LITMIR.BIZ

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different question—what if he tried a different question? “Not until you talk to me. Where was Jessica before she died? Had she gone into the city? You know something, Hannah. I can see it in your face.”

      “You’re wasting your time, Elijah. Jessica is gone and there’s nothing to be done about it. Go back and tell your people that we do things differently here.”

      “I can’t. McClendon is on his way. The governor asked me to be here. Please, Hannah.” He stepped closer and spoke at a whisper. “Tell me what happened.”

      She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “I don’t need to know what happened to Jessica. Without her, I don’t even know if I care that I live. I have nothing left.”

      He swallowed hard. His heart ached for Hannah. More than ever he wanted to pull her the rest of the way into his arms and hold her tight. He wanted to let her release all of her pain and confusion. He wanted to remove her sweet prayer Kapp, run his hands through her locks of raven curls and remind her of how beautiful and precious she was. He wanted to press his lips to hers and kiss away her sorrow. But he knew she didn’t want him to. Maybe she never did.

      * * *

      Elijah’s firm grip on her arms gave Hannah a feeling of support she hadn’t experienced in many years. His breath brushed warm and soft against her face. She should not let him hold her so close, but there was no strength in her to push him away. Her brain was befuddled as his questions swirled in her head while his touch both comforted and frightened her. She wanted to tell him everything—about Jessica, about Peter, about how she could never have children. But fear kept her mouth tight.

      “Hannah, gehts-du innen—get into the Haus.” Thomas’s deep voice boomed across the porch.

      Hannah and Elijah broke from their near embrace. She turned to face her brother-in-law where he stood at the edge of the porch carrying a large satchel of horse feed that made his muscles bulge. He looked as angry as she had ever seen him. “Thomas, brother, you remember your friend, Elijah Miller.”

      “I do.” He gave a curt nod.

      “He has come to pay his respects,” Hannah explained.

      “Actually, I’m here to investigate your niece’s death,” Elijah said. “I was trying to get Hannah to talk about the day you found Jessica. From the pictures of your niece postmortem, it looks very possible that she was murdered. Some of the police feel the matter should be looked into. Perhaps you can fill me in on things? Hannah doesn’t feel she should talk to me.”

      “Looked to me like you were investigating something else.” Thomas eyed Hannah. “I am certain Hannah explained our wishes in both matters.”

      “Both matters?” Elijah’s confusion was apparent.

      Hannah shrank back toward the door of the cottage. She wanted to run into the house, but she knew that that would only make matters worse. How could Thomas bring up such a topic only a few days after Jessica’s death? It was not unusual for a widow to marry the unwed brother of her deceased. But nothing had been decided, and they had not talked about such a union in months.

      “Oh…oh…you—you are betrothed? No. Hannah didn’t mention that.” Elijah glanced back and forth between the two of them, then moved toward Thomas. “But no need to upset yourself, old friend. I’m here on business. Just after I arrived, shots were fired at the house. I think for your safety you should tell me what you know that could be relevant.”

      Thomas’s look of anger softened quickly into concern as he turned to Hannah. “Is this true? Someone shot at you?”

      She glared at Elijah, her mind full of his touch. How unaffected he seemed by the moment and the news that she was betrothed—even if it was false. She looked back to Thomas and tried to ignore the disappointment that weighed on her. “It is true, brother. You can see for yourself the broken window.”

      Thomas dropped his large pack and hopped up the steps. “But you are fine, no?”

      “Jah, I am fine.” She gathered her wits as best she could. “Mr. Miller has been kind enough to call your friend Chief McClendon. I believe he is expected soon, ain’t so? I will finish cleaning the glass and make coffee.”

      Hannah scrambled inside the house, leaving the two men to puff their feathers for each other. She was mad at them both. She had never promised to marry Thomas, although he had asked her once and she had requested time to think on it. And Elijah should not have taken hold of her in such a bold way, grabbing on to all her senses the way he did.

      That impulse she felt in that moment when she’d wanted to tell him everything…that was clearly just Elijah’s bad influence at work. Thomas had made the decision that they would not seek answers as to what had happened to Jessica, and it was her duty to follow his wishes. Elijah had no business asking her to open her heart and share her thoughts and fears with him. He had shown their community that he could not be relied upon when he left them all behind, abandoning his family and breaking his father’s heart.

      At least now Thomas was home and he could tell Elijah to leave. He did not belong there. He was no longer one of them.

      FOUR

      Evening came fresh and cool. After a large helping of Hannah’s hearty shepherd’s pie, Eli followed Chief McClendon and Thomas Nolt onto the front porch.

      He stopped at the edge of the stoop and looked into the clear night sky. He had forgotten how many stars one could see on a clear night in the country sky. He’d forgotten the rushing sounds of the wind, and of the leaves, and of the livestock milling about. Even the smells, he’d forgotten—that earthy blend of grasses and compost and animal and home cooking and unfinished wood.

      It’s true, Lord. Here, it is easier to see You, to hear You, to be with You. He breathed in deeply all the familiar odors and smiled up at the night sky. If only he could record all the sensations for when he returned home to the city.

      The other men’s voices pulled him back to the moment. Chief McClendon turned to Thomas. “I thank your family for such kindness to me this evening.”

      “Gut to see you, Chief. Not so gut, your reason for coming.” Thomas gave Eli a frosty glare. Then the two men shook hands like old pals, while Eli stood there, feeling about as welcomed as the Plague.

      He had not expected a warm welcome from his old school friend and neighbor, but he hadn’t expected one quite this glacial, either. He supposed it was his fault seeing as the man had caught Hannah practically in his arms. Even though Thomas and Hannah were not engaged, as Thomas had insinuated, Thomas’s intentions seemed clear. At the very least it was readily apparent that he felt completely responsible for Hannah and very protective toward her. Hannah’s feelings on the matter were less obvious. She attended to Thomas as head of the household, but she didn’t show him any particular regard—not that Elijah was taking notes or anything. He couldn’t have cared less. He had no interest in Hannah. He’d just been trying to get her to talk to him, and if Thomas hadn’t shown up when he did, she would have. He was sure of it.

      Eli glanced through the broken window at her, washing up dishes in the kitchen. She turned as if aware of him, offered a smile, then quickly averted her eyes back to her work.

      Right. He felt nothing for her. The spike in his pulse must have been agitated nerves from his unexpected return to Willow Trace. Eli sighed and tried to focus once again on the case. “So, Hannah found the girl as I saw her in the pictures that you, Chief McClendon, took and filed away without further inquiry?”

      McClendon shook his head, some regret in his expression. “I’ve been working with the Plain folk long enough to know what is acceptable. I do try not to interfere, but this case is different. I don’t feel comfortable simply walking away. Thomas, consider making allowances this time.”

      “We appreciate Chief McClendon’s respect. That is why Mr. Miller need not stay in Willow Trace,” Thomas said.

      McClendon

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