Where Shadows Meet(2)

“I’m here,” she said, her voice trembling as hard as her limbs.

Then his strong arms were lifting her. He held her close to his chest, and she felt the way his heart pounded in her ear. His breathing sounded ragged, and she knew he’d been just as frightened as she. “You saved me,” she whispered. “Again. You always are there at the right time.”

He cupped his palms on each side of her head and kissed her. “I’ll always be here for you. No one is going to harm my Hannah.”

The possessiveness in his voice thrilled her. No one had ever made her feel she was so precious. “The first time we met, you chased off kids who were throwing tomatoes at me,” she said, a smile finally finding its way to her lips.

“Stupid kids,” he growled. “Just because you Amish don’t fight back is no reason . . .” He broke off, his voice choked.

“I got in some licks this time,” she said. “I’m ashamed to admit I fought back. But they—”

He put his fingers over her lips. “Don’t think about it. You did the right thing.”

In spite of what he said, she’d actually bitten a man. The shame felt too heavy to bear. All her teachings told her a Christian shouldn’t fight back, should meekly accept whatever God sent her way. She’d have to carry this choice without telling her parents.

“Let’s go to the jail and file a complaint against those two.”

“No!” She shuddered at the thought. “I don’t know who they were anyway. You got here in time. That’s all that matters. Where were you?” she asked. “I was about to go home.”

He slipped his arm around her waist. “Got hung up at work. I’m here now.”

“And just in time.” She dared to put her arm around his waist, too, and he grinned. His smile was the first of his many good traits to attract her. A smile that reflected a zest for life. He was Englisch, which made him taboo. And maybe that was part of the attraction that spread over her at the sound of his voice. He was older too—nearly thirty. Experienced. She liked that about him.

The emerging moon gleamed on the badge pinned to his shirt. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said.

Hannah’s free hand went to the strings on her bonnet. “I promised I would.” The word promise mocked her. Honoring her word tonight had caused her to break even bigger pledges. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“You belong with me.” His hands came down with a possessive grip on her shoulders.

Big hands, softer than Datt’s. As a sheriff’s deputy and a detective, Reece didn’t chop wood or handle a saw like the men in her community. He smelled good too. No odor of perspiration, just the spicy fragrance of oriental woods. She’d spent a whole afternoon at the department store last week, trying to identify what he wore, before deciding it was a fragrance called Contradiction.

And that pretty much summed up how he made her feel.

She dared a glance at his face and smiled back. “I can’t stay long. Someone is at home buying Mamm’s quilts. They’ll miss me in a few minutes.”

He pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “What are we going to do, honey?” he whispered against her hair.

“Come to meeting with me this Sunday,” she said. “It’s at our house. Visitors are welcome.”

He smiled. “Trying to convert me?”

“It would solve a lot of problems,” she admitted. While it was unusual for an Englischer to convert to the Amish faith, it had happened. Her own mother had walked such a path. And it would keep Hannah from having to make an impossible choice between her family and the man she was falling in love with.

He tugged her toward the shadows. “Come sit in the truck with me.” He took her hand and led her to his pickup, a black Dodge he’d bought just last week. He opened the door for her, and she slipped inside. It still smelled new, and her cotton dress slid across the leather seats. She ran her palm across the supple leather. So beautiful.

Reece got in on the other side and drove under a walnut tree, where he parked. He clicked on the auxiliary power. Music spilled from the radio, his favorite, Creedence Clearwater Revival. “Bad Moon Rising” blared from the speakers behind her. He slid out from under the steering wheel and pulled her into his arms. His lips came down on hers. She wanted to savor the sensation of his strong arms, let the music blot out her misgivings. Noah had never even embraced her. It wasn’t allowed. This was wrong, too, but in this moment, she didn’t care. All she knew was the touch of Reece’s hands and the scent of the mint on his breath. She relished the mastery of his hands on her.

Reece lifted his head, and his breath whispered across her face. “You know how I feel about you. Marry me, Hannah. We can leave right now. I’ll take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about anything. You’re mine—you know you are.”

The bright joy beating against her ribs exploded into panic. She put her palms on his chest and pushed. “The bishop would put me under the Meidung.” Why couldn’t she have met Reece three months ago, before she was baptized? But even then she would have been faced with an impossible choice. She slid away to brace her back against the door, but still she couldn’t bring herself to open it and walk away from him.

She was weak, so weak.

The thought of leaving her family made her lungs ache. Being Amish was as much a part of her body as the bone and sinew that kept her upright. Her life was about laughing and talking around the dinner table with loved ones, working side by side with her mamm. She’d never expected to find herself in this place, loving one of the Englisch when she was engaged to one of her own people.