44 
44 Oh! Thou, who comest, like a midnight thief,
Uncounted, seeking whom thou may’st destroy;
Rupturing anew the half-closed wounds of grief,
And sealing up each new-born spring of joy.
JOHN KEEGAN
She took her time about coming back to her own place.
He’d been waiting, hiding in the trees and watching every night for a week now, growing more and more furious when she didn’t show up. He wasn’t dumb enough to try to get to her while she was still at her mother’s place. Not with her family around. Even Gideon was there sometimes, and that Gant fellow had stopped by as well. No, there were just too many people watching her who could ruin his plans again.
He just wanted her. Rachel. Gant, too, but he might have to be satisfied with just Rachel at first. Gant and that big hound of his were a risk. He hadn’t figured out yet how to take him.
At first he’d thought getting rid of Gant would solve everything. But once he realized the man wasn’t going to leave, he tried to scare Rachel into staying away from him. That hadn’t worked either. Now that she’d gone and ruined everything, he just wanted revenge.
He would have been content to just scare her, but not actually hurt her. He’d thought she would eventually lose faith in Gant and even suspect him of the trouble happening all around. But oh, no. The more bad things happened, the more she seemed to cuddle up to him.
He hadn’t meant things to go this far. At first, it had been mostly pranks. Fun. Just stirring up a little trouble to liven things up a bit. The fires, the teasing of the little sister, nobody had really got hurt. But after the accident with the Esch woman, his so-called Englisch friends had quickly deserted him. Only by threatening to implicate both of them in the Esch woman’s death and the other troubles did he manage to convince them to keep their silence.
He was on his own then, and everything just got worse.
He tried to stop once, but he kept being drawn back in. Something in him craved the excitement. Now this. What a mess. And it was all Rachel’s fault. Hers and Gant’s. If she’d only acted like a decent Amish widow instead of getting mixed up with that outsider like a common tramp, nothing would have come to this point.
His two cowardly brothers blabbing to the bishops about the beatings. His dat losing his temper like a wild man and taking it out on him, now that the other two had run off to hide at their Aunt Rebekah’s. And now Dat’s shunning.
He rubbed his shoulder and his cheekbone, where a big, painful bruise had raised up after the last beating. As if everything was his fault, when in truth it was all Rachel’s fault. Hers and Gant’s. If she’d only acted like a decent Amish widow instead of getting mixed up with that auslander, nothing would have come to this point. Dat would still be the bishop, he wouldn’t be taking his temper out on him, and his brothers would still be at home.
What a mess.
Well, Rachel had herself to thank, now that he’d completely given up any thought of being careful with her so as not to do her any real harm. There was no longer any reason to avoid hurting her. Now he intended to give her what was coming to her. And somehow, later, he’d get Gant as well.
They had spoiled everything—every plan he’d had, every attempt he’d made to put things right, to make things work out the way they were supposed to. So things would get better for him. So things would be better for his whole family. Instead, everything was a disaster.
The two of them were now going to pay. First her, then Gant. Starting tonight.