”
She hurried inside and passed the Christmas tree decorated with gold and red bulbs. Hurrying along the hallway to the left, she rounded an arrangement of poinsettias that surrounded a Norfolk Island pine and stopped short. A man stood in the doorway of the manager’s office. Thankfully, his back was to her, but the streak of white hair confirmed he was the same man who had attacked her last night.
The manager’s voice filtered into the hallway. “Come on in, Larry, and close the door.”
At least now, she knew his first name.
Had he found out where she worked and followed her here? Or was his presence a coincidence that had nothing to do with Rosie or her job? She would not wait to find out.
Turning down a side hallway, she hurried to the kitchen, located on the far wing, where she would hide out this morning, preparing the patients’ trays. By the time breakfast was served, the man would be gone.
At least that was her hope.
* * *
Ezra tied Bessie to the hitching rail and entered the nursing home. Whether Rosie wanted his help or not, he needed to ensure she was all right.
He walked past the Christmas tree and turned down a nearby corridor to the right, where he was greeted with a bevy of activity as aides dressed in pastel-colored scrubs hurried from room to room, waking patients and getting them ready for the new day. He headed down one hall after another, but he could not find Rosie.
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he glanced into a patient’s room.
Someone came up behind him. “May I help you?”
Ezra turned to stare into the face of a middle-aged man with dark eyes and a receding hairline. He was big and bulky and appeared in good physical shape.
“Do you have a reason to be in Shady Manor?” the man demanded.
Ezra glanced at the name tag hanging from a lanyard around the man’s neck. Bruce O’Donnell, Shady Manor Manager.
At the end of the hallway, he spied another man. The guy with the patch of white hair stood staring at both of them.
Ezra needed a reason to be on the nursing-home premises, without making mention of Rosie. Her favorite patient came to mind.
“I know it is early,” Ezra said. “But I came into town this morning and wanted to see how Mr. Calhoun is doing.”
“Are you kin?”
Ezra shook his head. “No, but he is a nice man who enjoys company. Could you direct me to his room?”
“Visiting hours begin at nine, after the patients have eaten breakfast.” The manager pointed him toward the nearest exit.
Ezra wanted to find Rosie, but not when the man with the streak of white hair was watching his every move. He headed outside and pulled his buggy around the side of the building, where it would be less noticeable. Ezra would stand guard at the nursing home for as long as Rosie’s assailant remained inside.
In less than thirty minutes, the big man left the care facility through a side door. He walked quickly across the parking lot, climbed into his car and drove off.
Ezra let out a lungful of pent-up air. Minutes later, Rosie ran outside. Her face was pale. Tears streamed from her blue eyes.
He grabbed her hand. “Did someone hurt you?”
“Oh, Ezra!”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hurried her to the protection of the buggy. “Tell me what happened?”
“Mr. O’Donnell called me to his office. He is the manager of the nursing home. He—he claimed—”
Ezra rubbed her arms and waited as she struggled to catch her breath.
“Someone told him I was snooping around in patient records last night.”
“I do not understand.”
“It probably had to do with Mr. Calhoun. I had talked to the night nurse. She planned to check his chart, but I never looked at any of his records.”
“Did you tell Mr. O’Donnell?”
“He would not listen. He said medication had been stolen, and...”
She hung her head. “He accused me of being a thief.”
“This does not make sense. Are you sure you heard him correctly?”
Rosie nodded. “He fired me, Ezra. He refused to give me my back pay and mentioned calling the police.” Her eyes widened. “I am frightened.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Do not be afraid, Rosie. You are safe now.”
Only she was not safe, and the danger seemed to be getting closer.
She laid her head on his shoulder as the tears fell.
“Shh,” Ezra soothed. Rosie was soft and warm and smelled like lavender. Everything within Ezra wanted to take away her pain and protect her from anyone attempting to do her harm. He pulled her even closer, wishing he could wipe away her tears.
“I wanted to say goodbye to Mr. Calhoun,” she whispered. “But when I went into his room—”
“What happened?”
“Mr. Calhoun—” She glanced up. Sorrow filled her eyes. “Oh, Ezra. Mr. Calhoun is dead.”
FOUR
Rosie’s head swirled with confusion. Seeing Mr. Calhoun’s body with a sheet draped over it had startled her. Foolishly, she had thought he was asleep. When she pulled aside the cloth, she realized her mistake.
His frozen gaze and white pallor had broken her heart. Unwilling to believe what she saw, Rosie had run to the nurses’ station only to be told what she knew to be true.
Tears came again. She leaned into Ezra’s embrace, feeling the strength of him. He rubbed her hand over her shoulder and clutched her even closer.
“Last night, he was fine,” she gasped between sobs. “He was in pain, but his vitals were good. I promised him help. Nan assured me she would track down the missing medication.”
“The nurse you spoke to, do you trust her?” Ezra asked.
“Why would I not? She is new to the home and eager to make changes for the better.” Rosie sniffed and swiped her hand over her cheeks, in an attempt to wipe away her tears. “This is all so frightening. First the man chases after me, and now a patient—a gut man—dies, and I am called a thief.”
“Perhaps we need to talk to the nurse. She might provide information about Mr. Calhoun’s physical condition, including any complications that may have occurred.”
As much as Rosie wanted to remain in Ezra’s arms, he was right. Nan could provide information about Mr. Calhoun’s death.
“Nan left the nursing home shortly before I arrived this morning. She may have been with Mr. Calhoun when he died. That would bring me comfort if he had not suffered and slipped away peacefully.”
“If that is indeed so.”
Rosie stared at Ezra’s questioning gaze. “You do not believe Gott called Mr. Calhoun home?”
“I am wondering if Gott had help.”
Rosie widened her eyes. “You think f
oul play was involved?”
“I do not know, but one thing is certain, you need to talk to Nan. Do you know where she lives?”
“In a new area of homes on the far side of the mountain. She invited me to visit and gave me directions.”
“I will take you there.” Ezra glanced at the door to the nursing home. “We must hurry in case the manager has called the police, as he threatened to do.”
Rosie’s heart sank. If Mr. O’Donnell involved the police, she might be hauled in for questioning. Would they believe her or Mr. O’Donnell, a well-thought-of businessman within the community?
Surely Nan would provide information about Mr. Calhoun’s death. Perhaps she would also shed light on why Rosie had been fired.
* * *
Ezra helped Rosie into the buggy and then climbed in next to her. He did not want to frighten her any more than she already was, but Rosie’s world was spinning out of control. If Mr. O’Donnell filed criminal charges, she would have a hard time proving her innocence, especially if medication had, indeed, gone missing.
An innocent Amish woman was the perfect scapegoat. Rosie did not have the wherewithal to defend herself against slander. Plus, she had been involved with a man known to skirt the law when it served his advantage. The Englisch would never realize how a woman who longed for love could be blind to the truth about the man to whom she had given her heart.
To make matters worse, she had been kidnapped and held captive. A weaker woman never would have survived, but Rosie had endured the months of her pregnancy and had delivered her child in a root cellar all by herself. Ezra called that admirable and heroic, yet he doubted the local authorities would see her in a positive light.
Ezra encouraged his mare forward. Instead of taking the main road out of the nursing home, he circled to the rear of the parking lot and turned onto a backstreet.
“Does this lead to the mountain homes?” Rosie asked.
“Yah, it is a bit longer in distance, but it keeps us out of the downtown area. If the man with the streak of white hair is on the road, I do not want him to see you.”
