Her Forgotten Amish Past

“For the idyllic setting.” Caleb spread his hands and peered at the surrounding area. “Plus Georgia is considered the Hollywood of the South.”

She shook her head with frustration. “Hollywood needs to stay in California.”

Glancing at the convertible, she added, “You must be careful, Caleb. Driving so fast on the winding roads is dangerous.”

He laughed. “Tell that to Zeke. There are more buggy accidents than automobile crashes on Amish Mountain. I bought the car because I’m working at the studio now.”

Hattie raised her brow. “You are a movie star?”

“Maybe someday. Right now, I’m working in the commissary. You should stop by sometime. I could show you around.”

“Commissary?” she asked.

“The dining hall where the crew eats,” Caleb explained.

“They are filming there now?”

“For the next few days, they’re shooting some extra scenes in town. The leading lady is being a little cantankerous. You know how temperamental movie stars can be.”

Something Ezekiel did not know. He doubted his aunt knew anything about Hollywood types either.

“Seems she left the lot,” Caleb continued, “and won’t answer her cell phone. The director is putting up a good front, but from what I’ve heard, he’s worried.”

“Worried she will not return to complete the film?” Hattie asked.

“That’s what I understand, although rumor has it she’s been difficult since filming began. Some folks thought the director was ready to fire her, but the producer stepped in and insisted the movie wouldn’t get the backing it needs without her.”

“An actress leaves before the filming ends?” Hattie shook her head. “I do not understand how that could be.”

“The ways of the world, Hattie, are not as the Amish live.”

“Ach, it is so.”

“I told Zeke that I stopped by for a slice of pie, but I really wanted to talk about buying some of your eggs. The studio cook who fixes meals for the cast and crew has been going to town for his supplies. I told him you might be able to provide fresh eggs from your chickens. I also mentioned your pies and cakes. He’s interested in purchasing your homemade desserts, if you have time for extra baking. You would be paid well for your efforts.”

Hattie thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yah, this is something I can do.”

Zeke touched her arm. “Are you sure you want to get involved with the studio?”

“What could be the harm?” She patted his hand as if to dismiss his concern and then turned to Caleb. “Yesterday, I baked cookies. You will take a dozen to the cook. He can decide if he is interested in buying my baked goods.”

Hattie hurried inside and returned with a filled cookie tin that she handed to Caleb. “You will let me know?”

“I’m sure he’ll agree to buy anything you can provide.” Caleb placed the tin on the passenger seat and rounded the car to the driver’s side.

Ezekiel glanced up and spied Becca at the kitchen window. Her expression made his breath catch.

“You mentioned the missing movie star,” he said before Caleb climbed behind the wheel. “What does she look like?”

“I’ve got a picture of her on my phone. She’s a nice lady, but evidently a little hard to handle. I downloaded her headshot.” He tapped his phone and held it out for Ezekiel to see. “There she is. Vanessa Harrington. You wouldn’t forget her if you saw her.”

Ezekiel took the phone. Hattie stepped closer and both of them stared at the woman filling the screen. She was attractive with long black hair, big brown eyes, high cheekbones and a mouth that puckered into a half pout, half smile.

Relaxing ever so slightly, Zeke handed the phone back to Caleb. “She looks to be in her thirties,” he said, hoping Hattie did not hear the relief in his voice.

“More like midforties, but makeup does wonders.” Caleb swiped his finger over his phone and held up a second photo. “Here she is with the producer, Nick Walker, and Kevin Adams, her leading man. The producer’s the big guy in the suit. The actor’s the bodybuilder with a beard.”

Zeke glanced momentarily at the second photo, noticing the younger man’s arm around the actress’s shoulders. The producer stood behind them, wearing a scowl on his square face.

“The producer does not look happy,” Zeke stated the obvious.

Caleb chuckled. “Mr. Walker is not known for his good humor. He and Vanessa spent a lot of time together from what I’ve heard. Evidently their so-called friendship has cooled somewhat.”

“And the younger man has moved in?”

Caleb shrugged. “Who knows? Although gossip at the studio is as plentiful as acorns on an oak tree.”

“Has anyone else gone missing from the studio?” Zeke asked.

“Not that I know of.” Caleb shoved his phone into his pocket. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. I presume the behind-the-scenes folks in the movie industry change jobs frequently. It is probably hard to get good workers.”

“I’m just glad they hired me.” Caleb opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. “I’ll stop by once I hear from the cook.”

As he pulled out of the drive, the kitchen door opened. Becca appeared anxious as she stepped onto the porch. “Did you tell him about me?”

Hattie hurried up the stairs and rubbed her hand over the younger woman’s shoulder. “You need not worry, dear. Caleb works at the movie studio nearby. The cook at the studio wants to buy some of my baked goods and eggs. We did not mention you.”

Hattie glanced back. “Come inside, Zeke. You need to eat.”

His aunt was right. He was hungry.

Climbing the porch steps, Zeke smiled at the newcomer, hoping to ease the tension that lined her pretty face. Her brow was tight with concern as she narrowed her gaze and stepped closer.

“Could there have been an accident on the mountain?” she asked, rubbing her arms as if she was cold.

Which he had not considered. An overturned buggy could be the reason for the blood on the woman’s dress and the lump on her head, yet Becca had mentioned being chased through the woods. Could she have been involved in a buggy accident, as well?

Zeke looked again at where the buzzards had flown earlier. Now they were gone. Had they found a carcass and were picking it clean? A horse perhaps?

His gut tightened.

Or something else?

Becca hurried inside and then turned toward the door as Ezekiel followed her into the kitchen. His smile had vanished, and the frown he had worn earlier this morning had returned to darken his gaze.

Hattie stepped to the stove and stirred the hamburger mixed with a sloppy Joe tomato sauce. The scent of the simmering meat filled the kitchen with mouthwatering goodness. She said something to Zeke in a dialect that made no sense.

Just as before, Becca nodded as if she understood and hoped her response was appropriate. She didn’t want Hattie or Ezekiel to know she had forgotten how to converse in the language common to the Amish.

Every thought that rumbled through her mind was in English, not German and not Pennsylvania Dutch.

Yet she was Amish. Wasn’t she?

Evidently, not a very good Amish woman. The plain people were nonviolent, which meant she shouldn’t have been running away from someone all the while wearing a dress stained with blood.

Something had happened in the woods. If only she could remember what.

Reaching around Hattie, she grabbed the coffeepot and poured a cup of the hot brew, then offered it to Zeke.

“Danki.” He raised the cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving her face. Her cheeks grew warm and a tingle curved around her neck.

Abruptly, he lowered the cup and headed to the table, for which she was grateful. His nearness had unsettled her all the more. She returned the coffeepot to the stove and glanced at the stairway, longing to retreat to the guest bedroom so she wouldn’t have to face her handsome rescuer whose mood swings confused her almost as much as her own lack of memory.

“Sit, dear.” Hattie motioned her toward the table. “The sloppy Joes are almost ready to serve. You can help me then.”

“Has anything new come to you?” Ezekiel asked as she slipped into the chair across from him.

“I have thought of nothing except what I cannot remember,” she admitted. “And still I remember nothing.”

Glancing down, she added, “I keep thinking of the Troyer family to which I must belong since the name seems so familiar.”

She dipped her head. “While you were outside, Hattie placed a wet tea bag on my eye to draw the swelling. As you can see, thanks to her home remedy, it is better.”

“Do not thank me, dear. It was the tannin in the tea.”

“All the while the tea was working, I thought of the Troyers and what they must be like. Hattie mentioned a Troyer family living in the valley.”

“The wife’s name is Ida, dear. She and her husband have five boys.” Hattie reached for a plate and heaped the meat mixture onto a bun, then held it out for Becca who hurried to the stove to help. “Serve Ezekiel first.”

Zeke nodded his appreciation when Becca placed the plate in front of him.

Hattie handed a second plate to Becca. “It looks gut, yah?”

“And smells delicious.” Becca stared at the fresh bun overflowing with the juicy mixture. Just as at breakfast, the portions were generous. “You’ve given me far more than I can eat, Hattie. This should be your plate.”

“You ate little this morning, dear. I do not want you going hungry.”

“Hattie, no one could go hungry in your house.” Zeke chuckled from the table. “You are a bountiful cook.”

His aunt seemed to appreciate the remark and said something in reply that Becca could not understand. A look of concern passed over the sweet woman’s face before she repeated the statement in English.

“Surely you know the Amish saying, dear. When the man grows the food and the woman cooks the food, both eat to their fill.”

Without commenting further on Becca’s inability to comprehend the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect, Hattie pointed to the chair across from Ezekiel. “Sit, dear, before the food grows cold.”

Taking her place at the table, Becca kept her hands on her lap, unsure of the midday meal routine. This morning she had started to eat and then noticed Hattie bowing her head to give thanks. She didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

Once Hattie was seated, Zeke lowered his gaze. Hattie did the same and Becca followed suit. From the recesses of her limited memory a prayer surfaced.

Thank you for this food and bless all of us today, especially those who cannot be here. Bring peace to our hearts, lighten our steps and help us to do all things according to Your Holy Will. Amen.

She should have been relieved to remember something, anything, but recalling the short prayer only made her want to remember more.

Was it an Amish prayer that she had said with her parents as a child? Or a prayer she said with her own children? How could a mother forget her little ones, those she should love most?

Ezekiel said something.

She glanced up to find him offering an open jar of pickles. She jabbed one with a fork and placed the pickle on her plate. “Danki.”

Hattie patted her hand. “Is everything all right, dear? You look troubled.”

“I’m concerned about upsetting you both by being here.”

“Do not think such thoughts. We are happy to have you as our guest.”

Becca glanced at Zeke. His eyes were on his plate. He didn’t seem as enthusiastic as his aunt about having a stranger in the house, yet he had been the one to bring her here.

She shuddered thinking of what could have happened if he hadn’t found her.

“Is that not right, Ezekiel?”

He glanced at his aunt, his brow raised.

“I said that we are both glad to have Becca with us, yah?” Hattie prompted.

He turned his dark eyes on her again, making Becca’s breath catch as she lost herself for a moment in his gaze. If only she could read his mind.

She reached for her fork. “I am thankful you found me, Ezekiel. If you had not—”

She couldn’t go on. Her mind failed to remember the past, yet it could bring forward terrible thoughts of what could have happened last night.

“All things work together for good,” Hattie intoned with a definitive nod of her head.

Becca wasn’t as sure. She took a bite of the meat mixture, but the food stuck in her throat. More than anything, she wanted to push back from the table and run upstairs to hide from Zeke’s dark eyes and all the questions she saw in his troubled gaze.

She didn’t want to bother this man and his aunt any longer, but before leaving, she needed to find out who she was, no matter how difficult the truth might be to accept.

“Did I hear you mention a nearby town?” she asked, needing something on which to focus other than the man sitting across the table from her.

“Yah, Willkommen,” Hattie answered. “It is some miles away. Does the name sound familiar, dear?”

“Regrettably, nothing sounds familiar.”

Zeke reached for his coffee cup. “You wish to go there?”

“It might help me remember if something triggers my memory.”

“Willkommen has a sheriff,” Hattie mused. “He might know of anyone who is missing.”

“You mean he might have information regarding who I am and where I live?”

Hattie leaned closer. “Yah, but I must warn you, dear. If you go to town and ask questions, you could find more than you want to know.”

“I don’t understand.”

She rubbed Becca’s hand. “Think, dear. You were running from someone last night. If you notify the sheriff, he could tell the person who was chasing after you.”

Hattie shrugged before adding, “A mean husband is someone to fear.”

Becca glanced at Ezekiel, then turned back to Hattie. “I don’t feel like I have a husband.”

“And how would that feel, dear?”

“I... I’m not sure, but wouldn’t I remember the man I loved?”

Hattie leaned even closer. “Perhaps you have a husband you do not love.”

“Yet if I am married, there could be children.”

Ezekiel’s gaze darkened all the more. The direction of the conversation seemed to be unsettling to both of them. “I will go to town and see for myself without involving the sheriff,” Becca said. “Perhaps then I will remember.”

“Ezekiel will take you in the buggy,” Hattie volunteered. “But you must dress so no one will recognize you.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“You should wear men’s clothing, dear. You are slim and not so tall. People would think you a young Amish lad.”

Hattie sat back and smiled with satisfaction. “Dressing as a man would be a perfect cover. Ezekiel’s clothing is too big for you, but I kept a few of my husband’s things. I will find something you can wear.”

Ezekiel stared at Becca, as if she had been the one to suggest the idea of dressing as a man. Hattie was right. The costume would keep Becca from being recognized, especially from anyone who might do her harm, yet the idea of needing to hide her identity from others when she didn’t even know who she was or where she lived weighed heavy on her shoulders.

The sound of a vehicle turning into the drive made Becca’s heart stop. Zeke glanced at her as if he too was concerned.

“Stay here,” he cautioned as he rose from the table and walked to the door, grabbing his hat before he stepped outside.

“Ach.” Hattie patted her chest as if patting down a swell of apprehension, which was exactly what Becca had bubbling up in her own throat. “I do not know who would be coming to see us.”

Hattie’s gaze narrowed, and she pursed her lips. Then, with a shrug of her shoulders, she added, “We go for days without visitors and now they come one after the other.”

Some friendly and some not, Becca thought, her stomach a jumble of nerves. Didn’t Hattie realize they were coming because she was here?

Hattie pushed back from the table, hurried to the sink and then peered from the kitchen window. “It is a tall man who steps from a van. The Montcliff Studio logo is on the passenger door.”

She glanced back at Becca. “I will go outside to learn the purpose of his visit. Perhaps it is the man Caleb mentioned.”

“Please, Hattie, don’t invite him in.”

The older woman nodded, then reached for the doorknob and stepped onto the porch, leaving the door ajar.

In spite of the cool air coming through the open doorway, Becca moved closer, hoping to overhear what was being said. Her pulse raced when she peered outside. A tall, muscular man stood by the van.

The footfalls of the man who had chased after her last night played through her memory. From the sound of him stomping through the underbrush, he had to have been a big man, tall in stature and with a bulky build.

Her gaze homed in on the Montcliff Studio logo on the side of the van. Apprehension zigzagged along her spine as she stared at the black-and-white graphic, longing to remember why it drew her attention.

The man walked to the front of the van, closer to where Zeke stood.

A lump jammed Becca’s throat as she saw the movie man’s long legs and thick build. Hands on his hips, he stared at the barn and then the outbuildings as if searching for something.

Was he searching for her?

Tears burned Becca’s eyes, but she forced them back. Why would an Englisch man from a movie studio be looking for her?

He extended his hand to Zeke. “The name’s Larry Landers. I’m the location manager at Montcliff.”

Zeke accepted his handshake without comment.

“The movie studio,” Larry added as if for clarification. “As you probably know, we’ve been here for the last six months.”

“I know about the studio, Mr. Landers,” Zeke said. “It is located higher up the mountain on Levi Gingerich’s land.”

“That’s right. We’re almost finished with the production of our first film and hope to begin work on our next project in a few weeks. I’m looking for farmland on which to shoot a trailer and a few preliminary scenes, maybe as early as the end of the week.”

“An Amish farm?” Zeke seemed perplexed by the statement.

Landers chuckled, although the gruff sound was anything but humorous. “I mentioned shooting, but not with a weapon, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Raising his hand, palm out, Landers quickly added, “I know you folks are pacifists.”

Becca heard disdain in the man’s voice.

“What I meant,” Landers continued, “was shooting the film. And yes, we’re scheduled to shoot an Amish story and are looking for an Amish farm, otherwise we might have to use someplace in town.”

He pulled a folder from the van and handed the packet to Zeke. “The studio will pay to use your property for a week or two, depending on the weather. We’ll need your authorization. Our landscape crew will arrive as soon as the contract is signed. Their job will be to enhance the property.”

“The land is as Gott provided, Mr. Landers. It does not need to be enhanced.”

“You’re right, of course. Be assured you’ll be compensated for your time and trouble.”

Zeke glanced at the contract, then closed the folder and handed it back. “The farm belongs to my aunt. She is not interested in your contract.”

“You didn’t read the offer.” Landers gazed at the barn and the pasture where the horses grazed. “You folks look like you could use some financial help. I can increase the payment by half to sweeten the deal.”

“Sweet or sour, there is no deal, Mr. Landers.”

“Look, I apologize if I’ve upset you. Perhaps if I talked to your aunt.”

Noticing Hattie on the porch, he took a step forward. “Ma’am, if I could have a moment of your time.”

“You would not hear anything different from her.” Zeke’s tone was firm.

“What about some of your neighbors?” Landers asked.

“You will find more farms in the valley. Some are owned and operated by Englisch farmers. Perhaps they would be willing to rent their land.”

The guy shook his head with frustration. “You’re missing an excellent opportunity.”

Again, he played his gaze over the barn, then turned and stared at the kitchen door for a long moment.

Becca drew back, fearing he could see her. If so, would he recognize her?

He hesitated for a long moment and then added, “Have you folks seen anyone from the movie studio wandering around in the area?”

“Why do you pose such a question?” Zeke asked.

Larry offered a half-hearted smile. “The relationship between the Amish and our studio is not the best. I want to ensure we don’t disrupt your way of life more than we already have.”

“No one unknown has come through my aunt’s property, if that is your question.”

The guy glanced once more at the house. Becca’s heart stopped. She held her breath, fearing he had seen her.

Abruptly, Landers turned and scanned the rest of the farm.

“Let me know if you change your mind about the land.” He shook Zeke’s hand, then threw the folder onto the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. Without further comment, he backed the van onto the road.

“Levi Gingerich never should have rented his property to those movie people,” Hattie groused as she pushed on the kitchen door and wiped her feet on the entry rug. Zeke followed her inside.

“Levi may have needed money,” she continued. “But we do not need a movie studio on the mountain. I have seen some of those people in town. They do not understand the Amish way. Plus, from what I have heard, they are a wild bunch who do not conform to Christian values.”

“You are lumping them all together into one pot,” Zeke cautioned. “I am sure the majority of the actors and actresses are gut people.”

Hattie harrumphed as she walked past Becca and headed to the stove. Zeke returned to the table without comment.

Becca’s heart beat erratically. The tall, muscular man had been looking for someone. Did Zeke and Hattie not realize he could have been looking for her?

She glanced first at Hattie and then back at Zeke. Grateful though she was for their hospitality, she was a stranger in their midst. A stranger with a made-up name and no knowledge of the life she had lived or even her age. A man had chased her last night, and she had been chased again this morning. Now another man with a haughty manner had stopped at the farm.

Tears stung her eyes, but they were a sign of weakness, at least that’s what a little voice whispered in her head. A voice from the past perhaps? How could she know what was memory and what was her own mind playing tricks on her?

“Becca, are you all right?” Hattie asked.

“If you don’t mind, I need to go to my room.” She left the kitchen and climbed the stairs, stepping into the bedroom just as the tears started to fall.

She closed the door behind her and moved to the window, wanting to ensure the studio van was out of sight. Her heart lurched when she saw the vehicle stopped on the side of the mountain road. Larry Landers stood in front of the Montcliff Studio logo on the side of his van. He held binoculars to his eyes and was staring back at Hattie’s house.

Becca jerked away from the window. Fear gripped her anew. Her pulse raced. Who was the man from the movie studio and why was he spying on her?

Pulling in a deep breath, she moved closer and peered again from the window. A black car like the one she had seen this morning had pulled behind the studio van and a bearded man with his hair pulled into a bun was talking to Landers.

Was he asking about an Englisch woman he had seen walking along the roadway? As she watched, the bearded man turned and stared at Hattie’s house, seemingly zeroing in on the guest room window. Again, Becca stepped back, her heart in her throat.