Free Adam's Bride by Lisa Harris

greet him. He’d been told a dozen times how closely he resembled his father with his coal-black hair and dark eyes with their hints of gold. He’d always longed to emulate his godly character, as well, something that at the moment was proving difficult to do.
    “I know you’ve been busy harvesting the sap, but we’ve missed seeing you.” His father enveloped him in a hug. “Michaela insisted I come out and check on you.”
    Adam took a step back and forced a smile. “You can tell her I’m fine, though I’ve been sick for the past week. That’s why I haven’t stopped by.”
    His father’s brow narrowed in concern. “If we’d known you were sick we’d have come to help earlier. You’ve just been so insistent on handling things alone—”
    “I know, and you were right.”
    “Never thought I’d hear you admit that.” His father smiled and squeezed Adam’s shoulder. “What about the sap?”
    He glanced toward the maple grove, but there was no sign of Lidia or Koby. They must have taken the wagon, full of the morning’s harvest, down to the sugarhouse.
    Adam cleared his throat. “I’ve had some help.”
    His father leaned against the porch railing, a smile playing on his lips. “So you finally took my advice and hired workers?”
    “Not officially.” Adam’s gaze dropped to study the rough boards of the porch. As much as he knew he needed to tell his father the truth, the very idea sent a wave of nausea coursing through him. “There is a problem, though. We need to talk.”
    “What is it, son?”
    “Why don’t you come inside and sit down. I’ll get you some coffee.”
    He was avoiding the issue, and he knew it. He studied his father’s puzzled expression as they entered the house. Adam wasn’t sure how he did it, but the past year and a half had produced a deeper strength in his father. He’d seen the tragedy draw him and his stepmother, Michaela, even closer together as they rallied around the family for support. Their spiritual lives had taken on deeper meaning, but none of it made sense to Adam. It seemed to him that God had played favorites between Samuel and Jarek—and Samuel had lost.
    “Something smells good.” His father made himself at home on one of the two chairs Adam had to offer. “Don’t tell me you’ve taken up cooking?”
    “Hardly.” He handed his father a mug of the hot coffee, then took a seat across from him. “I told you I’ve had some help. About a week ago I passed out in the snow and hit my head rather hard. Lidia Kowalski and her brother Koby were looking for shelter from the weather and stumbled, literally, upon me. They both work at one of the mills, but with the weather so unpredictable Lidia was afraid she wouldn’t find her way back. I was in and out of consciousness, so she decided to stay and begin harvesting the sap.”
    “I wish we would have known. Thank God you’re all right.”
    “I’m feeling fine now, and in fact I planned to take them back to the mill this morning so I could explain to the overseer what happened. I don’t want them to lose their jobs over this. But …” Adam paused to take a sip of his coffee. “I found something out this morning about Lidia and Koby.”
    His father leaned forward, resting his elbows against his thighs. “What is it?”
    Adam worked to formulate his words. There was simply no easy way around it. “Lidia’s brother Jarek is the one who killed Samuel.”
    The color drained from his father’s face. “How do you know this?”
    “She was cleaning the room and found some newspaper articles I’d kept. She knew her brother was wanted for murder, but never knew who he’d killed until she saw Samuel’s name. She put two and two together. …”
    His father set his coffee on the small table beside him and rubbed his chin with his hand. “I’d given up ever knowing who had pulled the trigger, so much time has passed.”
    “Lidia has no idea where he is, but we have a name now, which will help. Knowing