The Amish Buggy Horse BOXED SET Books 1-3 (Amish Romance Book Bundle: Faith, Hope, Charity) (Boxed Set: The Amish Buggy Horse) (21 page)

Psalm 103: 10 - 14.

He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us. As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.

Chapter 8
.

Two days later, Isobel was sitting with her parents after dinner playing the card game,
Dutch Blitz
. The wind blew outside, turning the blades on the ancient windmill which sat near the equally ancient barn. Both of them were once painted red, but now most of the paint was coming off in long strips, or had already done so. The blades whined and whistled as they turned, but Isobel and her
mudder
and
vadder
were so used to it that they barely registered it.

“
Ach
, did you hear that?” Isobel’s
mudder
jumped suddenly. She was a short and portly woman, contrasting with her tall and thin husband.

Isobel looked at her mother. “What? Do you mean Blessing whinnying loudly? I've never heard him do that before."

Her
mudder
shook her head. “
Nee
, I thought I heard something else. I don't mean Blessing; I just thought he was stirred up by the wind. I mean I thought I heard a car.”

Isobel’s father stood, and moved to the large window in the family room. He bent at the waist, and peered out into the darkness.

“I don’t see anything,” he said in his deep voice. He reached up with his thin but hardened fingers and tugged at his gray
baard
.

“Well, it’s dark,” his wife said from her chair. “You aren’t likely to see anything, not from in here at any rate.”

Before her
vadder
could answer, Isobel heard Blessing whinnying again, and then another sound. It sounded like a step on the front porch creaking. Everyone held their breath, and then another sound came. It sounded like someone trying to open the locked front door.

Isobel was glad, after all, that there were now locks on the doors. They had never had locks on their doors before, being in a peaceful Amish community, surrounded by their fields of corn and wheat and vegetables. Their closest
Englisch
neighbor was the kindly John Burns, a man in his eighties whose wife had died five years earlier. Beyond that, it was six or so miles before they would run into anyone else.

After Isobel had seen the murderer flee, she had not felt safe, but at the same time, had not truly accepted the fact that she might be in danger. But now, hearing the step creak and the door handle move, her blood ran cold.

Isobel's heart pounded in her chest so hard that it blocked out sound; it beat in her ears so firmly and resoundingly that she missed what her
vadder
and
mudder
were saying until she noticed their lips were moving. Then she forced herself to calm down. She drew a deep breath, shut her eyes, and focused on what they were saying.

“I’m going to see who's there,” her
vadder
was saying.

“
Nee
,
nee
, you're not.” Her
mudder
clutched at his arm.

Isobel’s father shook his head and made his way into the living room. Her mother rose from beside her and rushed after him. Isobel was rooted to the spot in fear. Then Isobel heard the lock snap open and her
mudder
speaking loudly. “
Nee, nee
, Jonas. You can’t go out there!”

“I must; I need to see who is sneaking around my
haus
at night.”

“And do what?” Her
mudder's
voice was tense.

“Speak with him. Ask him to leave.”

“
Nee
. Get Isobel to call the detective.” Her mother's voice was trembling.

Isobel stood suddenly and picked up the cell phone from the table.

Her father nodded. “Go ahead,” he said. “Give him a call.”

Less than thirty minutes later, headlights shone through the living room window. In that thirty minutes they had not heard any more noises, and Blessing had stopped whinnying, but everyone was tense and on edge. Isobel’s
vadder
was first to rise when the lights splashed across the wall, but the two women followed him to the front door.

He peeked out of the window and then unlocked and opened the door. Detective Stutzman soon burst through the door. He was dressed for work in a gray suit, with the jacket blowing behind him a bit as he walked briskly. His hand was on his hip, resting on the butt of his gun. He hurried into the
haus
, his face filled with concern.

“Thank you for coming, Peter," Mr. Slabaugh said, "but you’re going to need to leave your gun in the car. As you know, we don’t allow weapons in our
haus
.”

“Oh yes, please forgive me," he said.

When Peter returned to the porch, he was welcomed inside. He stood just inside the door and smiled softly to Isobel.

“Are you all right?” he asked her. His voice was full of tenderness and concern. When Isobel nodded, he continued. “You heard noises, and someone was trying to get in?” the detective asked the family at large.

“
Jah
,” Isobel’s father said. “Mary thought she heard a car, and then we heard someone walk up the porch steps, and then he tried the door handle."

"He was probably trying to scare you," Peter said. "If he had really wanted to get inside, he would have waited until your gas lamps were off, and waited until the middle of the night. Jonas, come with me and we'll have a look around, and you ladies stay inside. Lock the door behind us."

The men went outside to search the grounds together. The women stayed inside, with the front door locked, but Isobel’s mother peeked out through the window, holding a curtain aside.

When the men finally returned, everyone went into the living room, to the warmth of the fire.

“Someone was here,” Peter said, holding his hands in front of the fire and rubbing them together. “We found tire tracks just off the drive some ways up, and footprints here and there. They should keep until morning, when I can get a team out here to run some plaster molds. I can run them, see if we can get anything useful from them.”

Isobel did not know what to say; the idea of someone walking around her
haus
and trying to get in was all too much for her. She held a hand to her chest as Peter continued to speak.

“I’m going to stay on your couch tonight. I won’t bring my gun in, but you need someone here just in case.”

“
Nee
,” Isobel said, without thinking. She was not sure why she was so opposed to the idea, and in truth it intrigued her a bit. Yet to have this
mann
, who at the same time both infuriated her and attracted her, on the couch, brought up too many conflicting feelings within her.

“I need to keep you safe," he said in an insistent tone that brooked no argument. "If this is about what you saw, if someone wants to keep you quiet, they aren’t going to stop.”

Isobel’s
mudder
clutched at her throat. “Is that what you think this is? Is someone going to come for her?”

“It seems as if someone has already come,” Isobel’s
vadder
said. "If Detective Stutzman thinks he should stay, then he’s going to stay.”

And just like that it was settled. Her father sent Isabel upstairs to fetch some blankets and pillows from a closet for Peter. She carried them in her arms down the stairs. She could overhear her parents talking in the kitchen, and when she returned to the living room, only Stutzman was there.

Isobel’s cheeks burned red. She was embarrassed that he would see she was so flustered. She moved to the couch and dumped the blankets and pillows upon it. She turned to leave without a word, but Peter stepped forward and took her softly by the arm, pulling her back around to face him.

“What are you doing?” Isobel asked, her eyes wide.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Whoever is doing this, Raines, or anyone else, I won’t let them get to you.”

Isobel took a breath. “Why don’t you think it was Raines?”

“I don’t think Raines is the guy you saw, because we have him on video at the same time the murder happened. His lawyer has his waiting room on tape. Raines went in well before the murder, and came out a while after the murder. He was in there for the whole time. That doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s involved, of course; he could've hired someone.”

“It is him, I tell you,” Isobel said. “The picture!”

Peter sighed and shook his head. He let go of Isobel’s arm. “We don’t have to have this conversation again; we had it a couple of days ago. We can’t go after him, not with an alibi like that, not with him on tape. We just can’t. If it is him, somehow, or if he’s involved, we have to play it smart. If he’s coming here, or sending someone, we can get him. We’ll run those tracks tomorrow, and we’ll pull it against any cars we know him to own, or his friends. There are footprints, so we’ll have the type of shoe worn. This will give us a lot of openings to figure out what exactly is going on. All right?”

Isobel nodded. She felt as if she wanted to say something else, but instead she shook her head softly and went up to bed.

In her bed she lay under the covers and stared at the ceiling. The waxing moon was fat and almost full outside, a big silver orb hanging in the sky. It threw moonlight into Isobel’s room, sending light across her floor, up and over the bed. Isobel looked to the moonlight, and watched it inch slowly along her covers as the moon floated lazily in the sky. She thought of the fact that someone had come to her
haus
, someone who she was convinced was out to hurt her. She thought of
Gott
and His protection, and she also thought of Peter, and how much safer she felt knowing he was downstairs. She closed her eyes, and tried to quiet the thoughts that were running through her head, keeping her awake. Eventually she did, and she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Detective Peter Stutzman made himself as comfortable as he could on the faded, blue couch, his knees bent so that he could fit without his feet hanging over the edge. Why was he so attracted to the girl? He knew that the Amish believed that God had chosen one man for every woman, and if he were Amish right now, he would believe without any doubt whatsoever that Isobel was the girl for him. But right now, he wasn’t Amish; he was
Englisch
.

This was odd; he barely knew her. Yet she produced in him an overwhelming urge to protect her, to take her in his arms and make her safe. To make matters worse, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to feel the touch of her soft lips upon his.
You're crazy, Peter
, he said to himself as he closed his eyes and tried vainly to get to sleep.

Romans 6: 4.

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

Chapter 9
.

It was the second Sunday that the church gathering was held and this Sunday it was at Rebecca and Albert Stutzman’s
haus
. Isobel was pleased to be going to the gathering. She always felt safe amongst a large gathering of the community; it was as if
Gott
was right there amongst them and nothing could hurt her.

Isobel saw Melissa standing by herself and hurried toward her. Melissa and Isobel always sat with each other at the gatherings.

“
Hiya
, Isobel.” Melissa leaned over to peer into Isobel's face. “My, you look dreadful. Didn’t you sleep last night?”

Isobel shook her head. “
Nee
, I’ve had trouble sleeping ever since… Well, you know.”

Melissa's face was filled with concern. “I know. Have the police found the person who did it yet?”

“
Nee
, I don’t think so. They would've told us if they had.”

Normally at the Stutzmans’ place, in warmer weather the gatherings were held out in the barn, but on this occasion, they had all their furniture moved out of the
haus
and all the wooden church benches fitted in close rows down the center of the
haus
.

Melissa and Isobel sat in the back row on the women’s side. As always, it was the
menner
on the one side and the women on the other. During the half hour of singing, Isobel started to feel her old self again.

In fact, the
Loblied
, "Hymn of Praise," which was always the second song sung at every Amish church meeting - no matter which community one was in, this was always the second song - lifted her spirits as it always did.

O Lord Father, we bless thy name,
Thy love and thy goodness praise;
That thou, O Lord, so graciously
Have been to us always.
Thou hast brought us together, O Lord,
To be admonished through thy word.
Bestow on us thy grace.
O may thy servant be endowed
With wisdom from on high,
To preach thy word with truth and power,
Thy name to glorify.
Which needful is to thy own praise,
Give hunger for thy word always,
This should be our desire.
Put wisdom in our hearts while here
On earth thy will be known,
They word through grace to understand
What thou would have us to do.
To live in righteousness, O Lord,
Submissive to thy word,
That all our vows prove true.
Thine only be the glory, O Lord,
Likeness all might and power.
That we praise thee in our assembly
And feel grateful every hour.
With all our hearts we pray,
Wilt thou be with us every day
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
 

The words seemed to lift the heaviness off her heart until it was clear and light. Isobel turned and smiled at Melissa just as the first minister was about to speak. With that smile she told Melissa she was feeling better. She knew that Melissa would be able to read her smile, since the two of them were as close as
schweschders
. Melissa gave her a big smile right back.

A minister stood up in front of them and began his preaching. He was a large man with thick, dark hair and a large, bushy, dark
baard.
His voice boomed right through the Stutzmans'
haus.
He spoke on forgiveness and how everyone should forgive one another as
Gott
has forgiven them.

Isobel noticed that Melissa was distracted by something. She followed the direction of Melissa’s gaze and noted that Melissa was looking over at the other side of the room, at her new husband, Victor. Isobel wondered whether she would be so in love when she married. She hoped she would be, but she had never known what love was. She loved her
familye
and her animals, but she knew the love of a
mann
would be a far different thing and she ached to know what that was like. Seeing the look in Melissa’s eyes whenever she talked about Victor gave Isobel an inkling of what it would feel like to be in love.
It must feel dreamy, comforting, and happy all at the same time
, she thought.
Just like I feel about the detective
.

With that thought, Isobel jumped in her seat, so strongly that Melissa turned to her and raised her eyebrows.

Isobel was aghast, and forced herself to take her mind off love and to turn her attention to what the minister was saying about forgiveness. She realized it would be easy to forgive someone for a small transgression or some type of injustice, but how was Mrs. Harrison to forgive the person who murdered her husband? Just as that question popped into her head, the minister unknowingly answered it with his next words. "We use
Gott’s
strength and not our own." Isobel wondered how one would go about using
Gott’s
strength. It sounded
gut
in theory, but it seemed as though it would be much, much harder to do in real life.

When the minister finished, another minister spoke and then the bishop delivered the long sermon. Finally, a long prayer was said by Thomas Wyler.

After the church meeting had come to an end, the people moved to the side to enable the men to erect the long trestle tables for the after meal.

“That was
gut
today, wasn’t it?” Melissa asked.

Isobel agreed, but wondered if Melissa had actually been listening or whether she was too busy looking at her new, handsome husband.

Jakob hurried over. "Isobel, I’ll drive you to the Singing tonight."

Isabel bristled. Why didn't Jakob ever ask her instead of telling her? "
Nee
, Jakob.
Denki
, but I don’t want to go to the Singing tonight."

Jakob's cheeks puffed and his face reddened. "Isobel, can I have a word with you in private?"

Before she could answer, he took her elbow and moved her away from Melissa.

Isobel looked back at Melissa, who had raised her eyebrows and was trying not to laugh. "How dare you insult me!" he hissed.

Isobel was taken aback. "Insult you? Whatever do you mean?"

"You dared to turn me down in front of your friend."

Isobel was furious. "Leave me alone, Jakob." She hurried back to Melissa.

"Don’t worry, he's gone outside," Melissa said before Isobel could turn around. "What was that all about?"

"Well, he seems to think he owns me and can tell me what to do."

Melissa scrunched up her face. "That's strange; you’ve only been on two buggy rides with him, although I suppose he's always hanging around you at Singings and the like."

As the two women stood to the side of the room, talking, the elderly Alice Byler came toward them and clung onto Isobel's hands. “Isobel, I heard your
Englisch
employer was murdered; is that right?”

Throughout the church meeting, Isobel had tried to put it out of her mind. She was finally starting to feel her old self, and the last thing that she wanted was to be reminded of the terrible thing that happened. Couldn’t she just have a little break away from it all? Isobel forced a smile. “
Jah
, it was a terrible thing and I’m trying to put it out of my mind.”

“
Nee
, you can’t put it out of your mind,” Alice said.

“Why can’t she?” Melissa moved a little closer by Isobel’s side.

Alice looked around about her and leaned forward to the two girls. “I heard that it’s the Stutzmans' son who’s investigating the case.” Her tone was conspiratorial.

Isobel gasped as she put the pieces together: Rebecca and Albert Stutzman were Peter’s parents! She shot Melissa a startled look, and Melissa returned her a look just as startled. She had not told Melissa the name of the young detective.

“He’s their son?” Isobel asked.

“
Jah,
he is their son,” Alice Byler whispered, looking around her once again.

It was then that the memory of what had happened to the Stutzmans' other son came flooding back. Why hadn’t she remembered this before? Bill Stutzman had been accidentally killed some years earlier by a teenager who was robbing a store. Bill had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Isobel had heard that the Stutzmans' ‘other son’ had left the Amish because his parents had not wanted to do anything to avenge their son’s death, instead saying it was ‘
Gott’s
will.’

A vision of Peter Stutzman came into her mind. Was that why he left the Amish and joined the police force? He must have been of the opposite opinion to his parents and thought that they should have done something about their son.

He must be filled with pain
, Isobel thought.
Pain of losing his bruder and being helpless to stop it. In an effort to feel in some kind of control of life, he joined the police force. 

“Did you know Peter Stutzman, Alice?”

Isobel was not surprised when Alice nodded.

“
Jah
, I knew him,” Alice said. “You wouldn't remember him as he was about five or six years older than you. He was a delightful boy, but he changed when his
bruder
died. He screamed at his parents and challenged them to do something, but they would not.”

“Is he the detective on the case, Isobel?” Melissa asked.

Isobel nodded and knew that later, she would have to explain to Melissa why she hadn’t mentioned him. Then she decided now was as
gut
a time as any. “I didn’t know he was Rebecca and Albert's son. I didn’t even know that he had been brought up Amish.”
It's quite a shock
, she thought.

Alice looked around about her yet again, still clutching onto Isobel's hands. “Best not to mention their son to them. I dare say they’re upset about him leaving the community.”

“
Denki
, Alice.” Isobel watched Alice walk away. This time, Alice had given her useful information rather than the empty gossip she usually gave out.

“So, what’s he like, this Peter Stutzman? And why were you keeping him a secret?”

Isobel laughed. “Oh, Melissa, I wasn’t keeping him a secret. Like I just said, I didn’t even make the connection until just now when Alice told me who he was.”

“I bet he’s handsome, isn’t he?” Melissa chuckled.

Isobel shrugged her shoulders and hesitated to answer.

Melissa patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I was only being silly. I know you’ve had a big shock."

Isobel wasn’t listening to Melissa; she was too busy looking at Mr. Stutzman, who was helping the other
menner
arrange the tables. Peter did look a lot like his
vadder
. Isobel wondered what Peter’s
bruder
had been like.