by Ruth Price
They stood, and scooted sideways between the sofa and close packed stools towards the room's second entrance, opposite the first on the far wall. From there, Samuel led her down a dark hallway and three closed doors. The Miller house was huge and sprawling. Gas lanterns hung along the walls in intervals of five paces, but none were lit. Sofia could only make their outlines from the bright triangle of light coming from behind her, where the singing circle had gathered.
Walking in the too-long skirt was awkward in the dark, and Sofia stumbled twice, but soon Samuel was turning the knob to another door and outside onto a gravel path banked by garden plants on each side. The sun was setting, painting the sky in orange and red. It was still warm, a bit hot in the dress Abram had lent her, but fear had put a cold layer of sweat on her skin. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of the dress. Her kapp hung awkwardly a bit to the left over her loose hair, the edges touching the top of her ear. Samuel put his finger to his lips and held his hand up, motioning her to stop.
Then Samuel left her, ranging out ahead. Alone, protected only by the partial obstruction of the tomato plants winding up a latticework along the fence, Sofia squatted beside the wall of the Miller house and did her best to stay absolutely silent. Breeze rustled through the garden. A bird cried above. Terrified, Sofia hugged her arms around her chest. Did she believe in God with such an absolute certainty as the Amish people who had come to her aid? She wished she could be certain her prayers would have such power, that her faith could hold strong in the face of loss, betrayal and fear.
Dear God, Sofia said in her mind. I may or may not be one of your believers, but please, if you're listening, don't let him catch me.
Sofia sat for a time after that, flinching at the movement of leaves, until Samuel returned. He waved her over, and she followed. They skirted the Miller land, going around a green cornfield and a barn before tracking along a narrow dirt road that seemed to run the edge of the property. Samuel set a brisk pace, painful in Sofia's too large shoes, but fear propelled her onwards without complaint. They had been walking for close to fifteen minutes when they reached a second, smaller shed, bound by a chain and combination lock. Samuel spun the combination with ease and then throwing the chain over his shoulder, swung the door open.
"Stay put," Samuel said. He as Inside was a fold out table littered with tools in front of a classic car in mid-repair, with steel bumpers and headlights jutting forward from the front hood like eyes. The paint was a dull green, with the passenger's side door exposed metal, but the tires were new and the hubcaps gleamed.
Samuel walked to the car and placing a hand on the hood, said, "I'm not finished with her yet, though I've replaced out the engine and done most of the body work excepting the paint job," He gave Sofia a shy smile. "I got work at a local garage, so I can get the parts at wholesale. Still was a real pain to find a door for a 1940's Oldsmobile."
"You can drive?" Sofia had thought all Amish people rode in buggies like Abram.
"For rumspringa, you're supposed to experience the outside world before deciding whether or not you will stay in the community. I got my driver's license at 18. One of the guys at the garage taught me. I love cars, though I really shouldn't. It would break my mamm's heart if I didn't get baptized and stay here."
"Can't you visit?" Sofia asked. "No matter what, your mom will want to see you."
"I'm her only son. If I leave, I won't—" Samuel's hand clenched on the hood of the car, fingertips pressing into the ancient paint. Though the shed was lit only by cracks in the slats of the walls and a battery powered lamp on the table, "My father died when I was nine. Leaving will feel like a betrayal of everything he taught me of how to be a good and godly man. How can I give that up for a hunk of Englischer metal on wheels?"
Sofia skirted the table and hesitantly placed a palm on Samuel's back. "Your father would want you to be happy," she said. Maybe God's plan for you involves working on cars.
"Maybe," Samuel sighed and rolled his shoulders back. He was dressed in Amish style, black pants, white shirt and suspenders. He rolled the sleeves up on his shirt, revealing well defined arm muscles. "Just give me a minute to get the battery hooked in. I don't turn it on much, so it's better to keep the battery unconnected so that it doesn't get drained if something is left on accidentally. We can take it to Abram's sister's though, once things have settled down, unless there's somewhere else you'd rather go."
"No." Sofia had no idea what to do. She was terrified to contact the police again. That police officer had hurt her, possibly been responsible for kidnapping her in the first place. It seemed unlikely that the entire police force had been involved, but until she regained her memories, she wouldn't know who to trust. Well, she trusted Abram, and Samuel. None of the Amish people who had sheltered her seemed to have any interest beyond helping her. They were good people. "I need time to find out who I am. I have a name at least. Maybe I can go to a library and research more about myself tomorrow." Maybe there would be some sort of missing persons report on her. Some way she could find someone who knew her without running the risk of being threatened again. "But maybe tomorrow or the next day, I could visit a library? I don't want to contact the police again, not without knowing more about myself."
"My younger sister and some others in the community sell baked goods at the Reading Terminal market on some weekdays," Samuel said. "You can ride with them into the city, but the city library won't open until Monday and I don't think they're going until Tuesday or Wednesday. Why don't you join us for Church meeting tomorrow, and I can take you to the Lancaster library on Monday? Someone there should be able to help you with the computers."
"Yes, please!" Sofia said. "If it isn't too much trouble. I don't know what I can give--"
"It doesn't matter. You'll be our guest for a while. A beautiful Englischer lady is its own reward, ja."
Sofia's cheeks grew warm. Beautiful? She had looked at herself briefly in Abram's mirror, mainly hoping to recognize something, but she hadn't considered her appearance beyond that. She was slim, and her hair had been lightened. Her skin was light, and she had a mole on her left cheek. Her eyes were a bit round and brown, her cheekbones were a bit flat, pointed chin and jaw a bit too wide. She had full lips and thin lashes. Her ears were pierced with small pearl studs that felt like nothing in them; she had probably worn them a while to grow so used to them. She supposed she was pretty enough. Beautiful though...no, that had to be more flattery than truth.
Samuel smiled, and his eyes shone in the dull light of the battery operated lamp on the table behind them. "We can stay here for the next hour or so, then go back before the circle breaks up."
"Back?" Her heart beat faster. "Why do we need to go back?"
"Safer to have you leave in one of the buggies. You're dressed plain. All we need to do is properly braid your hair. Anyone watching will just assume you're one of the girls who came for the circle. Hide in plain sight," he grinned. "Literally."
Sofia couldn't help but grin at Samuel's cleverness. "What a great idea!"
He ran a hand through his hair, longish a hit in the front, and said, "Denki." It's nothing though."
"Are the seats done?" Sofia asked. "Inside your car?"
"Ja. Did you want to sit inside?"
"Might be nice."
"No radio yet though I do have a small handheld. I got used to working to classic rock at the garage. This way, Miss Grace."
She felt she should correct her name to Sofia, but who knew if that was even right? Samuel lead her around the front of the car, outlining the work he'd done on the exterior and engine with an enthusiasm that brought warmth to his handsome features. He moved his hands as he spoke in dramatic gestures, pointing towards this and that like an excited child. When he finally pulled the door open and gestured for her to step inside, she felt as though she'd been given a rapidfire education on the intricacies of how to repair and maintain a car. It was interesting and fun. Samuel's energy was like fire to the deep calm of Abram's deli
berate nature. His energy drew her in a different way from Abram's calm assurance.
She stepped into the car; the seat was smooth leather but the floor was as yet uncarpeted, with bits of open space exposing the undercarriage. She breathed in the scent of leather, oil and iron as Samuel walked around the car and sat in the driver's seat.
"I'm sorry," Samuel said. "I've just been talking and talking at you."
"It's fine," Sofia said. "I like listening. It's clear how much you care for this."
"Yeah, well..."
"It's not a bad thing." Sofia wondered at his religion that would make him choose to abandon something that meant so much to him. "If you decide not to follow Amish ways, what would your family say?"
"Nothing. I mean, my mother would be disappointed, profoundly so, but she would say nothing. I know at this point people think my choice should be obvious. They say I'm simply too afraid or too selfish to make a decision, or that I've already made one. The wrong one. But I do want God to be in my life and for us to have a close relationship. It's just hard to let go."
Sofia didn't understand why he should have to, but she barely understood them so it didn't seem her place to judge. "I think God would want you to be happy," she said.
"Ja."
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the creaking of the wind over the shed and the awakening of the nighttime animals and insects. There was an anticipation in the air, half fear of what might await her outside, and half something more visceral. Samuel was a handsome man. Even in relative stillness, he exuded energy, tapping his index finger against his thigh. He said, "I wish I had something to feed you. You must be hungry."
She was, but she only shrugged. "It's fine." In order to forestall another long silence, Sofia said, "Maybe you should show me how Amish girls braid their hair?"
"I—uhh--" Samuel ran his hand through his hair, pulling it at the ends.
Sofia smiled. "I assume there's some method to it. And I'll need something to tie the ends with."
"Hold on," Samuel opened the car door. He went to the toolbox and rummaged around or a bit, until he came out with a spool of white string and a pair of scissors. Balancing them in his left arm, he got back into the car, placed the scissors and string on his lap before cutting off two lengths of about four inches. "I've only watched my mamm and sisters do this, but I think if I do the part, you should be able to handle the rest."
"Thank you." Sofia removed the kapp and turned in the seat so that her back was to his. "Is that good?"
"Fine," Samuel said. "Lean back a little so I can reach the front." Sofia did as instructed and Samuel placed his fingers at her front hairline, deftly running them in a line towards her neck to create a part. "You're going to have to braid this tightly," he said. "Your hair is a bit short, but it should do I think." He took the first half and combed it gently with his fingers. "Why do you dye it?" he asked.
Sofia shrugged.
"Right, you wouldn't know. But you should stop. Your natural color is prettier at your roots. It's got amber highlights."
Sofia's face heated. She wondered if the blush was apparent all the way to the back of her neck. Thankfully the light in here was dim. Samuel's fingers worked gently through her wavy hair, tugging at the knots. Then he put it into three sections and braided it tightly. He was close, the light spice of his soap or aftershave or maybe just him caressed her nose, just as his fingers gently worked her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the languid sensuality of his hands, the gentle movements of the breeze over the slats of the shed, and the caress of the cooling night air.
When he had finished, he handed her a piece of string and asked, "Can you finish the rest?"
Sofia took the string and wove it around the end of her hair, leaving a short wavy curl at the bottom as Samuel finished the second braid. When she had tied the second, she allowed herself to lean back into the chair. Samuel stared at her.
"What is it?" Sofia asked, touching one of the braids. "Is something wrong?"
"Aside from the eyebrows, you really look plain. No! I mean, like us."
Sofia laughed. "Thank you, I guess."
"No, it's good. You still need to put on the kapp."
Sofia took the kapp from where it had fallen on her lap and placed it on her head.
"No. Like this," Samuel leaned over to adjust it, his fingers brushing her cheeks as he tied it in a bow below her neck. When he was finished, his fingers lingered. He gazed into her eyes, and a tendril of desire curled in Sofia's belly. He didn't make her feel safe like Abram, but she liked his energy, the optimistic way he went about thing in spite of the difficult decisions he had to face. Still, she was far too much of a mess to offer him anything. She ran her thumb over the wrist hem of the dress that Abram had given her. Abram's wife's dress, a woman who he had loved so deeply and with all of his heart. Somehow, kissing another man in these clothes felt like a betrayal of that gift. Outside, an owl cried. Embarrassed, Sofia turned her head to look out the side window. "Thank you," she said.
"I'm sorry," Samuel said, settling back into his chair. "I didn't meant to make you uncomfortable."
"You haven't."
"We should get going to my mom's. The singing circle should have wrapped up by now. I'll just explain what's going on and ask if you can sleep in my sister's room."
"Are you sure that's okay?"
"It's a little odd, but she'll listen to me, and she wouldn't put a lady out after dark. Especially not someone in need."
"I can't thank you enough. For everything."
"God tells us to love our neighbor as ourselves and help those in need. Abram might be a bit of a stick in the mud, but he's right about that."
"He's not a stick!" Sofia said, eager to defend Abram. Quiet and steady, certainly, but beneath that, he had a depth that came not only from pain but from a confidence that couldn't be faked. Abram knew who and what he was.
Samuel cocked his head. "Ahhh..." His lips ghosted a smile. "I see."
"What?"
"Well, I've always enjoyed a challenge, ja." Not waiting for a response, Samuel opened the car door. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yes." Sofia said. Not that Sofia hadn't enjoyed Samuel's company. Not that she didn't want to feel his lips on hers. It was all so confusing! Sofia hoped it would all become clear in the morning. Maybe more of her memories would come back, and she'd know what the police officer had done to her and why. All she knew was that he had hurt her.
"Good. I need to get something from the glove compartment, then we can go. Why don't you stand over there?" Samuel said, pointing towards the door.
Sofia did as she was told. Sam leaned over to the passenger's side of the car and jiggled with the glove compartment handle. It took a few shakes before it open, spilling its contents onto the floor. Her view of the fallen contents was shielded by his body, but she noticed that when he stood, something dull and metal was in his lap. It took a moment for Sofia to realize what it might be, but still she didn't believe. "Is that a gun?" Sofia asked.
"I got it at a show. It's a revolver. I've only fired it a few times at the range." Samuel shoved the gun barrel first into the back of his pants.
Sofia was incredulous. She knew that Samuel had not yet joined the Amish community, but she'd thought of him as Amish. She'd never thought of him as dangerous. "Are you sure that's safe?"
"Don't worry, it's not loaded," Samuel said. "I have some bullets in my pocket, but I'll only load it if there's an emergency."
"I don't want you to bring it," Sofia said. As scared as she was of the two men who were stalking her, she didn't want to invite more violence into her new friends lives. "You should throw it away."
"I'm not going to use it unless there's a problem. Like if those men come around, if they're the ones who attacked you."
"Please, don't," Sofia begged him. She wasn't even sure why she was so set against Samuel having such a weapon. If that policeman, the one whose voice she recognized if only in her fear of it, came back
, he would certainly have a gun. Sofia wouldn't be able to resist him without some way to defend herself. But the thought of seeing Samuel with that gun in hand, the blood it would leave on his spirit if he fired it, was too sad to contemplate. "I can't stand the thought of your using that thing. Please, leave it here. Or better yet, sell it and buy something else for your car."
Samuel stood and crossed the shed, cupping Sofia's hands in his. "You are so good. It's in every part of you, a God given light that makes things clearer and more beautiful just for having been shone upon."
"So you'll leave it?"
Samuel squeezed her hands, for an instant tightly enough to hurt. "It's for my family too," he said. "I'll only use it if I have no choice."
As Sofia followed Samuel from the shed, fear settled over her, stronger and deeper than before. She willed herself as best she could to remember.
When they reached the end of the field, Samuel said, "Stop." He hopped over a gully and then said, "Take my hand."
It took another twenty minutes to reach Samuel's home. In that time, the best her memory gave her was the smell of damp, a diamond ring, and the muffled ringing of a land line phone. It was ephemeral, so much so that Sofia felt she might have imagined it all in her desperation. None of it measured to the warmth of Samuel's hand.
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Into The Light, Book 2
In God’s Hands, Book 3
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