The Amish Witness. Diane Burke
and apron. “I don’t know what you are doing here at this hour but I am glad you are. I hate to think what would have happened to me if you hadn’t come when you did.”
“Who was he?” Thomas glared at her. He knew his emotions were flashing across his features, but he was too surprised at what had happened, too shocked at whom it happened to, too upset to gain control. “What did he want? Why was he trying to hurt you? And what are you doing back at your mamm’s house?”
“Let’s go inside.” She threw a nervous glance over her shoulder. “I don’t know if that man is still around.” She took a step forward and stumbled.
Immediately, Thomas reached out, clasped her elbow and steadied her. “Are you hurt?” he asked again.
“No,” she whispered. “Just shaken up.” She placed her head against his chest for just a second while she steadied herself. He could smell the fresh scent of her hair despite her prayer kapp covering locks he knew were silky and blond. He remembered her scent, fresh soap and lemon, from their rumspringa days, when he’d lie awake at night and think of her.
Before she’d betrayed him.
Before she’d abandoned him.
Pain and anger washed over him. Where had she been all these years? And why was she back?
She felt small and fragile leaning against him.
He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hold her closer, tighter. Maybe if he did, she wouldn’t run away this time.
But she was good at that, wasn’t she? Running away. Leaving without a word.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She straightened and stepped away. “When I think of what could have happened if you hadn’t come...if you hadn’t helped.” She stared at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Denki, Thomas.”
What had happened between them seven years ago was ancient history. They both lived different lives now. He wouldn’t let himself feel or remember or care. Not again.
But images of the man’s hands around Elizabeth’s throat filled him with rage. The possibility of what could have happened threatened to overpower him with a raw, primal fear. He had lost her once. He wouldn’t be able to handle losing her again. Especially in such a heinous way.
Lord, everything happens in life according to Your plan. But this? Lord, help me understand and be strong enough to accept whatever Your plan entails.
“Elizabeth?” Mary Lapp called, presumably from the top of the porch steps. “Are you all right?” Her voice drifted into the barn. “Thomas, are you out there?”
“We’re coming, Mamm.” Elizabeth picked up the few unbroken eggs she was able to gather from the barn floor and started toward the house. Thomas silently followed.
As they drew closer, Mary called out, “When you didn’t return with the eggs I became concerned. I thought I may have heard a commotion. Is everything all right?” Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw her daughter’s face in the lantern light. “Elizabeth, you look scared to death! What happened?”
Elizabeth kept shooting glances over her shoulder and staring into the shadows as she hurried up the porch steps to the safety of the house. As she brushed past her mother and entered the house, Mary shot a questioning look his way.
“Thomas?”
He cupped the older woman’s elbow with his hand. “Let’s go inside, Mary, where it’s warm. We’ll talk there.”
Without another word, Mary led the way. She set the lamp on the small wooden table inside the front door and followed the sounds of Elizabeth moving about the kitchen. Mary stood with Thomas in the doorway.
Elizabeth tried to appear calm and unflustered, but her hands shook as she tried to fill three coffee mugs without spilling any of the hot liquid, giving her away.
“Elizabeth? You’re frightening me.” Then she looked at Thomas. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied, his tone of voice grave. “There was a stranger in the barn when I arrived. I saw Elizabeth fall to the floor and the man put his hands around her throat...”
Mary gasped. Her hand flew to her chest and she rushed to her daughter’s side. “What man? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
Thomas’s eyes never left Elizabeth’s face but he spoke to Mary. “I thought it was you. I knew you were expecting me so I didn’t announce myself. When I saw what he was doing I panicked. I grabbed a pitchfork and raced over to help.”
“Who is this man, Elizabeth?” Mary put her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders and turned her around. “Is that why you were staring out the window this morning into the darkness?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“How did this man find you? Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t know him but—but I saw him. I saw him do something terrible. I am sure he followed me here. We are a small community, Mamm. You know it would be easy to find our farm once he came into town. He only had to mention my name and any Amish person would have been able to direct him.”
Elizabeth collapsed into the nearest chair and hung her head. She couldn’t seem to meet their eyes.
“I didn’t know that Elizabeth had returned home,” Thomas said into the uncomfortable silence.
“She only arrived yesterday afternoon,” Mary replied. “There was no time to let you know.”
“Did you tell her I kumm every morning to milk the cows and clean the stalls?”
“No. I—I couldn’t seem to find the proper time to bring up the subject.”
Thomas’s eyes locked with hers. “You thought if she knew I worked this farm every day that she would run away again, didn’t you?”
Mary looked away, but not before he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. Her voice dropped an octave. “Of course not.”
Before either of them could say anything more, Elizabeth spoke. “Please. Stop.” She wrapped her hands around her mug, then squared her shoulders and looked directly at him. He saw the determination in her posture, the strength in her resolve. This was a different Elizabeth than the girl who had left years ago. This was a strong, independent woman staring back at him and Thomas found the changes intriguing.
“Denki, Thomas. I am grateful you were here to help me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t arrived when you did.”
“Did he hurt you?” Mary asked. “Oh, my, look. Your throat is red. It will probably be badly bruised.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I’m okay. He frightened me. But I am fine now.”
Mary gently touched her arm but asked no further questions, giving her daughter the time she needed to compose herself and tell the story in her own way.
“Gut.” Thomas remained standing in the doorway. “I am glad you were not hurt.” He lifted his flat-brimmed winter hat, ran a hand through his blond hair and put the hat back in place. As much as he wanted an explanation, he knew it wasn’t his place to demand one. His heart slammed against his chest. His lungs threatened to rob him of breath. He hadn’t seen Elizabeth in years and here she was right in front of him. To think that just a minute or two longer and she might have died at the hands of a stranger in her very own barn was more than he could handle at the moment. He’d get the details later. For now, he needed distance so he could breathe. “I will leave the two of you to speak in private.”
Before either of them could respond, he nodded at both women. “Excuse me. I have work waiting for me in the barn.” He strode as fast as he could