Abram was on edge the rest of the afternoon after seeing Serpent. Even while grooming the horses and handling the afternoon chores, he kept watch over the house in case the kidnapper came searching for Miriam.
He had cautioned her to remain indoors, away from the windows, and to hurry upstairs if anyone knocked at the door. The house would provide protection. At least, that was his hope.
By evening some of his anxiety had eased and he looked forward to seeing Isaac again, and especially Daniel. The young boy brought joy to his heart with his innocence and wonder.
For too long, caring for his farm had sapped the life from Abram. When had he changed? he wondered, thinking back to when life was good. Easy enough to realize. The joy had left the night Rebecca died.
The weight of his grief had been too much to bear at first. Each night he had reached for Rebecca in his bed, only to find nothing; even the sweet smell of her had disappeared all too soon. Some days he couldn’t remember her face, which caused him pain.
After finishing his work, Abram washed his hands at the pump outside. He shook off the water and dried them on a towel that hung nearby.
Daniel stepped onto the porch and waved a greeting. “Emma said to tell you that the food will be ready to eat in half an hour’s time.”
“That is good. I am hungry.” He smiled at the boy. “I am sure you are, too.”
“Datt says I am always hungry.” His blue eyes were wide with innocence.
Abram’s heart tugged, thinking of the son he and Rebecca had been expecting. A child who had died in delivery due to Abram’s stubbornness and failure to listen to his wife.
Suddenly, Abram was no longer hungry.
“Tell Emma I must go to the barn first.”
“I will tell her.” The boy scurried into the kitchen.
A chill blew off the mountain and pulled at Abram’s shirt. He hurried to the barn, needing time to collect himself before he sat at table.
Bear greeted him but he ignored the dog, passed the horses’ stalls and headed to a storage room. Opening the door, he pulled back a tarp and stood staring at the cradle he had made for his child. The hardwood gleamed with oil he had painstakingly rubbed into the cherry wood. Each spindle had been sanded with love for the child he never knew.
He let out a deep sigh, wishing he could in some way go back and start his life again. Then he realized the foolishness of his thoughts. Mistakes once made could never be unmade; a truth he had learned the hard way as a youth. Emma still bore the marks of his mistake. Trevor’s death was all too poignant of a reminder, as well.
“It’s beautiful.”
He turned to find Miriam staring through the doorway. Bear sat at her feet.
“Did you make the cradle?” she asked.
“Yah.” Turning from her tender gaze, he replaced the tarp, stepped from the small storage room and closed the door behind him.
“Your workmanship is lovely, Abram. Do you sell your cradles at the market?”
“I have only made one cradle.”
She nodded as if filling in the portion he did not wish to tell her. “I’m sorry about your baby.”
“It was Gott’s will.” Brought on by Abram’s stubborn pride to live the Rule as he felt his ancestors had done with no deviation. If only he had listened to his wife. Rebecca had said he was unbending because of the mistakes he had made in his youth and his desire to prove himself to his father. Perhaps she had been right.
“Emma sent you to find me?” he asked.
Miriam shook her head. “She and Isaac are talking. Supper won’t be ready for a while. I’m looking for my clothes. Emma said they’re soaking in a bucket.”
He pointed to the opening at the rear of the barn. “You will find the wash bucket through there.”
When she started for the doorway, he touched her arm.
“You do not need to be concerned about your clothing. Emma washes at the first of the week.”
“The last thing Emma needs is more work. I’m perfectly capable of doing laundry.”
“By hand?”
She nodded. “Of course. Do you think I’m some type of prima donna who shies away from work?”
He shook his head. “No, you are industrious and determined.”
She stopped and looked up. He could see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes.
His heart raced and a tightness pulled at his gut. How could he react so strongly to her nearness when seconds earlier he had been grieving for his wife? He did not understand his response to this woman who had made his life seem inside out and upside down.
“You surprise me, Miriam Miller.”
She raised a brow. “Because?”
“Because I do not understand the Englisch ways. What is it you need?” he asked, recognizing the deeper meaning of his question. What did this Englisch woman need or want with an Amish man who lived a plain life?
“I need to go to Willkommen.”
“Quigley told me the roadblock will not be lifted until tomorrow night. The following is market day. We will go to Willkommen then.”
“I’d like to go sooner than that so I can contact Hannah.”
“You have remembered your sister’s cell phone number?”
Miriam shook her head. “No, but I can email her.”
Even if the roadblock ended, going to Willkommen would be dangerous. Did she not remember Serpent passing them on the mountain road?
“Day after tomorrow will be soon enough,” he stated.
“Emma mentioned Englisch neighbors that might have a computer.”
Abram raised his hand as if to cut her off.
She sighed with frustration then turned and hurried out the door at the back of the barn. Bear scurried after her.
Abram wanted to grab her hand and tell her he would take her to town this instant if that was what she wanted, but making such a dangerous trip would mean he was losing his mind as well as his heart.
* * *
Miriam had trouble eating her supper. The food was delicious, but the man sitting across the table from her was the problem. At least Emma and Isaac were having a nice time. From the flow of chatter, they didn’t seem to notice Miriam’s silence. Daniel sat next to her, equally quiet, although he kept glancing at her plate.
“You do not like the food?” he whispered, sounding much more grown up than his years.
She smiled, grateful for his thoughtfulness and relieved to have someone other than Abram on whom to focus.
“I nibbled on pie earlier and spoiled my appetite,” she explained, hoping to deflect his concern.
“I had a big slice of pie, but I am still hungry.”
“Growing boys need food.”
He nodded in agreement and then turned back to his plate.
“Do you want more potatoes, Daniel?” Emma asked.
“Yah, please. And a biscuit.”
“Son, you must wait until Emma asks,” his father quickly reproved.
“But she asked if I wanted potatoes.” The boy didn’t see the problem, which brought a smile to Miriam’s lips.
Forgetting herself, she glanced at Abram. Often pensive and solemn, tonight his eyes were bright. A smile curved his lips and caused her heart to skitter in her chest.
“My sister is happy to have a boy at the table who likes her cooking,” he told Daniel. “You can have seconds on anything you like.”
“You’ll spoil him,” Isaac cautioned.
“Not spoiled, but loved.” Emma placed a large spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate and a biscuit topped with a pat of butter that melted over the side of the golden roll.
“Save room for pie,” she added.
“Datt says you make the best pies in the whole world.”
Emma’s cheeks pinked. She glanced shyly at Isaac. “Does he now?”
Daniel nodded. “And he’s right.”
Everyone at the table laughed, even Miriam. Again she glanced at Abram and felt more than a tug at her heart. Her earlier annoyance melted like the butter on the boy’s biscuit. Abram’s laugh was deep and warm and engaging, making her want to stretch out her hand to touch him as if even the distance across the table kept them too far apart.
For a moment she forgot about everything except sitting across from him, enjoying the delicious meal Emma had prepared and shared with neighbors. The moment offered a reprieve of hope and warmth. If only life could remain like this forever.
Not long after that she realized her mistake when Abram hurried from the table after dinner to feed his animals and tend to his livestock. Was he fleeing from her?
Miriam washed the dishes while Emma and Isaac talked on the front porch and Daniel played nearby with Bear. She could hear his laughter as he and the dog frolicked in the front yard.
With the falling twilight, the house grew shadowed. Miriam wasn’t sure when Emma wanted the gas lamps lit so she continued to wash and dry and put away the dishes by the natural light coming through the window.
A car’s headlights appeared on the road, which caused her to shudder. Was Serpent coming back for her? At least Isaac was still on the property and Abram nearby. No reason for Miriam to be unsettled. But she was.
She placed the last plate on the shelf then glanced up and spied the rifle lying on top of the cupboard. Knowing it was there brought comfort.
Working quickly, she poured out the wash and rinse water and wiped her hands on the towel, ready to scurry upstairs if the car turned into the drive.
She let out a deep breath when it continued on at the fork, probably headed to Willkommen.
Emma had said the Rogers’s house was four miles away along the road that led over the river. She could easily walk that distance. If the Rogers had a computer and were connected to the internet, and if they didn’t mind her using their system, she could send an email to Hannah.
Although she knew Abram wouldn’t want her traipsing around the countryside, she needed to contact her sister, and if she left early enough, he might not notice she was gone.
Abram had ignored her mention of the neighbors earlier. She wouldn’t bring them up again. Nor would she ask Abram to accompany her. She didn’t want him exposed to danger. Instead, she could leave a note for Emma, if she could find paper and pencil.
Searching in a nearby basket of stationery, she happened upon a tablet and pencils. Ripping off a blank sheet, she took it and one of the pencils to her room.
She would need a good night’s sleep so she could get up before dawn. Abram rose early. She would have to be careful so he didn’t hear her.
Miriam didn’t want to disturb his life any more than she already had done. Serpent was ruthless and he didn’t care who he hurt. She could never forgive herself if something happened to Abram or his sister.
Her plan was to leave as early as possible in the morning. If she heard a car, she would hide in the woods.
Miriam wouldn’t let Serpent find her. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
* * *
Abram couldn’t sleep and it was not his wife he was thinking of as he tossed from side to side. His thoughts were on the beautiful woman who had sat across from him at dinner and kept her gaze lowered. Then Daniel had made her laugh.
The look she had shared with Abram stirred a cold place deep within him. Without stopping to think, he had laughed deeply, feeling the grief of the past slip away and a warmth and joy return that was restorative, like a spring shower or warm sunshine after a cold winter.
As much as he enjoyed the feeling, he was concerned by the ever-stronger feelings he was having for the Englisch woman.
What would the bishop say about Abram’s actions? The bishop would probably counsel Abram to guard himself from the fancy woman who would move on without looking back. He would also remind Abram that the Amish remained within their faith when they married. The only way his relationship with Miriam could develop was if she joined the Amish church.
Frustrated by the dead end he seemed to be facing, Abram rose from bed, slipped on his trousers and went to the window to study the night sky. The stars twinkled, causing him a moment of melancholy. Rebecca always said the stars were a sign from those who had gone before as well as a visible sign of Gott’s love.
Rebecca had said many things that were not what the Amish believed, but Abram had not countered her thoughts. Tonight he wished she would tell him what to do.
A dog barked in the distance. Abram stared into the night. Something caught his gaze.
Movement?
His neck tensed. A fox stalking one of his chickens? Or something more sinister? Hopefully not the man with a serpent tattoo on his neck.
Abram left his bedroom and quietly walked downstairs and into the kitchen. There he stared out the window at where he had earlier seen movement.
Opening the back door, he slipped onto the porch and breathed in the cold night air. His gaze darted to the chicken coup and the shop, then the barn and woodshed as if daring Serpent to make a move.
Standing deathly still, Abram strained to make out the various sounds of the night. An owl hooted. A rodent scurried through the underbrush. Again, a dog barked in the distance. Abram stared into the night for a long time until the prickling in his neck eased. He saw no other movement and only heard familiar sounds he recognized.
Turning, he stepped back into the kitchen.
“He was out there?”
Miriam stood in the middle of the kitchen with a lap blanket around her shoulders, her hair hanging free.
He closed and locked the door behind him.
“I wanted fresh air,” he said, hoping the excuse sounded plausible.
“I don’t believe you, Abram. You heard something.”
He shrugged. “I saw movement, but that does not mean I did not need fresh air as well.”
“Was it Serpent?”
“I saw nothing more than a movement that could have been a fox or coyote. Even a raccoon. I doubt Serpent could remain quiet for as long as I stood on the porch. You need not worry tonight. You are safe.”
“Thank you.”
“For listening to the night?” he asked.
“For protecting me. I’ve never had anyone care about my well-being.”
“Perhaps not your mother, but what of your father?”
“I never knew my father, and my mother thought more about herself than her children.”
Abram heard the hurt in her voice that could not be feigned.
“I am sorry, Miriam. A father provides love and support for his children. You missed that growing up.”
“I missed a lot of things that you have here.”
Abram stepped closer. “You mean the farm and the picturesque landscape?”
“I mean working with your hands and turning off the world. You’re not bombarded with messages and phone calls.”
“Yet I have few of the things you are used to in your life.”
She nodded and then stepped closer. “But do they matter?”
He touched her hair, feeling its silky softness.
Moonlight drifted through the window, spotlighting her in its glow. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips, full and soft, parted ever so slightly. She tipped her head.
More than anything, he longed to lower his lips to hers and drink in the softness of her skin and the heady smell of her. For one long moment Abram’s stable life titled off-kilter and all he could think of was how much he wanted to kiss her.
Suddenly her eyes flew open and she drew back with a gasp. “I’m sorry.”
Without offering an explanation, she turned and ran up the stairs, leaving him alone in the dark kitchen.
What was wrong with him? He never should have drawn so close to her or allowed himself such thoughts. A more righteous man would have told her to return to her room and not to worry about Serpent. Instead he had thought only of himself and his own wishes.
What did Miriam need?
She didn’t need an Amish man who could only offer her hard work and little worldly recompense. He had withstood the pain of Rebecca’s passing, but he could not endure seeing Miriam hurt.
Her needs came first.
Not his.
* * *
Abram’s almost kiss rocked Miriam’s world. All she could think of was how his lips would have felt brushed against hers as he pulled her into his arms and held her tight.
Then she’d opened her eyes, not knowing where she was or what she was supposed to do next. So she’d done the only thing that came to mind, the very thing her mother had always done when people started to get too close. Miriam fled upstairs to the protection of the guest room.
Standing with her back to the closed door, she dropped her head into her hands, expecting her heart to explode in her chest.
The near kiss had changed everything. Or had it?
The realization hit hard.
Abram hadn’t been thinking of her. He had been thinking of kissing his wife.
Miriam had acted like a fickle schoolgirl. He wasn’t interested in her. Why couldn’t she remember that she was wearing Rebecca’s clothing? The kitchen had been dark, which was even more reason for him to think of her as someone else.
She crawled into bed then jammed her fist into the pillow as she turned onto her side. Hot tears burned her eyes. Rebecca had been a lucky woman to have a strong and determined man like Abram love her so completely that even three years after her death he was still longing for his wife. Miriam felt like a fool. She would never make that mistake again.
Eventually she fell asleep only to dream about a tall Amish man who kept running from her. Why wouldn’t he stop so she could talk to him? Then she saw why he kept moving forward. He was running toward a woman in the distance.
The woman glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled.
He called her name but she wouldn’t stop. He called to her again and again.
The name he called out was Rebecca.
Even in her dreams, Abram was running after his deceased wife.