by Debby Giusti
Once deep in the woods and protected by dense foliage, she stopped and turned to stare through the underbrush at the road. The sound intensified, causing her heart to pound harder in her chest.
The baby stirred in her arms. She patted Joseph and rocked the baby, hoping to soothe him back to sleep. His eyes opened as he stretched, his precious face wrinkled up like a prune. A very cute prune that would have made her smile if not for the seriousness of their situation.
She glanced at the road and the bend on the other side of the dense forest, hoping to spy whatever was approaching. Pulling in a deep breath, she waited and watched as a horse and buggy came into view. She almost laughed with relief.
A gasp escaped her lips when she recognized the very handsome man driving the buggy. Without forethought, she ran from the forest, arriving at the roadway as the buggy approached.
The driver pulled up sharply on the reins. The horse pranced to a stop.
“Ezra, what are you doing here?”
His gaze softened when he saw her. Then, as if fearing someone was following her, he glanced into the woods in the direction from which she had just come and again at the road in front of them.
“What’s wrong, Rosie? Did something happen?”
She quickly filled him in as he climbed from the buggy and hurried to her side.
“You’re running away from home?” he asked.
“I’m leaving to protect my parents. Larry Wagner came to our house last night. He beat up my father. Thankfully, Mr. Wagner left.”
“He was looking for you?”
She nodded, ashamed of the danger she had brought to her parents. “But the strange thing is that he knew my parents’ names. Even more confusing is that they knew his.”
“You are sure it was Larry Wagner?”
She nodded.
“Did he see you?”
“No, but my mother forbid me to go outside lest he be spying as he drove by. She wants me to be a prisoner in my own house.” Rosie shook her head. “I cannot do that, Ezra. It is not the way I choose to live.”
“Where are you going?”
“To visit my aunt Katherine. She is a good woman. Her daughter, Alice, married and moved to Ohio. I am hoping Katherine will take Joseph and me into her house until I can find a way to get to Ohio.”
“Are you talking about Katherine Runnals, who lives higher up the mountain?” Ezra asked.
Rosie nodded. “You know my aunt?”
“I do. The road uphill is steep in places. Carrying Joseph and the pack on your back would be difficult. Let me take you there in my buggy.”
She nodded. “Again you have come to my aid at my moment of most need. Yah, I will gratefully accept your offer.”
He helped her into the seat and climbed in next to her. He touched her hand. “You are cold. The morning air is damp.”
He reached behind the seat and pulled out a blanket. He threw it around her legs and then pulled a smaller lap quilt out and wrapped it over her shoulders.
In the pale morning light, Rosie noticed the delicate stitches on the quilt, close and tight, and the straight rows that marked a steady hand well-accustomed to wielding a needle and thread.
“The covering is much too beautiful to be out in the elements, Ezra. This quilt deserves a special spot in your home.”
“I have others in the house. This one was made for the buggy.”
“Your mother did the stitching?”
He nodded. “My sisters helped cut the fabric and stitched the pieces together on the machine, but my mother did the quilting. She sat each night near the fire, the fabric stretched on a small free-standing frame my datt made for her. She would sit for hours with her needle going in and out of the fabric.”
“Is that how you remember her?”
Ezra flicked the reins. The buggy jerked into motion. He scooted closer to her and glanced at Joseph, who had fallen back asleep. “He is a good baby?”
“Yah, he is a good baby.”
She pulled him closer and turned her gaze to the road. Ezra had ignored her question about his mother. Rosie’s comment had been too personal. She should not bring up topics that caused Ezra pain. Her own parents were very much alive, for that she was grateful, yet recalling the beating her father had taken last night convinced her all the more that leaving home was for the best no matter how much she would miss her mother.
Would she miss her father? She glanced down at Joseph, who looked like a mix of William and her own datt. The two men who had been in Rosie’s life. Now one was dead and the other was bruised and battered because of her. She was a bad influence and brought trouble to those who knew her.
She flicked her gaze to Ezra. Her stomach tightened. She knew so little about the grown man sitting next to her, but she recalled all too well the handsome boy she had often peered at over the top of her schoolbooks. Ezra had seemed oblivious to Rosie’s presence, yet she remembered the way he helped the younger children and ensured the wood-burning stove was stoked and the fire burning bright. The other boys paid it little notice unless the teacher called on them, yet Ezra was quick to add logs or rearrange the wood to enhance the output of heat.
He glanced at her and lifted his eyebrows. “Did you say something?”
“I did not speak my thoughts aloud, but I was recalling your last year at school. I had not seen you since then until you saved me after my tumble down the hill.”
“I would call that more than a tumble.” His smile warmed her. “Plus there were a number of times when I saw you, but you did not have eyes to see me.”
She raised her brow and tilted her head. “Did I ignore you?”
“You were more interested in someone else.”
Now she understood. Ezra had seen her with William. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she tried to recall any time she had ignored Ezra. “I apologize for being impolite.”
He held up a hand. “Did I lead you to believe that you were less than polite?” He smiled. “Your attention was turned to someone else. I used to think William MacIntosh was a fortunate man.”
Ezra’s words took her aback. She did not know how to respond, and so she turned to gaze deeply into the forest, wishing she was witty and bright and could make conversation instead of wanting to crawl in the back of the buggy and hide.
Surely, Ezra was exaggerating to make her feel better. He was that kind of man, one that would do anything to help a woman in need.
Which she was.
Gratitude. Again, her heart filled as she thought of his timely intervention today and yesterday. She had thanked him more than once. She would not become a clanging gong, as scripture said. Better to seal her lips so she would not embarrass herself further.
Again she heard a sound that was hard to distinguish. This time, the sound came from farther below on the mountain.
Ezra must have noticed the sound as well. He tilted his ear and glanced around the side of the buggy.
“Someone comes.”
“Another buggy?” she asked, suddenly not concerned with giving voice to her thoughts.
He listened more intently. “I do not hear horses’ hooves on the pavement. I hear a motorized vehicle.”
“A car?”
He nodded and glanced into the dense woods that skirted the roadway. “Surely there is a path we could take deeper into the forest.”
Rosie followed his gaze, but she saw only the thick undergrowth that would catch on the buggy’s wheels and prevent its progression.
“Stop and let me off.”
“What?” His eyes widened.
“Joseph and I will hide in the woods. The buggy cannot go there, but we can.”
“I won’t let you go on your own.”
She touched his hand. “Be practical. If it is the man with the patch of white hair—if it is Larry Wagner—we cannot
let him find me. If I hide, you can remain in the buggy. It is doubtful that he would harm you. Once he has driven past, we will join you in the buggy again.”
Ezra seemed hesitant, but as the sound of the engine grew louder, he nodded. “I will come to get you once he has passed. You will be all right?”
She nodded. “Joseph and I will be fine.”
* * *
Ezra helped her down from the buggy and watched as she hurried into the woods. Then, he climbed back to his seat and encouraged Bessie forward just as a vehicle—a white SUV—rounded the bend.
The driver tooted his horn. Ezra steered his mare to the edge of the road and watched as the SUV, the same one that had run Rosie off the road, drove past.
Ezra glanced at the woods, wishing he could see Rosie, but then if he saw her, the man with the patch of white hair could as well.
The SUV braked to a stop and then backed up. The driver’s door opened and Larry Wagner, tall and muscular with a streak of white hair, hurried toward the buggy. “I’m looking for the Runnals home. Can you give me directions?”
“Is that Majorie Runnals for whom you are looking?” Ezra asked.
“Not Marjorie. Her first name is Katherine. She lives around here, but I’m not sure where.”
“There is someone by that name in town.” Ezra scratched his jaw. “Although on second thought, that person’s name might be Christine Reynolds. Could that be the woman for whom you are looking?”
The guy shook his head. “I told you I’m looking for Katherine Runnals’s home. Don’t you Amish stick together and know everyone in the area?”
“I do not know all the Amish in town. Perhaps that is where she lives.”
“Thanks for your help,” the man said, his tone sharp and laced with sarcasm. He hurried back to his car, made a U-turn and drove off.
As soon as the car disappeared from sight, Ezra climbed from the buggy and ran into the woods.
“Rosie?” He looked left and then right, trying to find her in the dense underbrush. “Where are you?”
Heart in his throat, he ran farther, calling her name over and over again. Why didn’t she answer him?
He had been foolish to let her hide on her own. Although she was not alone. She had Joseph, a tiny baby who could not protect himself. Now both of them had disappeared, and Ezra was to blame. His parents were gone, now a beautiful woman. His sister had been right this morning. Ezra never should have gotten involved. He had tried to help Rosie, but he had caused her harm instead of making her life safer. If he had been a real man, he would have found an area to hide the buggy and would have stayed with her and her child.
“Rosie?” He was frantic. Fear for her well-being climbed his spine and made him want to scream with rage.
“Why, Gott?” he said aloud.
“Ezra?”
She was standing near a large pine tree, Joseph still in her arms. He ran to her, unable to voice his feelings. Instead he opened his arms and pulled her close.
“What happened?” she asked.
He shook his head, confused by the mix of emotions that had welled up within him.
“Was it Mr. Wagner?”
“Yah.” Ezra nodded. “He wanted to know where your aunt lived.”
She gasped. “You told him?”
“I would not do that. Come. We must hurry. You cannot go to Katherine’s house.”
“But I have nowhere else to go.”
“Yah, you do.” He grabbed her hand. “Hurry.”
“Where are you taking me, Ezra?”
“I’m taking you to my house at the top of the mountain. We will be able to see the road and anyone who might approach the house. You will be safe there.”
At least that was Ezra’s hope.
EIGHT
Rosie feared not only for her parents’ safety, but also for her aunt’s. Suppose Larry Wagner found Katherine’s house? He had physically attacked her father. Rosie cringed thinking of what he might do to her sweet aunt.
“I’m worried, Ezra,” she said once they had returned to the buggy.
“I have five brothers and sisters who will keep watch on the road heading up the mountain, Rosie. No one arrives at our house without someone in the family seeing their approach. As I told you, you will be safe with us.”
She stared into his eyes. “I know you will protect me as best you can, but right now, I am worried about Katherine. Even though you did not provide directions to her house, someone else might. There are so few families who live on this mountain, I doubt Katherine would be hard to find.”
“Wagner turned around and was headed down the mountain, Rosie. More than likely, he was going back to town.”
“He may be stopping at my parents’ house again.” She shook her head. “I do not think they would have mentioned Katherine to him so how did he know about her?”
“If he knows your parents, he might also know your aunt.”
Another thought crossed her mind, and she cringed. “My employment paperwork at the nursing home.” She grabbed Ezra’s hand. “It asked for information about my next of kin and had a space for another point of contact. I filled Katherine’s name into that blank. A contact phone number was requested, which she does not have. Thankfully, the form did not ask for an address.”
“So if O’Donnell shared your information with Wagner, he would know about Katherine. These two men must be working together, but you cannot blame yourself, Rosie. How would you have known that the information on your employment application could get into the wrong hands?”
“I have to see Katherine. I will not be at peace unless I make sure she is safe. Plus she needs to know about Larry Wagner. Perhaps she could leave the area and visit her daughter over Christmas to remain safe.”
“How terrible that we would think someone would hurt a woman, yet after what Wagner did to you, there is no telling what might befall her. You are being prudent and wise to want to ensure Katherine remains safe.”
Ezra grabbed the reins. “My father built buggies, as you probably know.”
She nodded.
“When his work was done and he was ready to deliver a buggy to the buyer, Datt would do a test ride. He made a path around our farm. It runs above your aunt’s home. We can look down on it and hopefully stay out of sight in case the man is there.”
“We can do that now?” she asked.
Ezra nodded. “The turnoff that will take us to the path is not far. It would be a wise choice to keep you safe as well. If the man returns this way, you might have to hide in the woods again, which is not something I want to have happen. By taking the path, we will stay off the main road and out of sight.”
He flicked the reins and pointed in the distance. “The turnoff is not far.”
Joseph stirred in Rosie’s arms. To quiet the baby, she softly crooned a lullaby and smiled when he fell back to sleep.
“You sing like a songbird,” Ezra said.
Embarrassed by the compliment, she kept her eyes on Joseph.
“My words bother you?” Ezra asked.
“I could never be bothered by nice things you might tell me, but I do not wish to be prideful.”
“I doubt you could be that, Rosie. Besides, it is important to recognize your own gifts from Gott and thank him for them.”
“I do that, Ezra, but I do not recall anyone paying me compliments. My mother wanted me to be free of prideful thoughts. She thought compliments were frivolous. I was to accept who I was and not wish for more than what Gott had given me.”
“And your father?”
“I am not sure how he felt. He was not one to express his feelings, except if I did something that brought his disapproval, which I hate to admit was more often than I would have liked.”
She adjusted the blanket around her sleeping child. “Even his gaze was often filled with accusati
on, as if he was waiting for me to make a mistake. I tried to be a dutiful daughter, yet I failed frequently.”
Ezra shook his head with regret. “Amish fathers are the heads of their families, and they usually take delight in their children. I am sorry you did not have a better life growing up.”
“But it was the only life I knew, Ezra, so how could I say that it was bad? It was what it was.”
“Yet you did not feel love.”
She glanced away, trying to sort through the mix of feelings. Had she felt love from her parents?
“Perhaps that is what I was searching for all my life.”
She had made the wrong decision concerning William, she refused to add. Humiliation washed over her as she thought of the extent of her mistakes and the errors of her ways. She had turned from all she had been taught and run after a man who had promised her so much. Truth be known, the pretty jewelry and things of the world were not what she had sought. Instead it had been love, only she had learned too late that what William wanted to give her was not love...anything but.
“Did you ever make a mistake that you wish you could change, Ezra, yet if you did, that which is most precious to you would have to be given away as well?”
She glanced down at her sleeping child, who had been the good brought from her foolishness. She would do nothing to change her life as his mother. Surely that would be hard for a practical man like Ezra to understand.
She sighed. “You have made me share more than you wanted or needed to hear. Have you this effect on other women who accept rides in your buggy?”
“If by other women, you mean my sisters, I would say they are more than willing to share what is on their minds, even when I do not want to hear it all. They are strong women, perhaps too strong.” He laughed. “I wonder if there will be any man determined enough to accept my fourteen-year-old sister into his heart. Belinda is forthright and speaks her mind whenever she chooses.”
“An Amish wife should stand next to her husband but never in front of him.” Rosie intoned the saying she had heard often within the Amish community.
