She nodded. Heck, she would have crossed her heart and pinky promised if he asked. Her elbows unlocked, and she released her fingers one by one from the steering wheel. Jonas caught her gaze—the cat that ate the canary—and offered his hand again.

Officer Kunkle stared for a long moment. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and with a pronounced eye roll, he shook and retreated to his car.

“I appreciate your kindness, sir,” Jonas called to his back. “And I’ll make sure my sister sets aside one of her finest pies for you and your wife.” He slid into the passenger seat with a grin.

Slack-jawed, she stared. “So, Samuel isn’t the only Rishel boy able to talk himself out of a pickle.”

“You might be right.” He whipped off his hat and twirled it on an index finger. “But you’re also wrong.”

Shifting into gear, she nosed onto Route 45. “How so?”

He snagged the hat and tipped it onto his head. “This pop-top can go over sixty without exploding.”

Maybe it could, but she was preoccupied with another discovery. It crawled across her brain like a televised news flash. This man, this Amish man, compelled her to take risks like no one before. She blew out a breath. That realization was far more unsettling than an exploding pop-top in the heart of the boonies.

****

A seemingly endless string of sunny days snapped when Officer Kunkle let off Tessa with a warning. When she hopped out in front of the farmhouse the next afternoon, the sky churned purple-gray and unsettled.

Barefoot, Rebecca tore across the grass and circled the van, chanting, “Pop-top! Pop-top!”

Spine rigid as a flagpole, Nora sat on the front porch bench, a yellowware bowl balanced on her lap and a bushel basket at her feet. Poised beside the open door, Tessa waved and smiled.

Nora just glowered as fresh, green peas flew from her fingertips.

With grudging awe, Tessa watched her work. Not even Nana Shiffer shelled peas so quickly.

Seconds later, Jonas emerged from the barn, lugging his toolbox.

His pace was slow, and his step was heavier than usual. Maybe she could encourage him not to work such a long day. She glanced at the sky. Maybe the weather would do it for her.

He stopped and spoke to Nora.

Tessa couldn’t make out the words.

The woman nodded, pressing her lips in a thin, hard line.

Rebecca slipped past her into the driver’s seat and clutched the wheel. “Did Jonas tell you about our journey to Ohio?”

Bracing for a shouted reprimand, Tessa shot Nora a look, but the woman was still talking to Jonas. “No, he didn’t.”