Kitabı oku: «Amish Christmas Secrets», sayfa 3
“Did you tell Mr. O’Donnell?”
“He would not listen. He said medication had been stolen, and...”
She hung her head. “He accused me of being a thief.”
“This does not make sense. Are you sure you heard him correctly?”
Rosie nodded. “He fired me, Ezra. He refused to give me my back pay and mentioned calling the police.” Her eyes widened. “I am frightened.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Do not be afraid, Rosie. You are safe now.”
Only she was not safe, and the danger seemed to be getting closer.
She laid her head on his shoulder as the tears fell.
“Shh,” Ezra soothed. Rosie was soft and warm and smelled like lavender. Everything within Ezra wanted to take away her pain and protect her from anyone attempting to do her harm. He pulled her even closer, wishing he could wipe away her tears.
“I wanted to say goodbye to Mr. Calhoun,” she whispered. “But when I went into his room—”
“What happened?”
“Mr. Calhoun—” She glanced up. Sorrow filled her eyes. “Oh, Ezra. Mr. Calhoun is dead.”
FOUR
Rosie’s head swirled with confusion. Seeing Mr. Calhoun’s body with a sheet draped over it had startled her. Foolishly, she had thought he was asleep. When she pulled aside the cloth, she realized her mistake.
His frozen gaze and white pallor had broken her heart. Unwilling to believe what she saw, Rosie had run to the nurses’ station only to be told what she knew to be true.
Tears came again. She leaned into Ezra’s embrace, feeling the strength of him. He rubbed her hand over her shoulder and clutched her even closer.
“Last night, he was fine,” she gasped between sobs. “He was in pain, but his vitals were good. I promised him help. Nan assured me she would track down the missing medication.”
“The nurse you spoke to, do you trust her?” Ezra asked.
“Why would I not? She is new to the home and eager to make changes for the better.” Rosie sniffed and swiped her hand over her cheeks, in an attempt to wipe away her tears. “This is all so frightening. First the man chases after me, and now a patient—a gut man—dies, and I am called a thief.”
“Perhaps we need to talk to the nurse. She might provide information about Mr. Calhoun’s physical condition, including any complications that may have occurred.”
As much as Rosie wanted to remain in Ezra’s arms, he was right. Nan could provide information about Mr. Calhoun’s death.
“Nan left the nursing home shortly before I arrived this morning. She may have been with Mr. Calhoun when he died. That would bring me comfort if he had not suffered and slipped away peacefully.”
“If that is indeed so.”
Rosie stared at Ezra’s questioning gaze. “You do not believe Gott called Mr. Calhoun home?”
“I am wondering if Gott had help.”
Rosie widened her eyes. “You think foul play was involved?”
“I do not know, but one thing is certain, you need to talk to Nan. Do you know where she lives?”
“In a new area of homes on the far side of the mountain. She invited me to visit and gave me directions.”
“I will take you there.” Ezra glanced at the door to the nursing home. “We must hurry in case the manager has called the police, as he threatened to do.”
Rosie’s heart sank. If Mr. O’Donnell involved the police, she might be hauled in for questioning. Would they believe her or Mr. O’Donnell, a well-thought-of businessman within the community?
Surely Nan would provide information about Mr. Calhoun’s death. Perhaps she would also shed light on why Rosie had been fired.
Ezra helped Rosie into the buggy and then climbed in next to her. He did not want to frighten her any more than she already was, but Rosie’s world was spinning out of control. If Mr. O’Donnell filed criminal charges, she would have a hard time proving her innocence, especially if medication had, indeed, gone missing.
An innocent Amish woman was the perfect scapegoat. Rosie did not have the wherewithal to defend herself against slander. Plus, she had been involved with a man known to skirt the law when it served his advantage. The Englisch would never realize how a woman who longed for love could be blind to the truth about the man to whom she had given her heart.
To make matters worse, she had been kidnapped and held captive. A weaker woman never would have survived, but Rosie had endured the months of her pregnancy and had delivered her child in a root cellar all by herself. Ezra called that admirable and heroic, yet he doubted the local authorities would see her in a positive light.
Ezra encouraged his mare forward. Instead of taking the main road out of the nursing home, he circled to the rear of the parking lot and turned onto a backstreet.
“Does this lead to the mountain homes?” Rosie asked.
“Yah, it is a bit longer in distance, but it keeps us out of the downtown area. If the man with the streak of white hair is on the road, I do not want him to see you.”
She lowered hear head and struggled to compose herself. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.
“After we talk to the nurse, I will take you home. We Amish do not talk about stress, but it is true that anxiety builds and rips us apart. You need time to heal.”
“I need to find out what happed to Mr. Calhoun,” she insisted.
“You also need to find out why the man with the patch of white hair is out to do you harm.”
“His name is Larry. I overheard the nursing-home manager talking to him.” Rosie wiped her hand over her cheeks. “I have so many questions. Perhaps learning about Mr. Calhoun’s death will provide a few answers.”
The community of newly constructed homes appeared on the distant hillside. “I remember when the mountains were covered with trees,” Ezra mused, thinking of the changes that came with the increase in population. “The town grows too fast.”
“Nan worked in one of the big medical centers in Atlanta. She wanted to enjoy a more rural way of life and moved here after she got the job at the nursing home.”
Ezra glanced around the side of the buggy and studied the road.
“Do you see something?” Rosie asked.
“No one in a white car, if that is your concern. I saw Larry in the nursing home earlier. I went inside to ensure you were all right, but the manager told me to leave. I mentioned wanting to visit Mr. Calhoun. Perhaps that is the reason the manager told me to leave. He knew Mr. Calhoun was dead.”
Rosie shivered.
“You are cold?” Ezra asked.
“Not cold. Just worried, especially since Mr. O’Donnell said he might call the police. What would they do to me, Ezra?”
“You have done nothing wrong.” He glanced at her, hoping to see more clearly into her heart.
Ezra considered himself a good judge of character, yet he had been wrong about people in the past. He did not want to make a mistake when it came to Rosie.
“You have done nothing wrong,” he said again. “This is right?”
She bristled. “Of course I have done nothing wrong.”
Could he believe her? Ezra hoped so.
Hearing the suspicion in Ezra’s voice, Rosie steeled her shoulders and pursed her lips, not willing to be undermined by a man who seemed supportive one minute and suspicious the next. She had revealed too much.
Earlier, she had appreciated his concern and the way he had offered comfort with his strong arms and his gentle, soothing voice. Since he had found her at the foot of the ravine, Ezra had been a rock in the midst of her chaos. Now she felt the exact opposite about him.
Ever since she had met William, her life had been anything but peaceful. The Amish way that she had loved during her youth had become confining and restrictive in her teen years. Was it William, with his free spirit, who had swayed her away from that which she knew?
She had been young and foolish. Everything that had happened—her capture and confinement—had changed her outlook. Now she had Joseph, her precious child, who gave meaning to her life. She had gained maturity through all the strife. Not the easiest way to grow up, but Gott knew what she needed.
Although sitting next to Ezra in his buggy after the death of a delightful gentleman had her questioning everything. She clasped her hands and kept her gaze on the mountain homes, unwilling to allow her emotions free rein.
“Nan told me her street is the second turn to the left.”
Ezra encouraged his mare onto the street. The steady pace of the horse’s hooves sounded as they headed up the hill. The neighborhood sat quiet in the crisp morning air.
The stillness troubled Rosie.
“There is no activity,” she said at last.
“The Englisch are at work, even the women,” Ezra explained. “Children are at day care or in school.”
“I hope Nan is home.” Rosie noted the numbers on the mailboxes and pointed to a house on the left. “There. That is the house number she gave me.”
Ezra turned his mare onto the driveway and got out of the buggy. He tied the reins to a tree and then helped Rosie climb down. All the while, he glanced around the area as if searching for anything suspect.
“You are worried?” Rosie asked.
“Not worried but cautious. As you mentioned, it is quiet here.”
They hurried to the door. Rosie knocked then glanced down the street, following Ezra’s lead. His concern added to Rosie’s unrest. She rang the bell again.
Just before she was ready to return to the buggy, the door opened. A very sleepy Nan stood in the threshold, rubbing her eyes, her red hair disheveled. “Is everything all right, Rosie?”
“I am sorry to bother you. You were asleep?”
“Not yet. I was getting ready to go to bed.” She glanced at Ezra and held out her hand. “I’m Nan Smith.”
“Forgive me for not introducing you,” Rosie said as the two people shook hands. “This is Ezra Stoltz. He agreed to drive me here. I came to find out about Mr. Calhoun.”
“Come in,” Nan said, opening the door wide.
Rosie and Ezra entered the foyer.
“I talked to one of the other nurses last night about Mr. Calhoun’s missing meds,” Nan explained. “We couldn’t find his OxyContin so I gave him a couple ibuprofen. I also called the pharmacy and left a message about the missing meds.”
“Did the other nurse know what happened?” Rosie asked.
“She didn’t seem concerned. I did a little investigating on my own and found Mr. Calhoun wasn’t the only patient with missing medication.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that Shady Manor has a problem. Many, if not most, of the patients had orders for strong opioid pain medication—hydrocodone or OxyContin—but when I searched the medication cart the meds were missing.”
“Had they already been given out?”
“Not that I could tell. I didn’t even know the opioids had been prescribed for many of the patients—patients who don’t have significant pain. I left a memo for Mr. O’Donnell.”
Nan’s forthright sharing about what had transpired last night convinced Rosie the nurse had left work unaware of Mr. Calhoun’s passing.
“Would either of you like coffee?” she asked as she ushered them into the living area. “I’ll fix a fresh pot.”
“Do not trouble yourself with coffee,” Rosie insisted.
“It’s no trouble.” Nan pointed to the couch. An overstuffed chair sat nearby. “Sit here. The coffee will not take long to brew.”
Rosie held up her hand in protest. “We can talk without coffee. There is something I must tell you.”
Nan stepped closer. “Is something wrong?”
“Mr. Calhoun died this morning.”
“Oh, no!” The nurse raised her hand to her throat. “I’m so sorry to hear that. He was in pain last night, but his symptoms weren’t life-threatening.”
“I went in his room to say goodbye—”
“Goodbye?” Nan narrowed her gaze. “Now I’m really confused. Are you leaving Shady Manor?”
“Mr. O’Donnell terminated my employment this morning. He said I had gotten involved in a situation beyond my job description. He also said I had tampered with patient medication and he threatened to notify the police.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were. He told me to leave immediately. I could not leave without saying goodbye to Mr. Calhoun. When I entered his room, I knew something was wrong. The nurse said he had suffered a heart attack.”
“Which may have occurred, although I don’t recall any record of a heart condition.” Nan shook her head. “He was such a nice man.”
Rosie agreed. “He said I brightened his days, but the opposite was true. He was considerate of my situation and always encouraged me to work hard so I could someday become independent and take care of Joseph on my own. His words were always filled with kindness and concern. You know I would do nothing to cause him harm.”
Nan rubbed Rosie’s shoulder. “You were a friend he looked forward to seeing.”
“But I do not understand what happened.”
“I’m working later today, Rosie. I’ll check his chart and see what it says. The coroner’s report won’t be back for days, but I’ll talk to the staff and see if they know anything about his death.”
“Will you be able to read the coroner’s report?”
“Perhaps.” She shrugged. “And I want to track down the reason his medication was missing as well as the pain meds for the other patients.”
“Can you talk to the pharmacist and Mr. Calhoun’s doctor?”
Nan nodded. “After I get some sleep. How will I let you know what I find out?”
Rosie glanced at Ezra.
“I will bring Rosie to your house in a day or two,” he quickly suggested.
A warmth settled over Rosie. Once again, Ezra had come to her aid. “It will not be a problem?” she asked him.
He smiled. “Perhaps then we will be able to ease your concerns about Mr. Calhoun. It will not be a problem.”
Rosie turned back to Nan. “We will see you either tomorrow or the day following to find out what you have learned.”
She hesitated a moment as a thought surfaced. “Perhaps I am being foolish, yet I must say this anyway. If you would be so kind, do not mention my name to Mr. O’Donnell. He claimed I interfered with nursing duties last night. Perhaps he feels I was too demanding in my desire to help Mr. Calhoun. Keeping my name out of the situation might be a good idea.”
Nan nodded. “You’re probably being overly cautious, but I won’t divulge your interest in Mr. Calhoun’s death. Especially since Mr. O’Donnell accused you of wrongdoing.” She patted Rosie’s arm. “I do not want to get you in more trouble.”
“Thank you, Nan.”
The nurse glanced at the wall clock. “The pharmacy will open soon. I’ll talk to the pharmacist before I get some sleep. I’m sure she can solve the problem about the missing meds. She may have information about Mr. Calhoun’s other medical problems, too. Perhaps she’ll let me know if he was prescribed any medication for his heart. I’ll also mention my concern about the number of pain prescriptions that seem unnecessary.”
Rosie was relieved, knowing Nan would get to the bottom of what was happening at Shady Manor. “By any chance, Nan, have you seen a middle-aged man with a streak of white hair at the home? His first name is Larry.”
“That sounds like Larry Wagner. He was in Mr. O’Donnell’s office the night before last. O’Donnell introduced us. Is he causing a problem?”
Rosie shrugged. “He thinks I have something that belongs to him, but he is mistaken.”
“He seems harmless, Rosie. I wouldn’t be too concerned.”
But Rosie was concerned, although she would not burden Nan with details about who Larry Wagner really was. A friend of Mr. O’Donnell’s who was out to do Rosie harm. She needed to be careful and cautious where Mr. Wagner was concerned.
Rosie squeezed the nurse’s hand. “I appreciate your help.”
“Like you, Rosie, I’ll feel better once the mystery is solved.”
After leaving the nurse’s home, Rosie followed Ezra to the buggy. She stopped for a moment to peer down the mountain. Shady Manor was visible in the distance. What was happening there that had caused a sweet old man to die?
Nan had mentioned a mystery, which was exactly what Mr. Calhoun’s death might prove to be. How did he die and why had his medication gone missing?
FIVE
As concerned as Ezra had been about Rosie at the nursing home, he was even more concerned now. Somehow by befriending Mr. Calhoun, she had gotten tangled up in a search for missing drugs.
The Amish tried to distance themselves from the Englisch world, but they read newspapers and stayed relatively current on issues that might have bearing on their own areas of the country. The drug epidemic that seemed rampant across the United States had touched the Amish community, leaving some of their youth addicted.
Will MacIntosh was involved with Larry Wagner. But what was the connection?
On the way home, Rosie kept her head turned away from Ezra. Was she weighing what Nan had said or was she thinking back to her time with Will?
“I keep wondering about the missing medication,” Ezra said, finally voicing his concern. “We both know prescribed drugs can be illegally sold for profit. Larry Wagner shows up and drugs go missing. He believes you have information that Will took from him. If Larry is involved in a drug operation, could that mean Will was involved as well?”
Rosie straightened her spine. He could sense her displeasure even before she turned to stare at him, her eyes filled with accusation. “How can you think Will was involved with drugs?”
“I was merely asking a question.”
She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “I do not know anything about what William did except that the man with the streak of white hair—”
Rosie hesitated. “Nan said his name was Larry Wagner.”
Ezra nodded.
“Well, Mr. Wagner believes I have something that Will took from him.”
“Drugs perhaps?’
She shrugged. “I had the feeling it was information.”
“Something that would incriminate Wagner?”
“Maybe. That seems likely.”
“Did Will give you any papers or files?”
She shook her head.
“What about pills? Or a wrapped container that could hold pills?”
“Nothing like that. He gave me a beaded necklace that broke the night he was killed.”
“Did Wagner have something to do with your necklace breaking?”
She shook her head. “Mr. Wagner did not break the necklace.”
Ezra waited for an explanation. Realizing she would provide no additional information, he turned his gaze back to the road. He did not want to unsettle Rosie more than she already was, but he needed to find out the truth about her relationship with Will.
“Did he break the necklace?” Ezra finally asked.
“He?”
“Will MacIntosh. Was he abusive?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that...”
Again she hesitated.
“Just what, Rosie?”
“Ezra, please. Some things are not to be shared.”
He pursed his lips and forced the frustration that welled within him to calm. Will was not the nicest of men and there was no telling what he had done to Rosie. A broken necklace could also symbolize a broken heart or a broken arm or a black eye. Had he been abusive that night, or told her to get out of his life even when she carried his child?
Ezra sighed. He was foolish to get involved with a woman who had given her heart to a dead man whose character could be embellished with time. Eventually, her memories of Will could become more grandiose than the reality of who he had been when alive.
Needing to focus on something more practical, Ezra clucked his tongue, encouraging his mare forward. He directed her along the back roads and away from town, but he was still worried about the man with the patch of white hair.
Ezra turned to glance back at the road they had just traveled. If they were followed, he had no idea where he and Rosie would hide. Last night, they had eluded Wagner by hiding in the woods. They were currently traveling on a road that butted up to fenced farm fields that offered no place to hide.
His chest constricted as he thought of the danger that could overtake them both. Driving Rosie directly home this morning would have been smarter than going to the nurse’s house.
“You are worried we will be seen?” Rosie asked, as if reading his thoughts.
He nodded. “Yah, it would be easy to spot us on the open road. The fallow fields offer no protection.”
“I have placed you in danger,” she said, her voice low.
“Danger does not worry me, Rosie, but I am concerned about your safety. Wagner was talking to the manager of the nursing home. What if O’Donnell gave out your address?”
“You mean the address to my father’s house?”
“That is exactly what I mean. The man could track you down.”
“My father will not let him into our house. Datt will protect me.”
Ezra nodded. “This is something for which you are certain?”
“Yah. My father would not let anyone harm me or take me from my home.”
“What about before?” Ezra asked.
“William MacIntosh did not kidnap me, Ezra. I went with him of my own accord.”
Because she loved him. Ezra knew that, yet he had half hoped Rosie would deny her feelings for Will.
They rode in silence, which only made Ezra more unsettled. Rosie was probably thinking of Will and mourning his death. Ezra wanted her to explain how she really felt, in case he had it wrong.
“Thank you for taking me to town and to Nan’s house,” Rosie said. “Thank you, also, for bringing me home. I have occupied too much of your time and must apologize.”
“There is nothing for which to apologize. I told you I had work to do in town.”
“Which you were not able to complete after I was fired.”
“Do not be concerned about me. You have enough to worry about with your own safety and that of your son’s as well.”
The Glick home appeared ahead. Ezra glanced around the property in search of Rosie’s father but failed to spot the older man. Mrs. Glick came outside, the baby in her arm. Even from this distance, the child saw Rosie and waved his hands in the air.
Ezra pulled on the reins. Before he could help Rosie down from the buggy, she was on the ground and heading to her son. Ezra watched her hurry toward the porch, feeling a sense of loss he had not expected.
Rosie stopped at the steps and turned, as if realizing he was watching her.
“Have you met my son?”
What? He shook his head.
She took the baby from her mother, kissed his cheek and then carried him back to the buggy. “Ezra, this is Joseph. His father was William MacIntosh, as you know. I made a mistake once, but I did nothing that would cause a man to come after me now. I have asked forgiveness from the bishop for my fickle heart, but I was not involved in anything illegal.”
“I never thought you were.”
Her lips lifted into a weak smile. “I am grateful for your help yesterday and today. There are few people who have reached out to me since I have returned home.”
“Are you sure it is the people who would not help or is it that you have holed up on this farm without returning to the community you knew?”
She hesitated. “What about you, Ezra? Do you join in the activities of the community or have you holed up on the mountain?”
“I have brothers and sisters who need my care.”
“And I have a son who needs mine. Perhaps we are not that different. Again, thank you.”
Before she could turn her back on him again, Ezra raised his hand. “I still have your bicycle.”
“I will not return to town soon so do not worry yourself about something that would probably be an impossible task. Sometimes that which is broken cannot be fixed.”
She hurried back to her house. Her mother had already gone inside. Rosie stopped on the porch and turned to watch him leave.
“Wave goodbye, Joseph.” She took hold of the baby’s hand and waved it in the air.
Ezra could not respond. Goodbye was not what he wanted to say. The word lodged in his throat and refused to be spoken. Instead he flipped the reins and encouraged his mare to turn back to the road that would take him away from Rosie Glick.
His leaving would be good for both of them. Rosie would remain with her troubled father and her mother, who always seemed fearful. The family would eke out an existence far from town and with only a few ways of interacting with the other Amish. They would remain distant, removed from the regular Amish community as if their daughter’s mistake had taken away their desire to live life to the fullest. Were they so guilt-ridden by her mistake that they refused to enter back into life?
Ezra doubted their Amish neighbors would consider the Glicks’s problems any more challenging than the problems other families had. Ezra could relate, as Rosie had mentioned. He had lived reclusively on the mountain and been unwilling to be baptized or involved in the social aspects of the Amish way. His sisters had suffered because of his closed outlook, but now he realized his mistake—he would give them the freedom they desired and needed.
Susan was of courting age. He would not stop her from falling in love and marrying and from making her own way in life. Belinda, when she was old enough, would make an excellent teacher, of this he was sure. He would not inhibit her desires any longer.
And the buggy shop? His brother would have to wait. Ezra was not ready to step back into the workshop where his parents had been murdered. Not yet. Perhaps in the future, although today as he left the Glick farm and traveled up the hill, he could not think of tomorrow, and it was too painful to think of the past, while focusing on the present only brought visions of Rosie to mind with her pretty blue eyes and blond hair.
He thought of her open expression and her willingness to reach out to an old man in a nursing home, as well as to give her heart to her son. But she had given her heart to someone else. To an Englischer. She loved him still, Ezra was sure.
Better that Ezra leave now before he think any more about Rosie. He would push her out of his mind, although he knew it would take time—time and effort, because saying goodbye to Rosie felt like a knife stabbing his heart.
Silly of him to have gotten invested so quickly, although looking back, Ezra realized Rosie had captured his interest years ago in school.
Now he feared if he stayed around her any longer, she might also capture his heart.
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