Page 83 of The Hidden One

“I have nothing to say to you about that. I don’t know who these people are you’ve been speaking to, but they’re wrong.”

“I know you loved and respected your datt. I understand that. But I need your help. I need Mary Elizabeth’s help. If there’s anything at all you’ve heard or know about, if there’s anything you have in your possession—”

“My father was a strong leader. Ezra Bowman nearly caused a schism with all his backtalk and complaining. When he died, Jonas blamed my father. He lost his mind and killed him. And now here you are, blaming my father—and defending the man who killed him.” He tightens his mouth and looks away. “I think we’ve talked enough.”

“Henry—”

“No more questions.” He raises a hand, cuts me off. “Get off my property and don’t come back. You’re not welcome here. You never were.”

Turning away, he scoops up the wrench and disappears inside the silo.

CHAPTER 25

Twenty years before

The thermometer read ninety-two degrees the day I finished my chores early and went to the creek to cool off. For two hours it was just me and the sun, the smell of grass, and that rusty reel mower. By the time I finished it was late afternoon. I’d worked barefoot and my feet were stained green. Grass clippings clung to my sweaty legs. Mamm had taken the buggy and a bushel of sweet corn over to the neighbors, which gave me about an hour.

Mower stowed, I rushed inside for my bath towel and laundry-day dress, and set out across the pasture. Sweat dribbled down my temple as I entered the woods. A few yards in, the path widened and I caught sight of the water, dappled with shade. The earthy smells of growing things hovered as I made my way to the bank. I draped my towel and fresh dress on a branch, removed my halsduch, or cape, and hung that as well.

Swimming wasn’t practical with my kapp and dress. But the cool brace of the water felt heavenly as I waded in. The bottom was gravelly against my feet. Cupping my hands, I bent to splash water on my face, scrubbing away the sweat and specks of grass.

“Well, isn’t that a sight to behold. Katie Burkholder taking a bath.”

Gasping, I spun to see Jonas Bowman sitting on a log, watching me with amusement. I hadn’t seen him for a few weeks. I wasn’t sure if I was avoiding him or if he was avoiding me, but somehow we’d managed.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said.

“Is that so?” he drawled.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t stop thinking about the last time I’d seen him. That I’d behaved badly and now I was too embarrassed to face him.

“Need some help?” he asked.

I was standing in about three feet of water. My dress was soaked and clinging, the fabric cold against my skin. It wasn’t proper. I turned away from him. “If you wanted to help, you could have come over earlier and cut the grass,” I said.

“I would’ve if you’d asked.”

He wore a baseball cap instead of a straw hat. No suspenders. I’d heard he was on rumspringa and enjoying his “running around” time to the fullest. He looked older. More man than boy now. He looked more serious, too. Something different about his eyes.

“Mattie told me you’re w-working at the feed store,” I said, hating that I’d stuttered.

“Helping Datt, too. Saving my money. We built a hog barn, you know. Going to buy some sows down to the auction in Kidron.”

Leaning forward, he began to unlace his boots.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“What do you think?” He didn’t look at me. “It’s a hundred degrees. I’m going to cool off.”

“You can’t come in here.”

“Just going to get my feet wet.”

I looked around, not sure what to do. I wanted to grab my towel and dress, and run home. But even as the thought flitted through my brain, I acknowledged that I wasn’t being quite honest with myself. I might be terrified by the prospect of him coming into the water, but a small part of me thrilled at the idea.

Tossing his boots aside, he stood, his feet bare, jeans rolled up to his knees. He made a sound of pleasure as he entered the water.

I couldn’t look at him. Instead, I swept my hands through the water, watching the white flash of them beneath the surface.