stove. “He never stopped loving you. Never.” Her mother smiled. “And he knew you never stopped loving him. He understood your decision to leave even if he didn’t agree with your choice.”
Tears filled Elizabeth’s eyes.
Silence stretched between them.
She remembered the last day she had seen her father. It had been an early winter morning like today and they’d been talking in the barn. She remembered his look of disappointment, the pain and loss already reflected in his eyes, and the warmth and love of his final embrace moments before she left.
“Elizabeth, please, get that head of yours out of the sky. We have chores to do.”
Elizabeth nodded, gathered plates, silverware and mugs and set the table.
The delectable aroma of bacon and freshly brewing coffee teased her nostrils. Her stomach growled. Because her stomach had been too twisted in knots with dread and fear, she hadn’t eaten much at dinner last night. But this morning she was hungry and nothing was going to snatch away her appetite.
“Could you gather some eggs from the henhouse?” her mother called over her shoulder from her spot at the propane-powered stove.
“If I can bring in a jar of your strawberry jam from the pantry to smother on your homemade bread I like so much.”
Her mother smiled and waved her away. “Ja. Ja. Now go.”
Elizabeth decided not to bother with a coat. From the house to the barn was such a short distance and she would only be exposed to the elements for a brief time. She threw a shawl over her shoulders, grabbed the hurricane lamp and hurried out the door. She’d barely cleared the third step down from the porch when a prickling sensation raced up her spine and froze her in place. She threw her gaze in one direction and then another. Looking. Anticipating.
Nothing.
Just a foolish girl’s imagination running wild. That’s what city life did to you. You don’t trust anything or anyone anymore, do you?
She held the lamp high. The only sound was ice cracking on tree branches. Her feet wanted to scamper across the yard, but she forced herself to step off the final stair and walk slowly and purposely toward the barn.
Dear Lord, please help me stop being so afraid. If he had followed me, wouldn’t he be here by now?
She took one final look around the yard.
Darkness covered the objects and bushes like shrouds.
She knew she was being foolish. No one in the city except her best friend, Hannah, had known she came from an Amish background. And Hannah had never told anyone. Had she?
Mental images of the tall man standing over Hannah’s dead body flashed through her mind. Who was he? And why had he killed Hannah?
When she reached the barn door, she lifted the latch and swung it wide. The pitch-black interior gave her pause. Holding her lantern high, she stepped inside and moved deeper into the barn.
The pungent smells of livestock, hay and manure were a far cry from the exhaust fumes of the city, but they pinged nostalgia, reminding her she was home once again, and it felt good. The cows bawled as she approached, indicating their need for milking. She’d have to hurry with breakfast and get back out here to tend to them so her mother wouldn’t have to.
The clucking sound of the hens in the chicken coop drew her back to the task at hand. She rubbed her hands together and blew warmth into them. Maybe she should have worn her coat. She opened her apron, holding it with her left hand, and reached inside the coop with her right. Soon she’d gathered enough eggs for both breakfast and a pudding recipe she had learned from one of her friends. Her mother would be surprised to discover that life among the Englisch hadn’t been all bad. She’d learned to cook some wonderful recipes. She nudged the door to the coop closed.
It wasn’t a sound that caught her attention. It was a feeling, an innate sense that she was no longer alone. She swallowed and tried to calm the wave of fear threatening to drown her.
It’s nothing, Elizabeth. You’ve been on edge. Seeing bad men in shadows like children see animals in clouds.
But the internal scolding did little to calm her sense of unease.
The squawking and clucking of the hens in the coop gave her pause. The chickens knew it, too. She wasn’t alone. Someone was standing close behind her...too close.
Taking another gulp, she clutched the apron filled with eggs to her chest and turned around.
A man, his face obscured in the darkness, loomed in the entrance to the barn.
Elizabeth gasped. “Who are you?” she asked. “What do you want?”
The stranger moved into the light and Elizabeth’s heart stuttered.
It was him. The man she’d seen standing over Hannah’s body.
“I want what your friend gave you. It belongs to me.” The coldness in his tone froze her in place.
Elizabeth’s eyes shot around the barn. Where could she run and hide? What could she use as a weapon if she was forced to protect herself?
“You know who I am, don’t you?” he demanded.
Elizabeth took a step back. “No, sir, I don’t. Please...leave. I don’t know who you are. I don’t have anything that belongs to you.” She straightened her spine and tried to exude strength she didn’t feel. “If you don’t leave this property, I am going to send for the sheriff.”
Then her deepest fear became a reality. He moved toward her with such speed she barely had time to react.
Elizabeth’s throat muscles froze and she couldn’t scream. She backed up as fast as she could until her body slammed against a solid surface. Trapped against the chicken coop with nowhere to run, sheer panic raced through her veins.
No. No.
Elizabeth raised her hands to cover her face, dropping the edges of her apron. The eggs smashed on the ground and a few rolled across the floor.
Within seconds he was on her, his hands clasping her shoulders, his face inches from her own.
“You want me to leave? Then give me what’s mine and I will.” He shook her shoulders and banged her against the wooden piling behind her. “I’m not playing. Unless you want the same fate as your friend you will give it to me.”
Spittle sprayed across her face as he screamed at her.
She kicked at his shins and tried to scramble from his grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hannah didn’t give me anything. Go away. Please. Leave me alone.”
An almost evil sneer came over his face. “Hannah? So you do remember me.” He dug his fingertips painfully into the soft flesh of her upper arms. “Don’t make the same mistake she did. Just give me what’s mine and we’ll call it even. I’ll go away and leave you to live your life in this forsaken place.”
“Please, mister, I don’t know what you want. I don’t know
