She saw an intersection up ahead.
Travel away from a tornado at a right angle. Don’t try to outrun it.
Bracing her legs against the dash, she pulled back on the lines, trying to slow Tilly enough to make the corner without overturning. The mare seemed to sense the plan. She slowed and made the turn with the buggy tilting on two wheels. Mary grabbed Hannah and held on to her. Swerving wildly behind the horse, the buggy finally came back onto all four wheels. Before the mare could gather speed again, a man jumped into the road, waving his arms. He grabbed Tilly’s bridle as she plunged past and pulled her to a stop.
Shouting, he pointed toward an abandoned farmhouse that Mary hadn’t seen back in the trees. “There’s a cellar on the south side.”
Mary jumped out of the buggy and pulled Hannah into her arms. The man was already unhitching Tilly, so Mary ran toward the ramshackle structure with boarded-over windows and overgrown trees hugging the walls. The wind threatened to pull her off her feet. The trees and even the grass were straining toward the approaching tornado. Dirt and leaves pelted her face, but fear for Hannah pushed her forward. She reached the old cellar door, but couldn’t lift it against the force of the wind. She was about to lie on the ground on top of Hannah when the man appeared at her side. Together, they were able to lift the door.
Mary glanced back and saw her buggy flying up into the air in slow motion. The sight was so mesmerizing that she froze.
A second later, she was pushed down the steps into darkness.
Chapter Two
Pummeled by debris in the wind, Joshua hustled the woman and her child down the old stone steps in the hope of finding safety below. He had discovered the cellar that afternoon while investigating the derelict property for his father. He hadn’t explored the basement because the crumbling house with its sagging roof and tilted walls didn’t look safe. He couldn’t believe anyone had lived in it until a few months ago. Now its shelter was their only hope.
The wind tore at his clothes and tried to suck him backward. His hat flew off and out of the steep stairwell to disappear in the roiling darkness overhead. The roar of the funnel was deafening. The cellar door banged shut, narrowly missing his head and then flew open again. A sheet of newspaper settled on the step in front of him and opened gently as if waiting to be read. A second later, the cellar door dropped closed with a heavy thud, plunging him into total darkness.
He stumbled slightly when his feet hit the floor instead of another step. The little girl kept screaming but he barely heard her over the howling storm. It sounded as if he were lying under a train. A loud crash overhead followed by choking dust raining down on them changed the girl’s screaming into a coughing fit. Joshua knew the house had taken a direct hit. It could cave in on them and become their tomb instead of their haven.
He pressed the woman and her child against the rough stone wall and forced them to crouch near the floor as he huddled over the pair, offering what protection he could with his body. It wouldn’t be much if the floors above them gave way. He heard the woman praying, and he joined in asking for God’s protection and mercy. Another crash overhead sent more dust down on them. Choked by the dirt, he couldn’t see, but he felt her hand on his face and realized she was offering the edge of her apron for him to cover his nose and mouth. He clutched it gratefully, amazed that she could think of his comfort when they were all in peril. She wasn’t screaming or crying as many women would. She was bravely facing the worst and praying.
He kept one arm around her and the child. They both trembled with fear. His actions had helped them escape the funnel itself, but the danger was far from over. She had no idea how perilous their cover was, but he did.
He’d put his horse and buggy in the barn after he arrived late yesterday evening. One look at the ramshackle house made him decide to sleep in the backseat of his buggy while his horse, Oscar, occupied a nearby stall. The barn, although old and dirty, was still sound with a good roof and plenty of hay in the loft. His great-uncle had taken better care of his animals than he had of himself.
Joshua hoped Oscar was okay, but he had no way of knowing if the barn had been spared. Right now, he was more worried that the old house over their heads wouldn’t be. Had he brought this woman and her child into a death trap?
* * *
Terrified, Mary held Hannah close and prayed. She couldn’t get the sight of her buggy being lifted into the sky out of her mind. What if they had still been inside? What if her rescuer hadn’t appeared when he did? Was today the day she was to meet God face-to-face? Was she ready?
Please, Father, I beg You to spare us. If this is my time to come home to You, I pray You spare my baby’s life. But if You must take Hannah, take me, too, for I couldn’t bear to be parted from her again.
The roar was so loud and the pressure so intense that Mary wanted to cover her aching ears, but she couldn’t let go of Hannah or the apron she was using to cover their faces. The horrible howling went on and on.
Make it stop, God! Please, make it stop.
In spite of having her face buried in the cloth, thick dust got in her eyes and her nose with every breath. Hannah’s small body trembled against her. Her screams had turned to whimpers as her arms 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 for her.”
“So it would seem. My father sent me to check out the place, as the letter from the attorney said it was in rough shape. Daed wants to find out what will be needed to get it ready to farm, rent out or sell. Unfortunately, it’s in much worse condition than we expected.”
That was an understatement. His father would have to invest heavily in this farm to get it in working order, and the family didn’t have that kind of money. They would need to sell it.
“From the sounds of things, it will need even more repair after the storm passes.”
He chuckled at her wry tone. “Ja. I think the good Lord may have done us a favor by tearing down the old house. I just wish He had waited until we were out of the way.”
His eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom. He could make out Mary’s white apron and the pale oval of her face framed by her black traveling bonnet. She sat down, too, pulling her child into her lap. Together, they waited side by side in the darkness. At least she seemed less afraid of him now.
The thunder continued to rumble, punctuating the sound of the wind and the steady rain. They sat in tense silence. Even the child was quiet. After a while, the thunder grew less violent but the rain continued. Was it going to storm all night? If so, he might as well find out what was left of the property and see if he could get this young mother and daughter home.
He rose to his feet. “Stay here until I’m sure it’s safe to go out.”
She stood, too, holding her little girl in her arms. “Be careful.”
He made his way to the cellar door and pushed up on it. It wouldn’t budge.
He pushed harder. It still didn’t move. Something heavy was blocking it. He worked to control the panic rising in his chest. He couldn’t be trapped. Not in such a small place. It was like being in prison all over again. His palms grew damp and his heart began to pound.
“What’s wrong?” Mary asked.
The last thing he wanted was to scare her again, but she would soon find out what was going on. He worked to keep his tone calm. There was no point in frightening her more than she already was. “Something is blocking the door. I can’t move it. Can you give me a hand?”
He sounded almost normal and was pleased with himself. If she knew differently, she didn’t let on. Having someone else to worry about was helping to keep his panic under control.
“Hannah, stay right here,” Mary said, then made her way up the steps until she was beside him. She braced her arms against the overhead door. “On three.”
She counted off and they both pushed. Nothing. It could have been nailed shut for all their efforts accomplished. He moved a step higher and braced his back against the old boards. He pushed with all his might, straining to move whatever held it. Mary pushed, too, but still the door refused to budge.
This can’t be happening.
“Help! Help, we’re down here,” she yelled, and beat on the door with her fists. He wanted to do the same.
Don’t think of yourself. Think of her. Think of her child. They need you to be calm.
He drew a steadying breath. “There isn’t anyone around to hear you. This farm has been deserted for months.”
“There must be another way out.”
He heard the rising panic in her voice. He forced himself to relax and speak casually. “There should be a staircase to the inside of the house. Hopefully, it isn’t blocked.”
“Of course. Let’s find it. I don’t want to stay down here any longer than I must. All this dust isn’t good for Hannah.”
She started to move past him, but he caught her arm. “You could get hurt stumbling around in the dark. Stay here with your daughter. I’ll go look. I’ve got a lighter, but I’m not sure how much fuel is left in it. Shout if you hear anything outside. No one will be looking for me, but your family will be looking for you, right?”
“They will, but not soon.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Maybe someone will see your buggy out there and come to investigate.”
“My buggy isn’t out there. Didn’t you see it get sucked up and carried away?”
“I didn’t. I had my eyes fixed on you.”
“No one is going to know where to look for us, are they?” Her voice trembled.
“It won’t matter once I find a way out. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” It was an assurance he didn’t really feel.
He tried to remember the layout of the building he had surveyed for his father. Although he had looked in through the windows that hadn’t been boarded over, he hadn’t ventured inside to explore thoroughly since his father was more interested in the land and its potential. Joshua didn’t remember seeing a door that might be an inside entrance to the cellar. Some older houses only had outside entrances. The most logical place for the stairs would be near the kitchen at the other end of the house.
As it continued to rain, water began pouring through cracks in the floorboards overhead. That wasn’t good. It meant a part of the house had been torn open, allowing the rain to come in. How sound was what remained? The steady rumble of thunder promised more rain. Would the saturated wood give way and finish what the tornado had started? He looked over his shoulder. “Mary, stay near the wall or in the stairwell, okay?”
“I will.”
Joshua surveyed what he could in the darkness. The cellar itself wasn’t empty. The only clear place seemed to be where they were standing. The cavernous space was piled high with odds and ends of lumber, boxes, old tires and discarded household items. His great-uncle, it seemed, had been a hoarder as well as a recluse.
Joshua had put a lighter in his pocket before leaving the farm in case he ended up camping out. It had come in handy last night and now he pulled it out, clicked it on and held it over his head. Gray cobwebs waved from every surface in the flickering light that did little to pierce the gloom. He couldn’t keep the lighter on for long before he burned his fingers, so he quickly identified a path and let the light go out.
Stepping around a pair of broken chairs, he pushed aside wooden boxes of unknown items. When his shin hit something, he flicked on the lighter again. A set of box springs blocked his way. Most of the cloth covering had rotted away. Mice had made off with more. Skirting it as best he could without stepping on the springs, he continued along the cellar wall. A set of shelves on the far side was lined with dust-covered cans, jars and crocks, but he saw no stairs. He finished the circuit and moved back toward where Mary was standing. He flicked on his light.
“Have you discovered a way out?” Her voice shook only slightly, but he saw the worry in her eyes.
They weren’t going anywhere until someone found them. He had no idea how long that might take. They could be down here for hours, days even. The thought was chilling. He stopped a few feet away from her and let the light go out. How did he tell a frightened woman she was trapped in a cellar with a man who’d spent the past six months in prison?
* * *
When Joshua didn’t answer her question, Mary’s heart sank. She knew he hadn’t found an exit. She bit her thumbnail as she considered their predicament. Her friends would be concerned when she didn’t arrive at the quilting bee, but they might assume she had stayed home to wait out the storm. When she didn’t return home this evening, Ada would become concerned, but she might think Mary had decided to spend the night at the Sutter farm. Ada might not even know about the tornado if it had formed this side of the farm.
Mary hoped that was the case. Ada had a bad heart and didn’t need such worry. It could be morning before she became concerned about them and perhaps as late as noon before she realized they were missing.
Mary’s adoptive parents, Nick and Miriam Bradley would begin looking for them as soon as their absence was noted. Miriam stopped at the farm every morning and Nick dropped by every evening on his way home from work without fail. He would know about the tornado. He would stop by the farm this evening to make sure she and Hannah were safe. Would he go to the Sutter farm to check on them when he found they weren’t home? She had no way of knowing, but she prayed that he would.
It might take a while, but Nick would find them. Mary had no doubt of that. But would he find them before dark? Or was she going to have to spend the night with this stranger?
Chapter Three
Mary shivered as she looked around the old cellar. If she had to spend the night in here, she wouldn’t like it, but she could do it. She would depend on God for His protection and comfort. In the meantime, she had to be brave for her child and make the best of a bad situation for Joshua’s sake, too. He was trying to hide his fear, but she saw it in his eyes.
“I noticed an old lantern hanging from a nail by the cellar steps. We should check and see if it has any kerosene in it.” She spoke calmly, surprised to find her voice sounded matter of fact.
“Good idea. I’ll see if I can find an ax or something useful to chop open or pry up the door.” Joshua flicked his lighter on. He located the lantern, took it down from the nail and shook it. A faint sloshing sound gave Mary hope.
Hannah tugged on her skirt. “I’m hungry. Can we go home now?”
Joshua leaned toward her. “You mean you want to go home before our adventure has ended?”
Hannah gave him a perplexed look. “What adventure?”
“Why, our treasure hunt.” He raised the glass chimney of the lantern and held his lighter to the wick. It flickered feebly for a second and then caught. He lowered the glass, wiped it free of dust with his sleeve and turned up the wick. The lamp cast a golden glow over their surroundings. It was amazing how much better Mary felt now that she could see.
“What kind of treasure hunt?” Hannah sounded intrigued by the idea.
“We’re all going to hunt for some useful things,” Mary said.
Joshua nodded. “That’s right. Let’s pretend that we are going to make this cellar into a home. What do we need first?”
“Chairs and a table,” Hannah said.
“Then help me look for some on our pretend shopping trip.” He glanced at Mary. She nodded and he held out his hand to Hannah. “I think I saw some chairs over this way. Don’t you like to go shopping? I do. This storekeeper needs to sweep out his store, though. This place is as dirty as a rainbow.”
Hannah scowled at him. “Rainbows aren’t dirty. They’re pretty and clean.”
He held his lantern higher. “Are they? Well, this place isn’t. It’s as dirty as a star.”
“Stars aren’t dirty, Joshua. They twinkle.”
“Then you tell me what is dirty.”
“A pigpen.”
“Yup, that is dirty, all right, but this place is worse than a pigpen. What else is dirty?”
“Your face.”
Mary choked on her laugh. Hannah was right. His face was covered in dirt. There were cobwebs on his clothes and bits of leaves and grass in his dark brown hair. It was then she realized how short his hair was. It wasn’t the style worn by Amish men. Joshua must still be in his rumspringa.
Mary had left her running-around years behind a few short weeks after Hannah was born. She had been baptized into the Amish faith at the age of sixteen, the time when most Amish teens were just beginning to test the waters of the English world.