Читать книгу Amish Christmas Secrets - Debby Giusti - Страница 15

Ezra woke with a start the next morning and blinked, trying to distance himself from the dreams that had circled through his mind. He had tossed and turned all night as visions of a young Amish woman with golden hair and blue eyes disturbed his usually placid slumber. What was it about Rosie Glick that put him in such a state of flux?

With a heavy sigh, he rose from the bed, feeling confused and frustrated by the way his mind continued to focus on her troubled gaze that tugged at his heart. He poured cold water from the pitcher into the ceramic basin and washed with a vengeance as if to cleanse himself of any residual influence she might have on his life.

His father had called Ezra a dreamer who allowed thoughts of what could be to interfere with the reality of the present moment. Since his father’s death, Ezra worked to remain in the present, which did not include a pretty woman with a troubled past.

With two hours of chores awaiting him, he hurried to the barn and was soon joined by his brothers, fifteen-year-old Aaron and eight-year-old David. Working rapidly, the three of them milked the cows, then fed and watered the livestock.

Inside the house, his two eldest sisters, Susan, seventeen, and Belinda, three years her junior, prepared breakfast. When the chores were finished and after washing at the pump, Ezra climbed the porch steps and pushed open the kitchen door, breathing in the rich aroma of fresh brewed coffee and homemade biscuits hot from the oven.

Susan turned from the wood-burning stove and greeted him with a smile as he wiped his boots on the rug and hung his hat on the wall peg.

His oldest sister cared for the four younger siblings, for which Ezra was grateful. Susan was pragmatic and task-oriented, not a dreamer like her older brother.

Seven-year-old Mary, blonde and blue-eyed, had gathered eggs from the henhouse earlier and now brought the cool milk and butter inside from the bucket, where they had remained overnight. Aaron and David followed her into the kitchen.

At one time before his parents’ deaths, Ezra had thought of ways to get out of work. Now he focused on the farm and what needed to be done. The responsibility to feed and care for his siblings had fallen hard on his shoulders. If he had been less of a dreamer and more attentive to his parents, they might still be alive.

His five siblings gathered at the table and followed Ezra’s lead as he bowed his head to pray. The others were oblivious to the struggle that plagued him. His own inciting role in his parents’ deaths weighed him down like a giant millstone, as the Bible said, so that he had trouble offering thanks. At least his youngest brothers and sisters had been at school that day and away from the house. Perhaps that fact was the blessing on which he needed to focus.

Aaron had been working in the fields, and Susan had been at a quilting. If only their mother had gone with her.

He raised his head and reached for his fork, needing to redirect his thoughts. “Tell me, David, what you are learning at school?”

The boy looked pensive as he spread apple butter on a biscuit. “We learn our sums.”

“And you mind the teacher?”

“Yah. Why would I not?”

Thankfully, David had not followed in Ezra’s footsteps.

“You are going to town again today?” Susan asked.

He nodded. “I must take the buggy to the blacksmith. Something is wrong with the springs.”

“If you opened Datt’s buggy shop we could check the springs ourselves,” Aaron said. “It has been a year and four months, Ezra.”

“Someday, Aaron, but not now.”

“There are buggies in the shop near ready for sale,” his brother persisted. “You helped Datt. You could finish the projects he began.”

Aaron gave Ezra more credit than he deserved. “Perhaps after Christmas and into the New Year.”

His brother shook his head. “In January, we will be cutting ice for the icehouse. Come February, you will have another excuse.”

“Whether we open the shop this winter or not, I am still going to town.” He turned to Susan. “Is there something you need?”

“Susan would like to go with you.” David smiled impishly and reached for another biscuit.

“Davey, eat your breakfast and mind your mouth,” Susan admonished. “It should be filled with food and not words that make no sense.”

Evidently, Ezra was not the only one aware of Susan’s interest in John Keim, the blacksmith’s son.

“Bishop Hochstetler’s wife has need of a schoolteacher next year since Katie Gingrich and Benny Trotter are courting,” Belinda explained, sounding older than her years. “She says they will surely be married by the time school starts again.”

Knowing his sister’s long held desire to teach, Ezra forced back a smile. “Have you forgotten your sums, Belinda? You are fourteen.”

“I soon will be fifteen and sixteen the following year. I would make a good teacher.”

“I believe you would.”

“The bishop’s wife will search to find someone within the community,” Belinda insisted. “A teaching job would provide income. This would be a gut thing.”

“Yah, bringing money into the house would be gut, yet you are needed here. When your sixteenth year approaches, we can discuss this again.”

Her enthusiasm faltered. “Susan cares for the family.”

Ezra nodded. “Susan is getting older. She must think of her own future.”

“Not long ago, you said she is to think of the family first and her future second.”

Ezra had said exactly that, but since then, his heart had mellowed. Perhaps he was yearning for his own freedom. He pushed aside the thought. Regrettably, he had turned his back on his family once. He would not make that mistake again.

He ruffled David’s hair with one hand and squeezed Mary’s chubby cheek with the other, wishing the twinkle would return to her pretty eyes. She was too young to grieve so long.

Ezra pushed back from the table. “Breakfast was gut. Thank you, Susan and Belinda.”

He smiled at his youngest sister, hoping to bring a smile to her lips. “And danke, Mary, for gathering the eggs. You, too, are a help to your sisters.”

Mary nodded but refused to smile, bringing sadness to his heart. If only he could change the past.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped to the door, grabbed his hat and then glanced back at Susan. “Shall I tell John Keim you have a lovely voice and might accept a ride to the next youth singing?”

Her cheeks pinkened. “Tell him I send my greetings.”

Ezra hurried to the barn and harnessed Bessie to the buggy. He would visit the blacksmith and talk to the blacksmith’s son to determine if John had the makings of a good husband for his sister. Ezra was not ready to lose Susan’s help, but he would not stand in her way to have a family of her own.

He thought of Rosie, trying to raise her son. From what Ezra knew about her father, Rosie was not receiving the support she needed. All the more reason for Ezra to help her in whatever way he could.

The road to the Glick farm angled downhill. Bessie’s gait was sprightly, and both he and the mare enjoyed the brisk morning trot. Ezra would give Rosie a ride to work today. Tonight, if he got home early enough, he would fix her bike and deliver it to her home tomorrow.

He did not want her on the road alone until he asked questions in town about the big man in the white sedan. Ezra had not seen him before, although these days he did not go to town often. Earlier, before his parents’ deaths, he had run with some of the Englischers. He remembered most of the people, but not the older man with the splash of white hair.

He did remember Will MacIntosh, but he would not mention his name to Rosie. She had been swayed by Will’s handsome looks and lavish spending. Ezra had been caught in the deception of the world as well and had yearned for material possessions and the money to buy them.

He did not blame Rosie for leaving the Amish way for a time, but he did blame Will for taking advantage of her innocence.

Rosie woke before dawn and prepared to leave her house earlier than usual. She worried Ezra would forget his offer to give her a ride. If so, she would be forced to walk to town.

“You should stay home,” her mother insisted.

“I am scheduled to work. Plus, it is payday. I must get my check.”

“And what will they say about the cuts and scrapes to your face and hands?”

“I will tell them I fell from my bike just as I told you.”

“Your father could take you in the buggy,” her mother suggested.

Rosie shook her head. Datt would not agree to making the trip to town just so his daughter—a daughter he still had trouble accepting back into the family—could pick up her paycheck at an Englisch nursing home. Much as her father wanted Rosie to contribute to the financial needs of the family, he also struggled with her recent decision to seek employment in town.

“Another Englischer will catch her eye,” her father had grumbled to her mother, and Rosie had overheard.

Forgiveness was the Amish way. Unfortunately, his daughter’s mistakes were too hard to forgive.

She grabbed her black cape from the peg near the door, and after kissing Joseph, she hurried outside. Her father stood in the door of the barn and peered questioningly at her as she walked briskly toward the road.

Brave though she wanted to be, her heart pounded rapidly in her chest. If Ezra did not soon appear, she would have to make the trip on foot and would need to be on guard as she traveled along the roadway. Thankfully, the sound of horses’ hooves alerted her to an approaching buggy. Her heart lurched. Not from fear but from a sense of thankfulness as she spied Bessie rounding the bend. Good to his word, Ezra had come to fetch her this morning.

Rosie stood at the edge of the pavement and waved as his buggy approached.

“Have you been waiting long?” he asked as he pulled the buggy to a stop.

“I just came from my house. Your timing is perfect.”

Ezra reached for her hand and helped her into the seat next to him. The warmth from his body drove away the chill of the morning air.

“Your cape is not thick enough for such a cold day,” he said.

Just as before, he reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her.

“Thank you, Ezra, for the blanket and for the ride, although I hate to take you from your farm.”

“I need to be at the blacksmith’s today and do some other errands in town. So you have not taken me from what I had already planned to do.”

Rosie had half hoped he was making a special trip to see her, but that thought would be prideful and would play into the comments her father sometimes muttered about her haughty heart. Datt did not realize being locked in a root cellar had left her anything but proud.

“You did not see the man again?” Ezra flicked the reins and hurried his mare along the road. The sun was rising, and the morning light cast a surreal glow over the mountain.

“I pray I do not see him again,” Rosie stated as she tucked the blanket around her waist.

“I will inquire about him in town.”

“It is not your worry, Ezra. Please do not add this burden to your daily tasks. I am sure he left the area last night when we saw him drive past.”

Ezra glanced at her for a long moment before he turned his gaze back to the road. “As focused as he seemed to be to do you harm, Rosie, I do not think he will disappear so easily. Perhaps there is something you are not telling me.”

He glanced at her again and asked, “Are there secrets you must hide?”

Her cheeks burned, but she held his gaze. “You need not burden yourself with my mistakes, Ezra. You have your own past with which to struggle.”

His brow furrowed and his lips drew tight. He glanced back at the road, making her believe the rumors she had heard about Ezra were true. For a period of time, he had forsaken the Amish way and had gotten caught up in the allure of the Englisch.

It was something they had in common.

Still she did not want to discuss her own past with a man who had only yesterday acknowledged her for the first time since she had returned home.

“Let’s talk of something other than the past,” she suggested with a defiant shake of her head.

“Two months ago, I applied for the job at the nursing home,” she shared, needing a neutral topic to fill the silence.

Ezra kept his gaze on the road as she chatted. He did not speak for far too long, as if lost in his own thoughts. Thankfully, his interest seemed to pique when she started to discuss Mr. Calhoun, the delightful older gentleman with whom she had formed a special bond at the nursing home.

“Last night his rheumatoid arthritis was causing him undue pain,” Rosie said. “He asked for medication but none was given. Finally, I went to Nan Smith, the new night nurse. She promised to straighten out the confusion. Mr. Calhoun does not have a family, but he is such a kind man and appreciates anything I do for him.”

“I am sure you brighten his day with your pretty smile.”

Her pulse quickened, and she wondered if she had heard Ezra correctly. No one had ever said she had a pretty smile. She did not need compliments or flattery, yet hearing Ezra’s comment and seeing the sincerity in his gaze brought a smile to her lips.

“You are generous with your words, especially for an Amish man.”

“Amish men speak the truth, Rosie.”

Her heart fluttered with the speed of a hummingbird drawing nectar from a blossom. In an effort to calm the rapid rhythm, she focused on Mr. Calhoun and their special relationship.

“Hopefully, the night nurse cleared up the pain-medicine problem so he got the rest he needed,” she said, as they entered town.

The Christmas decorations added a festive charm to the morning, and in spite of everything that had happened, Rosie’s spirits lifted. Ezra turned onto a side street and pulled Bessie to a stop in front of the nursing home.

The double doors were adorned with two large wreaths tied with shiny red bows. Potted pines, decorated with sparkling white lights and red bows, sat on each side of the double doors.

He pointed to the parking lot.

Rosie pulled her eyes from the twinkling lights and followed his gaze. Her euphoria vanished, replaced with dread as she spied a white sedan identical to the one that had tried to run her off the road yesterday.

“Stay with me,” Ezra insisted. “Do not go to work today.”

“Surely the car belongs to someone else. I will be all right, Ezra. You need not worry.”

“The blacksmith’s shop is on Sycamore Street off the square. If there is a problem, you can find me there.”

She hurried inside and passed the Christmas tree decorated with gold and red bulbs. Hurrying along the hallway to the left, she rounded an arrangement of poinsettias that surrounded a Norfolk Island pine and stopped short. A man stood in the doorway of the manager’s office. Thankfully, his back was to her, but the streak of white hair confirmed he was the same man who had attacked her last night.

The manager’s voice filtered into the hallway. “Come on in, Larry, and close the door.”

At least now, she knew his first name.

Had he found out where she worked and followed her here? Or was his presence a coincidence that had nothing to do with Rosie or her job? She would not wait to find out.

Turning down a side hallway, she hurried to the kitchen, located on the far wing, where she would hide out this morning, preparing the patients’ trays. By the time breakfast was served, the man would be gone.

At least that was her hope.

Ezra tied Bessie to the hitching rail and entered the nursing home. Whether Rosie wanted his help or not, he needed to ensure she was all right.

He walked past the Christmas tree and turned down a nearby corridor to the right, where he was greeted with a bevy of activity as aides dressed in pastel-colored scrubs hurried from room to room, waking patients and getting them ready for the new day. He headed down one hall after another, but he could not find Rosie.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he glanced into a patient’s room.

Someone came up behind him. “May I help you?”

Ezra turned to stare into the face of a middle-aged man with dark eyes and a receding hairline. He was big and bulky and appeared in good physical shape.

“Do you have a reason to be in Shady Manor?” the man demanded.

Ezra glanced at the name tag hanging from a lanyard around the man’s neck. Bruce O’Donnell, Shady Manor Manager.

At the end of the hallway, he spied another man. The guy with the patch of white hair stood staring at both of them.

Ezra needed a reason to be on the nursing-home premises, without making mention of Rosie. Her favorite patient came to mind.

“I know it is early,” Ezra said. “But I came into town this morning and wanted to see how Mr. Calhoun is doing.”

“Are you kin?”

Ezra shook his head. “No, but he is a nice man who enjoys company. Could you direct me to his room?”

“Visiting hours begin at nine, after the patients have eaten breakfast.” The manager pointed him toward the nearest exit.

Ezra wanted to find Rosie, but not when the man with the streak of white hair was watching his every move. He headed outside and pulled his buggy around the side of the building, where it would be less noticeable. Ezra would stand guard at the nursing home for as long as Rosie’s assailant remained inside.

In less than thirty minutes, the big man left the care facility through a side door. He walked quickly across the parking lot, climbed into his car and drove off.

Ezra let out a lungful of pent-up air. Minutes later, Rosie ran outside. Her face was pale. Tears streamed from her blue eyes.

He grabbed her hand. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Oh, Ezra!”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hurried her to the protection of the buggy. “Tell me what happened?”

“Mr. O’Donnell called me to his office. He is the manager of the nursing home. He—he claimed—”

Ezra rubbed her arms and waited as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Someone told him I was snooping around in patient records last night.”

“I do not understand.”

“It probably had to do with Mr. Calhoun. I had talked to the night nurse. She planned to check his chart, but I never looked at any of his records.”

“Did you tell Mr. O’Donnell?”

“He would not listen. He said medication had been stolen, and...”

She hung her head. “He accused me of being a thief.”

“This does not make sense. Are you sure you heard him correctly?”

Rosie nodded. “He fired me, Ezra. He refused to give me my back pay and mentioned calling the police.” Her eyes widened. “I am frightened.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Do not be afraid, Rosie. You are safe now.”

Only she was not safe, and the danger seemed to be getting closer.

She laid her head on his shoulder as the tears fell.

“Shh,” Ezra soothed. Rosie was soft and warm and smelled like lavender. Everything within Ezra wanted to take away her pain and protect her from anyone attempting to do her harm. He pulled her even closer, wishing he could wipe away her tears.

“I wanted to say goodbye to Mr. Calhoun,” she whispered. “But when I went into his room—”

“What happened?”

“Mr. Calhoun—” She glanced up. Sorrow filled her eyes. “Oh, Ezra. Mr. Calhoun is dead.”