Watching David struggle with the cellar door sent a warning chill down her spine. “Why won’t it open?”
“I don’t know.” He remained on the steps, using his hands to feel along the edge of the door.
The cellar was cold, not as bad as being out in the elements, but not warm enough for them to spend the night in, either. She shivered, and tried not to panic.
Lord, help us escape!
“I should have taken Liam’s offer of a knife,” David muttered harshly. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Do you have anything down here that we can use to saw through the wood?”
“I don’t think so.” She went over to examine the shelves. “I could break a jar if you think the sharp edge of a glass might help.”
“Don’t do that yet.” David pushed hard against the door again. She stepped closer, wondering if she could add her strength to the task.
David shoved at the door again. “It moves a little more each time. It’s not locked... I think someone set something heavy on top.”
“Ach, who would do such a thing?” Jacob? Luke? Or the brother of Carson Wells?
David didn’t answer. He was breathing hard between forceful thrusts against the door.
She shivered again and clutched her cloak tight as the December chill seeped into her bones. How long would it take for them to become hypothermic? It wasn’t as cold down here as it was outside, but it was far too chilled to sustain them for long. She didn’t fear death, knowing she would be with God, but this wasn’t how she expected to go.
And she couldn’t help feeling a bit of regret at how she’d kept David at arm’s length.
“It’s moving,” David said excitedly. “I think whatever was placed over the doors is slipping off.”
“Like what?” She couldn’t imagine what had been used to hold the doors down.
“I’m not sure.” David sounded breathless.
“Can I help? Maybe with both of us pushing against it, we can move them farther?”
“I thought of that, but there isn’t enough room for both of us on the stairs.” He flashed a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t stop until we get out of here.”
She believed him. More than she’d ever believed anyone else. Clutching her cloak closer, she stamped her feet to stay warm. They would not die here tonight, but that didn’t mean they were getting out soon.
She swallowed hard. What if Mammi Ruth needed her? What if the same person who locked them in had gone inside the house?
The thought reminded her of Adam’s plan to add an interior staircase to the cellar so that there would be a passageway to go into the cellar from the kitchen. She hadn’t seen the need, but now she desperately wished he had finished that project.
“Oomph.” David grunted as he shoved against the door again. Her pulse kicked up as she saw the gap between the doors widen.
He was going to do it. David was going to get them free!
She prayed for God to give David the strength he needed. It was difficult to stand there doing nothing but feeling helpless. She glanced around the interior of the cellar again, trying to understand why anyone had come down here in the first place.
Lifting the lantern, she double-checked that she hadn’t missed anything. The wooden shelves were long, the canned goods neatly placed.
It didn’t make any sense.
“I think—I’ve got it.” David groaned again, then the cellar door abruptly opened. It happened so fast he lost his footing. She lunged forward to break his fall.
He caught himself in time. Again, a smile creased his features. “Thanks. Let’s get out of here.”
He didn’t need to ask twice.
“I’ll go first.” He mounted the stairs, taking a moment to peer over the edge of the cellar doors to look around. He must not have seen anything suspicious, because he climbed all the way out.
“It’s clear. Hurry,” he urged.
She quickly moved toward the steps. Going up while holding the lantern was awkward, but David lowered his hand to help. Soon she was standing outside the cellar, breathing the crisp cold air.
Then her gaze landed on the rusty metal plow that had been set over the cellar doors. It took a moment for her to realize it was Jacob’s.
“I know, it’s very suspicious,” David said, reading her thoughts. “But keep in mind anyone could have done this. Let’s get inside.”
He took the lantern, then clasped her hand. Together they rounded the corner of the house, then headed to the front door. David once again went first, sweeping the lantern around the interior of the living room before going all the way inside.
The warmth of the room washed over her. David set down the lantern, then continued searching the house, going all the way upstairs to make sure no one was hiding inside.
When he returned to the living room, his expression was grim. “There are damp prints in the room upstairs.”
She sucked in a harsh breath. “Someone was here?”
“Whoever did this is gone now.” David took a moment to add more wood to the stove. “I have to believe my efforts to break free of the cellar cut his time short.”
“Oh, David.” She crossed over to wrap her arms around his waist. Despite everything that had happened, she was grateful for his enduring strength and support. “Denke for getting us out of there.”
He held her close for a long moment, as if needing the reassurance that they were fine, as much as she did. She buried her head against his chest for a moment, then pulled back just enough to look up at him.
A wave of longing caught her off guard, and she impulsively went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She’d intended to show gratitude, but the moment their lips touched, she knew their embrace was so much more.
His kiss was warm and sweet, then abruptly ended as he lifted his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take advantage of the situation.”
“You didn’t, but I did.” She stared up at him for a long moment. “Good night, David. Sleep well.”
She pulled away and headed upstairs, wondering how it was possible she could enjoy kissing David in a way she hadn’t with Adam. Was this warm glow a result of their recently escaping a dire situation?
Or an indication of something more?
Wow. David could barely think after Elizabeth’s kiss. He hadn’t deserved it, but of course could think of nothing more than kissing her again.
He forced himself to move, swallowing a groan as his muscles ached in protest. He’d never played football, but after slamming his hands against the cellar door for fifteen minutes straight, he had sympathy for those who had.
Thinking about the rusty plow weighing down the cellar door, he stumbled toward the sofa. The intruder hadn’t locked the doors with a padlock, but the heavy plow had been somewhat effective at keeping them trapped long enough for the intruder to get inside the house.
But why? The obvious answer was to look for something. Yet there was no reason for Bryon Wells to do such a thing. Especially since the guy had taken several shots at him and had likely set his house on fire.
If Wells had been here, he could have easily fired down upon them in the cellar. It wasn’t as if he and Elizabeth would have been able to escape.
He thought of the Amish man who’d been seen near his house before the fire had been set.
An Amish man that could have easily lugged the rusty plow over to the cellar door to trap them inside.
Was there a connection between the Amish and the Englisch? If so, he was missing it.
He pulled off his boots and stretched out on the sofa. The multiple incidents that had transpired over the past few days whirled like snowflakes in his mind, but the physical exertion of getting them out of the cellar eventually lured him to sleep.
After what seemed like a few minutes later, the sounds of movement from upstairs woke him. But when he looked outside, he could see dawn brightening the horizon.
Wincing a bit, he rose and padded across the room to feed the woodburning stove. He made a mental note to chop more wood later, if he could manage to raise his arms high enough to swing the ax. He rubbed his shoulders for a moment, then turned to see Elizabeth coming down the stairs.
“Good morning.” Just seeing her made him smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to start breakfast.”
“Ach, that’s not a problem. I’m happy to do so.” Her cheeks were pink, either from the heat or from the memory of their kiss.
He hoped it was the latter.
“I was thinking we should talk to Jacob today.” Elizabeth brushed past him to gather the makings for breakfast. “We need to understand how his rusty plow came to be lying across the cellar doors, ja?”
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. The Amish way was to handle grievances between them without outside help, so it made sense to speak to Jacob directly. But he wanted to shield her from any potential disagreement. “I would be happy to talk to him. No need for you to come along.”
She frowned. “I was trapped in the cellar, too, David.”
“I know.” It was his need to keep her safe that had given him the strength to push the heavy plow off the doors. “But I think this conversation should be between the two of us.”
“I insist on going with you.” There was a steely note of determination in her tone. “Jacob is my neighbor and therefore his actions are my concern, ain’t so?”
Most of the time he admired her independence, but not today. He didn’t think Jacob would speak freely in front of Elizabeth, but maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.
Once they’d confronted him, Jacob would know without any doubt they were on to him. David would make it clear these incidents had to stop.
“Don’t try to talk me out of it.” Elizabeth lifted her chin, staring him down.
“Fine. Have it your way. We’ll go see Jacob together.” He tried not to let his frustration show.
“Denke.” Elizabeth cracked eggs into a bowl, but before she could continue preparing for their meal, Mammi Ruth called from upstairs.
Elizabeth dried her hands on a towel. “I must help her get up.”
He nodded, waiting for her to head upstairs before stepping up to the kitchen counter. He quickly took over the task of making eggs as he considered their plans for the day.
It would be good to talk to Liam about the cellar incident, and he considered taking a walk back to the Amish Shoppe to borrow the cell phone. Maybe after they’d spoken to Jacob.
Today was Tuesday, which meant tomorrow the Amish Shoppe would open again. But only for two days, as the Christmas holiday was nearly upon them.
The police investigation was going far slower than he liked. If they didn’t uncover something critical soon, he’d end up spending the holiday here with Elizabeth and her mother-in-law.
He wasn’t sure he’d be welcome at whatever family gathering they might be invited to. It didn’t matter, really—he’d spent the last several Christmas holidays alone.
This must be God’s plan for him. To humble him after the way he’d taken Carson Wells’s life.
Elizabeth returned with Mammi Ruth in tow. He nodded in greeting, glad to see the woman was moving around more.
Staying isolated in her room wasn’t healthy, emotionally or physically.
Elizabeth said grace in both languages, then they ate. He noticed Mammi Ruth eyeing him curiously more than once. He patted his mouth with a napkin, thinking he had food on his face, then wondered if the elder woman had discovered he and Elizabeth had shared a kiss.
Was it written all over his face?
He wouldn’t be surprised.
After they finished eating, Mammi Ruth insisted on sitting in the living room for a while. He was about to help Elizabeth with the dishes when there was a knock at the door.
Elizabeth glanced at him in concern as he crossed over to open it. He’d expected Liam or Garrett, but their visitor was Luke Embers.
“I’d like to speak to Elizabeth.” Luke didn’t look surprised to see him, which meant the word was out among the Amish community that David was staying here.
“Come in,” David invited.
Luke shook his head, peering over David’s shoulder. Elizabeth came over to join them.
When it became clear Luke wanted to speak to her alone, he headed back to the kitchen. Elizabeth and Luke spoke in low voices for a few minutes, before Luke left as abruptly as he’d arrived.
Mammi Ruth said something in Pennsylvania Dutch that he didn’t quite understand. Then it hit him.
“Luke asked to court you, didn’t he?”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Ja, but I politely refused.”
“Did he say anything about the rusty plow sitting along the side of your house?” David asked.
She shook her head. “I doubt he saw it. His place is located down the road a stretch in the other direction. Besides, we’ll talk to Jacob about that, as it came from his property, ain’t so?”
Now that Luke had shown up here, he thought it might be prudent to talk to him, too. But maybe he could do that later. He glanced at Mammi Ruth. She was watching him like a hawk about to swoop down on a helpless chick. He imagined she would have preferred Elizabeth to accept Luke’s courting, or Jacob’s.
Anyone but him, an Englisch outsider.
Ignoring her wasn’t easy and he felt the sudden need to escape. He reached for his coat and hat. “I’ll bring in more firewood.”
He went out to the woodpile, then lifted the ax. His biceps screamed and quivered, so he set it back down and spent his time gathering wood.
Being trapped in the cellar meant the danger was far from over. Leaving Elizabeth and Mammi Ruth alone wasn’t an option.
After he made four trips, he figured there was enough wood to hold them for a while.
He returned inside and was surprised to find Mammi Ruth in the kitchen working alongside Elizabeth. It was the first time he’d seen her do such a thing.
The strained expression on Elizabeth’s features indicated the woman had tried to convince Elizabeth to court Luke.
He escaped by heading up to the spare bedroom. There, he examined the baby cradle and wiped it down in preparation for another coat of stain.
When that was finished, he cleaned up and walked over to the closet. He tested the door handle again. It was still locked.
Then he knelt on the floor and looked closer at the door handle. There were no tiny scratches like the kind he’d seen in the Amish Shoppe’s main door. Whoever had come up here last night hadn’t attempted to pick the lock.
Because he’d run out of time? Or because he didn’t have the proper tools?
The idea of two separate men coming after them wouldn’t leave him alone. One Amish, one Englisch. A theory he wanted to discuss in more depth with Liam.
Finding a couple of small, skinny nails, he tried to pick the closet lock. Unfortunately, his efforts were futile, so he quickly gave up.
Standing back, he figured he could kick the door frame with his foot to open it by force. But he needed to discuss that with Elizabeth first. She might not appreciate that, especially if there was nothing in there worth breaking the door down.
“David?” Her voice drew him to the top of the stairs. “Liam is here.”
“Good.” He quickly went down to the main living room. A quick glance confirmed Mammi Ruth wasn’t around. Elizabeth must have helped her to her room without his hearing. “Liam, I’m glad to see you. Do you have information for us?”
Liam nodded slowly. “Elizabeth told me about the incident with the cellar last night. I’m glad you were able to escape.”
He nodded. “It was a frightening experience and I wished I’d taken the knife you offered.”
In response Liam pulled the pocketknife from his pocket. “Here, take it. The blade is small but sharp. It’s better than nothing.”
He glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded in agreement. “Can’t hurt, ja?”
“Thanks.” David took the knife.
“I have a photo array for you to look at,” Liam said.
“You do?” For the first time in a while, he felt a surge of hope that Liam was getting close to arresting the man responsible. At least one of the men responsible. “Show me.”
Liam took out a sheet of paper and handed it to him. Six faces stared up at him.
Elizabeth came over to see, too. For long moments neither of them spoke.
Finally, David was forced to shake his head. “I’m sorry, Liam, but I don’t recognize any of these men. This one here,” he said, tapping the man who appeared to have a thicker neck and wider shoulders compared to the others, “appears to be the same size as the man who shot at me in the Amish Shoppe and outside the Green Lake Grill.”
“He doesn’t look familiar otherwise?” Liam asked.
David frowned, then understanding dawned. “He looks a little like Carson Wells.”
“His name is Bryon Wells. He’s Carson’s younger brother. We found a witness who put him at the Green Lake Grill back on Saturday night with a group of other guys.” Liam shrugged. “We’ll keep checking for more intel, but so far have come up empty-handed.”
Logically, it made sense that Bryon was responsible for shooting at him and burning his house.
But the rest? No way. The methods didn’t match. The incidents at Elizabeth’s were more scare tactics than attempts to kill them.
“I believe there are two separate things going on,” he said. “Bryon is out to seek revenge against me, but these strange incidents here at Elizabeth’s haven’t been nearly as lethal. Well, except for trapping us in the cellar. My thought is that an Amish person is responsible for what’s happening here.”
Elizabeth gasped. “You mean like Jacob or Luke?”
“Or someone else we haven’t considered.” He glanced at Liam, who nodded in agreement.
“But why?” Elizabeth asked.
He had no idea. But if they didn’t figure it out soon, he was afraid the person would do something far worse than barricading them in the cellar.