Amish Rescue. Debby Giusti

Hyde? Hateful one minute, feigning compassion the next.

      If only she could remember all the details of the carjacking instead of hazy flashes that clouded her mind.

      He leaned closer. “I told you about the bad men, Sarah, the men in your dreams. They captured your sister, but I’m working to get Miriam back before she’s transported so far away that you’ll never find her again.”

      Sarah’s stomach roiled, sickened by the horrific thought of her sister gone forever. All her life, Sarah had relied on Miriam in times of need. But it wasn’t just Miriam she could count on. Even her eldest sister, Hannah, had offered support, though the two of them had not been as close.

      “If Miriam can’t help me, then Hannah will.”

      He clicked his tongue. “She left you years ago. Remember, you told me how you cried after Hannah was gone.”

      Frustrated that he had manipulated even that information from her, she raised her chin in defiance. “I don’t believe what you said about Miriam. You’re wrong, Victor. She hasn’t been taken away. She’ll save me.”

      Sarah eyed the open door to the hallway. Without thinking, she shoved past him and ran toward the stairs.

      He chased after her, grabbed her arm and threw her down.

      Her shoulder crashed against the floor. She groaned, then scrambled to her feet. He caught her hair and yanked so hard she thought her scalp would rip from her skull.

      His other hand wrapped around her neck; all the while he pulled her hair until her face pointed to the ceiling, exposing her throat, where his fingers tightened, constricting her airway.

      She clawed at his arm and kicked, her lungs on fire. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t scream.

      “Don’t ever doubt me, Sarah.”

      Hot tears seared her eyes. She tried to nod, but the movement caused more pain along her scalp.

      Her ears rang, something gurgled in her throat, blackness swirled around her. Her knees gave way. In the split second before she would have slipped into unconsciousness, he released his hold. She fell to the floor, gasped for air and clawed her way back to reality.

      “Are you going to obey me?” he demanded, standing over her, hands on his hips and eyes glaring.

      She opened her mouth, hoping he hadn’t seriously damaged her vocal cords. A raspy “Yes” filtered out along with a whimper.

      “That’s my good Sarah.”

      She wasn’t good and she wasn’t his. She never would be. After her mother’s transgressions, she would never belong to any man, and especially not a crazed lunatic who had suddenly become abusive. His verbal threats had unnerved her and made her tremble, but until today, he had never touched her inappropriately or raised his hand in anger. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, all that had changed. She couldn’t fathom why. The only thing she did know was she needed to escape from Victor’s control.

      Not that she’d had an opportunity to elude him in the past. He kept close watch on her during the day and made sure she was locked away each night.

      With a huff, he yanked her to her feet. “Mother has been asking for you.”

      “She wants Naomi.” From what Sarah could tell, Naomi was a local Amish woman who had taken care of Ms. Hazel before Victor had brought Sarah here. Ms. Hazel repeatedly asked for her.

      “You’re taking Naomi’s place.”

      Something in his tone chilled Sarah to the core. “Wh-what happened to Naomi?”

      His gaze turned somber. “She disappeared, leaving Mother brokenhearted.”

      More likely, Victor had arranged for Naomi’s disappearance.

      He touched Sarah’s cheek. She turned her head away.

      “Listen to me.” He grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. “A man is bringing your sister here in a day or two. I’ll pay George off. Then you and Miriam can take care of Mother together. If you want to see your sister, do as I say.”

      His thin lips twisted into a hateful smirk. “But if you disobey me, if you try to escape, I’ll—”

      He let the threat hang.

      She uttered the first question that came to mind. “Then will I disappear like Naomi did?”

      He bristled.

      Evidently, she had struck a chord that rang a little too true.

      “I’m not afraid of you, Victor.” Could he hear the tremble in her voice?

      He leaned closer. “What if I turn off the power and use candles to light the house? Remember what you told me about the fire when you were a little girl?”

      Her chest constricted. She struggled to pull air into her lungs.

      “Do everything I say, Sarah, so you and Miriam can be together again, and so you can be safe. Do you understand?”

      She cocked her head and furrowed her brow as if listening to a rustling sound coming from the unfinished portion of the attic.

      He bristled. “What’s wrong?”

      “Do you hear them?” she asked, feigning an unfounded confidence in her voice.

      His face blanched.

      “Rats, Victor. They’re in the attic.”

      “I don’t believe you.”

      The fear that flashed from his eyes proved what Sarah had assumed was true.

      “Feed Mother her breakfast,” he ordered as he hurried out of the room.

      From the open doorway, Sarah watched him race down the stairs to save himself from the rats. If she could only escape as easily.

      Her momentary euphoria at having unsettled him was short-lived. Exhausted from lack of sleep and weeks of confinement, Sarah dropped her head in her hands. Hot tears burned her eyes. Would she ever be free again?

      “Send someone to help me, Lord,” she pleaded, her heart breaking at the hopelessness of her plight. “I don’t want to die trapped in this old house.”

      * * *

      Joachim Burkholder guided the buggy along the mountain road. He had come home like the prodigal son. Except he had not squandered money or lived a life of debauchery. He was, instead, coming home to reconcile with his father. At least that was his plan.

      Metanoia, some called it, a conversion or transformation, which was what Joachim had started to experience. Now, he needed to piece his broken life back together. He had tried to live Englisch. His heart remained Amish.

      Jostling the reins, he encouraged the mare forward. Together he and Belle had traveled from farm to farm to farm. Joachim had worked odd jobs and saved his earnings until his yearning to come home had caused him to slowly retrace his steps.

      Belle increased her speed as Joachim took in the rolling hills and lush valleys. How deeply he had missed the beauty of this land and the serenity of the Amish way of life.

      Gott, he silently prayed, forgive my obstinate pride that forced me away from family and faith when I sought to place my will above Thy own.

      The tranquil setting soothed Joachim’s troubled soul. He breathed in the loamy scent of Georgia clay mixed with fresh pine from the trees that dotted the side of the roadway. The cool morning air tugged at his black jacket and lulled him into a sense of peaceful calm that dissipated as soon at the buggy rounded the bend. At the bottom of the incline, a level plain stretched out in front of him. His gut tightened as he recognized this particular section of the road home he had inadvertently taken.

      Was he trying to add more burden to his already guilt-laden shoulders? Why had he guided Belle to the very spot he had never wanted to pass through again? Some memories