moment, Ezra tugged the reins right. The mare turned onto a narrow dirt lane that angled off the main road. A canopy of tree branches brushed against the buggy’s roof.
Rosie glanced at the road just as a white sedan raced past. Instead of being seen, Ezra had maneuvered the buggy into a hiding place that protected them both.
She let out a ragged breath.
Ezra leaned close, his face mere inches from hers. Concern filled his gaze and his voice was tight with emotion.
“Who is he, Rosie?” Ezra demanded. “Who is after you and why?”
“Take me home, Ezra.”
“Who is after you, Rosie?” he again demanded.
“You have heard recently on the news of bikes being forced off the road and of Amish injured for no likely reason.”
He nodded. “Yah, this I have heard. But those incidents were caused by unruly teenagers who wanted to make trouble. This white car was not driven by a teen.”
“Did you see the driver?” Her tone was rife with defiance.
“Only from a distance when I first crested the hill. The windows of his car were tinted. With the failing light, I could see nothing when the vehicle passed by just now.”
“Then you cannot say who was at the wheel.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Rosie had been a determined young girl in school. She was even more so now. If only she would explain what had happened to her and why.
Ezra had no doubt that it involved Will MacIntosh, a known troublemaker who had convinced Rosie of his love. Will had gotten tied up in a number of schemes and died because of his involvement. Ezra had thought Rosie was an innocent bystander, but now he wondered if she knew more than she was willing to reveal.
She started to climb down from the buggy.
“Where are you going?” He grabbed her arm. “I will take you home.”
“You do not have to do this.”
“You are in danger, Rosie. Accept my help.”
She hesitated for a moment, then with a stiff sigh, she scooted back onto the seat next to him. “You are a generous man, Ezra.”
He almost laughed. His father had called him confused and misguided. Even now, many in the Amish community were less than cordial when they passed in their buggies. Ezra had spent too much time associating with the Englisch, trying to find his way in life.
With a flick of the reins, he turned Bessie onto the main road. The temperature had dropped, and although the rain had eased, the damp air was chilling. Ezra grabbed a blanket off the back seat and wrapped it around Rosie’s slender shoulders.
“I am not cold,” she insisted, yet her shivering body revealed the truth. He did not mention her pale skin or the fatigue that even the darkness could not hide.
Under other circumstances, he would have lit the lanterns at the sides and rear of the buggy, but tonight, caution was important in case they needed to hide in the underbrush again.
Someone wanted to do Rosie harm.
Do not get involved, Ezra’s voice of reason warned. The advice came too late. Whether he liked it or not, he was already involved.
Rosie and Ezra traveled in silence as the buggy meandered along the narrow mountain road. The closer they drew to her house, the more concerned she became about facing her father and anticipated his caustic words and demeaning gaze. If not for Joseph, she would run immediately upstairs and hole up in her room. But her child was the only spark of joy in her life, and she would not reduce the limited time she had with him. If only she did not have to work and could be with him throughout the day. Her father had recently demanded payment from her to cover the cost of food and shelter, which had left Rosie with no choice but to take employment in town.
“Thank you,” she said to Ezra as her parents’ home came into view. “You were very kind to bring me home.”
“I will fix your bike and return it to you. I have much to do tonight, but day after tomorrow, it should be ready.”
“Danke.”
“I must return to town in the morning, so I will drive you to work.”
His offer bought tears to her eyes. She glanced away, thankful for the darkness so he could not see her reaction.
“I do not want to take advantage of your thoughtfulness,” she said, her voice filled with emotion that even she recognized.
“It is no trouble. What time do you start work?”
“At seven. It is too early, yah?”
“I will be at your house by six fifteen.”
“I will be ready.” She started to climb down and then hesitated. “The man who came after me has brown hair with a patch of white at his temple. He thinks I have something that belongs to him.”
She hopped to the ground and ran toward her house. The front door opened and her datt stepped onto the porch.
“You are late,” he grumbled.
“An older patient named Mr. Calhoun was in pain and needed help.” She lowered her eyes and hurried past him. Before stepping inside, she paused and gazed back at the roadway.
Ezra glanced over his shoulder. Even from this distance, she could see the smile that played over his full lips.
Her father scowled. “Why does Ezra Stoltz bring you home?”
“I fell from my bike. He was good enough to help me.”
“He is not someone with whom I want you to associate.”
Her heart sank. Why was anything she ever wanted to do forbidden by her father?
“You remember what happened to his parents.”
Their buggy shop had been robbed and his mother and father had been murdered during the break-in, but their tragic deaths had nothing to do with Ezra.
Rosie’s father scowled even more. “Ezra was drinking at a bar in town that day instead of helping his father in his shop.”
Which probably saved Ezra’s life. He might have been killed, along with his parents, if he had been home. Not that she was willing to voice her objection to her father. Some battles were not worth fighting.
“He has not courted or taken a wife,” her father continued. “Nor has he joined the church. This is not a man with whom I wish my daughter to associate.”
Her heart ached at her father’s bigotry. Did he not see the plank in his own
