An Amish Man of Ice Mountain (The Amish of Ice Mountain Series Book 2) (18 page)

Chapter Thirty

“I cannot believe it’s nearly summer and you’ve got a beautiful wife, yet you’re sitting in this hot shed, reading the Bible!” Edward put his hands on his hips and Joseph almost smiled at his
bruder
’s exasperated expression.

“Why the mention of the beautiful wife?” Joseph raised a brow at him.

“Darn it, Joe, you know what I mean . . . I think I’d be doing something else if I was married.” The last word came out a little thin, and Joseph put his finger in the Bible and closed it slowly.

“What’s wrong, Edward?”

His brother kicked idly at a stand of hoes and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Nothing and everything, I guess. Sarah is . . . and I’m . . .”

Joseph sat up straighter on the workbench stool. “You’re not saying that you’re breaking your intentions, are you? I thought—you told me everything was fine before I left the rig.”

“It is, I guess.” Edward glanced at him warily. “Can I tell you something?”

“Am I going to lecture you about it?”

“Joseph,
kumme
on . . .”

“All right. I’ll listen. What?”

Edward drew a deep breath. “One night I was drinking a little bit, maybe a bit too much, but anyway . . . there was this
Englisch
girl . . .”

“Oh Gott.”

“Joseph—it was only one kiss.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It was. I’m serious.”

“All right, what do you want me to say?”

“That you get it. I mean—I heard about what happened when you were sixteen . . .”

“Don’t compare those two things, Edward. I didn’t seek it out and you drink far too much.”

“I haven’t had a drop since I came home. And I’m sorry for that shot about when you were young. I . . .”

“Are you going to tell Sarah?” Joseph asked, wondering if it would be a
gut
idea in the end.

“Are you
narrisch
? Her
fater
would kill me—and she’d probably poison me with some herbal concoction.”

“Maybe you’d deserve that,” Joseph mused.

“Look, I regret it, all right? I wanted to get it off my chest, that’s all.”

“Okay.” Joseph nodded.

“Well, aren’t you going to read me a sermon or go find the bishop or something?”

“Why not?” Edward demanded.

“Because you’re my little
bruder
. . . and because you’re going to sit down here with me in this hot shed and help me work on a surprise for Priscilla.”

“I knew there must be a catch. What are you doing?”

“Well, if you think it won’t upset Daed too much for a day or two . . . I wanted to put an addition on the cabin. You know everyone in the community will probably help, so it’ll go fast. I wanted you to have a place to sleep when you’re at home and then have a little extra room for—well—other
kinner
, should Gott allow that.”

“Now who’s flushing red? Good ol’ Joe, the
kinner
maker.”

“Shut up.”

“All right, let’s see your drawings, though I know they’ll be within an inch to scale.”

“
Danki
, Edward.”

“Back at you, Joe.”

Joseph rolled his eyes. “You, little
bruder
, have got to unlearn your
Englisch
ways or I’ll make you an herbal concoction that you’ll never forget.”

Edward thumped him good-naturedly on the shoulder and Joseph gave him an elbow dig back; and all seemed better with the world for the moment.

 

 

Priscilla looked up from her teacup as she visited with Mary. Jude had come home for lunch and, as usual, went to kiss his wife immediately. Then he caught up a mug and glanced at Priscilla.

“Is Hollie lying down here?”

“What?” Priscilla asked with a smile.

“Hollie . . . she was absent this morning. I assumed she was sick.”

Priscilla placed her cup in her saucer with a hand that shook slightly. “She’s not sick. I kissed her good-bye when we heard the bell.”

“Oh.” Jude turned slowly from the sink. “Priscilla, I’m sure she only stopped to play or got caught up doing something . . . I bet she’s at Frau Umble’s right now.”

“The Umbles’ house is past the school gate. She wouldn’t have stopped. I have to find Joseph.” Priscilla clenched her hands together to stop their shaking.

“I’ll go with her, Mary,” Jude said.

Priscilla heard his mug clatter in the sink as if from a long way away. Then she was out the door, running, running to Joseph with Jude hard on her heels.

 

 

Joseph was about to pour his
fater
some soup when Priscilla tore through the front door. Bear began to bark in alarm as Jude followed her. Joseph watched as Priscilla yelled Hollie’s name, then stopped dead in front of him. He put down the soup.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, already knowing the answer as his heart began to thump.

“Hollie’s missing.”

“
Ach
, dear Gott . . . how do you know?” Joseph caught her stiff frame in his arms and looked at Jude.

“She wasn’t at school even though Priscilla sent her.”

“Perhaps she’s playing somewhere,” Abner suggested. “Let Bear loose; he’ll find her anywhere on this mountain.”

“She may not be on the mountain,” Joseph said slowly.

“What?” Priscilla cried. “Do you think he’s had time to get her away so fast? Surely, with the hike and all . . .”

Joseph swallowed hard. “Priscilla . . .”

“What? What is it?”

“Bishop Umble told me that he wrote to your father a while back to let him know you were all right. He didn’t know that your
daed
might tell Heath where you were.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” she whispered, her face pale, her eyes haunted.

“I didn’t want you to worry and I thought it best to—”

“You thought it best?” She slammed her hands into his chest. “How dare you? How dare you?” She pummeled her hands against him and he kept his arms around her.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.”

She drew a long, agonizing sob and collapsed into him. He held her close, rocking her gently.

“All right, enough of this,” Edward said decisively from the doorway. “We search the mountain first. Get every man out there. And we should call the police.”

“No,” Priscilla gasped. “Don’t let him, Joseph. Heath will hurt her. I know he will.”

Joseph met Edward’s gaze over her head.

“Okay,” Edward snapped. “We handle this alone. Let Bear loose.”

The wolf dog took off at a run once let outdoors. “I’ll follow him,” Edward called. “Joseph, you and Jude round up the men.”

“I want to come,” Priscilla said.

“Of course you’ll
kumme.
Daed, can you stay here and make some coffee? And don’t get all upset.” Joseph was picking up lanterns, and other odds and ends that he stuffed in his pants pockets.

“I wish I could go with you. I can’t do anything,” Abner said, aggrieved.

Joseph put a hand on his
fater
’s shoulder. “
Jah
, you can do something, Daed. Pray.”
Like I should have done when the bishop told me to . . . Dear Gott, let it not be too late. Forgive my foolish pride. Have mercy on Heath, on Hollie . . . And give Priscilla strength beyond strength . . .

He caught his wife’s hand and together they ran with Jude to Ben Kauffman’s to ring the large bell over the store, signaling that there was important information for the community and that everyone should gather.

 

 

Priscilla was grateful that Ben Kauffman had insisted she slip on a pair of moccasins from the store because she knew her feet would have been torn by now from all of the briars. She pushed aside the thought that Hollie had been barefoot when she left for school that morning and focused on keeping up with Joseph.

They passed an area where she thought the secret pool was located and caught up with her husband. “Joseph . . . I never thought, but should we check the water? What if a bear . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence and he squeezed her fingers briefly.

“Some of the men already checked the creek, Priscilla. And we would have heard the dog if there was a bear involved.” His voice was sober and she shuddered, thanking God that it hadn’t been the creek, but what would Heath do?
What will he do if my father has told him I married Joseph? What will he do . . .

She tried to abandon the fretful thoughts when a gunshot rang out from a distance. Priscilla stopped as if she’d been shot herself, but Joseph grabbed her arm.

“
Kumme
on. One of the men has found something. That’s the signal.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Joseph led Priscilla in the direction of the gun signal and soon they crossed the meadow and emerged at the treeline that led to the path down the mountain.

Bear was panting and Edward pointed to a pine tree branch. “The dog found it.” He backed up to join the other
Amisch
men standing silent.

Joseph turned and stared at the bright paper with Priscilla’s picture on top, exactly like the one from the hospital bulletin board. The photo had been stabbed through by a short limb and there was a note in black marker written over the language of the flyer.

Joseph frowned after he read the note aloud.

“What does he mean, if you know where he is?” Edward growled. “How are you supposed to know that? And there’s no way you’re going alone to face some psychopath—sorry, Priscilla.”

Joseph watched his wife shrug and reach her fingers out to trace the written words, as if she might touch Hollie through the paper, like she was in a dream . . .
A dream.

Joseph remembered his nightmare. “He’s at the ice mine.”

Priscilla stared at him. “How do you know?”

“I . . . know. The rest of you stay up here. Priscilla and I will go alone.”

“Nee.”
Mahlon Mast, Edward’s future
fater
-in-law, a tough, grumpy
auld
man, spoke. “We won’t have you go alone, as Edward says. You can approach the mine from behind and we’ll wait on the ridge back there. That way we can
kumme
down from the top should we hear anything that doesn’t sound
gut
.”

“Agreed,” Joseph said after considering. “Let’s move.”

 

 

The trek down the mountain was fraught with palpable tension, and Priscilla stifled a gasp when one of the men shooed a six-foot-long black snake off the trail with the butt of his rifle. It seemed a bad omen to some of the
Amisch
, who Priscilla knew were superstitious at heart given their Appalachian tendencies. She ignored their mutterings until Joseph turned and spoke harshly to the group.

“It was a black snake, not a rattler. It’s not poisonous. It means nothing—but if you must think on it, think of it as a sign there will be no poison spread today.” He turned and continued on, holding back overgrown limbs from Priscilla’s face.

The trail finally broke and bright light could be seen up ahead, but here the search party veered off to the right, tramping through forest where there was no path, sinking sometimes ankle deep in leaf falls and the occasional hidden animal hole. It was treacherous going, but soon they all stood on a rock outcropping.

“The mine’s directly below us,” Joseph whispered in Priscilla’s ear and she nodded. “We’ll go down the side here while the men wait.”

Priscilla saw Edward move forward to grasp his brother’s arm and then turn to give her a quick hug. “Be safe, little sister-in-law.”

She followed Joseph past the men, one of whom hesitantly held out a rifle to her husband. Joseph shook his head and she knew he would not take the weapon, both because he was
Amisch
and because there was no telling what Heath would do.

They made their way down to the right of the entrance to the mine and Priscilla saw with disappointment that the boards stood in place. She almost turned away in despair when Joseph squeezed her hand and pointed to the play of light at the base of the entrance. Someone had lit the kerosene lantern inside. Priscilla understood. Heath had put the boards up from the inside so that he could be aware of anyone approaching. It gave him a distinct advantage, but she knew Joseph was smarter than Heath and waited for her husband’s cue.

Joseph decided to opt for the obvious, seeing no way to undo the boards without making a racket. His hands were sweating but he moved and knocked on the middle board, as plainly as if he were knocking on a
haus
door.

“Heath, it’s Joseph King. We’ve
kumme
as you asked.”

There was a shuffling sound inside and Hollie suddenly cried out. “His ankle’s hurt, real bad . . . He fell down the mountain.”

There was a frantic hiss of words and Joseph saw Priscilla clench her hands in her apron as they both heard Heath grind out, “Shut up, Hollie.”

“If you’re hurt, Heath, we can help,” Joseph said, keeping his voice level.

The top board was ripped off from inside with such fury that the wood splintered. Joseph caught a glimpse of blood-shot blue eyes, filled with vengeance and something beyond sanity, and he almost recoiled out of instinct.

Another board came off and Joseph caught Priscilla’s hand in his, finding her palm surprisingly cool, despite the monster slowly revealing himself. Joseph glanced down at his wife and saw her lips moving.
She’s praying . . . she’s not afraid now . . .

Her posture heartened him and he didn’t move when the third board was thrust outward, broken in two, by a blood-streaked hand. Joseph caught the hand automatically, not exactly sure what he was doing but understanding that he needed to follow his instincts.

He let go of Priscilla and grasped Heath’s hand in both of his, holding on against the incredible pull in the opposite direction. “I’ve got your hand, Heath. It’s going to be all right.”

An inhuman, ragged sound followed and Joseph had to jump back, releasing contact, as Heath crashed his leg through the remaining boards. Joseph gazed at the man, who stood as tall as he was, but thinner, more gangly . . . Yet his limbs seemed swollen by some unholy power as he stood, panting, with teeth gnashing, in the doorway of the mine. His strange, fiery gaze shifted to Priscilla and he lunged, but Joseph was faster.

He put his hands on the other man’s chest and held him back, but only barely.
Dear Gott, he’s strong . . . and completely out of his mind.

Priscilla spoke from behind him, sounding calm and cool. “Heath, where’s Hollie? Can you get her? Then I’ll come with you.”

Joseph blinked.
What is she saying? She’s not going anywhere with this—thing . . .

But amazingly, Heath seemed to respond. He stepped backwards, clinging to the shattered boards for a moment. Then Joseph saw that his ankle was bent at an unnatural angle and was bleeding profusely.

“Heath, you’re hurt,” Joseph said, mimicking Priscilla’s calm, but obviously not having the same effect. The other man growled at him and struck out an effective blow to Joseph’s right shoulder. Joseph staggered for a second but then made a dive for Heath’s ankle.

Joseph gritted his teeth against the pain he knew he was inflicting but he hung on, forcing the broken bones into an even more improbable alignment as Heath screamed. Joseph twisted his body, concentrating everything he had on torturing the broken ankle, and he finally brought Heath down, half in and half out of the mine. Relief surged through him until he heard a familiar voice cry out.

“Joseph . . . Let him go. The rope is almost worn through and I’m going to—fall.”

Joseph recognized Mr. Ellis’s voice, the voice of the trustworthy and loyal
Englisch
friend to his community, from inside the mine, and slackened his hold long enough for Heath to kick him hard in the chin.

“Choose!” Heath commanded. “Let me go or save your friend. Which is it?”

Joseph saw Priscilla bolt past them and scamper into the mine. Then he heard her sharp cry and knew she must have slid on the icy floor.

“Priscilla, dear Gott, the mine is almost solid ice now. Are you all right?” he cried.

“Yes . . . Hollie’s on the far side of the cave and Mr. Ellis is tied by some unraveling rope over the shaft, but I can’t lift him, Joseph. Help me!”

He opened his mouth to call for help, but Heath jammed his fist against Joseph’s teeth, pushing with a stranglehold back against his throat. Joseph bit automatically, feeling sick as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

Then Heath let go and Joseph drew in a ragged breath, only to find himself beneath the other man. Heath lifted Joseph’s head and banged it against the pine-needle-laden ground. Joseph saw stars for a moment but quickly refocused. He focused all of his energy on getting Heath off of him and finally reached for his throat, pushing upward. Heath gagged and Joseph used that moment to let out a yell for help.

“Edward!”

Immediately, like a black-and-white blur,
Amisch
men scrambled down the outer sides of the mine. Edward was first to reach them and jumped over Joseph and Heath to rush inside the mine. Soon other men followed, while some bent to try and subdue Heath’s frantic thrashing and screaming.

Joseph held on gamely but his hands had grown slippery with blood, and somehow Heath wrenched himself free of his grasp and got to his feet. Joseph watched the other man’s eyes dart upward and then Heath was off, scrambling up the rocks that protruded from the side of the mine entrance like an enraged animal, his ankle trailing dark blood. But then Joseph heard the sound of rocks cracking and Heath fell backwards, fast and hard, to land on the ground with a strangled groan.

Joseph staggered to his feet and looked at Mahlon Mast. “Go down to Mr. Ellis’s
haus
and call an ambulance.”

Joseph dragged himself to the large inert figure on the ground and stared down at Heath. The unearthly fury seemed to have left him and his blue eyes stared up at the sky. He twitched and Joseph dropped to his knees beside him.

“Heath, it’s Joseph. Look, I’ll take good care of Priscilla for you. It’s going to be all right.”

A faint shake of the head and Heath drew a long breath. “No . . . it’s . . . hell for me.”

Joseph opened his mouth to try to answer, but a soft voice spoke first from over his shoulder.

“I forgive you, Heath. I forgive you. No hell,” Priscilla said clearly.

“I . . . can’t . . . breathe.”

“Relax,” Priscilla said and Joseph watched her touch Heath’s large, bloodstained hand. Joseph put his own hand over hers and felt tears sting his eyes.

Joseph saw Heath struggle to focus, then a dwindling gray light filled the other man’s eyes as if he was walking backward down a long, dark road . . . and then he was still and gone.