Hidden In Amish Country. Dana R. Lynn

she going to die, Dat?” The little boy’s voice trembled. It broke his heart to hear it. He wanted to say no, but he would never lie to his child. Nathaniel had already learned the hard truth of human frailty. Although Ben and his son did not speak of his wife’s illness, he knew that Nathaniel had not forgotten the agony of watching his mother waste away and die. How could he forget it?

      “I don’t know, Nathaniel. It’s in Gott’s hands. We have called the ambulance, that’s all we can do.”

      The ambulance arrived. Ben waved at them to pull up the driveway. A police car pulled up behind the accident, red and blue lights flashing. The paramedics jumped down from their vehicle and rushed to the young woman lying on the porch. With calm efficiency, they started checking her vital signs.

      “You shouldn’t move someone from a vehicle if you don’t know the extent of their injuries,” one of the paramedics informed Caleb and Ben.

      Caleb grunted, unimpressed. Ben felt it was up to him to give an explanation.

      “Jah, I know that. We smelled gasoline and feared it was too dangerous to leave her in the car.”

      He watched as they lifted the still-unconscious woman onto a stretcher. Something about her pale face surrounded by wavy light-brown hair tugged at him. Almost like a memory, but hazy. Hopefully they would find some identification in the car and be able to notify her next of kin. His mind again traveled to the hospital where he had spent the last day of his Lydia’s life. It had seemed to him such a place should have been filled with warmth to comfort patients but was instead filled with Englisch technology. The idea of the stranger waking up alone in such a place bothered him, although he told himself that it wasn’t his concern.

      He had done his part. He had made sure the emergency personnel were called. She was being well cared for. If she had family, they would soon be with her.

      It didn’t help. What if she didn’t have family?

      He couldn’t get the horrified expression on her face as she barreled down the hill out of his mind. Had she run into the tree on purpose to avoid the buggy?

      The police were finishing up their inspection of the car. The tow truck arrived and hooked it up.

      “Not that she’ll be able to do anything with this,” the driver remarked, chomping on a piece of gum. “I’m guessing the insurance adjuster will say it’s a total loss.”

      “Why’d she crash? Did you see what happened?” an officer asked Ben.

      He shook his head. “I saw her coming down the hill. It looked like she couldn’t stop, but that’s all I know.”

      The officers finished up, and within twenty minutes the street was quiet again.

      But Ben remained unsettled. Something about the situation continued to eat at him.

      “Dat. I found this.” Nathaniel held up something for his father to inspect. It was a cell phone. Ben’s brow furrowed. It had probably slipped from the woman’s pocket when he and Caleb had carried her to the porch. The Amish didn’t use cell phones, not even in their businesses. Their bishop allowed them to have a landline phone in their businesses if it was necessary, but cell phones were considered excessive. But from his interactions with them he knew that the Englisch relied heavily on their devices.

      It gave him an excuse to check up on her, just to make sure she was all right. The thought made him pause. It wasn’t like him to be so concerned about what was happening in the Englisch world. He had a few Englisch friends he’d made through his work as a carpenter, but he avoided any deep attachments. He had learned his lesson the hard way. He couldn’t rely on others to protect his family. And technology couldn’t always help. He had lost his wife and their unborn daughter when Lydia had been struck with cancer, and no amount of Englisch technology or medicine had been able to save them. All he had left was his son and he was determined to be careful.

      He would check on her, he decided, then he would leave. His conscience would be eased, and he would never have to see the woman again.

      His mind flashed back to the memory of the driver’s panicked face before she had hit the tree. She had obviously been aware of the danger. He couldn’t recall any of the telltale clues that she was trying to stop.

      His eyes flashed to the tree in question. The bark had been scraped off in several places. He could see bits and pieces of it littering the ground. Although the mangled car was gone, he doubted he’d forget the image anytime soon.

      Why hadn’t she stopped?

       TWO

      “Sadie? Sadie, can you hear me?” a strange voice pleaded, over and over again.

      Why wouldn’t he just be quiet? Her head was pounding with every word he uttered. Irritated, she dragged her eyelids open to confront the man who kept talking to her when she just wanted to rest. Two blurry figures stood beside her bed. That didn’t seem right. She blinked, and they wobbled before coalescing into one man. His messy brown hair and dark brown eyes gave her the impression of an excited puppy. He was obviously happy to see her.

      But who was he?

      Panic stirred inside her at the sudden realization that she had no memory of the man standing before her, a ridiculous grin stretched wide upon his face. He, however, obviously knew her.

      “Who—who are you?” she gasped out, feeling like the panic was a steel band around her chest, making it difficult to take in a full breath of air.

      His grin faltered and those brown eyes sharpened.

      “Are you messing with me, Sadie?”

      Sadie. The shock went through her. Her name was Sadie. The sound of the name was unfamiliar.

      “My name is Sadie?”

      The man’s formerly grinning mouth was now a grim frown. His brow was furrowed. Concern emanated from him.

      “Your name is Sadie Ann Standings,” he began slowly, as if her ability to process information had disappeared along with her memory. She fought the urge to sigh in impatience. “My name is Kurt. Kurt Standings. I’m your brother.”

      She’d forgotten her own brother?

      “You’re my brother?” she blurted. She didn’t doubt him, but it was so much to take in at once.

      He shrugged. “Stepbrother, but our parents have been married since we were both eight years old. When they married, my dad adopted you, gave you our last name. That was sixteen years ago.”

      Which meant she was twenty-four. Why couldn’t she remember any of this? He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. She jerked it away from him, then winced at the hurt on his face. Still, she was relieved when he didn’t try to touch her again. The thought of a stranger touching her so familiarly was disconcerting.

      “Here,” he said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and drawing out a picture. A young woman with light brown hair and a younger version of the man standing before her stood behind an older couple sitting on a couch, smiling at the camera. She glanced at it and then back at him, awaiting the explanation. He jabbed a finger at the young woman. “That’s you. This is your mom and my dad.”

      She looked closer and saw a clear resemblance between the two women.

      “Where are our parents?” Shouldn’t they have come the moment they heard she was in the hospital?

      His face grew sober. “I’m sorry, Sadie. Dad and your mom, Hannah, were killed in a fire two years ago.”

      The loss swamped her, even though the people he talked about were strangers.

      “What was your father’s name?” she asked softly.

      “Our