Twelve

The Confrontation

DANIEL ROPP HAD been back a full month.

Zeke knew in his heart that pure jealousy, mixed with an unhealthy dose of needless curiosity, propelled him to decide to visit the Ropps’ farm. And though he’d told his sister Ana that he would stay far away from Sarah, he’d slowly had come to terms with the fact that he could no longer keep his promise. He wasn’t proud of himself.

But there was something wrong with Sarah’s relationship with her husband. And there was something definitely different about Daniel. Other ­people in the community had noticed it, too, though no one had come right out and blatantly said so. But there had been numerous discussions, with all of them wondering why he didn’t seem to remember them much. About how tentative he seemed around Sarah, whereas before Daniel had always been foolishly arrogant.

Even his way of speaking sounded foreign and odd. It was as if he had to carefully weigh every word that he spoke. Almost as if English had been his first language instead of Pennsylvania Dutch.

All that together, combined with the fact that his features weren’t quite how they should be—­burn or no burn—­equaled a great many inconsistencies. Surely so many that they couldn’t be denied. The more he thought about all of Daniel’s discrepancies, the more Zeke started to worry. He began to imagine all sorts of fantastical things and that the man had been lying to Sarah while she was too good of a person to ever suspect such a thing.

In his worst moments, Zeke had begun to fear that Sarah was in grave danger. That she was trapped on the property with a madman, begging silently for help.

He feared the very privacy they all were trying to give her was to her detriment.

He didn’t even dare ask himself what he thought he could do if that was the case. Would he risk going against the church’s policies to fend off an evil man if Sarah needed help?

When he reached the property, his curiosity was further piqued. The sun was shining, as it was almost mid-­morning. Most women would have clothes hanging on the line by now. Instead, the house looked dark and quiet.

He stood, flummoxed, until he heard voices floating out from the barn’s open doors.

Glad he had decided to walk to the farm instead of riding his horse, Zeke stopped and listened. Tried to gauge who was inside. If Sarah was alone, he would go right in.

But then, all at once, he heard a deep voice murmur something . . . and it was followed by Sarah chuckling.

That ringing, beautiful sound brought him up short. When had he last heard her sound so joyful?

To his dismay, he couldn’t remember a time. Not since she was a child, at least.

There was low conversation again, followed by Sarah’s melodic reply. Drawn to the noise, Zeke walked to the open doorway before he could stop himself. Or, at the very least, formulate an explanation about why he had arrived.

The sight he discovered fairly took his breath away. Daniel was sitting atop an old table, tapping the barn’s wall behind him. Sarah was perched on a chair nearby. And, to Zeke’s further dismay, it looked as if she were directing her husband.

She had just leaned forward, telling Daniel to tap harder on one of the cracked boards, when she spied him.

Abruptly, she got to her feet and sobered. “Zeke! My goodness, you gave me a start! Were you standing here long?”

“Not too long.”

“Did you go to the haus already?”

“Nee. I heard voices in here.” Sarah’s cheeks pinkened at his words, and Zeke imagined she was mighty embarrassed. He’d never heard of a woman sitting on a chair in the barn in the middle of the day. It had been most odd behavior.

Daniel put down the tool he’d been holding, staring all the while at Zeke in a cool, assessing way. It made Zeke a bit uncomfortable. And made him realize that he was surely overstepping his bounds. It was obvious that Daniel did not care for another man passing judgment on him—­or his wife.

And it was such a reaction that Daniel would have that Zeke wondered, for the very first time, if he had been wrong.

He stood there, eyeing them, as Daniel hopped off the table he was sitting on. “Zeke Graber, jah?”

“Jah.”

“How may I be of ser­vice to you?”

Instantly, Zeke relaxed. There was yet another odd phrase—­a phrase no Amish man would offer. After pulling off his hat, he held it between his hands. “I, ah, wanted to stop by. To check on things, you know. To make sure everyone was all right.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you have such worries?”

“I, uh, thought that you might not be fully recovered from your wounds.” Zeke let his statement drift between them, then, at last, said what was on his mind. “And I was concerned about Sarah’s welfare.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Me?”

Daniel motioned for her to keep quiet and for her stay where she was. Just as if Sarah had something to fear from Zeke! The idea was so wrong, was so mistaken, it made Zeke’s temper flare.

“I came here to speak to both of you. I would appreciate it if you would let her speak. After all, Sarah has nothing to fear from me.”

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe not. Maybe I am the one who should be afraid.” He stepped a little closer, stopping right in front of Zeke so that Zeke had no option but to stare at the muscles lying just underneath the scars on Daniel’s arms, at the jagged skin on his face. At the eye that didn’t quite focus.

And his demeanor was so stoic, so calm, it made Zeke feel ashamed.

At last, Daniel spoke. “As you can see, I don’t look real pretty, but I work all right. I can also see to the needs of my frau. Danke for your concern, but it is unwarranted. However, maybe you can tell me why you are you were concerned about my wife?”

If they were talking about anyone else, Zeke would have apologized. He was no fool. He knew it wasn’t right to be so concerned about another man’s wife.

But this was Sarah, and this man still seemed like a stranger, and their history together had been bad. “You know why. She is a gentle soul. And you—­” He bit off the rest of his words, not quite willing to utter everything he was thinking.

“And me?” One eyebrow lifted.

Zeke sighed. “And you are not.”

“And so therefore you came over out of the goodness of your heart.” Daniel’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.

It almost embarrassed him.

“Oh, Zeke,” Sarah said.

“It’s all right, Sarah. Don’t fret.” Then, Daniel’s voice hardened as he turned to face Zeke. “For the record, I think you are exactly right. I am absolutely a man who has now seen too much. There is little gentle about me. There never has been. But that doesn’t mean my wife has anything to fear. I must tell you that I am not altogether pleased to be told this to my face, however.”

“There are many in the community who do not trust you.”

“Then I will have to gain their trust,” Daniel said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Suddenly, he looked much bigger. Far more formidable. Everything in Zeke’s body told him to step back, to leave. But he knew if he did, he would always regret it.

Gathering his courage, he said, “You won’t be able to gain anyone’s trust. In time, we will all see you for what you are.”

“What is that?” Daniel asked.

“Daniel, Zeke, please, let us not fight,” Sarah interrupted. “Let us not ruin the day. After all, it is so rare that we have company.”

“Is it? Sarah said you visited her while I was gone.”

“Of course I did. She needed some help now and then.”

“I am grateful for your concern. Sarah was blessed to have a friend like you. However, as you can see, everything is fine now. I hope you will be relieved about that, and have no further cause for concern.”

Zeke knew he should take Daniel’s words as a stern warning and leave. But he also realized that once he left he would have lost his opportunity to check on Sarah. “What are you doing in here? Why were you tapping the walls?”

Daniel shrugged. “Merely making repairs.”

Zeke craned his head around Daniel, attempting to get a better view of the walls. “What sort of repairs? I’ve looked at the walls a time or two. They looked fine to me.”

“They are rotting.”

“But why do you have so many other things out?” Even as he said the words, Zeke knew he’d gone too far. No man would put up with such intrusive questions—­and no man should have to.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “I fear I am losing patience. Why are you concerned? Why are you coming over uninvited and asking questions about our home and farm? Sarah is no longer alone. There is no longer a reason for you to stop over. Unannounced.”

Sarah gripped the edge of her apron. “Zeke, we are going to have dinner soon. Please, stay and enjoy the meal with us.”

“Yes, join us,” Daniel echoed. “I would enjoy hearing the answers to my questions. And why you feel like you can cast stones.”

Daniel’s eyes looked so cool, so accusing, that Zeke took a step back. And realized that he had to retreat emotionally as well. “Danke, but I fear I must be going. I only wanted to stop by.”

“And now you have,” Daniel murmured.

Though he felt utterly miserable, Zeke forced himself to look directly at Sarah. “I hope I my visit will not cause you any ill feelings. I promise, I came here with the best of intentions.”

Her gaze was soft. “I know that, Zeke.” Then, to Zeke’s amazement, Sarah stepped to her husband’s side. “But I am afraid that it would be best if you didn’t come over again.”

He felt as if his heart was breaking all over again. Before he could blame circumstances and timing for his loss, but now it was completely evident that his love for her was neither appreciated nor accepted.

This time, she had rejected him.

And as he began his long walk home, Zeke knew that he would not forget this pain anytime soon.

And neither would he forget his anger toward Daniel. The man didn’t deserve her and had now made things worse.

This moment would not be forgotten.