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Seemingly exasperated by Zeke’s response, the younger man turned toward the porch. “Expect someone from the movie studio to stop by, Ms. Hattie.”
“A bearded guy?” Zeke asked, thinking of the man from this morning.
“A tall guy, clean-shaven,” Caleb said. “The studio needs an Amish farm on which to film a trailer for their next movie, and I mentioned your land. They pay well.”
“Is that how you bought your new sports car?” Zeke asked, his tone sharp.
“Credit, Zeke. Something you Amish don’t understand.”
“It was not that long ago when you and your family were Amish.”
“Things change.”
Ezekiel knew that all too well.
Hattie hurried down the steps and walked to where the two men stood. “I still do not understand why a movie studio comes to Amish Mountain.”
“For the idyllic setting.” Caleb spread his hands and peered at the surrounding area. “Plus Georgia is considered the Hollywood of the South.”
She shook her head with frustration. “Hollywood needs to stay in California.”
Glancing at the convertible, she added, “You must be careful, Caleb. Driving so fast on the winding roads is dangerous.”
He laughed. “Tell that to Zeke. There are more buggy accidents than automobile crashes on Amish Mountain. I bought the car because I’m working at the studio now.”
Hattie raised her brow. “You are a movie star?”
“Maybe someday. Right now, I’m working in the commissary. You should stop by sometime. I could show you around.”
“Commissary?” she asked.
“The dining hall where the crew eats,” Caleb explained.
“They are filming there now?”
“For the next few days, they’re shooting some extra scenes in town. The leading lady is being a little cantankerous. You know how temperamental movie stars can be.”
Something Ezekiel did not know. He doubted his aunt knew anything about Hollywood types either.
“Seems she left the lot,” Caleb continued, “and won’t answer her cell phone. The director is putting up a good front, but from what I’ve heard, he’s worried.”
“Worried she will not return to complete the film?” Hattie asked.
“That’s what I understand, although rumor has it she’s been difficult since filming began. Some folks thought the director was ready to fire her, but the producer stepped in and insisted the movie wouldn’t get the backing it needs without her.”
“An actress leaves before the filming ends?” Hattie shook her head. “I do not understand how that could be.”
“The ways of the world, Hattie, are not as the Amish live.”
“Ach, it is so.”
“I told Zeke that I stopped by for a slice of pie, but I really wanted to talk about buying some of your eggs. The studio cook who fixes meals for the cast and crew has been going to town for his supplies. I told him you might be able to provide fresh eggs from your chickens. I also mentioned your pies and cakes. He’s interested in purchasing your homemade desserts, if you have time for extra baking. You would be paid well for your efforts.”
Hattie thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yah, this is something I can do.”
Zeke touched her arm. “Are you sure you want to get involved with the studio?”
“What could be the harm?” She patted his hand as if to dismiss his concern and then turned to Caleb. “Yesterday, I baked cookies. You will take a dozen to the cook. He can decide if he is interested in buying my baked goods.”
Hattie hurried inside and returned with a filled cookie tin that she handed to Caleb. “You will let me know?”
“I’m sure he’ll agree to buy anything you can provide.” Caleb placed the tin on the passenger seat and rounded the car to the driver’s side.
Ezekiel glanced up and spied Becca at the kitchen window. Her expression made his breath catch.
“You mentioned the missing movie star,” he said before Caleb climbed behind the wheel. “What does she look like?”
“I’ve got a picture of her on my phone. She’s a nice lady, but evidently a little hard to handle. I downloaded her headshot.” He tapped his phone and held it out for Ezekiel to see. “There she is. Vanessa Harrington. You wouldn’t forget her if you saw her.”
Ezekiel took the phone. Hattie stepped closer and both of them stared at the woman filling the screen. She was attractive with long black hair, big brown eyes, high cheekbones and a mouth that puckered into a half pout, half smile.
Relaxing ever so slightly, Zeke handed the phone back to Caleb. “She looks to be in her thirties,” he said, hoping Hattie did not hear the relief in his voice.
“More like midforties, but makeup does wonders.” Caleb swiped his finger over his phone and held up a second photo. “Here she is with the producer, Nick Walker, and Kevin Adams, her leading man. The producer’s the big guy in the suit. The actor’s the bodybuilder with a beard.”
Zeke glanced momentarily at the second photo, noticing the younger man’s arm around the actress’s shoulders. The producer stood behind them, wearing a scowl on his square face.
“The producer does not look happy,” Zeke stated the obvious.
Caleb chuckled. “Mr. Walker is not known for his good humor. He and Vanessa spent a lot of time together from what I’ve heard. Evidently their so-called friendship has cooled somewhat.”
“And the younger man has moved in?”
Caleb shrugged. “Who knows? Although gossip at the studio is as plentiful as acorns on an oak tree.”
“Has anyone else gone missing from the studio?” Zeke asked.
“Not that I know of.” Caleb shoved his phone into his pocket. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. I presume the behind-the-scenes folks in the movie industry change jobs frequently. It is probably hard to get good workers.”
“I’m just glad they hired me.” Caleb opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. “I’ll stop by once I hear from the cook.”
As he pulled out of the drive, the kitchen door opened. Becca appeared anxious as she stepped onto the porch. “Did you tell him about me?”
Hattie hurried up the stairs and rubbed her hand over the younger woman’s shoulder. “You need not worry, dear. Caleb works at the movie studio nearby. The cook at the studio wants to buy some of my baked goods and eggs. We did not mention you.”
Hattie glanced back. “Come inside, Zeke. You need to eat.”
His aunt was right. He was hungry.
Climbing the porch steps, Zeke smiled at the newcomer, hoping to ease the tension that lined her pretty face. Her brow was tight with concern as she narrowed her gaze and stepped closer.
“Could there have been an accident on the mountain?” she asked, rubbing her arms as if she was cold.
Which he had not considered. An overturned buggy could be the reason for the blood on the woman’s dress and the lump on her head, yet Becca had mentioned being chased through the woods. Could she have been involved in a buggy accident, as well?
Zeke looked again at where the buzzards had flown earlier. Now they were gone. Had they found a carcass and were picking it clean? A horse perhaps?
His gut tightened.
Or something else?
Becca hurried inside and then turned toward the door as Ezekiel followed her into the kitchen. His smile had vanished, and the frown he had worn earlier this morning had returned to darken his gaze.
Hattie stepped to the stove and stirred the hamburger mixed with a sloppy Joe tomato sauce. The scent of the simmering meat filled the kitchen with mouthwatering goodness. She said something to Zeke in a dialect that made no sense.
Just as before, Becca nodded as if she understood and hoped her response was appropriate. She didn’t want Hattie or Ezekiel to know she had forgotten how to converse in the language common to the Amish.
Every thought that rumbled through her mind was in English, not German and not Pennsylvania Dutch.
Yet she was Amish. Wasn’t she?
Evidently, not a very good Amish woman. The plain people were nonviolent, which meant she shouldn’t have been running away from someone all the while wearing a dress stained with blood.
Something had happened in the woods. If only she could remember what.
Reaching around Hattie, she grabbed the coffeepot and poured a cup of the hot brew, then offered it to Zeke.
“Danki.” He raised the cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving her face. Her cheeks grew warm and a tingle curved around her neck.
Abruptly, he lowered the cup and headed to the table, for which she was grateful. His nearness had unsettled her all the more. She returned the coffeepot to the stove and glanced at the stairway, longing to retreat to the guest bedroom so she wouldn’t have to face her handsome rescuer whose mood swings confused her almost as much as her own lack of memory.
“Sit, dear.” Hattie motioned her toward the table. “The sloppy Joes are almost ready to serve. You can help me then.”
“Has anything new come to you?” Ezekiel asked as she slipped into the chair across from him.
“I have thought of nothing except what I cannot remember,” she admitted. “And still I remember nothing.”
Glancing down, she added, “I keep thinking of the Troyer family to which I must belong since the name seems so familiar.”
She dipped her head. “While you were outside, Hattie placed a wet tea bag on my eye to draw the swelling. As you can see, thanks to her home remedy, it is better.”
“Do not thank me, dear. It was the tannin in the tea.”
“All the while the tea was working, I thought of the Troyers and what they must be like. Hattie mentioned a Troyer family living in the valley.”
“The wife’s name is Ida, dear. She and her husband have five boys.” Hattie reached for a plate and heaped the meat mixture onto a bun, then held it out for Becca who hurried to the stove to help. “Serve Ezekiel first.”
Zeke nodded his appreciation when Becca placed the plate in front of him.
Hattie handed a second plate to Becca. “It looks gut, yah?”
“And smells delicious.” Becca stared at the fresh bun overflowing with the juicy mixture. Just as at breakfast, the portions were generous. “You’ve given me far more than I can eat, Hattie. This should be your plate.”
“You ate little this morning, dear. I do not want you going hungry.”
“Hattie, no one could go hungry in your house.” Zeke chuckled from the table. “You are a bountiful cook.”
His aunt seemed to appreciate the remark and said something in reply that Becca could not understand. A look of concern passed over the sweet woman’s face before she repeated the statement in English.
“Surely you know the Amish saying, dear. When the man grows the food and the woman cooks the food, both eat to their fill.”
Without commenting further on Becca’s inability to comprehend the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect, Hattie pointed to the chair across from Ezekiel. “Sit, dear, before the food grows cold.”
Taking her place at the table, Becca kept her hands on her lap, unsure of the midday meal routine. This morning she had started to eat and then noticed Hattie bowing her head to give thanks. She didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.
Once Hattie was seated, Zeke lowered his gaze. Hattie did the same and Becca followed suit. From the recesses of her limited memory a prayer surfaced.
Thank you for this food and bless all of us today, especially those who cannot be here. Bring peace to our hearts, lighten our steps and help us to do all things according to Your Holy Will. Amen.
She should have been relieved to remember something, anything, but recalling the short prayer only made her want to remember more.
Was it an Amish prayer that she had said with her parents as a child? Or a prayer she said with her own children? How could a mother forget her little ones, those she should love most?
Ezekiel said something.
She glanced up to find him offering an open jar of pickles. She jabbed one with a fork and placed the pickle on her plate. “Danki.”
Hattie patted her hand. “Is everything all right, dear? You look troubled.”
“I’m concerned about upsetting you both by being here.”
“Do not think such thoughts. We are happy to have you as our guest.”
Becca glanced at Zeke. His eyes were on his plate. He didn’t seem as enthusiastic as his aunt about having a stranger in the house, yet he had been the one to bring her here.
She shuddered thinking of what could have happened if he hadn’t found her.
“Is that not right, Ezekiel?”
He glanced at his aunt, his brow raised.
“I said that we are both glad to have Becca with us, yah?” Hattie prompted.
He turned his dark eyes on her again, making Becca’s breath catch as she lost herself for a moment in his gaze. If only she could read his mind.
She reached for her fork. “I am thankful you found me, Ezekiel. If you had not—”
