Unshaken

Chapter 12

12

After she’d had her mini breakdown with Crenshaw, Stephanie pulled herself together. Sure, she was in the middle of the scariest situation of her life, but that didn’t mean she could go around screaming at ranch hands.

After unpacking the bags, which included some fruit, a block of cheese, and some milk and orange juice, she’d taken a bath. When she was finally clean, she’d made herself a sandwich, sat down at the small table, and peered out the window.

The clouds were still heavy in the sky, but it looked as if the rain had stopped for the time being. A pair of cardinals were perched on a tree branch. Nearby was a bird feeder that was half empty.

Seeing the pair of bright red birds felt like a good sign. Someone had once claimed that cardinals were signs that someone in heaven was looking out for her. She’d always thought that a bit too fanciful, but now, as she watched the pair, Stephanie allowed herself to imagine that they’d been sent by her parents.

Just to remind her that she was never completely alone.

After she’d cleaned up her plate, she spent some time wondering what to do with herself. She wasn’t used to having any free time. Yet again, she reflected on her life with Mark and Jo. They’d taken her in, given her a place to sleep, and fed her three meals a day.

Not once had either of them lifted a hand to her. They’d also allowed her to do some chores at Miss Jean’s house next door. That small job had given her not only a few hours of independence from time to time, but the ability to have some money all to herself—which she’d used once a month to buy her own necessities. There were lots of single women her age who still had to give any money they made to their parents.

So, she was grateful for that.

But Stephanie would never say that life with her aunt and uncle had been easy or carefree. Or happy.

Usually, it was depressing. She was always reminded of their charity and felt obligated to help with her two nieces and nephew and the chores around the house as much as possible. She loved those children and didn’t mind helping with chores, but she was also aware that she didn’t have a choice. Taking a day off or refusing to clean a bathroom or mop the floor wasn’t an option. Because imagining a different life was both painful and useless, she’d tried her best to focus on the present and be grateful.

But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t longed for more than a few minutes to rest and relax from time to time.

After she tired of watching the birds, she decided to explore the cabin a bit more. There was a small bookcase with about thirty or so books inside. Pleased to find something to take her mind off things, she perused the titles, stacking a couple of choices on the coffee table. To her surprise, one of the hardcover books was actually a photo album. The cover was dark leather. She opened it, curious to see if anything was inside.

And realized that it was almost filled. Just as she was about to return it to the shelf, she noticed that one of the men in the pictures was the man who’d driven her to this very cabin last night. Hardy. It was a different version of him, however. This Hardy was in a military uniform and wearing sunglasses. His arm was tossed over a pair of other soldiers. All three of them were grinning in the way that men were apt to do. As if they had the world on a string and it was their right and expectation.

The idea of such cocky confidence should have repelled her, but instead it made her grin. Maybe it was because she’d seen some men in her church community wear the same expressions after they’d put up a barn.

Even though Mark and Jo used to take pains to remind her that their tight-knit circle was better than the outside world, those same full-of-themselves grins were reminders that the Amish weren’t all that much different than their English counterparts. Not all the time.

After smiling at that stroll down memory lane, Stephanie flipped the page to look at a few more pictures. Discovered that not every soldier was a man; a few of them were women. They looked just as tough as the men by their side too. As she studied the photographs more carefully, she realized that some of the photos had been taken in the desert.

To her surprise, the soldiers in the photos didn’t look as if they were hot, but how could that be? Wasn’t the desert always warm? Maybe not. She wondered where in the world they’d been. What had that experience been like? Life changing? Horrific? Just sandy?

“You think too much, Steph,” she chastised herself. “What does it matter?”

She supposed it didn’t.

Two sharp raps interrupted her thoughts and made her heart race. Until she remembered that the last person to show up had been Crenshaw, and he’d apologized for scaring her.

He’d also reminded her to lock the door, since it seemed as if the door didn’t always click shut in a secure way. Even more importantly to her, even though he’d looked a bit scary, the man had been kind and polite.

She needed to get a handle on herself. If it was a gang member on the other side of the door, he probably wouldn’t be knocking. She was pretty sure he’d break down her door and then shoot her. Again.

Peeking through the peephole in the door, she saw Hardy looking back at her.

“It’s just me, Stephanie,” he said in his deep, raspy voice.

She flipped the dead bolt and opened the door. Tried to think of something to say but couldn’t, so she decided to remain silent.

He did a scan of her face and body as he strode inside, both of his hands loaded with bags. “How you doing?” Still studying her, he said, “Your eyes are a little swollen. Have you been crying?”

“I have.” Seeing no need to tell him about how all the events had finally caught up with her, she shrugged. “The tears were needed. I’m fine now.”

After studying her for a few more moments, his concern seemed to ease. “I reckon you were entitled to a few tears. My momma used to say the same thing.”

“Does she not say it anymore?”

“I suppose she would, if she could. But she’s not around. She passed away ages ago.” He folded his hands behind his back. A pose reminiscent of the photographs she’d seen. “I guess we have something in common.”

“I guess so.” She stared right back at him. Actually, she took a moment to study his face. Realized that she hardly noticed his scar anymore. Allowed herself to wonder if his mother’s passing still made his heart ache.

Hardy was still standing next to the open door. His expression didn’t exactly turn wistful, but a change did occur. Some of the jagged edges of his countenance seemed to smooth.

“Do you ever wonder why we got to experience death at such a young age?” His voice had turned soft. Almost as if he wasn’t talking to her, simply thinking out loud.

But still, she answered. “Yes.” She had indeed wondered why both of her parents had died when most everyone else’s lived until they were old and gray. She wondered why she’d had to experience a lot of things, like living with a pair of relatives who weren’t affectionate or loving.

Or even the most recent experience. Sometimes it was difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she’d walked into the middle of gang activity when all she’d been doing was buying a few treats for herself.

Another second passed as they stared at each other. Then, with a frown, Hardy shook his head slightly. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.” He held up the collection of plastic grocery bags in his hand. “I brought you a couple more things and wanted to talk to you about something.”

“All right.” She held out her hands for them, but he shook his head.

“No, let’s go into the kitchen. A couple of the items need to go in the freezer.”

She followed him the short distance, curious as to what he’d brought.

Looking pleased with himself, he set the bags on the table. “Go on, now. Take a peek. But open the white bag first.”

She reached for the closest and gaped at what was inside. More clothes. She glanced up at him.

Hardy looked a bit uncomfortable. “I thought you might need some shirts and sweats that won’t swim on you.” When she pulled out what looked like a package of underwear, her face burned with embarrassment.

“Look, I know this is awkward, but I wanted to make sure you had what you needed. Besides, I was in the Army and around plenty of women in uniform in close quarters. We all learned real quick not to get too attached to privacy.”

“I see.” She opened the next bag to find a pair of tennis shoes, two books, and a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. The puzzle was of a group of dogs dressed up like cowboys. She couldn’t help but giggle.

This time he was the one who looked a little awkward. “I wouldn’t have picked such a dopey picture. Like I said, there weren’t a lot of choices.”

“It was very kind of you to think of me.” He’d obviously paid for it all too. “The puzzle and books will keep me busy. I am grateful for the clothes as well.”

He waved his hand toward the remaining bags. “Go on now. There’s more.”

Realizing that one of them was cold, she dove into it like a child on Christmas morning. Then, she embarrassed herself further by squealing at the sight of not one but two containers of ice cream.

“I guess you like ice cream?”

“Oh, jah. But who doesn’t?”

The corners of his lips turned up. “I reckon you have a point. So, there’s rocky road and vanilla. Do you like either?”

“I like both.” The truth was her aunt hadn’t been much of a fan of desserts of any sort. And when she had brought them out, Stephanie expected to be the last served. On more than one occasion there hadn’t been anything left by the time it was her turn.

Once again, Stephanie promised herself that when she was on her own one day, she would strive to be far more giving to others around her.

Unaware of the direction of her thoughts, Hardy’s lips turned up again. “I like both of those flavors too. One has everything, the other is just simple goodness.”

“Indeed.”

Also in the bag was a frozen pizza and a bag of potato chips. And a deck of playing cards. “Cards too?”

Hardy looked away, as if he was embarrassed. “Spending a bunch of hours alone is hard. Time goes slow. It’s good to have something to fill the time.”

“All of this will do the job.”

“Good.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee or something?” She felt silly, offering a beverage in a kitchen that wasn’t hers, but she was anxious to do something for him.

“You know what? Yeah. That would be great.”

She stood in front of the contraption. “I’m afraid you’ll have to show me how this works.”

“Oh. Sure. It’s a Keurig.”

That meant nothing to her, but she actively watched him fill the water holder, push a button, and put a little container into the top.

“This is called a K-Cup.” He pointed to the tops of the ones resting in a basket. “See the different flavors?”

“I do now.”

“So, you pop it in, close the latch, press the button, and put a cup underneath,” he said as he demonstrated each movement.

When coffee started coming out, he said, “Pick out a pod, Stephanie. You’re going to do the next one.”

A minute later, she was doing just that. And grinning.

Until she noticed Hardy was staring at the open photo album she’d left in the center of the coffee table. “Man, I haven’t seen these in a while. Where did you find this book?”

She pointed to the bookcase. “I was looking for something to read and pulled it out. When I opened the cover, I couldn’t resist looking at the photographs.”

He looked at them, and suddenly Stephanie worried she’d just done yet another thing she wasn’t supposed to.

She froze.

With shaking hands, she carried her coffee cup to the table. “I’m so sorry, Hardy.” Looking him in the eye, she added, “I have no excuse for doing this except that I was curious. I haven’t had the opportunity to see too many photos. Plus, I was looking for anything to take my mind off what’s been going on.” She moved her hurt arm a bit.

Hardy’s expression softened. “Hey—it’s okay. I’m not mad. But we need to talk about some things.”

“Okay.”

“The sheriff is going to stop by. I don’t know what he can do—the shooting was in another state and all—but I think it’s good that we keep him informed. Don’t you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I ... I mean, I don’t know much,” she blurted. “Talking to him won’t help.”

“I told him that was probably the case,” Hardy replied in an easy tone. “However, there’s still a chance you might remember something about the driver of that vehicle that I didn’t.”

Feeling more worried, she shook her head. “Nee. I never saw the driver. When you told me not to turn around, I didn’t. I don’t want to talk to him.”

As if she hadn’t said a word, Hardy said, “The sheriff’s name is Billy Johnson. Sheriff Johnson. He’s a good man.”

“A lot of police don’t listen to the Amish.”

“I don’t know why that happened where you’re from, but here, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’ll listen to you.”

“But—”

“Stephanie, Bev told me that you don’t like the police. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry that you’re mixed up in this whole situation. None of it is easy. But refusing to speak to Sheriff Johnson isn’t going to make things easier. It might even make things harder in the long run. You need to speak to him.”

“Do you promise that he won’t take me to the police station?”

“I promise. He’s coming to visit you here. To visit us.” When she scanned his face, he added, “I promise.”

“All right.” She tried to make peace with that, then figured it didn’t matter if she was at peace or not. After all, she didn’t have much choice.

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I think I had better take a look at your wound.”

“Now?”

“Well, yes. You need it seen to. Plus, it looks like it might be paining you some.”

“It is. A little bit.” But did she want him to examine her wound? No, she did not. “But I’m sure it is fine. There’s no need for you to look.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

He would also be standing very close to her. Touching her arm. Already wondering what his fingertips would feel like, Stephanie felt her skin heat. “There’s no need for you to examine me.”

“How about this: I’ll look at the wound, we’ll talk to Sheriff Johnson, and then we’ll celebrate by eating a pizza and having ice cream. What do you say?”

“Fine.” Stephanie thought Hardy was going above and beyond what Bev had probably intended. So far, he’d driven her around, hid her on his friend’s ranch, spoken to the authorities, shopped for her at a couple of stores, and was now planning to eat pizza with her too. She wasn’t going to have to spend the rest of the day staring out the window, watching birds, and reliving the terrible man’s actions, or being scared that he was going to show up at her doorstep.

“So ... you ready to do this?”

No. She needed a moment. She picked up the three sacks. “Jah. Let me put these away first. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Hardy would never have any idea how glad she was about that.