Dark Crossings (14 page)

Jacob nodded to Sarah that the harness was unbuckled, and she
led the mare away from the wreckage, letting the animal scramble out of the
ditch.

He smiled at Sarah. They were both drenched and aching, and
Bess was okay even though his buggy was probably a total loss. But it could have
been so much worse.

“
Gut
job.”

She nodded, smiling back in spite of the rain and mud. “You,
too.”

* * *

A
N
HOUR
LATER
she and Jacob had changed into dry clothes and were warm again, sitting at the
table with Sarah’s
daad
and Chief Byler, mugs of
coffee in front of them. Sarah’s
mamm
bustled about
the kitchen, slicing into the dried-apple pie she’d made that morning. Sarah
stole a quick glance at Jacob’s face, needing to assure herself that he was all
right. She wouldn’t soon forget the panic she’d felt when she feared he’d been
injured, maybe killed, out there on the road. Her fingers trembled, and she
pressed them around the mug, absorbing the warmth.

“Sam Robertson wasn’t able to get a license number,
unfortunately,” Chief Byler said. “He was too far away and the conditions were
too bad. He said the vehicle had passed him a couple of miles back, but of
course there was no reason then for him to notice. Did you see anything?”

He seemed to address the question to both of them, glancing
from her to Jacob.

Sarah shook her head. “I looked back and saw the lights, so I
warned Jacob.” She frowned a little, teasing the memory out. “Something about
the lights… It wasn’t a car, I don’t think.”

“A van,” Jacob said. “A white van. That’s all I saw. Just a
flash.”

Just a flash, because he’d been too busy trying to save
them.

“When I told Jacob, he got the buggy over as far as he could.
The driver had plenty of room to pass.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Chief Byler said. “Reckless driving,
leaving the scene of an accident, driving too fast for conditions… He’s piled up
a list of charges to answer for, assuming we can find him.”

Josiah Weaver cleared his throat. “It is kind of you, Chief
Byler,” he said. “But we will not press charges.”

That was the Amish way. Forgiveness. Sarah discovered she
didn’t feel much forgiveness toward the driver. She would have to work on
that.

“You won’t need to,” Chief Byler said, and there was
satisfaction in his voice. He’d dealt with the Amish often enough to know their
beliefs. “This isn’t a matter of vandalism against private property. Hit-and-run
is a criminal act and doesn’t depend upon your pressing charges. Jacob and Sarah
will just have to say what they saw if it comes to a trial.”

Sarah could almost sense her
daad’
s
struggle. He didn’t want to be involved with the law, but he would never
knowingly disobey it, either. Finally, he nodded.

Chief Byler turned back to them, his strong face serious, eyes
intent. “You understand, I hope. If not for Jacob’s good driving, someone could
have been killed today. We can’t let that person go free to hit someone else,
who might not be so lucky.”

Jacob nodded. “I wish I could help, but I was too busy trying
to control the horse to see more.”

“It happened so fast,” Sarah added. “Just a blur of white, and
then I was flying through the air.”

Mamm
made a small sound and touched
her daughter’s shoulder. Sarah looked up at her, managing a smile.

“Well, I’m just glad you two are all right.” Chief Byler rose.
“If you think of anything else, no matter how small—” He stopped when his cell
phone rang. “Excuse me.” He turned away, putting the tiny phone to his ear, his
answers too low to be intelligible.

He snapped the phone closed, a new energy seeming to charge his
body. “That list of charges just got longer. The van was stolen this afternoon
from over in New Holland. They found it abandoned about two miles down the road.
No sign of the driver.” He was out of the house almost before they could say
goodbye.

“
Ach,
he’s gone without his pie,”
Mamm
noted mournfully, not liking it when any
visitor to her house left without being fed.

“Teenagers,”
Daad
said, with an air
of finality. “That’s what he’ll find. Some
Englische
teenagers stealing a car for a joyride.”

“Maybe so,” Jacob murmured, but he sent a worried look in
Sarah’s direction.

She understood what he was thinking. The incident with the
horses last night, now the buggy crash today. Either one of those things might
have injured her enough to keep her away from work.

Well, if that was the case, the guilty person would be
disappointed. Thanks to the new locks Jacob had installed, no one would get into
the Strickland house unless she let them in.

CHAPTER SEVEN

M
AMM
HAD
BEEN
URGING
HER
to go to bed since the police chief left, but Sarah managed to evade her.

“I’m all right,
Mamm.
” She bent to
press her cheek against her mother’s.
Mamm
was
sitting with her mending in her lap, but hadn’t yet taken a stitch. “Really. I’d
rather do something.”

“Play Chinese checkers with us?” Emma asked, her tone hopeful.
She was poised by the stack of games on the bookshelf, ready to pull the game
out.

“
Ja,
that’s a
gut
idea.” Sarah smiled at her little sister. “That will get my mind
on beating you.” She knew she’d said the right thing when the lines in
Mamm’
s face relaxed.

“Set it up,” Sarah instructed. “I’ll be back in a minute, soon
as I tell Jacob something.”

She hurried toward the kitchen, listening to her sisters
squabbling good-naturedly about who would go first. The door was closing behind
Jacob, but he must have heard what she’d said, because he was waiting on the
porch when she got there.

The evening had turned chilly, and she drew her shawl around
her. Jacob leaned against the porch railing, his face a pale oval in the dim
light. She didn’t need to see him to know that he was waiting for her to
speak.

Now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say. That moment
after the accident, when she’d clung to him, pressing her body against his… Her
face flooded with heat at the thought of it. She had to say something to put
that in its proper perspective and return things to normal between them. She
just didn’t know what.

“
Mamm
is determined to send me to
bed,” she said finally. “You’d think I had a cold instead of a few bumps and
bruises.”

“She loves you.” His voice sounded deep, coming at her out of
the dark. “She was scared, that’s all.”

“
Daad’
s got a bee in his bonnet
about
Englische
teenagers,” she said, not wanting to
think about being scared. “He’s sure that’s who is responsible.”

“He hasn’t forgotten about the kids who splashed the red paint
on the barn last year, ain’t so?”

She could hear the smile in his voice, and she found it
soothing.
Daad
had forgiven those kids, of course,
and his solution had been to paint the whole barn red.

“Well, I guess he could be right in this case,” she stated.
“Taking a car, going for a joyride—that’s the sort of thing teenagers would
do.”

“Do you think that, Sarah, or are you trying to convince
yourself?”

She shook her head, moving to the railing to stand next to him.
“If it was deliberate, I’d think the driver would have done worse than sideswipe
us.”

“Not if he just wanted to convince you to stay at home instead
of going to the Strickland house.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, remembering the summer
he’d suddenly shot up to become taller than she was. “Is that what you want me
to do?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, and then he shrugged. “Maybe so,
but you won’t, ain’t so?”

She thought there was a note of frustration in his voice, and
knew that was exactly what he wanted.

“You are the one who suggested I go, Jacob.” She couldn’t help
sounding defensive. “If there is a clue to why Mr. Strickland died in that
house, I am the most likely person to find it.”

“
Ja,
I said that.” His words were
heavy, as if weighted down with his worry. “But that doesn’t mean I can stop
fretting.”

“You should. After all, you’re the one who put new locks on all
the doors. No one can get in now, and I will be careful.”

Jacob’s hands clenched the railing, and she could feel tension
coming off him in waves. “That’s not enough. I should see about taking time off
work to help you. You’d get it done faster, and I’d be there with you.”

Annoyance flared up in her, a welcome relief from the remnants
of fear. “I am not in need of a babysitter, Jacob. You seem to forget that I am
all grown up.”

“Grown up? Then why do you sound like a stubborn little girl?”
He seemed as annoyed as she was.

“I do not.” As soon as she said it, Sarah knew this kind of
argument was the last thing she wanted. She wanted…

Jacob grasped her shoulders. For an instant she thought he was
going to shake her.

And then he drew her toward him and kissed her. His lips were
firm and warm, and after the initial shock she felt herself lean into the kiss,
wanting to put her arms around him, to hold him close—

But almost before she could think, he’d pulled away, turning to
take the porch steps in one long stride, and vanishing into the dark.

* * *

S
ARAH
’
S
MOTHER
HAD
already planned
to drive her to work the next day, to Sarah’s great relief. After a sleepless
night, she was still too uncertain of her own mind to want to face Jacob again
so soon.

Fortunately,
Mamm
was too busy with
her own plans to notice Sarah’s preoccupation. A basket filled with sticky buns
fresh from the oven sent a tantalizing aroma wafting around the two of them as
they rode. Sarah hadn’t felt much like eating breakfast, but the smell of those
sticky buns would tempt a marble statue.

“I hope your aunt remembered to make arrangements for the
taxi,”
Mamm
said, always fretting over any plans she
hadn’t carried out herself.

“I’m sure she did. If not, Cousin Barbara will have reminded
her.”

The taxi wasn’t really a taxi, of course, just a car driven by
an elderly
Englischer
who was willing to take the
Amish places they couldn’t get by horse and buggy. The church had no rules
against riding in a car, only against owning one yourself, because that made it
too easy to be running around away from your family.

This trip to the big fabric store in a nearby town had been in
the planning stages for a month, it seemed. Sarah’s mother and three friends
would shop and then have lunch at a restaurant to celebrate Cousin Barbara’s
birthday. Afterward,
Mamm
intended to wait at Aunt
Mary’s until Sarah was ready to go home.

Her sister, Mary, their cousin Barbara and Jacob’s
mamm
had been
Mamm’
s
dearest friends since the four of them had been born, practically. The same age,
they’d finished school the same time, of course, and had even married the same
year.

That was how things were in the Amish community. Friendships
didn’t change from moment to moment, as Sarah sometimes thought they did in the
Englische
world. Your closest friends were there
for life.

Which made that kiss from Jacob all the more inexplicable. And
made her reaction to it even less understandable. She’d thought about it half
the night, and dreamed about it when she finally fell asleep.

She and Jacob were like brother and sister. They always had
been since they were born within a month of each other and lived next door to
each other, that was only natural. Especially after his
daad
had passed and Jacob began working in the machine shop.

Sarah saw him every day of her life. How could she start
thinking of him as anything other than a brother?

But there’d been nothing brotherly about that kiss last night.
She touched her fingertips to her mouth, seeming to still feel the imprint of
Jacob’s lips.

At least she had a quiet day of work ahead of her. Maybe
somehow her feelings would become clear.

Mamm
pressed a couple of
wax-paper-wrapped sticky buns in her hand once she’d climbed down at the house.
“Have those for a snack. And
chust
walk over to
Mary’s when you’re done,
ja?
”

“I will,
Mamm.
Danki
.” Clutching the warm rolls, she waved to her
mother and hurried up the walk.

Hank came around the back of the house toward her as she
approached the door, almost as if he’d been watching for her. “Hi, Sarah. Wow,
something sure does smell good.” He eyed the rolls.

“My
mamm’
s sticky buns.” The new
key stuck at first, but then turned and the door swung open. “Would you like to
have one?” She could hardly not make the offer, since he was standing right
there.

“That’d be great.” He hesitated, glancing at the open door.
“Maybe I’d better eat it out here.”

True, she wasn’t supposed to let people in unless Leo approved
of them. But what harm could it do for Hank to come into the kitchen? It wasn’t
as if he hadn’t been there a hundred times before. Besides, she’d be right there
to make sure he didn’t take anything out of the house.

“You’ll have sticky syrup all over you if you do.
Komm,
please.” She went in, setting the package and
her keys on the shelf while she took off the jacket she’d worn against the early
morning chill.

“That’s nice of you.” Hank followed her to the kitchen. “I’m
not much of a cook, so mostly I eat macaroni and cheese from a package. Or
peanut butter sandwiches.”

“This is better.” She put one of the buns on a plate and handed
it to him, then filled a glass with cold water, sticky buns not being something
you’d want to eat without a drink. “My mother baked these fresh this
morning.”

Hank took a huge bite, and a blissful expression spread across
his face. “That’s the best thing I ever tasted.” His words were muffled by the
syrupy treat, and she had to smile.

“I will save mine for later, once I have some work done.” She
rewrapped the remaining rolls and set them on the counter.

“That reminds me why I wanted to see you this morning,” Hank
said. “I have to stop by the store after my classes. To get some more peanut
butter.” He gave that boyish grin. “I thought you might need some cleaning
supplies. I’d be glad to pick anything up for you.”

“That is
sehr
kind of you.” She
opened the cabinet where cleaning supplies were stored. “Actually, you could get
me another bottle of window cleaner.” She held up the half-empty bottle. “And a
package of paper towels.” There would be plenty of cleaning to do once she’d
finished sorting and packing, and she must be sure the house was in tip-top
shape before it was turned over to the historical society.

“Will do.” Hank stuffed the last of the roll in his mouth and
drained the glass of water. “I’ll be off, then. If you’re not here when I get
back, I’ll leave the things on the side porch.”

“That will be fine.” She’d probably be here, unless he was
running very late, but in any event, no one would bother a grocery bag on the
porch.

Sarah saw him out, carefully locking the door behind him. She’d
certain sure not want to be in here without knowing the doors were locked.

A while later she was deeply engrossed in cleaning the study
when the doorbell rang, setting up echoes in the empty house. Her hand jerked,
sending a stack of old photographs toppling to the floor.

Foolish, she told herself, starting down the stairs. Jumping
that way at an unexpected sound. It was good no one had been around to witness
her reaction.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could see Leo
Frost through the glass in the front door. Relieved, she hurried to open it.
She’d be glad to turn the extra keys over to him.

He stepped inside, scanning her face with a worried expression.
“Are you all right, Sarah? I just heard about the accident with the buggy
yesterday. You shouldn’t have come in to work today.”

“I am fine, and Jacob is, as well. We weren’t hurt at all. Even
Bess was only scared.”

Some of the worry left his face. “I’m relieved that all three
of you are safe, but it must have been very frightening.”

“Ja.”
She didn’t want to relive
those moments. “I’m glad to have work to do today. It takes my mind off the
accident.”

“Chief Byler told me that the car was stolen.” Leo shook his
head. “At the risk of sounding like an old fogy, I sometimes find myself longing
for the days when things like that happened in the outside world, not here.” He
dusted his hands together, as if wiping off the world’s influence. “So tell me
how the work is coming. Is there anything you need?”

“I asked Hank to pick up some window cleaner and paper towels
for me. I hope that is all right.”

“Of course, of course. I should have told you to go ahead and
purchase any supplies you need. Just save the receipts for me.”

She nodded, glad she hadn’t done anything wrong by giving Hank
the errand. “I finished sorting and packing the china from the dining room. I
left the silverware in its chest, because I didn’t know what you wanted done
with it.”

“Just leave it for the moment,” he said, taking a tablet from
his briefcase and making a note. “I’ll have to arrange to have it valued.”

She nodded. “And I’ve begun work on the study. I left any
papers for you, but there are so many other things—souvenirs from trips, old
Christmas cards, his photo albums. I don’t know what should be done with those.
It wouldn’t seem right just to throw them away. You understand.”

“All the bits and pieces of Richard’s life,” he said. “Yes, I
understand, but with no family left it’s hard to know what else to do. The photo
albums, at least, might be of value to the historical society’s collection.”

“Mr. Strickland had gotten several old albums out just
recently. He must have been looking through them that last day.” Her throat
tightened. He had been reliving his past, maybe, thinking about the people he’d
loved. But he had died alone, and that wrenched at her heart.

Leo must have known something of what she was thinking, because
he patted her hand. “Why don’t you put things like the photo albums in a
separate box? I’ll stop by later today to look through them.” He glanced at his
watch. “I have to leave now. I have an appointment with the pastor about the
memorial service for Richard. It will be on Saturday, since more people can come
then.”