River of Mercy (24 page)

Gant waited. He didn't want to bait the boy, but his curiosity was growing.

“They haven't had it easy, it seems to me,” Gideon went on. “I doubt if anyone could live up to that man's demands. I've been around them some over the years, and I don't believe I've ever heard him give one of his boys a kind word. Especially Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“He's the oldest son. And maybe
because
he's the oldest folks seem to think he's had things the hardest at home. I've heard tell his
dat
takes his temper out on Aaron on a regular basis. More than on the other boys.”

“So Beiler has a temper?” Gant wasn't in the least surprised, although the comment might have surprised him had it been offered about most any other Amish man.

“A bad one, from what some folks say. I never actually saw it for myself, but Aaron has said things that would seem to point to it. And people talk.”

Gideon seemed to think a moment. “Samuel fancied himself a friend of my
dat,
but I'm not so sure Dat counted him that good a friend. In truth, I never thought he liked the man all that well. I know he didn't care much for old Sam's puffed-up ways.” He stopped, darting Gant a knowing look. “And I don't like how he won't leave Rachel alone.”

He stopped. “I'd better not say anything more. Mamm would be all over me for gossiping.”

“She's going to be out here giving both of us a piece of her mind if you don't go inside and get warmed up.”

Gideon grinned. “No doubt you're right. I shouldn't be keeping you either. You've got a ways to ride yet.”

Gant nodded. “You take care now. I'll see you tomorrow at the shop?”

“Oh, I'll be in at my usual time. And Captain, thanks for your help tonight.”

Gant nodded and rode off, mulling over Gideon's remarks about Samuel Beiler all the way into town.

In spite of the captain's advice about going inside to warm up, and despite the fact that he was shivering, Gideon delayed going back to the house. He felt as though he had guilt written all over him. His employer's warning about the treachery of foolish behavior had found its target, though he hoped the captain hadn't realized it.

In truth, he had been with Emma tonight. After much persuasion, he'd convinced her to meet him at the old mill bridge. No doubt the fact that her father and brothers were still down at Marietta accounted for her eventually giving in to his urging. Even so, once they were together he was pretty sure she was glad she'd come, even though he could tell she felt nervous about being alone with him in such a remote place after dark.

He was convinced she was as attracted to him as he was to her. The shine in her eyes when she allowed herself to look at him more than a second or two, the pretty shade of pink her face turned at the same time, and the way she seemed to hang on his every word…well, it was fairly obvious she liked him all right.

All they did was talk. He sensed that if he so much as touched her at this point, he'd spoil any chance he might have of courting her. Besides, something about Emma made him want to treat her as if she were made of glass. She was a special girl, a good Amish girl, and he meant to respect her just as any decent Amish man would. And he was still Amish, after all.

But the notion of actually courting her might be too far-fetched to even consider, other than seeing her in secret. But wasn't that pretty much how his people carried out their courting anyway?

Emma, however, would never go along with some kind of
verboten
relationship. Even if she wasn't afraid of her
dat
—and Gideon was fairly certain she was afraid of him—she wasn't the kind of girl to turn her back on the way she'd been raised.

No, Emma wasn't made for deceit. She would stay true to her family and her faith. She would marry a good Amish fellow and be a good Amish wife and mother. And even if she were tempted to stray from her beliefs and her heritage, her folks would find a way to stop her.

But they wouldn't need to stop her. Emma had said it herself, making her feelings very clear before they separated. “I can't meet you like this again, Gideon. It's not right. I like being with you, but I won't do this again, so please don't ask me to.”

So, then, why was he even
thinking
about courting her when he knew how impossible the whole idea was?

Because he wanted her. Trouble was, he wanted her in the right way, not in some secret, tarnished relationship.

Foolish! He wasn't ready—he didn't know when or if he would ever be ready—to go back to the Plain life. Living Amish, leaving the
Englisch
world altogether, becoming boxed in again with all the confining rules and restrictions of the Plain ways…could he really see his future in that light?

He had promised himself he would live
Englisch
until he could find out who was causing all the trouble for the Amish. Otherwise, he could do nothing to stop the ones responsible. The Plain People didn't believe in revenge or even in defending themselves. If he went back to the community, he'd have to accept the beliefs in which he'd been raised. Those beliefs didn't include any kind of retaliation or physical threat. Even if he should happen to find out who was bringing down all the trouble on the Amish, he wouldn't be free to do anything about it.

Right now, with things as they were, his situation was entirely different from Emma's. He couldn't be shunned because he had never joined the church. He might rate the disapproval of the community, and some might even turn their backs on him, but by rights they couldn't shun him for the way he was living.

Emma's situation was different though. She had taken her church vows, so she could be shunned. Her life could be ruined by taking up with him.

The captain had even hinted at that very thing. Hadn't he just warned him to be careful not to bring trouble down on himself—or anyone else?

He would never want to be responsible for hurting Emma. Never. Better to stay away from her altogether. The very thought brought a hammer of pain to his heart, and in that instant, he knew he had allowed his feelings to overwhelm his good sense. He felt like a
dummkopf.
Like a foolish, lovesick schoolboy.

Worse still, he was starting to feel all the makings of a trap closing in on him.

23

Black our fearful crime must be.

R
ICHARD
D'A
LTON
W
ILLIAMS

H
e clenched his fists in frustration. Things couldn't have gone more wrong.

Nearing home, he tugged his coat more tightly around him, aggravated by the cold, the odor of smoke he could still smell on himself, and the memory of all the people crowding to help, with that Gant fellow in the midst of them as if he belonged.

Just his luck the outsider would be right there in the house when the fire started. He hadn't once thought of that. By the time he'd seen Gant's big red horse, it was too late. The fire was well under way.

His plan had depended on a serious loss and on suspicion falling on the outsider. Instead, Gant ended up looking the hero—manning the pump, helping out wherever he could, the others counting on him, looking up to him. Their faces, shining in the light of the fire, even seemed to show
respect
for him!

Another plan botched. Nothing was going as he'd intended. Somehow, Gant always spoiled everything.

What was it going to take to get rid of him? Obviously, more than he'd first thought. There had to be something that would force Gant to leave—or at least something that would finally press him to stay away from Rachel and the People.

He stopped at the lane leading up to his house, waiting for a fresh surge of strength and determination to well up inside him. Within minutes, he could feel himself growing stronger, more focused, more dedicated. The failed barn fire was just an obstacle on the path, after all, not a defeat.

Hadn't he known from the beginning it might not be easy, that most likely it would take more than one or two incidents to accomplish his goal? So he had more to do. He simply needed yet another plan. He was committed to doing whatever it might take to rid their lives of the menace among them—and at the same time make his own life considerably easier.

This much he now promised himself: Regardless of how difficult or how dangerous, he would do whatever it took to get rid of Gant. He wouldn't be hindered by what hadn't worked, but instead would look forward to the next event.

And now that he knew Gant's secret, the next challenge would almost certainly be the final one.

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