Vow of Silence Read online

  He could almost laugh at fate’s cruel sense of humor. He hadn’t been back two full hours, and here Hannah was in his doorway. He didn’t respond, the air in his lungs still refusing to allow words to form. Silence stretched between them as he stared in dumbfounded shock at her standing there, holding the bedding. Her black dress covered her from wrist to ankle, only the dip of her waist, hugged by the strings of her apron, hinted at the curves that lie beneath the heavy fabric. Her eyes were fixed on the toes of the prim black boots poking out from the hem of her dress. Her prayer kapp covered her blonde hair. Pale wisps escaped at her temples. He wouldn’t allow himself to remember just how soft and silky it was.

  He should take the bedding from her and close the door before she realized who was in front of her, but fuck him, his arms wouldn’t work. As if he needed to torture himself just a little bit more, his gaze dropped to her hands holding the bedding. The plain gold band circling her ring finger made his stomach twist, killing any remaining appetite that had survived this morning’s crime scene.

  “Would you like me to come in and make the bed?” she asked when he said nothing, the silence growing awkwardly long. She’d yet to lift her gaze. If he could just take the damn bedding, she’d be on her way and none the wiser.

  “That’s all right. I’ll take care of it.”

  He forced his arms to reach for the sheets, but she flinched, a startled gasp catching in her throat. Those pale blue eyes darted up and locked on his. Recognition registered, and she took a reflexive step back into the hall. The bundle of sheets tumbled from her hands, scattering at her feet as she stared at him like she’d seen a ghost.

  Well, he was dead to her.

  But Joe hadn’t counted on her recognizing his voice—or, for that matter, his face. He’d let his beard grow from the time of his adolescence because he’d never considered himself an available man. Hannah had stolen his heart long before either of them had entered their rumspringa. The day he’d left Lancaster County, he’d shaved his face and had kept his skin smooth every day since.

  Seeming paralyzed by shock, her large luminous eyes bored into him, giving Joe his first full look at the only woman he’d ever loved. It would have hurt less if God himself had reached into Joe’s chest and ripped his heart out.

  How was it possible she’d only grown more beautiful with time? So different from the women of the secular world he lived in—it wasn’t until seeing her again that he realized just how much he missed that look of natural beauty, of innocence. As she stood there staring at him, her alabaster skin drained of color, she was flawless…like a porcelain doll. Just as delicate—and breakable.

  Eyes the color of the bluest sky stared back at him, but they no longer sparkled with the mirth of their youth. Where there had once been love, joy, and happiness, now there was heartache and grief.

  The impulse to reach out to her was nearly too strong to resist. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her he was sorry for so many things… Sorry for her loss, sorry for the suffering she must be going through. Though he could not touch Hannah or do any of those things, he could give her justice—and he would. The only thing that mattered now was catching this killer. Then, he would give her and those other families the closure they needed to move forward and start healing.

  “Josiah…”

  He closed his eyes against the ache in his chest at hearing his name on her lips.

  “What are ya doin’ here?” Her tone held a note of accusation, and he’d be lying if said he didn’t wish she looked more pleased to see him. “Have ya come home?”

  Come home? It wasn’t that easy. When someone left the fold, they couldn’t just “come home.” He’d have to confess his sins, and God knew there were many. He’d have to give up his career and the life he’d built these last eight years. He’d be required to join the church, and none of that was happening.

  Joe shook his head. “No. I’m here for Cassie.”

  Confusion marred her beautiful face—and maybe just a hint of betrayal. Her hand shot out, steadying herself against the wall. Shit, she looked like she was about to pass out.

  “Cassie’s dead,” she woodenly declared.

  She misunderstood him. “Hannah, please come inside.” He didn’t want to have this conversation with her out in the hall. She shook her head, denying his request. Because she no longer trusted him? Perhaps. A married Amish woman alone and behind closed doors with an outsider was forbidden. He knew better than to put her in that position, so then why in the hell was he?

  “You need to sit down, Hannah. You’re pale as a ghost.” She didn’t resist when he gently took her arm and guided her over to the chair near the desk. For her comfort, he left the door open. As they crossed the room, he tried to ignore the way her nearness affected him. God help him, after all these years she was still so familiar—like it was only yesterday that he’d held her in his arms…

  He told himself he was just trying to steady her, to keep her from falling. He’d become an excellent liar over the years. Even this simple touch scalded him, heating the blood thundering through his veins until he was sure he’d burn to ash. And he deserved no better, lusting after Hannah. Joe’s moral compass may not always point true North anymore, but he would never mess around with another man’s wife. He still knew right from wrong, and being here alone with Hannah was risking her reputation.

  She sat numbly, staring at the wall. Her blank expression made him wonder if she wasn’t going into shock. His hand shot through his hair as he paced the room, lapping the small area twice before squatting down in her line of sight.

  “Hannah—”

  “Why are ya here? Cassie’s dead…” she interrupted, repeating her statement with cool finality. Her voice didn’t sound nearly as fragile as she looked. In fact, she appeared rather pissed.

  “I know, Hannah. I know she’s gone, and I’m so fucking sorry.” She flinched at his vulgar slip, the curse flying off his tongue before he could bite it back. “I’m here because…” Shit, this was harder than he’d thought. “I’m here because I’m a homicide detective, and because of my affiliation with the community, the FBI asked me to assist the investigation of Cassie’s murder. I’m sure you know there have been others.”

  She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. Her hand was shaking as she hastily reached up and wiped it away.

  “I understand the people here haven’t been very helpful with the FBI. They don’t trust them, and I get that—”

  “They don’t trust ya, either,” she cut in, the edge in her tone sounding a lot like resentment. He supposed he deserved that.

  “Well, they’re going to have to trust someone or more girls are going to die. We found another one today. Hannah, there’s a killer out there, and he’s targeting Amish girls. We have no idea if he’s an outsider or…” He let the thought trail, having a hard time considering the other possibility.

  “Ya think he’s one of us?” Disbelief and accusation sharpened her voice, daring him to admit such a blasphemous thought.

  “I wouldn’t be good at my job if I didn’t consider every possibility. I’m going to need to interview you—and your parents.” The idea of sitting across from the man who ripped Joe’s life apart was about as appealing as a root canal. His hatred for Hannah’s father ran deep, and after eight years, that anger burned just as bright as the day he walked away from Lancaster County. “I know you and Cassandra were close. Your cooperation will be imperative if I’m going to catch your sister’s killer.”

  She nodded, seeming to understand what he was saying, even if she wasn’t happy about him being there. “I can’t speak for the others, but I’ll do anythin’ I can to help ya. I’d help the devil himself if it meant catchin’ Cassie’s killer.”

  Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. Joe was fully aware of the challenges this investigation was going to pose. Hannah met and held his stare, studying him until the silence stretching between them grew uncomfortable. She didn’t behave like a
woman living under her husband’s rule. His gaze dropped to the ring on her finger. She must have followed his line of sight because she moved her hand, tucking it in her lap.

  “I gotta get back to work.” Without giving Joe a chance to respond, she stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her apron, then turned to leave.

  “It was good to see you, Hannah.”

  She stopped, her back stiff, shoulders rigid. “Nothin’ about this is good, Josiah.”

  Chapter Six

  Hannah had all she could do to put one foot in front of the other and walk out the door. Her heart was hammering inside her chest so hard it ached. Dizziness swamped her as she fought to hold herself together, but with each step, her strength was slipping. She wouldn’t let him see her break—not again… Just a few more steps. He doesn’t deserve your tears.

  She pulled the door closed behind her and raced down the hall, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth to stifle the sob threatening to escape. She ducked into a vacant room and slammed the door behind her. Pressing her back against it, she succumbed to the weakness in her knees and slid down the door until her bottom connected with the polished hardwood floor.

  “It was good to see you, Hannah…”

  The husky timbre of Josiah’s voice had haunted her for years, and now she feared she’d never get the sound out of her head. Damn him! Another sob tore from her chest, and this time she was helpless to stop it. Is that what eight years with the Englishers had done to him—turned Josiah into a liar? And he did it with such ease she almost believed he meant those silver-tongued words. It was good to see you…

  Ironic, how she’d begged and pleaded with God that first year Josiah left to bring him back. Anything… That’s what she’d said. I’ll give anything… Apparently God has a long memory and a horrific sense of humor, because Jacob and her sister were dead, and here he was, back in her life now that she no longer wanted him. Had she brought this evil upon them with her impure thoughts and her unholy desire for a man who was not her husband? Common sense told her no, but a part of Hannah wondered what if… Maybe this all was her fault. She didn’t know anything anymore, except this one certainty: the devil was here in Lancaster County and he was collecting souls.

  …

  He fastened a second rubber band around the golden silk before wetting it beneath the faucet. Reaching for the bottle, he popped the cap and held it beneath his nose, inhaling the light floral scent. The smell aroused him, reminding him of Abby, his fragile little dove.

  He missed her. He missed all his girlfriends…each one possessing a small part of his heart. But it was only fair, since he possessed a part of them, too. He poured a ribbon of shampoo onto the mane of her hair and gently began massaging it into the snarled length. The scent of gardenia suffused the room as the white lather spilled over his hands, dropping to the bottom of the sink in white, foamy clumps.

  As he rinsed the suds from her hair, he mused over the unexpected development—a new player had joined the game—Detective Josiah Troyer…the prodigal son returned. Word traveled fast in Lancaster County. Already the gossip was abuzz. Things were about to get much more interesting.

  He shut off the faucet and carefully squeezed the water from his prize before folding the length in a towel. Turning, he carried his precious possession to the table where his tools were laid out—brush, comb, weaving loom…

  With infinite care, he began to comb her hair, working through the tangles and snarls, careful not to break any of the strands. She’d made a mess of it. A flicker of irritation sparked his temper at her thoughtlessness. What was she thinking, flailing her head back and forth, matting her pale golden strands as she fought him? He’d clamped his hand over her neck to hold her still, squeezing as he thrust into her over and over…

  He hadn’t meant for her to die—not yet, anyway—and the untimely loss left him oddly bereft. They were supposed to have more time together. His jaw clenched, molars grinding in frustration. He’d lost control—and control was what kept him safe. It allowed him to move among the sheep undetected. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes, especially now with this new detective nosing around.

  …

  Joe lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling that was yellowed and cracked with age. As exhausted as he was, sleep eluded him, his mind tormenting him as memories played like a movie reel running on a continuous loop.

  “Just tell me where ye’re takin’ me, Josiah.”

  His grip on her hand tightened at her tugging resistance, and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure her blindfold was still on. Her steps were hesitant and a little uncoordinated as he led her through the lavender field. Her smile was as brilliant as the sun shining down on them and warmed him in ways nothing else could. “I can’t tell ya. It’s a surprise.”

  “Ya know I hate surprises,” she complained, letting out a startled yelp when she stumbled on a patch of uneven ground.

  He caught her before she fell and swept her up in his arms. Her yelp turned into laughter that rang out across the field, the sound more beautiful than the melody of the birds in the air. “But yer gonna love this one. I promise,” he whispered near her ear. When his nose accidentally brushed the soft skin of her neck, her breath audibly hitched in her throat. The sound rolled through him like a caress, and he found himself grateful she was wearing that blindfold lest she see the evidence of how much he desired her.

  Quickening his steps, he carried her to the picnic he’d set up near the edge of the water. It had taken nearly every cent he had, but he’d managed to purchase this three-acre parcel, currently a lavender field, with a beautiful creek bordering the west property. It was to be Hannah’s engagement gift. He only needed to secure her da’s permission to marry her. He’d hoped to propose to her this day, on this land—the place he would build their home—but her da had gone out of town unexpectedly, leaving before Josiah could garner his blessing.

  “I hear water. Where are we?” she asked as he set her on the quilt.

  “Be patient. Ye’ll see.” he chuckled, stepping behind her and working to unfasten her blindfold.

  As the strip of cloth came free, Hannah gasped with delight as she took in her surroundings and the picnic he’d prepared for her. “A picnic… Josiah, this is perfect.” She leaned against him, and the way her backside nestled against him, there was no hope of disguising his need. He looped his arms loosely around her waist and rested his chin on top of her kapp.

  “I’m glad ya like it. I was fly fishin’ here the other day and thought this would be the perfect place for a picnic.”

  Turning in his arms, she looped hers around his neck and rose to her toes. Tipping those beautiful full lips toward his, she whispered, “This would be the perfect place for more than a picnic.”

  Lord forgive him, she tempted him like no other. Sometimes he wondered if she didn’t do it for sport, seeming to delight in his struggle for restraint. His Hannah was precocious and not nearly as concerned about her reputation as he was with his. Being the deacon’s son carried a weight of responsibility Josiah often resented. Just once, he’d love for her to be the one telling him they needed to wait.

  When he didn’t take her offered lips, a daring glint lit her bright blue eyes. Using her grip around his neck, she hoisted higher and kissed his cheek before spinning away to run into the lavender fields. Her laughter was light and carefree—the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He chuckled as he sat onto the quilt to watch her frolic in the flowers, dancing with the butterflies. So beautiful… So free-spirited…

  As she spun slow circles, the ties of her kapp came loose and the head covering tumbled to the ground. Wisps of her blonde hair came free from her bun and his breath stalled in his lungs as he watched her reach up and remove her pins. Reams of pale silk spilled down her back and he stared, mesmerized by her beauty. When the last of the butterflies flittered away, she ran back over to him, collapsing onto the quilt. Her glorious hair fanned out around her, her breasts straining against he
r top as her breaths sawed from her lungs. Her eyes matched the sky she stared up at him, smiling with such a carefree joy. His heart ached to touch her, to kiss her.

  “Beautiful…” The word left his lips before he realized he’d spoken. He’d never seen her with her hair unbound before and his hands ached to touch it. Would it be as soft as it looked?

  She rolled her head to the side and studied him, her gaze dropping to the hand he curled into a fist to keep from reaching out to her. A slow smile deepened her heart-shape lips. “Ya can touch it… If ya want ta.”

  He didn’t move, didn’t trust himself to. She sat up and faced him, scooting so close he caught a hint of her lavender scent. Her hair tumbled over her shoulder, falling into her lap. She watched him, anticipation dancing in her eyes.

  “Tis a husband’s honor…” he told her, his voice cracking with emotion. Lord, he wanted her. He’d marry her tomorrow if it were possible.

  “It’s all right, Josiah. I’ll be yers soon enough. Go ahead, touch it…”

  His hand shook as he slowly raised it. He’d yet to kiss her beyond a chaste peck on the cheek. His heart hammered; desire warred with propriety. Just this once, he would indulge temptation.

  Hannah stilled as he reached for her. His fingers slid into her hair. It was softer than he’d imagined—heavier, too, and so silky…

  She released a breath he didn’t realize she’d been holding, her lids flittered shut, and she tipped her head against his hand. Her lips parted on a sigh, her tongue briefly moistening the full bottom one. He couldn’t resist… Dipping his head, he pressed his closed lips against hers—

  Knock, knock, knock…

  Joe flinched at the knock on the door, yanking him from his reverie. His heart hammered against his chest as he muttered a curse. Exhaling a sigh, he scrubbed his hands over his face as if that would help erase the all too vivid memories playing through his head.