Amish Christmas Secrets. Debby Giusti
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faster.
White automobiles were common among the Englisch, she told herself, hoping to calm her rapid pulse and thumping heart. Her legs burned from the exertion. The roar of the engine filled her ears.
The car’s headlights illuminated the roadway, catching her in their glare. She inched as close to the edge of the road as possible and glanced back. Her heart stopped. The car was headed straight for her. She raised her hand to wave off the driver, but he continued on course.
The front wheel of her bike slipped off the pavement and onto the rocky berm. She lost balance and crashed to the ground. Pain ricocheted through her shoulders as she skidded across the hard-packed earth.
The car stopped. A door slammed. Before she could catch her breath and climb to her feet, the man she had seen in town was leaning over her. Dark brown hair with a long brushstroke of white near his left temple. Narrow eyes and a thin mouth. The same man who had come to Will’s door sixteen months ago.
He grabbed her arm.
“Where is it?” he demanded. “Where’s the information Will stole from me?”
She tried to pull free from his hold.
He slapped her face and twisted her arm. “Tell me.”
She grimaced with pain.
“You were Will’s girlfriend and his accomplice.”
“What?”
“Don’t act dumb. All this time, we didn’t realize what he had taken until the last few days. When I saw you in town, it all became clear. He gave it to you for safekeeping, only we need it back.”
Rosie tried to pull free. “I do not have anything you want.”
“Don’t act like a stupid Amish girl,” he snarled. “You fooled us once, but you can’t fool us again.”
Tears burned her eyes.
“Will needed to be taught a lesson. Maybe you do, too.” He reached for her throat.
“No!”
She clawed at his hands, which he had wrapped around her neck. Her lungs burned like fire. She tried to breathe.
Suddenly, as if hearing someone approach, he eased his hold and cocked his head. His eyes widened as he stood upright and stared for a long moment at the crest of the hill.
Gasping for air, she scooted to the edge of the incline. If only she could escape. But how?
Turning his gaze back to her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. “You’re coming with me.”
The thought of being held captive again was too much to bear. She kicked his leg and gouged her fingers in his eyes.
“Aagh!” He dropped his head into his hands.
She turned to flee. He grabbed her shoulder. She jerked free, then tripped and fell to the ground.
“I need that information.” He kicked her once, twice. Air whooshed from her lungs.
She rolled over and saw him raise his work boot again. Cringing, she anticipated the blow, until with one last thrust of his mud-covered boot, he pushed her over the edge of the cliff.
Her head hit a boulder. Prickly thistles and scrub brush scraped her hands and legs. Rocks battered her as she slipped and slid to the bottom on the steep ravine. “Gott, help me,” she moaned until she no longer saw or heard anything.
Ezra Stoltz jiggled the reins and encouraged his mare over the crest of the hill. A car sat parked on the downward slope of the road. A tall man with a thick build stood in the glare of the car’s headlights. He glanced Ezra’s way, then quickly picked up a bike and hurled it over the edge of the roadway. Hurrying back to his car, he climbed behind the wheel, gunned the engine and headed north along the narrow country road.
With a flick of the reins, Ezra urged Bessie forward, the clip-clop of her hooves on the pavement in sync with his rapidly beating heart. Ezra had seen Rosie Glick pass the hardware store on her bike. With the fast-approaching storm, he had wanted to ensure she got home safely and had followed in his buggy. Seeing the man made him all the more concerned for her safety.
Nearing the spot where the car had parked, he pulled Bessie to a stop and jumped to the ground. Peering over the edge of the drop-off, he spied the bike, about ten yards below, and quickly descended to where it was lying.
He glanced at the steep downward slope and the boulders that pocked the hillside. Something near the rushing water caught his eye. He moved closer.
Blue fabric and a white kapp.
Rosie!
He scurried down the hill and kneeled beside her. His heart wrenched as he saw the blood that seeped from her forehead. Her arms were scraped, the hem of her dress torn. He touched her cheek.
“Can you hear me? It’s Ezra Stoltz. Open your eyes, Rosie.”
Ezra’s heart stopped when she failed to respond. Please, Gott, do not let another person die.
Rose blinked her eyes open and gasped, seeing with blurred vision a man’s face close to her own. “No,” she cried.
His hand touched her shoulder. “You took a bad fall.”
She shook her head, trying to identify the voice.
“I will take you home in my buggy.”
Buggy? She blinked, noting his blond hair and blue eyes, which stared questioningly down at her.
“We went to school together. Remember me? Ezra Stoltz?”
Ezra? Not the man in the white car. She breathed out a sigh of relief and raised up on one arm.
The Ezra Stoltz she remembered had been tall and thin and nothing like the broad-shouldered man hovering over her.
He helped her sit up. “Are you dizzy? Does anything hurt?”
Her whole body ached. She touched the tender spot on her forehead.
He leaned closer. “It is a bad cut. You hit one of the rocks as you fell.”
“Did you see what happened?” she asked.
“I saw a man on the side of the road. He tossed your bike down the ravine before he drove away.”
She glanced up the hill. “Where is my bike?”
“I will put it in the buggy, but first, we must tend to your needs.”
Grateful for his help, she tried to find something positive on which to focus. “I am scraped and bruised but not broken.”
“This is something for which we can be thankful.” He smiled, easing a bit of the fear that had tangled along her spine.
Helping her to her feet, he asked, “Are you able to climb the hill?”
“I—I think so.”
“Lean on me,” he suggested.
She had no choice but to accept his help. The incline was steep, and her legs felt like the congealed gelatin she made for her molded salads.
“Oh.” Her knee nearly buckled under her.
“I will carry you.”
Before she could decline his offer, Ezra lifted her effortlessly into his strong arms.
“I am too heavy,” she said, embarrassed by his closeness.
He chuckled. “You are too light. Your mamm must not feed you enough. Hold on, and we will climb this hill together.”
She wrapped her arm around his thick neck and dropped her cheek against his shoulder. Inhaling the masculine scent of him, she questioned her own good sense for allowing a man she barely knew to carry her in his arms.