Her Forgotten Amish Past. Debby Giusti

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Her Forgotten Amish Past - Debby Giusti


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      “You mean he might have information regarding who I am and where I live?”

      Hattie leaned closer. “Yah, but I must warn you, dear. If you go to town and ask questions, you could find more than you want to know.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      She rubbed Becca’s hand. “Think, dear. You were running from someone last night. If you notify the sheriff, he could tell the person who was chasing after you.”

      Hattie shrugged before adding, “A mean husband is someone to fear.”

      Becca glanced at Ezekiel, then turned back to Hattie. “I don’t feel like I have a husband.”

      “And how would that feel, dear?”

      “I... I’m not sure, but wouldn’t I remember the man I loved?”

      Hattie leaned even closer. “Perhaps you have a husband you do not love.”

      “Yet if I am married, there could be children.”

      Ezekiel’s gaze darkened all the more. The direction of the conversation seemed to be unsettling to both of them. “I will go to town and see for myself without involving the sheriff,” Becca said. “Perhaps then I will remember.”

      “Ezekiel will take you in the buggy,” Hattie volunteered. “But you must dress so no one will recognize you.”

      “What are you suggesting?”

      “You should wear men’s clothing, dear. You are slim and not so tall. People would think you a young Amish lad.”

      Hattie sat back and smiled with satisfaction. “Dressing as a man would be a perfect cover. Ezekiel’s clothing is too big for you, but I kept a few of my husband’s things. I will find something you can wear.”

      Ezekiel stared at Becca, as if she had been the one to suggest the idea of dressing as a man. Hattie was right. The costume would keep Becca from being recognized, especially from anyone who might do her harm, yet the idea of needing to hide her identity from others when she didn’t even know who she was or where she lived weighed heavy on her shoulders.

      The sound of a vehicle turning into the drive made Becca’s heart stop. Zeke glanced at her as if he too was concerned.

      “Stay here,” he cautioned as he rose from the table and walked to the door, grabbing his hat before he stepped outside.

      “Ach.” Hattie patted her chest as if patting down a swell of apprehension, which was exactly what Becca had bubbling up in her own throat. “I do not know who would be coming to see us.”

      Hattie’s gaze narrowed, and she pursed her lips. Then, with a shrug of her shoulders, she added, “We go for days without visitors and now they come one after the other.”

      Some friendly and some not, Becca thought, her stomach a jumble of nerves. Didn’t Hattie realize they were coming because she was here?

      Hattie pushed back from the table, hurried to the sink and then peered from the kitchen window. “It is a tall man who steps from a van. The Montcliff Studio logo is on the passenger door.”

      She glanced back at Becca. “I will go outside to learn the purpose of his visit. Perhaps it is the man Caleb mentioned.”

      “Please, Hattie, don’t invite him in.”

      The older woman nodded, then reached for the doorknob and stepped onto the porch, leaving the door ajar.

      In spite of the cool air coming through the open doorway, Becca moved closer, hoping to overhear what was being said. Her pulse raced when she peered outside. A tall, muscular man stood by the van.

      The footfalls of the man who had chased after her last night played through her memory. From the sound of him stomping through the underbrush, he had to have been a big man, tall in stature and with a bulky build.

      Her gaze homed in on the Montcliff Studio logo on the side of the van. Apprehension zigzagged along her spine as she stared at the black-and-white graphic, longing to remember why it drew her attention.

      The man walked to the front of the van, closer to where Zeke stood.

      A lump jammed Becca’s throat as she saw the movie man’s long legs and thick build. Hands on his hips, he stared at the barn and then the outbuildings as if searching for something.

      Was he searching for her?

      Tears burned Becca’s eyes, but she forced them back. Why would an Englisch man from a movie studio be looking for her?

      He extended his hand to Zeke. “The name’s Larry Landers. I’m the location manager at Montcliff.”

      Zeke accepted his handshake without comment.

      “The movie studio,” Larry added as if for clarification. “As you probably know, we’ve been here for the last six months.”

      “I know about the studio, Mr. Landers,” Zeke said. “It is located higher up the mountain on Levi Gingerich’s land.”

      “That’s right. We’re almost finished with the production of our first film and hope to begin work on our next project in a few weeks. I’m looking for farmland on which to shoot a trailer and a few preliminary scenes, maybe as early as the end of the week.”

      “An Amish farm?” Zeke seemed perplexed by the statement.

      Landers chuckled, although the gruff sound was anything but humorous. “I mentioned shooting, but not with a weapon, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

      Raising his hand, palm out, Landers quickly added, “I know you folks are pacifists.”

      Becca heard disdain in the man’s voice.

      “What I meant,” Landers continued, “was shooting the film. And yes, we’re scheduled to shoot an Amish story and are looking for an Amish farm, otherwise we might have to use someplace in town.”

      He pulled a folder from the van and handed the packet to Zeke. “The studio will pay to use your property for a week or two, depending on the weather. We’ll need your authorization. Our landscape crew will arrive as soon as the contract is signed. Their job will be to enhance the property.”

      “The land is as Gott provided, Mr. Landers. It does not need to be enhanced.”

      “You’re right, of course. Be assured you’ll be compensated for your time and trouble.”

      Zeke glanced at the contract, then closed the folder and handed it back. “The farm belongs to my aunt. She is not interested in your contract.”

      “You didn’t read the offer.” Landers gazed at the barn and the pasture where the horses grazed. “You folks look like you could use some financial help. I can increase the payment by half to sweeten the deal.”

      “Sweet or sour, there is no deal, Mr. Landers.”

      “Look, I apologize if I’ve upset you. Perhaps if I talked to your aunt.”

      Noticing Hattie on the porch, he took a step forward. “Ma’am, if I could have a moment of your time.”

      “You would not hear anything different from her.” Zeke’s tone was firm.

      “What about some of your neighbors?” Landers asked.

      “You will find more farms in the valley. Some are owned and operated by Englisch farmers. Perhaps they would be willing to rent their land.”

      The guy shook his head with frustration. “You’re missing an excellent opportunity.”

      Again, he played his gaze over the barn, then turned and stared at the kitchen door for a long moment.

      Becca drew back, fearing he could see her. If so, would he recognize her?

      He hesitated


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