Relieved that her secret hiding spot had not been discovered, Rosie slipped out of her torn dress and into her nightgown, but she was unwilling to go back downstairs. She did not have the energy to face her datt’s questioning gaze or the concern she had seen earlier in her mother’s eyes. Plus, she did not want to talk about her foolish mistake of falling for an Englisch man, which had caused her mother so much pain.
Rosie crawled into her narrow bed and extinguished the lamp. For these last seven months, since she and Joseph had been found, Rosie thought she had been safe, but the car tonight had run her off the road. The man demanded information Will had stolen.
Her stomach tightened. For her child’s sake, she needed to find out what Will had done. When Joseph was older, he would want to know the truth about his father.
Her eyes had not fooled her today. The man with the streak of white hair was the same man she had seen at Will’s trailer.
The man had killed the father of her child.
Now he was coming after her.
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,