by Debby Giusti
“About six or seven miles,” Colby said. “We can head there later today, after we check out Pinecraft. I thought we’d stop at one of the diners and ask a few questions first. From what I’ve read, the area is a melting pot for Amish and Mennonite folks from around the country. They seem to let down some barriers when they’re on vacation.”
“Meaning they’ll share information.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
Colby exited the freeway and ended up on the east-west thoroughfare. Passing Oak View Drive on the left, they took the next major right into a community of small bungalows and a scattering of shops. Mobile homes were nestled in between modest cinder-block homes where palm trees and flowering shrubs added color and texture to the eclectic neighborhood.
Three-wheeled bicycles were parked in front of a restaurant that served Pennsylvania Dutch cooking. A sign in the window read, “Schmeckt mir gut.”
“Loosely translated it means the food tastes good,” Becca told him.
“Looks like the crowd agrees.” Colby pointed to the clusters of people milling around in the parking lot.
A number of the men were dressed in denim overalls and straw hats. Others wore white shirts and dark trousers held up with suspenders. The majority of men had beards that partially covered their weatherworn faces.
The women wore simple dresses and sturdy shoes. Some had white bonnets and aprons. Others piled their hair in large buns at the back of their neck. The loose strands blew around their faces in the gentle breeze.
“Let’s get lunch and see if anyone remembers the Yoder family.” Colby pulled into a vacant parking space and stepped from the car.
After the long drive, Colby wondered if coming to Pinecraft had been a good idea. He glanced at Becca. Once again, her face was marked with worry. If only the trip would provide information they needed about Jacob Yoder and his brother. Maybe then she could forget the past and move on with her future.
* * *
Becca opened the car door and hesitated a moment, eying an unleashed dog nearby. Waiting until the mutt passed by, she turned to find Colby watching her.
Shifting away from his gaze, she studied the gathering of plain folks, whose friendly chatter and laughter seemed infectious. For a fleeting moment, Becca longed to recapture the essence of her youth. The simple dresses and open faces, all fresh and natural, tugged at the memories she held in the deep recesses of her heart.
A young woman, standing with a number of teens, reminded her of Katie, with her trim body and warm smile.
Becca waved to the small child in an older woman’s arms. The toddler giggled and then hid his face against his mother’s neck.
Colby touched her arm. He leaned toward her, close enough that she could smell his aftershave. “Too many memories?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. She was struck again with the pain of loss. Katie had been such a sweet soul. She should have married well and had a houseful of children of her own. Instead, she had been murdered. All the possibilities of what could have been had ended that terrible night Jacob Yoder forced his way into their home.
If only Becca could have arrived earlier. She could have saved Katie or sent her scurrying into the night away from danger.
Instead Jacob had found her sister, hiding in the pantry.
“Becca.” Colby’s voice was laced with concern.
She pulled in a ragged breath and focused on the wooden walkway leading to the restaurant. “We’d better get a table before everyone realizes it’s lunchtime.”
A young woman in a light blue dress and apron showed them to a booth by the window. For a long moment, they watched the flow of traffic on the main road and the influx of people who biked or walked toward the restaurant.
“I would never expect so many Amish to gather here,” Becca said. “In Harmony, the Amish kept to themselves. Here it seems they mix with everyone.”
“The information I read said many of the folks bus to Pinecraft each year. They rent homes in the area and make friends with people from all over the country.”
“They seem so opposite from the closed communities farther north.” She thought of her own hesitancy to reveal the truth about Jacob Yoder years ago until he’d become such a threat that she had to tell her father.
What would have happened, if she’d been forthright and gotten help from the local authorities? Would McDougal have listened to an Amish girl who claimed a married man had tried to touch her?
Naive as she had been back then, she would have choked on the words and would never have been able to describe how he had lured her to the barn and forced her down onto the hay and tried to have his way with her.
So many people didn’t understand why she had run away from Harmony. She wasn’t running away from the Amish way of life per se. She was running away from Jacob.
He had warned her when she first went to work for him that she could never run away. He would find her. Which is exactly what he had done.
* * *
“A penny for your thoughts,” Colby said from across the table.
Becca shook her head. “Sorry, I was thinking back to Harmony.”
“You’ll feel better after you eat.”
They both studied the expansive menu.
“I’ll have the chicken with homemade noodles, mashed potatoes and gravy,” Becca told the waitress when she returned to take their order.
“Meat loaf with the same sides.” He looked at Becca. “Iced tea?”
“Please.”
The waitress, a middle-aged woman with rosy cheeks, brought two glasses of tea and a basket of freshly baked rolls still warm from the oven.
“I may go into carb overload,” Becca said as she placed a plump roll on her bread plate.
Colby did the same, and before he reached for the butter, he noted a family sitting at the next table. The four young children sat still as the parents bowed their heads and offered a blessing over the food they were about to eat.
“My father leads the grace at our house,” Colby shared. The memory brought a warm spot to his heart. He’d forsaken prayer since his first deployment. Somehow thanking God hadn’t seemed necessary in a war zone, which in retrospect was the most obvious place to include God.
Colby had survived four tours and too many close calls to count. He joked that his mom and dad and sisters’ prayers had brought him home safe and sound from each deployment, yet he himself had given the Lord only the scantest attention in all that time. Dawson’s prayer yesterday had seem fitting, and here, in this family-style restaurant, the need to invoke the Lord seemed fitting, as well.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to offer a blessing?” he asked Becca.
She shook her head. “Go ahead. You lead.”
So much for trying to pass the buck. He cleared his throat and lowered his gaze. “Father God, thank You for our safe journey this morning and for the warm welcome at this restaurant. We ask Your blessing on the food we are about to eat and on those who prepared it. Lead us to information about the Yoder brothers and keep us safe as we do our job.” He glanced up, seeing her bowed head and closed eyes.
“Amen,” they murmured in unison.
As if she had been waiting for the conclusion of their blessing, the waitress appeared almost immediately with their plates.
Colby’s mouth watered at the savory aroma and the huge servings. “Do you cook like this?” he asked Becca.
She shook her head and stared at her plate. “I should have asked for a child’s portion.”
The food was as delicious as it was bountiful, and they both ate with relish.
“My mother makes a mean meat loaf, but nothing this good,” Colby said as he reached for his tea.
“Which you shouldn’t mention when you call home.”
He laughed. “I know when to be tactful.”
She paused, a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth. “You’re very considerate, Colby.”
Considerate? He’d take that as a compliment, although he hoped she saw other attributes in him as well, which he continued to mull over as he finished eating.
At the conclusion of the meal, he sighed with contentment. “My father says a man works better with a full stomach.”
Becca laughed. “I’m not sure that applies to women.”
She opened her purse, but Colby held up his hand. “I’ve got the check.”
He motioned to the waitress who hurried to the table.
“You enjoyed the food?” she asked, reaching for his plate.
“We did. Thank you.” He eyed her name tag. “Miriam, we’re trying to locate the Yoder family. They had two sons Ezekiel and Jacob. Both would be in their mid-thirties by now.”
“They live in Pinecraft?”
“Years ago they did. Jacob went north to Alabama at some point. I’m not sure what happened to Ezekiel.”
The waitress nodded. “I’ll check with the other staff, but I do not know the family of which you speak, although Yoder is a common name. There’s a Yoder’s restaurant in the area, but they do not have sons those ages.”
When the waitress left the table, Becca said to Colby, “We need to find an older person who might remember the Yoders we’re looking for.”
He gazed through the window at a nearby vegetable market and convenience store. “Let’s keep asking until we find someone who does remember.”
The waitress returned shaking her head. “Everyone who works here has only come to the area in the last ten years or so. There was an older family named Yoder that moved north some time ago.”
“Did they have sons?”
“Three girls.”
Colby paid the check, and both he and Becca thanked the waitress for her help. After leaving the restaurant, they hurried across the parking lot to the marketplace.
An Amish man in his thirties greeted them with a warm smile. “May I help you?”
After explaining their need for information, he shook his head. “I knew a Yoder family in Ohio, but no one by that name in the local area.” He pointed to one of the side streets. “Hershel Trotter and his wife have lived in Pinecraft for many years and rent rooms on the next street over. They might be of help.”
Leaving their car, Colby and Becca walked to the house the clerk in the market had described. A small sign in the front yard read Rooms for Rent.
The sound of voices drew them to the backyard. Four couples—the men in denim overalls and women in simple dresses—stood around two shuffleboard courts. A hefty man, mid-fifties with gray hair and an equally gray beard, shoved his puck down the court. His lie was good, and he received shouts of encouragement from the others.
One of the men turned as Becca and Colby approached.
“Good day.” Becca nodded to the man and his wife. She glanced at the other couples who had halted their revelry and were peering with questioning eyes at the special agents.
Colby let Becca take the lead, knowing her Amish roots would put her in better stead.
After introducing herself and Colby, she held up her CID identification. “We’re searching for information about a family that lived in Pinecraft fifteen to twenty years ago by the name of Yoder.”
The man eyed them with skepticism and shook his head. “Yoder is a common name.”
“Jacob and Ezekiel were the sons,” Becca offered.
“Perhaps Herschel knows them.”
As if having heard his name mentioned, a man—no doubt, Herschel—stuck his head out the back door. “Wiegates?”
One of the men pointed to Becca and Colby. “These people are looking for someone named Yoder who lived here years ago.”
“Abram Yoder?” Herschel asked as he stepped onto the back stoop.
“We only know the names of the Yoder sons,” Becca said. “Jacob and Ezekiel.”
“Yah, that would be Abram Yoder’s family.”
“Where is Abram now?” Colby asked.
“With the Lord. He moved north and died some years ago.”
“Do you have information about his family?”
“Abram was a quiet man who kept to himself.”
If only Mr. Trotter would be more forthcoming.
Colby stepped closer. “Sir, do you know anyone who might have information about the sons?”
Trotter rubbed his beard and stared into the sky. “Sally Schrock would know.”
“Where can we find her?” Becca’s voice was peppered with a dash of irritation. Colby raised his brow ever so slightly, encouraging her to keep her cool. They didn’t need to antagonize Mr. Trotter, especially when he seemed willing to share information.
Trotter pointed to a small house sitting on the corner. “Sally’s home is there, but today she went with her son and daughter-in-law to Siesta Key. They fish or walk along the sand, and she sits and watches the people.”
Colby groaned internally. “How far away would that be?”
The big man pursed his lips and shrugged. “Too far to go by bike.”
“I have a car.”
“Then you will have no problem.” Trotter pointed west. “Siesta Beach is eight miles away on the Gulf. Follow the signs along the highway.”
“Where will we find Sally?”
“Sitting under a large orange beach umbrella.”
“She’s Amish?” Becca asked.
“Sally is a friend of the Amish and Mennonite communities, but she’s English.”
Colby and Becca offered their thanks and headed back to the car, encouraged by having a name and a possible contact who might know about the Yoder brothers. In spite of the afternoon traffic, they soon arrived at the beach.
Colby parked in the lot provided and sat for a long moment as Becca took in the view of the peaceful inlet on the far western side of the city. The white sandy beach eased into crystal-blue water that stretched to the horizon. Gulls circled overhead, and an occasional pelican glided over the waves seemingly oblivious to the scattering of people on the shore.
“Such a beautiful spot.” Becca inhaled deeply. “The air’s clean, fresher than anything I’ve ever smelled.”
“You sound like my sisters.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He regarded her sweet face, feeling a strong desire to draw her close. In truth Becca didn’t remind him of his sisters. She reminded him of all that was good in life. Unable to stop himself, he reached for a lock of her hair.
She turned to face him, her gaze full of question.
“I’m glad you transferred to Georgia, Becca. Meeting you has helped me put some of the pieces of my past in better focus.”
“Is that a good thing, Colby?” Her voice low and full of emotion.
He touched her cheek. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’ve spent eight years running from my past.”
“I’ll help you find Jacob.”
She smiled. “Let’s see if we can find Sally first.”
Pulling back, Colby realized, once again, that he needed to be cautious around Becca and not reveal the mix of feelings that welled up within him whenever they were together.
He pointed toward the beach. “Notice the orange beach umbrella.”
Becca nodded. “Looks like we’ve found her. Let’s hope she’ll lead us to at least one of the Yoder brothers.”
* * *
Sally Schrock was petite and wrinkled with bright pink lipstick and rosy cheeks, not from the sun but from makeup. Her flamboyant beach cover-up and painted nails didn’t match the Amish and Mennonite profile of the other folks they’d met in Pinecraft
, but if what Trotter had told them was true, she knew the people and fit in with the vacating tourists.
“Mr. Trotter said we’d find you here,” Becca mentioned once she had introduced herself and Colby.
A couple of rods and reels were stuck in the sand. An insulated cooler sat nearby. Sally pointed to two empty beach chairs.
“The fish aren’t biting today. My daughter and son-in-law are taking a long walk. You might as well sit down and tell me what you need to know.”
Without delving into what had happened at Fort Rickman or in Harmony, Becca recounted their trip south and desire to learn more about Jacob and Ezekiel Yoder.
“They were good boys,” Sally said with a nod of her bleached hair. “They worked hard and obeyed their mother, although Mrs. Yoder was a hard taskmaster.”
“Mrs. Yoder?” Colby shifted forward in his chair.
“That’s right. Her husband left her when the boys were young. She ran the business and kept the boys on a tight schedule. They were helping her at an early age and worked far harder than I thought was acceptable.”
Sally shrugged her slender shoulders. “In those days, we didn’t have the Department of Children and Family Services to call.”
“Was abuse involved?” Becca asked.
“Not overt. But the boys were never allowed to play with the other children. They attended public school, but she frequently kept them home from school to help out, especially in the winter snowbird season.”
“Didn’t the school realize what was happening?”
“I called the principal a few times. She said if the boys were not physically hurt there was nothing she could do.”
“What type of business did Mrs. Yoder have?”
“A bakery and coffee shop. Not too large, but she had a lot of return customers. She kept her staff at a minimum, and as the boys grew they took on more of the workload.”
“Did you know the boys?”
“Only from the bakery. Ezekiel was younger than Jacob. Both of them left town years ago.”
“And Mrs. Yoder?” Becca asked.
“That’s the sad part. She opened the bakery each morning at five. The boys would follow a short while later after they did their chores at home.”
