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When a mysterious woman stumbles, bloody and beaten, onto widower Abram Yoder's Lancaster farm, will he find the faith to love again?
Sofia Angelis is a woman without a past. All she knows is that she's being hunted. When she stumbles, bloody and beaten, onto Abram Yoder's Lancaster County farm, she is not only given a chance at safety, but also the possibility of love. Will the ghosts of Sofia's past keep her from seizing a new future?
Abram Yoder is a man trapped in the past. His wife Rebekah died in childbirth two years back, and even through prayer, he hasn't been able to absolve his grief and allow himself to live. When a mysterious woman comes to his Lancaster farm needing help, will Abram find the faith to love again?
Join Sofia and Abram as they confront the past, embrace the future and with God's help, bridge the gap between their two worlds and maybe even find love in Book 1 of the 10-part Out of Darkness serial.
CHAPTER ONE
Though the rain had stopped, a gentle breeze rustled through the forest canopy, dripping large drops onto the damp earth below. Moonlight peeked through breaks in the thick clouds as owls cried, spiders wove their webs, and a woman slept, collapsed on her side against a tree like an abandoned doll. Blood seeped from a wound on her temple, matting her hair. Her blouse was ripped, and she had run her socks black and bloody.
Eventually the intermittent fall of water on her face stirred her to wakefulness. She groaned, wiping her eyes with her hand. Her mouth was dry. Her feet and head hurt.
The woman sat up. "Hello!" she shouted, and the dull echo of her own voice frightened her. Maybe she'd been in some sort of camping accident. She tried to summon some memory of the campsite, what friends might be looking for her, but nothing came. She needed help, she knew that. She felt around the ground for her shoes. Where were they?
She wanted to go home, but where was home? She tried to call up memories of her family, and her heart pounded as she realized she had none. She didn't even know her own name. She had to know her name.
It's a run-down room with the windows boarded shut and the only light a bare bulb on the ceiling. In the corner next to the bathroom sits a damp mattress, atop it a dirty sheet. When she is alone, she can hear the rats skittering in the walls.
She is not alone now.
She stands in front of the mattress, a metal tray clutched in her hands. Though she can't see the man's face through the stocking that masks it, his attention lingers a touch too long. In his waistband, he has a gun. If he comes too close, she can hit him with the tray, but even if she knocks him out, how would she get out of the room? Still, it's her only chance.
He drops six cans of beans on the floor. "Here's your dinner," the man says, his voice a cruel jest. "Don't eat 'em all at once."
Dizziness overcame her. She leaned forward, gripping at the exposed root of one of the surrounding trees, and dry heaved. Was that a memory or a dream? The sky had begun to brighten—false dawn or true, she had no idea. But once the dizziness passed, she knew she had to get moving again. The trees loomed like hulking brutes around her, and the rustling of the leaves whispered that whatever she'd run from was still out there.
She stood, drawing her arms around her chest to ward off the chill, and walked. Sticks and small stones stung through her socks. She walked through the chatter of birds that heralded dawn, and as the sun climbed, the air warmed and the trees thinned. When she reached a narrow road, she stopped, hoping and fearing that someone might be there. It was empty.
She scrambled down the hill to the road on her rear and crossed the thin stream of tar. In the bright sunlight, the lump of terror behind her ribs began to loosen. If she could just find someone with a phone, she might be able to contact the police or a hospital and get help.
The woman scrambled up another hill and down again. Walking in the heat had brought the dizziness back, and she often had to stop to close her eyes and catch her breath. Her mouth felt dry and filled with cotton. She had a hard time imagining that she had ever been so thirsty or dirty before. Her cream-colored blouse felt smooth and expensive, and her jeans were cut well for her body. Her nails, though dirty, were even and polished in light pink. She didn't seem the sort to allow herself to fall into disarray.
The forest gave way to fields of green corn. Breezes rustled through the rows, carrying the scent of manure. The whisper of the corn soothed the woman, and for a moment she simply stared, captivated by how the sun kissed the fields in golden light. Beyond the fields stood a large, white farmhouse with an enclosed black buggy parked beside it. Odd, the woman thought, the buggy instead of a car. Yet somehow the antiquity of it made her feel safe.
She walked towards the farmhouse. As she got closer, she caught sight of a neglected tangle of plants and flowers. A garden! Ripe tomatoes hung from the vines, making the woman's mouth water. She could devour them whole. The thought of their sweet juice on her tongue brought on another wave of dizziness. She closed her eyes and leaned against the side of the farmhouse.
A dog began to bark. It was a Labrador retriever, which had been asleep next to the stairs and hidden by the overgrowth of tall grass between the garden and the stairs.
"What's that, Johanna?" a man yelled. "We have a guest?" The voice approached her, accompanied by footsteps. "Excuse me, ma'am, are you lost?"
His accent was strange, vaguely German, and the woman asked herself how she could recognize this, how she could know the taste of a raw tomato on her tongue but not remember her own name. "Yes," she answered, opening her eyes and turning towards the voice...
Thank you for Reading!
I hope you enjoyed reading this sample as much as I loved writing it!
If so, keep reading on me in BOOK 1 of the Out of Darkness Serial.
All the Best,
Ruth
