by Emma Miller
“Whoa, boy, it’s okay.”
The horse settled down, but Bram’s nerves still jangled.
He had let himself get into the worst position he could imagine. No car, no backup, no telephone, a woman to worry about...
At the thought of Ellie, he cast a glance backward along the road, where the moonlight stretched its silent way behind him. No lights cast a glow under the overhanging trees, and no motor sound echoed in the still night. Would she be safe?
If anything happened to her...
The rising heat found a focus. Kavanaugh. The man loved killing, whether he pulled the trigger or ordered one of his men to do the job, and he struck without warning. No open spray of hot bullets from a tommy gun for him. The snake preferred to kill with a derringer.
Bram pressed against the lump of the pistol in his pocket. With luck, he could protect himself if Kavanaugh found him, but what about Ellie and the children? What about her parents?
The heat against Kavanaugh was quenched in a dash of ice. Before he’d come, they had been safe. Yeah, sure, the gangsters were in the area, but they never would have thought of searching among these peaceful farms if it wasn’t for him. He was the one who had put them in danger.
Rising irritation hammered against his tactics so far. He had established his cover, but now he needed to use the cover to do more than just hide. Kavanaugh was around, for sure, but it was time for Bram to be on the other side of the table. No more scared rabbit for him. He would become the fox and hunt out that snake.
Should he put a call in to Peters? The FBI agent would love to know he had found Kavanaugh, but then what? All Bram could tell him was that he had seen Kavanaugh in Goshen. Peters wouldn’t be able to act on such a slim lead, not when things were so hot in Chicago.
Besides, if he contacted Peters, he’d increase the risk that his location would be known, and it could get out to the wrong people.
Bram shifted on the buggy seat, his skin crawling. Kavanaugh wasn’t his only enemy, or his worst. Someone had tipped off Kavanaugh about the raid in April, and it had to be someone in Peters’s office. If he was premature in contacting the Chicago office, he’d have to leave the area quickly and quietly. No goodbyes, no explanations, no contact...not even Ellie.
The scent of her as he had held her close filled his mind, and he shut his eyes against the memory. Why had he dared to kiss her cheek like that? Her sweet face enticed him until he nearly turned the buggy around to get one more look at her. How could he bear to leave her?
He couldn’t. The only thing he could do was to start hunting.
* * *
Ellie woke with a start in the hot bedroom, the early-morning sun at work already. If she hurried, she might have a chance to water the strawberries before fixing breakfast.
Benjamin was already at her pump, filling a bucket.
“Denki, Ben, I slept late this morning.” She grabbed a second bucket to fill.
“When I finished my chores early, Dat said you might need a hand.”
They walked through the gate, each carrying a full bucket of water. Ben had already finished two of the rows, so Ellie started on the third. As she reached each plant, she tipped the bucket to splash water onto it. The ground was dry and dusty, even though she had done this same chore the morning before.
“It’s so dry.”
“It’s bad for your strawberries. Look at this one.” Ben stopped watering and knelt down to show Ellie the next plant. “It’s hardly grown at all from when you planted it a month ago.”
Ellie reached out to lift up the stems of the heat-stressed plant. The seedlings were still green, but the papery leaves and stunted growth told her they were just barely alive.
“If we can just keep them going until it rains...”
“It doesn’t look like it will, at least not for the next week.”
“Well, it has to rain sometime.” Ellie chewed on her lip, remembering the days and weeks without rain two years ago. It couldn’t happen again, could it?
“Maybe we’re in for another drought. Dat said the pond is lower than he’s ever seen it.”
Ellie shot her brother a glance. He had no idea what a drought would do to her plans. She went back to watering her row. Every farmer knew that weather went in cycles. They had just gone through years of drought, but last year’s normal rainfall was the end of that cycle, wasn’t it?
“The pond is spring fed—it won’t dry up. That will help us, won’t it?” There had to be hope somewhere.
“Ja, that’s what Dat said. But it gets low in drought years, just the same.”
Low water. But she had a well, and there was another one for the big house and the barn. There would be enough water for them all.
There had to be.
She continued down the row, giving each plant a splash of water.
Ellie straightened for just a minute to ease her back, and her mind flitted ahead to the rest of the day. It was a church Sunday. Would Bram be there?
She tipped the bucket at the next plant.
The thought of seeing him again sent her heart beating fast. Did she even want to see him, after what he told her last night?
Ja. When he grinned at her, that secretive grin meant just for her, it drove all other thoughts out of her head. And then last night when he had kissed her cheek! Ellie stopped with the bucket in midair, remembering that delicious, tender kiss as he had held her close. He made her feel...
Ellie smiled to herself as she finished one row and turned to start the next one. He made her feel like a girl with a beau instead of a widow with three children. Even if he was Englisch, even if he was leaving soon, it was a wonderful-gut feeling.
“Ach, Ellie. What are you smiling about?”
Ben passed her with his bucket, heading back to the pump.
“Today’s a meeting Sunday, ja?”
“For sure it is. We’d best be hurrying on.”
* * *
Bram opened the back door of the house quietly, last night’s caution still weighing on him. He reached into his pocket to let his hand close around the reassuring grip of the gun while he surveyed the barn and fields. Nothing out of place.
It was early, but he had a harness to mend before church. That cut rein had haunted his dreams. Was it a warning, or was it just Samuel’s spiteful way of delaying him?
Bram shifted his shoulders and stepped onto the back porch. He was letting himself get spooked. Caution was one thing, but panic could kill him.
In the quiet of the barn, with Partner’s munching the only sound, Bram concentrated on splicing the ends of the harness together. The task of tapering the blunt ends so they would fit together smoothly was so familiar that he did most of the work by touch.
Was this what God was doing to him? His own blunt edges were being shaped to fit into this community, conforming in a way that he never had during his childhood. God’s presence was with him, molding and shaving off the rough edges, taking away his past more cleanly and completely than shutting it up behind a door.
Growing up, he had never felt part of the people, but now God was taking the rough, blunt mess of his life and working it into the community bit by bit, just as he was taking this piece of leather and binding it to the other. Nothing he had ever done gave him the satisfaction that his life here did, even if he did face the frustrations of living without modern conveniences when he needed them. Sometimes conveniences were necessities.
Bram stopped working and looked out the open door of the barn to the quiet lane and the road beyond. If Kavanaugh ever found him, all he had gained would be lost, just as quickly and cleanly as this strap had been cut.
Ellie. Knowing she was close, just a few miles down the road, was like money in the bank. He grimaced at that thought. Not like money, something much more secure, fixed, i
mmovable, like the North Star. No matter where he went or what he did, she would be his center.
Bram tried the strength of the splice, and it held. Time to harness Partner and then get cleaned up for Sunday meeting.
Taking the brush from the wall, he moved into Partner’s stall. The horse looked at him, his brown eyes calmly accepting whatever Bram wanted him to do. The horse trusted him.
Ellie’s nod last night was her acceptance of him, the one thing he needed. The one thing he craved. She trusted him.
That thought whooshed through him like a north wind, and with weak knees, he leaned against Partner, the brush dangling from his hand. How could he ever live up to her trust?
There was one big problem, though. He couldn’t live up to her trust. He knew that and God knew that, so why had he even asked it of her? All he could do was his best. He prayed it would be enough.
* * *
Deacon Beachey’s sunny farmyard emptied quickly after families finished the Sunday dinner of cold-cut sandwiches and potato salad. The sweltering heat made activity impossible, and families left early to find some relief in their shaded yards. Mam came out of the house with her empty dinner basket hanging from one arm.
“Dat’s ready to go home, Ellie. Are you?”
Ellie shifted Danny in her arms. “Ja, I’m ready. The children are so hot, and Danny is ready for his nap.”
“Ach, let me take the sweet boy. I’m sure heat rash is bothering him.” Mam reached for Danny and then nodded past Ellie. “Besides, I think you might have plans for the rest of the afternoon.”
Ellie didn’t have to turn around to know Bram was walking toward them; she could see that by the smile on Mam’s face. Bram had gotten on her good side when she saw him working so hard at the barn raising yesterday.
“I’ll see to the children. They can nap at our house in the downstairs bedroom. It will be cool for them there. You won’t need to worry about getting home soon.”
“Mam, ne. You don’t need to...” But Mam took Danny to the family buggy, rounding up Johnny and Susan as she went.
“Is she stealing your children?” Bram was smiling as he walked up to her.
“Ja, Mam and Dat are taking them home. It will be cooler for them there.”
“So you’re left on your own?”
“I’ll be able to get a ride from someone, I’m sure. Lovina and her family are still here.”
“You don’t need to ask them as long as I’m here.”
Bram’s eyes dropped as if he had said more than he meant to, and Ellie felt her face heat even more as she remembered the last time they had spoken and how close he had held her. Was he thinking the same thing?
“Will you let me take you home? We can drive around by the lake again. It will be slow, but we’re not in a hurry, are we?”
“Ne, I’m not in a hurry. It would be a nice drive.”
As Bram headed off to get his buggy, a niggling feeling told Ellie he was worried about something, but she had promised to trust him. She let herself watch his shoulders move easily beneath his Sunday coat as he walked. He was a handsome man, pleasant to talk to, and his smiles made her heart flutter. Any woman would be pleased to have his attention. Ja, any woman, so why would he think she was special?
“Ellie, do you need a ride home?” Lovina joined her at the edge of the drive with Rachel.
“Ne, denki. Bram is taking me.”
Noah drove up, and Lovina helped Rachel climb into the buggy, giving Ellie a knowing smile. “Then you’ll be busy the rest of the day, ja?” Lovina made sure Rachel was settled next to Noah, then stepped closer to Ellie. “Is he taking you somewhere special?”
“Ne, just home.”
Lovina gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You’ve been looking too happy lately for this to be just a ride home. I think Bram Lapp is good for you.”
“Get yourself on home and take care of your family.” Ellie gave Lovina a quick hug before she climbed into Noah’s buggy.
What did Lovina mean, Bram was good for her?
Bram’s buggy stopped beside her and she looked up at him, smiling as he held the horse quiet so she could climb up to the seat beside him. His dimple winked under his whiskers, making her heart flip as he held out one hand to help her.
Ja, Bram was good for her.
* * *
Bram kept Partner at a walk. He could smell the lake as they got closer. Emma Lake stretched away to the north from the road, the low water exposing black, silt mud. Lily pads covered the water at this south end, but the rest of the lake was a mirror under the flawless blue sky.
Turning north onto Emma Road, the black silt gave way to a sandy shore separating the lake from the road. Bram pulled Partner over to a spot where someone had placed a bench under a lone tree.
“Do you mind if we stop here for a bit?”
“Ne. We can sit in the shade.”
Bram helped Ellie settle on the bench near the shore where the overhanging trees made a shady cover.
“This is a great fishing spot.”
Ellie didn’t answer. She looked out over the quiet lake with that worry line between her eyebrows again.
“Last night...” Bram stopped. He had never felt like this before—as if he was one man torn in two directions. He wished Kavanaugh would just disappear.
“Last night you told me you never intended to stay here.” Ellie kept her eyes on the far side of the lake, where a heron stalked in the shallows. “I know I said I’d trust you, Bram, but I don’t know what to think. You’re like two different people sometimes—sweet and tender one minute, and then harsh and almost frightening other times.”
“Ja, I know, and I’m sorry.” Bram paused, his own eyes on the motionless heron. The bird was nearly invisible in the shadow of the trees, his gray-blue coloring a shadow within a shadow. Living undercover. How did a man stop living a lie?
“I want to stay, Ellie. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to.” He took her hand in his, and she looked at him.
“Even if you stay, we can never be more than friends.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, her blue eyes reflecting the water.
“Aren’t we already more than friends, Ellie?”
Her face flushed and she turned away again, drawing her hand out of his grasp. “Just because you kissed me once doesn’t mean anything. I’m not a woman you should be courting.”
Bram picked up a stone from between his feet and threw it into the water. She was right. She wasn’t the woman he should be courting, especially now that he knew Kavanaugh was in the neighborhood, but why did she think so?
“You know I can’t marry outside the church, Bram.”
She said it softly but firmly, as if she had rehearsed the words again and again. He wrestled with the overwhelming desire to prove her wrong, but she was right. He couldn’t marry her, at least not now.
“You’re going to marry someone else, aren’t you?”
Even though she kept her face averted, he could see her eyes filling with tears. “Ne, Bram. There’s no one else.”
“So you plan to remain a widow and raise your children by yourself?” Should he tell her she was crazy for thinking she could do such a thing or admire her for her courage?
“Ja. I have to.”
“And where will you live? With your parents?”
Ellie swallowed hard. The tears had stopped, leaving her face mottled in the afternoon heat. “I still own Daniel’s farm. Our farm. There are tenants there now, but...” Her face paled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ach, I try not to think about it, but the tenants haven’t paid their rent and I can’t pay the taxes.”
Who would leave a widow without an income? Bram had a brief flash of what he would do to that faceless man if he ever saw him. “Tell me
who they are. I’ll get them to pay.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “Ne, Bram. You can’t do anything. Mr. Brenneman lost his job. The family has no money.”
The faceless man had a name, a family. Bram’s anger disappeared like sand washed away by a wave. “Have you thought of asking John?”
“Ja, Dat would help if he could, but he doesn’t have that kind of money. And the church would help, but Bishop wants me to marry Levi Zook. He wouldn’t say so, but I know he’d expect me to obey his wishes if I took their help.”
Levi Zook? The man’s round face danced in front of his eyes. Would Ellie consider marrying him? Could he stand by and watch that happen?
“I can help you. When are the taxes due?”
Ellie looked at him, her eyes wide. He’d do anything for her to see her look at him like that again.
“I can’t let you do that. It’s a lot of money.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? Can’t you let a friend help? You can pay me back after your tenants pay you.”
She shifted on the bench. She was considering it, but he knew she had run out of options. Bram prayed she would let him help her. He longed to do so much more than just give her some money.
Ellie turned to face him. “I have to know one thing, Bram. Where did you get your money?”
That wasn’t the response he was expecting. “What do you mean?”
“I know you paid cash for your farm. You’ve spent a lot of money fixing it up, plus buying your buggy, the horse, equipment for the farm... Bram, where did you get that kind of money?”
Bram felt cold in spite of the summer heat. If Ellie was wondering, who else had listened to Samuel’s attempt at rabble-rousing yesterday? Would Kavanaugh hear rumors about an Amishman spending cash when no one else had any?
“I earned it working in Chicago. It was a reward for...” For ratting out his friends? Ne, for getting murderous scum off the streets. “It was payment for some work I did for the FBI.”
Ellie nodded, the line between her eyes relaxing. “All right. I’ll let you help me, but only if you don’t tell anyone.”
