Ties That Bind Read Online Free Page B

several dollars would get me a cup of coffee, wouldn’t it?”
    He gave a solemn nod. “Anyway, I’m glad you saw me and came inside. I needed to tell you—”
    The side door opened, and Rudy stepped inside. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
    The kitchen and walled hallway ran parallel to each other, so she was thankful he couldn’t see down the hall. But what did Quill need to tell her? Was Frieda okay? Ariana clutched the candleholder with both hands, trying to stop it from shaking. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
    “You need help with something?” Rudy started toward her.
    “Nee!” She thrust her hand up. “Please.”
    He froze in place.
    This secret wasn’t like when she’d told him of her dream to buy the café. Quill was a bad secret. She needed to tell Rudy about him but not like this. “Rudy, would you wait for me in the carriage?”
    He angled his head. “What’s going on?”
    “Trust me?”
    He studied her, the seriousness in his eyes melting into tenderness. “Ya, with no reservations.”
    The warmth of his respect enveloped her. “Denki.” She was able to take a full breath again. “I’m fine, and I’ll be out shortly. Okay?”
    He nodded, but it was apparent he didn’t want to leave her there. When he walked out, he left the door open a few inches. He could hear her if she yelled for him, but the rain would drown out a normal tone. She turned to face Quill. There was only one question she wanted him to answer, one she’d ached to have answered every day for five years. “How’s Frieda?”
    “Good…better.”
    “Better?” What did that mean? Had she been sick?
    He stood his ground, his broad shoulders straight, his feet planted firmly in place, and he didn’t give so much as a shrug in response to her question. That was so typical of Quill. When he was in silent mode, a concrete wall had more give to it. She’d seen it a hundred times, maybe a thousand, but she’d never been on the receiving end of it, at least not in a way she’d recognized. Giving up on getting a satisfactory answer about Frieda, she asked, “What do you need to tell me?”
    “That I’m truly sorry.”
    The day he’d left they’d talked. Actually she’d railed at him, pacing beside the creek and flailing her arms, and he’d talked softly for almost an hour before she broke into defeated sobs. He had held her, his first time to actually touch her other than poking her a few times on the shoulder or pulling the strings to her prayer Kapp. He’d apologized then, saying he was sorry she was caught in the mess and if there was any other way to get out with Frieda, he would.
    She shooed away the embarrassing memory. Whenever she looked back, disgust at how vulnerable she’d been with him ate at her. She wasn’t that wide-eyed, trusting young teen anymore. “You apologized clearly five years ago before you disappeared.”
    “Ari…” He took a step toward her and then came to a halt a few feet outside the doorway of his bedroom. “Remember when I said that we have to allow people to make their own decisions about what’s right or wrong for them?”
    She remembered. He’d whispered it to her as he held her while she cried. At the time, his words brought a warm, hopeful sensation, causing her to believe she might survive what he and Frieda were doing.
    “When I left here, I promised myself I wouldn’t ever do anything that would hurt you again.” His voice carried grief, as it had for more than a year after his Daed died. “But like you used to say, the threads of your life are woven into the fabric of mine, and I…I’m truly sorry.”
    She didn’t understand. If she asked, would he answer? She doubted it. He seemed to enjoy tormenting her. As his words registered, they began to form into clues. For years there’d been rumors that a man returned at night to help Amish leave so that no one could hinder their exit. People called him the Amish Nightcrawler. Was that who’d helped Quill and