I call Suggs. “The eagle has landed.”

“You getting settled in okay?”

“So far, so good. I have power to charge my phones. I’m probably going to end up buying that bicycle, even if I can’t use it on snowy days.”

“I can pick one up for you.…”

“As much as I’d like to take you up on the offer, probably best if I can find one for sale by an Amish person. Might be one more way for me to make contact with the community.”

“I reckon that newspaper will come in handy after all.”

“I plan to get out and make myself known tomorrow.”

“Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll get it done.”

Next, I call Tomasetti and fill him in. “A fucking trailer?” he says. “I guess Suggs takes his budget constraints seriously.”

“It’s not quite as awful as it sounds.” I laugh because we both know it is. “Not the best accommodations but it’s close to all the places I need to be, including Schrock’s farm.”

He sighs. “You without electricity?”

“I’ve got access to electricity—there’s a trusty little outlet here—so I’ll be able to keep my phone charged.”

“That’s something. You’re keeping your twenty-two with you?”

“My new best friend.”

A lull ensues. I hear the TV in the background and I know Tomasetti is watching the news. I hear the wind tearing around the trailer outside and a pang of loneliness assails me. “I haven’t even been gone twenty-four hours and I miss you.”

“Kind of quiet around here without you,” he tells me.

“You’re not trying to tell me I talk too much, are you?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Another silence falls, but it’s thoughtful. “I miss you, too,” he says quietly.

“It’s cold as hell here. We might need to take that vacation when I get back. Someplace tropical.”

“I’m going to hold you to it, so don’t give me that I’m-the-chief-and-I-can’t-get-away line.”

“I won’t.”

“Will you call me if you need anything? Or if you get into trouble?”

“I will.”

“I’m only eight hours away, Kate. Four, if I catch a flight out of Cleveland.”

“I know. Thanks. I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Keep warm.”

* * *

At first light, I’m fully dressed in my Amish garb and bundled in my barn coat, muck boots, and winter bonnet. I pack two of the crib quilts in a canvas bag, hoping to put them up for sale at the quilt shop in town. I’m craving hot coffee as I go through the front door and into a monochrome morning.

I didn’t sleep much last night. The trailer is poorly insulated and drafty as a cave. Even with two blankets, I couldn’t get warm. I could hear the coyotes yipping in the woods to the north, but they sounded like they were right outside my window. I spent most of the night huddled beneath the blankets, cursing Suggs and his bright idea of putting me up in a trailer. But as I make my way toward Roaring Springs, I have to admit it was a good choice with regard to logistics. The Walmart is about half a mile down the road. Roaring Springs proper is just a few blocks farther. Schrock’s property is just as close, but in the opposite direction. My dumpy little trailer home is the heart of it all.