A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (43 page)

She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to cross a law officer. At least Lydia wouldn’t, but then she wasn’t the one being arrested.

She glanced over at Jerry, who was waiting in Officer Tate’s squad car, and to Mattie who waited in Officer Mendoza’s car. They should have been able to prevent this from happening.

The lights from the patrol car continued to splay an unnatural pattern of red and blue beams across the parking area. In addition, battery-powered floodlights had been set up in the office, in the shop, and along the path in between.

Crime techs were collecting fingerprints, shoeprints, and taking photographs. With each snap of the camera, Lydia felt herself flinch, and each flinch reminded her of Jerry and Mattie.

Yellow crime scene tape was strung from the speckled alder bush to the parking lot. It seemed to hang everywhere she looked, garish in the
Englisch
lights.

Officer Mendoza clicked her pen. Golden brown skin, long black hair that was pulled back and fastened with a clip, and a Spanish accent did nothing to soften her appearance. Her dark eyes, though, eyes that met Lydia’s and didn’t blink—they spoke of understanding.

“Is this…all of this…necessary?”

“There have been other burglaries in Cashton and the surrounding villages. We need to be able to confirm whether Mr. Beiler—”

“Jerry wouldn’t do that.”

Mendoza didn’t argue with her. She glanced down at her notes one more time. “Is there anything else you’d like to add to your statement, Miss Fisher?”

“No. That’s all I can think of. I appreciate your sending someone out to my parents. They would have been very
naerfich
. I’m so late, and they might have heard there’s a problem here. They might have heard from the family who reported Jerry’s car.” Lydia ran her hand down her dress, attempting to brush off some of the mud caked on it.

It was no use. Some of these stains might not wash out. What had happened tonight, it couldn’t be undone.

“It’s no problem. Let me check with Officer Tate to be sure he doesn’t need anything else from you or your sister. Once he clears you, it should be okay for you both to go. Would you like a patrol car to follow you home? It’s late to be on the road.”

“That’s not necessary. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll follow them.”

She hadn’t heard Aaron walk up behind her, and she didn’t turn to look at him, but the sound of his voice sent her stomach tumbling. So much had happened, so much she didn’t understand. She wanted to talk to him, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to the questions circling around in her mind.

“All right. I’ll be back with you in just a minute.”

Aaron dropped down beside her on the porch steps. From where they were sitting, they could see Clara—Clara, who was already in the buggy waiting, staring straight ahead and looking very much alone.

Lydia didn’t know where to start, what to ask first, and she was suddenly so tired she wasn’t sure she could drive Tin Star home.

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Why was she crying now?

Instead of asking her about her tears or what he could do to help, Aaron reached over and laced his fingers with hers. Lydia stared down at their hands, and focused on taking deep breaths and pushing the images of the previous three hours away. She slowly became aware of other things—a fish splashing in the creek, the call of a night bird and another’s answer, the croaking of a frog, and the breeze in the trees.

When had it stopped raining?

“Gabe will be glad the rain was light and didn’t last.” Aaron’s thoughts mirrored her own.

Did he know her that well? Did he know what she was thinking of now? All that she was worrying over?

She turned to look in his eyes, warm brown eyes she sometimes dreamed about.

Did he know what effect he had on her?

“We’ll be all right, Lydia.” He reached forward and pushed the hair that had escaped her
kapp
out of her eyes. “And I understand there are some things we need to speak of, but not tonight.”

“When?”

“After you rest.”

He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his own, sending warmth cascading through her. With a smile, he pulled her to her feet.

They were both covered in mud, but the cabins were safe.

Walking through the maze of crime scene tape, Lydia had the absurd idea she was trying to navigate her way through a dream. She heard the squawk of Officer Tate’s radio and saw him bend down to say something to Jerry. They passed within a few feet of the squad car, close enough to see what was going on, but Jerry remained hunched over, unresponsive and defeated.

She glanced back at him. He raised his hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. With that movement, the metal handcuffs around his wrists caught the reflection of the cruiser’s flashing lights, and she thought he looked up at her for a moment. She thought they connected. It didn’t last long. His head and shoulder twitching slightly, he slumped forward again.

Mattie was in a cruiser parked farther down the lot, and though her face was turned toward them, she didn’t blink or acknowledge them in any way.

“We can’t let them go, alone…” Lydia’s voice felt raw. The words actually hurt as they clawed their way out. She barely knew these two, but seeing them cuffed and about to be driven away was like seeing two animals from a herd cut and separated for slaughter.

“Bishop Atlee has gone to collect their parents. He’ll meet them at the station.” Aaron rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “They won’t be alone for long.”

They reached her buggy at the same time Officer Mendoza
returned and told them they could leave. Clara still had nothing to say. While Lydia was worried about her, she realized Aaron was right. They all needed rest. Any questions they had, any answers they were searching for, could wait for another day.

Chapter 37

G
abe pushed his way in between Aaron and David in the serving line. “You two plan on taking all of that chicken salad?”

Aaron added another spoonful to his plate, the frown on his face deepening. “A man has to eat.”

“He doesn’t have to eat that much.” Gabe took the spoon out of his hand. “Miriam won’t make this dish unless it’s for church dinners. She claims my waistline is expanding.”

“She’s right,” David said without looking up from the plate of cold meats and cheeses he was helping himself to.

“You’re one to talk.”

“I need to eat whenever and wherever I have a chance. You’re forgetting I have a newborn
boppli
in the house.”

“Still waking up in the middle of the night?”

“
Ya
.”

“Once or twice?”

“Three times.”

“That’s tough. Guess we were lucky with Rachel. She was happy with one middle-of-the-night feeding. Even that only lasted about six weeks.”

Aaron gave them a stormy look. “Do you two have to talk about families and
bopplin
while a man’s preparing to eat? You’ll steal my appetite.”

“Why? You planning on getting married?” David laughed and jabbed Gabe in the ribs with his elbow.

Aaron shook his head in disgust and trudged off to the farthest table.

“What did I say?” David looked perplexed.

“I have no idea. Let’s go find out.” Gabe added a roll on top of his heaping plate, smiled at Miriam, who was shaking her head no to the extra bread he wanted, and hurried off after Aaron.

The first Sunday in July had turned into a perfect day for an after-church meal, especially an outdoors one. The temperature was in the low eighties, the sun was shining, and everything had finally dried out. From where they sat outside Bishop Atlee’s barn, Gabe could see fields of hay growing tall.
Gotte
had been faithful to His Word for sure. As the Scripture they had read this morning proclaimed, “For the L
ORD
your God will bless you in all your harvest and in all the work of your hands, and your joy will be complete.”

Gabe’s joy certainly was complete.

He had a wife and two
dochdern
. His life seemed whole again. He still missed Hope, and he wouldn’t trade the years he had shared with her for anything, even if it meant he could bypass the pain of losing her to the cancer.

But now
Gotte
had given him a new life, with new
freinden
, even though some of them seemed a bit out of sorts this fine Lord’s Day.

Aaron glanced up when Gabe and David sat down, but he didn’t say anything. He only picked at his food, which he now didn’t seem very interested in eating.

“Problem with Miriam’s casserole?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. Her cooking is
gut
. I should know. Those years as a widower, I nearly starved.” Gabe laughed, remembering the first time Miriam had visited his house. He’d been burning bacon and she’d cooked dinner for him and Grace.

“You can stop smiling. That only makes a man feel worse.” Aaron tentatively tried a forkful of chicken salad, but he looked as if he were having trouble swallowing it.

“Are you
narrisch
or sick?” David asked, his fork paused an inch from his mouth.

“Maybe I’m neither one.”

“Bad mood. That’s for sure.” Gabe broke the hot roll open and watched the steam escape from it. At that very moment, Lydia happened by.

“Need fresh butter for that, Gabe?”

“
Ya
. That would be
gut
. You have perfect timing.” He smiled up at her. He’d realized since helping with the cabins what a fine young woman Lydia was. She’d make someone a
gut fraa
one day…

Lydia set a small dish of butter on their table and hurried away, never smiling and practically walking into Grace and Sadie as they balanced plates and drinks and walked toward a nearby table to sit with Sadie’s parents.

Oddly, it seemed as if Lydia hadn’t even seen the girls—Lydia who always had a kind word to say to them. Lydia, who always stopped to ask Grace about her drawing or her puppy.

Gabe turned back to Aaron, who was still frowning at his plate. Suddenly, he wasn’t so interested in his roll anymore.

“What’s happened with you and Lydia?”

Aaron only shook his head and continued to push his food around.

“Girl trouble? Is that what this is about?”

Now Aaron dropped his fork all together. “Would you keep your voice down? You make it sound as if I’m a child still in school. It’s not ‘girl trouble.’ It’s worse than that.”

Gabe and David exchanged glances, and it was all Gabe could do to hold back a smile. It was obvious that Aaron had lost his heart to the young woman. “Lovesick” was written all over his face.

Either that or he’d taken the stomach flu. Gabe had learned through the years that the two things had similar symptoms. “You might feel better if you talk about it.”

“Now, why would you think that? Talking doesn’t solve anything. You can see she won’t so much as glance my way.” Aaron scrubbed his hands over his face, and now Gabe did smile. He couldn’t help it.

He could remember that feeling. It was coming back to him with the force of a hard driving rain. He’d solved his problem with a valentine in a lunch box, but that solution probably wouldn’t work for Aaron because it was July.