Forsaken (5 page)

“Three hundred hp,” Roc answered.

The younger man's eyes widened, and he gave a low whistle.

Maybe Ephraim was right. Maybe
English
and Amish were more alike than Roc had realized. After all, what man didn't want a fast horse…or a fast car? Roc alighted from the car again and backed away, giving room for the man to peer inside at the tan seats. “You wanna take a closer look?”

But the man remained where he was as if not even tempted. “You were speaking with Ephraim, no?”

Roc introduced himself and they shook hands.

“Levi Fisher.” The man was close to his own age, maybe two or three years younger, and didn't seem to feel the need to impress with a Rocky-style handshake like most guys would; still, his grip was solid and strong without a hint of weakness and Roc got the impression his strength came from within.

“Nice fellow, Ephraim. Is he your grandpappy?”

“No. I work here for Daniel Schmidt. You know Josef and Rachel?”

“Josef and Rachel?” Must be the bride and groom Roc figured. “Can't say I've had the pleasure. Hear it's their big day.”

“
Ja
, 'tis.”

Together, they stared at the car. Had Ephraim sent Levi to make sure Roc left? “You and your buddies like cars?”

“Some.”

“You're not”—what was the word?—“in rum…rum—” Rum might be a diversion for the teens if they were ever introduced to it, as many in New Orleans often were.

“Of running around age?” the Amish man asked. “No.”

“I see.” Sort of. He wondered if it was looked down upon to even show an interest in a car, since they weren't allowed to drive one, so he suggested, “If y'all have a hangout…ya know, somewhere you kick back with a cold one, I could swing by sometime while I'm in the area, give you a look-see.”

“The others might take a shine to your fancy car. Looks like it cost much.”

“More than one of your horses, I'd bet.”

“
Ja
. Horses are cheaper. But provide fertilizer.”

Roc laughed. “Keep that under your hat, will ya? If all the ‘green' folks hear you, they'll have us riding around like y'all.”

A wisp of a smile crossed Levi's features, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “If you've a mind to, you might try Straight Edge Road late tonight. Some of the young folks…hang out”—his use of the
English
phrase broadened his smile—“that a way.”

Roc gave a thank-you nod.

“You know any good places to stay while I'm here in Intercourse…or is it Promise?”

“Promise. But Intercourse isn't far.”

“Prayer answered.”

Levi tilted his head but continued, “There's a bed and breakfast not far. On I-30. Bender's B&B, I believe it is called. Run by a nice family.”

With a tip on where the young and reckless rebelled and a name of a place to stay, Roc slid inside the Mustang and fired the engine. A horse shied, prancing a bit and nodding its head. Levi walked over and helped calm the animal and assisted Roc in backing out and avoiding horse poop, ruts in the drive, and buggy bumpers. Tonight, he'd find out what young Amish kids did for fun and if they knew of any strangers in the area. Strangers with a penchant for blood.

Hannah's stomach knotted.

The wedding was over, the happy couple joined, and now the dinner, of roasted chicken, noodles, and creamed celery, along with potato casseroles, cherry pies, relishes, and all sorts of breads, was ready. Succulent smells of the simmering meats, sugary pies, and yeasty loaves drifted along on the cool autumn air. It was a perfect evening for an outdoor feast, which was good since the family and friends gathered were too numerous to all fit inside the house.

But one thing remained to be decided: Rachel and Josef had not yet chosen which of the single male guests would be paired with which available maids. This wedding tradition in their district of Promise involved matchmaking and wishful thinking, and the idea of being paired with a young man of her sister's choosing made Hannah's stomach harden like a lump of clay left in the sun.

From the porch, she watched the future bridegrooms-to-be (or so the community hoped) follow the wedding couple out of the barn and toward the tables set up outside. Some of the men chatted amiably amongst themselves, their eagerness apparent. Others looked somber; maybe they were just as nervous as she was. As the sister of the bride, she doubted she could get away with not being paired for the evening meal or allowed to hide in the chicken coop.

She looked toward the barn for an escape route. A cow called out from the paddock as its calf thrust its head against her milk bag. Children chased after the lamb, Snowflake, which Katie had nursed with a bottle last spring.

“Careful!” Hannah called to Noah Hostetler, who grabbed for the lamb's tail, but Snowflake scampered into the barn for refuge.

“Whoa!” Levi Fisher stepped out of the wide open doors, caught the running Noah, and swung the young boy high into the air. A smile broke across his tanned cheeks, and his teeth flashed white in the waning sunlight. Noah squealed and squirmed, but Levi's grip was strong and sure. The other children looked up at the tall, broad-shouldered man as he spoke to them quietly, and they scurried back toward the house. As if Noah weighed nothing, Levi swung him upside down then set him back on his feet. As Noah rushed after his friends, Levi straightened his wide-brimmed hat until his gaze met Hannah's, and he held it steady as he walked toward her with purposeful strides.

His clean-shaven jaw, the sure sign of an unmarried man, clenched. Cut from the same cloth as his brother, Jacob—Levi being the eldest—the two brothers resembled each other with Fisher family characteristics—broad foreheads, broader shoulders—but they were boldest in their differences. Jacob had taken after their father with his dark hair and eyes, whereas Levi resembled their mother with fair hair and deep blue eyes. Levi was quiet where Jacob was boisterous and full of life. Or had been. Jacob's curiosity made him adventurous and searching, whereas Levi seemed…content with all that was and never seemed to questions things the way Jacob had.

There had been moments over the past two years, while Levi apprenticed with her father, when she'd hoped Levi would flash a light beneath her window. The trouble was she compared every man with the one she had loved and lost, but her occasional weakness—an attraction to Levi—had been swallowed up by the voice that spoke straight into her heart.

As Levi approached now, striding up the back steps, the intensity of his gaze made her insides shift and stir. “Hannah.” His voice was as deep as the roots of a pine tree. “It is time for supper. Would you care to sit with me?”

His polite question showed he didn't take her acceptance of their pairing as a guarantee and she appreciated his courtesy. Her cheeks grew warm in spite of the coolness of the day, and she dropped her gaze to the wooden floorboards. “
Danke
, Levi.”

“Rachel requested we follow her and Josef.”

Hannah glanced toward her sister, who smiled, her hand on Josef's arm, and Hannah suspected they were discussing the successful pairing. She gave a brief nod to Levi and walked beside him toward the wedding couple. A procession of the newly formed couples began, trailing through the gathered guests until they reached a table designated for the wedding party. Even though Hannah suspected everyone was searching out their own daughters or cousins or nephews, she still felt as if all eyes were on her and Levi, and her heart galloped in her chest.

After a quiet moment of prayer, Levi leaned toward her, his shoulder grazing hers. “It was a fine day for a wedding,
ja
?”

She nodded, her throat tight.

“Josef is a good man.”

“Yes. Rachel is blessed.”

He nodded and sampled the chicken.

Hannah eyed the other couples around them chatting with each other, eating, and laughing. All seemed to be enjoying themselves, even her friend, Grace Wagler, who had been seated beside Amos Borntreger, a pairing Hannah knew Grace would never be pleased with, as Amos had a tendency to wipe his nose on his sleeve. Still, Grace smiled and spoke amiably about the day's events.

Levi seemed comfortable eating and not conversing, which suited Hannah well too. She was thankful he at least had good manners but felt guilty for the silence between them, so she said, “I heard there was an
Englisher
here this morning.”

Levi swallowed and nodded. “
Ja
, drove up with the
newehockers'
buggies in a fancy car. Thought Adam Smucker would trip over his jaw staring at the fancy rig.”

“Did you speak to him? The
Englisher
?”

“Your grandfather did first. But
ja
, I did too. Seemed a nice fellow. Just lost.”

“Were you like the others who ached to ride in the fancy rig?”

He paused, his arm resting on the table's edge. “Nah, Hannah. The
English
world holds no interest for me. There are other things more fascinating to me now.”

Her stomach shifted as his intense gaze bore into her. Embarrassment churned inside her with a steady paddle of heartache. “But Jacob…he yearned for
English
ways.”

Levi's mouth compressed and he stared for a long moment at his plate.

How careless of her to mention his brother! Hard as it was for her to endure her own heartache, a brother must find it equally painful if not worse. She placed a tentative hand on Levi's elbow. “I'm sorry, Levi. I shouldn't have said—”

“It's all right. I know you loved him too.” He leaned toward her, just a slight inclination, but she felt the heat of him pressing against her. “Would that I could make you smile again.”

Never before had he referred to the changes Jacob's death had brought. Never had he dared. But it was her fault for speaking his name, and she glanced away, tears prickling her eyes, then stared at her own plate full of tempting foods that she could not seem to eat. Mamm would think she was sick. Rachel would think she was in love.

She'd learned over the last two years that Levi's features closed up tight and became unreadable when his brother was mentioned. If Hannah said his name at home, Mamm said, “You must move on, Hannah.” If she whispered his name around Grace, her friend patted her arm, hugged her quickly, then directed her attention to Amos or Levi or any of the other available men—anything to distract and discourage looking back, wishing, or regretting.

It's the Lord's will.
That was the Amish way. And she believed it too. Or had. Until Jacob died.

Children romped around the front porch, their clomping and laughter a good interruption. A couple of the older girls rushed toward the kids to quiet them and help them with their plates. Noah's little sister, Esther, who had just learned to walk, teetered forward, but an older girl's quick hand pulled her back from the edge.

Grace murmured something to the others at the end of the table about Ruby Yoder. Ruby had once shared with Hannah about an
English
boy she'd met, and Hannah suspected Ruby had run away to be with him. The district would not have shunned her, as she was not yet baptized, but it would have caused an uproar in her family and her parents much pain. Still, Hannah admired Ruby for following her heart and wished she too had gone away with Jacob.

“Hannah?” Levi's hand touched hers beneath the table. Just a brief encounter but it caused a fluttering in her belly, like a new butterfly taking flight for the first time.

Hannah blinked and lifted her gaze to meet his. Something about this Fisher brother made her feel unsure. Would she have ever felt this way about him if Jacob had lived? Guilt acted on her like a splash of ice water in the face.

“Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm fine, Levi.”

He studied her for what felt like a full minute before he accepted her words. “Are you going to the barn singing tonight?”

She shook her head, lifted a fork, and forced down a bite of buttery noodles. “No, I…uh…think not.”

Tonight, she would go see Jacob.

Hours after arriving in Promise, Pennsylvania, Roc drove around the area, speaking with Mike on the phone, who said there were no leads on the missing Pennsylvania teenager other than she was blond, blue-eyed, and Amish. But the Amish didn't take photographs so no pictures could be compared to the body in New Orleans. The parents had provided hair samples from Ruby Yoder's brush for DNA testing. Still, the girl could be off having the time of her life or regretting her decision to leave home.

Animals discovered by police or citizens on the side of the road or in ditches with their throats chewed convinced Roc he was in the right place and on the trail of whoever had killed Emma.

Roc unpacked his car and carried his bag toward the room at the back of the B&B, passing through a small courtyard, which had a hot tub and gazebo. A Chihuahua sat on the lap of a red-headed teenage girl, yapping until she shushed it. But the girl never looked up, just kept her nose in a book. She was surrounded by wilted, brown plants, which didn't seem any better suited to the cold weather than Roc, but the teen seemed impervious to the chill in her furry jacket. Even her disgruntled lap dog wore a coat, like it was attempting to be Paris Hilton's dog. Whatever the teen was reading caused a smile to curl her lips. A glance at the dark-covered book made Roc shake his head. Anthony should have a talk with this one and compare notes.

“You know,” he said to her in passing, “vampires don't shimmer in sunlight.”

“How do you know? Oh, never mind.” She went back to reading.

According to Anthony there was a lot of misinformation in literature, not that Roc believed in any of that vampire crap. Who would want to read about such nonsense anyway?

He walked on. When he reached the steps that led to the second-story room he'd rented, the girl called to him, “You really should read this.” She waved the book at him. “You might end up a vampire fan.”

“Doubt it.” He doubted he'd be a believer either. Not the way Anthony was. But Roc wondered why such a vile creature had become a superhero. That bothered the judicial side of him, like putting Ted Bundy on a pedestal. “Are you a fan?”

“Oh yeah!” She sat forward, a gleam brightening her eyes.

“Why?”

“They're cool.” Her innocence worried him. Shouldn't evil be called evil? She lifted the book. “They're vegetarians and nice.”

What if they were behind this latest misinformation?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Obviously he'd been driving too much over the last two days. He needed to get some sleep. Still, he hated that this teen—and so many like her—just accepted what they heard as if it were truth.

“So, what…they eat carrots?”

“Are you crazy?”

Probably so for engaging in this conversation.
“Didn't you ever hear you can't squeeze blood from a turnip?” The teen stared at him like his head had just popped off. “These vampires of yours…what do they do? Drink Vulcan blood?” He chuckled at his own joke.

But he was the only one with a sense of humor as the girl rolled her eyes. “They eat
animals
.”

“Like your little Fifi there?”

The girl hugged her persnickety dog tight. “Her name is Bonita.”

“Uh-huh.” Roc wasn't a biologist or anything, but something with teeth and fur wasn't for vegetarians. “Still carnivorous.”

“Whatever.”

And he shrugged off his own foolishness. Why did he bother trying to make sense of something nonsensical?