always put the community’s needs before their own. Had living in the Englisch world changed her? Was she not Amish anymore?
She needed to rethink her situation. She couldn’t bring evil here...unless it was too late and she already had.
I will be back. Keep your mouth shut if you want to live.
A chill raced over her bones as she remembered the stranger’s words.
Maybe she should go to the sheriff and tell him what she knew.
But the Amish frowned on involving outsiders in their business. They handled things together as a community whenever possible. Besides, the murder had happened in Philadelphia. What could the local sheriff do here?
How could she convince this man that she didn’t know his name and wouldn’t be able to identify him so she wasn’t a threat? And what did he think she had? Did Hannah really tell him she’d given something to her that this man was willing to kill for? If she could talk to him, convince him she was no danger to him, maybe he would believe her and go back to Philadelphia.
The memory of his dark eyes and threatening sneer seized her breath.
Or maybe she wouldn’t talk to him.
Dear Lord, how have things gone so terribly wrong? Please guide me to make good decisions. Don’t let my foolishness hurt others.
Stepping outside, Elizabeth paused at the top of the porch steps and took a good look around the farm now that daylight had arrived. It was beautiful here. Peaceful. Quiet. It seemed like millions of miles away from bottleneck traffic, talking on cell phones and witnessing her best friend’s murder.
But was it far enough?
She placed her fingers gently against the tender flesh of her neck. She could almost feel her attacker’s grip on her throat. She knew with certainty he would return. And now, because of her selfishness, she had led an evil man straight to the doorsteps of the people she loved most.
Please help me, Lord. Please give me wisdom and guide me. I don’t know what I should do now.
She stood in silence and waited.
What? Did she expect some booming voice from heaven to start telling her what to do?
What was wrong with her? She knew better. Gott answers all prayers. He speaks quietly in the inner recesses of one’s soul. Sometimes the answer is yes, sometimes no, sometimes wait. But He answers.
She needed to learn patience and to relearn trust. Maybe He’d be slow to answer because it had been so long since He’d heard from her. For seven years she had not gone to Him for guidance, or little else for that matter. Maybe He no longer recognized her voice.
I’m sorry, Lord. Forgive me.
Placing her fears in Gott’s hands, she stepped into the yard and headed for the barn.
* * *
Thomas had milked the cows, put the tall metal containers of milk outside the barn for pickup for market, moved the horses into the pasture, cleaned the manure from the stalls, laid fresh straw and finished sweeping the wooden floor. There was nothing left for him to do, but he couldn’t make his feet carry him to the house. Elizabeth was in the house.
A flood of emotions—anger, guilt and something else he wouldn’t acknowledge—tormented him.
It was not the Amish way to hold on to anger. He’d thought he’d forgiven her. But when he saw her again, anger simmered in his blood as fresh and strong as it had the day she’d betrayed him and left.
Guilt gnawed at his insides. How could he allow himself to have any feelings of any kind for Elizabeth? Wasn’t that a betrayal of his dear Margaret? He’d have to keep his distance. He wouldn’t let himself betray the memory of a wife who had loved him with all her heart...like he had once loved Elizabeth.
“Thomas?”
He froze. The soft tones of her voice caressed his nerve endings like hot caramel coating an apple in autumn. His emotions tumbled and fought each other for center place. Anger won.
“Ja?” He turned to face her. He grasped the pitchfork tightly and, barely noticing the whitening of his knuckles, tried to hide the anger flooding through his body. He knew he had failed when she glanced into his eyes and he saw guilt and sorrow looking back.
“Mamm wanted me to ask if you are almost finished with your chores.”
He nodded. “They’re done.”
“Gut. She has a hot breakfast waiting.”
“Denki.” He knew the word of thanks hadn’t hidden the iciness in his tone but he couldn’t help it. He needed time to process his feelings. Time to ask the Lord to help him forgive. Time to figure out a way to be in her presence without his heart shattering into painful shards.
She nodded and turned to leave.
“Elizabeth,” he said quickly.
She froze but didn’t turn back toward him.
“Who was that man? Tell me. What are you running from?”
“I’m not running from anything.”
He caught her arm with his hand and turned her toward him.
“Is that what the Englisch taught you? To lie?”
She didn’t move a muscle. She couldn’t meet his eyes, either.
When she didn’t answer him, he threw more questions at her.
“Why did you leave with Hannah? How could you leave your church and abandon your faith?”
“I never abandoned my faith.” She kept her eyes down. “I believe today as I have always believed.”
“You left your parents and your community.” His voice was filled with accusation and hurt before it broke into a hoarse whisper. “You left me.”
Silence beat loudly between them.
Thomas murmured a prayer for Gott to forgive him for harboring these negative feelings and to give him the strength he needed to forgive Elizabeth. When he spoke again, he tried to soften his tone.
“I deserved more than that handwritten note your mother gave me, which said nothing more than goodbye. We deserved more.” He stared at her slumped shoulders and continued to wait for an answer that didn’t come.
Slowly she lifted her face. “Thomas...” Her eyes pleaded for understanding but her words offered no explanation. Pain stabbed through his chest.
What had happened to his Elizabeth? Who was this stranger standing in front of him?
“Why did you kumm back?” He glared at her, his heart holding such hurt he could hardly bear it.
“This is my home. Where else should I be?”
He recoiled in shock as if she had slapped him. He
