“Move off the mountain. No one wants you here.”

Can this Amish widow survive her dangerous stalker?

Someone wants Ruthie Eicher off Amish Mountain…enough to terrorize the widow and her boys. Now Ruthie must rely on her former sweetheart, Noah Schlabach—the secret father of her eldest son—as they figure out why. But Noah has turned his back on love and the Amish way of life. Can he shield Ruthie...without breaking her heart again?

Debby Giusti, USA TODAY Bestselling Author

DEBBY GIUSTI is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com, blog with her at seekerville.blogspot.com and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com, and email her at Debby@DebbyGiusti.com.

Also By Debby Giusti

Her Forgotten Amish Past

Dangerous Amish Inheritance

Amish Witness Protection

Amish Safe House

Amish Protectors

Amish Refuge

Undercover Amish

Amish Rescue

Amish Christmas Secrets

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Dangerous Amish Inheritance

Debby Giusti

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90669-6

DANGEROUS AMISH INHERITANCE

© 2020 Deborah W. Giusti

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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“You need to tell the sheriff everything that happened...”

Tires squealed around the corner, and a dark sedan with tinted windows approached at a high speed. Noah quickly ushered Ruthie and the boys away from the road. The car’s front tire came up on the sidewalk.

Ruthie screamed and shoved the boys farther from the car. Noah turned as it raced past.

Ruthie grabbed Noah’s hand. “If you had not moved us away from the curb, I fear what would have happened.” Tears filled her eyes.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and then pulled the boys into his embrace, as well. “The car’s gone, and we’re all okay.”

“But—”

He nodded to her, knowing there was a reason the car had jumped the curb, and it wasn’t because the driver was going too fast. He was sure the guy was the same man who had come after Ruthie.

Noah glanced in the direction the car had gone. The guy who wanted Ruthie’s property was becoming unhinged.

One thing was certain: Ruthie and the boys were in his crosshairs.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed this second-chance-at-love story. Ten years ago, Noah Schlabach left Amish Mountain and the woman he loved, never knowing she was pregnant with his son. Returning home, he finds Ruthie Eicher widowed and trying to care for her two boys, as well as maintain their farm. But someone is out to do her harm, and Noah will do anything to keep her and the boys safe.

I pray for my readers each day and would love to hear from you. Email me at debby@debbygiusti.com, write me c/o Love Inspired, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007 or visit me at www.DebbyGiusti.com and at www.facebook.com/debby.giusti.9.

As always, I thank God for bringing us together through this story.

Wishing you abundant blessings,

Debby

Deliver me out of the mire, and let me not sink: let me be delivered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters.

Let not the waterflood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up, and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me.

Hear me, O Lord; for thy lovingkindness is good: turn unto me according to the multitude of thy tender mercies.

—Psalm 69:14–16

In memory of Becky Martin February 28, 1950—April 16, 2019

A beautiful sister in Christ! I miss you, dear friend.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

EPILOGUE

Extract

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Ruthie Eicher awoke with a start. She blinked in the darkness, hearing the patter of March rain on the tin roof, and touched the opposite side of the double bed, where her husband had slept. Two months since the tragic accident and she was not yet used to his absence.

Finding the far side of the bed empty and the sheets cold, she dropped her feet to the floor, tied the flannel robe around her waist and hurried into the hallway. Sorrow twisted her heart as she peered into her father’s room, unoccupied since the buggy crash that had killed her husband and claimed her datt’s life, as well. Had her mother been alive she would have said it was Gott’s will, although Ruthie placed the blame on her husband’s failure to approach the intersection with caution. According to the sheriff’s report, the Englischer’s car had the right of way, which her husband failed to acknowledge.

Ruthie hurried to the children’s room. Even without lighting the oil lamp, she knew from the steady draw of their breaths that nine-year-old Simon and six-year-old Andrew were sound asleep.

Danki, Gott. She lifted up a prayer of thanks for her two wonderful sons, one blond, one brunette, both so different yet so loved. After adjusting the coverings around the boys’ shoulders, she peered from their window and gazed out at the farm that was falling into disrepair.

Movement near the outbuildings caught her eye. She held her breath and stared for a long moment, unsure of what she had seen.

Narrowing her gaze, she leaned forward, and her heart raced as a flame licked the air.

She shook Simon. “The woodpile. On fire. I need help.”

He rubbed his eyes.

“Hurry, Simon.”

Leaving him to crawl from bed, she raced downstairs, almost tripping, her heart pounding as she knew all too well how quickly the fire could spread. She ran through the kitchen, grabbed the back doorknob and groaned as her fingers struggled with the lock.

“No!” She moaned and coaxed her fumbling hands to work. The lock disengaged. She threw open the door and ran across the porch and down the steps.

Cold Georgia mountain air swirled around her, along with the acrid smell of smoke. Rain dampened her hair and robe. She raced to the pump, grabbed a nearby bucket and filled it, then scrambled to the woodpile and hurled the water onto the flames. The fire hissed as if taunting her efforts to quell the blaze. Returning to the pump, she filled another bucket, then another.

A noise sounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting Simon. Instead she saw a large, darkly dressed figure. Something struck the side of her head. She gasped with pain, dropped the bucket and stumbled toward the house.

He grabbed her shoulder and threw her to the ground. She cried, struggled to her knees and started to crawl away. He kicked her side. She groaned and tried to stand. He tangled his fingers through her hair and pulled her to her feet.

She turned, her arms flailing, and made out only a shadowed form of a man. A lady’s stocking distorted his face. A knit cap covered his hair. She dug her fingernails into his neck.

He twirled her around and yanked her arm up behind her back. Pain, like white lightning, exploded along her spine. She reared back to ease the pressure.

The man’s lips touched her ear. “Didn’t you read my notes? You don’t belong here.” His rancid breath soured the air. “Leave before something happens to you and your children.”

Her heart stuttered.

He threw her to the wet ground and kicked her again. Air whizzed from her lungs. She gasped, unable to breathe.

The back door creaked open, and Simon stood in the doorway, eyes wide. “Mamm?”

“Stay...inside.” Ruthie glanced at the now smoldering logs. She was relieved by the dying fire, and even more grateful that the man had disappeared.

Andrew pushed past his older brother and grabbed the rope to the dinner bell that hung on the back porch. His face twisted with determination as he tugged on the heavy hemp. The peel of the bell sounded in the night.

Simon ran to where she was lying and fell to his knees. “Mamm, do not die. Do not die like Datt.”

She wanted to reassure both boys, but all she could think of was that no one would answer their call for help.

Noah Schlabach stepped from his father’s house and inhaled the smoke that hung heavy in the air. The chilling clang of a dinner bell pierced the silence. At this time of night, it signaled danger and need. The closest neighboring farm on Amish Mountain belonged to Eli Plank. Ten years ago, the crusty old codger had a bad heart and a cranky disposition. Doubting Eli’s condition had improved, Noah climbed behind the wheel of his Ford pickup, flicked on the lights and headed along the dirt road that led to the bridge, which he hoped was still standing. Rain had fallen steadily since he had returned to the area twenty-four hours ago and had swelled the narrow river. There was a safer bridge closer to town, but the detour would delay his response to the bell’s clamant call.

He’d last crossed the river the night he had begged Eli’s daughter, Ruthie, to run away with him. Leaving her ten years ago had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, next to burying his brother, Seth, and his family. Coming back to sell their father’s house was closure to the past and all its pain. If only he could rid himself of the guilt so he could embrace life again. But then, he didn’t deserve happiness. Nor did he expect to find it.

The wind howled, bending the pines and pushing against the truck with a powerful force. He gripped the steering wheel as he neared the rickety bridge. The guard railings bowed in the wind. A board broke loose, fell into the water and floated downstream toward the town of Willkommen.

Had he remained Amish, Noah would have offered a prayer for his own safe passage over the aged structure, but if God hadn’t answered Noah’s prayers for his brother, He wouldn’t answer his prayer tonight. Better to remain silent than to face God’s rejection again.

The moon broke through the clouds and reflected off the churning river below. Glancing higher up the mountain, he spied the cascading waterfall. The early spring rains had been merciless, which added to the surge of water flowing down the mountain.

He eased the truck across the bridge and accelerated on the other side. The Plank farmhouse sat at the upper tip of the valley, not more than fifty yards from the riverbank. Too close to the water, but then Mr. Plank had never made good decisions about the way he managed his farm, or how he parented Ruthie after her mother’s death.

A small boy with blond hair, not more than five or six, stood on the porch, ringing the dinner bell. Noah braked to a stop and lunged from the truck. A fire smoldered in the woodpile. Smoke trailed upward from what appeared to be a contained burn.

Turning, his heart sped up.

An older boy was kneeling over a woman who was lying facedown in the red Georgia clay. Noah recognized the dark hair and frail form.

Ruthie!

“Mamm,” the child whimpered as Noah neared. “Help her,” the boy pleaded. “Help my mamm.”

Noah touched her slender neck, searched for a pulse and let out a relieved breath when he felt a faint but steady beat.

She moaned and tried to turn over. Her neck and spine seemed uninjured, yet her eyes remained closed. Feeling her arms, he checked for breaks, then did the same to her legs and feet before he gently lifted her into his arms.

“Let’s take your mamm inside.”

The older boy hurried to the porch, where his younger brother held on to the bell rope as if his hands were glued in place.

“It’s okay,” Noah assured the shivering younger child. “Come inside and get warm.”

Following the boys into the house, he asked, “Where’s your mother’s bedroom?”

“On the second floor.” The older boy locked the kitchen door behind them, then led the way up the stairs.

Peering around the starkly furnished Amish home, Noah expected to see Eli. “Is your grandfather asleep?” he asked.

“Dawdy died two months ago,” the young one said.

“And your father?”

“He died in the same buggy accident.”

Noah’s gut tightened. “There are just you two boys?”

They nodded.

“And Mamm,” the younger one answered. His fingers latched onto his mother’s arm, which was hanging limp. Tears welled in his eyes.

“She’s going to be okay.” Although Noah wanted to reassure the child, he wasn’t sure of any such thing. Ruthie had been used as a punching bag. Internal injuries could be deceptive and hard to diagnose. She needed a doctor, but knowing the Amish way was to treat first and use medical care as a last option, he would assess her injuries before he talked about taking her to the hospital in Willkommen.

The boys led him into a small bedroom. The covers on the bed had been thrown back. Ruthie’s slippers sat on the floor. Carefully, he removed her muddy robe and laid her on the bed.

“Datt said we deserved it whenever we were hurt,” the little one whispered. “But Mamm did not deserve to be beaten. Ever.”

Had she been beaten before? “Did either of you see the person who hurt your mamm?”

Both boys shook their heads.

Noah touched her cheek. “Ruthie?”

She moaned.

“Talk to her, boys.”

“Mamm, look at me. It’s Andrew.” The youngest one leaned over his mother and kissed her cheek.

Noah’s heart tightened.

The other boy, his face shadowed, touched her hair. “Open your eyes, Mamm. Simon wants to see your blue eyes.”

Andrew started to cry.

Noah put his arm around the young child and drew him close. “Shhh,” he soothed.

The older boy turned to the nightstand. He struck a match and lit the oil lamp.

With the sudden burst of light, Ruthie’s eyes blinked open. She stared at Noah, her brow furrowed with puzzlement.

“Your boys are safe,” he assured her.

“Andrew?” She tried to raise her head.

“Here I am, Mamm.”

“And Simon?” Slowly, she turned to look at her oldest child.

Noah followed her gaze, seeing the boy more clearly in the lamplight. Tall and lean, he had a shock of brown hair about the same shade as Noah’s. Dark eyes, a strong nose and square jaw. One eyebrow arched slightly higher than the other. His lips were full. He offered his mother a weak smile, revealing dimples on each cheek.

Noah’s gut tightened. He raised his hand to his own face. The realization hit him hard as he stared at the boy who looked surprisingly like him.

“Why did you come back, Noah?” Ruthie asked, her tone bitter as she turned to stare at him. “You left once—why did you return to Amish Mountain?”

Before seeing Simon in the light, he would have told her he was here to sell his deceased father’s house and farm. Now he realized something other than his father’s passing had brought him back to the mountain. Was it Divine Providence? Whether God was involved, he would never know, but one thing was certain—Noah had been led back to Amish Mountain to find his son.

TWO

Noah!

Ruthie pushed aside the dream that troubled her slumber and opened her eyes to the light streaming through her bedroom window. Her head pounded with confusion as she struggled to remember everything that had happened last night. Mentally, she flipped through a number of details until she stopped at the fire and the man who had attacked her.

His words made her stomach roil. You don’t belong here. Leave before something happens to you and your children.

Remembering the two notes with similar warnings that had been shoved under her door, she grimaced. Who was the hateful man and why had he beaten her?

She rubbed her hand gingerly over her forehead, feeling the lump, and shivered. Her whole body ached. Ever so slowly, she crawled from bed and shuffled to the window. Peering down, she was overcome with relief when she saw Simon and Andrew in the chicken coop gathering eggs.

Glancing toward the barn, her heart lurched. She grabbed the windowsill to steady her weak knees and stared at Noah Schlabach, carrying feed toward the barn. Evidently, her dream had been real.

Moving as quickly as her groaning body would allow, she washed her face and hands and slipped into her dress. After sweeping her tangled hair into a bun, she covered it with her kapp, wiped her muddied feet clean and donned her shoes. She hurried into the hallway and inhaled the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. Surely her imagination was playing tricks on her. The coffee tin had been empty for two weeks.

She gripped the banister and descended the stairs, her aching muscles and strained back objecting to every step. The smell of fried bacon assailed her. Bacon was a luxury she had not tasted in months.

Entering the kitchen, she stopped short as the back door opened and Noah stepped inside. Tall, muscular, more mature and even more handsome.

She swallowed down the lump that filled her throat and stared at the man she had once loved. “I—I...” she stammered. “I thought seeing you last night had been a dream.”

“How’s your head?” he asked, his voice warm with concern.

Her head was throbbing with frustration, but she refused to let him know how much seeing him unsettled her. “I have a headache. Otherwise, I’m fine.”

In spite of her tight muscles, she straightened her spine and narrowed her gaze. “Did I not ask you last night why you came back?”

His mouth twitched, revealing dimples that used to play with her heart. “You did ask me that question.”

“I remember dreaming I saw you, then I woke to find you hauling feed to my barn.” She rubbed her forehead. “My mind is a bit fuzzy this morning, and I cannot recall your answer. Why did you return to Amish Mountain?”

“Someone wants to buy my father’s property. I’m here to sign the papers. Although after what happened last night, I’m not sure why anyone would want to live on the mountain.”

“Some of us do not have the luxury of moving,” she said with a huff.

“Sorry. As you probably remember, I was never known for my diplomacy.” He stepped toward the stove, poured two cups of coffee and handed one to her. “Who beat you up, Ruthie?”

“It was not a social visit,” she said, still irritated by his earlier comment. “We did not exchange names.”

“The fire was started with gasoline. If not for the rain...” He shrugged. Both of them knew what could have happened.

Had Gott intervened? If so, maybe He cared about her and her boys, after all.

Ruthie raised the cup with shaky hands, then sipped the coffee, appreciating the rich brew she had missed, and stared at her near-empty pantry. “Where did you find coffee beans?”

“At my dad’s place.”

“Along with bacon?” She glanced at the cast-iron skillet warming on the back of the stove.

He lifted his eyebrows, a ploy Simon used when he wanted to make a point. “You used to like bacon.”

“That was ten years ago, Noah. A lot has changed since then.”

“I remember you were the prettiest girl in the entire area.”

She sealed her ears to his sweet talk. She had been fooled once but would not be fooled again.

“I wanted you to go with me that night, Ruthie.”

“You were young, Noah, and tired of being Amish.” She grimaced inwardly. Because of Noah, she had almost walked away from her faith. How different life would have been if she had left with him.

The sounds of the boys’ voices filtered into the kitchen.

“You’ve raised two fine sons.” The word sons hung in the air. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

The hurt and rejection she had felt so long ago bubbled up anew. She squared her shoulders defiantly. “I did tell you as soon as I realized what was happening to my body. I wrote you immediately and then wrote again and again. Why did you never answer my letters?”

“What?”

“You heard me, Noah. I did not know your address so I took letters to your father and asked him to mail them to you. I expected a reply, even if you did not want to acknowledge our son.”

His eyes widened. “I never got any letters.”

“Perhaps you forgot.”

“Having a son is not something a man would forget.”

She glanced away, unwilling to argue. Noah had made his decision all those years ago. She could not change what had happened then, but she would protect her son now. Simon had lost one father. He did not need to know he had a biological father, as well. Especially one that would stay a few days and then move on with his life. A life without his newfound son.

Needing to hide her upset, she went to the cabinet and pulled out four plates, then set the table and filled glasses with water for the boys.

“I brought milk.” He pointed to the icebox. “And packed the box with more ice.”

“Did you check my pantry last night as well as my icehouse before you headed home?”

“I spent the night on your porch to ensure the attacker did not return. Once the sun came up, I felt you and the boys would be safe while I made a quick trip home for a few supplies.”

Although touched by his thoughtfulness, she needed to remain strong. “Thank you, Noah, but I did not ask for your help.”

“I’m well aware of that, Ruthie. You always were a bit stubborn as well as independent.”

His words stung. “Stubborn because I did not run away from my responsibility? My father needed me.”

“Didn’t your husband come first?”

She bristled. “What do you mean?”

“I read about your wedding in The Budget newspaper. Ben Eicher wasn’t from around here. Why did you both stay on the mountain instead of returning to his home?”

A good question, and one she should have asked before they married. Although a woman in her fourth month of pregnancy needed a father for her unborn child and could not be particular.

Marrying Ben had been a mistake, she had learned quickly, but by then she had been baptized and had committed fully to living the Amish way. No matter how Ben treated her, Amish women did not leave their husbands. Even husbands caught in addiction.

“Ben knew my father needed help,” she said in defense of a husband who did not deserve to be defended. At first she had not known he was a gambler, although it did not take long for her to realize the little money they had disappeared whenever Ben went to town. Still, she did not want Noah to know the truth about her husband and their dysfunctional marriage.

“Your father had a brother,” Noah stated.

“Yah.” She nodded. “My uncle Henry owns a bit of land south of here, but he left the area years ago.”

“Perhaps he didn’t think your family farm was worth saving, Ruthie,” he continued, no doubt unaware of her upset.

“Is that what you told your father when you and Seth ran away in the middle of the night?”

Noah’s face tightened.

The pain of learning he had left without her washed over Ruthie again. She had been naive to think Noah would change his plans for her. All she had wanted was a few days until she mustered the courage to tell her father she was leaving. Why had Noah not understood her need to wait?

“You have not mentioned your brother.” Regretting her sharp tongue, Ruthie steered the conversation away from the past. “Did he return to the mountain, too?”

“Seth died, Ruthie. It’s been almost six months.”

The two brothers had been inseparable. Ruthie’s heart broke for Noah. She lowered her gaze. “Forgive me. I did not know.”

The kitchen door opened, and the boys bounded inside. “We found eggs.” Andrew held up his basket. “Lots of them.”

Noah tousled Andrew’s hair and smiled at Simon. “Enjoy breakfast, boys.” He stepped toward the open door. “I’ve got a couple of jobs to do outside.”

“But you need to eat.” Though relieved that Noah was leaving, she also wanted him to stay.

“I’m not hungry.” Cool air swirled into the kitchen. “After breakfast, boys, come outside and we’ll finish the chores.”

“Go home, Noah,” Ruthie suggested. “Get some sleep. We can manage without you.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re managing, Ruthie, that’s true. But I’m here for a few days. Let me help.”

“Then you will leave again?”

“At least this time, I’ll know who I’m leaving behind.”

“What did he mean?” Andrew asked after Noah had closed the door behind him.

She ignored her son’s question. “Wash your hands, boys, and put the bread on the table. We will have bacon along with our eggs.”

Simon neared the window and peered outside. “He went into Datt’s workshop.”

A warning tugged at Ruthie’s heart. “I thought you locked the door.”

Simon shrugged. “Maybe I forgot. We never used to lock it.”

But things had changed.

Before she could answer, Simon added, “That man last night could have been here before.”

She stepped closer. “Why do you say that?”

“I saw a man near the river last week.”

A nervous thread tangled along her spine. “You did not tell me.”

“He asked where the fish were biting. I told him downstream a bit. Funny, though—he did not have a fishing pole.”

“What did he look like?”

Simon shrugged. “He stood in the shadow of a tree and held his hand up so I could not see his face.”

“Did he leave right away?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“After he asked who was buried on the hill.”

Ruthie’s heart thumped a warning. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him about Datt and Dawdy.”

“About the accident?”

He nodded.

She would not fault her son, but Simon had revealed that she and the boys lived alone. Was the man who seemed interested in fishing the same man who had attacked her last night?

The sound of someone chopping wood drew her to the window. Simon and Andrew followed. As the three of them peered outside, Noah raised an ax over his head and then, with a powerful downward movement, split a log in two.

Andrew stood on tiptoe, his eyes wide. “Noah brought Simon and me moon pies this morning before you were awake, Mamm.”

Moon pies had been Noah’s favorite as a kid, although his datt rarely allowed such a frivolous waste of money. In spite of being Amish, Reuben Schlabach preferred to spend his hard-earned cash on liquid libations. Her own father called Noah’s dad a drunk. Ruthie had considered him an unhappy man who regretted the life he had made for himself.

“Even after eating moon pies, I know you are hungry.” She shooed the boys toward the sink. “Wash your hands.”

Simon reached for the bar of soap. “Did I meet Noah when I was a child?”

A child? She almost laughed. Nine years old, and Simon was trying to be a man. “Noah left the area ten years ago. I do not recall him returning to the mountain until now.”

Both boys lathered their hands with soap and rinsed them with the well water.

Simon reached for the towel. “Noah looks like someone I know, but I cannot remember who.”

Ruthie’s stomach tightened. The boys enjoyed looking at their reflections in the clothing-store mirror the few times they had gone shopping in town. Simon might not realize the truth yet, but as much as he resembled Noah, he would learn who his real datt was before long.

Noah was leaving, but would he leave soon enough?

As frustrated as he felt, Noah could have chopped down an entire forest. Ruthie needed wood so she could cook and keep her house warm. She needed other things, too. Her pantry was almost bare. He had checked the icehouse and found only a few pounds of frozen meat.

Thankfully, he had purchased hamburger and steaks when he was in town, so he was able to leave her enough beef in the icehouse for a few meals. He would return to town for more supplies as soon as possible.

In spite of the cool morning, he worked up a sweat before putting down the ax when the boys hurried outside. Andrew wore a milk mustache and had to run back inside for his hat.

“My brother wants to split wood, Mr. Noah. Mamm says he is too young to use an ax.”

“She doesn’t want him to get hurt. He’ll be old enough soon.” Noah’s heart warmed as he glanced at his son, slender and gangly with big feet and hands. Given time, Simon might grow taller than Noah.

“Have you split wood before, Simon?”

The boy nodded. “Sometimes I help Mamm. The ax gives her blisters that hurt her hands, but she never complains.”

Forever stoic, Ruthie had also never complained about her infirmed father or her need to care for him.

Noah handed Simon the ax. “You chop while I stack. We’ll work together.”

The boy’s face brightened. “Yah, gut.”

“Just remember to spread your feet apart as wide as your shoulders and keep your eyes on the wood you plan to split.”

Simon gripped the ax, adjusted his stance and glanced at Noah for approval.

“Move your feet out a bit,” he advised.

The boy responded.

He raised the ax and brought it down into the middle of the log, splitting the wood on the first swing.

“Good job.”

Simon puffed out his chest with the praise.

Before he could grab a second piece of wood, the kitchen door opened and Ruthie stepped onto the porch.

“Simon,” she called.

The boy looked up.

“Stack the wood. Then you and Andrew fill the mare’s trough with feed. Make sure she has water.”

With a sigh, he handed the ax to Noah.

As the boy started to gather the wood, Noah stepped toward the porch where Ruthie stood. “He did a good job.”

“You should have asked me first, Noah.”

“I chopped wood when I was Simon’s age.”

“Yah, you did a lot of things, but you are not my son.”

Simon was his son, too, but he didn’t deserve the title of Dad. Not now. Not ever. Not when he had turned his back on the boy. Although, in his own defense, he hadn’t even known he had a son.

Ruthie must have seen the confusion in his gaze because she came down the steps and put her hand on his arm. “You do not need to fill a role you have never known.”

“A boy needs a father.”

“Simon will grow into a strong man even though Ben is gone.”

Her words cut him like a knife.

“Come inside,” she said. “I kept a plate of food warm.”

He shook his head and pointed to a distant pasture. “Some of those fence posts look ready to topple. The boys can help me. You don’t want to lose the few head of cattle you have.”

“Ben planned to sell them at market, but he died, and I...”

She glanced at the grave site, her face tight with emotion. Noah saw the grief she still carried.

“Simon mentioned your father died, too.”

Ruthie nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“Danki, Noah.”

He turned his gaze back to the pasture. “You could slaughter one of your steers for meat,” he suggested, hoping to turn the topic away from the deaths of her father and her husband. “Your ice is low. We might be able to have some delivered from town.”

She shook her head. “Not this month.”

Was money the issue?

He noted the way she steeled her jaw with determination, trying to hold on to her pride. Ruthie was doing her best to provide for her boys.

He glanced at the peeling paint on the house and outbuildings, and the dilapidated barn. No matter how hard she tried, it wasn’t enough.

“I’ve decided to go to town tomorrow. Why don’t you and the boys join me? You could tell the sheriff about your visitor last night and any details you might have remembered.”

“Everything happened so quickly.” She wrapped her arms around her slender waist.

“Is there something the man might want that is yours? Or could he be an acquaintance of your husband?”

“An Englisch lady’s stocking covered his head so I could not see his face. Simon told me about a man at the riverbank last week who asked where to fish.”

“A sportsman wanting a tip on where to toss his line?”

“Maybe, except he did not have a fishing pole, and he wanted to know who was buried on the hill.”

Noah turned toward the graves. “Your husband is buried there?”

She nodded. “Along with my mother and father.”

“You and the boys shouldn’t be left alone, Ruthie. I’ll bed down in the barn tonight.”

“As ramshackle as it is, the barn might collapse on top of you.”

He smiled. “Then I’ll sleep on your porch again.”

“You have already done enough, Noah. Besides, I would worry about you if you stayed outside in the cold. Go home and rest. With the doors locked, the boys and I will be safe in the house.”

“I heard the dinner bell last night. Ring it if you need me.”

“Do not worry about us. We will be fine.”

But he was worried. A man had attacked Ruthie once. Noah had to ensure he did not hurt her a second time.

THREE

Noah kept thinking about Ruthie and her two sons when he returned home later that evening. After eating dinner, he brewed coffee and took a cup onto the porch, listening to the hoot of a night owl and the scamper of squirrels burrowing through the underbrush.

He also heard the flow of the river. Rain had fallen intermittently all afternoon and more was expected over the next few days. He and the boys had shored up the pasture fence in between the hardest downpours. Other repairs needed to be tackled in the morning.

Ruthie might think she could handle the farm, but it was too much for her. The boys were good workers and helped as best they could, but they couldn’t fill the gap left by Ben Eicher’s passing. Although from the level of disrepair Noah had noticed, Ruthie’s husband had failed to keep up the farm. Years of neglect under her father’s hand had been, no doubt, compounded by a lackadaisical husband.

Noah finished the coffee and returned the mug to the kitchen, then grabbed his keys, climbed into his truck and headed toward the bridge. Thankfully, the water level had lowered a bit with the ease in the rainfall. He checked the bridge’s underpinnings, and decided to brace the support beams as best he could tomorrow.

Leaving his truck on the far bank, he walked across the bridge to get a better view of the Plank farm, now shadowed in darkness. An oil lamp glowed in a downstairs window of the farmhouse, inviting him forward. He hurried to the porch and tapped on the door.

“Ruthie, it’s Noah.”

She opened the door. “Is everything all right?”

Her hair hung loose around her shoulders. A small triangular scarf covered her head and was tied under her chin, in lieu of her prayer kapp.

“I decided to check your property but didn’t want to scare you. Are the boys asleep?”

She nodded. “They were exhausted after working with you today.”

“I appreciated their help.”

“And the questions?” Her eyes almost twinkled in the lamplight. “The boys are much too inquisitive.”

His heart warmed as he thought of their nonstop chatter this afternoon. “Curious minds are quick to learn. They both take after their mother in that regard.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Are you saying I was talkative in my youth?”

He laughed. “I’m referring to intelligence, Ruthie. You’re a smart woman.”

“A smart woman should be able to manage this farm better than I am currently doing.”

“Your husband and father haven’t been gone long.” He looked expectantly at her.

“Two months.” She let out a shallow sigh. “In some ways it seems like only yesterday, yet when I look around the farm, I feel it has been neglected for years.”

“Any sign of the guy from last night?” he asked.

“Everything has been quiet.”

“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder at the rocky terrain. “I’ll search around the outbuildings and ensure nothing is amiss in the barn.”

She motioned toward the living area. “If you would like to come inside for a cup of coffee afterward—”

He held up his hand. “I’ll take a rain check.”

“Then good night, and thank you.”

Standing on the porch as she closed the door, Noah felt a weight settle on his shoulders. Everything within him begged to accept her offer. He wanted to learn who Ruthie Eicher was. He had known Ruthie Plank, but ten years was a long time. He had changed. No doubt, she had, as well.

With a deep sigh, he left the porch and searched the barn. The wood shop and other outbuildings were locked. He glanced over the pastures and the hillside, then walked back across the bridge and climbed into his pickup. For a long moment, he stared at Ruthie’s house.

His father, in one of his drunken stupors, had mocked Noah, calling him a protector who wanted to keep everyone safe. The irony cut Noah to the quick after what had happened to Seth, his wife, Jeanine, and their adorable daughter, Mary.

Seth had never been happier than when he and Noah had worked on the dam near Chattanooga. After carefully saving enough money, Seth and Jeanine had placed a down payment on their starter home and had invited Noah to dinner that first night in the new house to share in their joy. The pride Noah had felt in his little brother had made his heart nearly burst.

Two weeks later, the dam gave way, and a wall of water washed over the housing area as the family slept.

Noah had worked on the dam. He had gotten Seth a job there and had told him about the new houses being built and the low-interest loans for people employed by the construction company.

If Noah hadn’t been so helpful, Seth and his family would still be alive.

He started the engine and turned the truck around. Noah had come home to sell his father’s property. The real-estate agent had a buyer. Tomorrow in town, he would see if the papers had been drawn up. Noah needed to move on with his life. There was nothing except memories on Amish Mountain.

Then he thought of Ruthie and Simon and little Andrew. His heart softened, yet he needed to be realistic. Although he had left the Amish faith before baptism, Noah had lived life as an Englischer for the past ten years. Amish and Englisch didn’t mix, at least not when romantic relationships were concerned. There could be no going back to what they’d had so long ago.

Plus, he didn’t deserve happiness or love or a family, and had to make certain he didn’t get involved. Bottom line—the sooner he left the mountain, the better.

Ruthie extinguished the oil lamp and moved to the window. In the moonlight, she watched Noah walk over the bridge, climb into his truck and sit there for a long moment. Was he thinking of her or their son?

She had said too much about their circumstances. She did not want Noah to know they were hanging on by a thread. A very thin thread. Surely he would wonder about the Amish community and why they were not reaching out to the widow Eicher.

Truth be told, she had rejected their help. The shame of Ben’s gambling and subsequent shunning pained her to the core, even after all this time, and the memory of his outrage during Sunday service haunted her still. Ben had called the bishop and elders hypocrites and stormed out. Ruthie had gathered the boys and followed him, holding her head high. All the while, her face had burned with shame.

Her father had always said a wife’s place was beside her husband. If Ben was shunned, then she felt shunned, as well. Even after his death, she had not been able to embrace the community or accept their outreach.

After his shunning, Ben had gone to town once a month to gamble, collect the mail at the post office and buy supplies with whatever money was left after his poker games. She and the boys had remained at home to handle the chores. All too often, she had prayed her husband would not return. Gott forgive her for such thoughts.

Ben always returned in a foul mood, as if he had been forced home to a wife he did not love and an elder son he knew was not his own. At times, she wondered why he had married her. Was it for her father’s farm or had he believed love could grow between them? After Simon’s birth, Ben claimed the baby was the problem, but she knew the problem was Ben, who usually thought only of himself.

Ruthie turned from the window, carried her cup to the sink, washed it and placed it in the cupboard, her thoughts moving back to Noah and the way he had brought joy to her life when they were young. They had played together as children, and with time that friendship had grown into something more. Ruthie had been too free with her love, which she regretted, yet she never regretted the wonderful child who had come from their youthful tryst.

Footsteps sounded on the porch. Her heart fluttered. Noah had come back to see her.

Not waiting for his knock, she threw open the door.

“Oh, Noah, I am glad—”

Her heart lurched. The man with the stocking over his head was not Noah. Before she could slam the door, he pushed his way into the house. She gasped.

“What are you waiting for?” He leaned into her face. “Time is running out.”

She squared her shoulders and steadied her voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Move off the mountain. No one wants you here.”

“That is not true.”

His eyes widened. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I am calling you a fool to think you can frighten me.”

“I’ll make life miserable for you and your children.”

He raised his hand as if to strike her. She grabbed his arm, and his shirtsleeve raised, revealing tattoos that covered his skin.

His face contorted, and he pushed her away with such force that she tumbled to the floor, landing on her hip. Pain ricocheted up her spine.

She struggled to her feet, knowing she had to be strong to protect her boys.

“Get out of here.” She pointed to the door. “Leave me alone.”

“I told you what will happen if you don’t get off Amish Mountain.”

Seething with anger, he stepped closer. “Don’t make a tragic mistake if you want your boys to live.”

He shoved her hard against a table and ran outside.

Ruthie stumbled and fell to her knees, overcome with a mix of confusion and fear.

Once again, footsteps sounded on the porch.

Her heart pounded. He was coming back.

She grabbed the edge of the table and tried to stand. She had to keep him from harming Simon and Andrew.

His footfalls drew closer.

She screamed.

Arms surrounded her. “Ruthie!”

Gasping, she collapsed into Noah’s arms.

“He—he came back. He said he would...kill my boys. Help me, Noah. Help me save my boys.”

FOUR

Noah held Ruthie close until she calmed. Having her in his arms tugged on his heart. So many memories flooded over him and reminded him how dearly he had loved Ruthie once upon a time. Now someone was doing her harm.

“Why is this man coming after you?” he asked once she moved out of his embrace.

She shook her head and cast her eyes down. “It is difficult to discuss.”

“You mentioned coffee earlier,” he suggested, hoping to ease her tension. “A cup would be good for both of us.”

“Yah, you are right. I brewed a pot early and kept it on the stove so it will still be hot.” She led the way into the kitchen and poured the coffee. After opening a cabinet drawer, she lifted out a large manila envelope, carried it to the table along with the filled cups and sat across from Noah.

“I do not want you to think badly about my husband, but it is necessary to tell you some things so you understand what is happening.” She stared at the envelope and then glanced up at Noah.

“Perhaps you have already heard talk in town?” she asked.

“I didn’t talk to anyone about you, Ruthie. I thought your father was still alive and that you and your husband lived elsewhere.”

“If you had asked, you would have heard that my husband liked to gamble.”

Noah saw the pain on her face.

“What started as an occasional problem grew worse with time,” she admitted.

Noah took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“The hardest part was his disregard for the boys, especially Simon. Not that Ben was a better father to Andrew.”

“He knew you were pregnant when you married?”

She nodded and pulled back her hand. “I was truthful. He said it did not matter that I was in the family way, but it did matter. Evidently more than either of us realized.”

Her words cut into Noah. The thought of Simon being raised by a man who didn’t love him was almost too much to bear. Noah carried the guilt for the deaths of his brother’s family. To learn that he was also responsible for a child who had been slighted by his stepfather weighed him down even more.

“What about the church district?” he asked. “Did the bishop not offer counsel?”

“Ben did not accept criticism or advice, even from the bishop. When Andrew was a baby, my husband caused a disruption during Sunday services while the bishop was speaking. Ben called him a hypocrite and said all the elders were ungodly men who preached lies.”

“Oh, Ruthie, how that must have hurt you.”

She wrung her hands. “Ben said he wanted nothing more to do with the church. Because of his gambling and his disregard for the bishop’s counsel, he was removed from the faith, just as he wanted.”

“You mean Bann and Meidung?”

“Yah. He was excommunicated and shunned.”

“But you weren’t. Surely the bishop would not hold what your husband did against you.”

“I was Ben’s wife. If he was cut off from the community, I was, too.”

“You could have asked for help.”

She glanced at him, her eyes revealing the shame she must have felt for all these years.

“As you know, Noah, we live on the mountain, far from town. What do the Englisch say? Out of sight, out of mind.”

He nodded. The townspeople had not made an effort to help Ruthie because of her husband.

“Although to be honest, a few people checked on me after the incident in church. Following Ben’s death, they reached out to me again, but I was still too shamed by my husband’s actions as well as his shunning and refused their help.”

“How does all this have bearing on what’s happening now?” he asked.

She glanced again at the envelope. “Ben would go to town once a month to get the mail and to gamble.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper. “The last time he went to town, my father went with him. My datt’s health was bad. He had grown so frail. I asked Ben to take him to the medical clinic for an exam, which I am certain interfered with Ben’s gambling. On the way home, he raced through an intersection and never saw the approaching car that had the right of way.”

“They both died in the collision.”

Ruthie nodded. “Comforting the boys was hard. They did not understand how Gott could take both their father and their grandfather. Some people said it was Gott’s will, but that is difficult for children to comprehend.”

She paused for a moment and then added, “It was difficult for me to accept, as well.”

“You’ve been through so much, Ruthie.”

“It is life, yah? We are given both the good and the bad. How we act in those difficult situations can either build strength or tear us down. I am determined to remain strong.”

“You have always been strong and faithful to the Lord. You’re showing the boys how a gut person lives, and they learn well from your example.”

“I fear they are now learning how a hateful man can ruin a family’s peace and well-being.” She withdrew a piece of paper from the envelope, unfolded it and placed it on the table.

Pointing to the paper, she said, “This is what I found under my door two weeks ago. It states that I need to leave the farm.”

Noah read what appeared to be a hastily scribbled note written in green ink. “Do you recognize the handwriting or the color of the ink?”

She shook her head. “Several days ago another note was slipped under my door.”

Withdrawing the second slip of paper from the envelope, she sighed. “This one is also written in green ink and says I would be sorry if I did not leave within forty-eight hours.”

Noah looked at the date on the second letter. “And the fire occurred last night as the deadline lapsed?”

She nodded. “I did not realize he would be so hateful. I fear evil has taken over his heart.”

Noah tried to think why this property would be so important.

Ruthie folded the papers and returned them to the envelope. “The man talks about hurting my children. That is what frightens me.”

“We need to tell the sheriff.”

“And what will he do? Willkommen is far from the mountain. My children and I live here alone. I have no phone to call for help.”

“Cell reception is almost impossible on the mountain, Ruthie. I’ve had trouble trying to make calls since I returned home, but if you need to contact anyone, you can try my phone.”

“I cannot rely on you, Noah. You are here now, but you will leave as soon as your father’s land is sold. I do not blame you. As you said, why would anyone want to live on Amish Mountain? It is true, but it is the only thing I have to call my own, other than my wonderful sons. I want to pass this farm on to them. Without the land, how would I grow food or raise chickens and have eggs? There is so much work to do with a farm, but I want to raise my children on this mountain.”

As much as Noah admired Ruthie’s determination, he knew she would be an easy target for the man who had come after her. Noah needed to talk her out of staying, but since he hadn’t been able to convince Ruthie to leave years ago, he doubted he could convince her to leave now.

Perhaps there had been more to her staying back then than just caring for her father. The Amish felt a kinship with the land. It provided their livelihood, their food, their ability to sustain life.

In his youth, Noah hadn’t been aware of Ruthie’s love of the land. Now that he had nothing of his own and no one to hold on to, he could understand her desire to remain on the farm that had belonged to her family for generations.

He thought of his own guilt in his brother’s tragic death. Noah had no right to find comfort in his childhood home and surrounding property. He would sell it all and continue to wander from job to job, even if a portion of his heart remained on the mountain, as it had so long ago.

Ruthie could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she envisioned the man with the distorted face and the tattooed arm. Discouraged and upset, she rose from bed and walked to the window. A light from Noah’s house glowed in the darkness. Perhaps he, too, was trying to make sense of her tangled life.

She had not wanted to tell Noah about her husband. The mistake of marrying Ben had been her own to make. She did not need pity, or for Noah to feel responsible for the struggles she had endured. Life had to be accepted, no matter how difficult. Ben often told her if she was a better wife, he would have been a better husband. Not that she understood his logic. Whenever he spoke such nonsense, she would busy herself with cooking or cleaning and steel her heart to his criticism. Her father had never offered praise and his words had been caustic at times, but Ben’s belligerence was different, and no matter how hard she tried to shrug off his comments, they troubled her spirit and sapped the joy from her life.

What hurt her even more is that she had tried to be a dutiful wife, but Ben’s verbal attacks on her worth as a person, as well as a wife, took a toll until her heart had hardened.

If she had her boys, she had everything she needed. Keeping the farm was for their future, so she could provide something other than the memory of their childhood with a father who did not know how to love.

She stared again at the light in the distance. Once upon a time, she had been in love. She loved her children, but she would never be able to love a man again. No matter how much she remembered the past and what Noah had meant to her then.

Ten years was a lifetime. She had changed, not necessarily for the better. She accepted her life as it was and did not need to run from the pain. Joy had been part of her distant past, before Noah left the mountain, but it would not be part of her future.

FIVE

Noah had breakfast ready by the time Ruthie came downstairs the next morning. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her when she stepped into the kitchen.

“Looks like you could use a little caffeine.”

“I need more than caffeine.” She accepted the cup with a weak smile and took a long sip.

“You’ll find the spare key on the counter,” he said. “Thanks for letting me keep it overnight.”

“I gave it to you in case there was an emergency. I did not expect you to cook breakfast for us.”

“It’s the least I could do. Plus, I’m worried about you. It might be wise to have a doc check you over, Ruthie. I told you that I plan to go to town today to get some supplies to work on your barn. Come with me.”

“No. I am stiff and sore, but nothing is broken and I will be good as new in a few days.”

He could see the dark lines under her eyes and the way she held her side. Ruthie was tough. Always had been.

“And you do not need to fix my barn,” she insisted.

“I’ve got the time and the wherewithal. Plus it gives me a chance to spend time with Simon and Andrew.”

“I am sure you have other things to do.”

“Not until my father’s house is sold. I’ll check with the real-estate agent today. I called his office when I first arrived in town. His receptionist said it would take a week to get everything ready. I might hurry them along if I stop in today.”

“You would not want to stay on the mountain longer than necessary.”

He heard the subtle hint of sarcasm in her voice and raised his brow.

She ignored his gaze and took another sip of coffee, then placed the cup on the table. “The boys will be downstairs soon. Thank you for preparing breakfast.”

“Breakfast is easy. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the man from hurting you last night.”

The boys scurried downstairs and bounded into the kitchen. Andrew’s eyes widened. “What smells so gut?”

“Noah has fixed us breakfast.” Ruthie’s smile was warm. “Come sit at the table, and I will pour your milk.”

“But the chores,” Simon insisted.

“I’ve cared for the animals,” Noah assured him. “We can work together on the other jobs after we eat. It won’t take us long.” He pointed to the table. “Sit next to your brother. We’ll eat while the food is warm.”

Simon slipped into his chair. “My stomach is ready to eat.”

“Mine, too,” Andrew said, holding out his glass for his mother to fill.

“Noah has brought us many good things to eat, as well as milk to drink. What do you boys say?”

“Danki, Noah,” they chimed in unison.

“It is gut to enjoy a meal with my neighbors.” He placed a large platter of sausages and scrambled eggs in the center of the table. A smaller plate was piled high with buttered toast.

“Bacon yesterday and sausage today. It is like Christmas.” Andrew took a long chug from his glass, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Use your napkin,” Ruthie instructed. “And we will wait for Noah to join us before we give thanks.”

Noah hadn’t asked the Lord to bless his food since his mother had died. His father had rarely sat at the table to eat following her passing, and Noah and Seth had quickly forsaken many of the Amish ways, including prayer before meals.

Simon and Andrew waited expectantly for him to sit. Sliding into the seat opposite Ruthie, he smiled at the boys. “Shall we bow our heads in prayer?”

They dutifully followed his suggestion, their eyes closed and faces serene. His heart warmed at their innocence. He turned his gaze to Ruthie. She stared at him, one eyebrow arched ever so slightly, as if questioning what he was doing coming back into her life.

Noah glanced down, mentally trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. Unable to focus on prayer, he pulled in a breath and quieted his mind. He needed to ensure his heart didn’t get carried away with thoughts of Ruthie.

Bless her, he silently intoned. And her children.

He raised his eyes to find the boys staring at him and winked at Simon. “Shall we eat?”

Handing the large platter to Ruthie, he said, “Serve the boys and yourself first.”

She arranged the food on the three plates and then offered it once again to Noah. “Breakfast looks delicious.”

“At times it’s nice to have someone else do the cooking.” He glanced at the boys. “Simon and Andrew, you need to learn to cook so you can fix breakfast for your mamm.”

“We do the outside chores,” Andrew said, reaching for his fork.

“And you’re good workers. I could tell that yesterday.”

Simon spread jam on a slice of toast. “Your eye, Mamm. It looks worse today.”

She glanced at Noah. “A bruise comes a day or two after the injury. Do not worry about your mamm.”

“I do not want to see you hurt.”

She patted his hand. “You are a gut son.”

Noah’s stomach tightened. A gut son who needed a man’s guidance. Andrew needed that, as well.

Ruthie didn’t want the boys to know the stranger had returned last night. Noah had to make certain the man didn’t have another opportunity to hurt her again. What type of an animal would attack a defenseless woman? His stomach soured as he thought of what could have happened.

The boys were enjoying the food with enthusiasm. Again he thought of the pain the attack could have caused to both Simon and Andrew.

Much as he wanted to go to town today, he wouldn’t leave Ruthie and the boys alone. Not when the vile man was on the loose. If only Ruthie and the boys would go to town with him.

“Noah plans to go to town today,” Ruthie said as if reading his thoughts. “Would you boys like to join him?”

“Oh, yah,” both boys enthused.

“It has been so long since we have gone anywhere,” Simon said, serious as always and sounding much older than his years.

“Today will be an adventure, yah?” Ruthie smiled.

“What about the chores?” Simon asked.

“We’ll do them before we leave,” Noah assured him.

Ruthie nodded. “Finish your food and the three of you can head outside, while I tidy the kitchen. Many hands make light work.”

“This day could not be better.” Andrew downed the rest of his milk and finished the last of the eggs on his plate. “A gut breakfast and a trip to town make me very happy.”

“What if the man returns while we are gone?” Simon asked, his brow wrinkled with worry.

“We will lock the doors to the house and will not think about him anymore today.”

“I think of him when I see the bruise on your face.”

“Then I must heal quickly so looking at your mamm does not upset you.”

“That is not what I mean.”

She nodded. “I understand, Simon. None of us want to see the man again, but we cannot live life in fear. We have to trust Gott to keep us safe.”

“He did not keep you safe night before last.”

“No, but the fire in the woodpile did not spread and nothing of significance burned. Gott protected us in that way, even if he allowed the man to hurt me.”

“Bad things sometimes happen,” Noah said, hoping to deflect the boy’s upset. “But as your mother said, it could have been so much worse.”

Simon squared his shoulders. “I will not let him hurt her again.”

Noah admired Simon’s determination and desire to protect his mother. For all his good intentions, Simon wouldn’t be a match for an adult who weighed more and was, no doubt, adept at bullying people, especially defenseless women and children.

“You’ll let me know, Simon, if you see anything suspicious, yah? We’ll work together as a team to keep your mother safe.”

“Can I be on your team?” Andrew asked.

“Of course. We three men will protect your mother.” He nodded to Ruthie. “Now let’s take the dishes to the sink, then we’ll get our chores done and be ready for our trip to town.”

“Are we taking the buggy?” Simon asked.

“I am sure our mare, Buttercup, would enjoy the trip,” Ruthie said. “We will go by buggy.”

The boys cleared the table and then hurried outside.

“I hate leaving you to wash the dishes,” Noah said.

“They will not take long. Do you want me to pack a lunch?”

“If the boys like pizza, we can eat in town.”

“You are spoiling them, Noah. What will I do with them when you are gone?”

Although her tone was light, her gaze was serious.

“We won’t think about that now. Today is for enjoyment, yah?”

“Of course, Noah. Today will be a nice change, but we will remember that your time here will be short-lived. Soon you will leave, and we will go back to life as it was.”

Noah’s life would never be the same. From now on when he thought of Ruthie, he would also think of the son he only recently learned he had and the boy’s brother. Both Amish lads needed an Amish father, not an Englischer who had left the faith.

Ruthie tried to calm her excitement. Going to town had been a rarity when Ben was alive. Since his death, she had too much work to do on the farm to think about leaving for even a few hours.

The boys shared her enthusiasm. Both of them scrambled into the buggy, talking about what they would see and do in Willkommen.

Noah seemed as pleased as the boys, and said, “It will be a fun day,” as he flicked the reins and guided the mare onto the mountain road.

The weather was perfect. Sunny and bright, which matched Ruthie’s mood. She had worn her black bonnet and pulled it around her face in hopes of hiding the bruise around her eye. Her ribs ached but not bad enough to be broken, and that was something else for which to be grateful.

“I checked the barn again this morning to determine what’s needed to shore it up,” Noah told her.

“Did you see the wood piled behind Ben’s woodshop?”

He nodded. “I did. From the looks of the lumber, your husband was preparing to do the job himself. I’ll just need a few more items before I start work.”

“We can help you,” Simon said from the rear.

“I’m counting on that.”

Ruthie was grateful for the way Noah included her sons in the project. Ben had preferred tackling a job alone rather than guiding young hands through a new task. He had always been less than patient with their sons and with her.

“Age has given you the gift of patience,” she said to Noah. Then she thought of his impatience in leaving Amish Mountain so many years ago. If only he had waited for her.

She turned to glance at the lush mountain scenery, not wanting him to see the confusion that she knew was written on her face. Confusion and pain, even after all these years, because he had left without her.

“I was impetuous in my youth, Ruthie, and for that I’m sorry.”

Did he even realize how deeply he had hurt her? She could not think of it again lest the pain overtake her.

“Virtue does not come easily,” she mused, hoping to deflect her focus onto something else. “My mother said it takes a lifetime. Unfortunately, she did not have long enough.”

“You were always a loving daughter.”

The boys chatted in the rear. Ruthie was thankful they had not heard what she and Noah had said. She never should have opened up the wound from her past. Noah would be leaving soon. She did not want to be left with a broken heart again.

Bracing her shoulders, she steeled her resolve. Noah was Englisch, she reminded herself, as if that wedge between them was not evident. He had rejected his faith at the same time he had rejected her. There could be no going back to what had been so long ago.

SIX

Noah recognized Ruthie’s upset in the way she braced her shoulders and held her neck at an angle. She turned away from him, just as she’d done the night he wanted her to leave with him. She had used her father as an excuse, and the pain of rejection he felt had been so intense and immediate that Noah had fled the mountain, leaving behind that which he loved most.

In hindsight, his pride and concern for his own well-being had taken precedence over Ruthie’s need to care for her father. He had lived with that regret for the last ten years.

With the boys sitting in the buggy, Noah knew this wasn’t the time to go into their past. Although he doubted there would ever be a good time. Ruthie had found a husband, a man she loved in spite of his many flaws, and he’d been taken from her and the boys. Noah would be a hypocrite to wade into the midst of her mourning and pretend he could offer her something more. After losing his brother and his brother’s sweet wife and adorable daughter, Noah didn’t deserve a second chance when Seth had no chance at all.

He flicked the reins, feeling the frustration at his own failings well up in him again. Life wasn’t fair. His father used to say that often in the context that others had more land or money or happiness. His dad had tried to find all that he was looking for in a bottle. Noah had chosen to make his own happiness through hard work, but neither of them had succeeded.

“How long until we get to town?” Andrew asked from the rear.

Ruthie turned and smiled. “Are you impatient, my son?”

“Yah, Mamm. I have wanted to go to town for so long. Now that it is happening, I am too excited to sit still.”

“You must copy Simon and the way he remains quiet.”

“Simon is quiet because he is older.”

Simon shoved his young brother playfully. “Years do not make the difference. I was born quiet and you were born to talk and wiggle. Datt said we were born different.”

“Because you are tall and I am short?”

“You will grow, Andrew. Mamm said I am ready to grow out of my clothes.”

“And your hat and shoes,” the younger boy added. “You said they are both too small.”

Noah turned to Ruthie. “Perhaps we should stop at the shoe store.”

“Spring is almost upon us, and summer will follow soon thereafter. The boys go barefoot when the weather is warm.”

Ruthie’s pride was keeping her from buying shoes. Pride and a lack of resources.

He lowered his voice to keep the children from hearing. “I would like to buy shoes for Simon. Andrew, too.”

She shook her head.

“Think about it.”

Upon entering town, he pointed to the real-estate office. “I need to check on the papers for the sale of my property. Do you want to go into the dry-goods store next door?”

Again, he lowered his voice. “Get new straw hats for the boys. If they sell shoes, buy them, too.”

“The shoes can wait, Noah, and their old hats are fine.”

“Mamm, my hat hardly fits,” Simon moaned. Evidently he had heard a portion of their conversation.

“Please, Ruthie.” Noah leaned closer so the boys could not see the wad of bills he placed into her hand. “Let me do this.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then glanced back at Simon. “Noah is right. You both are outgrowing not only your shoes, but also your hats. We will get hats today and shoes at the end of the summer.”

“Then it’s decided.” Noah smiled. “I won’t be long. If you need something new, Ruthie, I would be glad to buy all the purchases. You and your family were always there for me when times were tough.”

And when his father was on one of his binges, but Noah wouldn’t mention that in front of the boys.

“Thank you, Noah. I will pay you back for the hats.”

“No need.” Except for her pride.

He turned the buggy toward the rear of the store and tied the mare to the hitching post. The boys eagerly jumped down while he helped Ruthie out of the buggy.

“I am not used to such attention,” she whispered once her feet touched the pavement.

She stood still for a long moment. He didn’t want to move lest the moment passed and she stepped away.

“You deserve attention, Ruthie,” he whispered.

“We are no longer young teens, Noah.” She turned to gather her sons. “We will see you when you are finished with your real-estate business.”

Noah glanced along the street to ensure no one suspect was hovering nearby. The man who had come after Ruthie at her house was a coward and would hide until darkness, or when she was alone, before he struck again.

Noah would make sure she and the boys weren’t left unprotected while he stayed in the area. But as he walked into the real-estate office, he knew he couldn’t protect them for long. As soon as the sale of his father’s property was final, Noah would leave Amish Mountain.

“Is it Ruthie Eicher I see?” the female clerk asked when Ruthie stepped into the shop with the boys following close behind.

Ruthie’s first inclination was to turn around and leave the store, but the boys were excited about their shopping adventure, and she would not let her own desire to stay away from people ruin the day for her sons.

She nodded and stepped closer, trying to identify the Amish woman, near her own age, who had greeted them.

“You do not recognize me?” the clerk asked. “I am Fannie Martin. We went to school together.”

The name surprised her since the slender woman standing in front of her looked nothing like the plump Fannie she remembered from her youth. “You are Daniel’s sister.”

“Yah.” The clerk nodded. “I was a year younger and always thought you were the prettiest girl in the school.”

Ruthie’s cheeks warmed. “You should not say such things, Fannie.”

“Of course I should not say them, but still I do. Are these fine boys your sons?”

She nodded, her heart swelling with maternal pride that could not be helped. If pride could ever be positive, it would be a mother’s love for her children.

“What can I help you find?” the clerk asked.

“The boys wanted to look at straw hats.”

“A shipment came in last week. You will find them on the last aisle in the rear of the store.”

The bell over the door rang as another customer stepped inside. Ruthie recognized Sarah Deitweiler, a middle-aged woman with a pinched nose and unsmiling eyes. Sarah had spread rumors around town about Ben’s vice. Ruthie sighed at the memory of Sarah’s less-than-loving comments. Ruthie’s Aunt Mattie, her mother’s sister, had tried to ease Ruthie’s upset, yet even her aunt found Sarah to be a troublesome gossip.

Not wanting to give Mrs. Deitweiler more fuel for her wagging tongue, Ruthie steered the boys to the back of the shop.

Fannie greeted the newly arrived customer with much fanfare, as if to ensure Sarah Deitweiler’s shopping experience would be positive. Word of mouth was the best way to market, the Amish knew, but one disgruntled customer could sour a business’s reputation.

“Is that Ruthie Eicher?” the older woman said loud enough to be heard throughout the store.

“You know her?” the cheerful clerk asked.

“I don’t associate with her type. In fact, I find it strange that she would show her face in town after everything that happened with her husband.”

“Mrs. Deitweiler, a wife is not responsible for her husband’s actions,” the clerk said in Ruthie’s defense.

“You may think that, child, but as you age, you will learn the truth.” The older woman harrumphed. “I will leave now to do my grocery shopping and come back to purchase my dry goods another day.”

Ruthie glanced down at her sons. Simon’s face fell and Andrew’s brow furrowed. The boys had overheard the woman’s comment just as Ruthie had. She hated seeing their embarrassment.

Did they realize what it meant to be shunned? She had never mentioned their father’s tirade, when he had walked out of the Sunday service after calling the bishop and elders hypocrites. Simon had been old enough to remember the stares of those gathered to worship that day. Now he placed his hand in hers and squeezed as if offering support.

“What people say about us is not important, boys. What is important is what is in our hearts and that we live our lives as Gott would want. You do not need to hang your heads or be ashamed. You are fine boys, and I am proud of both of you.”

“But the woman did not want to shop when you were in the store,” Simon said, pointing out what they both knew to be true.

“We will not try to guess her reason for leaving. Instead, we will look at hats, which is the purpose for our visit.”

Although Ruthie tried to make light of what had happened, the boys had been deflated and their exuberance faltered.

Simon picked out a hat, then peered at the price tag. “My old hat is gut, Mamm. It keeps the sun from my eyes. I do not need a newer hat that will do the same thing.”

“But—” Andrew started to object as he reached for a hat in his size.

Simon took his hand. “Andrew, this is not what we need now. Come, we will go outside and wait for Noah while Mamm shops for herself.”

Touched by Simon’s maturity, and also saddened that he realized how far she had to stretch each dollar, she ushered them both toward the door. “I need nothing today,” she told the boys. “We will all wait for Noah outside.”

The clerk was busy unloading new merchandise and did not see them leave.

Once outside, they sat on a bench near the sidewalk and watched the cars and buggies pass. The sun had gone behind the clouds and the breeze was crisp. Their adventure was off to a less-than-encouraging start.

Seeing Noah exit the real-estate office and hurry toward them, she feared he would have news of the imminent sale of his property. If he announced he was leaving in the next day or two, she would return to the buggy and ask him to take them home.

Instead, Noah smiled as he neared. “Did you find hats?”

“We will wait for another day,” Simon answered for both boys.

Noah glanced at her, as if questioning what happened.

“We were not in the mood to shop.” She returned his money when the boys were not looking and hoped he would not press for more details.

She had thought the shame of the past would end with Ben’s death, but shame lived on even now. She could bear being rejected, but she did not want that for her children.

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