Arms of Love (25 page)

“Then go on with you—git!” Bruce snarled, turning his ratlike eyes back to Lena’s. She heard the retreating high-heeled boot steps of the other woman and thought desperately how she might escape. Surely to stay calm mattered most.

“Stop. Let her go. Or I will shoot.”

Lena recognized John’s voice and began to struggle in earnest. She broke her mouth free. “Nee, John. Do not. ’Tis wrong.”

The man called Bruce laughed in a menacing tone. “Got a boy to yer rescue, eh? You’d better shoot straight, whether ’tis wrong or right, or I will snap her pretty little neck.”

“I think not,” intoned an older, dry voice. There was a whizzing sound in Lena’s ears, and she saw a stone sink into Bruce’s neck with a dull, sickly sound. He let her go and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Lena looked over to see a man in a blue frock coat with blond hair standing behind John. He had a slingshot in his hand and a grin on his face. “Madam, if you’ll come this way. I’m Major Dale Ellis. British army, I’m afraid, but glad to be at your service.”

Lena hurried toward John as Major Ellis spoke to her
bruder
.

“Blow the powder from the pan in the gun, son. You did well.”

John obeyed, a faint smile on his lips as he lifted the gun, but Lena frowned.

“John . . . you would not have shot, would you?” she asked in desperation as Major Ellis herded them back out onto the street and into the crowd.

“ ’Course I would have,” the boy said. “I wouldn’t let some sc— some man lay hands on my sister.”

“Brother and sister then,” the major said with a smile. “And Amish, I think.”

“
Ya
,” Lena murmured. “Forgive our manners. Thank you for your help. I’m Lena Yoder, and this is my brother, John.”

“My pleasure. Now, if you would allow me, I believe some light refreshment might be just the thing to settle everyone’s nerves.”

“Oh, we could not intrude,” Lena said, wanting to get home.

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am. My wife back in England would insist on tea, I am sure. Oh, but here’s someone from your own faith, and a good friend of mine. Come, I’ll introduce you.” He shepherded them across the dusty street to the glassworks store, and Lena caught a sharp breath that the major did not seem to notice as he went on cheerfully.

“Adam Wyse. Meet Lena and John Yoder . . .”

“What happened to you?” Adam asked, urgency tingeing his voice as he stepped forward and caught Lena in his arms.

“Oh,” Dale said brightly. “Perhaps you know each other.”

Adam lifted the piece of Lena’s torn white kerchief between his fingers and something swam in his brain, like fog on tilting glass. He could not understand, but he knew that he was about to slip again into that darkness and despair, all because of a torn kerchief. He snapped himself upright as Lena pulled away from him.

“Adam,” she said low. “I am fine. It was just a man in an alley.”

“One of our mates from the other day, I believe,” Dale interjected.

“Are you hurt?” Adam stretched to run his hands down her arms, and she shook her head.

“I am fine.”

“She’s fine; the boy’s fine. I know. Since we’re all together, let’s have a bit of a picnic outside of town.”

Adam turned to stare at the major, sensing Lena do the same.

John spoke up. “
Ach
, let’s, Lena. We have not had a picnic in forever.”

Adam watched her prepare to refuse, but then something softened in her face as if she saw her brother for what he was, half man, but still half boy.

She smiled then, and gestured with her basket. “But we have nothing to eat.”

Major Ellis clapped Adam on the shoulder and bowed low before her. “Please, allow me. I am sure that the kitchens of the White Swan will be more than able to prepare a quick but luscious repast. I will return shortly. John, would you like to come along?”

Adam watched as the boy nodded eagerly, handed Lena his gun, and scampered off after the major’s long strides. Adam took the gun from her and laid it inside the back of his covered wagon. He moved slowly, not really wanting to look at her when she had such a vulnerable air about her. He was amazed at his desire to do harm to the man who had attacked her.

“You are sure that you are well?” He turned, his body tense.

“Adam . . . I prayed for the man. He didn’t harm me. ’Twas only a bad scare, that’s all.”

He nodded, looking at the small tips of her shoes peeking out from beneath her skirts. “Only a bad scare,” he murmured. “ ’Twas how I felt when I first heard news of you . . . and Isaac.”

“I tried to tell you that day at the creek.”

He watched her cross her arms defensively and longed to smooth the troubled frown from her brow. “
Ya
, what was it you said about obeying and sacrificing? Do you fancy that you are making some offering of self, Lena? Do you believe that is honorable before the Lord?”

“We are all to offer ourselves to the Lord,” she snapped, then lowered her voice, color flooding her cheeks. “I do what I do of God’s will.

I do not expect you to understand, nor is it any of your business to understand. It is between
Derr Herr
, Isaac, and me.”

Adam snorted. “Sounds like a good union, in theory.”

“ ’Tis the way that all marriages should be, Adam.”

He felt the rub of her words and would have rejoined when John ran between them.

“Here he comes,” the boy laughed. “He’s got a whole basket full of goodies!”

Dale followed, bearing a huge wicker hamper. “Cheerio, Adam Wyse. Let us pack up and go.”

Adam took the hamper with a reluctant smile and watched as Dale offered Lena his arm and helped her trim form up onto the wagon seat.

Perhaps a picnic wasn’t a bad idea after all . . .

Lena sat shyly on one of the linen tablecloths that Dale had procured from the hotel while the two men unloaded the hamper. She glanced around, enjoying the feeling of simply being still in the spring air, and admired God’s handiwork in the fresh green grass, golden forsythia, and burgeoning bushes. Adam had found a spot that was isolated enough from the main road, yet still allowed them visibility of the wagon and horses.

She listened to the rumbling voices of the two men and realized that they must have been friends for some time. Here then was another secret of Adam’s, one that her father might call dark—that he, a peacekeeper in theory, should befriend a British prisoner of war. She supposed, watching his fine features without appearing to do so, that men were simply who they were to him; no matter the color of uniform they wore or their station in life.

“I say!” John bounced down beside her, having come from shooting Dale’s slingshot at trees. “Look at the spread!”

Dale laughed, but Lena shook her head reprovingly. “Be polite,” she ordered in an undertone.

But the major smiled. “I’ve got three lads back in England, Mistress Lena. The eldest is about John’s age here. I miss the exuberance of my boys, and I would have to agree with John. The hotel put up quite an array.”

Lena agreed, laughing, and wondered how much coin the major had to pay for the display of fresh pasties, two kinds of pie, breads, cheese, and crocks of various spreads. There were also bottles of soft cider and root beer, glistening with condensation from the icehouse to the sunshine.

The four made a merry repast, then sat about, full and talking.

“So do you know each other because you are Amish and meet together?” Dale asked, looking at Adam, where he sat a distance from Lena.

John laughed. “You might say that about these two, though Lena’s dead set on marrying Adam’s brother.”

“I see,” Dale said, clearly confused, but polite.

Lena threw her
bruder
a daggered glance. “Yes, I am to marry Isaac Wyse.”

“But she likes Adam Wyse,” John went on, his mouth full of cookie.

“Quite a dilemma.” Dale smiled, but he shot a serious glance at Adam, then turned to John. “Have you heard the latest ghost tale, lad?”

John shook his head. “
Nee
, do tell. Please, Lena. May he?”

Lena, like many of the Amish, was superstitious enough to disagree with a ghost tale on a rainy night, but there seemed to be no harm in the broad light of a sunny day. “If it pleases you, Major. But perhaps I will take the chance for a bit of a walk.”

“Call me Dale . . . and by all means, let me entertain the boy. ’Twill do my heart good.”

“Thank you, Major—Dale. I am sure we will hear a good many variations of the story you tell come this winter. The Amish love storytelling around the hearth, and John excels at the art.”

“You are most welcome, fair maid.” Dale grinned as John begged for him to begin.

Lena rose, and the men scrambled to do the same. “
Ach
, please, sit back down. I will just take a brief walk among the pines.”

“I will follow,” Adam said lazily. “No need to be threatened again by a panther or ruffian . . . or the latest ghost.”

“Panther?” Dale asked, looking alarmed.

Lena heard John begin to tell the major tales of the woods and panthers as she drifted off into the trees. She knew Adam walked behind her, but tried to concentrate on the heady scent of the stand of tall pines instead.

“I would have it from your lips alone,” Adam said finally, without any apparent attempt to make her feel guilty.

“I have told you already,” Lena whispered, knowing what he meant. She bent to pick up a pinecone and squeezed its jagged edges hard against the palm of her hand.

He took it from her absently, tossing it away and catching her hand to rub at the marks the impression had left. “Then tell me again.”

She pulled away from him and stared up at the towering pines that surrounded them like straight-backed soldiers, never wavering on their course to reach the sky. If only she could be as old as the trees so that she might have knowledge and wisdom enough to know what she was doing, what she had to say.

“I will marry Isaac,” she heard herself murmur. Then she took off running through the lines of pine, as if she were a child again and could be free to play and scamper like a wild deer. She wanted to forget about the man whose steps she knew followed hers, muffled by the rich and cushioning layers of pine needles.

Then the tree line broke and they were in a small circlet of green grass. Lena stopped and stared at the ground in wonder.