Amish Country Secret Page 3

  Emmie grabbed little Patch and swooped him away, Jed right behind her as they headed to the mudroom.

  “Micah?”

  Micah recognized the voice at the door. “Hold on, Isaac.”

  He opened the door to find Isaac Witmer and his wife, Rebecca, standing there. The older couple lived a mile or so down the way.

  “Kumm,” he said, stepping back. “Is something wrong? Did the storm do damage at your place?”

  “Damage to our buggy,” Isaac said, his clothes soaked. “We barely made it out alive.”

  Rebecca winced. “Isaac, we are all right.”

  Isaac put a hand to his mouth. “I am so sorry, Micah. I’m so frightened and shaken I was not thinking straight.”

  Micah patted Isaac’s shoulder. People were always thoughtful about his parents’ horrible death. “Sit and I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Let me,” Rebecca said, immediately touching her hand to his bandaged cheek. “I need to do something. I’m still shaking. I’m thankful we didn’t get blown away. Is your wound bad, Micah?”

  “It’s not too deep,” he said, worried about the woman hiding in the next room.

  “I can see I need to get busy with food,” Rebecca replied.

  Micah sat with Isaac at the long kitchen table. “So you were in your buggy when the storm hit?”

  “Ja.” Isaac combed his fingers through his beard. “We’d left the new produce market Tobias Mast set up. You know, it’s a co-op and he has booths available to rent. The weather report sent everyone scurrying. Anyway, I saw the storm coming and I had to unhitch the Percheron because he was getting out of control. Sent him trotting toward home. We tried to stay covered, but when we heard the roar we had to dive out of the buggy. We huddled in that deep ditch that runs along the curve. Seconds after we got in the ditch, the wind picked up the buggy and sent it flying.” Shaking his head, he said, “If I hadn’t let the horse go, he’d be dead now, I’m sure.”

  “But you were able to go into the ditch?” Micah asked, thankful they were both okay, but wondering what they’d seen. This storm causing vehicles and buggies to topple only reminded him of the day he’d been told about his parents’ accident. And that they had not survived.

  “We were past your driveway and about midway in the curve,” Rebecca said, nodding. “I might have dreamed I saw a red car ahead of us. Figured they’d pull over somewhere.”

  Micah had to look away. “I’m haven’t made it out to check much of the property.”

  “Did you see that pickup truck?” Isaac asked. “A big black one. It went speeding past us as we lay there in the ditch and watched our buggy collapse like a folded napkin. Almost hit the buggy even as it went flying.” Isaac shrugged. “Come to think of it, I don’t know where that truck wound up either.”

  Micah’s nerves tingled with apprehension. “I never saw a truck. I thought I heard footsteps running in my yard. It might have been the storm still raging.”

  “We watched the truck disappear around the curve right behind that red car,” Isaac said. “We huddled in a shallow ditch and held tight to each other. We waited until we were sure the storm was gone, then we crawled out of the ditch and hiked up here.”

  Isaac nodded. “Ja, we were worried about you. We saw some teens rummaging through some of the debris. You know John Kemp’s sons, Samuel and Matthew. Always stirring up trouble.”

  Micah knew of the Kemp boys. They’d been aggravations since they were wee kinder. Maybe they were the ones snooping near his house earlier. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he said, thinking he had no choice.

  “We’re all a little rattled,” Rebecca said, shaking her damp skirt.

  “Let me get you some towels,” Micah said. “After coffee, I’ll go with you, Isaac, to see how badly your buggy is damaged.”

  When he opened the mudroom door, hoping to get a towel and shut the door again, the little dog bolted out of Emmie’s arms and started barking at Isaac and Rebecca.

  “I’m sorry, Micah,” Emmie said.

  “Kumm out and see the Witmers,” Micah replied, grabbing two big clean towels. He couldn’t be angry at his siblings. It wasn’t their fault that a storm had dropped a beautiful woman who was on the run with a dog right into their laps.

  “What have we here?” Rebecca asked, her hands on her hips before she immediately lifted the barking dog up in her arms. “Did you two get a new pup or is he lost in the storm?”

  “Kind of,” Jed said, glancing toward Micah.

  Rebecca looked puzzled. “Kind of which one?”

  Micah turned to face Rebecca. “We found a woman hurt in a car. It might be the same car you saw earlier. She’s resting in the spare room down the hall. She’s still frightened. I didn’t want to alarm you. The dog belongs to her. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about it.”

  “Well, mercy,” Rebecca said, handing the dog back to Emmie. “You’ve had a lot of excitement here.” After taking the towel Micah offered, she started dabbing at her wet dress. “The woman—is she all right?”

  “She’s hungry,” Emmie said, shrugging. “I heard her and Micah talking about soup.”

  Micah wondered what else Emmie and Jed had heard. He gave Isaac a towel and was about to explain more.

  Tossing the damp towel she’d draped around her neck down onto a chair, Rebecca turned back toward the kitchen. “Maybe I can find her something to eat.”

  Micah glanced at Isaac. Isaac shrugged and smiled. Rebecca was a take-charge kind of woman and she had five sons and eight grandchildren. No one dared dispute her.

  This was getting out of hand. Soon the whole community would know he had a hurt woman in his house, a hurt woman running from someone dangerous.

  “Why don’t I introduce you to Samantha before you worry about preparing a meal,” Micah said. “Isaac and I can go and see what can be done with your damaged buggy before it’s too dark to tell.”

  He’d have some explaining to do to both Samantha and the Witmers. Right now, his friend needed help and Micah had a thousand concerns on his mind. He could only tackle them one at a time, so he had to start somewhere.

  * * *

  Samantha waited, holding her breath. She’d heard voices that sounded more friendly than dangerous, but she couldn’t relax.

  When a knock come on the door, her heart jumped. “Yes?”

  Micah leaned around the door. “I have to go help a friend with his buggy. His wife will stay here with you and the kinder. Do you mind that?”

  What should she say? She sure didn’t want to be alone. She also didn’t want to put anyone else in danger. Nodding her head, Samantha tried to smile. “That’s fine.”

  Before Micah could say another word, the door swung open and a plump, petite woman in water-spotted clothes stood there with a big smile on her face.

  Micah lifted his shoulders in an awkward shrug. “Samantha, this is Rebecca Witmer. She’s going to make you something to eat.”

  “Hello,” Samantha said, wondering what she should say to the woman. Hi, some dangerous people are looking for me, so run for your life.

  Before she could form a thought, Rebecca waved Micah away. “Go help Isaac. I’ve got this handled.”

  After Micah hurried out, Rebecca came over to the bed and touched a hand to the bandage on Samantha’s head. “Micah told us what happened. I know you’re frightened and maybe we Amish make you uncomfortable. Micah is a gut man. He’s been through a lot. His daed and mamm were the kindest people. Tragic what happened to them.”

  “What?” Samantha grabbed the quick silence to speak. “What did happen to them?”

  “A buggy accident,” Rebecca said in a whisper before stepping back. “A drunk driver hit them from behind. They were both killed.”

  “Oh.” Samantha couldn’t stop her gasp or the shock that ran through her. She’d assumed he had a girlfriend so
mewhere or maybe parents. To lose his folks that way was unimaginable. No surprise now why he’d frowned as she’d described what happened to her. Putting that aside, she asked, “He’s raising his brother and sister by himself?”

  “Ja, and doing a fine job,” Rebecca replied, her praise genuine. “Got all kinds of young women vying for his attention and he ignores them. Those kinder come first with Micah. Now, you rest and I’ll go and see about some dinner. Everyone’s hungry around here so I’m sure I can put together some sandwiches.”

  “I think that would do the trick.” In spite of her anxieties, Samantha felt at ease with Rebecca. “Thank you,” she said. After hearing about Micah’s situation, she felt she owed Rebecca a little bit of an explanation. “And, Rebecca, I used to be Amish so I’m not uncomfortable being here. I can’t stay so I’m concerned about my car...and...well...life.”

  That statement brought Rebecca back around. “Where are you from?”

  She had to be careful. “New York.”

  The older woman didn’t look convinced. “Who do you know here?”

  “Martha Byler.”

  A shrewd frown. “And how do you know of Martha?”

  Samantha couldn’t lie. “She is my grandmother.”

  Rebecca slapped her hand against her leg. “Dear, sweet Martha? This is a surprise. Martha talks about her grandchildren a lot. She misses them dearly since they live in Ohio. I don’t recall your name coming up.” She gave Samantha a motherly glare. “Did you fall out of favor?”

  “No,” Samantha assured her. “Gramma calls me by my first name—Leah.” Her life was one long, chaotic story, so she’d started going by her middle name, a rebellious decision that distanced her from her past. “I left by my own choice to help out my mother. I don’t know my uncle very well. He has two sons and a daughter.” She paused, thinking of all she’d missed. “I didn’t go through rumspringa or get baptized. I haven’t been Amish for a long time. I keep up with Gramma through letters and I always respect her faith and way of life.”

  Rebecca clapped her hands together. “So you’re little Leah?”

  “That’s me,” Samantha replied. “You probably don’t remember me.”

  “I remember the name since Martha does mention you a lot. She seems sad sometimes when she speaks of you.” Rebecca studied her in the same way Micah had. “Did you come to see her then? I know she’d love a visit as long as it’s proper and follows our rules.”

  Samantha didn’t push on that subject. She knew she would be accepted by her grandmother because she had been accepted in Gramma’s home when no one else wanted Samantha. “I was on my way to her house when the storm hit. Micah says she is away for the summer.” It wouldn’t help to tell Rebecca she’d come here to hide while her grandmother was away.

  “Ja, and she’ll be distressed that she missed you. Her older sister, Laura, is not well so she felt it necessary to go and take care of her.”

  “I so wanted to see her,” Samantha admitted. “Sometimes, you just need your grossmammi’s hug. I miss her so much.”

  Rebecca’s skeptical expression softened. “How about I give you a hug in her place and one day, you can hug someone else for me?”

  Tears sprang to Samantha’s eyes. “I’d like that.”

  Rebecca came to the bed and tugged Samantha into her arms. “Some sandwiches, and maybe pie?”

  Samantha could only nod. Rebecca smelled of lemon wax and goat’s milk lotion—just as her gramma used to. An ache hit Samantha in her heart. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Nonsense,” Rebecca said. “Gott brings everyone home sooner or later, in His own way.”

  When they heard a crash outside, they parted.

  “I wonder what that was?” Rebecca stood and went toward the window. Darkness from the storm and the dusk had cast everything into hulking shadows. The wind whipped in gusts and wails. “Maybe the storm damaged the roof and something fell off in the wind.”

  Samantha hoped Rebecca was right, but instincts told her they were in trouble. She sat up, waiting for the dizziness to hit her. Her head didn’t spin. She shook, whether from hunger or fear, or both. Her head pounded in protest like a hundred woodpeckers chipping away at her brain each time she tried to move. Her limbs shivered with a numbness that left her weak. Wishing Micah would hurry back, Samantha managed to hold onto one of the headboard spindles.

  Emmie came running in, Patch and Jed behind her. “There’s a big man walking around our yard, Rebecca. Englisch—and he has a gun.”

  FOUR

  Micah and Isaac had taken flashlights with them since the skies grew darker with each minute. They walked the half mile quickly, misty rain clinging to their shirts and pants.

  Sirens whistled from the town center, making Micah think the storm had done a lot of damage somewhere. His place was a mess but intact, at least. Thankful for that, he remembered how his neighbors had helped him build a new barn over a year ago. One that had survived this storm, thankfully.

  “I see people are out and about,” Isaac said as they came to the road. “I hope no one was hurt.”

  “Or worse,” Micah added, since he knew they were both thinking that. Funny, how careful people were around someone who’d lost loved ones. He loved talking about his parents and tried to do so often with the twins. It made the twins feel better and it sure helped him, too. It sometimes made others feel awkward. They didn’t know what to say and what could they say besides the same old platitudes? Gott’s will was sometimes hard to follow, but the tenets of his faith demanded it.

  The Amish accepted this. Still, the pain of loss was sometimes a palpable thing that chased at his dreams.

  Putting his mind back on the task at hand, Micah let out a sigh and surveyed the countryside. He couldn’t find the truck Samantha had described. From what Isaac had said, the truck should be near the eastern side of his driveway. Isaac’s buggy was on the western side, so he’d been behind Samantha’s car and the truck following her. Someone had to have spotted it by now.

  Had the two men escaped unharmed or were they injured and taken away for treatment?

  Fire trucks and ambulances came and went and cars passed, the people inside looking left and right at the vast swath the storm had taken across the fields and valleys. When they spotted their friend Jeremiah Weaver on the volunteer fire truck, they waved. Usually an Amish volunteer rode a horse or a motorized scooter to the fire. With this storm, Jeremiah had probably gone to work helping where he could and had waited for the truck to show up so he could hop on.

  Micah had known Jeremiah a few years now. He’d come home after being away for twelve years and married his sweetheart Ava Jane, who had become a widow while he was away. They were happy now. Jeremiah, however, had retained some of the Englisch ways—volunteering to fight fires and, after saving Ava Jane’s daughter from drowning in the deep part of the creek, teaching all the area kinder how to swim. Micah wished he could find someone like Ava Jane. He’d had lots of the local Amish women vying for his time. Nothing ever came of it. He hadn’t found the one yet.

  Samantha came into his head. He had to admit, she was pretty and she seemed smart. She was Englisch, though, and right now she was scared and holding her secrets close. He couldn’t have trouble coming to his house. He had to protect Emmie and Jed, above all else. He needed to get this done and head home.

  The truck slowed and Jeremiah leaned out of the passenger’s side window. “Is everything okay?”

  Isaac pointed to where his buggy lay in the nearby field. “My buggy is messed up, but Rebecca and I are fine. She is up at Micah’s house with...the kinder.”

  Micah appreciated Isaac’s discretion. He had a problem waiting back at home and he wasn’t sure how to handle it yet.

  “We can help with the buggy,” Jeremiah said after turning to tell the driver to pull the pump truck off the road. “We’ve checked on
all of our families and everyone along the road. A lot of damage and downed trees, but no one missing and no one hurt other than cuts and bruises, thankfully.” Nodding to Micah, he said, “I see you’ve got a bandage there. What can we do?”

  Isaac looked at the darkening sky. “Help us upright the buggy and see how bad the damage is?”

  Jeremiah nodded at the request, then he and the two men with him got out of the truck.

  “Any automobile accidents?” Micah asked.

  “A couple,” Jeremiah replied. “Another buggy with a bent tire rim and a pickup truck about a quarter mile from here. Abandoned. It’ll take a tow truck to pull that thing out of the big ditch—just as you exit Green Mountain Road.”

  “Told you a truck passed us,” Isaac said to Micah.

  Micah kept his expression neutral. “No idea of who was in it?”

  “Neh,” Jeremiah replied. “I hope they were able to walk away. Let’s have a look at your buggy, Isaac.”

  Micah’s heart pumped fear along with adrenaline. He had to get back to his house. Those two men could have been on his property when he went out to Samantha’s car and brought her inside. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t helped her. He couldn’t get the sound of those stomping footsteps he’d heard out of his head.

  He couldn’t leave Isaac and the others without offering help either. When two horses came trotting up, he recognized Samuel and Matthew Kemp. They hopped off their horses and hurried up.

  “We can help,” Samuel said, his expression more of a smirk than a smile.

  “Then kumm,” Isaac said, giving Micah a concerned glance. “We need all the help we can get.”

  Matthew and Samuel marched along with them, asking questions as they went. Did they see the storm? Had they heard a truck was in the ditch?

  Inquisitive and impulsive, Micah thought. Were they here to help or make trouble? They were mostly known for that.

  As the men slushed through the field toward the buggy, Micah stared off in the distance. Isaac noticed his distraction. “Are you worried about something, Micah?”