Bridget ran her thumb over the flat surface of a perfect skimming rock while Zach took a phone call on their after-lunch stroll. She walked a little bit ahead to give him privacy. She palmed the rock, gauging its weight. Being out here brought back carefree memories from her childhood when she and her siblings had finished their chores and then escaped to the pond. She tossed up the rock and caught it in the same hand, then zinged it across the pond.
One. Two. Three. Four. She counted the skips before the rock sank to the water’s depths.
An exceptionally good skipping rock combined with the right flick of the wrist had her looking around to share her excitement. She found Zach watching her, a smile softening the hard plains of his face. “Nice.” Zach flashed her a thumbs up, then checked the phone again. He had graciously agreed to go for a walk with her when she knew his plans to return to Buffalo had already been derailed multiple times. And based on the phone calls, he probably couldn’t delay his return much longer.
The knot of dread in her stomach had loosened a fraction, replaced by something she was afraid to identify. She hadn’t felt this kind of spark since Moses Lapp had courted her. No, not even then. Moses had been more persistent in pursuing her than she had been in being pursued. She had accepted the rides and his attention because Bridget thought maybe if she found the right partner, she’d finally settle in and do what was expected of her. Be the nice Amish girl.
Obviously, it hadn’t taken.
“You’re pretty good at that,” Zach said, stuffing his cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans.
“I’ve had a lot of practice.” She forced a nonchalance into her tone. She gestured toward the phone with her chin. “Sounded important.” She’d never get used to how cell phones had the potential to interrupt any of life’s moments. Part of her didn’t want Zach to tell her what the call was about so they could continue their outing and shut out the world for a little bit longer.
Bridget bent down and picked up another rock, then dropped it. She rubbed her hands together to get rid of the grit.
“I have some bad news,” Zach finally said. She closed her eyes briefly, wanted to stop this conversation, stop it from happening here where she had so many happy memories.
Bridget crossed her arms tightly over her chest to brace herself. Please, dear Lord, she prayed, not knowing what she was pleading for.
“Dr. Ryan’s dead.”
Bridget’s arms fell, and she rocked back on the heels of her boots. The news set every inch of her skin on fire. “Dr. Ryan? He was in jail.”
Zach took a step closer to her. He seemed hesitant before lifting his hand and gently cupping her elbow. “Someone got to him.”
A wave of nausea rolled over her. “Someone got to him?” she repeated, trying to figure out how that had happened. Her pulse chugged in her ears, making her feel disoriented. “How is that possible in jail?”
“I wish I could say it’s impossible. It’s not. People can be paid off.” Zach scrubbed a hand across his face.
“His poor family.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “His poor wife.” She shook her head slowly, feeling sick. “His sons.”
“The doctor didn’t deserve to die. No one does. Not like that.”
Bridget lifted her eyes to study his. “I started all of this...” A warm breeze fluttered her dress and made her shudder.
“You didn’t start this.” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “This is not your fault.”
She stepped back, out of his embrace, suddenly in a panic. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve put my family in danger.” You knew that all along. You never think. You’re selfish. The voice of self-doubt mocked her. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
Zach caught her hand and stopped her frantic movements. “You are safe here. You have not put your family in danger. You’ve done everything right. You came forward when you suspected Dr. Ryan. You did the right thing,” he repeated. “These drugs are killing people.”
The intensity of his last statement made her blood run cold. She locked gazes with his probing brown eyes. “Your sister’s death has given your life purpose.”
He never took his eyes off her. “I can’t go back in time and bring my sister back. But I can save other people from suffering the same fate.” He dragged a hand through his hair. He bent and picked up a rock, dropped it, then found another. He flung it, and the stone sank fast and deep.
His vulnerability drew her closer. “My father warned me—warned all of us about the dangers of the outside world. I never wanted to listen.”
“Do you really think nothing bad can go on here?”
“Not like in Buffalo.” Bridget slipped her arm around his back and placed her head on his strong shoulder. What if they had met under different circumstances? What if he didn’t live his life undercover?
Zach kissed the top of her head. “I never should have left my sister. Leann got involved with the wrong people, and my mother was helpless to stop it.” His solid chest rose and fell on a heavy sigh. “For all I know, my mom was the one who brought the drug dealers into my sister’s life. I should have stayed and gotten the both of us out of there.”
Bridget looked up at him, his face only inches from hers. She resisted the urge to reach up and run the tips of her fingers across the stubble of his unshaven jaw. He looked good. He always looked good, but she preferred him clean-shaven. Maybe because all the men in her life growing up had beards. A clean-shaven man represented the outside world to her. “Maybe you should go see her.”
“No point.” Zach smiled sadly. “I can’t forgive her. She’ll never change.”
Bridget shifted her gaze to the pond, not quite ready to step away from Zach. Tiny diamonds of sunlight danced on the pond’s small ripples in the soft breeze. “Forgiveness isn’t only about the other person. It’s about finding peace in your heart. If you forgive your mom for what you suspect are her shortcomings—”
“Suspect?” He interrupted, the single word sharp and accusatory. He stepped away from her. “I know what my mother was like.”
“Okay,” Bridget said softly, “okay. If you can forgive your mother for not being the mother she needed to be, it doesn’t mean you accept what she did or didn’t do. It means you’ve forgiven her shortfalls and can move forward in your own life without the burden.”
“Your grandfather was talking about forgiveness, too,” Zach grumbled. “Well, that might not work in the real world.”
“This is no less the real world than life in Buffalo. My family and my ancestors chose to live this way. Separate from the world. And considering everything that’s going on in the outside world, it’s not necessarily a bad choice.” The weight of her message had her lowering herself onto a large rock and stretching her legs out in front of her. “This whole situation with Dr. Ryan and the drugs is never going to go away for me, is it?” She adjusted her long skirt over her legs and studied her boots. “I’m never going to be safe if I go back to Buffalo.”
His concerned look said more than any words could.
“Maybe this is a giant sign.” Bridget held up her palms to the sky.
“A sign that, what, you’re supposed to move back to Hickory Lane?” Zach took a step back and held out his arms. She had definitely hit a sore spot.
Bridget dropped her hands into her lap. “Yes. It’s like God wanted to show me how truly dangerous the outside world was. That I should have never left the Amish. It was selfish of me to only consider my own wants.” All the thoughts that had been swirling around her head came pouring out.
Zach drew closer and crouched down next to Bridget, clasping his hands between his knees. “I’m not the best person to be talking about God and what He wants. I’m not willing to consider this forgiveness angle you’re trying to sell—” he laughed, a mirthless sound “—but I believe those who choose to go into nursing are hardly the selfish sort.”
Bridget lifted her gaze to meet his. “It’s hard to feel like I’m doing the right thing when my entire world is imploding.” She dragged her pinched fingers down the length of the string on her bonnet. “Maybe my life would be less complicated if I stayed here.” Was she just looking for someone to tell her what to do?
He gently tapped the back of her hand with his clasped hands. “Do you really believe that? Would you be happy?”
Bridget pressed her lips tighter. “Life is not about happiness. It’s about being selfless. About caring for others.”
“You’ve described nursing,” Zach said, his voice gravelly, like the small pebbles sliding under the heels of her boot.
“I’ve missed my family.” Sitting here by the pond, she could almost see her younger brothers horsing around, skimming rocks. Proclaiming themselves to be the winner. A hollowness expanded in her chest. “Until I walked into the coffee shop and met you, I hadn’t taken more than a minute to look up from my books. Now that that’s all been stripped from me, I realize I have nothing else.”
“You have me.” The openness on his face suggested he was baring his soul.
It was Bridget’s turn to smile sadly. “I don’t have you.” Her pulse beat wildly, making her own words sound faraway in her ears. She flinched, as if the notion was ridiculous. “Besides,” she quickly backtracked, “you’ll soon go on to another case. Your life is undercover. Pretending to be someone else.”
Zach jerked back, almost losing his balance in his crouched position. He straightened and looked out toward the water, then he looked back at her. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing? Pretending?”
Bridget lowered her head, heat stinging her cheeks. “We’ve known each other for less than a week. None of this can be real.”
Zach and Bridget walked back to the farm in silence. Her stinging words gave him pause. Were his feelings a product of everything they both had been through? Her carefully crafted world had suddenly spun out of control, and his all-or-nothing undercover assignments had sent him on a path of self-destruction a long time ago. He hadn’t been real with himself—with anyone—for a very long time. It took practice to suppress who you really were to pretend to be someone else when you were undercover. No one said he wasn’t good at his job.
Probably too good.
Had he reached for Bridget because he was drowning? Needed a lifeline? Wanted to know what it would be like to be a part of someone’s life? Someone who was so genuine. So real. But how was that fair to her?
“I thought maybe you fell in,” Bridget’s grandfather joked when they got back.
“No, I was enjoying the pond. I’ve missed this place.” There was a wistful quality to her voice that made Zach wonder if she were truly considering staying.
“I got seven skips the other day,” Caleb joined in enthusiastically. He and his grandfather were the only two still sitting by the picnic table.
“You must have taken lessons from your sister,” Zach said.
Bridget’s eyes widened a fraction, recognizing his compliment was meant to break the dark mood surrounding them ever since their heart-to-heart discussion.
“No way,” Caleb replied, oblivious to the exchange between Zach and Bridget. “I taught her everything she knows.”
“He did.” Bridget gently patted her brother’s cheek, seemingly lost in thought.
“Well,” Zach said, “I better hit the road before Jeremiah assigns me any more chores.” He turned to the elderly man. “Thanks for putting me up.”
“I appreciated your help today,” Jeremiah said, running a hand down his beard. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been able to climb a ladder.”
“No problem,” Zach said. He enjoyed the simplicity of the tasks and a job completed without any complications.
“I better see if Liddie needs any help in the kitchen,” Bridget suddenly blurted out. Splotches of pink blossomed on her cheeks. “If I’m going to be staying here, I need to pull my weight.” She clapped her hands together and bowed her head slightly. “Thanks for everything. I trust you’ll keep me apprised of...” she seemed to be searching for the right word “...everything.”
“Sure.” Zach hated how awkward everything suddenly felt. Before he had a chance to smooth things over, she spun around and jogged toward the house.
“Why don’t you go help your sister, Caleb?” Jeremiah suggested.
“In the kitchen?” He seemed horrified.
“Or I could find more gutters for you.” Jeremiah gave his grandson a pointed stare.
“All right...” The boy’s shoulders sagged, and he ran after his sister.
“I’m going to change and then head out.” Zach slipped into the dawdy haus and a few minutes later returned to find Jeremiah waiting for him.
“It wonders me why you’re so quick to leave,” Jeremiah said.
“There’s been a development.”
“Oh.” The older gentleman seemed to consider this for a moment. “I hope this means my granddaughter will be safe.”
“I’ll make sure she’s safe, sir.”
“Seems like a hard thing to do if you’re in Buffalo and she’s in Hickory Lane.”
The screen door slammed, and Caleb ran outside, followed by Elijah. The older brother grabbed a volleyball and lobbed it over the net set up on the far side of the property.
“She’s safe here,” Zach said.
Jeremiah made a noncommittal sound. “Bridget’s a lot like me. Not sure she knows it. I don’t talk much about my youth. She’s got a restless spirit.” He stared off into the middle distance, considering something, then he snapped his attention back to Zach. “She’s a good kid, and she needs to follow her own path.”
“Yes, I’ve come to see that in the short time that I’ve known her.” Zach swatted at a mosquito that landed on the back of his hand.
Jeremiah waved a weathered hand. “When this situation is under control, you need to convince Bridget to go back to school. Become a nurse.”
Zach glanced back at the house, then at Jeremiah. “That’s not my job.” He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate his interference anyway, especially if she didn’t believe it was genuine. Had he truly lost sight of himself with all the years of being undercover?
“Did your job require that you clean out my gutters?”
Zach laughed. Nothing got past Jeremiah Smucker. The screen door creaked open again, and Bridget appeared, drying her hands on her apron. She lingered a moment, then slipped back inside.
Jeremiah limped toward his little house. “Come in for some tea.”
Zach hated to refuse the kindly old man. “Don’t mind if I do.”
The two men settled in at the small kitchen table. Jeremiah was the first to speak. “When I was a little younger than Bridget, I left Hickory Lane. Made it all the way to Wyoming. Worked on a ranch for two years. It was beautiful country. Mountains. Landscape like I’ve never seen.”
“Why’d you come back?”
“Word got to me that my father died, and my mother wasn’t well enough to take care of the farm. Since I was the oldest, my siblings were looking to me to help.” He patted his thigh. “I had saved up a tidy sum working on the ranch. I came back and saved the farm, as they say. Started courting my Sarah...” He held out his hand in a sweeping gesture. “And here we are.”
Through the window, the men watched the young Miller boys by the volleyball court. Caleb spent more time chasing the ball than lobbing it over the net. Elijah shifted his weight from foot to foot in frustration or boredom, maybe a little of both.
“I’m happy I came back. This is where I was meant to be.”
“I don’t understand.” Zach took a sip of his tea, then set his mug back down. “You’re happy here. Why are you asking me to convince Bridget to leave?”
“Bridget is meant to be a nurse. She won’t be content here.”
Zach nodded. “Okay... I’ll do what I can once it’s safe for her to come home.” He didn’t know what else to say. “Does Bridget know about your adventures?”
“Neh.” Jeremiah palmed his pipe. “It’s something best not discussed. I need to lead by example. You understand.”
Zach nodded.
Seemingly satisfied, Jeremiah scooted away from the table and returned with two pieces of pie. “Figured you’d like something sweet.”
Zach picked up his fork. “Looks great.” The two men ate and chatted like old friends. After a while, Zach asked, “Do you ever wonder about the life not lived?” Zach often wondered that himself. How different would things be for him, his sister, his mother. Drugs had infiltrated the lives of all those he loved and changed them irrevocably. His poor, sweet sister had died of an overdose, and he spent a life pretending he was someone he wasn’t to catch drug dealers.
“There’s no sense in doing that at my age. I’ve had a good life. Gott had a plan. He’s blessed me with a wonderful family. I wouldn’t change a thing.” He smooshed a few crumbs that had fallen on the table with his finger, then dropped them on his plate. “I might have to deny this if you share what I’m about to say with the bishop. The Amish are a good people. A godly people. But I know in my heart that there are good, Gott-fearing people out there.” He lifted his hand, indicating the general “out there.” He smiled slowly. A wariness lingered in his eyes. “I love Bridget. I’d love her to stay in Hickory Lane, but I feel Gott has called her to be a nurse so she can help people.” He looked at Zach expectantly. “Did she tell you how she decided she wanted to be a nurse?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then you know how important it is.” He nodded his head slowly. “If it’s within your power, make sure Bridget doesn’t give up on that dream.”
“Not sure I have that kind of power.”
“I’ve seen you with her.”
Zach wanted to protest, but this man didn’t miss much.
“You care about her,” Jeremiah added.
“I do,” Zach admitted. “She’s an incredible woman.” He frowned. “I’m afraid our careers are going to take us in completely different directions.”
“They don’t have to.” Jeremiah’s matter-of-fact tone gave Zach pause.
Zach slowly pushed back from the table, feeling uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation. “It’s getting late.”
“You’re good company.”
“So are you.” Zach smiled. He genuinely liked Bridget’s grandfather. He’d miss him when this was all over.
“But you’re not very smart.”
Zach laughed. “I’m afraid to ask.”
Jeremiah reached for his cane propped up near the table. He made no effort to stand. “There’s an old Amish saying, ‘A man is never old until his regrets outnumber his dreams.’”
I must be very, very old. Zach kept the thought to himself. No sense spoiling a great day.