Amish Refuge

“There he is.” Abram’s voice.

Relief swept over Miriam.

“You’re on a wild-goose chase,” the first man said as he drew closer.

“I saw something,” Serpent replied.

The deep-voiced man snickered. “You saw that skunk standing at your backside.”

“What!” Serpent groaned.

The putrid and unmistakable stench of a skunk’s spray filled the air.

Leaves rustled wildly, followed by the sound of footsteps racing back to the roadway.

“Looks like Pearson learned his lesson about chasing varmints in the woods.” The deeper voice chuckled.

“He has other lessons to learn,” Abram said, his tone sharp and without the joviality of the other man’s. “Tell him to leave me alone.”

“I’ll tell him,” the man answered. “Although I doubt it’ll do any good.”

The voices became fainter, but even though the danger subsided, Miriam continued to tremble. Serpent had been too close.

Abram would come to get her, she felt sure, when the men had left the area. She and Abram would return to the farmhouse where she would remain until the roadblock was lifted.

But would Serpent continue to search for her? And if he found her, what would happen then?

SIX (#ue06aa252-b2ab-588f-8393-180bd5cd8139)

The next morning Miriam stood at the kitchen window and peered at the mountain road, searching for any sign of a dark sedan. Yesterday Abram had returned to the woods and found her as soon as the two lawmen had left the area. Grateful though she was, Miriam was still concerned about her safety.

She had risen early to help Abram’s sister. Apples needed to be peeled and pies baked for market, but the nervous churning in her stomach made her want to hide upstairs, away from the peering eyes of anyone who might pass by the farm.

Emma seemed oblivious to Miriam’s anxiety and chatted amicably as she worked. Stepping away from the window, Miriam wrapped her arms around her waist, debating how to still her unease.

“As I mentioned last night, I have many pies to bake,” Emma said as she placed a bowlful of apples on the table. “You will help me?”

Longing to allay the tension that tightened her shoulders, Miriam reached for the apple peeler. Using her hands would be therapeutic and might take her mind off the man who wanted to do her harm. Plus, Emma and Abram had provided her safe lodging. The least she could do was to help with the baking.

After peeling more than a dozen apples, Miriam heard Abram outside and, stepping to the sink for a drink of water, she peered from the window. “Does your brother ever stop working?”