“You belong with me.” His hands came down with a possessive grip on her shoulders.
Big hands, softer than Datt’s. As a sheriff’s deputy and a detective, Reece didn’t chop wood or handle a saw like the men in her community. He smelled good too. No odor of perspiration, just the spicy fragrance of oriental woods. She’d spent a whole afternoon at the department store last week, trying to identify what he wore, before deciding it was a fragrance called Contradiction.
And that pretty much summed up how he made her feel.
She dared a glance at his face and smiled back. “I can’t stay long. Someone is at home buying Mamm’s quilts. They’ll miss me in a few minutes.”
He pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “What are we going to do, honey?” he whispered against her hair.
“Come to meeting with me this Sunday,” she said. “It’s at our house. Visitors are welcome.”
He smiled. “Trying to convert me?”
“It would solve a lot of problems,” she admitted. While it was unusual for an Englischer to convert to the Amish faith, it had happened. Her own mother had walked such a path. And it would keep Hannah from having to make an impossible choice between her family and the man she was falling in love with.
He tugged her toward the shadows. “Come sit in the truck with me.” He took her hand and led her to his pickup, a black Dodge he’d bought just last week. He opened the door for her, and she slipped inside. It still smelled new, and her cotton dress slid across the leather seats. She ran her palm across the supple leather. So beautiful.
Reece got in on the other side and drove under a walnut tree, where he parked. He clicked on the auxiliary power. Music spilled from the radio, his favorite, Creedence Clearwater Revival. “Bad Moon Rising” blared from the speakers behind her. He slid out from under the steering wheel and pulled her into his arms. His lips came down on hers. She wanted to savor the sensation of his strong arms, let the music blot out her misgivings. Noah had never even embraced her. It wasn’t allowed. This was wrong, too, but in this moment, she didn’t care. All she knew was the touch of Reece’s hands and the scent of the mint on his breath. She relished the mastery of his hands on her.
Reece lifted his head, and his breath whispered across her face. “You know how I feel about you. Marry me, Hannah. We can leave right now. I’ll take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about anything. You’re mine—you know you are.”
The bright joy beating against her ribs exploded into panic. She put her palms on his chest and pushed. “The bishop would put me under the Meidung.” Why couldn’t she have met Reece three months ago, before she was baptized? But even then she would have been faced with an impossible choice. She slid away to brace her back against the door, but still she couldn’t bring herself to open it and walk away from him.
She was weak, so weak.
The thought of leaving her family made her lungs ache. Being Amish was as much a part of her body as the bone and sinew that kept her upright. Her life was about laughing and talking around the dinner table with loved ones, working side by side with her mamm. She’d never expected to find herself in this place, loving one of the Englisch when she was engaged to one of her own people.
“You could convert,” she whispered.
“I’d have to give up my job, my life. I can’t do it, Hannah. I wish I could. But I’ll take care of you. There’s a world out there you know nothing about. An exciting world of new experiences.”
He was right. The Amish faith forbade military service or a job in law enforcement. If she went with him, she would have to give up everything. If he came with her, he’d be in the same position. It was an impossible situation. Oh, but she wanted to be with him! His power and strength made her feel safe when her world seemed filled with uncertainty. He knew so much—all about the world she’d seen only glimpses of.
The day after he’d saved her from some neighborhood bullies, he’d come into the café where she worked and ordered coffee at one of her tables. She’d been drawn to him from the first. She watched the way the other deputies deferred to him. And every minute she was conscious of his eyes watching her.
She shivered. Noah would be so hurt if he saw her in Reece’s arms. She should have been stronger.
“Hannah?” Reece reached his hand toward her. “Come back over here, honey. It’s okay. I won’t push you. I just want to take care of you.”
God would punish her if she accepted the invitation in his voice.
From somewhere, she found the courage to grab the door handle and yank it open. She found the motivation to turn and run toward home. Reece called after her, but she didn’t slow. The Bible said to flee temptation. The cool wind brushed against her face and shivered down her back. It slowed the blood pounding along her veins, throbbing in her head. Her feet grew lighter as she sped from the bridge toward home. Harsh breaths heaved in and out of her chest.
Scalding shame swept through her veins. What had she become? Could this relationship be good if it caused her to sin so grievously against her parents, against Noah?
Her soles slid over gravel, and she stumbled, nearly went down on one knee. Daring a glance behind, she saw that Reece hadn’t followed. She stood and hurried on, stopping on the road to catch her breath. Up ahead, the gaslights glowed yellow through the window. She hoped her parents thought she was still in the barn.
Composing her features, she stumbled toward the house, though she doubted serenity would do her much good. Mamm would take one look at her face and see the guilt etched there. Her mother could almost read her mind. Mamm knew what it was like to struggle against the strictures of their faith. Maybe Hannah could talk to her. Mamm would understand. She’d tell Hannah how to deal with these emotions.
The thought of leaving her Amish faith left a hollow sensation in Hannah’s soul. She’d been taught—and believed—that they’d found the true path to God.
The house was quiet when she opened the back door. Where were her parents? She walked past the wringer washing machine in the utility room and stepped into the kitchen. The empty lemonade packets she’d left by the sink still lay there. Her mother had promised to clean up while Hannah did the barn chores.
“Mamm?” Hannah called. Only silence answered her.
Her feet stuck to spilled lemonade on the floor. Her mother never would have left the kitchen in such a state. Had someone taken ill? Alarms began blaring inside her head, and she quickened her pace to rush into the living room, still calling for her mother.
Her eyes fixed on a bumpy quilt hugging the middle of the living room floor and, oddly, a jumble of feet poked out from under it. Her mind fought to sort what her eyes saw. A quilt she’d never seen lay on the floor, black but bright with her mother’s trademark hummingbird pattern. Datt’s size 13 black shoes extended from one side of the quilt, while Mamm’s size 5 shoes peeked out on the other side.
“Mamm?” she asked. Could this be a joke? Her father loved to tease. They’d hop up any minute, laughing at her gullibility.
No one moved. She bent down and touched her mother’s exposed leg. It was cool. Hannah scrabbled back on her haunches. A scream built behind her teeth, then blared out with such force that her throat went raw. She couldn’t stop screeching. The room began to swirl as she rolled onto her stomach and began to crawl. A red symbol had been painted on the wall. The wheel-and- spokes pattern imprinted itself on the backs of her eyes. A strange word was written just below it. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and she choked it back before stumbling out the door. She had to get to the greenhouse.