Once they reached the roadway, Ezra lifted her into the buggy. “Wait here a moment. Then Bessie and I will take you home.”
Working quickly, he retrieved the bicycle and placed it in the rear of his buggy. “I can fix your bike,” he assured her as he climbed into the seat next to her.
Grateful for his help, she relaxed ever so slightly. He lifted the reins into his hands and encouraged Bessie forward.
Ezra studied the road and then flicked his gaze to her as if to ensure she was all right. “Your mother will be happy when you are home, yah?”
Rosie rubbed her arms and lowered her gaze, thinking of her father’s verbal attack and pointed questions.
“Thank you for your help, Ezra.”
He nodded, perhaps as embarrassed as she was after carrying her in his arms. She brushed the dirt from her skirt and thought of the root cellar where she had been held captive.
She would not go back there. No matter what happened.
The clip-clop of Bessie’s hooves soothed her frayed nerves, and she settled back in the seat, trying to think of what she could tell her parents when they saw the gash on her forehead and her scraped arms and soiled skirt.
Her own clumsiness and being too close to the road’s edge would be truthful. She would not mention the man in the white car. Her mother worried about her well-being. The thought of being run off the road would be too much for Mamm to bear.
Lightning cut across the sky, startling Rosie. Rain pinged against the top of the buggy. The temperature dropped even more, and she shivered in the cold.
Through the steady downpour, she saw the headlights of an approaching vehicle in the distance.
Her heart thumped a warning.
“Do you see the lights?” she asked.
“Yah. You think it could be the man who threw your bike into the ravine?”
“Am I foolish to think he would return?”
“Not if you know the reason he wishes to do you harm.”
Unwilling to share her past with Ezra, she sighed. “I—I am not certain.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
“I was involved with the wrong person,” she finally admitted. “It is too much to tell now, but that might be the reason.”
Ezra flicked the reins and encouraged Bessie to increase her pace, which only troubled Rosie more. Instead of turning around in hopes of eluding the vehicle, Ezra was driving the buggy straight toward the approaching danger.
Fear gripped her anew. “Ezra, stop the buggy so I can run into the woods and hide.”
He ignored her request and hurried the mare even more.
Lightning illuminated the sky and a crash of thunder sounded nearby. Bessie’s ears raised. She snorted, no doubt skittish because of the storm.
“Please, Ezra.” Rosie nudged his arm. “Stop the buggy.”
The car was fast approaching. She could hear the roar of the engine just around the bend and could envision being caught in the oncoming glare of headlights.
She swallowed down the fear that clogged her throat and grabbed Ezra’s hand, trying to make him realize the seriousness of her plight.
He pushed aside her hand.
Her heart crashed. Accepting a ride from Ezra had been a bad decision. The boy she remembered from school was cocky, but always considerate of others.
She raised her voice. “Stop the buggy now, and let me out.”
The glare of headlights preceded the car around the bend. She gasped, fearing the man from town would accost her again. Tears stung her eyes at the hopelessness of her situation.
Seemingly at the last possible moment, Ezra tugged the reins right. The mare turned onto a narrow dirt lane that angled off the main road. A canopy of tree branches brushed against the buggy’s roof.
Rosie glanced at the road just as a white sedan raced past. Instead of being seen, Ezra had maneuvered the buggy into a hiding place that protected them both.
She let out a ragged breath.
Ezra leaned close, his face mere inches from hers. Concern filled his gaze and his voice was tight with emotion.
“Who is he, Rosie?” Ezra demanded. “Who is after you and why?”
“Take me home, Ezra.”
“Who is after you, Rosie?” he again demanded.
“You have heard recently on the news of bikes being forced off the road and of Amish injured for no likely reason.”
He nodded. “Yah, this I have heard. But those incidents were caused by unruly teenagers who wanted to make trouble. This white car was not driven by a teen.”
“Did you see the driver?” Her tone was rife with defiance.
“Only from a distance when I first crested the hill. The windows of his car were tinted. With the failing light, I could see nothing when the vehicle passed by just now.”
“Then you cannot say who was at the wheel.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Rosie had been a determined young girl in school. She was even more so now. If only she would explain what had happened to her and why.
Ezra had no doubt that it involved Will MacIntosh, a known troublemaker who had convinced Rosie of his love. Will had gotten tied up in a number of schemes and died because of his involvement. Ezra had thought Rosie was an innocent bystander, but now he wondered if she knew more than she was willing to reveal.
She started to climb down from the buggy.
“Where are you going?” He grabbed her arm. “I will take you home.”
“You do not have to do this.”
“You are in danger, Rosie. Accept my help.”
She hesitated for a moment, then with a stiff sigh, she scooted back onto the seat next to him. “You are a generous man, Ezra.”
He almost laughed. His father had called him confused and misguided. Even now, many in the Amish community were less than cordial when they passed in their buggies. Ezra had spent too much time associating with the Englisch, trying to find his way in life.
With a flick of the reins, he turned Bessie onto the main road. The temperature had dropped, and although the rain had eased, the damp air was chilling. Ezra grabbed a blanket off the back seat and wrapped it around Rosie’s slender shoulders.
“I am not cold,” she insisted, yet her shivering body revealed the truth. He did not mention her pale skin or the fatigue that even the darkness could not hide.
Under other circumstances, he would have lit the lanterns at the sides and rear of the buggy, but tonight, caution was important in case they needed to hide in the underbrush again.
Someone wanted to do Rosie harm.
Do not get involved, Ezra’s voice of reason warned. The advice came too late. Whether he liked it or not, he was already involved.
Rosie and Ezra traveled in silence as the buggy meandered along the narrow mountain road. The closer they drew to her house, the more concerned she became about facing her father and anticipated his caustic words and demeaning gaze. If not for Joseph, she would run immediately upstairs and hole up in her room. But her child was the only