by Debby Giusti
He opened his briefcase and removed a stack of papers. “I’m going to untie your hands, but if you try anything, I won’t let Andrew go.”
“Please,” she said, “he is a little boy. Do not hurt him.”
Henry pulled the kitchen table closer to Ruthie and untied her hands. She rubbed her wrists, feeling the circulation return.
He shoved a pen into her right hand and pointed to a line on the first paper.
“Sign your name here. The land goes to me because of your father’s will. He placed the will in a safe deposit box at one of the banks. In case he was lying, I’ll still have these signed forms deeding the farm to me.”
“I do not know if my hand will work.”
“Don’t play games with me.”
She took the pen and signed her name.
He turned to another page. “Sign here.”
He pointed to another page, and another.
She dutifully signed on each line.
“Now let me know where you have taken Andrew. If anything has happened to him—”
She could not finish her sentence. The thought of her son being hurt cut into her heart.
Her uncle retied her hands behind her back and returned the signed papers to his briefcase.
“You’re a fool, Ruthie, just like Ben said.”
“You knew my husband?”
“What a waste of a man. He wasn’t even a good poker player. He regretted marrying you, but he needed someplace to live. His family had kicked him out. You were an easy mark for him.”
She did not care what he said about Ben and the way he had felt about her. There had been no love between them, though she had tried to be a dutiful wife. Somehow she had thought he had loved her in the beginning, though everything had changed too quickly.
“Tell me about Andrew,” she pleaded.
The guy laughed. “Again, you’re such a fool and so very gullible. I don’t have Andrew. I tried to grab Simon in the hospital, but the nurses were always around so I followed you when you left town.”
Relief swept over her and tears burned her eyes. Andrew must still be with Aunt Mattie, safe and protected.
“You tricked me,” she said, “into signing the papers.”
“I have your signature and that’s all I need. Everyone will be upset about your passing.”
“What?”
He glanced out the window. “The river is rising. The weather forecast is for continual rain for the next twelve hours. The water will enter the house soon.”
Terror filled her, but she would not let him fool her again. She thought back to the flood when she was a girl. The water had come to the top of the kitchen counter. She glanced at that counter now, knowing her head would remain above water. Someone would eventually come to look for her. How long she could survive, she did not know, but she would not drown.
She wanted to rail against the man, yet she needed to placate him and play into his pity.
“Let me go. I will not say anything about you. I will not tell anyone that you forced me to sign the papers.”
“Once again you are proving your foolishness. You would get that boyfriend of yours and run straight to the sheriff.”
“I would not. I will talk Noah into signing over his property to you.”
“That would be an added plus, but I realized I don’t need his land. By shoring up the river on your side, the water will naturally form its own channel down the northern valley. I have gravel ready and sand to dam up the southern shore.”
“The river is racing too quickly. You will never succeed, not when the water is this high.”
“I worked on a dam in Chattanooga and know how to make it work.”
She glanced at the cabinet. As soon as her uncle left, she would scoot the chair back again and get another knife from the drawer. This time she would be successful and cut through the rope.
“What are you thinking?” He stepped closer and saw the drawer. He pulled it open, then dumped the knives onto the counter and pushed them back toward the wall, too far for her to reach with her hands tied behind her back.
“And just in case you could get to the knives, I’ll make sure you don’t last long enough to try to free yourself.”
Fear raced along her spine.
He grabbed the back of the chair and flipped it on its side.
Her head hit the floor, and she cried out in pain.
“I’ll come back to remove the ropes after you’re dead so no one will suspect foul play.”
“Someone will see the marks on my wrists. They will know my death was not accidental. They will find you, Henry, and try you for murder.”
He grabbed the briefcase and turned to gaze at her. “Your body will be bloated by the time they discover you, Ruthie. No one will look for marks on your wrists. Besides, I’m already a murderer.”
“Please,” she said.
He laughed, then hurried outside, slamming the door behind him.
Thunder rumbled overhead and another downpour of rain rattled against the tin roof.
Ruthie did not have long before the water would enter the house. She could raise her head a few inches off the floor, but once the water rose that high, she would not survive.
At least Andrew and Simon were safe. She loved them dearly. And Noah? She loved him, as well.
* * *
Noah turned off the mountain road and headed to Mattie’s house. His heart was in his throat knowing something was wrong. Ruthie wouldn’t have stayed away from the hospital this long no matter how bad the storm was.
The rain was blinding. Lightning zigzagged across the sky as if the storm was waging war against the earth.
He kept his eyes peeled as he drove, looking for signs that the buggy might have gone off the road. He crossed over a culvert that was swollen with rainwater.
His gut tightened—he feared Ruthie could have been caught in the rapid current.
The drive along the back road seemed to take forever. Every time he increased his speed, the vehicle would hydroplane. The pickup skidded twice. He eased up on the accelerator until he couldn’t stand it any longer and then increased his speed again. He needed to find Ruthie as soon as possible and ensure she was all right.
He came around the final curve in the road and saw her aunt’s house in the distance. After turning into the drive, he slammed on the brakes, leaped out of the truck and raced to the porch.
Aunt Mattie’s eyes were wide when she opened the door. “Has something happened to Simon?”
Noah shook his head. “He’s improving. I need to talk to Ruthie.”
“Ruthie is not here. I thought she was at the hospital with you.”
Noah’s chest compressed and he exhaled a lungful of air. “She didn’t stop here to check on Andrew?”
The boy ran to the door. “Noah, where’s Mamm? And how is Simon?”
“Your brother is better.” He didn’t want to worry Andrew, but he needed to speak truthfully to Mattie.
She understood his hesitation. “Andrew, go get the cake I cut today. Noah can take it to the hospital for your brother and mother.”
Once the boy raced into the kitchen, Mattie grabbed Noah’s hand. “How long ago did Ruthie leave the hospital?”
“Long enough for her to have gotten here, had cake and returned.” He raked his hand through his hair and turned to glance at the dark sky and torrential rain. “Where is she, Mattie?”
“I do not know.”
Noah couldn’t wait any longer. He raced to his truck and guided it back onto the road. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he saw Andrew on the porch holding a tin that, no doubt, held the cake. Much as he hated to disappoint the young boy, Noah had no time to waste. Ruthie was in danger. Had the man found her, and if so, where would he take her? Law enforcement was looking for him in town. The only plac
e left was the mountain.
He reached for his cell and called the sheriff’s department. The phone went to voice mail. With the bad weather, there was no telling where the deputies were needed. He envisioned accidents on the main road, perhaps flooding in the southern valley, downed power lines and people caught in the storm.
“This is Noah Schlabach. Ruthie Eicher is missing. I fear the man who attacked her has kidnapped her. I don’t have any information, but do whatever you can to find her. I’m heading up the mountain to her property if the river hasn’t already overflowed its banks. I’ll try to keep you posted, but cell reception isn’t good and the storm doesn’t help.”
He disconnected and threw the phone onto the console.
Needing an update on the rising river, he flipped on the radio. Static buzzed, followed by the announcer’s voice.
“The main mountain road is flooded. Take the northern route if you’re heading up Amish Mountain.”
Noah’s heart sank. The detour would take more time. Time he didn’t have. Yet his instincts screamed that he had to get to Ruthie’s farm.
He angled across one of the side roads and crossed the lower bridge to the northern shore that would lead to his father’s property. He hoped the bridge connecting his farm to Ruthie’s would still be standing.
Water covered the road, but he continued to drive at a rapid speed. Noah didn’t care what happened to him, but he had to find Ruthie. Her life was in danger—he knew that for sure.
He had to find her before the terrible man who had attacked her turned on her again. This time the man on the mountain wouldn’t be satisfied with striking Ruthie and kicking her. This time he would kill her.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ruthie glanced at the woodstove and spotted the poker. Would the metal tip be sharp enough to cut through the rope?
She jerked back on the chair and inched her way toward the stove. Her cheek rubbed against the floor. She fisted her hands to counter the pain and kept moving the chair little by little. Her progress was slow, but anything was better than doing nothing. If there was hope, she would continue to fight for her life.
Water flowed under the front door and fanned out on the hardwood floors. A braided rug soaked up some of the moisture. A second surge of water flowed in, circled the rug and headed toward where she was lying. She pushed herself back again and again, nearing the stove as the water inched toward her. Another wave of water traveled across the main room and splashed against her arm.
Her heart nearly stopped.
She pushed again, then reached for the poker. It slipped from her hands and dropped to the floor behind her, knocking against her head.
As much as she wanted to cry, she would not sacrifice her precious energy when she was fighting for her life.
Again, she scooted the chair and repositioned her hands closer to the metal rod.
Another surge of water flowed around her ear.
She stretched her arms behind her and flailed her fingers, searching for the poker.
Her hands touched something hard and circular. She grabbed the metal rod, overcome with relief. Slowly she inched her fingers along the poker until she felt the blunt tip.
Blunt?
She shoved the rod against the rope, holding her bound hands, but without a sharp end, her efforts were for naught.
She closed her eyes. Please, Gott, save me.
When she opened her eyes, another wave of water streamed across the floor and splashed against her cheek. In a short time, the water would rise higher and cover her nose and her mouth.
Ruthie could not think of that now. She had to get free. But how?
* * *
Amish Mountain was barely visible with the low cloud cover and blinding rain. Noah gripped the wheel with white knuckles and forced his truck up the hill. The rain-soaked earth couldn’t absorb any more moisture, so water covered the road.
Mudslides could be a problem. Please, Gott, don’t let that happen. I have enough worries trying to find Ruthie.
The storm raged outside the truck and sounded like a monster attacking the earth.
Lightning brightened the sky, creating an eerie hue that flashed on and off.
The engine sputtered going around a curve. He eased his foot off the gas pedal. “Come on. Don’t give out on me now.”
Nearing the final turn, he held his breath and rounded the bend. His father’s farmhouse and the bridge were still standing. In spite of the raging river, both structures remained intact. He spied a car parked on the distant shore.
“Stay with me, Lord,” he prayed as he coaxed his truck over the rickety bridge that swayed in the storm. Water washed over the underpinnings and sloshed against the wheels of his pickup.
“Don’t let the engine stall,” he said aloud.
Once across the river, he parked on higher ground, then leaped from his truck. Thunder crashed overhead and rain pummeled him. For half a heartbeat, the storm ebbed before the next clap of thunder rumbled across the sky. In that momentary lull, Noah heard another sound—the sound of a loud engine.
He followed the noise around the back of the barn and down to the river. The rapid current was flowing at breakneck speed and the water had flooded over the riverbank.
The rain eased for a moment, and he saw a bulldozer pushing soil and debris into the water, forming a man-made dam. A dump truck sat parked nearby. Gravel sprayed across the side of the riverbed.
A guy dressed in black operated the bulldozer. The angry current tried to tear apart his work, but he backed up again and shoved an even larger mix of gravel and soil into the river.
Surely the man wasn’t in his right mind to be operating heavy equipment at the edge of a flooding river, and no telling how he had gotten the bulldozer and dump truck up the mountain. Noah glanced around to ensure he didn’t have an accomplice or two hiding in the bushes.
From what Noah could tell, the man was working alone, and he was making progress. Water spilled over the opposite bank of the river and washed down the mountain, along the northern valley Noah and Ruthie had seen when they’d toured Castle Homes.
Ruthie had been right. The guy wanted her land so he could detour the water and form a new river that would feed into Castle’s lake.
Noah raced forward. The man backed up the bulldozer, nearly running over Noah.
He grabbed the man’s arm and yanked him from the seat. The guy swung his fist and hit Noah in the chin.
Ignoring the pain, he grabbed the man’s arm again.
“Where is she?” Noah screamed above the roar of the storm. “What did you do with Ruthie?”
“Get outta my way. This is my land now.”
Noah jabbed his fists into the guy’s stomach. The man doubled over, coughing and gasping for air.
“Where is she?” Noah grabbed his shoulders and held him up. “Where’s Ruthie?”
“I told you this land is mine. You’re trespassing.”
The guy struggled to free himself. Noah wrapped his hands around his chest and half dragged, half pushed him toward the barn. Using electrical tape from the tool rack, he bound his hands and feet, then dragged him to his pickup and hoisted him into the bed of the truck.
The guy groaned.
Noah grabbed his shirt and leaned into his face. “You’ve got one more chance. Where is she?”
The guy nervously flicked his gaze toward the Plank house.
“She’s in there?” Noah shoved him aside and raced to the house. The river had already flooded over the porch.
“Ruthie?” Noah pushed open the door. All he could see was the rising water.
He called her name again. Movement by the woodstove alerted him. An overturned chair.
His pulse raced. Ruthie was tied to the chair, with her nose and mouth underwater. At that instant, she raised up her head and grabbed a breath.
Heart in his throat, he ran to her, lifted her out of the water and righted the chair that still held her bound.
“Oh, Ruthie!” He found a knife on the nearby counter and cut through the ropes. All the while, she gasped for air, then coughed and sputtered.
“I tied up the guy who attacked you, but I didn’t think I would find you in time.” He looked into her eyes. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”
She rubbed her hands together and then patted her chest and coughed.
More water swept into the house.
“We need to get out of here now.” Noah lifted her into his arms and carried her across the room, through the water and out the door. The rain pelted them, but he had Ruthie and he wouldn’t let her go.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Ruthie collapsed onto the seat of Noah’s pickup. She was shaken to the core and kept thinking of what could have happened if Noah had not saved her. Overcome with emotion, she dropped her head in her hands and started to cry.
He climbed behind the wheel and pulled her into his arms. She nestled closer as the tears fell.
“Shhh,” he soothed, rubbing her back and giving her time to regain her composure.
Warmed by his embrace and drawing strength from him, she eventually wiped her hands over her face. “You saved me, Noah. I am so grateful, but I am also wet and dirty.”
He smiled. “You’re beautiful and you’re alive, but we need to get out of here before the water rises any higher.”
He started the engine and turned onto the road heading up the mountain. “There’s a narrow roadway that weaves around the back of Amish Mountain. It will take us longer to get to town, but it’s far from the river. I’m driving directly to the hospital so the doctors can examine you. No telling what you were exposed to in the water.”
“I need to see the boys.”
“Andrew is fine. He’s with Mattie. Simon’s fever is down and he was feeling better when I left the hospital.”
“The man who tried to kill me was my uncle Henry. He said he had Andrew and would harm him if I did not turn over my land to him. I signed the papers he provided in order to save my son.”
