Sam stood up from the chair outside Sarah’s door and stretched his legs. Hours had passed since Rebecca had left with Jacob. He hadn’t heard a sound lately, and the silence made him uneasy. Quietly, he opened the door and peeked inside.
He was surprised to see Sarah out of bed and standing at the window. Her floor-length robe seemed to swallow up her petite, frail figure. The swish of the door opening drew her attention.
“Hi.” Sam stepped into the room. “Are you supposed to be out of bed?”
Sarah offered a feeble smile. “The nurses had me up a few times today. I won’t get stronger just lying in bed.”
Sam could see she wasn’t having an easy time of it. Dark circles colored the skin beneath her eyes in a deep purplish hue. The telltale puffiness told him that she’d been crying. Her sky-blue eyes were clouded over with pain and perhaps even a little fear.
“It is kind of you to show concern, Detective King.” Her voice sounded fragile and tired.
“Please, call me Samuel.”
He flinched at the sound of his true Amish name slipping from his lips. Donning Amish clothes had returned him to his roots. But the sound of his given name instead of Sam sealed the deal. He had stepped back in time—and it was the last place he wanted to be.
“Samuel.” The sound of his name in her soft, feminine voice drew his attention back to her. She smiled again, but it was only a polite gesture. Happiness never lit her eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“I thought I’d poke my head in and make sure you’re all right.”
“Thank you, but you needn’t bother. I’m fine.” A shadow crossed her face.
Fine? He didn’t think so. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the puzzled expression on her face until she questioned him.
“Who are you, Samuel?”
She stood with her back to the window and studied him.
Who was he? He’d told her he was a detective. Was her loss of memory getting worse?
Sarah went right to the point. “You dress like an Amish man. Our men are not detectives.” Her eyes squinted as she studied him.
She looked as if she might be holding her breath as she waited for his answer.
“I assure you, Sarah, I am a detective.”
“And the Amish clothes? Is it a disguise?”
“Yes—and no. I was raised Amish. I left my home in Ohio and joined the police force about fifteen years ago.”
“Ohio? You are very far from home, aren’t you?” she asked.
Was that empathy he saw in her eyes? She was feeling sorry for him. Didn’t that beat all?
“I wanted to get as far away as I could.” Sam shrugged, and his mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. “Memories aren’t always good.”
She pondered his words before she spoke again. “Don’t the Amish shun you if you leave?”
He found her words interesting. She could pull the definition of shunning from her memory banks but talked about it as if it wasn’t part of her own culture, as if the term was nothing more than something she had read in a dictionary.
“I have no family to shun me.”
The gentlest of smiles teased the corner of her lips. “Everyone has a family at one time or another, Samuel.”
Her words hit a tender spot. She was getting much too personal. He didn’t want to open that door for her. He didn’t want to share that pain. He was acting as her bodyguard, nothing more, and the less emotional connection between them the better.
Attempting to change the subject, he said, “I’m sure you’ve been up and about enough for one day. Why don’t you let me help you get back into bed so you can get some rest.”
She allowed him to hold her elbow and support her as she crossed the room. “It must have been difficult for you to leave your Amish religion behind.”
Her soft blue eyes stared up at him.
Sam smiled. He was fast learning that she was a stubborn woman, not easily distracted when she wanted to know something, and right now it was obvious that she wanted to know about him.
“I left religion behind, not God,” he replied. “I carry God with me every day—in here and in here.” He pointed to his head and his heart. “Memories were the only thing I left behind, painful ones.”
Since her left arm was useless because of the sling and the IV bag and pole still attached to her right hand, Sam put his hands on both sides of her waist to lift her up onto the bed. Although tiny and petite, he couldn’t help but note the slightly thickening waist beneath his touch. The signs of her pregnancy were starting to show, and the protective emotions that surfaced surprised him.
Her saucerlike eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and he fought not to lose himself in their beauty.
“I wish I had some memories,” she whispered.
The minty scent of her breath fanned his face, and the slightly parted pose of her lips tempted him to lower his head and steal a taste of their tantalizing softness.
Instead, he removed her slippers and, after she positioned herself back on the pillows, he covered her with a blanket.
“Memories aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, Sarah. I have memories, but no one to love me. You don’t have memories, but you have people who love you very much.”
She acknowledged his words with a nod and a pensive expression.
Her fragile beauty spoke to him, stirring emotions and feelings better left dormant. Stepping back, he subtly shook his head and reminded himself of his own rules.
Rule number one: never get emotionally involved with anyone in a case.
Rule number two: remember, at all times, that when working undercover none of it is real. You are living a lie.
“So, you didn’t answer me. Why are you dressed like an Amish man, Detective King?”
He searched her face, looking for any signs of fear or weakness. He found instead only interest and curiosity.
“This shooter is highly intelligent. He managed to pull off a massive diamond heist without leaving a trace. No images on surveillance cameras. No witnesses. No mistakes. Until now.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “This time he left behind a pouch full of diamonds. The doctors found the pouch pinned inside the waistband of your skirt when you were brought into the emergency room.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath, but otherwise she remained still and waited for him to continue.
“This time he was sloppy. He left behind a witness. You.” His eyes locked with hers. “He believes that you still have the diamonds in your possession. And he doesn’t believe in leaving witnesses behind. There is no question. He will be back.”
Fear crept into her eyes. “But you told me the doctors found the diamonds. I don’t have them anymore, do I?”
“No. But he doesn’t know that.”
“Then I have to go away. I have to hide. I can’t be around anyone who could be hurt because of me.”
His admiration for her rose. She was worried about people she couldn’t remember, and not about the imminent threat to herself.
“The safest thing for you and for everyone else is for you to return to your community. It will be harder for him to reach you and easier for everyone involved to recognize an outsider.”
“Is he a threat to anyone besides me?”
“He is a really