Hiding with the Amish

Another thrilling book in the Amish Protectors series

Englischer Sarah Miller escapes her captor by hiding in the buggy of an Amish carpenter. Joachim Burkholder is her only hope—and donning Plain clothing is the only way to keep safe and find her missing sister. But for Joachim, who’s just returning to the Amish, the forbidden Englischer is trouble. Trapping her kidnapper risks his life, but losing Sarah risks his heart.

DEBBY GIUSTI is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com, blog with her at seekerville.blogspot.com and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com, and email her at Debby@DebbyGiusti.com.

Also By Debby Giusti

Amish Protectors

Amish Refuge

Undercover Amish

Amish Rescue

Military Investigations

The Officer’s Secret

The Captain’s Mission

The Colonel’s Daughter

The General’s Secretary

The Soldier’s Sister

The Agent’s Secret Past

Stranded

Person of Interest

Plain Danger

Plain Truth

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Amish Rescue

Debby Giusti

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08267-9

AMISH RESCUE

© 2018 Deborah W. Giusti

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

She was trapped.

The basement was dank and smelled of mildew.

She’d been foolish to reenter the house, and now Joachim was upstairs with her former captor, giving her her only chance to escape.

Muffled voices came from the kitchen, followed by footfalls as the men exited the house.

Sarah started for the stairs...but stopped when a scratching sound came from the other side of the basement. Though she had little time to waste, she followed the sound to a padlocked door.

She tapped on the door. The scratching came again, and her heart stopped. Knowing she had to be careful, she put her mouth to the door and whispered, “Can you hear me?”

Silence.

She glanced out the window. Joachim couldn’t keep her captor occupied much longer. She had to get out now.

She gripped the handrail as a wave of vertigo swept over her. The walls started to cave in around her in a sweep of claustrophobia.

Then she heard it. Her captor’s footsteps nearing the basement door. She glanced up just as the doorknob turned.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Amish Rescue, Book 3 in my AMISH PROTECTORS series (Book 1, Amish Refuge and Book 2, Undercover Amish). An Englisch woman and an Amish handyman are an unlikely match, but when Joachim Burkholder rescues Sarah Miller from captivity, their lives are entwined forever. Yet memories from the past continue to hold them back until their love for each other can no longer be denied.

What struggles hold you back? Turn to the Lord. He wants to set you free.

I pray for my readers each day and would love to hear from you. Email me at debby@debbygiusti.com or write me c/o Love Inspired, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. Visit me at www.DebbyGiusti.com and at www.Facebook.com/debby.giusti.9.

As always, I thank God for bringing us together through this story.

Wishing you abundant blessings,

Debby

Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.

—John 8:12

This story is dedicated to children at risk. Please join me in praying for their protection and well-being so the forces of darkness will not prevail against them.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Sarah Miller’s heart pounded in sync with the footsteps that echoed up the stairway leading to the third story of the old antebellum home. Rats scurried in the attic as she crouched in the closet, pulled her knees to her chest and fought back tears that burned her eyes. The rats didn’t frighten her, but Victor Thomin did.

The shuffle of his feet on the landing signaled his approach. Keys rattled as he unlocked the door, sending another wave of panic to ricochet along her spine. The locks—all three of them—were to protect her from those who hoped to do her harm...or so Victor claimed.

“Sarah?”

Her lungs constricted at the sound of his voice. She gasped, struggled for air and wished she could be anywhere except in his mother’s house, where he said she was safe.

The door creaked open.

In her mind’s eye, she could see his pallid skin, deep-set eyes and shock of red hair as he glanced around the room.

“Where are you, Sarah?” Anger rose in his voice. “Are you hiding from me?”

He knew too much about her, about being left alone as a child, about the fire and the fear that continued to eat at her even though she should know better. Why had she told him so much in her drugged stupor? At least he no longer forced her to take the pills.

“You can’t hide from me, Sarah.” His voice made her tremble all the more.

The closet door flew open. She startled, gasped for air and wanted to run but was too frightened to move.

He grabbed her arm.

“Don’t hurt me.” She struggled to pull free. “It was the dream that made me hide.”

“Did you dream of being dragged from the car along with Miriam?” he asked, seemingly concerned. His hold eased. “Tell me about it, Sarah.”

His voice was syrupy sweet now. How could he be such a Jekyll and Hyde? Hateful one minute, feigning compassion the next.

If only she could remember all the details of the carjacking instead of hazy flashes that clouded her mind.

He leaned closer. “I told you about the bad men, Sarah, the men in your dreams. They captured your sister, but I’m working to get Miriam back before she’s transported so far away that you’ll never find her again.”

Sarah’s stomach roiled, sickened by the horrific thought of her sister gone forever. All her life, Sarah had relied on Miriam in times of need. But it wasn’t just Miriam she could count on. Even her eldest sister, Hannah, had offered support, though the two of them had not been as close.

“If Miriam can’t help me, then Hannah will.”

He clicked his tongue. “She left you years ago. Remember, you told me how you cried after Hannah was gone.”

Frustrated that he had manipulated even that information from her, she raised her chin in defiance. “I don’t believe what you said about Miriam. You’re wrong, Victor. She hasn’t been taken away. She’ll save me.”

Sarah eyed the open door to the hallway. Without thinking, she shoved past him and ran toward the stairs.

He chased after her, grabbed her arm and threw her down.

Her shoulder crashed against the floor. She groaned, then scrambled to her feet. He caught her hair and yanked so hard she thought her scalp would rip from her skull.

His other hand wrapped around her neck; all the while he pulled her hair until her face pointed to the ceiling, exposing her throat, where his fingers tightened, constricting her airway.

She clawed at his arm and kicked, her lungs on fire. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t scream.

“Don’t ever doubt me, Sarah.”

Hot tears seared her eyes. She tried to nod, but the movement caused more pain along her scalp.

Her ears rang, something gurgled in her throat, blackness swirled around her. Her knees gave way. In the split second before she would have slipped into unconsciousness, he released his hold. She fell to the floor, gasped for air and clawed her way back to reality.

“Are you going to obey me?” he demanded, standing over her, hands on his hips and eyes glaring.

She opened her mouth, hoping he hadn’t seriously damaged her vocal cords. A raspy “Yes” filtered out along with a whimper.

“That’s my good Sarah.”

She wasn’t good and she wasn’t his. She never would be. After her mother’s transgressions, she would never belong to any man, and especially not a crazed lunatic who had suddenly become abusive. His verbal threats had unnerved her and made her tremble, but until today, he had never touched her inappropriately or raised his hand in anger. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, all that had changed. She couldn’t fathom why. The only thing she did know was she needed to escape from Victor’s control.

Not that she’d had an opportunity to elude him in the past. He kept close watch on her during the day and made sure she was locked away each night.

With a huff, he yanked her to her feet. “Mother has been asking for you.”

“She wants Naomi.” From what Sarah could tell, Naomi was a local Amish woman who had taken care of Ms. Hazel before Victor had brought Sarah here. Ms. Hazel repeatedly asked for her.

“You’re taking Naomi’s place.”

Something in his tone chilled Sarah to the core. “Wh-what happened to Naomi?”

His gaze turned somber. “She disappeared, leaving Mother brokenhearted.”

More likely, Victor had arranged for Naomi’s disappearance.

He touched Sarah’s cheek. She turned her head away.

“Listen to me.” He grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. “A man is bringing your sister here in a day or two. I’ll pay George off. Then you and Miriam can take care of Mother together. If you want to see your sister, do as I say.”

His thin lips twisted into a hateful smirk. “But if you disobey me, if you try to escape, I’ll—”

He let the threat hang.

She uttered the first question that came to mind. “Then will I disappear like Naomi did?”

He bristled.

Evidently, she had struck a chord that rang a little too true.

“I’m not afraid of you, Victor.” Could he hear the tremble in her voice?

He leaned closer. “What if I turn off the power and use candles to light the house? Remember what you told me about the fire when you were a little girl?”

Her chest constricted. She struggled to pull air into her lungs.

“Do everything I say, Sarah, so you and Miriam can be together again, and so you can be safe. Do you understand?”

She cocked her head and furrowed her brow as if listening to a rustling sound coming from the unfinished portion of the attic.

He bristled. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you hear them?” she asked, feigning an unfounded confidence in her voice.

His face blanched.

“Rats, Victor. They’re in the attic.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The fear that flashed from his eyes proved what Sarah had assumed was true.

“Feed Mother her breakfast,” he ordered as he hurried out of the room.

From the open doorway, Sarah watched him race down the stairs to save himself from the rats. If she could only escape as easily.

Her momentary euphoria at having unsettled him was short-lived. Exhausted from lack of sleep and weeks of confinement, Sarah dropped her head in her hands. Hot tears burned her eyes. Would she ever be free again?

“Send someone to help me, Lord,” she pleaded, her heart breaking at the hopelessness of her plight. “I don’t want to die trapped in this old house.”

* * *

Joachim Burkholder guided the buggy along the mountain road. He had come home like the prodigal son. Except he had not squandered money or lived a life of debauchery. He was, instead, coming home to reconcile with his father. At least that was his plan.

Metanoia, some called it, a conversion or transformation, which was what Joachim had started to experience. Now, he needed to piece his broken life back together. He had tried to live Englisch. His heart remained Amish.

Jostling the reins, he encouraged the mare forward. Together he and Belle had traveled from farm to farm to farm. Joachim had worked odd jobs and saved his earnings until his yearning to come home had caused him to slowly retrace his steps.

Belle increased her speed as Joachim took in the rolling hills and lush valleys. How deeply he had missed the beauty of this land and the serenity of the Amish way of life.

Gott, he silently prayed, forgive my obstinate pride that forced me away from family and faith when I sought to place my will above Thy own.

The tranquil setting soothed Joachim’s troubled soul. He breathed in the loamy scent of Georgia clay mixed with fresh pine from the trees that dotted the side of the roadway. The cool morning air tugged at his black jacket and lulled him into a sense of peaceful calm that dissipated as soon at the buggy rounded the bend. At the bottom of the incline, a level plain stretched out in front of him. His gut tightened as he recognized this particular section of the road home he had inadvertently taken.

Was he trying to add more burden to his already guilt-laden shoulders? Why had he guided Belle to the very spot he had never wanted to pass through again? Some memories were too hard to bear.

He glanced back, debating whether to turn around, retrace his journey and take the longer route that would circumvent this place of pain.

Joachim squared his shoulders, refusing to cower. He needed to face the past to heal. He felt sure that was the advice the bishop would provide when and if he sought to return fully to his Amish faith.

As he turned his gaze to the intersection ahead, Joachim’s chest constricted. The morning sunlight filtered through the gray sky overhead, yet for a moment, he stepped back in time as the memory of that night assailed him. He heard the rhythmic clip-clop of horses’ hooves against the pavement and the creak of the two buggies as they strained along the ill-fated path.

In his mind’s eyes, he saw Eli turn and laugh at Joachim, who followed close behind in the second buggy. The ongoing competition between the two brothers had taken a tragic turn that night.

At eighteen, Joachim should have known better than to go along with the seemingly innocent challenge. He did not blame his brother. Nor had his datt blamed Eli. Instead, his father had blamed Joachim.

Once again, he remembered how Eli had egged him on, ignoring the roar of the oncoming vehicle and the headlights speeding too fast.

Joachim had raised his voice in warning. “A car approaches on the road.” But Eli had not heard and had not reacted.

The crash of metal and splintering wood echoed in Joachim’s memory, along with the horrific cry that had come from his own throat as he screamed his brother’s name.

Five years had passed, yet Joachim’s grief was still so raw. “Gott, forgive me,” he whispered as he hurried Belle through the intersection.

Perhaps coming home to the mountains had been a mistake. What had happened could not be undone. No matter how Joachim tried to reconcile the past.

He needed longer to decide if he was ready to contact his father. Work would help. Using his hands and carpentry skills to transform disrepair into integrity would allow him to see more clearly. If he could hole up somewhere, he might be able to stem the figurative bleeding of his wounded heart and come to terms with his future and the way he wanted to live his life.

Belle flicked her head.

“You want to go home, girl. I know. But I need more time.”

The turnoff to the old Thomin homestead appeared in the distance. The house had needed work five years ago. If Hazel Thomin were still alive, the elderly lady might hire Joachim to do odd jobs around the property while he tried to decide how he was going to piece his life together.

He pulled back on the reins to slow Belle’s pace, then nudged the mare onto the path that led to the grand home. The property had been in Mrs. Thomin’s family for generations, but what he saw made his spirits plummet even more. The house that had been regal in its day—some called it a mansion—now appeared wasted from neglect.

Joachim grimaced, noting the peeling paint and the sagging facade. The stately beauty had come under hard times and was in need of a steady hand that could restore her original beauty as well as her once-sturdy understructure.

He guided the buggy toward the front of the house and glanced up to see a young woman near Joachim’s age peering from a second-story window. Blond hair hung around her slender face. She stared at him, wide-eyed, for a long moment. His chest tightened in response to the need he recognized, even at this distance, in her pensive gaze. Before he could acknowledge her presence, she stepped away, leaving him confused by the tangle of emotion that wrapped around his heart.

Joachim pulled the horse to a stop and jumped to the ground as the front door opened. Victor Thomin stepped outside, coffee mug in hand. Tall and skinny with unkempt red hair, Hazel Thomin’s only child had not improved in looks—or, it seemed, in temperament—over the last five years.

With a surly grunt, Victor raised the mug to his lips and drank deeply, his beady eyes intent on Joachim, even as he wiped the back of his hand over his thin lips. A cut festered that had spattered his knuckles with dried blood.

Recalling the baleful glance of the woman at the window, Joachim made a connection that caused his eyes to widen in horror—though he immediately reminded himself that it could be wild speculation and not credible in the least. He had no proof of abuse, yet Joachim could not and would not ignore his instincts. Victor had been a scoundrel in his youth, and from the downward pull on his drawn lips, there was no reason to think he had changed.

Extending his hand, Joachim introduced himself. Instinctively, he knew from Victor’s menacing expression that the red-haired man had failed to recognize him.

Victor reluctantly accepted the handshake. “Is there something you want?”

“I’m looking for work.” Joachim glanced again at the overhead window, feeling a sense of loss at finding it empty. “Carpentry, painting or any handyman jobs you might need done. I can provide references.”

Victor pursed his lips. “You’re from around here?”

Joachim would not lie, but he saw no reason to provide more than a minimum of information. “I worked in North Carolina for a number of years. Folks said there might be jobs in this area of North Georgia.”

He studied the once-beautiful home, pausing to gaze at each window, hoping for another sign of the illusive woman. “Looks like they were right. Your house could use a bit of upkeep.”

Victor shrugged. “I doubt this old place is worth the effort.”

“A few repairs will make a big difference,” Joachim assured him. He touched the dry rot around the front door and peered inside the house through the sidelight. His heart skittered in his chest.

The woman he had seen moments earlier now stood poised on the landing. She raised her index finger to her lips as if pleading for him to remain silent about her whereabouts. The furtive look on her oval face made him even more concerned about her wellbeing.

Joachim turned back to Victor. “I can do as little or as much as you want. But you should know that the value of your property would improve with the repairs, in case you decide to sell any time soon.”

Victor arched a brow. Seemingly, the mention of financial gain brought interest. “You think I could find a buyer?”

Joachim nodded. “Yah, if you are willing to fix some of the problems.”

“I’ve got rot around the back porch, too,” Victor volunteered. “Plus, the kitchen door is warped and won’t close easily.”

“Let me have a look,” Joachim suggested. He motioned Victor to take the lead and then glanced again into the house. The woman had disappeared.

Joachim sighed at his own foolishness. He knew better than to play hide-and-seek with an Englisch woman. He needed employment, not involvement in a domestic dispute. Although she and Victor seemed an unlikely match. Perhaps she was a caregiver for his mother. Still, something did not seem right. Whether she was there as an employee, a spouse or a guest...no woman should look so afraid.

After rounding the house, Joachim climbed to the back porch. Quickly he inspected the sagging roof and rotting soffits, trying to get his mind off the woman who continued to tug at his heart.

His gaze turned to the kitchen window. He stepped closer in pretense of examining the sill, all the while peering through the glass, searching the kitchen and hallway beyond for some sign of the woman.

Victor stood to the side. “If I do hire you,” he warned, scratching his chin, “I won’t stand for laziness or slipshod work.”

Movement caught Joachim’s eye. Something or someone hurried across the entrance hallway to the front door.

“I understand your concern, but you will not find me to be lazy or my work slipshod,” Joachim said, hoping to keep Victor’s attention on the disrepair instead of what was happening inside the house.

Feeling the need to provide a distraction, Joachim tapped the sill and pushed on the wood before moving to the next window and repeating his assessment.

“Yah,” he finally said. “There is much work to be done. I could start tomorrow. Pay me only if you are satisfied with the completed job.”

“I’ll think it over.” Victor took another slug of his coffee. “Stop by tomorrow, and I’ll let you know.”

Joachim nodded. “Sounds gut.”

Leaving Victor on the porch, Joachim returned to the front of the house. He glanced at the outbuildings and barn in the distance. Had the woman left the house? Was she now hiding close at hand, or was he making more out of that which was innocent?

“Sarah?” Victor’s voice sounded as he entered the house.

Joachim climbed into the buggy and flicked the reins. Thankfully, Belle responded with a brisk trot.

Although Joachim kept his eyes on the road, he knew he was not alone. He had seen the tarp—which had been neatly folded and stowed away earlier—strewed over the back of the buggy. Someone was hiding under the thick covering.

He hurried the mare along the driveway and felt a sense of relief as he guided Belle onto the main road.

A sports car raced by, going much too fast. The woman in the passenger’s seat turned to stare at Joachim as if she had never seen an Amish man.

Too soon, the sound of another vehicle filled the air.

Joachim looked back, seeing a red pickup truck turn out of the Thomin driveway. Victor sat behind the wheel. The tires squealed as he gunned the engine.

Would he pass by as the other car had done or stop and demand to know who or what was hiding under the tarp in Joachim’s buggy?

Coming home had been a mistake. More than reconciling with his father, Joachim needed to reconcile with himself as to why he was so eager to help an Englisch woman on the run.

TWO

Sarah blinked back tears and tried to calm her heart before it ricocheted out of her chest. She had been a fool to think she could escape. The squeal of tires and the whine of a vehicle approaching the buggy made her realize the full extent of her mistake.

She curled into an even smaller ball and prayed the tarp would keep her hidden. After two months of captivity, she shuddered at the thought of what her punishment might be if Victor found her. Plus, she had put the Amish man in danger, and now he would be subject to Victor’s wrath, as well. The man driving the buggy was innocent of any wrongdoing and had stepped, quite literally, into a perfect storm that was getting worse by the moment.

That she had grabbed the opportunity to run away from Victor still stunned her. An action she never would have taken if not for his abuse earlier this morning. She had planned to escape with Miriam after they were reunited. Her sister would have known what to do and where to go. Miriam had saved Sarah from the fire. She would have saved her from Victor, as well.

Instead, the Amish man with the broad shoulders and understanding gaze had been the catalyst that had Sarah running for her life. Even when peering down at him from the window, she had felt an instant surge of hope when their eyes met, as if he knew she was in danger and had come to her rescue.

The hope evaporated with the deafening roar of the motor vehicle. She fisted her hands and bit down on her lip, willing herself to remain still while internally she wanted to kick her feet and wail like a small child who didn’t want to be punished for some misdeed. Yet she had done nothing wrong.

Victor was the one at fault, a fact she needed to remember. How thoroughly he had filled her mind with lies so that she sometimes confused her innocence with guilt.

“You’re the reason, Sarah, that we have to hide from the police,” Victor had complained on more than one occasion. “If I didn’t need to protect you, I would be free to come and go. Instead, we must hole up and hide out so the corrupt cops won’t find you and sell you into slavery along with your sister.”

He had brainwashed her with his constant badgering about her guilt. Fear, fatigue and her dulled senses, caused by the drugs he forced on her, had added to her confusion.

Thankfully, today, she was able to think rationally enough to seize the opportunity to escape. Pulling in a fortifying breath, she smelled the musty scent of the tarp mixed with the damp cool air of the encroaching storm. If dark clouds hung overhead, hopefully, they weren’t a harbinger of what would happen to her in the next few moments.

Instead of the weather, she focused on the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the pavement and tried to ignore the blast of a horn and the revved acceleration of the vehicle that forced the buggy to the side of the road.

“Hold up there, Belle.” The deep voice of the Amish man quieting his horse should have calmed her unease, but knowing Victor was the reason brought another volley of fear to wrap around her spine and underscored the seriousness of her situation as the buggy came to a stop.

God help me, she silently prayed. Help the Amish man. Save both of us from Victor.

“Hey, Amish.” Victor’s voice. “Did you see a woman leave my house?”

“Your mudder?”

“Not my mother.” Victor’s sharp retort reminded Sarah of the caustic tone he often used with her. “A twenty-one-year-old woman wearing jeans and a sweater.”

“She is your schweschder?” The Amish voice was deep and calming.

“What?” Victor didn’t understand.

“Your schweschder,” the Amish man repeated. “Is your sister the woman for whom you are searching?”

“I don’t have a sister,” Victor spat. “I’m looking for the woman who works for us, helping my mother. Did you see anyone?”

“A car passed by, heading toward Petersville. A woman sat in the passenger seat. The man driving had a bald head.”

“What color was the woman’s hair?”

“Blond. This is perhaps the woman you are seeking?”

Victor grumbled. A car door slammed and tires squealed as he drove away. Sarah held her breath and listened to the sound of the engine disappearing into the distance.

“He’s gone.” The Amish man’s voice was low and reassuring. “You can come out now.”

He had known she was under the tarp?

She raised the edge of the covering and stared up at a square jaw, furrowed brow and deep-set eyes filled with question.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked.

She hadn’t expected his concern or the tears that filled her eyes. “Not until today.”

“He will return soon. Plus, a storm is approaching.”

She looked at the darkening sky.

“I will take you someplace safe. Do you have family in the area?”

She glanced at a nearby road sign—Petersville 5 miles, Willkommen 30 miles—and shook her head. “My sister will be here tomorrow or the day after. She’ll make sure I’m safe once she arrives.”

“But today you need lodging,” he said, calmly stating the obvious. “Stay under the tarp in case Victor returns.”

Without further discussion, he turned his gaze to the road and clicked his tongue. The buggy jerked as the horse responded. Sarah found the sound of the horse’s hooves on the pavement and the sway of the carriage mildly soothing.

She didn’t know anything about the Amish man, yet he had helped her escape. She had to trust him, at least for the moment. From what she knew about the Amish, they kept to themselves and had little to do with law enforcement. If so, the man in the buggy might help her elude the crooked cops who had hijacked Miriam’s car and were searching for both sisters even now. He might also help her reconnect with Miriam and take both of them to safety. But where would that be?

Sarah had moved from town to town her entire life with no place to call home except the short-term rentals where she and her mother and sisters had lived for a month or two at most, before moving on to the next temporary lodging. How foolish she was to think her life in the future would be different, no matter how much she longed for stability and a home of her own.

Relieved though Sarah was to be free of Victor, she worried about his mother now left home alone with her crazed son. Over the last few weeks, Ms. Hazel’s condition had deteriorated much too quickly, making Sarah wonder if Victor was doing something to speed up her decline.

Concern for the older woman weighed heavily on Sarah’s shoulders, but she couldn’t do anything to help Ms. Hazel at the moment. Right now, she needed to close her eyes and rest. Sarah had escaped, although she felt anything but free while hiding under the tarp with Victor prowling the area in search of her.

Should Victor return to question her rescuer again, would the Amish man whose faith embraced peaceful nonresistance be able to save her? Or would Victor find her? She shuddered at the thought, knowing that if he got his hands on her once more, Victor would ensure Sarah never escaped again.

* * *

The dark sky mirrored Joachim’s inner struggle. Passing through the intersection where Eli died had been Joachim’s undoing earlier. Now he was hiding a woman he did not know. The added complication only made him more conflicted.

All too clearly, he had recognized the pain on the woman’s face as she glanced down at him from the window and again as she stood on the stairway inside the Thomin house, her finger to her lips and her eyes pleading for mercy. Her expression had reminded Joachim of his own sense of hopelessness and despair that had overwhelmed him following his brother’s death.

Was that what had drawn Joachim to the woman and made him long to protect her?

He glanced at the rear of the buggy, where she lay under the tarp. By the steady rise and fall of the heavy covering, he presumed she had fallen asleep, which was probably for the best. Fatigue had lined her face along with fear that made him grateful he had come to her rescue.

The wind picked up, and the temperature dropped as dark clouds billowed overhead. Joachim needed to find shelter before the storm brought more chaos to this already confusing day.

He flicked the reins, hurrying Belle. Instinctively, she knew the route he had chosen to take.

The woman needed a place to hole up for a day or two until she could connect with her sister. Petersville was the nearest town, but that was the direction Victor had gone. When he failed to find her there, he would more than likely retrace his route to search more thoroughly in the local area.

The Burkholder farm adjoined the Thomin property, but the road connecting the two homes took a circuitous route around the fields and pastures. Glancing at the sky, Joachim wondered if Belle would get them to shelter in time.

If his father was tilling the soil in the distant acreage, Joachim might be able to signal his sister, Rebecca, especially if she was working in the garden. She had written him faithfully while he was away, telling him about the family. In spite of the breezy news she shared, Joachim had read between the lines, all too aware of the emotional anguish Eli’s death had caused his family.

More than anything, Joachim longed to see Mamm again, yet his mother would abide by the rules his father established. Having to watch her turn her back on him would be almost too hard to bear.

And the woman hiding in the back of his buggy? If his father forbid Joachim entry into the house, he would hole up in the barn and give the woman as long as she needed to decide where she wanted to go. Until that time, Joachim would stand guard, ensuring Victor did not find her.

But would she want Joachim’s help?

He shook his head. An Englisch woman was not in his future, yet whether he liked it or not, she was very much in his present. More than anything, Joachim wanted to keep her safe from Victor and from anyone else who might cause her harm.

THREE

In her dream, Sarah watched Victor raise his hand to strike her. She screamed, then flailed her arms and tried to free herself from the shroud that covered her.

“You are safe.” Hands reached for her, removed the heavy covering and pulled her into an embrace.

Not Victor, but the Amish man.

“Shh,” he soothed, cradling her like a child.

It was the first comfort she had felt in far too long. She buried her head against his neck, wanting to remain forever enveloped in his warm and protective hold.

Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, wetting his cotton shirt. Hearing the rain, she was more than grateful to be under cover and out of the storm, and even more grateful for the human contact.

The rapid thump of his heart proved the Amish man wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She nestled closer, not wanting to open her eyes or leave the security of his embrace for which she had hungered too long.

Thunder crashed overhead.

“Joachim?” A woman’s voice said the name, her tone filled with surprise.

Another clap of thunder.

Her Amish protector tensed and pulled back ever so slightly.

Sarah clung to him for a moment before her eyes fluttered open.

His head was turned. She followed his gaze to the woman dressed in a calf-length blue dress, white apron and bonnet, who stood just inside the open barn door.

Outside, rain pummeled the earth. The day had turned dark as night. Or was it night already? She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The woman’s questioning frown seemed equally dark. Perhaps she was the man’s wife. The thought cut through Sarah’s heart. She had been such a fool.

Embarrassed by her neediness and the way she had reached out to the man, she untangled her arms from where they had wrapped around him.

He glanced down at her, a glint of confusion flashing from his dark eyes.

Was he upset that his wife had found him giving comfort to a woman who wanted nothing more than to return to his embrace?

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to make sense of what had happened. “I was asleep. I didn’t realize...”

“Who are you?” the Amish woman demanded, glancing first at Sarah and then turning her frosty gaze to the man. “Joachim, is there something you did not tell me in your letters?”

“She needs help, Rebecca.”

“Yah, and it looks like you need help as well from the way you clutched the Englischer to your heart.”

“Father is in the house?” he asked, seemingly sidetracking the issue at hand.

Rebecca shook her head. “He and Mamm are visiting Aunt Mildred and Uncle Frank in Kentucky. They will be gone for a few more days. Had you written that you were coming home, they might not have left.”

Sarah was trying to follow the conversation and understand the undercurrent of what was really being said. The man had mentioned his father. No, his tone implied that it was their father. Was the woman not his wife?

“Excuse me,” Sarah said, pulling away from him and peering at both of them. “You’re not married?”

The woman huffed. “Why do you think this?”

Evidently, Sarah had jumped to the wrong conclusion. She held up her hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to offend either of you.”

She turned to Joachim. “Thank you for bringing me here. If I could stay in the barn until the storm passes, I would appreciate it.”

His brow furrowed. “You plan to leave?” He shook his head. “This cannot be.”

He climbed from the buggy and motioned to the Amish woman. “We must take our guest into the house.”

Glancing back, his gaze burrowed into hers. “Your name is Sarah?”

She nodded. “Sarah Miller.”

“I’m Joachim Burkholder.” He pointed to the other woman. “My sister, Rebecca.”

The weight on Sarah’s shoulders lifted ever so slightly. Sister. Not wife. Tears again stung her eyes.

“She needs food and lodging, Rebecca.”

The Amish woman stepped closer. Her earlier scowl softened but she seemed hesitant to offer Sarah a hearty welcome.

“We must hurry,” Joachim said. “Before Victor returns.”

Rebecca grasped her brother’s arm. “Victor Thomin?”

“Yah. He is staying at his mother’s house.”

“Ach,” his sister groaned, with a shake of her head. “Naomi said he is not a good man.”

“You know Naomi?” Sarah asked. “Victor’s mother kept asking for her.”

Rebecca nodded. “Naomi lived nearby. She cared for Ms. Hazel while Victor was away.”

Joachim pointed to the open barn door. “The rain eases. We must go inside.”

He reached for Sarah and helped her from the buggy. Taking her hand, he hurried her out of the barn.

Dark clouds rolled overhead. Another storm was approaching, but Sarah breathed in the cleansing air, feeling a sense of relief. She had escaped Victor. She had a place to stay. At least for now, she was free.

A bolt of lightning pierced the sky and struck nearby. The almost-immediate crash made Sarah realize everything could change in an instant.

She would never be free of Victor, not until the hateful man was stopped.

* * *

The rain intensified just before Joachim and Sarah reached the porch. Another sound was discernable over the rain. He glanced at the drive and tensed. A horse and buggy scurried along the main road. For a long moment, Joachim stared after the buggy and then let out a deep breath.

“You thought it was Victor, didn’t you?” she pressed.

He squeezed Sarah’s hand, hoping to provide reassurance and bring comfort to her seemingly still-anxious heart. “Victor will not find you here.”

At least that was Joachim’s hope.

Together they climbed the steps to the porch. He opened the door and motioned her inside. She wiped her feet on the latched rug and hurried into the kitchen.

A sense of calm and right order enveloped Joachim as he stepped over the threshold and stopped to take in the peacefulness that pervaded the space. Glancing at the familiar furnishings—the table and chairs, dry sink and cabinets—his datt had made, Joachim soaked in the aura of home and family he had missed for the last five years.

“Rebecca can brew coffee,” he said, hoping his voice did not reveal the mix of emotions that had welled up within him upon entering the house. He turned to the newcomer. “Perhaps you would prefer tea?”

Sarah glanced at Rebecca, who hurried in behind them.

“I have cold cuts and cheese and fresh baked bread if you are hungry.”

“Thank you both,” Sarah said. “But first, I need to wash my hands and face, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” Rebecca pointed to the stairs. “I will take you to the room where you will stay the night. Joachim must tend his mare. We will eat after he returns from the barn.”

His sister turned as if to shoo him outside. But despite her prompting, he was slow to head to the door. He did not want to leave the home to which he had only now returned. He also did not want to leave Sarah.

He gently touched her shoulder. “So much has happened, but you are not to worry. Victor is in town, searching for you there.”

“And if he comes here?” she asked.

“I will not let him into the house.”

Belle needed to be groomed and fed. Rebecca would take care of Sarah until he returned. Still, leaving the house this time was almost as hard as leaving the mountains had been five years ago.

How could he have grown so attached to a woman—an Englisch woman—in such a short period of time? He knew nothing about her except that she needed a safe place to stay for a day or two. He and Rebecca would open their home to her, but Joachim needed to be careful. As taken as he was by her in such a short time, he feared what might happen in the days ahead. He must guard not only Sarah, but also his heart.

FOUR

Joachim had said that he would keep her safe. As much as Sarah wanted to believe him, she was worried. Victor was unpredictable, and his mood swings had grown progressively more extreme. He had warned her never to leave him, but she’d done just that. Given how angry he’d been before over smaller infractions, what would his response be to this?

Rebecca filled a pitcher with water and motioned for Sarah to follow her. “A diesel pump runs our well, so we always have water in the house,” the Amish woman explained as they climbed the stairs. “Propane heats our water for washing and bathing. Later I will fill a tub for you.”

On the second floor, she ushered Sarah into a small but spotlessly clean bedroom. A beige patchwork quilt pieced with blue triangles covered the single bed. A chest of drawers, table and straight-back chair filled the room.

Rebecca placed the pitcher on the chest next to a large porcelain bowl. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a thick terry-cloth towel, a bar of soap and a glass bottle.

“I made the soap and shampoo and added natural oils to both products. I hope you will find them to your liking.”

“Thank you, Rebecca. You and your brother have been so thoughtful.”

Rebecca seemed to appreciate the compliment that hopefully would wash away her earlier concern about Sarah. The Amish woman offered a weak smile. Her cheeks glowed pink with a mix of embarrassment and appreciation. “Come downstairs when you are ready to eat.”

Sarah glanced at the inviting bed, wishing she could hide under the covers and curl into a ball. Maybe then she wouldn’t worry about Victor finding her again. Was she safe here? Sarah needed to learn more about Joachim Burkholder and his Amish family. Thanks to them, she had a place to stay, at least for now.

She scrubbed her face and hands and dabbed water through her hair, appreciating the clean, fresh scent of the bar soap and eyeing the liquid shampoo. Using the bath products Rebecca had made would be a welcome treat, although so much could happen in the hours ahead. Sarah needed to focus on figuring out what she needed to do to remain free from Victor instead of on creature comforts like having a long soak in a hot tub.

After patting her face and hands dry, she returned to the kitchen.

“The coffee is hot,” Rebecca said in greeting. “Or as Joachim mentioned, I could make tea.”

“He’s still in the barn?” Sarah asked, knowing nothing about farm life and feeling somewhat awkward around his sister.

“Yah. Joachim feeds his horse before he feeds himself.”

“You seemed surprised to see him.”

The Amish woman nodded. “He has been gone from our home for a number of years. It is gut to have him back again.”

“Do you have other siblings?”

“A brother, Eli, died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was Gott’s will.”

Sarah didn’t want to think about a loving God taking anyone’s life. At the moment, she longed for something to keep her mind on anything other than death. “May I help you prepare the lunch?”

“You can slice the bread. It is cooling on the counter.” Rebecca pointed to the raised loaf. A knife lay next to a cutting board.

“It’s homemade?” Sarah asked, admiring the plumpness of the loaf and the golden brown crust.

“Yah.” Rebecca arranged the meat and cheese on a platter. “I always make extra bread and sell it to tourists who stop at our driveway.”

Sarah looked out the window, suspicion growing within her. “Do people often come to your house?”

“It is not something that should worry you,” Rebecca assured her.

In spite of Rebecca’s comment, Sarah couldn’t shake off her concern about strangers visiting the Burkholder farm while she stayed there. She continued to peer from the window, hoping for some sign of Joachim—and for no sign of anyone else. The door to the barn hung open, and the interior looked dark and foreboding.

Rebecca claimed Joachim was caring for his horse, but what if she was wrong? Victor could have returned and overpowered Joachim when he wasn’t looking. Perhaps Victor was ready to barge into the house and capture Sarah again.

Minutes ticked by, only increasing her worry. “Why is Joachim taking so long?” she finally asked, unable to calm her unease.

“You could go to the barn and ask him yourself,” Rebecca suggested. “Or you could join me in the main room where I have my mending. Joachim will come inside shortly.”

Joachim had assured Sarah earlier that she was safe, but it felt to her as if too much time had elapsed since he had left the house. Rebecca moved into the main room and started humming. The tune, a childhood favorite, should have calmed Sarah’s unease. Instead, it only added to her concern. What was she doing in a strange house with people she didn’t know?

She glanced at the oil lamps on the wall, the candles on the sideboard and the matches on the table. Her chest constricted and her pulse raced. A ringing sounded in her ears that failed to overpower the voice screaming through her mind.

Fire!

She wrung her hands. The memory of that night so long ago returned, constricting her lungs and leaving her gasping for air, overcome by the same panic that filled her every time she even thought about flames.

She had to leave. Now.

Ever so quietly, she opened the kitchen door and gulped in the damp air, all the while the voice continued to warn her.

While in the buggy, she had seen a sign for Willkommen. Victor had mentioned Miriam was being held somewhere in that area. Their aunt lived in Willkommen, as well. At least that’s what their mother had told them. If Sarah could get to Willkommen, she might find her aunt, and together they could search for Miriam.

She pulled in a fortifying breath and then raced down the steps and scurried past the barn, heading toward the pasture and a line of trees on the far side of the field. She would hide there until the roadway looked clear. Then she would cross to the opposite side where a thick patch of trees flanked the road. Hidden by dense underbrush, she would make her way to the narrow two-lane that veered off from the main road, where she had spotted the sign for Willkommen.

As much as Sarah had appreciated Joachim’s help, she couldn’t rely on him to keep her safe. He was Victor’s neighbor.

She checked the road for cars, saw that it was clear and crossed the pavement. The approach of a vehicle sounded in the distance. Her pulse raced. She turned to glance over her shoulder.

Her heart stopped as a red pickup crested the nearby hill. Victor!

She ran toward the trees, needing to disappear in the brush. She wouldn’t let him capture her again.

The truck accelerated.

She ran faster.

The screech of brakes made her heart lurch.

Victor had seen her.

Footfalls pounded the pavement. He was coming after her.

She’d been so foolish. Victor was more of a threat to her safety than the matches and candles and oil lamps. She never should have traded the security of Joachim’s house for the outdoors, where she was so vulnerable.

“Sarah!” Victor screamed her name.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then chastised herself for being so easily swayed.

Fighting against the pull of his voice, she forced herself forward, remembering how he had choked her this morning until she couldn’t breathe.

She pushed through the bushes, needing to escape his voice, his control. To escape him.

“You won’t get away, Sarah,” he called, as if reading her mind. “I’ll follow you. You can’t escape from me.”

The branches scraped her arms and pulled at her sweater, but she kept going, ignoring the cuts to her flesh. She couldn’t listen to her body. She had to listen to her mind, warning her to run fast, run hard, run away.

She made a sharp turn to the right and ran all the faster. The only sound she heard was her own raspy breath and pounding heart. For an instant, she thought she had eluded him until the sound of his footfalls returned along with the rustle of leaves.

If only she had stayed at Joachim’s house. He would have protected her.

“Sarah!” He was close. Too close.

She tripped.

He grabbed her.

She fought to free herself from his hold.

No! She tried to scream, but his hand clamped around her mouth.

“Sarah?” Victor called again. This time, he was farther away and moving in an opposite direction.

If Victor wasn’t holding her, then who was?

* * *

Soft. Her skin was so very soft.

Joachim dropped his hand, releasing Sarah from his hold.

She stood ever so still, as if afraid to move.

“He’s heading back to his truck,” Joachim whispered. “You lost him when you made that sharp turn to the right. I saw you cross the street when I left the barn, but it took me a while to catch up to you.”

“Oh, Joachim,” she said, pulling in a deep breath. “Victor was following close behind me.”

“But you outsmarted him, Sarah.”

She turned to gaze up at Joachim with blue eyes that were crystal clear and filled with sorrow. His heart tripped in his chest, making him want to move even closer.

“I never should have left your house,” she said, seemingly oblivious to the way her nearness affected him. “It wasn’t because of any distrust for you or your sister. It was me. I didn’t want to cause you any problems. If Victor found me at your house, I’m not sure what he would have done. Plus, I need to get to Willkommen. My sister Miriam—”

She shook her head. “I haven’t mentioned my aunt. My sister, my mother and I came here to find her, but dirty cops hijacked our car. Miriam and I were taken and our mother was killed. Victor said he bought me so I could take care of his mother. I’m still so confused.” She pulled in a ragged breath. “It was crazy of me to think I could have found my way to Willkommen, yet it seemed like the best choice I had in that moment. I don’t have any place else to go.”

“You have my house. Victor will not find you there. I will protect you.”

At least Joachim hoped he could keep her safe. “Willkommen is a two-hour buggy ride from Petersville,” he tried to explain. “Even if you were strong, the trip would be difficult for you to manage on foot. You have been held captive. You must gain your strength first. I will take you when you are ready.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Sarah tugged at a strand of her golden hair. “Or maybe I was thinking too much about getting away from Victor.”

Joachim held out his hand. She placed hers in his, her touch light, but she was trembling and her pale face gave him even more cause for concern. She needed time to rest and gain her strength. Good food and lots of sleep would help build up Sarah’s reserve. Then they could think about traveling to Willkommen.

“Rebecca will wonder where we are,” he said. “We will go now and take a path that leads through the woods. The spot where we will cross the road is thick with trees on both sides of the pavement. We will move slowly and keep watch lest Victor be close at hand.”

“I’m all right, Joachim. You don’t have to worry about me.”

But he was worried. He was worried about the fatigue written so plainly across her sweet face. She was too thin and too pale, and no matter how strong she tried to appear, she needed rest and nourishment.

He had to get Sarah to his house to keep her safe. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run away again because next time he might not be able to save her.

* * *

Once they arrived back at the Burkholder house, Joachim held the kitchen door open for Sarah and motioned her inside.

“Rebecca has lunch ready,” he said, as they stepped over the threshold and into the warmth of the Amish home. “A good meal is what we both need.”

His eyes were filled with understanding as he looked at her and smiled. “Is that not right?”

“I am hungry,” Sarah admitted, grateful for Joachim’s focus on food instead of mentioning her foolish mistake of thinking she could outwit Victor.

Just as Joachim had mentioned, she needed to gain strength before she journeyed to Willkommen. Besides, Victor said Miriam might be arriving at his house in a day or two. This wasn’t the time for Sarah to run scared.

“Joachim, you are ready for a cup of coffee?” Rebecca asked as she entered the kitchen, her needlework still in her hands. From her casual gait and nonchalance, she evidently had not realized what had transpired after Sarah left the house.

“Yah,” Joachim said with a nod. “I will wash my hands, and then I will also be ready for the meats and cheeses you have placed on the table.”

He and Sarah both washed at the sink. Rebecca filled mugs with coffee and motioned Sarah to sit next to her at the table.

Joachim sat across from both women and bowed his head.

Sarah and Rebecca followed suit, with each person praying silently.

Thank You, Lord, Sarah mentally intoned, for Joachim rescuing me in the woods, and thank You for providing this place of shelter from the storm. Send Miriam and let me help her escape whoever is holding her captive so she and I can be together again.

She glanced up to find Joachim staring at her. Her chest tightened, and a warmth tingled her neck. Glancing away, she reached for the meats and cheeses and placed a slice of each on a piece of bread.

Hungry though she was, Sarah kept thinking of Victor’s mother, knowing Ms. Hazel was at the mercy of her son. What would become of the frail woman if Victor left the area for good?

“You are thinking of Victor?” Joachim asked.

“His mother. She’s bedridden. A sweet lady who is too infirm to help herself.”

“Victor is not to be trusted.” Rebecca said with a decisive nod.

Sarah reached for her coffee, not willing to let her expression reveal her own struggle, knowing she had wanted to believe Victor when he’d first taken her from the cabin where she and Miriam had been held. He had told her he would keep her safe from the men who planned to traffic both sisters across state lines. Had it been the drugs that made Sarah believe—at least for a day or two—that he would protect her?

Joachim placed his mug on the table and cocked his head. “A vehicle approaches.”

Sarah recognized the sound. Her stomach tightened, and she clutched her hands. “What if it’s Victor?”

“Stay inside.” Joachim left the table. “Do not let anyone see you.”

He opened the door and stepped onto the porch. Rebecca ran to open the window over the sink.

“It is a pickup truck,” she relayed to Sarah. “A man is driving. Red hair.”

She glanced back at Sarah. “Yah, it is Victor.”

Sarah wanted to find a closet and hide.

“The pantry.” Rebecca pointed to the walk-in alcove. “He will not see you there.”

Sarah’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest. She hurried into the pantry. Peering around the curtain that divided the cupboard area from the kitchen, she watched the truck pull to a stop.

“Hey, Amish.” Victor’s raised voice floated through the partially open window. “I spotted the woman I told you about. She disappeared in the woods. If you see her, let me know.”

“Why do you need to find this woman?” Joachim asked, his voice calm and rational in contrast to Victor’s nervous high pitch.

“Sarah worked for my mother. Now she’s gone. In fact, if you know of an Amish girl who wants a job, I need to hire someone.”

“Dependable help is hard to find,” Joachim said.

“As sickly as my mother has become, I doubt she’ll live long. I plan to get the house ready to sell. Come over tomorrow. I have work for you, and remember to let me know if you see that woman.”

Victor turned his truck around and drove off.

Sarah’s heart hammered in her chest. If she had been outside on the porch, or even standing next to a window, Victor would have spotted her.

Joachim entered the kitchen and hurried to where she stood, her eyes wide and back to the wall.

“He is gone,” Joachim assured her.

Sarah was too frightened to move. Victor had found her once. He could find her again no matter what Joachim did to try to stop him.

* * *

Fear. Joachim had seen it in Sarah’s pretty blue eyes when he had come back inside the house after Victor had driven away.

“He is gone,” Joachim assured her again. From the look on her face, he knew his words did little to quell her upset.

A knock sounded at the front door. Sarah took a step back and gasped.

Joachim glanced at Rebecca. “You are expecting someone?”

“Levi Plank has been helping me while Mamm and Datt are away.” She peered from the kitchen window. “Yah, it is Levi.”

Her voice took on a lilt Joachim had not heard, and the blush to her cheeks made him pause.

“Levi is a friend,” Rebecca assured Sarah. “You do not need to be afraid.”

But her words did little to change the concern written so plainly on Sarah’s face. She backed even farther into the pantry and covered her mouth with her hand; all the while her eyes sought out Joachim. He nodded his encouragement before he stepped toward the door.

Years before, the young Amish man had been his brother Eli’s friend. Both the same age, Levi had been the quiet, pensive one whose personality contrasted sharply with Eli’s charisma.

Rebecca opened the door, her eyes twinkling with interest, a warm and welcoming smile on her face as she invited Levi inside. “I have a surprise that I did not expect. Joachim has come home.”

In the five years that Joachim had been away, the quiet youth had grown into a muscular man whose grip was strong and firm when the two men shook hands.

“This is a gut surprise,” Levi said. Then as if overcome with enthusiasm, he pulled Joachim close and slapped his back. “You have been missed.”

The sincerity of his welcome touched Joachim. “It is good to see you, my friend.”

“Our parting was difficult. I trust you have been well. It was time for you to come home, yah?”

Joachim nodded. “It was time.”

Levi’s gaze turned to the alcove where Sarah peered with wide eyes at the gathering.

“You have brought someone home with you?” Levi asked, a hint of confusion evident in his tone.

Sarah took a step forward as Joachim introduced her to Levi. “Sarah needed a place to stay,” Rebecca quickly volunteered. “She will remain with us for a day or two.”

“You have found a good house,” Levi said with a nod. “Plus, Rebecca is known for her pies and cakes.”

He rubbed his stomach. “Often she asks me to taste her baked items after the chores.” He smiled at the young Amish woman. “Perhaps today we will all be able to enjoy a slice or two of pie.”

Rebecca laughed. “Yah, that is possible after the animals are watered and fed. You know I cannot resist you, Levi, with all the help you have provided.”

“Then I will hurry to the chores as my mouth waters for the special treat that awaits.”

Joachim nodded. “I, too, am grateful for your help, Levi. We will go together.”

“I will bake something while you both work,” Rebecca assured them. She glanced at Sarah. “We will both remain in the house and watch for Victor.”

“Victor Thomin?” Levi asked.

“Yah.” Rebecca nodded. “He is a dangerous man. I do not know how Naomi could work so long in his house.”

“My sister helped Ms. Hazel, but she had nothing to do with Victor. Ms. Hazel lived alone back then.”

Sarah stepped from the alcove. “Your sister was the Amish woman Ms. Hazel mentioned? She misses Naomi.”

“We all miss her,” Levi admitted.

“I don’t understand,” Sarah said.

Levi pursed his lips and thought for a moment before responding. “Victor came home. She did not like being around him, but we fear something else could have happened because she left not only the job but also the area. We have not heard from Naomi since then.”

Sarah’s brow furrowed. “Did you go to the police?”

“The Amish in this community do not trust the Petersville police. It is commonly known that they can be bribed and bought. My datt would not have gone to them, except for his concern for Naomi’s welfare.” Levi’s voice took on an angry edge as he continued. “They were no help and said Naomi must have left for a better life among the Englisch.”

Rebecca patted his shoulder, offering support.

He nodded his thanks and then continued. “It was not what my father wanted to hear. We will not go to the police again. They do not understand our ways. Some say they are only interested in their own gain.”

“Victor told me the police were corrupt,” Sarah shared. “Although he is corrupt as well, so I don’t know if I can believe what he said. Still, my sister’s car was hijacked by men claiming to be police.” She quickly explained being sold to Victor and how Joachim had helped her escape today.

Levi was right, Joachim thought. The Amish did not trust the police, but Victor needed to be stopped by law enforcement. Perhaps Sarah would change her mind about notifying the authorities if she knew them to be honorable. Right now, she was exhausted and still traumatized by what had happened. Joachim would broach the subject again later. In the meantime he would do everything possible to keep her safe.

FIVE

Sarah appreciated the bath Rebecca drew while the men worked outdoors. The fragrance of the sweet-smelling soap she provided filled the air like a spring bouquet. Sarah stepped from the tub feeling rejuvenated and grateful as she slipped into the Amish dress Rebecca had provided.

“With a clean body, you must also have fresh clothes,” Rebecca stated as she instructed Sarah on how to pin the fabric and then adjust the apron around her waist.

“What about the bonnet?” Sarah asked.

“It is a prayer kapp. Amish women cover their heads when they pray.”

“But you wear it all the time?”

“This is true. We are always ready to pray when our head is covered.”

“I pray but perhaps not often enough,” Sarah admitted.

“The kapp will remind you to do so.”

Sarah thought of being in the closet as a child. The smoke had seeped under the door, making her even more afraid. God hadn’t saved her even though Sarah had prayed. Thankfully, Miriam had come to her rescue.

“Did you ever pray for something that didn’t come about so that you felt God refused your prayer?” Sarah asked.

“Gott does not refuse prayer, but sometimes that which we desire is not according to His will.” Rebecca sighed. “I told you that Joachim and I had a younger brother named Eli, who died in a buggy accident. My mamm prayed for him to live.”

“I’m so sorry about your brother.”

“As I mentioned earlier, it was Gott’s will.” Rebecca smiled ruefully. “This is what my mamm believes.”

“And your father?”

Rebecca’s face clouded. “My father does not blame Gott.” She hesitated as if weighing whether to say something else, then shrugging, she added, “He blames Joachim.”

Before Sarah could question her further, Rebecca picked up the white bonnet from where she had placed it on the dresser and handed it to Sarah. Earlier, she had pulled her towel-dried hair into a bun, and she now placed the bonnet on her head.

Rebecca stood back and nodded her approval. “You look like an Amish woman. Victor will not recognize you if he returns to talk to Joachim.”

Sarah’s stomach roiled thinking again of the hateful man who had held her against her will for too long. How could his mother, who seemed sweet and unassuming, birth a baby who would grow to be so vicious?

What had caused Victor to turn out so bad? She shook her head at the issues within families. Sarah’s oldest sister, Hannah, had left three years ago. Sarah had pleaded for her to stay, but Hannah said she had to leave. Sarah hadn’t understood her reasoning or why Hannah had never contacted them again.

When she begged her mother to reach out to Hannah and ask her to return home, her mother had shoved the request aside, just as she ignored anything that didn’t suit her. Sarah never understood how she could turn her back on her own child. Although too many times her mother had turned her back on Miriam and Sarah. At least Sarah had always had Miriam, but where was she now and would the two women ever be reunited?

* * *

The rain returned. Fat drops pounded the barnyard, and thunder rumbled overhead. Joachim and Levi hurried to finish the chores.

Glancing at the upstairs window, Joachim thought of when he had first seen Sarah. Had it been only a few hours since their eyes had connected at the Thomin home?

He followed Levi into the barn. The two men spoke little as they worked, but the silence was comfortable, and the physical labor relaxed the tension in Joachim’s shoulders. Some of his earlier concern about Sarah evaporated, and instead of confusion, he felt a sense of purpose and right order.

“Your father is a gut farmer, but he is getting old,” Levi confided as he paused for a moment to wipe his brow.

“Datt planned for Eli and me to work the land with him,” Joachim admitted. “Now he needs to find help. You are good to aid him, Levi.”

“I help only when he is not in town. He is too proud to take on another person the rest of the time.”

Joachim nodded. “Yah, he is proud.”

“He will be glad to see you.”

“You are good to give me comfort by your hopeful words, but I do not think my datt will welcome me home.”

Levi narrowed his gaze. “You come asking forgiveness, yah?”

“I do, but my father and I must both bridge the divide between us. I will walk halfway. I hope he will walk halfway, as well.”

“Sometimes the son must walk farther, especially if the father believes he is right.”

Joachim pondered Levi’s words while he added feed to the troughs and watched the horses eat the newly offered grain.

Levi might think his father would be open to Joachim coming home, but what if his homecoming brought back too many memories of what had happened? Maybe when he faced his father again, Joachim would discover that he had been foolish to think reconciliation was possible.

Once the horses were fed, the two men rolled up their sleeves and washed their hands and arms at the water pump, and then ran to the house as lightning split the sky.

Joachim opened the door and hurried into the kitchen ahead of Levi.

Rebecca stood at the stove, holding a pie that she had just pulled from the oven.

“The storm comes again,” he said as he crossed the kitchen to the towel hanging on a hook.

He dried his hands, then glanced up as Rebecca turned to face him. His heart lurched in his chest, sending a new wave of confusion over him. He stared openmouthed at the Amish woman.

Not Rebecca. The face he saw beneath the white kapp made his breath catch in his throat.

Sarah.

“Rebecca provided the clothes.” Sarah’s hand wrapped through the fabric of the skirt. “Your sister said Victor would not recognize me like this.”

“My sister is right.” Joachim struggled to find his voice. “I did not recognize you at first glance.”

“You think I look like Rebecca?”

Her blue eyes reached into his heart. She was beautiful. Not because she was in the Amish dress or because her hair was pulled into a bun but because some of the pain she had worn earlier had eased. The lines that tugged at her face had lifted, and the open honesty of her gaze hit him anew.

“Joachim, you haven’t answered me,” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong and you do not look like Rebecca, but I am surprised to see you as an Amish woman.”

“Am I offending you?”

He shook his head. “You could never offend me.”

Levi hurried inside and stopped by the door to wipe his feet. Bewilderment washed over his face as he glanced first at Sarah and then at Rebecca, who stepped back into the kitchen.

“You are both staring as if you have never seen a woman in an Amish dress,” Rebecca said with a laugh.

Levi pointed to the stove. “I was wondering if you could spare a cup of coffee and a slice of pie for a hungry man.”

“Yah, of course.” Rebecca’s cheeks glowed with a hint of embarrassment. “But I have ham and cheese on the table, along with fresh baked bread. You need to eat something substantial before you have your pie.”

Levi smiled as he accepted the cup of coffee she offered. “You know what I need even before I do.”

The twinkle in her eyes warmed Joachim’s heart. Rebecca’s interest in the young man was more than evident, and Levi seemed taken with her, as well. Joachim was happy for his schweschder and hoped Levi would start the courting process soon. Perhaps Joachim could chaperone and take them for rides in the country. He would occupy his mind with thoughts of pretty Sarah in her blue dress and white apron while Rebecca and Levi chatted with each other.

If only Sarah was wearing the Amish dress as a woman of their faith instead of as an Englischer who needed to hide her identity and had nothing else to wear.

Joachim and Sarah sipped coffee as Levi ate the lunch Rebecca had provided. Although Sarah said little, her eyes took in the conversation he and Levi had about the farm and what could be done if his datt were open to accepting help to make the fields more productive.

“The Amish Market in Willkommen is a fine place to sell produce and baked goods,” Levi shared. “My uncle goes twice a week as do many of the other Amish farmers. The Englisch come from as far away as Atlanta. They buy handcrafted items, too—including woodwork. You could do well in this area, Joachim, if you opened a shop in town.”

He shook his head and laughed. “I am a carpenter, Levi, not a store clerk.”

“Yet you charge for your labor when you go house to house. How different would that be from selling chairs and tables and lawn furniture to walk-in customers?”

Although Levi had a point, Joachim saw only the folly in his comment. Once his father returned home and Joachim had a chance to talk to his parents, he doubted they would want him to remain at home. In fact, Rebecca would probably be chastised for allowing Joachim to stay in the house while their parents were out of town. There would be no point in Joachim staying in the area and opening a shop if he was shunned by his family.

Suddenly, his mood dampened, and the coffee tasted bitter in his mouth.

“You will have pie?” Sarah asked as she and Rebecca cleared the table once Levi had eaten.

Joachim nodded. “Only a small slice. There is much yet to be done. The fences need repair. The barn, as well. Tomorrow I will go to Victor’s house. Today, I will work here.”

“I’m sure your father will appreciate your help.”

If only that would be so, yet Joachim suspected his datt would be hard-pressed to appreciate anything his son did.

Sarah accepted a small piece of pie from Rebecca and carried it to table.

“Denki,” Joachim said as he took the plate from her.

She glanced at Levi. “I’m sure you would like pie.”

“Yah, but a much larger slice than Joachim,” the younger man said with a grin. He glanced at Joachim. “I must work for my father this afternoon, and tomorrow is the barn raising. Did Rebecca tell you?”

Joachim shook his head.

“The Byler barn burned,” Levi continued. “Samuel had wood delivered, and he has asked us to arrive in the morning. We could use your help, Joachim.”

“Of course. Samuel is a gut man. If he needs help, I will be there.”

As Joachim and Levi ate the pie, Rebecca wrapped cheesecloth around a second pie and tied the edges together. “I baked extra for your mamm. Tell her thank-you for the onions she sent yesterday. They were sweet and will keep in the root cellar.”

Levi smiled. “She will like to hear that her gift was well received.”

“Yah, of course, it was.”

“She always asks about you, Rebecca. You should come to visit.”

“Perhaps when Mamm and Datt return.”

“They will not be gone much longer?” Joachim posed.

“Only a few more days,” Rebecca responded. “But, Levi, I will see your mamm tomorrow at the barn raising. She will be there, yah?”

“Probably not. Her arthritis is bad, especially when it rains.”

Levi bid Joachim and Sarah farewell and accepted the pie from Rebecca. She walked outside with him, and the couple stood talking on the porch.

Joachim glanced at Sarah. She rinsed dishes in a bucket of water at the sink. “You will be all right here in the house with Rebecca if I am working in the barn?” he asked.

“Of course, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I was not worried.”

“Then you were concerned.”

“Perhaps,” he said with a shrug. “I know you were frightened when Victor drove onto the property earlier.”

“You should tell him to stay off your land.”

“Yah, this I could do. But that is not how a good neighbor acts.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Is it necessary to be a good neighbor to a man who is so hateful?”

“If I want him to think I have nothing against him.” Before he could explain what he meant, the back door opened and Rebecca returned to the kitchen.

“I am interrupting something?” she asked.

“No,” Sarah insisted. “But I am tired and would like to rest.”

Joachim peered through the window at the darkening sky. “Black clouds roll overhead. The storm may turn the day to night. Perhaps you will need a candle in your room.”

Sarah’s face tightened. She shook her head. “There’s still plenty of daylight. Besides, I don’t like candles.”

Joachim didn’t understand her comment, nor did he understand the fear that returned to her face and the way she clasped her hands together. Something about candles had set her off, but what? And why?

“Perhaps the oil lamp would be better,” Rebecca offered.

“I’ll be fine,” Sarah insisted. “The room has a window. I will awake before nightfall, if I can even sleep.”

Sarah grabbed her skirts and hurried upstairs. Her footfalls echoed in the house and made Joachim’s heart ache.

He had to let her go, but he wondered what the Englischer was hiding. Sarah feared Victor, but there was something else she feared.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.