River of Mercy, page 26
In a spurt of raw frustration, he brought his fist down on the table with a growl of disgust. From his place by the door, Mac roused and shot him a cranky look.
“Right,” he muttered. “Now you want to sleep. Too bad. You had your chance last night.”
By the time Gideon came back from deliveries midafternoon, Gant was walking the floor more than working. He felt like a caged lion with a sore foot. But over the past few hours a growing urgency had nagged at him until he sensed he had no choice but to give in to it.
He motioned Gideon over as soon as the boy came through the back door.
“You have any plans for tonight?” he asked.
Gideon shook his head. “No. Why?”
“I could use your help.”
“Sure, Captain. What do you need?”
“Two good legs, but you can’t do anything about that. So how about going with me to keep watch out at Rachel’s for a while tonight?”
The boy frowned. “Keep watch?”
Gant tried to explain how he’d been feeling since learning that Rachel was back home. He didn’t like being that open with the boy or anyone else about his emotions, especially when it involved asking for help. But pride allegedly went before a fall, and in his case that could probably be taken as a literal truth.
Gideon’s reply surprised him. “To tell you the truth, Captain, I’ve been kind of uneasy about things myself.”
Gant looked at him. “You have?”
The other nodded. “Well, we’ve still got a troublemaker out there somewhere, maybe more than one, and if you think about it, my family seems to have been the target for a lot of his orneriness. If I had my way, Rachel wouldn’t be staying alone out there right now, so close to the woods and all.”
Learning that Rachel’s brother shared his apprehension cinched Gant’s decision to do something about his increasing uneasiness.
By dusk they were on the road in Gant’s buggy, buttoned down as snug as possible.
“This is quite a buggy, Captain. I expect you did most of the extras on it yourself. That so?”
Gant nodded. “I did a lot of it, except the frame, of course. I’d have to say I wouldn’t want a future as a buggy builder.”
“Those leather flaps may come in real handy tonight while we’re sitting out in the cold. And that seat in the back works real good for Mac.”
The dog chuffed his agreement.
“I appreciate your coming along with me, by the way,” Gant told him.
“Well, Rachel is my sister, after all. Why wouldn’t I come with you?” They rode in silence for a time before Gideon asked, “Do you have any idea who might be behind all the trouble, Captain?”
Gant shook his head. “I wish I did. What about you?”
Gideon didn’t answer right away. Then, “Ever consider that it might be Samuel Beiler?”
Gant looked over at him. “You suspect him?”
“I don’t know. Just wondering, that’s all. If it was him, and he’s really gone to stay, then maybe there won’t be any more problems.”
“That’d be good,” said Gant.
“But you don’t think so?”
“I don’t know what to think. I just know that whoever is behind all the trouble belongs in jail. And I’d like to see him there.”
Gideon nodded. “So would I. The sooner the better.”
It turned out to be a thoroughly miserable night, with rain splattering the roof of the buggy and a thin but cold wind rushing through the trees. Even though Gant was considerably older than the boy next to him, he wagered Gideon was just as uncomfortable as he was. Even Mac had taken to whimpering now and then as if to remind them that he was a bit put out with their present situation too.
They spent the next three nights in the same spot in the same kind of weather, huddled under the warmest blankets they could find. And saw nothing—including Rachel. They never caught so much as a glimpse of her, nothing but the faint golden glow of lamplight filtering from her windows.
For once Gant was relieved not to see her. It meant she was staying safely indoors.
Their second night there, he heard a sound that caught him up short. A screech, echoing through the darkness, not all that far away. A bobcat. But it couldn’t be his bobcat. Not all the way out here. And yet he had heard it once before, or at least he’d thought he heard it. The night he sat in this same spot, keeping watch after Rachel’s break-in. That night, too, he couldn’t believe his ears, and yet he’d been almost certain.
“You hear that?” Gideon whispered.
Gant nodded.
“That’s a bobcat, isn’t it?”
“Sounds like one.”
“You don’t think that’s the one that’s been hanging around town, do you?”
“Doesn’t seem likely,” Gant said. “They like to prowl, but I doubt he’d wander out this far.”
Or would he?
On their third night—actually, it was past two in the morning—they decided to go back into town a little earlier than before. Gant’s leg was one large throbbing pain, thanks to the weather and sitting hunched up in the same position for so long a time. Then too, Gideon seemed to be coming down with a cold and was feeling pretty rough himself.
Gant had begun to feel hopeful that their troublemaker had been Samuel Beiler, having seen nothing out of the ordinary the past two nights. Maybe things would now settle down in Beiler’s absence.
He was just pushing the blanket away to reach for the reins when Gideon put a hand to his arm. “Captain—”
Gant turned to look at him, but Gideon had leaned forward and was staring at Rachel’s house, at this time of night a lightless, indistinct shell.
“Look,” Gideon whispered. “See that?”
Gant saw it, all right. A faint light, flickering in the darkness, illumining a figure with a lantern. Someone was headed for the back of the house.
At the same time, somewhere on the hill a bobcat cried again.
Something awakened Rachel. She sat upright, not as if she’d been dragged out of a drowsy, confused deep sleep, but instead suddenly wide awake, listening.
To what?
She heard nothing, yet her heart raced, and her blood pounded as though something had set her spinning into a panic.
She waited another minute or so, but when she still heard nothing, instead of lying back down, she got up, shrugged into her robe, and crossed to the window. It was totally dark with rain pattering on the roof and splashing against the window.
Seeing nothing, she started to turn away but then stopped.
Was that a light moving toward the house?
She waited…and saw it again. It flickered, wavered, and then disappeared.
But no, there it was again. Moving toward the back of the house.
Frozen in place, she clutched at her throat and made a small moaning sound.
What to do? Should she cry out, try to frighten them away? Or hide? That was it. She would hide. But where?
She glanced around. There was nowhere to hide in the bedroom.
Where, then?
No. With all the strength she could muster, she forced herself to shake off the fear. This was her house. Her home. She wouldn’t be frightened into crawling under a bed or creeping into a clothes closet. She would find some other way out of this.
She looked around the room, her eyes going to the lamp on the bedside table. Maybe if whoever was out there saw light in the house they’d know she was awake, watching, and they’d go away.
Her hands shook wildly, but she finally got the lamp lighted and set it closer to the window, where it could be seen from outside.
She thought of the kitchen drawer where she kept the knives. But no, she’d never be able to use a knife on someone—the very thought made her cringe. Besides, a knife could just as easily be turned on her.
But there was the mallet for pounding meat. And the rolling pin.
She pulled her robe tighter and started for the kitchen. To find a weapon…and wait.
An icy chill coiled all the way down Gant’s spine as he watched the light weaving its way from the trees to the house.
“We need to move,” he said, his words a harsh whisper as he tossed the blanket away. Cautiously, he unhooked the lantern from the side of the buggy and lighted it, shading it as best he could with one hand and then giving it to Gideon while he reached for his cane.
Gideon jumped from the buggy, stopping to wait for Gant. Mac stood in the back, stiff legged, on alert with a menacing, low growl.
Gant waved both of them on. “Go! I’ll be right behind you! Mac—forward!”
With that, Mac cleared the buggy with one leap, taking off ahead of Gideon, both of them crashing through the grove and onto the road.
Gant wouldn’t have thought he could take the mud-slicked road as fast as he did, and he did stumble a couple of times, almost falling. But he righted himself and kept going, following the trail of light from Gideon and the lantern.
He looked up and saw a faint light seeping through an upstairs window—a light that hadn’t been there a moment before. He remembered the night he’d searched the house, after the break-in. The light was coming from Rachel’s bedroom.
So she was awake. Was she aware that someone was just outside the house?
Rachel tiptoed into the kitchen, the plank floor cold on her bare feet. She went to the cabinet and opened the drawer where she stored most of her larger utensils, rifling through it in the darkness with trembling hands. She found the mallet, her hand lingering on it for a moment. Then, with a ragged breath she lifted it from the drawer, ran her hand over it, and put it back.
Everything in her, everything she’d been taught, believed, and grown up with screamed deep inside her that she could not, must not resort to violence, even if she were physically capable of defending herself.
“He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust…”
After a moment she stepped quietly into the shadows and waited.
Gant pushed himself to move faster, finally catching up with Gideon, where he was waiting for him at the side of the house. Mac, restrained by Gideon’s hand on his head, stood watching Gant expectantly, clearly waiting for a command.
With one hand behind him, palm outward to caution the dog from charging ahead, Gant, followed by Gideon and Mac, now moved slowly and as quietly as possible toward the back of the house.
They were halfway there when they heard a blood-chilling screech from the hill close behind the house. Gideon lunged on ahead, dangling the lantern close in front of him while Gant followed, with Mac overtaking him as he pushed ahead.
They reached the back porch and stopped dead.
A snarling Mac, on his hind legs and stretched to his full length, had pinned a man to the porch wall. The kitchen door stood open, revealing nothing but darkness.
Gant glanced to his right at the hill behind the house, where a hissing, growling bobcat—Jake—stood poised halfway down as if about to leap, at the same time eyeing Mac and his captive.
Gideon scanned the entire scene, including the hill where the bobcat waited. Gant held his breath, locking gazes with the wintry-eyed bobcat before stepping onto the porch.
Gideon lifted the lantern higher, trapping Mac’s prey in the flickering light. “Aaron?”
A white-faced Aaron Beiler stood trembling, his eyes glazed with what looked to be rage and something akin to terror. One hand still held a lantern. On the floor of the porch, where he had dropped it or thrown it, lay a dangerous-looking iron pipe.
Gant ordered Mac to release and then to stay. The big dog dropped to all fours but moved little more than an inch away from the boy he’d held captive until a few seconds ago. The dog stood panting, teeth still bared, a threatening stare solidly fixed on Samuel Beiler’s eldest son.
At that moment, Rachel appeared in the open doorway. She wore a stunned but defiant expression. With her left hand, she clutched her robe tightly around her. “What—Gideon? Jeremiah? What are you doing here?”
Her gaze went to Aaron Beiler and to Mac and then cut to the bobcat. She was pale and visibly shaken. Yet, all things considered, Gant thought she appeared remarkably steady.
In that instant, Aaron Beiler made a move as if to run, but Mac stopped him dead by blocking him with his heavily muscled body and a fierce warning snarl. The boy shrank back.
“Gideon,” Gant said quietly, “take the buggy and go fetch Carl Nielson. We need the law out here. Mac and I will stay with your sister and make sure Aaron doesn’t go anywhere.” He paused. “Maybe when you get back with Carl, Aaron would like to explain what he’s doing here.” He glanced at the iron pipe and motioned to it. “With a weapon.”
That said, he put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder, waiting for Mac to herd Aaron Beiler inside before moving to follow them.
They stopped when the bobcat uttered one final cry—a growl of dismissal, Gant thought. He watched as the creature turned his back on them all and took the hill in broad leaps, stopping when he reached the crest only long enough to cast an impatient look down on them.
Then he was gone, leaving Gant to strengthen his grip on Rachel’s shoulder as he led her indoors.
46
RACHEL’S ANSWER
My beloved is mine, and I am his.
SONG OF SOLOMON 2:16
Three weeks later, Susan and David Sebastian invited Gant and Gideon to a “very special late supper,” which they planned to host on Sunday. It was their way, Doc explained when he stopped in town to invite Gant, of sharing their thankfulness and appreciation to him for helping to keep Rachel safe.
Gant wasn’t concerned about their showing appreciation for anything he’d done—they had already expressed that to him many times over. The only thing he was interested in was whether Rachel would be there.
As it turned out, she was.
Susan, in her usual style, had prepared a feast.
The woman was a wonder in the kitchen. Gant declared himself to be “royally stuffed” as he finished off his last bite of apple pie. “I’ll probably topple over and cave in your mother’s floor when I get up from the table,” he told Fannie, who was seated next to him and, as always, found him highly amusing.
Indeed, the gathering did turn out to be very special, and for more than one reason. A few days earlier, Gideon had announced his intention to return to the community and make his vows. He would again be living Amish. Susan was fairly beaming throughout the evening.
Gideon had told Gant of his plans two days earlier, at which time he expressed his concern about keeping his job. Gant had quickly assured him that for his part, he would definitely hope to keep him on. It all depended, of course, on what the new bishop decided about the situation, but the fact that Samuel Beiler was no longer their bishop boosted Gideon’s hopes considerably.
Gant had noticed another area in which Gideon seemed to be hopeful. Without referring to Emma Knepp by name, Gant had offhandedly inquired as to whether Gideon had any other news, given the fact that he would be living Amish again. The boy had merely grinned and granted that indeed he might, in the near future, have more news.
Good for him.
There was some conversation, as might have been expected, about Aaron Beiler. The young troublemaker was now in jail and awaiting trial, not only for the havoc he had wreaked upon the community for more than a year but also for what the boy claimed to be the accidental death of Phoebe Esch.
“It will be up to his lawyer to prove Phoebe’s death was truly an accident, of course,” Doc pointed out while they were still at the table. “But I tend to believe the boy on that score. I think it likely that what began mostly as mischief, probably as an attempt to frighten Phoebe—and thereby unnerve the rest of us—took a tragic turn. My opinion is still that Phoebe died of a sudden heart attack.”
“But he’ll still have to pay, won’t he?” Gideon asked.
“Certainly he will,” Doc agreed. “And for all the rest of his bad doings as well. Aaron insists he was only trying to get rid of…”
He paused and stole a glance at Gant, who nodded, saying, “I know what the boy was up to, Doc. He’s already confessed part of it to Carl Nielson. He thought he could run me off, and then Rachel would turn to his father. In fact, according to Carl, just about everything the boy did was provoked by his desire to make things better for Samuel—and thereby make things easier for himself and his brothers.”
“What kind of twisted thinking is that?” said Gideon.
Gant shrugged. “It seems twisted to us, but it sounds as if most times when Samuel didn’t get his way or lost his temper about something, he took it out on one of his boys. The fact that Rachel continually refused to marry him apparently made him a little crazy. The latest confrontation with her must have really set him off. Lately he’d been going after the youngest lad with a vengeance.”
“Well, I suppose it remains to be seen whether he meant any real harm to Phoebe,” Gideon said, “but I for one don’t believe this last stunt of his was any kind of an accident. He hasn’t admitted it—Carl said he won’t talk about it yet—but that iron pipe he was carrying around could have been deadly.”
Gant looked at Rachel, concerned about the effect Gideon’s remarks might have on her, but she seemed quietly composed. She even added a comment of her own. “He might have meant to use it only to break in, Gideon,” she said softly.
“And then what?” he shot back. “Come on, Rachel, you know he had it in for you because of his dat. He had more in mind than breaking into your house this time.”
“Even so, I can’t help but feel sorry for those boys,” Rachel said, her voice still low.
Gant marveled at the fact that she didn’t even seem angry.
“Aaron must have had a miserable life,” she continued. “Apparently, all of them have grown up troubled and mistreated.”
“Don’t feel too sorry for Aaron,” Gideon put in. “He intended to hurt you that night, Rachel. He was after revenge. Aaron thinks you ruined Samuel’s life, and therefore you wrecked his as well. He’s as off in the head as his dat.”
