Mary gasped. Her hand flew to her chest and she rushed to her daughter’s side. “What man? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
Thomas’s eyes never left Elizabeth’s face but he spoke to Mary. “I thought it was you. I knew you were expecting me so I didn’t announce myself. When I saw what he was doing I panicked. I grabbed a pitchfork and raced over to help.”
“Who is this man, Elizabeth?” Mary put her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders and turned her around. “Is that why you were staring out the window this morning into the darkness?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“How did this man find you? Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t know him but—but I saw him. I saw him do something terrible. I am sure he followed me here. We are a small community, Mamm. You know it would be easy to find our farm once he came into town. He only had to mention my name and any Amish person would have been able to direct him.”
Elizabeth collapsed into the nearest chair and hung her head. She couldn’t seem to meet their eyes.
“I didn’t know that Elizabeth had returned home,” Thomas said into the uncomfortable silence.
“She only arrived yesterday afternoon,” Mary replied. “There was no time to let you know.”
“Did you tell her I kumm every morning to milk the cows and clean the stalls?”
“No. I—I couldn’t seem to find the proper time to bring up the subject.”
Thomas’s eyes locked with hers. “You thought if she knew I worked this farm every day that she would run away again, didn’t you?”
Mary looked away, but not before he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. Her voice dropped an octave. “Of course not.”
Before either of them could say anything more, Elizabeth spoke. “Please. Stop.” She wrapped her hands around her mug, then squared her shoulders and looked directly at him. He saw the determination in her posture, the strength in her resolve. This was a different Elizabeth than the girl who had left years ago. This was a strong, independent woman staring back at him and Thomas found the changes intriguing.
“Denki, Thomas. I am grateful you were here to help me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t arrived when you did.”
“Did he hurt you?” Mary asked. “Oh, my, look. Your throat is red. It will probably be badly bruised.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I’m okay. He frightened me. But I am fine now.”
Mary gently touched her arm but asked no further questions, giving her daughter the time she needed to compose herself and tell the story in her own way.
“Gut.” Thomas remained standing in the doorway. “I am glad you were not hurt.” He lifted his flat-brimmed winter hat, ran a hand through his blond hair and put the hat back in place. As much as he wanted an explanation, he knew it wasn’t his place to demand one. His heart slammed against his chest. His lungs threatened to rob him of breath. He hadn’t seen Elizabeth in years and here she was right in front of him. To think that just a minute or two longer and she might have died at the hands of a stranger in her very own barn was more than he could handle at the moment. He’d get the details later. For now, he needed distance so he could breathe. “I will leave the two of you to speak in private.”
Before either of them could respond, he nodded at both women. “Excuse me. I have work waiting for me in the barn.” He strode as fast as he could from the room.
He worked for over two hours, refusing to let his mind whisper one single thought. He milked the cows and prepared the containers for the local man to collect and take to market. He cleaned the stalls and pitched fresh hay with such speed and force a sweat broke out on his forehead despite the freezing temperatures of morning.
And although he fought hard to keep Elizabeth out of his thoughts, she crept in softly and slowly, like the sun was doing now with the dawn. He doused the lanterns and, pausing for a moment in the broad opening to the barn, stared at the white clapboard house.
Who was that man? And why had he tried to harm Elizabeth?
He knew it was not his business. He had no right to question her, to demand answers. Their time together had passed long ago. But he couldn’t seem to let it go.
He went to the tack room and washed his hands in the sink, then splashed water across his face and along the back of his neck.
Obviously, Elizabeth needed help. She must have come home looking for that help and trouble had followed her.
Thomas hung the wet towel on a rod, finger-combed his hair and put his hat back on. He sighed heavily.
She had to be terrified, even though she fought hard to make an outward show that she was in control and able to handle things on her own.
What had happened to her over the years? Where had she been?
It was none of his business.
She had made her choice years ago and it had not been a life with him. He had gone on and made a different life for himself. A happy life. One that had no room for her. He thought about his kinner and a smile caught the corners of his mouth. They were his joy. He couldn’t help wanting to introduce them to Elizabeth. Foolish, he knew. But once she had been a friend...and so much more.
Thomas sighed again.
But if someone was terrorizing Elizabeth or trying to do worse, than he would have no choice. He wasn’t the kind of man to walk away when someone needed help. And he would never walk away from Elizabeth when she needed him. He would be a friend to her. He would find a way to help.
Even when the shattered pieces of his heart silently wished he had never laid eyes on her again.
* * *
Elizabeth stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes when her mother came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth reached up and patted her hand. “For what? You did nothing wrong.”
Mary turned Elizabeth to face her. “I’m sorry you had that frightening encounter with the stranger in the barn. I am also sorry I did not tell you sooner about Thomas. I am sure the shock of seeing him again was difficult for you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Mamm? Was Thomas right? Did you think I would run away again?” Elizabeth studied her mother’s face. She’d known she would see Thomas sooner or later. She had tried to prepare herself for it before she returned to Sunny Creek. But she supposed no amount of preparation would have been good enough. The shock of seeing him again—leaning over her in the barn, standing in the kitchen doorway, his blond hair catching the glint of the lamp’s glow—had made her heart seize despite all the self-talk and preparation that had gone before. There were no words good enough to dampen her feelings or assuage the guilt for betraying him.
“Never mind. It’s all right, Mamm.” She put an arm around Mary’s waist. “Let’s sit. We’ll have a cup of coffee and talk this out.”
“Go
