Читать книгу Amish Rescue - Debby Giusti - Страница 15
ОглавлениеIn her dream, Sarah watched Victor raise his hand to strike her. She screamed, then flailed her arms and tried to free herself from the shroud that covered her.
“You are safe.” Hands reached for her, removed the heavy covering and pulled her into an embrace.
Not Victor, but the Amish man.
“Shh,” he soothed, cradling her like a child.
It was the first comfort she had felt in far too long. She buried her head against his neck, wanting to remain forever enveloped in his warm and protective hold.
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, wetting his cotton shirt. Hearing the rain, she was more than grateful to be under cover and out of the storm, and even more grateful for the human contact.
The rapid thump of his heart proved the Amish man wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She nestled closer, not wanting to open her eyes or leave the security of his embrace for which she had hungered too long.
Thunder crashed overhead.
“Joachim?” A woman’s voice said the name, her tone filled with surprise.
Another clap of thunder.
Her Amish protector tensed and pulled back ever so slightly.
Sarah clung to him for a moment before her eyes fluttered open.
His head was turned. She followed his gaze to the woman dressed in a calf-length blue dress, white apron and bonnet, who stood just inside the open barn door.
Outside, rain pummeled the earth. The day had turned dark as night. Or was it night already? She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The woman’s questioning frown seemed equally dark. Perhaps she was the man’s wife. The thought cut through Sarah’s heart. She had been such a fool.
Embarrassed by her neediness and the way she had reached out to the man, she untangled her arms from where they had wrapped around him.
He glanced down at her, a glint of confusion flashing from his dark eyes.
Was he upset that his wife had found him giving comfort to a woman who wanted nothing more than to return to his embrace?
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to make sense of what had happened. “I was asleep. I didn’t realize...”
“Who are you?” the Amish woman demanded, glancing first at Sarah and then turning her frosty gaze to the man. “Joachim, is there something you did not tell me in your letters?”
“She needs help, Rebecca.”
“Yah, and it looks like you need help as well from the way you clutched the Englischer to your heart.”
“Father is in the house?” he asked, seemingly sidetracking the issue at hand.
Rebecca shook her head. “He and Mamm are visiting Aunt Mildred and Uncle Frank in Kentucky. They will be gone for a few more days. Had you written that you were coming home, they might not have left.”
Sarah was trying to follow the conversation and understand the undercurrent of what was really being said. The man had mentioned his father. No, his tone implied that it was their father. Was the woman not his wife?
“Excuse me,” Sarah said, pulling away from him and peering at both of them. “You’re not married?”
The woman huffed. “Why do you think this?”
Evidently, Sarah had jumped to the wrong conclusion. She held up her hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to offend either of you.”
She turned to Joachim. “Thank you for bringing me here. If I could stay in the barn until the storm passes, I would appreciate it.”
His brow furrowed. “You plan to leave?” He shook his head. “This cannot be.”
He climbed from the buggy and motioned to the Amish woman. “We must take our guest into the house.”
Glancing back, his gaze burrowed into hers. “Your name is Sarah?”
She nodded. “Sarah Miller.”
“I’m Joachim Burkholder.” He pointed to the other woman. “My sister, Rebecca.”
The weight on Sarah’s shoulders lifted ever so slightly. Sister. Not wife. Tears again stung her eyes.
“She needs food and lodging, Rebecca.”
The Amish woman stepped closer. Her earlier scowl softened but she seemed hesitant to offer Sarah a hearty welcome.
“We must hurry,” Joachim said. “Before Victor returns.”
Rebecca grasped her brother’s arm. “Victor Thomin?”
“Yah. He is staying at his mother’s house.”
“Ach,” his sister groaned, with a shake of her head. “Naomi said he is not a good man.”
“You know Naomi?” Sarah asked. “Victor’s mother kept asking for her.”
Rebecca nodded. “Naomi lived nearby. She cared for Ms. Hazel while Victor was away.”
Joachim pointed to the open barn door. “The rain eases. We must go inside.”
He reached for Sarah and helped her from the buggy. Taking her hand, he hurried her out of the barn.
Dark clouds rolled overhead. Another storm was approaching, but Sarah breathed in the cleansing air, feeling a sense of relief. She had escaped Victor. She had a place to stay. At least for now, she was free.
A bolt of lightning pierced the sky and struck nearby. The almost-immediate crash made Sarah realize everything could change in an instant.
She would never be free of Victor, not until the hateful man was stopped.
* * *
The rain intensified just before Joachim and Sarah reached the porch. Another sound was discernable over the rain. He glanced at the drive and tensed. A horse and buggy scurried along the main road. For a long moment, Joachim stared after the buggy and then let out a deep breath.
“You thought it was Victor, didn’t you?” she pressed.
He squeezed Sarah’s hand, hoping to provide reassurance and bring comfort to her seemingly still-anxious heart. “Victor will not find you here.”
At least that was Joachim’s hope.
Together they climbed the steps to the porch. He opened the door and motioned her inside. She wiped her feet on the latched rug and hurried into the kitchen.
A sense of calm and right order enveloped Joachim as he stepped over the threshold and stopped to take in the peacefulness that pervaded the space. Glancing at the familiar furnishings—the table and chairs, dry sink and cabinets—his datt had made, Joachim soaked in the aura of home and family he had missed for the last five years.
“Rebecca can brew coffee,” he said, hoping his voice did not reveal the mix of emotions that had welled up within him upon entering the house. He turned to the newcomer. “Perhaps you would prefer tea?”
Sarah glanced at Rebecca, who hurried in behind them.
“I have cold cuts and cheese and fresh baked bread if you are hungry.”
“Thank you both,” Sarah said. “But first, I need to wash my hands and face, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Rebecca pointed to the stairs. “I will take you to the room where you will stay the night. Joachim must tend his mare. We will eat after he returns from the barn.”
His sister turned as if to shoo him outside. But despite her prompting, he was slow to head to the door. He did not want to leave the home to which he had only now returned. He also did not want to leave Sarah.
He gently touched her shoulder. “So much has happened, but you are not to worry. Victor is in town, searching for you there.”
“And if he comes here?” she asked.
“I will not let him into the house.”
Belle needed to be groomed and fed. Rebecca would take care of Sarah until he returned. Still, leaving the house this time was almost as hard as leaving the mountains had been five years ago.
How could he have grown so attached to a woman—an Englisch woman—in such a short period of time? He knew nothing about her except that she needed a safe place to stay for a day or two. He and Rebecca would open their home to her, but Joachim needed to be careful. As taken as he was by her in such a short time, he feared what might happen in the days ahead. He must guard not only Sarah, but also his heart.
