Amish Protector

by Marta Perry

  He forced himself to draw back. Joanna needed care, and the man who’d hurt her... Rage against the person who’d done this started to build, taking control of him. Anger was poison. He tried to control it. He’d seen what it did to his father. What if it did that to him?

  He lifted Joanna carefully so that she could lean against the wall. He had to get away before he succumbed to his feelings.

  “Will you be all right there for a minute? I’ll come right back.”

  Waiting only for her nod, he plunged through the kitchen and to the stairs that led down to the shop.

  The door stood open—Joanna’s attacker must have gone out this way. Noah bolted down and through the shop to the front entrance. It stood ajar, moving a little as if someone had just gone through, but by the time he reached the sidewalk there was no one in sight.

  If he ran, Noah might spot him, but which way? Realizing the futility of dashing off in the wrong direction, he slammed his clenched fist into the door frame. Even that didn’t dispel his anger, but the pain distracted him enough to make him step back inside.

  Joanna called out from upstairs. He started up and realized he should call for help first.

  “I’ll be right there. Let me call the police first.”

  “No!” Her voice was loud enough, frightened enough, to send him running back to her, his heart racing.

  “What is it?” He knelt beside her. “Do you need an ambulance? Tell me.”

  She shook her head slightly. “Just help me to the sofa and get the lights on.” She reached out for him to help her up.

  Afraid to argue, he slipped his arms around her and lifted her. “I can walk...” she murmured, her face against the curve of his neck.

  “You’re not going to.” He carried her carefully into the sitting room and put her down on the sofa before going to the lamp on the table. “We have to call the police. Please don’t argue.”

  “I won’t argue, but you have to wait a minute.” She caught his hand and drew him onto the sofa next to her.

  With the light on, he could study her face. There was a slight red mark on her temple, and she held herself as if favoring her left arm.

  “You’re hurt. If your arm is broken...”

  “It’s not. It’s my shoulder.” She frowned as if trying to see what happened clearly. “He...whoever...must have tried to hit the back of my head. I think I moved, and the blow landed on my shoulder.” She explored lightly with her right hand and winced a little.

  “A doctor—”

  “An ice pack,” she said firmly, and he knew he was beaten.

  “All right, I’ll get you an ice pack. But I must call the police. He’s getting away.” Even as he said it, he knew a few minutes wouldn’t make a difference. The man was long gone.

  “Yah, I know, but don’t call the station. Jamison’s number is by the phone. Call him. Tell him to come in quietly by the back. The last thing either of us needs is a lot of flashing lights and sirens in front of our businesses again.”

  She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, looking as if she’d said all she could at the moment.

  Noah had to admit she was right. This had to be part and parcel of what had gone on since Meredith had come into their lives. The less they gave the neighbors to talk about, the better.

  “All right.” And if he mentally added the word bossy, she didn’t have to know. Any more than she could know that it was part of what he loved about her.

  Detouring through the kitchen, he found a blue ice pack in the freezer, wrapped a towel around it and brought it back to her, resisting the temptation to put it on her shoulder himself. Then he went downstairs to make the call.

  With Chief Jamison promising to be there in five minutes, he went back to Joanna. To keep himself from feeling—or, worse, saying—his love, he focused on the investigation. How was the break-in tonight involved with everything else that had happened? He couldn’t guess what the man had been after, unless he was looking for the little necklace. But what good was that to him? They already knew where it had come from.

  He stood for a moment, studying Joanna, recognizing the vulnerability as well as the strength in her face. “This can’t go on,” he said abruptly. “He must have been after the baby necklace, but why?”

  “If I had any idea what to do to resolve this, I would. But I don’t.”

  “Have you shown the necklace to Meredith yet? She surely knows something about it, or why would it be so important?”

  Her face set stubbornly. “I haven’t. I couldn’t take the chance of it upsetting her.”

  “I would think that she’d want to see it. If it means something to her, we might be further along. What else could have brought that man here tonight? He couldn’t have known when you’d be back or if Jessie would come first. He must have been searching for something. What could it be but the necklace?”

  She frowned at him, but then the defiance seeped slowly from her face. “I know. I’d already thought Meredith should see it, but I didn’t know if it was the right thing or not.”

  “Let Jamison decide...” he began when he realized that Joanna looked suddenly horrified. “What?”

  “You said he was looking for it... What if he already has it? What if he found it tonight?”

  “You’re not wearing it?”

  “I was afraid someone might see it if it slipped out.”

  She moved, wincing as she tried to stand. As he helped her up, he heard the car pulling into the yard in back.

  “You look and see. I’ll go down and let Jamison in.”

  When he was halfway down, he realized that he’d left the door open when he’d rushed in, so Jamison was already entering.

  “Is she all right?” he said, coming up the stairs at a trot.

  “A bruised shoulder, that’s all she’ll admit to.” He led the way back to the sitting room. Joanna greeted Jamison and then met Noah’s gaze, holding up a small tissue-wrapped object.

  “It’s still safe.”

  He nodded, not sure whether to be glad or sorry.

  Once Joanna had told her story, and Noah had added his unsuccessful pursuit of the man, Jamison growled, sounding like an angry bear.

  “Three times, and he’s gotten away clean each time. It’s like he’s invisible. And it has to be an outsider. Meredith doesn’t even know anyone here.”

  “It can’t be Emily or Owen,” Joanna said. “They had insisted on taking me to supper, and the man must have already been in the apartment when they dropped me off.”

  “Doesn’t clear them,” Jamison muttered. “They could have been keeping you out of here to give the guy access.”

  Frowning, Noah shook his head. “They wouldn’t have known Jessie was out. Where is she anyway?”

  “She went to supper with Anna Miller. Once they start talking, they forget what time it is. But Emily knew that. She was standing right there when Aunt Jessie said it.”

  “We can’t clear anyone, so let’s get at this another way. Why did he come anyway? What did he want here? What haven’t you told me?” Jamison leveled a frown at Joanna as he shot the questions.

  “There’s nothing, except for the necklace, and I already told you about that. But I can’t think why it’s that important.”

  “Right,” Jamison said. “I’ve gone over it myself. Maybe he was looking for something else that he’s afraid you might have. Like something Meredith gave you.”

  “But she didn’t give me anything. You know that.”

  Jamison leaned forward, his gaze intent on her. “Are you sure you can’t tell me who your birth mother was?”

  “I can’t.” Joanna sounded on the verge of tears, but she seemed to force them back. “I don’t know who she was, and neither do my parents. She turned me over to them and asked them to take good care of me. Which they have,” she added.


  “Well, we all know that.” Jamison sounded embarrassed. “We keep coming back to the necklace. You haven’t shown it to Meredith yet, have you?”

  “No.” She hesitated. “I’ve wondered if I should. Maybe it would mean something to her. But I was afraid of upsetting her.”

  Jamison considered. “It seems to me we’ll have to take that risk and show it to her. If she doesn’t remember, well, there’s nothing lost, but we have to know. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

  “I think I should warn my parents about it first.” Joanna’s face set in the stubborn expression he knew so well. “My mother kept it for me when it probably was tempting to get rid of it.”

  Apparently, Jamison recognized that she couldn’t be moved. He nodded. “There’s no time to waste.”

  Noah cut in. “I’ll take Joanna out to the farm first thing in the morning, and then we’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  He waited for objections to his inserting himself into the investigation, but none came. Joanna, looking tired, nodded.

  So he would take Joanna in the morning. And maybe he should tell her why, despite the feelings he’d clearly shown, he couldn’t possibly marry her, because if he didn’t tell her soon, he could lose his nerve and let them both in for sorrow.

  * * *

  AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT, including the task of explaining what happened to Aunt Jessie when she came in, Joanna had to struggle to get moving early the next morning. She straightened the dress Aunt Jessie had had to help her slip on over her painful shoulder. Then she picked up the first of the straight pins that secured it in the front. Long practice had made it easy to put them in place without letting them show, giving her time to try to stop her stomach from churning at the thought of seeing Noah this morning.

  Who wouldn’t be upset? He had held her as if he’d never let her go. He comforted her and kissed her. And then he’d drawn back and she’d seen the fear and regret in his face.

  If Noah really regretted those kisses, she would hide her feelings and put on a brave front. But she didn’t—couldn’t—believe it. He loved her. She wasn’t imagining it, but that didn’t mean he’d overcome his feeling that this wasn’t right.

  For an instant she was in his arms again, feeling his lips warm and urgent on hers. She’d been so sure that his heart was in that kiss, that it meant forever. What if it couldn’t be?

  Even so, she couldn’t forget. She could live with it, but she’d never forget. And Noah wouldn’t know how she longed for the future that for a moment had seemed so sure.

  Patting her hair to be sure her kapp was in place, Joanna went to the kitchen, planning to wait until she heard the sound of the buggy before she went down.

  “You’ll have some toast, at least,” Aunt Jessie said, her tone as gentle as Joanna had ever heard it.

  “Not now,” she said, knowing she’d never choke it down. “I’ll just get some juice.”

  “I’ll get it. You sit.” Her aunt put a glass of apple juice in front of her. “How is your shoulder?”

  “Not too bad,” she lied.

  Jessie’s expression made it all too clear that she didn’t believe her. She touched Joanna lightly on the cheek. “Don’t worry so much about your mamm. She’ll understand why you have to do this.” She hesitated. “Just remember that she’s your mother. Your real mother.”

  “I know. I don’t want to hurt them.” That was the one thing she was sure of in the midst of confusion.

  The sound of the buggy gave her a good reason not to say anything else. She drained the juice and went out, moving carefully so as not to jar her shoulder.

  Noah had pulled the buggy up next to the stoop, making it easier for Joanna to climb in. She did it quickly, knowing it was going to hurt but not wanting him to come and help her. She settled down, finding she could stop holding her breath.

  Noah nodded, not speaking, and clicked to the horse. Good, that made it easier for her not to talk. Instead, she could stare, unseeing, at the street as they moved through traffic. By the time they’d reached the edge of town, she tried to relax, easing her bruised shoulder against the inevitable jolts. She didn’t want to talk, not unless Noah could say the words she longed for. But Noah didn’t seem to feel that way. “Joanna.”

  “Yah?” She carefully didn’t look at him, afraid of what he might see in her eyes.

  “There’s something I must say, even if you don’t want to talk.” His voice was low but firm, and she could hear in his tone just what she’d feared. And she didn’t want him to say it, not when she had such a precarious grip on her feelings.

  “You don’t need to say anything.” He wouldn’t say what she wanted to hear—she knew that now. So silence was better.

  “I have to,” he said doggedly. “I told you once what it was like to grow up with a father who drank. I didn’t tell you everything. I didn’t talk about my daad’s temper, or the anger he turned on everyone when he was drinking. Or how he’d strike out physically at anyone who was in his way.”

  Her breath caught. She’d suspected, looking beneath what he’d said, but that wasn’t like being sure.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, but he didn’t seem to hear.

  Noah stared at the road ahead. Whether he saw it or not, she couldn’t tell.

  “I could take it for myself. But not when he hit my mother.” He shot a glance at her. “You understand? He hit her. He hurt her. I saw the love in her eyes turn to fear. How can anyone stand to fear the person they love most?”

  Pain for him, for the child he’d been, ricocheted through her. “I’m sorry, Noah. So sorry. But it’s over now. It doesn’t mean you can never be happy.” Or love, she added silently.

  “You don’t understand.” He bit out the words. “That anger—that wanting to hit out—that’s in me, too. I’ve felt it there. I felt it last night, when I chased the man who’d assaulted you. It made me afraid of what I might have done if I’d caught him.”

  “Noah...feeling it doesn’t mean that you’d have done it. Still less that you’d have turned that anger on someone innocent.”

  “I can’t risk it.”

  He said it with a frightening finality. He really did believe that about himself.

  “I can try to live at peace with all, but I can’t risk hurting you. Once this is over, I’ll do my best to stay away from you. That’s all I can do.” His lips twisted as he struggled for control. “I’m sorry.”

  Joanna felt as if she were about to burst with all the things she wanted to say—all the words that would convince him that he was wrong, that he was foolish to think he had to be like his father.

  But they were already turning into the lane to the farmhouse. She’d have to save it all up, but she’d have her say, even if she couldn’t convince him. She felt as if she were two different people—one struggling to keep from hurting her parents while the other struggled to convince Noah that he’d never hurt her. How did anyone cope with that?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WHEN NOAH PULLED to a stop at the back porch, Joanna got down quickly, disregarding the pain it cost her. It wasn’t that she was eager to get into the conversation with her parents, but for probably the first time, she really needed to get away from Noah. She didn’t know what to say to him just now, and anything she did say might be something she’d regret.

  Daad was already coming from the barn, no doubt having heard them pull in. He nodded to Noah, and then came to put his hand lightly on Joanna’s good shoulder. With a sudden need for more contact, she hugged him, holding on for a moment, her throat tight.

  Then she let go and looked up into his face, wondering how many of the lines in it she was to blame for. “I need to talk to you and Mammi for a minute.”

  “Komm,” he said. “There’s coffee hot and shoofly pie ready.” He glanced back toward Noah. “Will you come in, Noah?”

 
“Not just now,” Noah said, relieving her of the responsibility of saying anything. “Maybe later.”

  The words had probably been a warning to Daad that something serious was coming. But he wouldn’t expect anything else, she guessed, given the tangle they’d all been enmeshed in since Meredith had appeared on her stairs.

  Was the end in sight? She hoped desperately that she was doing right in revealing secrets that had been kept so long, but she couldn’t see any other way forward.

  She moved into the kitchen, her hand in Daad’s, and Mammi turned from the stove to greet her, coffeepot in hand. They’d talk here, she knew. The kitchen table had always been the right place for serious as well as lighthearted conversations.

  “Joanna.” Mammi said her name, seemed to try to say something more and then just hugged her. Joanna held her, praying to find the way to keep from hurting her.

  “Komm, sit. You have something to tell us, ain’t so?”

  Joanna nodded in answer but ushered her mother to a chair first and then poured the coffee. She suspected she’d need it, even if they didn’t.

  She automatically sat in the chair that had been hers ever since her first brother was born. She’d been moved from the seat next to Mammi to the seat next to Daad, and whichever one was the baby was put in the seat next to Mammi. From this vantage point she’d watched her brothers grow and change, and it had been from this seat that she’d first broached the idea of going into business with Aunt Jessie.

  She’d thought that would be difficult. It had been nothing compared with what she had to bring up now.

  A sip of the hot, strong brew seemed to ease the constriction in her throat, and she managed a smile. “I wanted to be sure you knew this as soon as possible. I... Since the DNA tests confirmed that I’m related to Meredith, Chief Jamison knows it.” She saw Daad’s hand tighten on the table, and she hurried on. “He’s not interested in how it came to be, honestly. I don’t think we need to worry about that with him.”