Excerpt

Hannah Schwartz quickened her pace along the path from the farmhouse until she stood on the hillside peering down at the covered bridge. The Indiana winter wind pierced through the black wool cape she wore. She played nervously with the strings on her bonnet.

Had he come already? Oh, she shouldn’t be here. Mamm would be so unhappy with her. But Hannah had made this choice for a good reason.

Flanked by bare maple trees, the opening yawned ahead. She stepped onto the planks of the bridge. A lingering odor of gasoline exhaust made her sneeze three times.

Pausing, she waited until her eyes adjusted to the deeper gloom. She didn’t need light. The interior of the covered bridge was as familiar to her as her own bedroom. Reece would be along in a few minutes. She shivered, but not from the February chill that swept down off the hills of Parke County, Indiana.

It was wrong to be here. If her parents knew . . . and Noah.

She paced the wide wooden boards of the covered bridge, pausing occasionally to listen for the sound of Reece’s truck. She’d expected him to be here waiting for her like usual. If he didn’t come soon, she would have to go back.

She heard an engine and turned with an eager smile, only to face two men she’d never seen, approaching in a small four-door car. She stepped up onto the footpath of the bridge and waited for them to pass, but the car slowed. The window ran down, and a man who looked to be in his thirties leaned out as the car stopped.

His blond hair was thinning on top, and his pale blue eyes gleamed in the light from the car’s dash. “Hey, pretty lady, need a ride?”

“No, I’m waiting for a friend,” she said.

“Well, your friend’s not here, but we are.” The door opened and he got out. The other man hopped out as well. He was about the same age and wore an orange hat. They approached where she stood.

Hannah shrank back. “My friend will be here any minute.”

The man’s smile turned predatory. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. “We can have some fun.”

“No!” She struggled to pull her arm from his grasp, but his other hand snaked around her waist. To her horror, she felt him grappling with the snaps on the back of her dress. “Let go of me!” Panicked now, she began to kick and strike at him.

Where was Reece? She opened her mouth to scream, but the man clapped his hand over it. She smelled tobacco on his fingers and beer on his breath. He tossed her like a rag doll into the car and began to crawl inside with her. She kicked him in the face and scrabbled for the other door, only to find the other man there. A shriek tore from her throat. Hannah’s limbs froze. This couldn’t be happening.

Over the top of the seat, Hannah saw a truck blocking the end of the bridge. Reece stood between the vehicles, gun drawn. The car’s headlamps caught the gleam of his badge.

“Get out of the car!” he shouted. “Hannah, get out of the car.”

Hannah found the strength to grab the lock and flip open the door. The car reversed and backed quickly toward the other side of the bridge.

She lay on the wide wooden boards with the stink of car exhaust filling her lungs. Shudders racked her shoulders, and she rose painfully to her hands and knees. Her palms stung, and her neck muscles throbbed. Running steps sounded on the boards, and Reece called her name.

“I’m here,” she said, her voice trembling as hard as her limbs.

Then his strong arms were lifting her. He held her close to his chest, and she felt the way his heart pounded in her ear. His breathing sounded ragged, and she knew he’d been just as frightened as she. “You saved me,” she whispered.

“Again. You always are there at the right time.”

He cupped his palms on each side of her head and kissed her. “I’ll always be here for you. No one is going to harm my Hannah.”

“I can’t stay long. Someone is at home buying Mamm’s quilts. They’ll miss me in a few minutes.”

He tugged her toward the shadows. “Come sit in the truck with me.” He took her hand and led her to his pickup, a black Dodge he’d bought just last week. He opened the door for her, and she slipped inside. It still smelled new, and her cotton dress slid across the leather seats. She ran her palm across the supple leather. So beautiful.

Reece got in on the other side and drove under a walnut tree, where he parked. He clicked on the auxiliary power. Music spilled from the radio, his favorite, Creedence Clearwater Revival. “Bad Moon Rising” blared from the speakers behind her. He slid out from under the steering wheel and pulled her into his arms. His lips came down on hers. She wanted to savor the sensation of his strong arms, let the music blot out her misgivings. Noah had never even embraced her. It wasn’t allowed. This was wrong, too, but in this moment, she didn’t care. All she knew was the touch of Reece’s hands and the scent of the mint on his breath. She relished the mastery of his hands on her.

She was weak, so weak.

The thought of leaving her family made her lungs ache. Being Amish was as much a part of her body as the bone and sinew that kept her upright. Her life was about laughing and talking around the dinner table with loved ones, working side by side with her mamm. She’d never expected to find herself in this place, loving one of the Englisch when she was engaged to one of her own people.

“Hannah?” Reece reached his hand toward her. “Come back over here, honey. It’s okay. I won’t push you. I just want to take care of you.”

God would punish her if she accepted the invitation in his voice.

From somewhere, she found the courage to grab the door handle and yank it open. She found the motivation to turn and run toward home. Reece called after her, but she didn’t slow. The Bible said to flee temptation. The cool wind brushed against her face and shivered down her back. It slowed the blood pounding along her veins, throbbing in her head. Her feet grew lighter as she sped from the bridge toward home. Harsh breaths heaved in and out of her chest.

Scalding shame swept through her veins. What had she become? Could this relationship be good if it caused her to sin so grievously against her parents, against Noah?

The house was quiet when she opened the back door. Where were her parents? She walked past the wringer washing machine in the utility room and stepped into the kitchen. The empty lemonade packets she’d left by the sink still lay there. Her mother had promised to clean up while Hannah did the barn chores.

“Mamm?” Hannah called. Only silence answered her.

Her feet stuck to spilled lemonade on the floor. Her mother never would have left the kitchen in such a state. Had someone taken ill? Alarms began blaring inside her head, and she quickened her pace to rush into the living room, still calling for her mother.

Her eyes fixed on a bumpy quilt hugging the middle of the living room floor and, oddly, a jumble of feet poked out from under it. Her mind fought to sort what her eyes saw. A quilt she’d never seen lay on the floor, black but bright with her mother’s trademark hummingbird pattern. Datt’s size 13 black shoes extended from one side of the quilt, while Mamm’s size 5 shoes peeked out on the other side.

“Mamm?” she asked. Could this be a joke? Her father loved to tease. They’d hop up any minute, laughing at her gullibility.

Adapted from Anathema, © by Colleen Coble. Used with permission. All Rights Reserved.