Amish Redemption. Patricia Davids

tightened around Mary’s neck. The roar grew so loud that Mary thought she couldn’t take it another moment. Her body shook with the need to run, to escape, to get away.

      As soon as the thought formed, the sound lessened and quickly moved on. Was it over? Were they safe?

       Thanks be to God.

      Mary tried to stand, but the man held her down. “Not yet.”

      She could hear the wind shrieking and lashing the trees outside, but the horrible pressure in her ears was gone and the roar was fading. In its place, groaning, cracking and thumps reverberated overhead. A thunderous crash shook the ceiling over them and the old timbers moaned. Hannah clutched Mary’s neck again. Mary glanced up fearfully. She couldn’t see anything for the darkness and the man leaning over her.

      He said, “Stay close to the wall. It’s the safest place.”

      She knew what he meant. It was the safest place if the floor above them came down. She huddled against the cold stones, pressing herself and Hannah into as small a space as possible, and waited, praying for herself, her child and the stranger trying to protect them. After several long minutes, she knew God had heard her prayers. The old boards above them stayed intact.

      “Is the bad thing gone, Mamm?” Hannah loosened her stranglehold on Mary’s neck. Her small voice shook with fear.

      Mary stroked her hair and kissed her cheek to soothe her. Somewhere in their mad dash, Hannah had lost her bonnet and her braids hung loose. “Ja, the bad storm is gone, but keep your face covered. The dust is very thick.”

      Hannah was only quiet for a moment. “Can we go outside? I don’t like it in here.”

      Mary didn’t like it, either. “In a minute, my heart. Now hush.”

      “We must let the storm pass first,” the man said. His voice was deep and soothing. Who was he? In her brief glimpse of him, she had noticed his Amish dress and little else beyond the fact that he was a young man without a beard. That meant he was single, but she didn’t recognize him from the area. He was a stranger to her. A Good Samaritan sent by God to aid her in her moment of need. She wished she could see his face.

      “Is Tilly okay, Mamm?”

      “I don’t know, dear. I hope so.” Mary hadn’t spared a thought for her poor horse.

      “Who is Tilly?” he asked.

      “Our horse,” Hannah replied without hesitation, surprising Mary.

      Hannah rarely spoke to someone she didn’t know. The current situation seemed to have erased her daughter’s fear of strange men, or at least this man. It was an anxiety Mary knew she compounded with her own distrust of strangers. She tried to accept people at face value, as good, the way her faith required her to do, but her dealings with men in the past had left scars on her ability to trust as well as on her wrists. Not everyone who gave aid did so without an ulterior motive.

      “I think your horse is safe. I saw her running away across the field. Without the buggy to pull, she may have gotten out of the way.” There was less tension in his voice. Mary began to relax. The worst was over and they were still alive.

      “But Tilly will be lost if she runs off.” Hannah’s voice quivered.

      “Nee, a goot horse will go home to its own barn,” he assured her. “Is she a goot horse?”

      Mary felt Hannah nod vigorously, although she doubted the stranger could see. “She’s a wunderbar horse,” Hannah declared.

      “Then she’ll likely be home before you.”

      Hannah tipped her head to peer at the man. “Did your horse run off, too?”

      “Oscar is in the barn. He should be okay in there.”

      Mary heard the worry underneath his words. In a storm like this, nowhere aboveground was safe.

      Hannah rested her head on Mary’s shoulder. “Are Mammi Ada and Bella okay?”

      “They are in God’s hands, Hannah. He will protect them.” The twister had come up behind them. Mary had no idea if it had touched down before or after it passed over the farm. She prayed for her dear grandmother.

      “I want to go home. I want to see Mammi Ada and Bella.”

      “Is Bella your sister?” the man asked.

      “She’s my wunderbar dog.”

      He chuckled. It was a warm, friendly sound. “Have you a wunderbar cat, as well?”

      “I don’t. Bella doesn’t like cats. She’s going to be worried about me. We should go home now, Mamm.” Mary hoped they had a house waiting for them.

      “We’ll get you home as soon as the storm has moved on,” the young man said as he stepped back.

      Mary’s eyes were adjusting to the gloom. She could see he was of medium height with dark hair, but little else. She knew that without his help things could have been much worse. He could have taken shelter without risking his life to help them. She had his bravery and quick action to thank for getting them out of her buggy before it’d become airborne. Just thinking about what that ride would have been like caused a shiver to rattle her teeth.

      He gave her an awkward pat on her shoulder. “I think the worst is over.”

      She tried not to flinch from his touch. Her common sense said he wasn’t a threat, but trusting didn’t come easily to her. “We are grateful for your assistance. God was merciful to send you when He did.”

      He gave a dry bark of laughter. “This time I was in the right place at the right time.”

      What could he find funny in this horrible situation?

      * * *

      Joshua was amazed at how God had placed him exactly where he needed to be today to save this woman and child, and yet six months ago the Lord had put him in a position that sent him to prison for no good reason. Who could fathom the ways of God? Not he.

      “I am Mary Kaufman and this is my daughter, Hannah.”

      He heard the hesitation in her words and wondered at it. “I’m Joshua Bowman.”

      “Thank you again, Joshua. Do you think it is safe to venture out?”

      A loud clap of thunder rattled the structure over them. “I think we should wait awhile longer.”

      The thunder was followed by the steady ping of hail against some metal object outside and the drone of hard rain. The tornado had passed but the thunderstorm had plenty of steam left.

      “I reckon you’re right.” Abruptly, she moved away from him.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be overly familiar.” Close contact between unmarried members of the opposite sex wasn’t permitted in Amish society. Circumstances had forced him to cross that boundary, but it couldn’t continue.

      “You were protecting us.” She moved a few more steps away.

      She was uncomfortable being alone with him. He couldn’t blame her. She had no idea who he was. How could he put her at ease? Maybe by not hovering over her. He sat down with his back against the old stone wall, refusing to think about the creepy-crawly occupants who were surely in here with them.

      She relaxed slightly. “Do you live here?”

      “I don’t, but my great-uncle did until he died a few months ago.”

      “I’m sorry for your loss.”

      “Danki, but I never knew him. He was Englisch. He left the family years ago and never contacted them again. Everyone was surprised to learn he had willed the property to my mother. She is only one of his many nieces.”

      “He must have cherished a fondness