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“The car is unfixable?”
Out of all that, the only thing he took away was the state of her car? “Yes, Adam, the car’s probably shot.”
“Shot?”
“Dead.”
“You hold great affection for the car? How does a non-living thing die?”
Was this a joke? Did the guys set this up? Someone had to be messing with her. “Are you kidding me? What are you doing here? Why are you following me?”
“I wanted to speak to you.”
“About what? Did someone send you here?” Who would do that? She didn’t know any—
Her breath hitched. “Did my father...”
He frowned. “I’m not associated with your family.”
Right. She was really reaching. Her jaw trembled because she didn’t like feeling this out of sorts. “I have to go.”
“You’re upset. I can help you, Annalise.”
She scoffed and started walking, but not fast enough to lose him. “Really? How? You got a horse around back?”
“Very funny. Give me your hands.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Why?”
Rather than answer, he stepped closer and held out his hands, palms up. Then he waited for her. Letting out a frustrated breath, she dropped her hands in his.
“Close your eyes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“Just close them. Trust me.”
“I don’t know you,” she grumbled but closed her eyes anyway, the entire time berating herself for being so reckless and allowing a stranger to get so close.
“Imagine somewhere peaceful. Go there in your mind.”
None of this made sense. She had the patience of a saint when it came to Kyle. Where was her willpower with this guy?
“Anna, you’re not focusing.”
She huffed. “That’s because I’m not myself right now.”
“You can trust me.”
“Sounds like something Ted Bundy would say...”
“I don’t care about this Ted and neither should you. Humor me for a few seconds. Please.”
She huffed and pursed her lips. Her mind cleared and an image of tall, green grass filled her mind. In the distance, beneath an old tree, lay a patchwork quilt. She rested on the quilt, her back flat to the earth as the sun warmed her face. A cool breeze teased her skin, as if blowing over her now, and her pulse slowed.
“Your heart rate’s slowing down. You’ve been there before. It’s familiar.”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
She drew in a slow breath. “In a meadow, under a tree. It’s an hour before sunset and the sky is bursting with pink.”
“I see you there. Do you see me?”
In her mind, she opened her eyes and searched the horizon. “No. I’m alone.”
“Look again.”
In the vision, where insects buzzed low to the ground and the sky wavered against the heat of her earth, a dark form took shape. At first it was only a smear against the golden sky, but then it stretched into the silhouette of a man.
She squinted as the form took long, purposeful steps up the hill and the wide brim of a felt hat came into view. Then his torso and arms. The smudge of black against the fading sun washed away and Adam’s face was there.
She yanked her hands free. “How did you do that?”
“You have no reason to fear me.”
“I saw you. Just now. You got in my head, but...” It was like a visitor more than an implored thought. “Are you a hypnotist or something?”
“I’m Amish.”
She glanced at his clothes. No jeans today. The Amish garb lent an honest implication, but they probably sold that stuff on Amazon nowadays. Anyone could dress like that and call themselves Amish. If she bought a pointed hat, did that make her a witch?
“Why don’t you have a beard? And why are you hanging out at a bar?”
“I’m on a mission.”
“From God?” That sounded very Blues Brothers.
He smiled. “Yes, that’s correct.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I was being serious.”
Right. “Well, I gotta get moving. I have a bus to catch.”
He glanced over her shoulder. “You like coffee?”
“I’d be dead without it.”
“May I buy you a cup of coffee then?”
She hesitated and eyed him from head to toe. He didn’t seem to be hiding any weapons. How dangerous could an Amish guy be? “Don’t you have your mission to get back to?”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“I guess I could stay a little longer.”
“Good.”
He slid her hand over the crook of his arm—so very Victorian of him—and led her into the coffee shop. She was grabbing coffee with an Amish stranger on a mission from God. Totally normal.
The café was a monopoly knock off, hardly capturing the ambiance of Central Perk, but they served a damn good cup of jo. The barista worked the machine as a guy waited in front of them in line. She glanced at Adam, who watched her, and she smiled nervously.
There was an Amish market in Bristol. They made amazing pies. “Are you friends with the Amish in Bristol?”
“Bristol?”
“It’s a town a few exits down.”
“No. Our order is very old and private.”
Harrison Ford hung out on an Amish farm in the movie Witness. That painted a pretty clear image in her head, but Adam’s farm probably wasn’t as Hollywood.
