Chapter Eleven

Nick carried a tray of dishes into the house and set them down on the counter next to the sink.

“Thanks.” Sarah grabbed a dish and submerged it in the soapy water.

The sounds of a sitcom floated in from the other room. Nick poked his head in to see Maggie on the couch with her feet up on an ottoman. “Great picnic, Maggie.”

She gave him a tired smile. “It was too bad the Zooks had to leave so soon, but I had a wonderful time all the same. Your sister is such a lovely girl. I’m blessed that a doctor of her caliber is right here in Apple Creek. She takes good care of me.”

Nick smiled. “Christina is very good at her job, and you are a wonderful patient.”

Maggie’s cheeks colored. He had noticed a change in her since her first day in Apple Creek. She seemed relaxed. At peace. Nick tipped his head toward the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a few more trays from the yard.”

Maggie shifted in her seat, as if to get up, when Nick waved his hand. “There’s only a few things. I’ve got it.”

Maggie smiled and sank back into the couch. “If you insist.”

Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Nick. She lowered her voice. “This was a great day for my mom. She needed something like this.” She turned on the water and rinsed the suds from the glass and placed it upside down in the drying rack. “It’s too bad our neighbors couldn’t stay. I haven’t been able to shake this horrible feeling since they left. I’m not sure why.”

“You wanted everything perfect for your mom. But she seems content. The picnic was, by all accounts, a success.”

“Miss Ellinor is lively conversation. And your sister seemed to connect with Mary Ruth.” She shook her head as if deep in thought. “I worry about Mary Ruth. She’s at a fork in the road. Sometimes I worry—despite my best attempts—that I’m a negative influence.”

Nick jerked his chin back. “I can’t imagine.”

“I worry that she longs to live a different kind of life. One with TVs and careers.”

“That’s her choice.”

Sarah leaned her hip against the counter and crossed her arms. “I know, but when I came here, I vowed to help the Amish without interfering in their way of life.” She shrugged. “Maybe that was an unrealistic goal. Just by being here, I’m interfering.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

Sarah turned back around and grabbed another dish out of the soapy water and began to scrub. “I had no idea that Amos kept such a tight rein on the family.”

“The Amish are different.”

Sarah grabbed a pair of glasses from the counter and placed them into the hot, soapy water. “Oh, I know. It’s just that Temperance almost seemed frightened. Like a teenager who had done something wrong. I would have never invited them to the picnic if I had known it was going to be a problem.”

Nick placed his hand on her arm. “You did nothing wrong. I know lots of Amish and Englisch who call each other friends and dine together.” He frowned, realizing he could no longer delay telling her what had been on his mind.

“How did Mr. Zook feel about renting this house to you?”

Sarah slipped the dish towel from the oven handle and dried her hands. She leaned back on the counter, her forehead scrunched in concentration. “I hardly know the man. It has always been his wife, Temperance, and their children who I see. Temperance told me they decided to rent out the house for the extra money.” She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t suppose the breadwinner of the family would feel too good about his wife thinking he wasn’t making enough.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“You’re not suggesting that Mr. Zook has been behind these...incidents,” she said, apparently for lack of a better word.

Nick leaned against the counter next to Sarah, a clunky white drawer handle between them. “I don’t think it’s likely, but it’s worth making note of.”

“It has to be Jimmy. Or someone Jimmy hired.”

“Unless,” Nick said, truly grasping at straws, “Mr. Zook found my presence here to be yet another bad influence for his impressionable children, even though my presence is completely innocent.”

Sarah crossed her arms and nodded. He detected a hint of pink creeping up her neck.

She pushed off the counter and pulled out a kitchen chair, the legs scraping loudly against the wood floor. She flopped down in it and stared at the dirty food trays stacked on the table. She bowed her head, and her long blond hair fell forward. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and comfort her.

He pulled out a second chair and sat in front of her, their knees pressed against each other. “I didn’t bring this up to stress you. Rather, I think we need to be vigilant. Maybe danger is closer than we thought.”

Sarah tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “You think I attract this many crazies?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

She ran a hand through her hair and laughed. “You’re the craziest of them all.”

* * *

The next morning, Sarah still couldn’t get Nick’s concern regarding Amos Zook out of her head. She watched from the front window until she noticed him leave in his buggy. She had cleaned Temperance’s tray—the one she had used to bring fresh corn to the picnic—and decided she’d return it as an excuse to stop over and chat.

Sarah told her mother she’d be right back and slipped out the door. Unease knotted her insides as she strode across the yard. Despite the heat, she chose to wear khakis and a long-sleeved top instead of shorts and a tank. If Amos happened to come home, she didn’t want to give him more reason to be annoyed with her.

If he was annoyed with her. Maybe both she and Nick had read too much into the Zook family’s quick departure from the picnic last night. Maybe it was simply as Temperance had suggested—her husband liked a quiet meal at home with his family.

She lifted her hand to knock when the door swung open. Ruben stood in the doorway holding his little sister’s hand. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I didn’t know you were there.”

Sarah laughed, but she felt like the joke was on her. “I hadn’t had a chance to knock yet. I was bringing your mother’s tray home.” She lifted her arm and offered him the tray.

“I’ll take that.” Patience reached up and grabbed the dish. She spun around and ran toward the kitchen.

“Thank you. Is there anything else?” Ruben asked, a curious light in his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Mary Ruth.”

Ruben immediately looked down and tapped the doorframe with his worn boot. He shrugged shyly. “I’ll find someone else. But Mary Ruth is going to have a hard time.” He looked up under the fringe of his bowl-cut hair. “Word’s gotten around that she’s spending too much time with outsiders.”

Sarah’s pulse kicked up a notch. “Are you referring to me?”

“You’re not Amish, are you?”

Sarah jerked back her head, rather stunned. She hadn’t expected such direct, rather rude, comments.

“Mary Ruth isn’t doing anything wrong.” Not that Sarah would guess. “She’s been working with me. Honest work.”

“The time for that has passed. She was supposed to be preparing for baptism and our marriage.”

Sarah pressed her lips together as she struggled for the right thing to say. Had she always been conditioned to search for the right thing to say? To smooth things over?

“It’s unfortunate that you feel that way. But—” it was Sarah’s turn to shrug “—like you said, you’ll find someone else. Mary Ruth will be fine.” Sarah felt a sudden need to defend her sweet friend.

Ruben twisted his lips, and a flicker of something flashed in his eyes. Sarah was about to ask him if she had somehow offended him when his mother appeared behind him.

Temperance’s gaze moved to the road and then back to Sarah as if she was worried her husband would return.

Sarah pointed toward the kitchen. “I returned your dish. Patience put it away.”

“Denki.” Temperance lifted her eyebrows in expectation. “Is there something else? I have chores to do, and Ruben was going to take Patience into town for errands.”

“Could I talk to you in private?”

A thin line creased Temperance’s forehead. “Is something wrong?”

“I’ll take Patience.” Ruben disappeared into the house, and Temperance stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

The floorboards of the front porch creaked under Sarah’s steps. “I hope we didn’t cause any trouble by inviting you to the picnic yesterday.”

Temperance jerked her head back. “Neh, Amos was tired after his day at the auction. Our calves didn’t fetch as much as he had hoped, so he was grumpy. Actually, the rent you pay helps tremendously right now.”

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Sarah struggled to read the woman’s guarded expression.

Yah, everything is fine.” Temperance reached for the door handle. “I’m sorry, but I have a lot of chores to do this morning. Please don’t give it another thought.”

“Okay.” Sarah lingered for a moment before realizing Temperance wasn’t going to open up to her. “Have a good day, then.”

The Amish woman nodded and slipped back into the house. Sarah strolled across the yard, disappointed the meeting hadn’t gone as she had hoped. Sarah stopped when she reached her porch and glanced back at her neighbor’s home. She had the unnerving feeling that someone was watching her.

* * *

Insisting that Sarah not be without a vehicle while his truck was being fixed, Nick rented one for her. Initially, she resisted. He had already done so much for her. But now she was grateful. She had to run out for groceries. Her mother seemed especially tired this afternoon, and Sarah didn’t want to leave her alone for long.

Sarah drove into the neighboring town and stocked up on groceries from a superstore. Tired yet relieved to have someone like Nick in her corner, Sarah made the drive back to her little home in the country.

The longer she was away from the house, the more she had a growing sense that something was wrong. She sent up a quick prayer that her mother was okay. Sarah hadn’t left her mother alone for more than a few minutes here and there since she had moved in with her in Apple Creek. She prayed that nothing had happened to her in the two hours she was gone.

Sarah parked in front of the house and popped open the trunk. She grabbed the bags and headed toward the front door. She fumbled for the key, but something told her to try the handle. The door swung open.

Her heart dropped. She had distinctly locked it before she left. Maybe her mother had come outside to sit on the porch and then forgot to lock it again.

“Hello, Mom,” Sarah called.

Silence except for the muffled sounds of barking.

She stepped into the room. Long shadows lingered in the corners. An episode of a familiar home-improvement show flickered on the corner TV set. Her mother was sitting in her recliner, her head angled in an awkward position.

Icy dread pulsed through Sarah’s veins. She set the bags down on the floor and untwisted her hands from the wound-up plastic handles. “Mom?” she called again, hating the fear strangling her voice.

Sarah touched her mother’s throat and said a prayer of thanks when she felt a steady pulse.

“She won’t be up for a while.”

Sarah’s head snapped up. Jimmy stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Sarah backed up and tripped over the grocery bags and landed with an oomph.

Despite the sharp pain that shot up her spine, Sarah scrambled toward the door. Jimmy reached it first and slammed his hand against it. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Her vision narrowed, a dark tunnel focused on his face. His mean, angry face. How had I ever been attracted to this man? His ugliness radiates from his soul.

“Don’t do this, Jimmy. Let me go,” Sarah pleaded, hating that she couldn’t mask the fear in her voice.

“Are you going to leave your dear precious mother? And what about that rat of a dog I locked up in the bathroom? You know what I’m capable of.”

“Please, leave us alone.” She fought to keep the panic from her voice.

“Your mother was thirsty, so I ground up an extra dose of pain killers in her water. Now we can talk without being interrupted.”

“I don’t want to talk.” Sarah jutted her chin out in a display of confidence she didn’t feel.

Jimmy tilted his head. “That’s obvious, since you took off without saying goodbye.”

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. Jimmy let his hot gaze travel the length of her.

“What? No thanks for looking out for your mother while you were gone and she was alone in Buffalo?”

Jimmy had stopped by to see her mother multiple times under the guise of checking up on her, but Sarah knew it was a ruse to find out where his former girlfriend was hiding.

“How did you find me?”

He stepped closer to her. “I’m a cop. It’s what I do.”

“You give cops a bad name.” She blinked slowly, the rage building inside her. “Leave me and my mother alone. She deserves to spend her days in peace.”

“If you didn’t rip her away from one of the top treatment facilities, she wouldn’t be counting down her last days. Some daughter you are.” She could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Nice try, but I didn’t believe your mother went to Florida for a minute. Keep asking enough questions, someone finally slips up. You can thank a new nurse who thinks I’m rather handsome.”

Sarah’s stomach knotted.

There it was, Jimmy doing what Jimmy did best. Persuading people. Trying to guilt her. But he wasn’t going to succeed this time.

Her sole focus was to get rid of him. Now.

“Since you’re standing next to the door, I suggest you leave,” she bit out, trying to keep her jaw from trembling.

“Or what?” he asked in a tone Sarah suspected he first began to hone during his bullying days back in junior high.

Once a bully, always a bully.

“Jimmy, I don’t want to be with you. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

He lifted his index finger and jabbed it in her face. “You humiliated me with my department.”

Sarah squared off her shoulders. “You lied. You cost me my job. My friends. My home.”

“You did it to yourself...” He took a step closer, his solid frame looming over her. “You can’t be happy here in the sticks. Come home.” His voice intended to be smooth, silky, convincing. Instead she heard it as grating, pathetic, annoying.

“I am home.”

Hope sparked in her racing heart. She’s home.

Jimmy let out a rough laugh. “Who’s the guy?”

“There’s no guy.” The words rushed out before Sarah could think things through. Mean Jimmy was bad enough. Jealous Jimmy was ruthless.

“Don’t lie to me. I saw his overnight kit in the bathroom.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you or your mother have taken to using a man’s razor and aftershave.”

Her mother stirred in the chair. Sarah struggled to look past Jimmy, but he grabbed her cheeks. “Look at me while I’m talking.”

Sarah batted his hand away. Her jaw trembled, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to get the words out. “He’s here to protect me and my mother.”

“From what?” Contempt dripped from his voice.

“You!” she screamed, losing patience. “From you! I’m sick of you terrorizing me.” She charged him and shoved at his solid chest. He didn’t budge. “Get. Out. Now.”

Jimmy reached up and clutched her arms and set her aside, as if she were a rag doll. “What do you mean? Terrorizing you?”

“You’ve been hounding me for weeks.”

Jimmy smiled, mocking her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t find your address until that dear, sweet nurse on your mother’s hospital floor blurted out where you were. Must have been the uniform that convinced her to tell me.” The smile slid from his face. Evil radiated from his eyes.

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been harassing me and my mother.”

“I only wanted to make sure your mother was okay. What, with you running off and all.”

Sarah’s pulse beat steadily in her ears. “Please leave,” she said, defeat edging her plea.

“Nope, don’t want to.” Jimmy plopped down on the couch as if he owned the place. “Why don’t you make me and your mother something to eat. I’m hungry. And get me a beer while you’re at it.”

Sarah slipped past him into the kitchen, not bothering to tell him she didn’t have any beer.

“Don’t try to call anyone or get any ideas. You might get away, but your mom won’t.”

Sarah pulled out a pot and filled it with water; her movements were on autopilot. She had no idea what she was going to make. Or how she was going to get out of this mess.

But one thing she knew for sure, she couldn’t leave her mother alone with Jimmy. He’d likely kill her just to prove a point.