Alison Stone - Plain Outsider

“Take a deep breath.” He wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but decided against it. “Hiring a lawyer is a good idea, especially for the innocent.” Well, for anyone. “Don’t fight this alone. Reich has a lawyer,” he added, if she needed more convincing.

“I don’t know,” Becky muttered. Before he had a chance to respond, her cell phone chimed. She yanked the phone from her duty belt and checked the number. “I should get this.”

Harrison listened to a one-sided conversation. Obviously, someone Becky knew personally was in distress.

He reached over and touched her arm and mouthed. “What’s going on?”

“Hold on, Mag.” She held the phone to her chest. “My sister wants me to stop over. She’s concerned about a neighbor’s dog. Again .”

“Where does she live?”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to impose on you any more than I already have.”

“I don’t mind. I haven’t had any calls anyway.”

“Um, okay.” Then into the phone. “Hang tight. I’ll be right there.”

Becky directed Harrison toward a house nestled among a cluster of Amish homes. “Right up here. Park on the road along the cornfields. Better if they don’t see the patrol car.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

Becky scratched her head. “My sister. She’s worried about a neighbor’s dog that ran onto the property. It’s been an ongoing concern. The dog is hungry and not well cared for. We’ve suspected abuse, but I’ve handled it unofficially, returning the dog to his owner after they promised they’d take better care of it.” She frowned. “Obviously, that’s not working.”

“Wait.” Harrison angled his head to look up toward the home. A buggy was parked by the barn. An Amish family obviously lived here. “Your sister?”

“ Yah , my sister.” A twinkle lit her eyes. He had a feeling the amplified Amish inflection was for his benefit.

“Oh...” It was his turn to sound confused. “You grew up Amish?”

She pointed to her nose and said, “Ding. Ding. Ding.”

“Oh... Do you want me to wait here, then?” Harrison asked, suddenly feeling a little discombobulated. Amish? Really?

Becky hesitated for a moment. “That would probably be best.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. I’ll be right here.” Now he was repeating himself, completely caught off guard by her revelation.

Becky climbed out of the patrol car and strode along the road and cut in between the cornfields, as if to go in undetected. He had read somewhere that the Amish shunned those who left their ranks. Perhaps Becky was sneaking in because she wasn’t welcomed.

Harrison rubbed the back of his neck, replaying in his mind all the events that had transpired since he had held the door at the station open for Becky this morning. He hadn’t had much interaction with the deputy since he’d moved here less than a year ago, but he would have never guessed former Amish worked as deputies. Were there others?

Now the warning in Pennsylvania Dutch to “go away” made a little more sense. But how a woman went from Amish to sheriff’s deputy was beyond him. Maybe it was time he finally learned a little more about the Amish. And maybe Becky was just the person to teach him.

* * *

Becky strode up the dirt path between the cornfield and the neighbor’s property. She undid the buttons on her cuffs and rolled up her sleeves, hoping to look a little less official in her sheriff’s uniform. It was early enough that perhaps her parents would be too busy with chores to notice their wayward daughter had snuck in to meet with her younger sister out back by the shed.

She hoped.

But if she did run into them, she wanted to downplay the fact that not only had she jumped the fence, but she had also joined the sheriff’s department. Her parents didn’t need to voice their displeasure. It was a given, not that either of them had even discussed it directly with her. It was kind of hard to confront someone when you didn’t talk to them.

When Becky got to the shed without being discovered, she heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t think her day could get any worse.

Until it had.

Mag—short for Magdaline—was sitting with her back pressed against the shed, a mangy dog in her lap. At seventeen, Mag was the youngest of the Spoth family children. Three brothers separated the bookend sisters, two of which were already married. Only Abram and Mag still lived at home.

“Hi, Mag.” Becky crouched down and her heart dropped when she saw the pain in her sister’s eyes. Becky gingerly touched the dog’s matted hair. An unpleasant aroma wafted off the unwashed dog in the summer morning heat. Becky had to stifle a groan. “This poor dog found his way over here again, didn’t he?”

Mag nodded, her lower lip trembling, making her appear much younger than her seventeen years and reminding Becky of the preteen she had left behind almost six years ago when she decided the Amish life wasn’t for her. But now Mag was straddling childhood and the woman she would soon become. Would she choose to be baptized Amish or break their parents’ hearts as Becky had done? Mag was a big part of the reason Becky chose to stay in Quail Hollow. Sure, she left the Amish, but she couldn’t abandon her sister completely. Her three brothers had each other. Mag had no one.

Becky inspected the dog; open sores covered the pads of his paws. “He needs medical care.”

“I know.” Mag sniffed. “Are you going to make me return him, like last time?”

Becky looked toward her childhood home. She didn’t see any sign of her parents. “ Dat and Mem would want you to return him. He’s not ours.” Even as she made the argument, she wasn’t convinced, especially since the owner had obviously ignored her warning to take care of his pets.

“But he’s just a little puppy,” Mag said, her words trembling as she fought back tears.

“No one can treat an animal like this. There are laws against it.” Rage thrummed through Becky’s ears as she grew more convinced that she couldn’t hand over this dog to their neighbors. Not again. “Let’s go talk to the Kings.” The culmination of a few very bad weeks had suddenly reinforced Becky’s spine with steel. At this exact moment, she didn’t care about the consequences, not if it meant protecting this puppy.

“ Dat won’t like that.” Mag suddenly had cold feet despite her fierce need to protect the dog. “I’ll get in trouble for being disobedient.” Their father had told Mag to stop meddling in their neighbor’s business the last time the dog had wandered over. Becky heard the story secondhand when the sisters met in town for a quick cup of coffee. Their father wouldn’t have liked that, either, but he had never expressly forbidden it.

“I’ll take the blame. There’s nothing they can do to me,” Becky said. A look of admiration crossed her sister’s delicate features, something Becky both cherished and dreaded. She didn’t want to be a negative influence on her sister. Their parents also worried about her influence. Becky wasn’t welcome at her childhood home. Shoving the thought aside, she held out her hand and helped her sister up. “Let’s go.”

Magdaline walked alongside Becky, holding the dog in her arms, the fabric of her long dress swishing around her legs as she rushed to keep up.

Becky slowed and held out her arms. “Hand me the dog. I’ll confront Paul. You don’t have to get in trouble.”

Paul King, the owner of the farm next door, and Becky weren’t strangers. Far from it. But with their vastly different lifestyles now, they easily could have been. Not so long ago, he had driven her home in his courting wagon more times than she could count from Sunday singings. He confidently laid out the plans for their future, while silently she made plans for her own.