Her Forgotten Amish Past. Debby GiustiЧитать онлайн книгу.

       THREE

      After breakfast, Becca helped with the cleanup and then studied the Budget over the next few hours, trying to find something that would trigger her memory. Finally, frustrated, she rubbed her forehead and moaned.

      Hattie came closer to the table. “What is wrong, dear? You sound frustrated.”

      “I have a name, but I want to remember my past, yet nothing comes. What is wrong with me?”

      “You have been injured. You have taken a bump to your head, and it has caused you to lose your memory. Give it time, dear. Relax and try not to fret.”

      Hattie went to the window and peered outside. “Ezekiel must be in the far pasture on the other side of the road. I need to sauté onions and peppers and brown some beef for the midday meal before I search for him.”

      The older woman’s brow furrowed as she turned back to the counter.

      Becca left the table. “You are busy, Hattie. I can get Ezekiel, if it would help you. The fresh air would be good for me, but I will need something to wear other than this nightgown and robe.”

      “I have Amish dresses that might be your size, but they are in the bottom of a trunk that will take time to unpack.” Hattie’s eyes widened. “But I bought Englisch clothing at the thrift shop in town last week.”

      “Why Englisch clothing?”

      “For quilt fabric, dear. The colors were subdued and the fabric perfect for a quilt I plan to make. The clothing is folded on a chair in my bedroom. I washed everything. Go to my room and see if you can find something to wear.”

      Becca smiled. “Is it allowed for an Amish woman to dress in fancy clothing?”

      Hattie smiled. “The dresses are plain. You should find something to wear. By the time you are back from the pasture I will have at least one of the Amish dresses hanging in your room. You can change as soon as you return to the house.”

      Grateful for the help Hattie had provided, Becca hurried upstairs and found the pile of clothing. Sorting through the dresses, she selected a simple tan dress that looked like it would fit. Although it was a bit shorter than what the Amish usually wore, she was thankful to have clothing and found a lightweight cotton jacket that would provide warmth when she ventured outside.

      Hattie smiled her approval as Becca entered the kitchen wearing the secondhand clothing. “Take the water jug on the counter. The paper bag contains two rolls with butter and jelly. Tell Zeke to eat the morning snack now and to come home in a couple hours or so for our midday meal. He is a hard worker and sometimes forgets to eat.”

      “When did he start working on your farm, Hattie?”

      “Two years ago. He had gone through a hard time and needed a place to live away from townspeople who sometimes seem more interested in other people’s business rather than their own.”

      “Zeke helps you,” Becca said, “while you help him.”

      “We are good for each other, yah?”

      Becca nodded. “Yah.”

      Grabbing the jug and paper bag, she stepped outside and breathed in the fresh mountain air. The day was cold but the sun was bright, which filled her with optimism. As Hattie had mentioned, her memory would return.

      Hattie had pointed her in the right direction, and Becca walked along the road and hurried toward the pasture, all the while enjoying the beauty of the crisp fall morning.

      In the distance, she saw Ezekiel sinking fence posts. Even from this far away, she could tell his strength by the ease with which he lifted the heavy posts and sunk them into the newly dug holes. For a moment, she almost forgot her own plight.

      But that moment passed with the sound of a car engine.

      Looking over her shoulder, she saw a black automobile heading down the mountain. Something about the vehicle made her pulse pick up a notch, or maybe it was being alone on the deserted mountain road that caused her to be anxious. She crossed the road, glanced at the pasture, and then studied the forest that surrounded it, hoping the trees and underbrush would provide enough cover if she needed to hide.

      Her pulse accelerated as the car increased its speed.

      The pasture where Ezekiel worked sat far from the road. He had his back to her and was probably unable to hear the vehicle. No doubt, he was focused on his work and oblivious to what she was beginning to believe was an encroaching risk.

      Reacting to her gut instinct, she made her way into the wooded area and stepped behind a large boulder. Crouching down, she watched the car draw closer. She was probably overreacting, but after last night it would behoove her to be careful.

      Relieved when the vehicle passed by, she started back toward the road but, once again, heard the sound of a car’s engine. Glancing in the direction the black car had gone, she realized it had turned around and was coming back.

      She returned to the boulder and hunkered down once again. This time her heart pounded even more rapidly.

      The car pulled to the side of the road and a man exited from the driver’s side. Early thirties with brown hair pulled into a man bun and a full beard. He had broad shoulders, stood well over six feet tall, and was wearing jeans and a pullover fleece.

      He stepped away from the car and peered into the woods, his gaze homing in on the boulder where she hid. Her chest tightened and everything within her cried danger.

      Not that she needed a warning. The man’s scowl was enough to cause a wad of fear to jam her throat.

      He took a few steps forward and stopped again to study the area. Her heart pounded so hard, she was sure he could hear its erratic cadence.

      Glancing over her shoulder, she spied a cluster of large rocks farther from the roadway. Slowly and carefully, she scurried toward the hiding spot and stopped on the far side to catch her breath. She placed the water jug and rolls on the ground and peered around the boulder, relieved to find him still staring into the distance.

      Leaving the bag and water behind, she again retreated, going farther into the woods.

      A twig snapped. She glanced back, fearful.

      He stared in her direction, then started running.

      She raced deeper into the woods, leaping over downed trees and skirting low patches of underbrush. The branches and brambles tugged at her dress and scraped her already raw hands and legs. Her side ached and her head pounded.

      She glanced back, hearing him trample through the underbrush and hoping he couldn’t hear her footfalls over the noise he was making.

      Ezekiel continued to focus on the fence. She yearned for him to glance up and notice the man who had picked up his pace and seemed to be running directly toward her.

      She caught her next breath, then ran to the pasture. She could see Zeke at the far end of the cleared area, still intent on his work. She waved her hand, hoping he would see her.

      The gate to the pasture lay ahead. She heard the man behind her. Trembling with fear, she struggled with the latch, pushed open the gate and sprinted forward.

      A snort sounded to her left. She glanced in that direction and came to an abrupt halt. A huge bull stood staring at her.

      From some place deep inside her, a warning bubbled up. She did an about-face and rapidly retraced her steps. Without taking time to shut the gate, she turned right and ran toward