Amish Protector

by Marta Perry

  In any event, she had to hide what she felt and put a good face on it. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been keeping you away from the store when you need to be there.” She rose as well, feeling as if he’d taken away her source of support. She didn’t need support, she reminded herself.

  Noah shook his head. “My brother’s there again today. Caleb. He’s turning into a pretty good salesman.” His expression grew lighter at the thought.

  “I hope that means that sales are better,” she ventured, not sure he wanted to talk about it.

  He hesitated, but then gave a nod. “Yah, they were yesterday anyway. If they hold up again today...well, I’ll feel pretty sure that my Amish customers are back, for now anyway.”

  She expected him to say something about her father, either grudging acceptance or edgy annoyance, but he didn’t do either.

  “We’ll do okay, I think, even though the Englisch... Well, seems like they’re happier with the chain store. I’m trying to meet their prices, but it’s not easy.”

  She wanted to say something encouraging, but she couldn’t find anything. “I guess not. At least you found out what Caleb really wants, thanks to all this.”

  “Yah.” His face lightened. “Funny. Working together in the store, I’ve gotten to know my little bruder a lot better. I think he’s a lot more grown-up than I thought he was. Yesterday he said—”

  He stopped. All of a sudden, it was as if a door had slammed in her face. Why? What was suddenly wrong that he couldn’t finish what he was saying?

  “You can say it, whatever it is. I’m not a blabbermaul.”

  Noah looked startled, and then his face warmed. “Right. I know.” He hesitated, but this time he seemed to look for the right words. “Caleb reminded me of a time when Daad was driving us in the buggy. Daad had been drinking, and he scraped a car, so the police came.”

  He paused again. Maybe he needed time to bring out words that had to be painful.

  “Daad wanted me to say I’d been driving. He said... He said it was my duty as his son.” His lips twisted. “I wouldn’t.”

  “You couldn’t.” The pain she sensed in him seemed to cut into her own heart. To have his father try to put the blame on him—she couldn’t begin to imagine how that must have hurt. She wanted so much to touch him, comfort him, but knew he wouldn’t welcome it.

  “No. I couldn’t. I didn’t even think Caleb would remember it. Or if he did, he’d blame me. But he said that I taught him something that day.” He blinked rapidly as if to deny a tear. “Well, it’s foolish, maybe, to make something of it.”

  “Not foolish.” No, it wasn’t foolish, because she could see how it still pained him today. Now she did touch his arm, fleetingly, withdrawing her hand before he could pull away. “You taught Caleb to be honest, no matter what. I’d like to think I’ve had that kind of influence on one of my little bruders. I’m glad he told you.”

  Noah nodded, not looking at her. “Yah. I am, too.” He straightened. “I’d best get back to him before he decides to have a sale or put up a new sign.”

  “Enthusiastic, is he?” She forced a smile, shoving away the instinct that made her want to weep for Noah’s lost childhood.

  “He’d be running the store himself if he had his way.” Noah said the words lightly as he started toward the stairs. Then he looked at her, frowning a little. “Mind you be careful if you’re out.”

  “I will.”

  He moved quickly down the stairs.

  * * *

  NOAH STOOD AT the front window, watching the vehicle carrying Joanna to the hospital speed off up the street. All very well for Jamison to tell him to keep an eye on her. He couldn’t very well do so when she was off again, trying to help—not Jamison, he supposed, but this unknown relative of hers. She seemed to be slipping into the world that belonged to Meredith Bristow and even further out of his reach.

  Did her parents know the results of the DNA test? He could understand her wanting to hide that to protect them, but either way, they’d be hurt.

  It was foolish to stand here staring at the street. He had work to do. Just as he thought that, he saw Floyd, toolbox in hand, pulling the door open. The handyman came straight toward him.

  “Floyd. It’s good to see you. How’s the work going?”

  “Fine, just fine.” He grinned at the sight of Caleb busy with a customer. “I see you’ve got the boy working. Replacing me with free labor, right?”

  “He just costs me a couple of cans of soda a day, but he doesn’t know as much as you.” He clapped the older man on the back. “You staying busy? Getting enough work?”

  “Busy? I’ll tell the world I’m busy. I didn’t know there were so many people who didn’t know one end of a hammer from the other.”

  “That’s good, right? That means they need you.”

  “Guess I can’t complain. As a matter of fact, that’s one reason I came in today. I wanted to thank you. Never had so much fun working before you pushed me into giving the handyman business a try.”

  “You mean you like having all the ladies in town asking for your help.” He knew as well as anyone that Floyd’s wife, Betsy, was the only woman in the world for him, but he liked being fussed over.

  Sure enough, Floyd flushed, a little shamefaced. “I keep telling Betsy she better appreciate me. But what can I do? Nobody makes a mixed berry pie like she does.” He sobered. “Anyway, thanks for getting me started. I owe you.”

  “Not me,” Noah said as Joanna’s face filled his thoughts. “I told you it was Joanna’s idea to start with. And you know Joanna—she’s so determined you just might as well do what she wants to begin with.”

  “That’s Joanna, all right.” Floyd gave him a sidelong glance. “A woman in a million. Just like my Betsy.”

  He’d best change the subject before he was the one blushing. Floyd had already guessed something was going on, and the last thing he wanted was to fuel any rumors about him and Joanna.

  “Consider me thanked anyway. Can I do something for you today?”

  “Just you look at this.” Floyd reached into his toolbox and pulled out a set of shelf brackets. Broken cabinet latches.

  Noah turned them over in his hands, frowning. “You didn’t get these from me, did you?”

  “I did not. I didn’t buy them at all. See, I’m putting up some shelves for a young couple just moved into a house on Elm Street.” He indicated the direction with a jerk of his head. “This young guy had these out when I got there—wanted me to use them, saying how he got such a good buy on them. I picked the thing up and it fell apart in my hand. I said to him, ‘You put junk like this on those new shelves, you’ll find them collapsing on the floor as soon as you put something on them. I can’t work with junk.’”

  Noah had to smile at Floyd’s indignation. “So were you out of a job?”

  “Not a chance. He was a nice kid, smart enough to know when he’d made a mistake. Told me to get what I wanted and he’d pay for them. I told him I was going straight to Troyer’s Hardware.” He nodded his head sharply a couple of times.

  “Denke, Floyd.” Not that it meant that much business, but he was touched by the older man’s loyalty. “I appreciate it.” He waved toward the appropriate rack. “Let’s go pick some out.”

  It didn’t take long to find what Floyd needed, and after a little more talk and some teasing of Caleb, Floyd was on his way. Noah found himself smiling. Ridiculous to feel so elated about such a little thing, he guessed, but he did.

  Maybe Floyd’s visit had been a good sign, because the store stayed busy throughout the afternoon. Even Caleb didn’t have time to go for a can of soda.

  Eventually, the last customer left, and with a glance at the clock, Caleb flipped the lock and turned the sign to Closed.

  “Pretty good day today, ain’t so?” Caleb was looking at him for reassurance, and for once he could
give it with a clear conscience.

  “Sure looks like it.” He opened the cash drawer.

  “Maybe we’ve turned the corner.” Caleb’s tone was optimistic.

  Noah reminded himself that Caleb was always optimistic. He seemed to have been born with a smile on his face, and nothing got him down for long.

  “Maybe so.” He smiled at the boy. “You put in a gut day’s work.”

  Caleb grinned, blue eyes sparkling. “Once I figured out that sometimes what customers need isn’t what they think they want, I did a better job.”

  “Right. Just be sure you know what the answer is to their problem before you recommend something. And don’t ever try to sell them more than they need.”

  “I’m learning, right?” For once Caleb looked uncertain, and again Noah’s heart was touched.

  “I told you. You’re doing fine. Now, why don’t you sweep up while I tally the receipts?”

  “Right.” Caleb went off to the back and returned in a moment with the broom and dustpan. But instead of sweeping, he lingered, looking over Noah’s shoulder while he counted bills.

  Finally losing count, Noah turned to him in exasperation. “You forget how to use the broom?”

  “No.” He made a token gesture with the broom, frowning. He looked up as if to speak and then looked down again.

  Noah put down the stack of ones. “What’s up? You have a problem with a customer?”

  “Not, well, not exactly.”

  “What, exactly?” Usually the boy talked up a storm, but he was tongue-tied right now.

  “Well...you know Thomas Booker?”

  “Yah, I do. Did he give you grief about something?” Thomas could have a sharp tongue, but he had nothing on his wife, Ella.

  “He kept asking me things.”

  Clearly, whatever it was, the questions had upset Caleb.

  “What kind of things?” Was something about Daad coming up after all this time to plague them?

  “About Joanna.” He looked relieved to have the words out, but relief was the last thing Noah felt.

  “What about Joanna?” The words were tart enough to have come from Joanna’s aunt Jessie.

  “He... Well, he was kind of hinting around. Like did I know why she kept going up to the hospital, and why were the police here so much. And did we know about her being adopted. That kind of thing.”

  And that kind of thing was probably just what Joanna’s parents had been fearing...talk going around the community and questions about the bishop’s family. There had been a time when he’d have been glad to learn of the bishop having problems, but that time was long gone.

  Noah’s fists knotted at the thought of Thomas questioning Caleb that way. He’d been smart enough not to try it on Noah, so he’d figured Caleb would be easier.

  “What did you tell him?” He reminded himself to be patient with his young brother. If he’d let something slip...

  “I played dumb, that’s what I did.” Caleb was indignant. “You think I’d go gossiping about Joanna to the likes of him? Anything I said would be around the county in a day with that wife of his—she’s the biggest blabbermaul I know.”

  “Gut.” He tried to manage a smile but could only think how hurt Joanna would be if she knew. “You did the right thing. Anybody else asks you questions about Joanna, you send them to me.”

  Caleb’s grin flashed. “Will do.”

  Noah clapped him on the shoulder. “Gut. Now, get on with the sweeping so I can finish.”

  But when his brother had moved off, wielding the broom energetically if not accurately, he didn’t immediately go back to the till.

  That sort of talk was the worst thing for Joanna, as well as for her family. If Thomas had dared to say anything to him...

  Noah looked down to see his hands clenched so tightly the fingers were white. He wanted to strike something, even if it was just the countertop.

  He didn’t, but he felt the anger surging through him and faced the hard realization. He’d begun, he realized now, to think he might actually be like other normal men instead of like his father. He’d let himself hope that he might love someone and have a happy life.

  That was a stupid hope. He couldn’t deny what was in his blood, and he had to stop fooling himself about it before he hurt someone. No, not just someone. Joanna.

  * * *

  THE AUXILIARY POLICE officer dropped Joanna at the hospital door that was closest to the elevator. “Now, remember, don’t try to go home by yourself. Just call the station when you’re ready. Someone will come to get you. Okay?”

  Like most of the auxiliary officers, this one was probably in his sixties and looked as soft as a pillow. But he was willing and concerned about her, and she didn’t doubt he’d do his best.

  “Thank you. I won’t forget.” She closed the door and walked quickly along the short stretch of sidewalk into the hospital.

  The surroundings had grown so familiar that she hardly looked around before stepping into the elevator. She pressed the button, the door started to close and a man she didn’t recognize slipped in.

  “Thanks.” He nodded to her as if she’d been responsible for his making the elevator.

  She gave a slight nod, turning back toward the array of buttons. There was no reason to be nervous—he was a perfectly normal young Englischer, nicely dressed, probably going to visit a friend or relative.

  But she could feel him studying her, and vague apprehension crept along her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the buttons. Obviously, the red one would be the one to push if anything alarmed her.

  Her sensible side told her not to be so foolish, but she couldn’t help the relief that swept over her when the doors opened. She hurried off, only to find that he’d come off behind her. She could hear his footsteps closing the distance between them.

  Joanna was within sight of the door when he caught her arm. She spun, taking a breath to cry out, but in that instant he let go, backing away with his hands in the air.

  “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Honest.”

  He looked horrified, and she realized in the same moment that he was young, probably not much more than twenty, if that. Before she could say anything, he babbled on, obviously embarrassed.

  “I apologize, really. I didn’t mean anything. I just...”

  “Why are you following me?” She cut across his talk, having been too frightened to bother sounding polite.

  “I’m not. I’m going to see my cousin. It’s just...seeing you going the same direction, I thought maybe you were the woman who helped my cousin. The one the police chief told us about.”

  Joanna’s alarm fizzled away to nothing, leaving her as embarrassed as he probably was. “Your cousin... Is that Meredith Bristow?”

  “Yeah, right.” Relief flooded his boyish face, and she saw the resemblance in the shape of his face and the color of his eyes. “You’re the one who found her?”

  She nodded, ashamed of overreaction. “I’m Joanna Kohler.” She looked at him inquiringly.

  “I’m Owen Graham. Merry is... Well, my mother is her father’s cousin. So I guess that makes us...what? Second cousins? Something like that anyway.”

  Joanna started walking again, and he joined her.

  “My mom’s in there with her,” he said. “I went out looking for coffee, but I didn’t have any luck.”

  “It’s down on the first floor, in the pavilion.”

  “That’s what the nurse said, but I didn’t find it.” He made a face. “Hospitals give me the creeps. And I hated seeing Merry just lying there.”

  So her family called her Merry. It was a pretty nickname. Maybe she had lived up to it when things were normal.

  Joanna pushed open the door. “She was probably sleeping. She’ll seem more natural when she’s awake.”

  A m
iddle-aged woman was sitting where Joanna usually sat, patting Meredith’s hand with quick, repeated motions. She looked up, startled, but her face cleared when she saw her son.

  “Owen, where have you been? And who’s this?”

  “Sorry, Mom, but I couldn’t find the coffee. This is Joanna Kohler. She’s the one the police chief told us about. The one who found Merry and called the ambulance.”

  The woman bounced off the chair and scurried toward Joanna with her hands extended. “Oh, you sweet person. How can we thank you enough? We’ve just been so worried about Merry and then to find out she’s in the hospital...” Distress made her soft, round face crumple like a fading flower. She looked a bit like a flower, too, with silvery curls, rosy cheeks and a comfortable figure.

  Joanna wasn’t sure what to address first. “We were so glad to be able to help Meredith.” She glanced toward the bed. “Have you tried to wake her?”

  The woman—she supposed it would be Mrs. Graham—looked toward the bed, too, and lowered her voice. “I didn’t know if I should or if it might be the wrong thing. I wouldn’t want to make her worse. They told us she might not remember us.”

  “She might not, but maybe she will. She seemed to be remembering much more yesterday, but she gets frustrated, too.”

  “Of course, of course. We have to be careful not to push.” Mrs. Graham frowned at her son. “Remember that, Owen.”

  Owen rolled his eyes, looking like any teenager anywhere whose mother was embarrassing him.

  Joanna smiled, looking past them. “I see she’s already waking up. I thought she’d hear us talking.”

  Meredith moved, stretching, and then she opened her eyes. When she focused on Joanna’s face, she smiled.

  “Joanna. I’m glad to see you.” She reached for the bed control and raised herself to a sitting position. Then she saw the other two people in the room. Her forehead wrinkled, and she seemed puzzled. “I don’t know...”

  “Don’t you know us, Merry?” On the other side of the bed Mrs. Graham leaned forward, her face childlike in its disappointment.