Taken for English (5 page)

Ruth shook off the brooding. What she wanted right now was fresh air and room to move. She wanted to be on the trail that the Amish and
English
had created together over the summer. But it was five miles away, behind the property line of her family’s home. Thus the car.

Just a few minutes later, she parked the Prius at the top of the trail, locked it, and dropped the key in a pocket of her scrubs. Pockets. Another convenience that did not seem the least bit detrimental. Ruth was not hiding anything, simply storing something valuable.

She took a deep breath and quickened her pace, craving the movement. In Colorado Springs, her work at the nursing home sent her up and down the halls, lifting and pushing and pulling for entire shifts. The clinic in Westcliffe simply was not large enough to be physically demanding, and this left Ruth seeking opportunities to move her entire body.

Ruth walked the trail from one end to the other, about a mile across land that began in meadow and ended in the woods behind the Beiler home. When the house came in view, Ruth turned around. Humming a tune from the
Ausbund
, she eyed the large, flat boulder at the edge of the meadow. She had climbed the footholds of that rock hundreds of time in an Amish dress. She could certainly manage it in scrubs and tennis shoes.

She stopped short when she saw a figure on the trail. He was between her and the rock, between her and the Prius. And he was looking at her.

“Ruth Beiler, right?”

The close-cropped blond hair and goatee looked familiar. “You’re the firefighter,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten whether you are Bryan or Alan. Yesterday you looked alike.”

“We get that a lot.” Bryan grinned. “I’ve known Alan a long time. People are never sure who is who.”

“Is everything all right?” Ruth glanced past him toward her car. “At the house, I mean. Where the fire was.”

“Funny you should ask.” Bryan moved to close the few yards between them. “As a matter of fact, someone violated the tape this morning.”

“Why would anybody do that?”

“Good question. There wasn’t much there to steal.” Bryan glanced at the boulder. “You ever climb that thing?”

Ruth laughed. “All the time.”

“I’ll race you up.”

She could not resist the dare in his green eyes and sprinted toward the rock. Running without a flapping skirt between her ankles was a rich sensation. She got there first and scrambled up the back side before Bryan found his first toehold. Triumphant, she hefted herself over the top—and found Elijah Capp flattened against the rough surface. At the sight of her, he sat up.

“I’m sorry.” Startled, she stumbled slightly. “I didn’t see you from down below.”

“Looks like you have a shadow.” Elijah straightened his hat on his head and tilted it toward Bryan.

Bryan put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I’ve never come up here before. The view is beautiful.”

“You must be new to Westcliffe.” Elijah stood now as well.

Ruth was starting to regret her outing.

“I’m Bryan Nichols.” He extended a hand, which Elijah shook.

“Elijah Capp.”

“Bryan and I met yesterday.” Ruth felt her back teeth start to grind. “He’s a firefighter.”

“Well then,” Elijah said, “I imagine he must be something else as well. Custer County firefighters are volunteer.”

Ruth’s teeth started to hurt.

“True enough,” Bryan said. “I’m a cashier at the grocery store, and I’m about to be late to work.”

“I suppose you’ll be going, then.” Elijah nodded.

“Yes, I suppose I will.” Bryan turned to Ruth. “It was good to run into you. I hope I’ll see you again.”

He squatted and began his descent. As he loped across the meadow, Ruth wondered where he had left his car. She turned to Elijah and forced her jaw to unclench.

“You were rude, Elijah.”

“What were you doing with him, Ruth? A man you only met yesterday?”

Ruth stared at Elijah. “I was not doing anything. Not that it is your business.”

“I feel toward you as I always have.” Elijah crossed his arms behind his back, his voice soft.

Ruth said nothing.

“You were laughing,” he said. “Happy.”

“I feel the joy of the Lord when I come here. You know that better than anyone.”

He stepped closer. “Ruth, is your heart open to someone else?”

Annie remembered the days—years—when she pulled on shorts and expensive tennis shoes and traversed the countryside in strides measured for endurance. In her ankle-length dress and with her hair carefully pinned up, these days she aimed for a brisk power walk. Clear mountain air was irresistible after six hours in a shop almost completely dependent on artificial light. Over recent weeks, Annie had tramped down a path several feet off the highway but running alongside it. She gave her
kapp
one last tug and began swinging her arms as her feet set their pace.

Coming out of the grocery store parking lot, where Main Street met the highway, Annie looked up just in time to lurch to one side out of the path of a white horse pulling an Amish buggy. The animal was not going fast, but he seemed confused. Behind him the buggy jostled and tilted in ways that made Annie nervous.

Doing what she had seen Rufus do so many times, she reached out and slid her fingers through the bridle, pulling to slow the horse’s random movement, and reached out to run her hand along his neck. A year ago Annie Friesen would not have known what a horse’s neck felt like.

“Whoa there,” she said. “What’s going on?”

She glanced inside the buggy and saw two little boys. Neither one of them looked older than ten.

“Who is driving your buggy?” Annie tried to place their faces. She thought she knew everyone in the congregation now, even the children, at least by sight. Except the Deitwallers. These could be Leah’s little brothers. They stared at her with huge guilty brown eyes.

“What have you boys done now?” An Amish couple strode across the parking lot with two girls in their wake toting plastic grocery sacks.

Yes, the Deitwallers.

“I’m not sure what happened,” Annie said, “but the boys seem to be fine.”

“Of course they’re fine.” Mrs. Deitwaller snapped her fingers and pointed. “Girls, get in.”

“What about Leah?” one of the girls asked.

“She knew she was supposed to be back here by now.” Eva Deitwaller hoisted herself up to the bench beside her husband, who had the reins in his hands now. “I’m tired of chasing after her.”

“Would you like me to help you look for Leah?” Annie offered.

“No need,” Leah’s mother said. “She wants to be treated like an adult. She can learn to show some adult responsibility the hard way.”

“Will she know how to get home?” Annie asked. “I understand you haven’t been here long.”

“Don’t worry about her. You’ll discover soon enough that Leah is a dramatic child. Don’t believe everything she says. I thought she would be better after we moved, but she’s not.” Eva met Annie’s eye for the first time. “I understand you live in town. That’s a strange thing for a baptized Amish woman to do.”

Annie held her lips closed. She was not about to explain her relationship with Rufus to a woman she had just met. Annie hoped her days of living in town were numbered, but she could not say so with certainty. Yet.

The Deitwallers pulled out onto the highway, leaving Annie befuddled in the parking lot. She was not a parent, and she had only had one brief conversation with Leah Deitwaller, but to her analytical mind, the data did not add up to the girl’s parents being so unconcerned about her welfare.

R
ufus sat on the wooden chair in the small office at the back of the Amish furniture store in Colorado Springs. Tom would soon be back from visiting his mother, and Rufus was not sure he would be able to hide the disappointment he felt from his friend during the seventy-five miles of highway between the Springs and Westcliffe.

“I’m sorry, Rufus. I wish the news were better.” David, the store owner, rolled his pen between his palms. “I’m going to try some new advertising, but right now sales are slumping. I don’t have any custom orders for you.”

Rufus gave a small shrug. “Usually you like to have some pieces on the floor to stay ahead of demand.”

“I know. But I still have two chests, three end tables, and a bookcase from you.”

“I see.” Rufus’s stomach sank.

“You know I think you do beautiful work,” David said. “I just cannot afford to buy anything right now.”

Rufus stood. “I hope you will let me know if business picks up.”

“You will be the first to know.” David scratched under his nose. “If you wanted to make a few pieces to sell strictly on commission, I could make room on the floor.”

Commission. Meaning David would pay Rufus nothing unless and until a piece sold. If David’s assessment was accurate, that could take months. “I’ll give that some thought.”

Rufus walked through the store and out into the sunlight to wait for Tom. When Tom pulled up a few minutes later and Rufus got in the truck, Tom leaned on the steering wheel and looked expectant.

“What’s wrong?”

Rufus shook his head. “No new orders. He doesn’t know how long it will be.”

“You were selling quite a bit over the summer, weren’t you?” Tom pulled the truck out of the parking lot and onto a major north–south thoroughfare through Colorado Springs heading south.

“David has given me steady work for nearly a year. It could not last forever.”

“Surely it’s not over. Just a lull?”

“I hope so.” Rufus removed his hat and laid his head back against the headrest.

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Tom said. “Maybe I’ll hear of something.”

“I’d appreciate that. In the meantime, I’ve got to wipe this gloom off my face. If you knew something was wrong, Annalise is certain to.”

Rufus reined in Dolly in front of Annalise’s house. The narrow green house showed its century-old age, but at least Annalise had let him pour her a new sidewalk. He no longer worried about her falling on winter ice every time he saw the walk.

She had not spoken the words aloud, even as he spent an entire Saturday repairing the concrete, but he knew she hoped she would not be in this house for another winter. Annalise wanted to be with Rufus before winter turned fierce. Every time he thought about that truth, pain clenched his chest.

He wanted Annalise. That was not the trouble. But the questions were not so easily answered.

Annalise did not have a proper post for tying up a horse, but Rufus had long ago stopped fretting about leaving Dolly untied in front of the house. She would be content to nuzzle the ground whether or not she found anything to munch on. Besides, Rufus was only going as far as the front door. He was there to pick up Annalise and take her to the Beiler home for supper.

She opened the front door with a vivid smile even before he knocked. That happened often. Her ears were programmed to hear Dolly’s
clip-clop
half a mile away, Annalise claimed. In Rufus’s vocabulary,
program
was not a verb. The Amish did not program anything. But Annalise had spent too many years designing software not to think in the vocabulary of her former business success.

“Ready?” Rufus met her gray eyes and drank in the welcome he saw there.

She pulled the front door closed behind her. “I’d like to make a detour if you’re agreeable.”

“Of course. Where to?”

She spread her arms wide. “Anywhere. I want you to teach me to drive a buggy.”

One corner of Rufus’s mouth went up.

“You know I’m ready. I’ve watched you with the bridle and harness a hundred times. I’ve listened to the noises you make and how Dolly responds. I know how it works.”

Rufus’s mother and all of his sisters had learned to drive the buggy. Most Amish women did. Annalise’s request was not outlandish.

“You are suggesting that we begin now?” he said.

“Why not? We have time, don’t we? I won’t ask you to take me on the highway in the first lesson. We can stay on the streets here in town where Dolly won’t be tempted to go too fast. And you’ll be right there.”