Amish Fugitive
Autore
Shelley Shepard Gray
Letto da
18,6K
Capitoli
27
Chapter One
Daniel Darrel Miller had stayed at the luncheon as long as heâd dared. Against his brother Abramâs wishes, heâd attended the church service at the Zooksâ house. It wasnât like heâd had much choice. If he hadnât gone, everyone would say that he was just as bad as theyâd thought he was.
He couldnât afford to make things worse for himself than they already were. Within the first ten minutes, however, heâd regretted his decision.
Though no one had attempted to make him leave, it was more than obvious that he wasnât welcome. Even Abram and his wife, Sylvia, had kept their distance, as if theyâd needed to prove to everyone in their church district that, while they were good enough to give him shelter, they didnât much want to have anything to do with Abramâs 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 shouldnât be asking for more than Abram had already given him. With their parents gone to Heaven and their sister Violet in Indiana, his brother hadnât 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 Sundayâs 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.
âJah?â Isaac said after a secondâs pause.
Daniel glanced at the bishop. Drawing strength from the kind manâs encouraging expression, he cleared his throat. âIâm sorry to interrupt your conversation, Isaac. I only wanted to thank you for your hospitality.â
Instead of thawing, the man looked even more ill at ease. âThereâs no need for you to thank me. Iâm only doing what is expected. Each of us must host services twice a year.â
Heâd been put in his place. Trying to think of an appropriate response, Daniel stuffed his hands in his pockets. âYes. Well...â 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 wasnât as if Daniel could blame him. It was because of Daniel that Elam had lost his nephew.
Taking comfort in the fact that heâd mastered a carefully blank expression, he stepped back. Obviously there was nothing more to say.
Just as Daniel turned to go, the bishop spoke.
âDid you enjoy the service, Daniel?â
âI did.â Well, he had as much as it had been possible. The morningâs 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. âWalk in peace, Daniel.â
âDanke. You, as well.â
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 sweatâsomething that hadnât happened since his first few months in prisonâhe paused to inhale deeply.
âAre you all right?â
Startled, he turned on his heel. There, standing off to the side of the driveway, partly hidden by the Zooksâ mailbox, was Lela Borntrager.
Lela was studying him with a look of concern. After meeting her gaze, his mind went blank. Theyâd crossed paths just a few days after he was released from prison. Heâd gone to the farmers market and had practically knocked Lela over when heâd turned a corner too quickly.
Unfortunately, heâd then managed to make things worse, since heâd been afraid to reach out to steady her balance but also afraid to simply stand and watch her stumble. Heâd eventually grabbed her elbow. The assistance had been a few seconds too late but had helped Lela regain her footing.
Then sheâd thanked him.
Heâd been so struck by her sweetness, heâd continued to grasp her arm. After another five seconds passed, heâd jerked his hand away like his fingers were on fire.
When he dropped his hand, sheâd smiled. That smile had been so pretty, heâd felt his whole being settle into place.
After that moment, heâd somehow kept seeing Lela around town. Every time, sheâd made him feel flustered. He couldnât 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. âDaniel, are you having trouble breathing? Do you need a cup of water?â
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. âNee,â he said at last. His mouth went dry. Had his voice just squeaked?
Confusion filled her brown eyes. âNo, you arenât having trouble breathing, or no, you donât need a cup of water?â
âNo to both.â Realizing that he sounded rude even to his own ears, he cleared his throat. âI mean, nee, but danke. I am fine.â
To his surprise, Lela looked disappointed. âOh. Well, I am glad about that.â
When she didnât move away, he told himself to turn and start walking. But for some reason, he simply couldnât do it. It had been a really long time since heâd received so much kindness.
Of course, on its heels was another bout of worry and self-loathing. She shouldnât be around him, let alone sharing a private conversation. People would talk. After one second turned into two, then three, he said, âWhat are you doing out here, Lela?â
She lifted her chin. âWhy shouldnât I be here?â
âBecause everyone else is gathered together on the Zooksâ lawn. Donât you want to be with the rest of the group?â
âNot especially.â A hint of a smile lit up her face. âMei parents like to stay as long as possible after the luncheons. Iâm always ready to relax at home, though. Itâs the Lordâs day, ainât so?â
He nodded. Lela wasnât 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. âYou sure donât say too much, Daniel. Have you always been that way? Or did you learn to be quiet in prison?â
Tossing out his resolve to remain carefully stoic and distant whenever she was near, Daniel gaped. âI canât believe you said that.â
A line formed between her brows. âIâm sorry. Would you feel better if no one ever mentioned your time in Mansfield? If so, I wonât bring it up again.â
Now he just felt foolish. As if never speaking about his past was going to somehow make it go away. âI didnât say you shouldnât mention prison. I was just surprised.â When she simply stared at him, he added, âIt donât really make a difference to me one way or the other.â
âNo?â
âItâs where I was, whether folks mention it or not.â
Lela seemed to think about that for a moment before replying. âThatâs how the past is, donât you think?â she mused. âNo matter how hard one might try to paint it a different color, itâs always with us.â
âI reckon so.â 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.
âYou need to walk away from me right now.â
âI think not.â
He tried again. âPeople are going to talk.â
Lela shrugged. âPeople talk no matter what. Iâm used to it, anyway.â
The young womanâlikely barely twentyâwas 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, âWhy would you be used to people talking about you?â
âBecause of my cousin, of course.â
He still wasnât following. âIâm sorry?â
âYou know who he is, right? My cousin was Brandt Showalter. Heâs the boy everyone said you killed.â
Though what she said was correct, the bold statement still stung. He took a step backward. âNot everyone says that. I was acquitted.â
Looking pained, she reached out and clasped his hand. âI know you were. Please forgive me. I didnât mean to sound as if I didnât know that. I... I get tired of everyone talking in circles and half-truths so I sometimes speak a bit too freely at times.â
He stared at their hands. Her skin was soft and smooth. And cool. She wasnât 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 shouldnât have been. After all, this was the first time a woman had touched him in years.
âLela?â Charity Borntragerâs voice was clear and piercing. âLela, what in the world are you doing?â
Looking stricken, Lela dropped her hand. âMy mamm is heading our way. Iâm so sorry, Daniel. Iâve got to go.â
âI know you do.â
He might be an innocent man whoâd been framed for another manâs 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 hadnât shot the gun that had killed Brandt, heâd held it. And while Brandt had wanted to try new things during his rumspringa, he wouldnât have gone to the party if Daniel hadnât taken him. Heâd 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. Heâd done too many thingsâboth in prison and outâto 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 wasnât fit for company.
