THE DRIVE BACK to the shop passed in a blur. It was a good thing Princess knew the way, because Joanna found herself unable to concentrate on anything. Why couldn’t she put her practical common sense to work? Problems always had solutions. But she couldn’t even focus on any one aspect of what she’d heard tonight. If she’d been picked up by a tornado and set down miles from home, she couldn’t be more disoriented.
Thank the good Lord that Aunt Jessie had decided to stay with Mamm tonight. If she’d been sitting next to her in the buggy, she’d have wanted to talk, and Joanna felt as if she’d scream at the prospect.
She’d reached the outskirts of town, passing the greenhouses on her left and heading on down Main Street.
Princess turned automatically into the alley when they reached it. When her family had bought the buggy horse for her, Daad had pointed out that Princess was hardly the right name for an Amish buggy horse. But unlike most horses, who didn’t care what they were called as long as they were fed and cared for, this mare had a definite opinion. If called anything else, she turned a deaf ear, so Princess she had stayed.
The new lights came on, showing her the area, and she drove directly to the stable. Princess seemed to share her desire for speed, and in a few minutes, she was in her stall, munching contentedly on her oats. Joanna hung up the harness automatically, switched off the battery light in the stable and started toward the back door.
And stopped. The back door hung open, and she could see the damage to the lock from where she stood. Her heart pounded, her breath caught and for an instant she stood frozen, staring at the door. She had to do something. No lights were on in the hardware store, so Noah wasn’t there to rush to for help. She didn’t dare try to reach the phone in the shop. The intruder might be in there.
Softly, fearing he might hear the slightest sound, Joanna crept back to the alley, the movement taking her beyond the range of the lights. The alley lay dark between her and the streetlamps out on Main Street, but she’d have to go that way to get to lights and help.
Joanna glanced back toward the stable. It looked like a sanctuary, but it could just as easily be a trap. If the intruder saw her...
He was probably already gone, she assured herself. He’d have heard the horse and buggy arrive and slipped out.
But what if he hadn’t? What if he was waiting for her? She seemed to see her visitor being struck down on the stairs. No, she couldn’t risk going in.
Steeling herself, she stepped into the alley, moving from the light into the dark. Shadows seemed to lurk in the darkness on either side of her. Someone could be there, hidden where she couldn’t see.
She fingered the penlight she clutched. If she switched it on, she could see. But anyone who was watching would be able to see her, too. That was even more frightening. The shadows seemed to grow even denser as she went on. She was torn between running to get there faster and creeping so that she wouldn’t give away her presence.
But if someone was still inside, he’d know she was there—he’d surely have seen the lights go on. Stricken with panic at the thought, she spurted toward the street, dashing out of the alley into the light. Streetlights glowed, but Main Street was silent, the businesses closed, except—
The coffee shop—it was open. She darted across the street, racing toward the welcoming lights of Miller’s Bakery and Coffee Shop. Etta Miller stayed open later than anyone else in town, pointing out that people wanted coffee and sweet rolls at any hour.
Reaching the shop, Joanna yanked the door open and stumbled inside, welcoming the sound of the bell that announced her. Etta appeared behind the counter, took one look at her and came hurrying to put an arm around her.
“Joanna, whatever is it? Are you sick?” Etta’s rosy, round face seemed for a moment to be getting larger and larger.
Joanna shook her head, brushing off the momentary dizziness and grateful that Etta was alone. “I’m all right, but someone has broken into our place. I have to call the police.”
“Ach, that’s bad.” Etta seized the phone, punching in 911. As a Mennonite, she didn’t have any compunction over using the phone, unlike Aunt Jessie, who always wanted to be certain sure that any call made on their phone was business.
Etta thrust the phone into her hand, and it took only moments to gasp out the facts—coming home alone, finding the back door broken in. Someone would be right there, the dispatcher said. The command not to go inside until they came was really not necessary. Nothing would induce Joanna to go in until she knew it was safe.
As soon as she hung up, Etta grasped her arm. “It will be all right now. I just hope they didn’t cause a lot of damage. You sit and I’ll bring you coffee.”
She was already shaking her head. “Denke, Etta, but the woman said to wait outside for them.”
Etta looked reluctant to let go. “All right, but you stay right there where I can see you. Is there anyone you want me to call? Your mamm and daad?”
She couldn’t say no fast enough. “Don’t call them, whatever you do. Mamm is sick tonight so Aunt Jessie is staying with her. A call at this hour would make things worse.”
That might not have entirely made sense, but Etta seemed to accept it. Eager now to be outside when the police came, Joanna hurried out, crossing the street again to stand right under the streetlamp.
The lights were still off in Noah’s store, making her wonder if the thief might have been in there, as well. She looked through the plate-glass window, but it was too dark to see if anything was amiss. Should she check the door?
She hung back, almost afraid to find something else wrong, and the police car pulled up, making the decision for her. The officer who jumped out was the same young man who’d come before, and he strode toward her, switching on a powerful flashlight.
“Now, you stay well away, miss. I’ll go around back and check on the break-in site. Chief Jamison is on the way, so don’t you come any closer until one of us tells you to.”
Not waiting for an answer, he jogged toward the alley as if eager to find trouble. Joanna pulled her sweater more tightly around her and tried to ignore the chilly air. Now that the police were in charge, her fear had gone, but it was almost as bad to stand there and wonder what damage had been done.
Fortunately, before she could picture the apartment trashed, the display quilts slashed to ribbons, and the bolts of material splashed with paint, Etta Miller appeared with a thermos and a bag containing cups, spoons and sugar.
“Now you’ll have some coffee to warm you up, and it’ll be here for the police, if they want it. And I’ll keep you company in the meantime.”
She wrapped her fingers gratefully around the cup Etta handed her and accepted sugar. “It’s wonderful gut of you, Etta. But you must want to get home to your husband.”
“Fred? He’s watching from the bedroom window upstairs right now. He’d be upset if I didn’t stay here with you. Besides, he’ll want to hear all about it.”
Joanna had to smile at that. Fred Miller didn’t mind everyone knowing that he was a walking encyclopedia of everything that happened in town—better than the newspaper, he claimed.
Etta seemed to echo the thought. “He’ll probably be dressed and out in a minute. It’s the most exciting thing that’s happened all month. I hope it’s not vandals. I’d much rather lose money than have my place damaged.”
Joanna shivered. “That’s just what I was thinking, too. I have no idea. I just saw that the back door was broken and came running to your place.”
“Much the best thing you could do, that’s certain sure.” Etta sipped at her own coffee. “I’m so sorry to hear your mother is sick.”
Etta’s expression was an invitation for her to confide in her, something she certainly wasn’t going to do.
“I wanted to stay, because Daad and the boys are no use when Mamm doesn’t feel well, but Aunt Jessie said Mamm would be more likely to stay in bed and listen to her big sister than to her daughter.”
Daughter. She repeated the word to herself. She wasn’t Mamm’s daughter, not really. Still, she’d grown up knowing she was adopted, and she’d...
The knowledge hit her. She couldn’t possibly be adopted, not legally. Mamm and Daad wouldn’t have dared to attempt it, because they’d have to present papers they didn’t have.
She pressed her fingers to her head, wishing that Etta would stop watching her. If she could talk this all out with someone who wasn’t family...but that someone couldn’t possibly be Etta, who helped Fred collect and distribute gossip every day along with her crullers and coffee.
Before Etta could embark on another attempt to gather information, Chief Jamison pulled up in his car. The doors opened, and she realized he had Noah with him.
A ridiculous surge of pleasure went through her at the sight, and she scolded herself. There was nothing to smile about at this point, and she should be focused on Chief Jamison, not Noah. But when Noah came quickly to her side, he brought reassurance with him, and when he caught her hand and squeezed it, she felt a rush of gratitude for his friendship.
JOANNA WAS CLEARLY rattled by the break-in, and Noah longed to continue holding her hand, but he saw Etta Miller watching them, and knew he shouldn’t. So he let go of her hand, but continued to stand close to her, wishing he could do more.
“Are you all right?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to share their conversation with Etta or the chief.
She nodded, trying to force a smile and not succeeding. “No one was in the hardware store, so I had to go over to Etta’s for help.”
He felt instantly guilty. “I wish I’d been here. Sorry.”
“Ach, don’t think that. How did you come to be with Chief Jamison?”
“He came by the house to let me know about the break-in. He figured if your shop had been robbed, most likely mine was, as well.”
The chief was having a low-voiced conversation with his officer, watched intently by Etta, and then they both went around to the back. “I wish they’d let us go in to see what damage has been done,” Joanna fretted.
“We’ll know soon enough,” he said, mentally calculating how much money he’d left in the shop.
“They’ll be wanting to check for fingerprints and all that.” Etta inserted herself into the conversation. “They won’t want you in there until they’re finished.”
“I hope they hurry.” Joanna rubbed her arms, probably chilled in the night air. If he’d come in his buggy, he’d have a blanket in the back.
He glanced at Etta. “I think Joanna is cold. Would you have a sweater or a blanket handy?”
“Ach, yah. What am I thinking?” She headed back across the street, moving lightly for someone who weighed what she must. “Be right back.”
“I don’t need...” Joanna began.
“Yah, you do.” His lips quirked. “I don’t think your independence is damaged by accepting help when someone wants to offer it. Ain’t so?”
Her returning smile was rueful. “I’m not that prickly, am I? Okay, I am a little chilly. Or maybe just upset.”
“Some of each,” he said, his attention distracted by the movement of a flashlight inside his store. “Where’s your aunt? Wasn’t she home tonight?”
Oddly, Joanna actually lost color at the question. “No, she...she’s at the farm. I just came from there, but Mamm wasn’t feeling well, so Aunt Jessie decided to stay with her.”
He studied Joanna’s face, wondering what else was behind that statement. It would have been more natural for her to stay with her mamm, surely. Especially when she was so obviously concerned.
But she didn’t offer anything more, and he didn’t think a question on that subject would be welcome.
Etta bustled up to them and wrapped a heavy sweater around Joanna over the one she had on. Etta’s sweater was big enough to fit around Joanna’s slim figure at least twice, and Etta laughed, good-natured about her size. “Good thing I’m as big as I am. You need the extra warmth. And don’t you think about sleeping in your apartment tonight. There’s a bed for you at our place, so you just come over when you’re ready.”
Joanna managed a smile with some words of thanks, but she was obviously becoming restless, moving from one foot to the other.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I think I hear them coming now.”
Sure enough, the two officers came around the building. Jamison appeared to be giving instructions to the younger man, who nodded and hurried off to the car, reappearing a moment later with a camera. He went back around the building carrying it, and Jamison came to them.
“They got into both places, I’m afraid.”
Noah nodded. It was what he’d expected. “They?”
“No way to know at this point if it was more than one, but vandals usually run in packs. Whichever, at least there wasn’t much damage, so you don’t need to worry about that.” He turned to Joanna. “Let’s go into your place first while Donovan takes some photos in the hardware store.”
Noah decided to interpret that invitation to include him, and he stayed behind Joanna as she unlocked the front door of the shop. She hesitated for a moment, and he moved a little closer. They stepped into the darkness together.
Jamison flashed his torch around, holding it on the light fixture while Noah pumped it and turned it on. Joanna seemed to hold her breath while she looked around. To his eyes, the shop’s contents were disturbed, but not damaged. Various drawers had been pulled open, and one lay on the floor. Some bolts of fabric had fallen from the tables, but they didn’t even look dirty, much less ruined by paint.
Joanna surveyed it all and seemed more relieved than anything. Probably, like him, she’d feared to find open vandalism. Vandals had hit the Eschs’ harness shop two years earlier, leaving machines damaged, leather slashed and hateful messages painted on the walls. They’d all seen it, and he supposed most Amish would have trouble getting that vision out of their heads.
Chief Jamison had caught up with the vandals, though—boys in their late teens from a suburban area near the closest large town. As far as he knew, they were in a detention facility now.
Joanna had moved behind the counter. She reached toward the cash box, but Jamison put out a hand to prevent her. “Don’t touch it just yet. I’d like a couple of photos as it is. Do you know how much cash was in there?”
“Aunt Jessie left after I did, but she’d have put in what we always do to start the day—about three hundred in different denominations.”
“I’ll need to talk to her, but tomorrow will do. Any other cash around?”
She nodded. “There’s more cash in a locked box in Aunt Jessie’s bedroom. Did they get in there?”
“Looks like they just went through the apartment to come down the stairs into the shop.” He gestured toward the staircase that led to the second floor. “I had a quick look upstairs, but nothing looked out of place.”
Joanna winced, and Noah could feel her concern about her home. Anyone would be upset about the idea of strangers in their home. He thought about the farmhouse that had been home since he was born, and his stomach turned at the idea.
“Maybe Joanna should have a look upstairs, just to be sure.”
Jamison studied Joanna’s face. It looked as if he thought she might not be up to it. Noah felt sure he was wrong. Joanna was a strong woman. She’d be upset, but she’d do what she had to do.
Still, he sensed something else, something behind the surface anxiety about the shop, and he wondered.
Jamison considered for a moment. “I want Joanna to check the back room first, just to be sure nothing’s missing. Why don’t you head over to your place and talk to the patrolman about what’s missing?”
He’d rather stay here in case Joanna needed him, but that would draw attention to feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge. So he gave Joanna a look of silent sympathy and left.
IT SEEMED TO take forever for the police to finish up what they were doing, and Joanna felt herself begin to sag. Not surprising, was it? The past few hours had been the most stressful of her life. First, the knowledge that she wasn’t who she’d thought she was, and then the invasion of her home and business—the foundations of her world rocked beneath her.
She was Amish, even if her birth parents hadn’t been, even if Mamm and Daadi weren’t blood kind. To be Amish meant knowing who you were and what your place was in the world. It meant a life bounded by the church, the home and the family. To have two of the three attacked in one evening was unthinkable, and yet she had to think about it. She had to cope.
With Jamison accompanying her, she’d checked the back room,
Where the situation was the same as the store itself—disturbed but not vandalized. Again, drawers had been pulled out and boxes opened, but nothing seemed to be missing.
A quick look upstairs hadn’t revealed any problems, but Jamison hadn’t let her check more closely, saying he needed photographs first.
Suggesting she wait down in the back room, the chief directed his patrolman’s photography. The room was quiet, but hardly restful. She was torn between exhaustion and a nervous energy that needed an outlet.
Hearing noises on the back stairs, she went to see who was coming now. If it was more police...
But it was Noah, carrying a toolbox and coming toward her. “I thought I’d best board up the doors for the night. The chief says it’s all right to do it now. Okay if I do both doors at the back? Then we can go out through the front.”
“Yah, that’s gut. Denke, Noah. I hadn’t even thought about that yet. I don’t know where my wits have gone.”
“It’s been a shock.” His voice went deep with sympathy. “I’m feeling a bit ferhoodled myself, and I didn’t walk in and find the break-in.”
If that was all she had to stress her, she’d consider herself fortunate, but Noah didn’t know. She tried to smile with a little success. “Can I help you with the doors?”
“Ya, gut. You can hold the boards in place while I hammer. Let’s do the outside door first.”
They both knew he’d be able to do it alone. He probably thought keeping her busy was for the best. Well, he was right. She followed him to the doors.
Noah had left several boards on the bottom steps. He put one in place near the top of the door, and she placed her hands on it to hold it stationary. She and Noah were so close in the confined space that she could hear his breath and almost feel the tightening of his muscles as he lifted the hammer.
The first blow made her wince, and she had to steady herself. She couldn’t let what had happened make her jump at every sound.
“Was the cash Jessie had still there?”
His question reminded her that he’d been in the hardware store while she’d accompanied Chief Jamison upstairs.
“Yah. The change that had been out in the open in a jar on the kitchen counter was gone, but they didn’t appear to have looked under the bed.”
He chuckled. “Jessie will be relieved by that. I’d guess they were intent on the shop receipts and didn’t bother much with the apartment.”
“Thank the gut Lord for that blessing. I’d hate to think of some stranger going through my clothes.”
“I don’t suppose Amish clothing would be much use to him.”
To Joanna’s surprise, she actually smiled at the thought. It seemed Noah had been right. Staying busy was better than sitting and thinking.
With the first board finished, Noah picked up another. “Two should be enough, I think. Doesn’t seem likely they’d come back, but you don’t want the door hanging open for anyone to see.” He darted a glance at her, and she could read concern there even in the dim light that came down the stairs. “You’re going to Etta’s for the night, yah? Or if you want to go home, I expect the chief would take you.”
“No, not back to the farm,” she said quickly. “Mamm isn’t feeling well, and I don’t want to disturb her by coming back. She’d be sure to wake at someone coming in this late.” And she might start the crying that had ripped at Joanna’s heart.
Noah put in a final nail to keep the door closed, and then he followed her to the top of the stairs. Stepping into the hallway, he closed the door, taking a closer look at the broken lock.
Joanna ran her fingers down the scraped wood frame. “I think we’ll be able to smooth this down and repaint it.” It had been easy, she thought. Easy for someone to open the door and come right into her home.
“I’d say so.” Noah was already fitting a piece of wood in place. “You can see where he put something like a pry bar in and just popped it open. You ought to have a chain or a dead bolt on the doors. I’ll take care of it for you.”
“Denke, Noah.” That reminded her of Daad’s reaction. “Daad wants to pay for the lights, as I told you, and I’m sure for the extra locks, too. He says since he’s our landlord, you must let him do that.”
“He needn’t, but I won’t say no. Sales are scarce enough right now.”
For just an instant, Joanna caught a despairing look in his eyes that shook her. Was he really in such a bad place financially? She wanted to express her caring but feared offending him. How complicated it could be to say the right thing.
It struck her that in her concern she was completely distracted from her own problems for a moment. Maybe there were benefits in each direction to sharing one another’s burdens.
Those thoughts raced through her mind and she knew she had to respond in some way, even if she risked offending him.
“I’m sorry.” Maybe the simplest thing was the best. “I didn’t realize the new store was hurting your business so badly.”
He nodded, for once letting his face show his feeling. “We’ve been counting on the store to pay off the loans Daad took on the farm.”
Joanna realized he was telling her something that few people in the community knew. She was incredibly touched to know he considered her a friend. And honored that he trusted her enough to tell her. “I didn’t realize the farm was so deeply mortgaged,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. Your father...”
“My father.” He seemed to thrust the words away from him. “When he was drinking, he couldn’t think beyond the next bottle.”
The suppressed anger in his voice hurt her. However much her own father had let her down by not telling the truth about her parentage, she’d never felt anything like what Noah and his brothers must have experienced.
“I didn’t realize.” She put her hand lightly on his. “I’m so sorry.”
His jaw tightened. “Now you know why every Amish father looks at me with wariness. They don’t want to consider linking themselves with such a tainted family.” He spit out the words as if they tasted bad.
“You mustn’t believe that about yourself.” Her fingers tightened on his. “You aren’t anything like your father. No one could believe that about you.”
His hand turned so that he could clasp hers. He squeezed it for a moment, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Yah, they could. Why not? I do.”
The words ripped into her heart, and she couldn’t hold back her sympathy. “Noah, you can’t think that. You’re a fine person—responsible, hardworking and kind. Don’t let what your father was make you think so little of yourself.”
Noah detached her hand, stepping back as if he needed to create space between them. “You don’t understand.” He didn’t say it resentfully, but as if it was an obvious fact. “You’ve always been the bishop’s daughter. And I’ve always been the drunkard’s son.”
She tried to protest, but at his bleak, pained look, the words died in her throat. He was suddenly someone she didn’t even know.
“You don’t know what I might be capable of.” The words seemed forced out of him. “Neither do I. But every day I’m afraid of turning into him. Afraid of being a man who could hurt the ones who love him most.”
She was in over her head—lost in a tangle of sympathy and caring and feeling completely unable to do anything to counter the hard truths he threw at her. If there were any right words, she couldn’t find them. She stood there mute and angry with herself for her inability to help him. And what was worse, he knew it.
“Go and get what you need for the night.” He turned back to the door. “I’ll finish this and walk you over to Etta’s place.”
When she stood paralyzed for a moment, he threw the word over his shoulder at her. “Go.”
Joanna fled to her bedroom, standing in her familiar surroundings unable to move except to twist her hands together. She’d thought she was so capable, so mature and able to cope with anything that came her way.
She’d been wrong—hopelessly and childishly wrong. She’d have thrown herself on the bed and let the tears come, but if she did, Noah would come looking for her.
Moving nervously, she grabbed a bag and began tossing into it anything she needed for the night. She wrenched open the top drawer of her dresser and froze, as shocked as if she’d discovered a snake among her clothing.
She took a step back. “Noah?” Her voice shook a little. “Will you come here, please?”
His footsteps sounded on the floorboards, and then she sensed him behind her, in the doorway. “What is it?”
“This drawer. We thought the intruder hadn’t touched anything up here. But he did. He went through the contents of this drawer.”
Noah didn’t question her statement. He came forward, looking over her shoulder into the drawer.
“Everything is moved around. It’s neat enough, but he didn’t bother putting them back the way they were.” She shivered. “It’s as if he wanted me to know he’d been here.”
“Check the other drawers in this room,” Noah said. “I’ll take a closer look into any other drawers or cabinets in the apartment and see if anything seems odd.”
By the time she’d checked every drawer and shelf in her room, Joanna’s hands had stopped shaking, and her mind had started to work again. Noah came back, shaking his head.
“Nothing obviously wrong, but you’ll have to look and see if anything is missing. What could they have been looking for? Money? But they didn’t touch the cash box.”
“No. Not money.” She held out her hand, letting the small gold heart dangle from her fingers. “I’m afraid they were looking for this.” She turned and walked abruptly out into the kitchen.