pressed the wadded-up paper towel to her forehead and frowned. “I’m fine, really.” There was that word again. “I just want to go home.”
Miss Ellinor’s features grew pinched. “Child, I know you like to put on a brave face, but if you don’t get that cut checked out, you’re going to end up with a big scar on your forehead. It would be a shame to mar that pretty face of yours. Wouldn’t you agree, Deputy Jennings?”
Nick felt a corner of his mouth tugging into a grin, despite suspecting his amusement might annoy the young woman. Miss Ellinor, the pastor’s wife, was a chatty soul who said whatever was on her mind. Being a woman of a certain age and position, no one seemed to call her on it. “A scar on that pretty face would be a shame.”
Sarah squared her shoulders, apparently unsure of how to take his compliment.
Nick tipped his head toward his patrol vehicle. “I’ll take you to the emergency room.”
“Is this really necessary?” Sarah skirted past him and clearly had no intention of getting into his car.
“Would you rather I call an ambulance?”
Sarah sighed heavily. “I do not need an ambulance.”
Nick decided to change his line of questioning. “Any idea who might have tossed a rock through the window?”
Miss Ellinor shook her head. “Bored kids causing trouble, I suppose.”
Nick thought he noticed Sarah blanch. “I’m a social worker, and every other Sunday, to coincide with the Amish Sunday-night singings, I run a group meeting for Amish youth who may have alcohol or drug issues. Or other concerns.”
“Really?”
Sarah slowly turned, her sneaker pivoting on the gravel. “Is there something wrong with that? This community is an underserved area. For some Amish youth, the years leading up to their baptism can be stressful. It’s a huge decision, which can lead to unhealthy behaviors to deal with stress. Because of their insular life, they are often ill equipped to handle the temptation of drugs and alcohol.” Despite the cool bite to her tone, she sounded rehearsed, like she was reading from a brochure.
“No, ma’am. I didn’t mean to imply that what you’re doing is wrong. Do you have reason to believe someone from your meeting tonight took issue with you? Or something that was said?”
Sarah adjusted the paper towel on her forehead. “I’m a social worker. Unfortunately, being...” she seemed to be searching for the right word “...harassed on occasion is one of the challenges of the job.” She cut her gaze toward him, making a show of running her eyes the length of his deputy sheriff’s uniform. “You can understand that.” Unfortunately, in today’s climate, he could.
“I’m issued a gun. What do you have for protection?” His pulse ticked in his jaw, anger growing in his gut. If some punk was messing with a social worker who was trying to help him, Nick would have to set him straight.
“Oh my, we’ve never had trouble here before.” Miss Ellinor’s hands fluttered at the collar of her floral shirt. Her white hair seemed to glow under the bright porch light.
Sarah reached for Miss Ellinor’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t know what to do with a gun. And,” she said, lowering her voice, “I don’t think someone would be receptive to my help if I had a gun strapped to my body.”
“Any self-defense classes then?” Nick didn’t understand why he was so interested in this woman. He was here to answer a call about a broken window. See that she receive medical attention. That’s it.
“I took a few self-defense classes back when I was in college. But, I do my best to avoid conflict. Beats getting my head trapped in a headlock.” Half her mouth quirked up. Nick could tell she was trying to defuse the situation with humor, but what happened here tonight wasn’t funny.
Sarah cleared her throat and pulled the paper towel away from her forehead and suddenly seemed impatient to leave.
“Wait by the vehicle. I need to check out the broken window. I won’t be but a minute.”
Sarah nodded.
“Make sure she gets that cut looked at, Nick,” Miss Ellinor hollered after him.
He waved and smiled. “Sure thing.” He had a feeling that was going to be a difficult promise to keep.
Nick checked out the broken window, then went inside and assessed the damage. A large rock sat in the middle of the room. Punks.
When he returned to his vehicle, he found Sarah standing alone. “Miss Ellinor had to go in. She’s babysitting her granddaughter. The pastor’s not home. I told her I’d clean up the mess tomorrow.”
Nick nodded, but didn’t say anything. Sarah looked tiny standing next to his cruiser, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other arm wrapped around her middle. A large bag resting on her hip. He opened his passenger door and she cut him a cynical gaze. “Not going to make me ride in the back?”
“Are you a criminal?” He arched an eyebrow.
Without answering, she slipped into his car. “I’m not going to the hospital. You can take me directly home.”
Despite Sarah’s firm tone, her hands shook under the dome light as she fastened her seatbelt. She looked like a deer frozen in headlights, uncertain if safety existed a few steps away or if annihilation under the massive weight of an eighteen wheeler bearing down on her was inevitable.
* * *
The familiar sight of the interior of the patrol vehicle, with all its lights, displays and gadgets made Sarah suck in a breath, only to inhale the distinct police-car smell: part antiseptic, part vinyl, part whoever had been transported in the backseat. And the crackle of the radio sent Sarah reeling back to another time.
Sarah threaded her trembling hands, trying to maintain her composure. Trying to stay in the here and now. I will not have a panic attack. I will not give this man a reason to question me any more than he already has. I can do this.
Breathe...
“Any idea which of your clients could have thrown a rock through the church window? Anyone particularly angry or rude this evening?”
Sarah shook her head, not trusting her voice. “I’d just be guessing.” Or lying. Did she really believe it was one of the Amish men or women from her meeting tonight? “If you don’t mind, I’m tired. Can you please take me home?”
“I promised Miss Ellinor I’d get that cut on your head looked after. I’m not a man who goes back on a promise.”
Sarah sighed heavily. She wasn’t up for all this chivalrous stuff. She had been conned by the biggest con man himself, and she didn’t trust herself when it came to reading people’s—no, scratch that—men’s true intentions.
Act tougher than you are. Don’t let him take control.
Sarah shifted in her seat and squared her shoulders. “Truth be told, I don’t have any insurance, and as you might have guessed, living in Apple Creek, working as a social
