For the first time, Tessa truly took in the woman’s face—the sharp angle of her high cheekbones and the graceful line of her neck. Her tidy hairline betrayed a thick, tawny mane disappearing in a widow’s peak under a gauzy prayer cap. Her dove-gray eyes were stormier twins of Jonas’s miraculous blue ones. They were the exact same shade as her plain gray dress and glittered diamond hard. In her outrage, Nora was strangely beautiful. Tessa clutched the wheel and met her gaze.

“Hear my words,” Nora said without preamble. She shot a quick look toward the barn. “I will not allow you to steal my brother from his family and the community where he belongs. Once he completes his work, you are not to set foot on this property. Do you understand? You will not speak to him or to my daughter ever again.”

Her cheeks flamed as if she’d been slapped. She never faced such naked hatred in her life. “I’m not stealing anyone—”

“Our family has suffered enough.” Nora thrust out a tense and quivering finger. “You’re reckless. Leave before you cause any more pain.” She whirled and strode into the house.

Tessa dropped her head against the headrest and gulped a shaky breath. Suffered enough? What in the world happened to this family?

Just as the front door closed, Jonas emerged from the barn. Smiling, he jogged to the van. “I thought I heard someone.” He hopped into the seat. “Did you see Nora?”

“No.” She threw the van into Reverse and peeled out in a cloud of dust. Her hair thrashed in the wind. With a trembling hand, she scraped it from her eyes. She hadn’t been ready. Not for that assault. She crushed the clutch, slammed into fourth, and barreled down the road.

Jonas drummed his fingers on his thighs. “Easy now. We don’t want another meeting with Officer Kunkle.”

She gnawed her bottom lip.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

How could he possibly think she was all right? Didn’t he remember what she’d been through? The roller coaster ride to which he himself added a few heart-stopping curves? “I’m fine.” His insistent gaze tugged like a child on her sleeve. She refused to look at him.

“Mind if I turn on the radio?”

“Whatever.” Once at her house, she trailed Jonas into the yard where he set immediately to work. Whistling, no less. She ignored him. She’d just about had it with the entire Amish population of central Pennsylvania. Besides, she had her own chores. Not a drop of rain fell since the storm the week before, and the garden was parched. All summer, she lugged her mother’s cumbersome watering cans back and forth from the spigot on the side of the house to her flower beds. Not today. Her back hurt just thinking about it.