At Home in Pleasant Valley (65 page)

She slipped into the children's bedroom. Sarah slept as intently as she did everything, her arm around her rag doll.

In the crib, Gracie lay on her stomach, thumb in her mouth, eyelashes forming perfect crescents on her rosy cheeks. She stirred a little as Anna pulled out the diaper bag and began to fill it.

She would take the essentials. There was no time for more. Pete could be on his way here right now. Her vivid imagination gave her too clear a picture of him rushing down the country road in a fast car, sweeping into the house, snatching Gracie. Disappearing with her.

Law-abiding people were always at a disadvantage when it came to defending themselves against the people who didn't go by the community's rules. The Amish were among the most law-abiding people anywhere, and so maybe the most vulnerable.

Anna swept the room with a quick glance to be sure she hadn't missed anything crucial, and then touched Gracie's cheek lightly.

“Komm, Gracie. We have to go now.”

The child's eyelids fluttered. She looked at Anna and gave a sleepy smile. “Mammi,” she murmured.

Anna's heart clenched. She lifted Gracie into her arms and took the blanket that lay over the end of the crib. She might need that tonight. Who knew where she'd be by then?

God knew. Samuel's voice echoed in her mind.
Trust God, Anna. Trust the people who love you.

She couldn't. Not because she doubted their love, but because they had no idea what they were up against. Confronted with Pete, Daadi would make allowances for him, thinking him a father who surely had some right to his daughter, no matter what papers he'd signed.

Samuel, a little wiser in the ways of the world, would still try to reason with Pete. He wouldn't fight back—that would violate his most deeply held beliefs.

Hoisting the diaper bag to her shoulder, Anna took a last look around the bedroom. They had been happy here. They'd been safe and loved. But the safety had disappeared now, and she couldn't believe that love alone would keep them safe.

Myra stood at the bottom of the stairs. She watched as Anna came down, frowning a little. “Anna, what is this? Where are you going?”

She forced herself to smile, hoping she could look and sound natural. It hurt to deceive Myra, who was as dear to her as a sister.

“I need to run over to Rosemary's for a bit.” That part of it was true enough. “I thought I'd take Gracie along. May I use your horse and buggy?”

“Ja, of course.” Myra didn't lose her puzzled look, but she agreed without hesitation. “We'll talk later then, ain't so?”

Anna nodded. Later. Later, maybe, she could write to Myra, try to explain. Try to tell her how much she regretted this step.

She hurried away before she could say more. The image of Pete rushing down the road filled her mind.

She sped toward the barn. Thank heaven no one was in sight. No one stopped to ask her what she was doing or where she was going.

By the time she reached the barn, panic had a grip on her throat.
Run, run
. The words pounded in her mind. Run, just as she'd run when she left Chicago. Just as she'd run when she left here the first time.

Myra's mare poked her head over her stall door and whickered a welcome. Anna set Gracie down in the pen that was sometimes used for young animals, clean and empty now. The baby would be safe there while Anna harnessed the horse.

Go to Rosemary's. That was the first step. Rosemary would lend her English clothes, surely, and drive her to Mifflinburg. Once there, she could get a bus to Harrisburg, maybe change there and go on to Baltimore. Baltimore was a big enough city for one woman and a small child to get lost in.

She had to hurry. Samuel could be telling Daad even now. Pete could be driving up the lane.

The mare, maybe affected by Anna's fear, began dancing, her hooves
thudding against the wooden floor. Perhaps even Betsy knew Anna was crying inside at the thought of leaving.

“Hush, now, Betsy. Steady.” The mare quieted at her voice, tossing her head a bit.

The barn door scraped. Anna spun toward the sound, and her breath caught. Pete stood there, fists clenched, eyes dark.

“Where is my baby? Where is she?”

S
amuel
had told them, and Anna would never forgive him. He walked out of the shop, giving Elias and Joseph the space they needed to discuss what they would do.

As for him—well, he already knew what he had lost, didn't he? He'd had no choice. All Anna could think was to run, as she had run before.

God had used her running then to bring her home again, where she belonged. Surely He couldn't mean for her to leave again.

He walked away from the shop and stopped in the yard, not sure what to do. Maybe he ought to try talking to Anna again. He half-turned toward the house, but his eye was caught by the glitter of sunlight reflecting off something metal.

A car, parked up the rutted track that led from the road to the barn. The barn door, standing open. An icy hand seemed to grip his heart. Anna—

He began to run, his heart thudding. The man she feared must be there. Had he followed them after all? Anna and Gracie were in danger.

He reached the barn door, thrusting it wider as he went in. The man who stood facing Anna didn't even seem to notice.

“Give me that baby!” He punctuated the words with a violent gesture of his clenched fist.

Anna stood between the stalls, and beyond her Samuel spotted Gracie pulling herself up on the small pen. Anna held Myra's buggy horse by the halter. The mare shifted nervously at the unusual sounds.

“Anna. Are you all right?”

She looked at Samuel, her eyes wide and dark.

He took a step toward her, his gaze focused on hers as he spoke in
the dialect the stranger wouldn't know. “Listen to me. Chase Betsy toward him, and then run and get the baby. Try to get over here to me.”

She gave a faint nod.

“What're you saying?” Pete swiveled toward him, and any hope Samuel had of reasoning with the man vanished. Pete's thin face was distorted with anger, his eyes wild and dangerous.

Samuel held out a hand, as he would to a skittish horse, automatically trying to calm him. But all his attention was on Anna.

“Anna, schnell.”

Anna let go of the halter and slapped Betsy's rump, giving a wordless shout. Betty's hooves scrabbled on the wooden floor, and she lunged toward the open door, baring her teeth at the unaccustomed treatment.

Samuel held his ground, knowing the mare was too smart to run into him. Pete shied away like a frightened animal himself, throwing up his hands to shield his face.

Anna snatched Gracie into her arms and whirled, but there wasn't time. She couldn't make it to the door before Pete recovered.

The distraction let Samuel move. He put himself between Anna and the stranger.

“Watch for a chance to run. It will be all right.”
Please, God, let that be true
.

“Talk English, I said!” Pete took a step toward him and seemed to gain some marginal control of himself. “Found yourself a boyfriend, Annie? He can't help you. You just walk over here and give me that baby.”

Samuel kept his gaze fixed on the man as he would on a copperhead in the woods. From the corner of his eye he could see the shake of her head.

“Gracie is my daughter, Pete.” Her voice was calm, even reasonable, but Samuel heard the terror beneath the words. “You know that. You signed the papers. You told Jannie you didn't want anything to do with a baby. Remember?”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind. She's my kid. I want her.”

“The law says Gracie is my daughter.” The edge of desperation was more noticeable.

“I don't see any law around. Just farm boy here.” Pete jerked his
head toward Samuel. “You think you could hide from me in that costume, Annie? You always thought you were smarter than everybody. Always telling Jannie she could do better'n me. Well, I found you, didn't I?”

“How did you do that? I covered my tracks pretty well.”

Samuel knew what Anna was doing—stalling for time, trying to keep him talking. But time for what? Who would come to help? He should have gone for someone instead of racing in here.

“Your friend at the restaurant kept chasing me away. I went back one night, figuring I'd bust up his office. Then I saw his file cabinets. Guess whose job application form was in there. Yours, with the name of some bakery where you worked before, right here in the middle of nowhere.”

Anna's lips pressed together. She'd said her friends wouldn't give her away, but she obviously hadn't thought of that application. She seemed to take a breath, as if to rally herself. “So you came here. I saw you in town.”

Pete grinned. “I saw you, too. Didn't want to start a fuss out in public, so I just thought I'd follow along at a safe distance. See, the guy at the gas station already told me where the Beilers lived, so I didn't have to get too close.” His face darkened suddenly. “Enough of that. Give me the baby.”

“Why? You don't love her. You don't even know her.”

“She's mine. I'm taking her.” He flexed his fists. “You think farm boy here is going to stop me?”

“I will not fight you.” Samuel said the words slowly in English. “But I will not let you take Gracie.”

Pete didn't respond. Maybe his words hadn't even penetrated. Instead, he charged toward Anna.

Samuel stepped between them. He could not hit the man, but he could put his body between Anna and danger, and he would.

Pete jerked back, anger flaring in his face. Then he swung.

Samuel made no effort to deflect the blow. Planting his feet, he took it, hands at his sides, like being hit full in the stomach by a horse's kick.

“You think I'll back off because you won't fight? You're wrong.”
Pete swung again, this time catching Samuel on the jaw, snapping his head back.

“Stop it!” Anguish colored Anna's voice. “He won't hit you because it is against our faith. Please, Pete. Give Gracie a chance to have a decent life. That's what Jannie wanted for her.”

“
My
kid,” Pete muttered, shaking his head. “Mine.” He feinted, trying to get around Samuel. Samuel stepped into his path again. How long? How long could he do this?

Pete charged him, his fists connecting viciously. Samuel's head spun, and he staggered back a step.

Had to stay on his feet. Had to. If he didn't, there'd be nothing protecting Anna and the baby. Couldn't let go, couldn't . . .

His feet went out from under him. He struggled, trying to get up. Pete kicked him, sending him back down again.

Red haze threatened to envelop him. He fought it, hearing Anna cry out. Blinking, he tried to focus, saw Pete grab Gracie and send Anna to the floor with a blow.

Gracie gave a frightened scream. Samuel struggled to get his knees under him, push himself up. Pete was going. He was heading toward the door with Gracie . . .

“Stop!” Elias's voice sounded like a clap of thunder. “Stop now!”

•   •   •

Anna
had never heard anything more welcome than her father's voice. She rolled to her side, pushing herself up, trying to clear her head. Daadi was there. Daadi would make it right.

In an instant, sense came rushing in. What could Daadi do? Pete would not let one old man stop him.

“Daadi, don't . . .”

“You think you can stop me, old man? You want to fight?”

“I will not fight you,” Daadi said evenly. “But I will not let you take my grandchild.”

“We also.”

Joseph was there, clinging to the door to stay upright until Myra slid her arm around him. Matthew pressed close to Daadi's side, his
young face filled with determination. The four of them filled the doorway. Her people.

“You can't stop me.”

But for the first time, she heard doubt in Pete's voice. She forced herself onto her knees.

“Pete, stop and think. You don't want to do this. You can't take care of a baby. What kind of life will you give her? How can you travel and hang out with your friends when you have to watch a baby?”

Pete shook his head, his face twisting. “Tell her to quit the screaming. I can't think with all this screaming going on.”

“She won't stop just because I say so. She needs comforting. She needs her mother. Please, give her to me, Pete.”

“No!” His face contorted. “I'll take care of her. She's my kid.”

“How will you care for her?” Daadi's voice was stern. “You have beaten an innocent man who would not raise a hand against you. You have hit a woman who loves the child. Is that how you will take care of her?”

“I wouldn't hurt the kid. Just make her stop crying.” Pete's voice rose. He shook Gracie. Her crying lifted to a frightened shriek.

A fresh jolt of terror went through Anna. “Is that what you told Jannie? That you wouldn't hurt her?” Her heart was beating so hard that it drummed in her ears. Was he hearing any of this? “How long do you think it will be before you strike out at Gracie?”

“I wouldn't.”

But she thought there was hesitation in his tone, and her heart leaped with hope.

“A father wants what is best for his children,” Daadi said. “No matter how much it hurts him, he does what is best for them.”

He didn't press. He just stood there, looking at Pete, his face grave. Waiting.

Please, God. Please, God
.

Pete's expression hardened, as if he'd made a decision. He strode toward the four who stood in the doorway, and her heart seemed to stop.

He thrust Gracie into Daadi's arms. Gracie buried her face in her
grossdaadi's shoulder, her shrieks fading away into sobs as he cradled her in his arms.

Joseph and Myra moved back, clearing a path. Without a word, Pete walked away.

A sob shook Anna. She managed to crawl the few feet to Samuel even as the others hurried toward them.

“Samuel! Are you all right?” Stupid. Of course he wasn't all right. He had let Pete beat him. For her and Gracie.

His smile was the slightest twitch of his lips. “We are all right now.” Then his eyes glazed, and he slumped into her arms.

•   •   •

Anna
bent over Gracie's crib. She winced a little as the bar brushed her ribs. Once again, she had Pete to thank for a set of bruises, but this was the last time.

Oddly enough, she had no doubts about that. God had delivered them today. He wouldn't let them down in the days and years to come.

She stroked Gracie's hair, crooning to her. Gracie's eyes drifted closed as sleep claimed her. Anna lingered, reluctant to leave the room. Though she didn't doubt God's care, it might take a while before she felt easy when Gracie was out of her sight.

She kissed her fingertips and touched them lightly to Gracie's forehead. “Sleep well, my sweet girl,” she whispered.

She tiptoed from the room. Judging by the sounds coming from downstairs, most of the family was still here. They'd begun arriving within an hour of Pete's departure, summoned by that mysterious Amish grapevine that seemed to work better than any telephone. Even Bishop Mose had heard and had come.

Anna started down the stairs, listening to the hum of voices in the kitchen. The women were there, it seemed, while the men had taken over the front porch.

Bishop Mose saying thanksgiving had, she thought, short-circuited all the wondering and questioning. The right reaction to such unprecedented events, his attitude seemed to say, was to praise God for His deliverance.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and hesitated. She wanted, no, needed, to see Samuel. To assure herself that he was all right.

He'd refused to let the paramedics take him to the hospital, insisting that his bruises would heal and nothing was broken. Maybe so, but the need to see for herself drove her to find him. A glance through the window told her he wasn't on the porch with the other men.

She went back to the kitchen, to be greeted by the smiling faces and loving voices of the women. Rosemary, who'd arrived with a message from Liz moments after Pete had left, had gone home finally, saying she'd call Liz back.

Everyone else was here, waiting. Leah, sitting on the bench with little Rachel asleep in her lap and her stepdaughter leaning against her shoulder. Myra, her face filled with a peace Anna hadn't seen there in what seemed a long time. Barbara, cutting slabs of apple walnut cake that Esther was passing around.

Her people, Anna thought again, as she'd thought when they'd put themselves between Gracie and danger. Not saints, just ordinary people who loved her. Her family.

“Did she go to sleep all right, poor lamb?” Barbara asked. “She wasn't still upset, was she?”

“No, she is fine.” Anna hesitated, feeling as if she should say something to them, something of how she felt, of how dear they were to her.

“Ser gut,” Leah said softly, her face communicating she knew exactly what Anna was thinking. “Everything is gut now.”

Anna nodded, sure that if she did try to speak, she would burst into tears.

“Samuel insisted on going out to check on the horses,” Myra said, her voice casual. “If you wanted to go out for a breath of air, you might tell him there's cake and coffee ready anytime he wants.”

Anna's heart filled. “Ja. I will.” She went quickly out the back door.

They would talk about her and Samuel once she'd gone, but that didn't bother her as it once had. She understood now that it was all in love.

Their voices faded as she walked out into the cool evening. She stepped off the porch and paused. Would Samuel have gone over to his barn?

But there he was, leaning on the fence, watching the young colt grazing in the ring. Like a bird heading for its nest, she went to him.

He shifted toward her as she walked across the grass and joined him at the fence. His face was so battered that she grew in a shaken breath at the sight, but his eyes were peaceful.

“How are you?” She touched his hand where it lay on the rail, and he clasped hers instantly.