River of Mercy by BJ Hoff

happiness.
    She covered Mamma’s hand with her own. “Let’s not worry about that tonight. We both need to get some sleep. I’ll be all right, Mamma. Really, I will.”
    Her mother searched her eyes, finally releasing her hand and getting to her feet. “You’re right, of course. But first thing tomorrow we’ll talk with David—and Gideon, if he’s here—and work things out so you won’t be alone, at least until all this trouble is finally over. Are you sure you’ll be able to rest now?”
    Rachel stood, taking her mother by the shoulders. “I’m sure. I’m really tired, and I know you are too. You go on to bed. I’ll be just fine.”
    She watched as Mamma closed the bedroom door, listening until the sound of her footsteps died away at the end of the hall before sitting down again on the bed.
    â€œUntil all this trouble is finally over…”
    Would it ever be over? What was it going to take for the People to finally be free of the harassment, the malice, the evil that seemed to be creeping in on them more and more, like a poisonous mist, threatening their community, their peace, their very lives?
    Who was responsible for the other cruel acts that had occurred long before the breaking and entering of her house tonight—the barn fires, the theft of Mamma’s horses, and all the other hateful deeds, including the attack on Fannie and Phoebe Esch’s death?
    True, Dr. David said Phoebe had most likely died of a heart attack and that her death might have been accidental. But he made no secret of the fact that he believed it had been brought on by fear, given Phoebe’s disappearance and the condition in which they’d found her that awful night.
    Rachel thought she could understand that kind of fear. She remembered all too vividly how frightened she’d been the night she and Eli were attacked, the night he was beaten to death.
    And tonight…what if she had been at home when the intruder broke in? She hated to think about how terrified she surely would have been. The very thought made her cringe.
    Was all this the work of one person? Her memory flashed back to the day Fannie had been attacked by a group of Englischer boys on the road not far from home. In the middle of the day, that was! They had always believed what happened to her younger sister to be the work of a rowdy group of boys, just a prank gone bad that could have ended up as a terrible tragedy if Jeremiah hadn’t come upon the scene to rescue her.
    Jeremiah. How often he appeared when help was needed. Rachel had heard the rumors that perhaps the auslander appeared too conveniently, that perhaps he was the one behind the trouble.
    She didn’t believe that for a minute. True, Jeremiah was a big man with a powerful way and an air of authority about him, but she knew in her deepest heart that he was also a kind and gentle man who would never hurt anyone or anything if he could help it.
    She was thankful that those rumors finally seemed to have died. Even the few among the People who might have kept the vicious tales alive had apparently grown tired of the gossip and gone on to other murmurings and far-fetched ideas.
    She sighed and with an effort got to her feet. A few minutes later, while she was changing for bed, she heard the soft splashing of rain against the windows and on the roof. Somehow the sound intensified the lonely ache stirring deep within her.
    It was the same feeling she experienced each time she had to part from Jeremiah.

    Gant grumbled under his breath at the rain just beginning to fall. Of course, it might not be such a bad night so long as the wind didn’t turn wild. On the other hand, on this kind of November night in Ohio, the wind most likely would rise. In preparation, he closed the flaps on the buggy. He reached down and touched the oilcloth. He’d want it handy if he had to get out in the rain.
    Given the weather, it wasn’t