Accidentally Amish (33 page)

“As long as I’m here,” Myra said, “you might as well show me around town.”

“That will take about ten minutes.” Annie stood up, grateful for the distraction.

They retraced their steps through the barren lobby and the bustling work zone and got into Annie’s Prius. She backed up and did a three-point turn, watching the horses and buggies carefully. A couple of minutes later, they pulled out onto the highway.

“Who was that man in the gray Windbreaker?” Myra asked. “He didn’t look Amish.”

It was a warm day for a Windbreaker. “Fiftyish and balding?” Annie thought of Tom, the only
English
man at work on the cabinet panels.

“No.” Myra shook her head. “Thirtyish and skulking. He got in that tan sedan that pulled out ahead of us. I noticed him when I arrived, but he didn’t seem to be working. He stayed on the fringe of things.”

Annie had not noticed. But she had a good guess. She squinted into the sunlight and reached for the dark glasses she always stored on the dash. In a moment, the tan sedan came into focus. She did not recognize it, but she closed the gap slightly and paced her speed to maintain an even distance. The turn onto Main Street and downtown Westcliffe came up on the right, but Annie continued past the intersection, keeping the sedan in sight.

“That looked like town to me.” Myra craned her head to the right and back.

“Blink and you miss it. “Annie pressed her lips together. “There’s some new construction up this way that might give you an idea of the town’s potential. People are building some nice homes. Rufus has a couple of custom cabinetry jobs there. His work is art.”

They went past a sprawl of new homes and into a stretch of active construction. The tan sedan slowed, and Annie let off the accelerator slightly. When it turned into a construction zone, Annie drove past.

“There’s not much more up here. We’ll go back to Main Street.” Annie pulled to the shoulder, waited for a minivan to pass, and swung the Prius around to head back toward town. As she passed the tan sedan, she looked carefully at the sign on the site.

Kramer Construction. Just what she thought.

“Mrs. Weichert runs an antiques store in town,” Annie said. “Well, antiques and miscellaneous items of interest. We can stop if you like.”

“No time. May Levering is expecting me for tennis this afternoon, and then there’s some dreary fund-raising dinner that your father says I must attend.”

Annie turned down Main Street and slowed. “Welcome to Westcliffe, Colorado. The signs tell you when it changes from Westcliffe to Silver Cliff, but it’s not much.” Annie pointed out the coffee shop, a thrift store, and the local newspaper office, then swung down a side street. Within four minutes, they hit the old schoolhouse, the historic Lutheran church, and a railroad museum. “That’s about it.” Annie turned again to head back to the highway.
Except the house I bought.
They were headed west toward the shimmering Sangre de Cristos now. “You can’t beat the view.”

“It’s spectacular—I give you that.” Myra twisted slightly in her seat belt to look at her daughter. “But somehow I still think it’s not the view that pulls you here.”

A
nnie drove by the construction site two more times later in the afternoon. All she wanted to know was if the man she saw was Karl Kramer himself or someone who worked for him. Either way it was suspicious for him to leave a car up by the highway and take refuge in the trees while a couple of dozen people worked—and then drive to a place with a Kramer Construction sign. Once, she pulled over to the side of the road to take out her phone and do an Internet search on images of augers.

She seethed just thinking about it. Rufus would tell her to let it go. But Annie had some choice words spinning in her head that she would love to spit out at a prime suspect.

The day was over. Rufus would have to recraft four face panels, but the sides and top of the framing to hold the cabinets were salvaged. Patient volunteer scrubbing, sanding, and refinishing had cabinet surfaces looking as they were meant to be, saving him days of labor. Rufus was confident he had sufficient wood left to create the new front panels and the top of the desk. Mo fussed about how long the delay would take before Rufus could attempt installation again, but eventually she accepted the answer he gave.

Annie pulled her car into the long Beiler driveway. She turned in the gravel alongside the barn and negotiated her car to the back, where the structure provided a path of shade during the hottest part of the day.

As Annie walked around the barn, voices—in Pennsylvania Dutch—drew her inside. Rufus stood feeding an apple to Dolly while Lydia and Sophie gathered garden tools. They were all laughing about something. Annie hoped it wasn’t her. When she stood in the open doorway, conversation switched to English.

“We should be able to pull the carrots soon,” Lydia said.

“The beans just keep coming,” Sophie said.

Somehow Annie thought the conversation must have been less mundane before she arrived.

“Do you want to help us in the garden?” Lydia said. “We’re just doing a little weeding and looking for what needs picking.”

“I don’t know anything about gardens or how to tell if something is ready to pick.” Annie took a step backward.

“We’ll show you what to do.” Sophie reached for her arm and pulled her deeper into the barn.

“Okay, then,” Annie said. “Annalise Friesen at your service.”

Jacob burst into the barn breathing fast. “A man is at the house looking for Annalise.
Mamm
said to see if she was here.”

Annie saw Rufus stiffen. She sucked in her breath.

“What does he look like?” Rufus glanced at Annie and then back at Jacob.

“He’s
English.
He’s wearing a suit, and his shoes are really shiny. He came in a car that looks gold and brown at the same time.”

“Bronze.” Annie stepped even farther into the barn.

“Is he on the porch?” Rufus calmly fed the last bit of apple to Dolly.

The little boy nodded.

“Jacob,” Rufus said, “I want you to walk slowly—don’t run—back to the porch and ask the man if he would like to talk to me.”

“Shouldn’t I tell him Annalise is here?”

“Just ask him to talk to me. Do you understand?”

The little boy nodded.

Rufus turned Jacob’s shoulders back toward the house. “Remember, slowly.”

Jacob nodded. Annie watched the boy concentrate on moving slowly, his stride like that of a toddler.

Rufus, on the other hand, spun around. “Quick. In the dress.” He turned to the shelves that held blankets the family used in the buggies in the winter and pulled out the dress he had left there weeks ago.

“That’s Ruth’s dress,” Sophie said.

“Just help Annalise get it on.” Rufus thrust the dress at Annie. “Get her hair up under the
kapp.
”

Annie felt like a fashion model with a crew transforming her. Lydia dropped the dress over her head and rapidly pinned the front closure. Sophie removed Annie’s shoes, rolled up her jeans, then grabbed Annie’s hair—painfully—and punched it under the white
kapp.
With no hairpins to hold the hair in place, Lydia tied the
kapp
under Annie’s chin

“To the garden, all of you.” Rufus shoved a rake into Annie’s hands.

By the time Jacob returned to the barn with the stranger, three young Amish women were working barefoot in the garden sixty feet away. One of them, in a deep purple dress, kneeled to pull weeds by hand, her back to the barn. Rufus assessed the man. Yes, this was the man from behind the bank. Rufus met him at the barn’s doorway, leaning on a pitchfork.

“Can I help you?” Rufus crossed his arms.

The man laid his head to one side. “I’m looking for Annie Friesen.”

“Her name is Annalise,” Jacob said.

“Jacob,” Rufus said calmly. “Thank you for showing our guest the way. You can go back to helping
Mamm
now.”

“But—”

“Jacob, you must go.”

“Yes sir.” The boy turned to go, disappointed.

“Just a minute.” The stranger glanced across the yard to the garden. “How many sisters do you have?”

“Three,” Jacob said simply.

Rufus almost smiled at the perfection of it all. “
Mamm
is waiting for you, Jacob.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

The two men stared at each other.

“I don’t believe I got your name the last time we met.” Rufus set his feet solidly shoulder width apart.

“Names don’t matter.” Rick’s friendly veneer proved thin. “How quaint. Did she find you charming at the bank as well?”

Rufus shoved the pitchfork more firmly into earth. “Why have you come here?”

“I wanted to talk to Annie. I was told she might be at the Beiler place. I had no idea I would find you.”

“Who did you speak to?” Rufus wanted to know.

“The woman at the motel.” Rick waved a hand casually. “She’s a little frazzled about something, but she said Annie was staying here.”

“How did you find the motel?” Rufus asked.

Rick exhaled. “I’m not going to play twenty questions with you, whoever you are. I just want to talk to Annie. She is my fiancée. I’m worried about her.”

“It did not appear that way to me the last time we met.”

“Mind your own business. Isn’t that what you people do?”

“Of course. But I would have to say that an
English
man standing outside my barn making demands is my business.”

“Just show me where she is.”

Rufus opened his arms wide. “Do you see her?”

Rick leaned to one side to peer into the barn. “Must be a dozen places to hide in there.”

“You are free to inspect the barn,” Rufus said. “Many people are curious about Amish ways.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not here for some lame tour.”

“Then perhaps our business is concluded.” Rufus met Rick’s eyes. “In fact, I’m quite sure it is.”

Rick pivoted and walked to his Jeep. On the way, he glanced around the property again. Rufus followed a few steps behind, smiling blandly until Rick got in his vehicle and turned the ignition. Rick reversed, turned around, and churned up clouds of dirt on his way to the main road. Rufus did not move until the car was out of sight.

When he turned around, Annalise had grabbed fistfuls of the purple dress and was hurtling toward him. Rufus pointed to the barn. Better to be out of sight, just in case.

She threw her arms around him the minute they were inside. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” The weight of her against his chest. Her blond hair escaping the
kapp.
The sight of her in an Amish dress. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Gently, he stepped out of her embrace before he could not stop himself.

“He must have followed my mother.”

“Have you explained to her what is going on?”

“Not … every detail. I suppose I’ll have to tell her something now.” She paused, looked him in the eye. “Why did you hide me?”

Why indeed? “Was I supposed to hand you over to someone I know means you harm?”

“I’ll call my attorney. He’ll do something. I don’t know what. But something.” Annalise patted the dress fabric, no doubt looking for a pocket where her cell phone should be.

“You look stunning,” he said softly. “I always knew you would. I guess that’s why I brought you the dress in the first place.”

Annalise’s motion shifted to smoothing down the full skirt. Then one hand went to the
kapp.
“Am I doing this right? I notice your sisters leave their ties loose.”

“Because their hair is braided and pinned up,” he said. “It stays put.”

“I’ll have to learn to do that.” She tugged, and the knot gave easily. With the
kapp
loosened, her hair tumbled around her shoulders.

A woman’s hair. Who would have thought it could move him so?

“The dress fits.” He soaked in the beauty of her. Her gold chain had worked its way over the round neckline. “I imagine it feels strange to you.”

Her answer was slow. “Not as strange as you might suppose.” She ran a tongue along her lips then pressed them together, holding her breath.

His own breath ran shallow. “In the
English
world, I suppose this is where I would kiss you.”

“And in your world?” She stepped toward him and tilted her head up. Her
kapp
slipped off her head and hesitated at her shoulder before falling. Neither of them moved to stop it from hitting the ground.

“In my world, I very much want to,” Rufus finally said.

Annalise laid a hand on his upper arm, sending him spinning. Her face was right there, and upturned.