BY THE TIME supper was over and the dishes were washed, Joanna began to feel she’d regained her balance. With nothing to be said or done about either Meredith or Noah at the moment, she followed Aunt Jessie’s example and settled down with some hand sewing.
To anyone else it would look like a boring evening, she supposed, with Aunt Jessie in her usual rocking chair, her head bent over the creation of an intricate floral block for the quilt she was making.
There was never a time when she didn’t have sewing to do in an evening, like most Amish women, but while Mamm was probably repairing a rip in one of the boys’ shirts and clucking over how hard they were on clothes, Aunt Jessie would be working on the quilts that were her passion.
Joanna studied her intent face. Much as she loved the quilt shop and the work they did, she would never, if she worked on it from now until she was ninety, achieve her aunt’s level of expertise.
But they made for a good partnership that way. Her aunt knew all there was to know about quilts, and she’d turned out to be pretty good at running a business. Probably Noah could use a partner that way, and it sounded as if Caleb was shaping up to be that person for him.
Spreading out the dress she was making for Cathy’s wedding, she took out the thread she’d matched so carefully on the trip to the big fabric store. That had been the day that Meredith came into her life.
Funny that her visit to the store seemed only yesterday, and yet she felt that Meredith had been part of her life forever. Time was a strange thing, depending so much on what happened in a person’s life.
A moment’s reflection told her that Meredith always had been, in a way, part of her life, even though they couldn’t have dreamed of each other’s existence. What kind of relationship had there been between Meredith’s father and her mother? Were they close as children? So many questions occurred to her, but probably not even Meredith would know the answers to some of them.
Her hands fell idle while she thought of Meredith, safe in her hospital room, and remembered her impatience to be gone. She could understand it when she tried to imagine how she’d feel in a similar situation. She’d be impatient herself, eager to get back to her life. But for the moment Meredith was surely safer where she was. The problem would be to convince her of that.
“That’s a nice shade of blue,” Aunt Jessie commented, nodding at the nearly completed dress. “Blue is not the best color for you, but this shade will be fine.”
Joanna smiled. “Exactly. That’s why I picked it out. With three women as different in coloring as Cathy, Rachel and I am, we could have spent months arguing about the right shade. Not that Rachel is likely to argue. Sometimes I wish she would.”
“Yah.” Aunt Jessie shook her head. “That poor child. If she’d stand up to that selfish father of hers more often, she’d be better off.”
“For sure. That’s what Cathy and I are always telling her, but Rachel doesn’t see it that way. She’s been hearing that it’s her duty to take care of her father and her siblings for so long that she doesn’t see when they take advantage of her.”
“It’s not gut for them, either.” Aunt Jessie was tart. “They ought to be standing on their own at their ages.”
Joanna agreed with her, and she wondered if that was something she should point out to Rachel.
“At least she’s out tonight,” she said. “She and Cathy were getting together to work on the dresses. Somebody has to be there to keep Cathy focused on the job—she can handle a classroom full of kinder but is completely ferhoodled at getting ready for her wedding.”
Aunt Jessie chuckled. “You and Rachel are fine side-sitters for her, yah? You’ll see her safely married no matter what.” She paused, studying Joanna’s face. “You’re wishing you were with them tonight instead of sitting here with me, ain’t so?”
“I don’t know about that. I would like to be in on every moment of getting Cathy married, but I couldn’t very well ask Chief Jamison to arrange for someone to drive me back and forth. He’s got enough to do with trying to find out who’s causing all this trouble. Besides, it’s pleasant to have a quiet evening with you.”
“Ach, well, you’re doing something useful while you’re stuck at home.” Jessie nodded toward the dress. “Are you doing a new white cape and apron, as well?”
“I think so. It seems only right to have everything new for a wedding. We wouldn’t want to embarrass Cathy.”
“True enough. But still, it wouldn’t be a wedding if something didn’t go wrong. I remember the time the groom’s friends decided to put his buggy on top of the shed at his bride’s house. A funny joke, they thought it, until they realized that no one had stayed to bring him to the wedding.”
“I don’t remember that one. What did the groom do? Who was it anyway?”
“Elijah Schmidt. You’d never think it to look at him now, but he set out to run the five miles to the wedding. His buddies did catch him and drive him the rest of the way. Their faces were red, that’s for sure.”
“I imagine.” She was diverted at the thought of staid, portly Elijah running along the road in his new black suit.
“Weddings always bring their share of trials, it seems to me. Sometimes I’ve thought it better when the bride is a bit older, like you and your friends.”
“Maybe so.” She kept her voice noncommittal, hoping Aunt Jessie wasn’t going to bring up Noah.
Her aunt seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and then she looked at Joanna. “You’ve always been one to push ahead. To go after whatever you want as hard as you can.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Sometimes,” her aunt allowed. “But sometimes getting to what’s best takes more patience than anything else. Sometimes people can’t be rushed.”
“I know.” She did know, even though it made her want to tear down barriers with her own hands. “That’s a lot harder.”
Jessie nodded in agreement. “Maybe the prize is all the sweeter if you have to wait for it.” A roll of thunder seemed to punctuate her words.
“I hope so.” They both knew they were talking about Noah, though neither of them would mention his name.
Thunder rumbled again, closer this time, warning of a storm coming. “I thought this storm was going to miss us since it took so long to get here.” Aunt Jessie started to lay aside her work. “I’d best check the windows. I don’t think anything’s open, but better safe than sorry.”
Joanna was already on her feet. “You stay there. I’ll do it.” She glanced at her aunt’s needle, memory making her smile. “Remember when Grossmammi wouldn’t let us sew when there was a storm, because lightning might strike the needle and hit us?”
Aunt Jessie’s rare smile seemed to go with her on her round of the windows.
There was no point in going down to the shop, since she was quite sure everything there had been closed and latched. She headed into the kitchen, where, sure enough, the window next to the range had been left open an inch. Rain was already spattering the windowsill.
After tending to that, she moved through the rest of the rooms. A flash of lightning hurried her steps, but nothing else was open. In her bedroom, overlooking the street, she paused to look out the window.
The rain pounded against the windows now and swept sideways down Main Street. Streetlights made pale circles on the streets, glistening with water. Normally, there wouldn’t be very many people out at this hour on a Thursday night, and tonight the streets were completely deserted. It was so dark that the lights across the street were just blurry images.
Suddenly, she caught something—some slight movement—at the corner of the building. She craned to see, not sure she wasn’t imagining things. Nothing there now, but the impression unsettled her.
Nothing to worry about, she assured herself. If anyone had gone toward the back entrance, the motion lights would come on. Even as she thought it, the back lights lit up, visible when she glanced from the doorway to the kitchen.
Hurrying now, she raced toward the window that would allow her to see the back step and anyone who was near it.
“Joanna, what’s wrong?” Jessie was on her feet in an instant, following her.
“I thought I saw someone outside. If I open the back window, I’ll be able to see—”
Jessie caught her arm. “Don’t. We should call the police, yah?”
“Just wait.” She freed herself. “It might be nothing, and then wouldn’t we feel foolish?”
The back window overlooked the area between the house and the stable, but she’d have to open it to look straight down. Fortunately, the rain came from the other direction. Joanna pushed it open and leaned out.
Someone was there, just approaching the back door. In another second the face lifted. Incredibly, it was Meredith.
“Just wait,” she called, interrupted by a clap of thunder. “I’ll be right down.”
“Who is it?” Aunt Jessie caught her arm. “Don’t go down.”
“I have to. It’s Meredith—all by herself out there in the wet.” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she opened the door and hurried down.
After a muffled exclamation, Aunt Jessie came hurrying behind her, talking as she went. “That poor child. She must be soaked and she’ll probably get pneumonia. Whatever were they doing, letting her out in this?”
Joanna grabbed the dead bolt, twisting it and then turning the knob. Meredith all but fell into the stairway, wet and shivering, saying something she couldn’t understand.
“Hush, hush now.” Aunt Jessie grasped her with strong arms, pulling her close. “You’re all right. You’re here with us. Just come upstairs, and we’ll get you dry and warm.”
It was the voice she’d always used with any of the little ones when she or her brothers had fallen or otherwise injured themselves. Somehow, it still worked. Meredith responded to her embrace and docilely started up the stairs, stumbling a bit, water dripping to the floor.
Joanna quickly took a look around, but no one else was visible. She locked the door again, hurrying up the steps in the wake of the others.
Jessie took Meredith straight to the kitchen with the instinct that said here was the most comforting place. Helping her sit, she stroked the tangle of copper-colored hair. “Just catch your breath. It’s all right.”
She looked over Meredith’s head at Joanna. “Towels and a blanket. Hurry.”
Biting back the questions that ricocheted through her mind, Joanna rushed to do as she was told. Aunt Jessie knew best. Even a glance had told her that Meredith was dazed, hardly able to speak for shivering.
When she rushed back into the kitchen, Aunt Jessie had already put the kettle on the stove. They helped Meredith out of the soaking jacket, wrapping a blanket around her while toweling her hair.
She looked up at Joanna, her face dead white, her eyes huge. “I...I came to you.”
“I know.” She kept her voice soft as if she was speaking to a hurt child. “I’m glad. But why did they let you out of the hospital?”
The ghost of a smile crossed Meredith’s strained face. “They didn’t.”
A spoon rattled against a mug as Jessie looked up from stirring a liberal amount of sugar into the tea she was making. “However did you do that?”
“And why?” Joanna added, her mind whirling with all the things that should be done. Call Jamison, call the hospital...
“Someone was trying to get into my room.” A shiver ran through her, making her whole body shake.
“Here.” Aunt Jessie held the mug against her lips. “Sip a little of this hot tea. It will help warm you up.”
Calm, above all, she had to remain calm, Joanna told herself as her mind began racing, clamoring for answers. Joanna patted Meredith’s back, wordlessly reassuring her. “What made you think that? Did you call someone?”
“I...I rang, but no one came. So I peeked out the door, but there was no one except the man sitting beside the door. He was asleep. I shook him, but he didn’t wake, and I was afraid to speak.” It all came out in a rush of words that seemed to exhaust her.
“You’re safe now,” she said. But was she? She and Aunt Jessie exchanged glances.
“I’ll call,” Jessie murmured, and slipped away to the stairs that led to the shop.
“You got dressed,” Joanna said, hoping to help Meredith along in telling what happened.
Meredith nodded, seeming to struggle to keep her eyes open. “I thought... I heard something happen down at the other end of the hall. Around the corner. Things falling, footsteps going that way. I thought someone was trying to get to me.”
A flash of lightning was accompanied by a clap of thunder that seemed to shake the house. Meredith gave a little cry, and Joanna put her arms around her. “It’s all right. It will move off now.”
Meredith clutched her. “I knew you’d help me.” Her frightened eyes held something close to panic. “But what if he saw me? What if I brought him here?”
“You’re with us. We’ll keep you safe.” But could they? If someone had been watching Meredith, waiting to catch her alone, he might well have seen her sneaking out of the hospital.
Aunt Jessie emerged from the hallway. A glance at her face, and Joanna knew she hadn’t gotten through. “The phone is out.”
“The storm?” Joanna hoped.
Her aunt shrugged slightly. In the momentary silence that followed, Joanna thought she heard something brushing against the plate-glass windows in the shop, and her heart jolted.
If someone tried to get in, if he was willing to risk breaking a window—who would hear in the storm? He must think he was running out of time to be so bold. What could they do?
There were three of them. Surely, they could deal with one man. But just the thought of a struggle turned her stomach. Meredith was weak still, and Aunt Jessie was getting older, though she wouldn’t admit it. Could they hold off a desperate man?
“I will go out the front,” Aunt Jessie said suddenly. “He won’t bother me—he can see I’m not Meredith.” She dragged on her black coat as she talked. “I’ll get help.”
“No, you can’t.” Joanna felt paralyzed, trying to think of a way to save everyone. “It’s too dangerous.”
“He doesn’t want me.” Aunt Jessie emphasized the words by picking up the huge black umbrella that would keep a whole family dry. “But he’ll be distracted. You can take Meredith out the back. Best put something dry on her. As soon as either of us reaches someone, she’ll be safe.”
Before Joanna could marshal an argument, her aunt had headed back for the shop. A tinkle of glass downstairs decided for her. She yanked her short coat from the peg and hustled Meredith into it, grabbing a thick sweater for herself.
“Komm.”
Putting her arm around Meredith, she urged her toward the back stairs. Meredith came along like a sleepwalker, apparently too shattered to object. This would work, she told herself. It had to.
The instant she heard the front door of the shop open downstairs, she hurried Meredith down toward the back. She just had to get them both out. She could scream then and run toward Noah’s door. It was only a few steps. Once they were out, they’d be safe.
As soon as they’d cleared the door, Joanna knew she was wrong. He hadn’t been distracted by Aunt Jessie, and already heavy footsteps sounded along the side of the building, audible even over the pounding rain.
Joanna hesitated for a moment, torn between possibilities, knowing she had to do something right now. Reaching up, she pressed the switch Noah had shown her, turning the lights off and plunging this side of the area into darkness. The footsteps stumbled, slowed.
Her arm around Meredith, Joanna pulled her quietly toward the stable, praying he didn’t hear them. All they needed was a few minutes in hiding. The stable would shield them, and by then someone would have come. Jessie would get help, or Noah would see that the lights were off and come.
The man was still coming, but more slowly, probably feeling his way along the wall. Single-minded. He’d given up all pretense now, no longer trying to hide. He would silence them, and they’d never even know why.
Shaking off the dread, she propelled Meredith into the stable. The horses, already stirred up by the thunder and lightning, stamped restlessly in their stalls, hooves thudding on the wide wooden planks. Princess whickered softly in recognition. Joanna patted her, praying for silence and darkness to hide them.
She hurried Meredith past the buggy, feeling her way. Even as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she couldn’t make out anything in the depths of the stable. Good—the darkness would hide them. Another step, and her foot bumped a bale of straw.
“Almost there,” she whispered, and felt Meredith nod. Good, she was hanging on.
Swishing ahead of herself with her left hand, still holding Meredith with her right, she found the bales, stacked four high in the rear of the stable. She felt her way to the end of the row and crept into the space behind them, pulling Meredith with her. The wall was behind them, the straw barrier in front. They were as safe as Joanna could make them.
Meredith shivered, her whole body shaking. Joanna pulled her close, wrapping her arms around Meredith. She whispered softly, hushing her even as the trembling began again.
“Shh. Be still. Help will come.” Noah would come. At his name, warmth touched her. Noah loved her. He would sense she was in danger. He’d come.
And if he didn’t? Second thoughts flooded over her in the enforced stillness. Should she have screamed as soon as they reached the door? But if she had, the pursuer could have been on them before anyone could come to help.
The softest whimper came from Meredith. She stroked her young cousin’s back, filled with love. Meredith was too young to be fighting for her life. She’d hardly begun to live, and they’d hardly begun to know each other. It was as if she held one of her young brothers in her arms.
How long? How long before help came? It felt as if they’d been huddled behind the straw for hours, but it could only have been a minute or two.
She listened, trying to hear any foreign sound beyond the rattle of rain on the metal roof and the restless movement of the horses. Nothing. Was he gone? Or was he lurking, waiting for them to give away their hiding place by moving?
He couldn’t have known where they’d gone. He might even now be looking down the alley, thinking they’d run that way.
Should she risk moving? Risk calling for help? Slowly, very slowly, she rose enough to peer over the top of the bales. There was the square opening of the stable, a paler darkness against the black of the stable interior.
The pressure built in her, compelling her to move, to speak, to do anything but huddle in silence. Then, even as it became irresistible, there was a whisper of movement and in the next instant a man-shaped shadow filled the doorway.
For a terrible second Joanna froze. Holding her breath, she slid silently down and out of sight. She put her finger to Meredith’s lips and felt her nod in response. Thank the gut Lord Meredith was still with her. She wouldn’t be surprised if the girl had passed out from sheer exhaustion after what she’d been through. But she was here, ready to...to what? Fight?
That was what it came down to. Already her mind, with the stable contents as familiar as her bedroom’s, reviewed anything that could be used in defense.
The manure shovel. It was propped against the post at this end of the stalls. But could she get to it in time? And if she did, could she strike another human being?
Turn the other cheek. Care for the widow and the orphan. Didn’t caring include protecting from evil? If the man got to Meredith, he’d kill her. There were no doubts in her mind about it. But could she hit, possibly kill, him even to save Meredith’s life?
A sound penetrated the dark silence—distant but coming closer. A siren, and nearer at hand, confused shouts. Help was coming. He’d run away, wouldn’t he? They’d stay silent in the dark—
Light pierced the stable, a small circle of brightness from a penlight. Instead of running, he was risking everything, probably in panic, with little chance of getting away. Even now he was moving toward them. In another moment he’d be there, shining the light behind the bales.
There was no more time. Desperate to protect Meredith, she dove from cover, heading toward the shovel that was the only possible defense. The noise brought the light swiveling around to her, and she prayed Meredith had the sense to slip out against the far wall. If she could keep him distracted, even for a couple of minutes, Meredith would be safe.
Hands grabbed her as she cleared the last of the bales. She swung around, struggling against the iron grip. Another foot and she could catch hold of the shovel...
But he had her. The light shot crazily to the loft, to the stables and then crashed to the floor, but he had both hands on her throat, tightening, cutting off her breath.
She heard him grunt and realized someone had barreled into him. His grip loosened, and then he was struggling with Meredith. With one hand he threw Joanna away from them. She collided with the post, seeing stars. He’d choke Meredith—he would—she’d never get there in time—
Her hand brushed metal, and she knew what it was. The shovel. Grasping the wooden handle, she pulled it free of its hook and swung it toward the dark figure bending over Meredith.
It connected with a resounding clang. He collapsed slowly, falling like a tower of blocks to the floor.
“Meredith—are you okay?” She groped for her. “Say something.”
Suddenly, a lantern threw the inside of the stable into bright relief, showing Meredith, trying to struggle clear of the man, who still grasped at her throat. Joanna raised the shovel again, but in that instant Meredith kicked her way free and a voice called her name.
“Joanna.” Noah’s voice. Noah’s hands, taking the shovel away and holding her tight.
More lights, noise, voices. The stable was full of people. Aunt Jessie wrapped Meredith in a comforting hug. Chief Jamison and another officer shoved the man flat on his face and pulled his hands behind his back. Handcuffs glinted in the light.
“Now.” Jamison sounded angered and satisfied all at once. “Let’s see who we have here.”
He grabbed the man’s shoulder and rolled him over roughly. Joanna gasped. The light picked out the usually pleasant features of Tom Watson, the Bristow family’s attorney.
Confused questions bounced through her mind, but then she and Meredith were being led away. Noah had her, and it was over.