sheriff—Abram’s uncle—smiled ruefully as the two men shook hands. “You’re the only one in the family who acknowledges me, for which I’m grateful.”
“Yah, but if you returned home to Ethridge, you might find some who would offer welcome.”
“Your mother, perhaps. She is a good woman who knows how to forgive. I don’t think your father would be as charitable.”
Abram knew too well his father’s unwillingness to forgive. “My father does not understand a man who leaves his faith.”
“The Amish way was not my way. We have talked of this before.” Samuel sniffed. “You’re a good man to allow me into your life, Abram.”
“I welcome you as the sheriff of Willkommen. You keep the peace so I can live in peace, as well.”
He studied his uncle, seeing the shadows under his eyes and the flash of regret that could not be hidden. “Yet you still question your decision.”
Samuel’s brow furrowed. “What makes you think I’m not at peace?”
“I see it in the set of your jaw and the bent of your shoulders. You carry a heavy load.”
“No heavier than you, my nephew. You still grieve for Rebecca.”
“Yah, and for the mistake I made out of my own pride. Not going to the Englisch hospital when her labor pains started cost Rebecca her life, as well as the life of our child. That is the burden I carry.”
“And the bishop?”
“He says I am forgiven.”
“Yet, what about you, Abram? Can you forgive yourself?”
The sheriff’s eyes pierced the wall Abram had placed around his heart. Three years had passed but the wound was still so raw. A wound he feared would never heal.
Just like Emma’s limp and his good friend Trevor’s tragic death, some mistakes lasted forever.
“God doesn’t exact payment for our wrongdoings, Abram. Remember that.”
“My father would say you are wrong, Samuel.”
“Does your father not have his own burdens?”
Abram smiled weakly. “I was his burden.”
“Perhaps in your youth when you were struggling to find your way, but you remained Amish. That should have brought him comfort.”
Longing to shift the conversation away from the past, Abram said, “You did not come here to talk about my transgressions.”
“You’re right.” Samuel pointed to the mountain road. “Old Man Jacobs said two cars raced down the hill last night. Curtis Idler and my new deputy, Ned Quigley, are talking to him now and trying to get more information.”
Abram turned his gaze to the road. “I am surprised Ezra Jacobs could see anything at night and even more surprised that he would contact the sheriff’s office. As far as I know, he is one of the few Englischers who never installed a phone line.”
“True, but his son, Walt, has been checking in on Ezra and left a cell for him to use in case he needed help.”
“Did he need help last night?” Abram asked.
“Not help, but he was concerned.” Samuel raised his brow. “What about you, Abram? Did you see cars racing down the mountain?”
“Something has happened?”
“One of the cops in the next county found an abandoned car that ran off the road and nearly landed in the river. I’m headed there now. My deputies will join me when they finish talking to Jacobs.”
“The mountain road can be slick and dangerous, yet you question me?”
“I thought you might have seen something. The car was found just over the county line and not far from your property.”
How could Abram forget the man last night who was driving too fast?
“Besides, I had time to kill,” the sheriff confessed. “Bruce Tucker, the chief of the Petersville Police Department, guards his turf like a bulldog. He’ll insist his own officers search the scene before he invites me or any of my deputies on site.”
Abram had heard talk about Tucker being less than cordial. “Chief Tucker does not welcome your help?”
“He does not want anyone’s help. Some folks call him a bensel. Others say he is schmaert like a hund.”
“A silly child or smart like a dog. You have not forgotten the language of your childhood, Samuel.”
“I have not forgotten anything, Abram.” Samuel frowned. “But you didn’t answer my question. Did you see a car on the road last night?”
“Yah. The driver was going fast. I flagged him down and warned him about the bridge.”
“Was anyone else in the car?”
“I saw only one person.”
“Can you describe the driver?”
“The glare of headlights was in my eyes. He leaned out the window, but I could not see his features. He turned the car around and took the fork in the road, heading west.”
“What about the make of car and the license plate?” Samuel pressed.
“A black sedan. I did not think it was important to notice the license plate.”
“Did you check the time?”
“Soon after midnight.”
“Yet you were awake and saw his lights in time to warn him?” Samuel asked.
“Sleep is sometimes not my friend, as you must know.”
His uncle glanced at the house. “What about Emma? Did she see anything?”
“Emma does not have trouble sleeping.”
“Fortunate for her.” The sheriff slapped Abram’s shoulder in farewell before he returned to his car.
As he pulled onto the roadway, Abram climbed the steps of his porch and sighed deeply. He had to find out more about the woman upstairs.
He wanted to know who was after her and why.
* * *
Miriam stared at the tray of food Emma had brought to the guest bedroom. She had tried to eat, but her stomach was queasy and her mind kept flashing back to the smattering of details she could remember about the traffic stop.
In addition to the food, Emma had also provided a clean change of clothes—an Amish dress that she’d pulled from the blanket chest sitting in the corner of the room, along with an apron. Miriam considered herself a jeans-and-sweater type of gal, but the dress fit and she appreciated
