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She glanced his way. Something in the tone of his voice made her suspect he hadn’t. “The bed was not to your liking?”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It wasn’t that.”
“Then what was it?”
“Anna mentioned that Jacob thinks your family might get in trouble for having me here.”
Turning around, she folded her arms and stated as firmly as she could, “You were invited into this house. There is nothing wrong in that.”
“Are you sure? Because I got the feeling your father wasn’t happy to see me, either.”
“Papa has agreed that you may stay.”
It had taken some persuading, but Karen had been able to convince her father that having an outsider with them for a short period of time would not be harmful. She was sure her father didn’t suspect the depths of her interest in John Doe. If he did he would never allow him to stay.
To change the subject, she asked, “How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Is that a thing you remember?”
“I don’t know. It’s just the first thing that came to mind.”
Using a fork, she whipped the eggs quickly and added them to the skillet. “What is it that you would like to do today?”
“I need to discover why I was in this area.”
Wrapping the corner of her apron around the coffeepot handle, she carried it to the table. “If the sheriff could not discover the reason, what makes you think you can?”
He waited until she had finished filling his cup. After taking a sip, he said, “I don’t know if I can do better or not, but I have the most at stake. I have to try.”
Karen returned the coffeepot to the stove and stirred the eggs. “It seems a simple thing. If you were on this road, then you must have been on your way to, or coming from, one of the farms along this road.”
“It’s a simple thing if I was on this road in the first place because I wanted to be.”
She glanced at him and frowned. “What you mean?”
“The sheriff is going on the assumption that I was robbed and my car was stolen along with my wallet and any personal effects. I could’ve been dumped here by someone who was attempting to hide my body.”
She shook her head. “There are much better places to hide a body than on our farm lane.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
She dished the eggs onto a plate. After carrying it to the table, she got a second mug, filled it with coffee and sat down across from him. “Will you then visit every farm along this road?”
“That is the only plan I can come up with. What do you think?”
“It makes sense, but it may not be easy.” She hesitated not knowing exactly how to phrase her words.
“What do you mean?”
“There are over forty farms along Pleasant View road. Most belong to Amish farmers.”
“And?”
“They may not be comfortable talking to an outsider.”
Picking up a spoon, he stirred his coffee slowly. After a moment he looked directly into her eyes. “Will you help me?”
She glanced out the window toward the barn. Papa would not like her getting involved. It troubled her that she was considering helping this man against her father’s wishes. But she was.
John must have sensed her reluctance. He said, “If you aren’t comfortable with helping me, I understand. You don’t know anything about me.”
Tipping her head in his direction, she arched one eyebrow. “You don’t know much about you, either.”
That brought a ghost of a smile to his face. “True.”
Crossing her arms on the table she stared at him. “I know that you like scrambled eggs and that you don’t want to cause me trouble. I will do what I can to help you, but I am afraid it may not be much.”
Rising to her feet, Karen said, “Finish your breakfast. I have much work I must do today, but tomorrow I will drive you to some of our neighbors’ farms.”
“Are you sure we can’t get started today?”
She scowled at him. “Who will bake my bread? Who will mend the clothes my brothers must wear? Who will cook lunch for my father and our evening meal? These things I must do and many more. Tomorrow, I will make time for you. Besides, you need a day of rest. I see it in your eyes.”
He looked ready to protest, but finally nodded. “You’re right. One more day won’t make a difference. You rented me a house, you didn’t sign on to be my driver.”
“Goot, and you will rest, ja?”
“I’ll try. Does Hope Springs have a public library?”
“Yes. It is across from the English school on Maple Street. Why?”
“I need internet access. There is a national website for missing persons called NamUs. If anyone in the country reports a man of my description missing, the information will be posted there. I know Sheriff Bradley is doing all he can, but he doesn’t have much manpower to devote to my case. I must help myself.”
“Tomorrow, we can go there first thing.”
“No, I’d like to start questioning people first.”
“As you wish. Now you must finish your breakfast and get out from under my foot so I may wash the kitchen floor.”
He quickly finished his plate, swigged the rest of his coffee and carried everything to the sink. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Ja. Would you go to the barn and check on Dat?”
“Your dad?”
She nodded. “I’m worried about him. He is trying to do too much too soon. He broke his arm five weeks ago when a neighbor’s horse kicked him. He wants to get back to work, but the doctor says no. The broken bone damaged a nerve and he has lost feeling in his hand.”
“I’ll be happy to check on him.”
“Danki.”
He eyed her intently. “And that means?”
“It means, thank you.”
“How do you say, you’re welcome?”
“Du bischt wilkumm.”
He repeated the phrase and she was surprised by his almost perfect pronunciation. “Goot. Now, out, or you will find yourself with a mop in hand.”
She was smiling as he walked out, but her grin faded quickly. She had chosen to remain with her family and care for her younger brothers and sisters after their mother was killed. She had given up her chance to marry and have a family of her own because she had been needed here.
At twenty-five, she was considered an old maid by many in the community. She considered herself too old and too wise for a youthful infatuation, but that was exactly the way she felt around John.
He was handsome in his English way, but he was not Plain. So why did a smile on his face make her heart beat faster? It was wrong to think of him in such a way. To forget that would be to bring heartache to all her family. They had suffered enough already. She would not bring them more pain.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ua2947530-3874-5143-91c8-63ffb95308e1)
Stepping off the front porch, John looked up. The morning sky hung low, gray and overcast. The wind carried a hint of rain as it scattered fallen leaves across the ground in front of his feet. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Karen working in the kitchen through the windows. Once again he was struck by how gracefully she moved.
She wore a dark purple dress today with a black apron over it. The color accentuated her willowy frame. The ribbons of her white cap drew his attention to her slender neck, the curve of her jaw and her delicate ears.
He turned away from the sight, recognizing his interest for what it was. The attraction of a man to a lovely woman. He had no business thinking about any woman in a romantic light. Not until he’d solved the riddle of his past.
Heading toward the barn, he studied the looming structure. It was a huge, solid building, obviously well cared for. Pulling open one of the doors he entered into the dim interior. Instantly, the smells of animals assailed him along with the odors of hay, old wood and feed. He knew these smells the way he knew he was right-handed.
Off to the left was an area that served as Eli’s blacksmith shop. Brooms and assorted tools hung from horseshoes attached to the bare wooden walls and overhead beams. Two steel frames suspended from the ceiling had been rigged so they could be released to swing down on either side of a fitful horse during a shoeing. An anvil sat secured to a worn workbench. Beside it was a water barrel and racks of horseshoes of different sizes. A rolling cart in the corner contained all the tools a farrier needed in their proper places.
Walking over to the shoes, John picked one up. It was too heavy. He hefted another. They should be lighter. He didn’t know why, but he knew they should be.
The sound of a loud whinny greeted him. He replaced the shoes and moved toward the source. In the filtered daylight he made out a half dozen equine heads hanging over their stall doors to check out this newcomer.
He stopped at the first stall. Molly nuzzled at his shirt pocket. He scratched her head. “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed to bring a treat. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
“Do you like horses, Mr. Doe?”
John turned to see Mr. Imhoff approaching from the back of the barn. In his free hand he held a pitchfork.
“It appears that I do,” John answered.
“Is it true what my daughter says? That you have no memory of your life before you were found on our lane?”
“Yes, it’s true.”
“I have heard of such a thing. My father’s oldest brother was kicked in the head by a horse. It was a full day before he recovered his senses.”
“I have recovered my senses, just not any personal memories.”
“That is a strange burden for God to give a man, but He has His reasons even if we cannot understand them.” Hiding his bitterness at God, John turned back to Molly. “Your mare has nice confirmation. Do you plan to breed her?”
“I’ve already had two nice colts from her.” Eli began walking toward the back of the barn. John followed him to a small paddock where a black horse was trotting back and forth.
John leaned his elbows on the top rail and watched the animal with pleasure. “Hey, pretty boy. You look like you’ve got some get up and go,” he murmured softly.
A blinding pain made him wince. He saw another black horse, rail-thin with its hip bones sticking out. The animal was covered in sores and flies. Death hovered over him.
Sucking in a quick breath, John opened his eyes. The vision was gone.
Eli didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. He said, “This one’s name is One-Way, and he should look fast. His sire, Willows Way, won the Hamiltonian at the Meadowlands ten years ago.”
John rubbed the ache from his temple. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid that doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“It means his sire was a racehorse, a trotter and a goot one.”
John looked at the Amish farmer in his dark coat, long gray beard and worn black hat. “You are raising racehorses?”
Eli smiled. “Mostly I raise and train carriage horses. I bought my first Standardbred when I was a teenager. I was looking for a fast horse to impress my girlfriend.”
“How did that work out?”
“The courtship did not, but the horse did. I got interested in the breed, began to study trade magazines and it wasn’t long before I was breeding them myself. Back then I couldn’t afford the stud fees of high-profile stallions. I got very goot at losing money at what my wife called my foolishness.”
“Isn’t horse racing and betting against your religion?”
“Ja, it is a worldly thing and thus forbidden to us.” “Okay, then I’m confused.”
Eli’s grin widened. “There is nothing wrong in breeding a fine horse. They are God’s creatures, after all. If you can sell that horse for an honest price, there is nothing wrong with that, either. This one’s brother is doing well on the racing circuit this year.”
John smiled as understanding dawned. “I see. If the fine horse should win a race or two for some new owner, then the next foal from your mare will be worth even more money.”
“Ja. It is all in the hands of God. I try to remember to keep Him first in my life for He rewards His faithful servants.”
“When will you sell this fellow?”
“After the first of the year I will take him to the Winter Speed sale in Delaware, Ohio.”
The place meant nothing to John.
Eli said, “My daughter has taken a keen interest in you.”
John was surprised by the abrupt change of topic. “Your daughter has been very kind.”
“She has a goot heart. It was the same with her mother.” Eli’s voice became wistful.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Karen told me what happened.”
