Amish Rescue Read online

  Extending his hand, Joachim introduced himself. Instinctively, he knew from Victor’s menacing expression that the red-haired man had failed to recognize him.

  Victor reluctantly accepted the handshake. “Is there something you want?”

  “I’m looking for work.” Joachim glanced again at the overhead window, feeling a sense of loss at finding it empty. “Carpentry, painting or any handyman jobs you might need done. I can provide references.”

  Victor pursed his lips. “You’re from around here?”

  Joachim would not lie, but he saw no reason to provide more than a minimum of information. “I worked in North Carolina for a number of years. Folks said there might be jobs in this area of North Georgia.”

  He studied the once-beautiful home, pausing to gaze at each window, hoping for another sign of the illusive woman. “Looks like they were right. Your house could use a bit of upkeep.”

  Victor shrugged. “I doubt this old place is worth the effort.”

  “A few repairs will make a big difference,” Joachim assured him. He touched the dry rot around the front door and peered inside the house through the sidelight. His heart skittered in his chest.

  The woman he had seen moments earlier now stood poised on the landing. She raised her index finger to her lips as if pleading for him to remain silent about her whereabouts. The furtive look on her oval face made him even more concerned about her wellbeing.

  Joachim turned back to Victor. “I can do as little or as much as you want. But you should know that the value of your property would improve with the repairs, in case you decide to sell any time soon.”

  Victor arched a brow. Seemingly, the mention of financial gain brought interest. “You think I could find a buyer?”

  Joachim nodded. “Yah, if you are willing to fix some of the problems.”

  “I’ve got rot around the back porch, too,” Victor volunteered. “Plus, the kitchen door is warped and won’t close easily.”

  “Let me have a look,” Joachim suggested. He motioned Victor to take the lead and then glanced again into the house. The woman had disappeared.

  Joachim sighed at his own foolishness. He knew better than to play hide-and-seek with an Englisch woman. He needed employment, not involvement in a domestic dispute. Although she and Victor seemed an unlikely match. Perhaps she was a caregiver for his mother. Still, something did not seem right. Whether she was there as an employee, a spouse or a guest...no woman should look so afraid.

  After rounding the house, Joachim climbed to the back porch. Quickly he inspected the sagging roof and rotting soffits, trying to get his mind off the woman who continued to tug at his heart.

  His gaze turned to the kitchen window. He stepped closer in pretense of examining the sill, all the while peering through the glass, searching the kitchen and hallway beyond for some sign of the woman.

  Victor stood to the side. “If I do hire you,” he warned, scratching his chin, “I won’t stand for laziness or slipshod work.”

  Movement caught Joachim’s eye. Something or someone hurried across the entrance hallway to the front door.

  “I understand your concern, but you will not find me to be lazy or my work slipshod,” Joachim said, hoping to keep Victor’s attention on the disrepair instead of what was happening inside the house.

  Feeling the need to provide a distraction, Joachim tapped the sill and pushed on the wood before moving to the next window and repeating his assessment.

  “Yah,” he finally said. “There is much work to be done. I could start tomorrow. Pay me only if you are satisfied with the completed job.”

  “I’ll think it over.” Victor took another slug of his coffee. “Stop by tomorrow, and I’ll let you know.”

  Joachim nodded. “Sounds gut.”

  Leaving Victor on the porch, Joachim returned to the front of the house. He glanced at the outbuildings and barn in the distance. Had the woman left the house? Was she now hiding close at hand, or was he making more out of that which was innocent?

  “Sarah?” Victor’s voice sounded as he entered the house.

  Joachim climbed into the buggy and flicked the reins. Thankfully, Belle responded with a brisk trot.

  Although Joachim kept his eyes on the road, he knew he was not alone. He had seen the tarp—which had been neatly folded and stowed away earlier—strewed over the back of the buggy. Someone was hiding under the thick covering.

  He hurried the mare along the driveway and felt a sense of relief as he guided Belle onto the main road.

  A sports car raced by, going much too fast. The woman in the passenger’s seat turned to stare at Joachim as if she had never seen an Amish man.

  Too soon, the sound of another vehicle filled the air.

  Joachim looked back, seeing a red pickup truck turn out of the Thomin driveway. Victor sat behind the wheel. The tires squealed as he gunned the engine.

  Would he pass by as the other car had done or stop and demand to know who or what was hiding under the tarp in Joachim’s buggy?

  Coming home had been a mistake. More than reconciling with his father, Joachim needed to reconcile with himself as to why he was so eager to help an Englisch woman on the run.

  TWO

  Sarah blinked back tears and tried to calm her heart before it ricocheted out of her chest. She had been a fool to think she could escape. The squeal of tires and the whine of a vehicle approaching the buggy made her realize the full extent of her mistake.

  She curled into an even smaller ball and prayed the tarp would keep her hidden. After two months of captivity, she shuddered at the thought of what her punishment might be if Victor found her. Plus, she had put the Amish man in danger, and now he would be subject to Victor’s wrath, as well. The man driving the buggy was innocent of any wrongdoing and had stepped, quite literally, into a perfect storm that was getting worse by the moment.

  That she had grabbed the opportunity to run away from Victor still stunned her. An action she never would have taken if not for his abuse earlier this morning. She had planned to escape with Miriam after they were reunited. Her sister would have known what to do and where to go. Miriam had saved Sarah from the fire. She would have saved her from Victor, as well.

  Instead, the Amish man with the broad shoulders and understanding gaze had been the catalyst that had Sarah running for her life. Even when peering down at him from the window, she had felt an instant surge of hope when their eyes met, as if he knew she was in danger and had come to her rescue.

  The hope evaporated with the deafening roar of the motor vehicle. She fisted her hands and bit down on her lip, willing herself to remain still while internally she wanted to kick her feet and wail like a small child who didn’t want to be punished for some misdeed. Yet she had done nothing wrong.

  Victor was the one at fault, a fact she needed to remember. How thoroughly he had filled her mind with lies so that she sometimes confused her innocence with guilt.

  “You’re the reason, Sarah, that we have to hide from the police,” Victor had complained on more than one occasion. “If I didn’t need to protect you, I would be free to come and go. Instead, we must hole up and hide out so the corrupt cops won’t find you and sell you into slavery along with your sister.”

  He had brainwashed her with his constant badgering about her guilt. Fear, fatigue and her dulled senses, caused by the drugs he forced on her, had added to her confusion.

  Thankfully, today, she was able to think rationally enough to seize the opportunity to escape. Pulling in a fortifying breath, she smelled the musty scent of the tarp mixed with the damp cool air of the encroaching storm. If dark clouds hung overhead, hopefully, they weren’t a harbinger of what would happen to her in the next few moments.

  Instead of the weather, she focused on the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the pavement and tried to ignore the blast of a horn and the re
vved acceleration of the vehicle that forced the buggy to the side of the road.

  “Hold up there, Belle.” The deep voice of the Amish man quieting his horse should have calmed her unease, but knowing Victor was the reason brought another volley of fear to wrap around her spine and underscored the seriousness of her situation as the buggy came to a stop.

  God help me, she silently prayed. Help the Amish man. Save both of us from Victor.

  “Hey, Amish.” Victor’s voice. “Did you see a woman leave my house?”

  “Your mudder?”

  “Not my mother.” Victor’s sharp retort reminded Sarah of the caustic tone he often used with her. “A twenty-one-year-old woman wearing jeans and a sweater.”

  “She is your schweschder?” The Amish voice was deep and calming.

  “What?” Victor didn’t understand.

  “Your schweschder,” the Amish man repeated. “Is your sister the woman for whom you are searching?”

  “I don’t have a sister,” Victor spat. “I’m looking for the woman who works for us, helping my mother. Did you see anyone?”

  “A car passed by, heading toward Petersville. A woman sat in the passenger seat. The man driving had a bald head.”

  “What color was the woman’s hair?”

  “Blond. This is perhaps the woman you are seeking?”

  Victor grumbled. A car door slammed and tires squealed as he drove away. Sarah held her breath and listened to the sound of the engine disappearing into the distance.

  “He’s gone.” The Amish man’s voice was low and reassuring. “You can come out now.”

  He had known she was under the tarp?

  She raised the edge of the covering and stared up at a square jaw, furrowed brow and deep-set eyes filled with question.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asked.

  She hadn’t expected his concern or the tears that filled her eyes. “Not until today.”

  “He will return soon. Plus, a storm is approaching.”

  She looked at the darkening sky.

  “I will take you someplace safe. Do you have family in the area?”

  She glanced at a nearby road sign—Petersville 5 miles, Willkommen 30 miles—and shook her head. “My sister will be here tomorrow or the day after. She’ll make sure I’m safe once she arrives.”

  “But today you need lodging,” he said, calmly stating the obvious. “Stay under the tarp in case Victor returns.”

  Without further discussion, he turned his gaze to the road and clicked his tongue. The buggy jerked as the horse responded. Sarah found the sound of the horse’s hooves on the pavement and the sway of the carriage mildly soothing.

  She didn’t know anything about the Amish man, yet he had helped her escape. She had to trust him, at least for the moment. From what she knew about the Amish, they kept to themselves and had little to do with law enforcement. If so, the man in the buggy might help her elude the crooked cops who had hijacked Miriam’s car and were searching for both sisters even now. He might also help her reconnect with Miriam and take both of them to safety. But where would that be?

  Sarah had moved from town to town her entire life with no place to call home except the short-term rentals where she and her mother and sisters had lived for a month or two at most, before moving on to the next temporary lodging. How foolish she was to think her life in the future would be different, no matter how much she longed for stability and a home of her own.

  Relieved though Sarah was to be free of Victor, she worried about his mother now left home alone with her crazed son. Over the last few weeks, Ms. Hazel’s condition had deteriorated much too quickly, making Sarah wonder if Victor was doing something to speed up her decline.

  Concern for the older woman weighed heavily on Sarah’s shoulders, but she couldn’t do anything to help Ms. Hazel at the moment. Right now, she needed to close her eyes and rest. Sarah had escaped, although she felt anything but free while hiding under the tarp with Victor prowling the area in search of her.

  Should Victor return to question her rescuer again, would the Amish man whose faith embraced peaceful nonresistance be able to save her? Or would Victor find her? She shuddered at the thought, knowing that if he got his hands on her once more, Victor would ensure Sarah never escaped again.

  * * *

  The dark sky mirrored Joachim’s inner struggle. Passing through the intersection where Eli died had been Joachim’s undoing earlier. Now he was hiding a woman he did not know. The added complication only made him more conflicted.

  All too clearly, he had recognized the pain on the woman’s face as she glanced down at him from the window and again as she stood on the stairway inside the Thomin house, her finger to her lips and her eyes pleading for mercy. Her expression had reminded Joachim of his own sense of hopelessness and despair that had overwhelmed him following his brother’s death.

  Was that what had drawn Joachim to the woman and made him long to protect her?

  He glanced at the rear of the buggy, where she lay under the tarp. By the steady rise and fall of the heavy covering, he presumed she had fallen asleep, which was probably for the best. Fatigue had lined her face along with fear that made him grateful he had come to her rescue.

  The wind picked up, and the temperature dropped as dark clouds billowed overhead. Joachim needed to find shelter before the storm brought more chaos to this already confusing day.

  He flicked the reins, hurrying Belle. Instinctively, she knew the route he had chosen to take.

  The woman needed a place to hole up for a day or two until she could connect with her sister. Petersville was the nearest town, but that was the direction Victor had gone. When he failed to find her there, he would more than likely retrace his route to search more thoroughly in the local area.

  The Burkholder farm adjoined the Thomin property, but the road connecting the two homes took a circuitous route around the fields and pastures. Glancing at the sky, Joachim wondered if Belle would get them to shelter in time.

  If his father was tilling the soil in the distant acreage, Joachim might be able to signal his sister, Rebecca, especially if she was working in the garden. She had written him faithfully while he was away, telling him about the family. In spite of the breezy news she shared, Joachim had read between the lines, all too aware of the emotional anguish Eli’s death had caused his family.

  More than anything, Joachim longed to see Mamm again, yet his mother would abide by the rules his father established. Having to watch her turn her back on him would be almost too hard to bear.

  And the woman hiding in the back of his buggy? If his father forbid Joachim entry into the house, he would hole up in the barn and give the woman as long as she needed to decide where she wanted to go. Until that time, Joachim would stand guard, ensuring Victor did not find her.

  But would she want Joachim’s help?

  He shook his head. An Englisch woman was not in his future, yet whether he liked it or not, she was very much in his present. More than anything, Joachim wanted to keep her safe from Victor and from anyone else who might cause her harm.

  THREE

  In her dream, Sarah watched Victor raise his hand to strike her. She screamed, then flailed her arms and tried to free herself from the shroud that covered her.

  “You are safe.” Hands reached for her, removed the heavy covering and pulled her into an embrace.

  Not Victor, but the Amish man.

  “Shh,” he soothed, cradling her like a child.

  It was the first comfort she had felt in far too long. She buried her head against his neck, wanting to remain forever enveloped in his warm and protective hold.

  Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, wetting his cotton shirt. Hearing the rain, she was more than grateful to be under cover and out of the storm, and even more grateful for the human contact.

 
The rapid thump of his heart proved the Amish man wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She nestled closer, not wanting to open her eyes or leave the security of his embrace for which she had hungered too long.

  Thunder crashed overhead.

  “Joachim?” A woman’s voice said the name, her tone filled with surprise.

  Another clap of thunder.

  Her Amish protector tensed and pulled back ever so slightly.

  Sarah clung to him for a moment before her eyes fluttered open.

  His head was turned. She followed his gaze to the woman dressed in a calf-length blue dress, white apron and bonnet, who stood just inside the open barn door.

  Outside, rain pummeled the earth. The day had turned dark as night. Or was it night already? She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The woman’s questioning frown seemed equally dark. Perhaps she was the man’s wife. The thought cut through Sarah’s heart. She had been such a fool.

  Embarrassed by her neediness and the way she had reached out to the man, she untangled her arms from where they had wrapped around him.

  He glanced down at her, a glint of confusion flashing from his dark eyes.

  Was he upset that his wife had found him giving comfort to a woman who wanted nothing more than to return to his embrace?

  “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to make sense of what had happened. “I was asleep. I didn’t realize...”

  “Who are you?” the Amish woman demanded, glancing first at Sarah and then turning her frosty gaze to the man. “Joachim, is there something you did not tell me in your letters?”

  “She needs help, Rebecca.”

  “Yah, and it looks like you need help as well from the way you clutched the Englischer to your heart.”