Amish Fugitive
Author
Shelley Shepard Gray
Reads
18.6K
Chapters
27
Chapter One
Daniel Darrel Miller had stayed at the luncheon as long as heād dared. Against his brother Abramās wishes, heād attended the church service at the Zooksā house. It wasnāt like heād had much choice. If he hadnāt gone, everyone would say that he was just as bad as theyād thought he was.
He couldnāt afford to make things worse for himself than they already were. Within the first ten minutes, however, heād regretted his decision.
Though no one had attempted to make him leave, it was more than obvious that he wasnāt welcome. Even Abram and his wife, Sylvia, had kept their distance, as if theyād needed to prove to everyone in their church district that, while they were good enough to give him shelter, they didnāt much want to have anything to do with Abramās younger brother.
Making things worse, Abram had cast several dark looks in his direction when the three-hour Sunday service was over. It was clear he wanted Daniel to leave.
That stung, though Daniel reckoned he shouldnāt be asking for more than Abram had already given him. With their parents gone to Heaven and their sister Violet in Indiana, his brother hadnāt had much choice about what to say when both a lawyer and Daniel himself had called to ask if he could stay with them for a spell. Just until Daniel got back on his feet.
Unfortunately, it was very apparent that Abram and Sylvia were counting the hours until Daniel walked back out of their lives. If their situations were reversed, he might even feel the same way.
Deciding that there was only so much a man could do to repair damage that had taken years to develop, Daniel knew it was time to go. The moment he finished the sandwich, potato salad and apple that had been provided, he got to his feet, carefully set his plate and fork in the dish tub provided and forced himself to go over to where Isaac Zook was sitting. The man was with Bishop Joe Schlabach and Elam Borntrager. The three of them were in deep conversation, and common courtesy demanded that he wait until they were finished before he approached. Five minutes turned to ten and then fifteen. More and more people cast sideways looks in his direction. He could practically feel their disdain for him grow.
He really wished he could leave.
Unfortunately, common courtesy also demanded that Daniel thank the host of Sundayās service before he left. Even though he felt as if every single person in the vicinity was looking at him in disapproval, he moved near the trio.
When he came to a stop in front of them, all three men grew silent.
āJah?ā Isaac said after a secondās pause.
Daniel glanced at the bishop. Drawing strength from the kind manās encouraging expression, he cleared his throat. āIām sorry to interrupt your conversation, Isaac. I only wanted to thank you for your hospitality.ā
Instead of thawing, the man looked even more ill at ease. āThereās no need for you to thank me. Iām only doing what is expected. Each of us must host services twice a year.ā
Heād been put in his place. Trying to think of an appropriate response, Daniel stuffed his hands in his pockets. āYes. Well...ā His voice drifted off as his mind went blank. What in the world was the appropriate response, anyway?
When the strained silence lingered, Isaac turned away. Elam Borntrager, on the other hand, continued to stare at him as if he was an unwanted rodent in their midst.
The rejection hurt, but it was no less than he expected. Furthermore, it wasnāt as if Daniel could blame him. It was because of Daniel that Elam had lost his nephew.
Taking comfort in the fact that heād mastered a carefully blank expression, he stepped back. Obviously there was nothing more to say.
Just as Daniel turned to go, the bishop spoke.
āDid you enjoy the service, Daniel?ā
āI did.ā Well, he had as much as it had been possible. The morningās service had included Bishop Joe and Preacher Josiah reading several verses from Deuteronomy. Each verse had cautioned each person to be obedient to the Lord.
It had been a harsh set of sermons to listen to, especially since he had felt as if half the congregation was glaring at him the entire time.
Bishop Joe smiled slightly. āWalk in peace, Daniel.ā
āDanke. You, as well.ā
Relieved that both the service and his duty were over, Daniel turned and walked past the rest of the tables. And the group of women sipping coffee and gossiping next to the tray of cookies. And the batch of preschoolers chasing each other, each one laughing with greater exuberance than the last.
Only when he reached the end of the drive did he feel like he could breathe freely again. Realizing that he was covered in a fine sheen of sweatāsomething that hadnāt happened since his first few months in prisonāhe paused to inhale deeply.
āAre you all right?ā
Startled, he turned on his heel. There, standing off to the side of the driveway, partly hidden by the Zooksā mailbox, was Lela Borntrager.
Lela was studying him with a look of concern. After meeting her gaze, his mind went blank. Theyād crossed paths just a few days after he was released from prison. Heād gone to the farmers market and had practically knocked Lela over when heād turned a corner too quickly.
Unfortunately, heād then managed to make things worse, since heād been afraid to reach out to steady her balance but also afraid to simply stand and watch her stumble. Heād eventually grabbed her elbow. The assistance had been a few seconds too late but had helped Lela regain her footing.
Then sheād thanked him.
Heād been so struck by her sweetness, heād continued to grasp her arm. After another five seconds passed, heād jerked his hand away like his fingers were on fire.
When he dropped his hand, sheād smiled. That smile had been so pretty, heād felt his whole being settle into place.
After that moment, heād somehow kept seeing Lela around town. Every time, sheād made him feel flustered. He couldnāt seem to help the way his heart responded whenever he came within three feet of her. Lela was lovely and kind, and that sweetness drew him in like a bee to honey.
Today was no different.
Embarrassed by his reaction, he looked down at his feet.
But instead of finding fault with that, she stepped closer. āDaniel, are you having trouble breathing? Do you need a cup of water?ā
Her voice was like fairy dust. Or like spun sugar. Or anything else that was too fanciful to be real and too hard to ever hope to obtain. āNee,ā he said at last. His mouth went dry. Had his voice just squeaked?
Confusion filled her brown eyes. āNo, you arenāt having trouble breathing, or no, you donāt need a cup of water?ā
āNo to both.ā Realizing that he sounded rude even to his own ears, he cleared his throat. āI mean, nee, but danke. I am fine.ā
To his surprise, Lela looked disappointed. āOh. Well, I am glad about that.ā
When she didnāt move away, he told himself to turn and start walking. But for some reason, he simply couldnāt do it. It had been a really long time since heād received so much kindness.
Of course, on its heels was another bout of worry and self-loathing. She shouldnāt be around him, let alone sharing a private conversation. People would talk. After one second turned into two, then three, he said, āWhat are you doing out here, Lela?ā
She lifted her chin. āWhy shouldnāt I be here?ā
āBecause everyone else is gathered together on the Zooksā lawn. Donāt you want to be with the rest of the group?ā
āNot especially.ā A hint of a smile lit up her face. āMei parents like to stay as long as possible after the luncheons. Iām always ready to relax at home, though. Itās the Lordās day, aināt so?ā
He nodded. Lela wasnāt wrong. Sundays were a day of rest. At least, they should be, he supposed. Of course, when he got home, he would clean the house for a while. Then he would likely go to the dawdi haus and clean that, too. It was not only expected, it was the least he could do. He owed his brother for taking him in.
Lela shifted. Folded her arms across her chest. āYou sure donāt say too much, Daniel. Have you always been that way? Or did you learn to be quiet in prison?ā
Tossing out his resolve to remain carefully stoic and distant whenever she was near, Daniel gaped. āI canāt believe you said that.ā
A line formed between her brows. āIām sorry. Would you feel better if no one ever mentioned your time in Mansfield? If so, I wonāt bring it up again.ā
Now he just felt foolish. As if never speaking about his past was going to somehow make it go away. āI didnāt say you shouldnāt mention prison. I was just surprised.ā When she simply stared at him, he added, āIt donāt really make a difference to me one way or the other.ā
āNo?ā
āItās where I was, whether folks mention it or not.ā
Lela seemed to think about that for a moment before replying. āThatās how the past is, donāt you think?ā she mused. āNo matter how hard one might try to paint it a different color, itās always with us.ā
āI reckon so.ā Looking over at the gathering, Daniel saw that more than one man and woman had noticed them standing together. One pair of women were staring at Lela curiously. He was damaging her reputation.
āYou need to walk away from me right now.ā
āI think not.ā
He tried again. āPeople are going to talk.ā
Lela shrugged. āPeople talk no matter what. Iām used to it, anyway.ā
The young womanālikely barely twentyāwas beautiful. She had on a pale blue dress, her kapp covered shiny brown hair, and her cheeks were plump and pleasing. Added to that, she was proper and sweet. Her dark brown eyes also seemed to see more than most anyone else.
Unable to help himself, he asked, āWhy would you be used to people talking about you?ā
āBecause of my cousin, of course.ā
He still wasnāt following. āIām sorry?ā
āYou know who he is, right? My cousin was Brandt Showalter. Heās the boy everyone said you killed.ā
Though what she said was correct, the bold statement still stung. He took a step backward. āNot everyone says that. I was acquitted.ā
Looking pained, she reached out and clasped his hand. āI know you were. Please forgive me. I didnāt mean to sound as if I didnāt know that. I... I get tired of everyone talking in circles and half-truths so I sometimes speak a bit too freely at times.ā
He stared at their hands. Her skin was soft and smooth. And cool. She wasnāt gripping him. No, it was more like she sought to give comfort.
Goosebumps appeared on his arm. Daniel could almost feel his pulse quicken, too. All from just one innocent touch. He was embarrassed by his reaction, but he supposed he shouldnāt have been. After all, this was the first time a woman had touched him in years.
āLela?ā Charity Borntragerās voice was clear and piercing. āLela, what in the world are you doing?ā
Looking stricken, Lela dropped her hand. āMy mamm is heading our way. Iām so sorry, Daniel. Iāve got to go.ā
āI know you do.ā
He might be an innocent man whoād been framed for another manās murder. He might be attempting to reinvent himself and be seeking respect from his peers, but in the end, Lela was right. His past was always going to be with him.
Even if he hadnāt shot the gun that had killed Brandt, heād held it. And while Brandt had wanted to try new things during his rumspringa, he wouldnāt have gone to the party if Daniel hadnāt taken him. Heād even allowed Wyatt Troyer to speak to Brandt privately when he knew that was a dangerous thing to do.
So, yes. Yes, Lela really did need to stay far away from him. His reputation was too bad. Heād done too many thingsāboth in prison and outāto deserve her sympathy.
When Lela remained where she was, still gazing at him like an avenging angel, Daniel knew what he had to do.
Without another word, he turned down the main road and started walking as fast as he dared. He needed to put as much distance between himself and Lela Borntrager as possible. Not just because of who she was and her relation to Brandt.
But because of the man he was now. In most ways, he simply wasnāt fit for company.