Between Two Promises (17 page)

A middle-aged woman Aiden assumed was Mrs. Plank ladled hot chocolate into Styrofoam cups from a stainless steel vat heated with charcoal. The Schrocks decided they’d wait and have some when they were good and cold, after sledding down the hill many times.

Dragging their sleds behind them, the family headed for the hill. Grace led Leah on an old-fashioned runner sled. She clambered up the hill, holding tightly to Leah, and together they eased down. Leah’s brightly lit face confirmed she’d loved every minute. Mark and Heidi, two young lovebirds yoked together on their round plastic sled, laughed like piano music as they whizzed down. They acted as if they were the only two on the entire hill.

Daniel kept off to the side, chatting with Amish fathers around his age. David hung out with his friends. Aiden stayed clear of them. He was like the new boy in school on his first day, without a friend in the world.

After about a half hour, he began to feel pushed out. Everyone but him was having such a good time. He must’ve looked like a fool the few times he’d asked to borrow Mark’s or Grace’s sled and glided down the hill alone.

Bitter emotions scoured Aiden. Flustered, he slogged off. He had no idea where to go. Only that he needed to get away. At first he figured he’d sit in the sleigh, but noticing how content the Belgians looked with their muzzles in the sweet hay, he passed them by until he found himself wandering down the lane.

As dusk settled, stringer lights adorning the English homes began to shine brightly. A family in a minivan with a Christmas tree strapped to the top passed him. Must be on their way home to decorate the tree, making a family night of it, Aiden mused. Or maybe they were heading for Plank Hill for some sledding first. He and Daniel had planned for their first Christmas together to be like that, full of joy and laughter.

The smell of wood-burning fireplaces lingered heavily in the air. He stomped through the snow, still smarting over what he’d overheard in Rachel and Samuel’s bedroom yesterday. They had implied his coming was a mistake. How was he to pretend they had never said anything?

Moriah, at home in bed with the flu he had most likely passed on to her, for sure wished Aiden had never come back to Illinois. And weren’t each of them right? Hadn’t Aiden been too rash in forcing Daniel to return? The Schrocks had said they thought putting a tree inside one’s home shussly. Maybe they’d been right about that too.

Smoldering worries followed him down the lane. Why did people choose to live with lies? For what? Religion? Politics? He understood privacy and expression were paramount to liberty, as incongruous as they may appear. One promoted yelling and screaming, while the other encouraged people to retreat and pull within. Yet, cornerstones to American democracy, people needed them both for the free lives they took for granted.

When did the privacy become a means to hide from truth? And was Aiden, like Daniel had once claimed while they had hiked the Swan Range, standing on a soapbox for the sake of his own ego? Was he trumpeting his principles merely because he could, in total disregard for others’ feelings?

An image of Elisabeth’s portrait of Daniel and Esther appeared in his mind. Esther was not a mere ghost. She had been a real person, Daniel’s wife, the mother of his child. They had lived as a couple on a simple Amish farm. Husband and wife. What had Elisabeth wanted to tell him by showing him her sketch? That she’d always known Daniel was gay, and that she was happy he’d found someone? Would she ever sketch Aiden and Daniel together like she had Daniel and Esther?

Perhaps he’d been selfish, trying to take Daniel away from a life he had known since his birth. Perhaps Daniel would be better off with a woman and children, living the life of a devout Amish farmer and furniture maker. Without the constant worries of being shunned by society.

Perhaps the greatest love he could bestow on Daniel was to set him free.

His cell phone vibrated inside his pants pocket (Daniel had made him turn off the ringer whenever around the Schrocks). Most likely Daniel checking on him, wondering where he’d stomped off to for a second time. He reached into his pocket and clicked off the phone, in no mood for curt text messages or angry voice mails.

The glow of clustered homes outside Henry drew him closer. He’d walk to town, maybe stop by
The Henry Blade
and chat again with his former boss. Maybe Kevin might want to grab some supper at the diner.

Happily, he saw Kevin’s office lights on. Kevin was alone, standing over the coffeemaker, when he stepped in.

“Where’s your new ace reporter?” Aiden asked, stomping his snowy boots on the door rug. “Off on assignment to uncover the great Christmas wreath heist?”

Both Aiden and Kevin laughed. “No, Carolyn’s at home. Told her to get some rest, she works longer hours than you used to. Come on in, Aiden. Some coffee?”

This time, Aiden accepted Kevin’s offer. His old boss seemed more sincere than the last time he’d offered Aiden coffee. Slipping off his gloves, Aiden took the mug from Kevin.

“I just turned off the Mr. Coffee, but it’s still hot,” Kevin said.

The warmth from the mug thawed him. He blew into the hot liquid, made himself more comfortable. “So, are you and Carolyn dating?” he asked.

“Dating?” Kevin’s eyes widened. “What makes you ask that, out of the blue?”

“Last time I was here you were near gushing over her.”

“Can’t a man appreciate an employee without there being any funny business going on?”

“Sure, sure you can, but I’m not stupid, Kevin. Last time I was here, you guys had hot and heavy written all over you.”

Kevin flushed but seemed to regain his confidence. “We’ve been dating for a few months.”

“I figured.” Aiden, worried Kevin might think he was mocking him, kept his tone earnest. He merely wanted to peel back the layers and get to some semblance of truth. Anywhere. Too many people hiding behind bushes. “I’m happy for you,” he said. “She seems like a real nice girl.”

“She’s very nice,” Kevin said, almost as if he would be shocked if anyone had disagreed. “Some may not see it so clearly at first, but I can assure you she’s a wonderful girl.”

“I guess you know about me and Daniel,” Aiden said. Nice to say it, flat out, without pretense. Since Kevin had already admitted his “dark secret,” Aiden figured he might as well also.

“No, what do you mean?” Kevin said, eyes wide.

“We’re a couple, just like you and Carolyn.”

“Really? You and Daniel Schrock? I never would’ve guessed.”

“I suppose people don’t pick up on those things as much as I assume they do,” Aiden said. “Or maybe they just don’t put much time in thinking about it.”

“The latter’s probably more the case,” Kevin said. “His family doesn’t know, do they?”

“No, of course not.” Determined to keep the frank channels open, Aiden went on. “But you probably suspected I was gay when I worked here?”

“Not at first,” Kevin said, looking away, red-faced. “I wasn’t sure. I figured it wasn’t any of my business.”

“Not too many gay people live in small towns, I guess, at least not openly.” Aiden sipped his coffee, relishing the warmth trickling down his throat.

“It would be difficult, I imagine. But apparently gay people crop up anywhere. Who would even guess about Daniel?” Kevin shook his head. “I never would’ve seen you two together back when you were living here in Henry. Pretty obvious you were friends, but not
that
close. How’re things going?”

“Have to admit, it’s been a little tough.” Aiden lowered his eyes to the floor. He had been repressing his emotions about Daniel for so long. Now, like a champagne bottle uncorked, he allowed his words to flow forth. “I guess I underestimated how much of a drastic change to his lifestyle us being together would be for him. Maybe I’ve expected too much.”

“He’s not resorting to drinking or anything like that, is he?” Kevin asked. “Some of those Amish, once they lose their community, they find another crutch, one that’s less healthy.”

Aiden snickered and shook his head. “No, I’ve never seen him drink alcohol. He’s surly at times, that’s all. The change has been hard for him. We kinda jumped into things. We moved in together awful quick. At first I thought we were going too fast. Now I wonder if we’re not going backward.”

“Has he officially left the church?” Kevin asked. “That could turn some heads around here. There’s that shunning business, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Aiden drew in his lips. The apprehensions from the walk over swamped his chest. Had he been wrong to take Daniel away from his family, his home, his world? Forcing the ominous Amish shunning upon him?

“He hasn’t declared he’s leaving the church, not yet,” Aiden said, trying to keep his tone encouraging. “He doesn’t talk much about it. Being Amish is part of his identity, his culture. Hard to give it up. I don’t blame him. I like the Amish lifestyle too.”

“It has its plusses, I imagine,” Kevin said. “I’m sure up in Montana you two live like the Amish, like frontiersmen.”

“Pretty rustic where we live, but sometimes I would like more. Or, should I say, less.”

“You always had romantic notions. That sometimes interfered with your reporting.” Kevin looked agitated, like he wished he hadn’t broached the subject of Aiden’s tenure reporting for him. He sat down at his desk, shuffled papers aside, switched off his computer, as if he wanted to shut down the office for the day.

Aiden ventured to say more. “I never told you about the threats I got while I worked here, did I?”

“Threats?” Kevin raised one eyebrow high above the top frame of his glasses.

“I was never sure who made them,” Aiden said. “I think it had to do with my investigation into Kyle Yoder’s death. Either that or someone didn’t like a gay man living in their small town. But I doubt that was the reason.”

“You never called the police?”

“I assumed best to let it go,” Aiden said. “I kinda worried if the police got involved they may damper my investigation. If anything, the threats only spurred me to investigate further.”

Silent a moment, Kevin gazed at the scattered papers and notepads on his desk. “You haven’t decided to start investigating again, have you? That isn’t what brought you back?”

Aiden snickered. “No, I really did come for Mark’s wedding. I’m not going undercover, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I’ve been considering reopening the investigation, to be honest.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never believed Kyle committed suicide. But hey, you can’t stop me from looking into it. You’re no longer my boss.” Aiden chuckled.

“You know,” Kevin said, “I really did believe your theory about the Reverend Yoder killing Kyle.”

Kevin’s words sobered Aiden. He tightened his mouth and shook his head. “Then why did you want me to ever stop looking into it?”

Shifting his weight, Kevin said, “It was best to leave it alone.”

Aiden contemplated Kevin’s words. He’d always considered his former boss to be wise. He shrugged and said, “Either way, it’s behind me. Daniel convinced me to stop. I guess he and everyone else were right. I got in over my head.”

“Good,” Kevin said. “It’s best you do what Daniel says, especially if you want to keep the peace. You wouldn’t want to get any more of those threats now, would you, and cause any more worries for him? Awful spray painted messages scrawled across your door, pumpkins thrown at your window, nasty notes left in your mailbox. How much nonsense like that can a man take? Let it go. You have your whole life ahead of you to tackle unsolved mysteries.”

“You’re probably right.” Aiden looked toward the cottage cheese ceiling, mulling over Kevin’s sage advice. He understood Kevin wanted to leave. He set down his mug of coffee on a foldout table. “Did you want to grab some dinner?” he asked.

Kevin stood. “No, I can’t. Carolyn is expecting me. But thanks for asking. Maybe some other time.”

Aiden flinched from the sting of rejection. A familiar pain, lately. He forced a grin. “Well, I guess I better get back to the inn anyway. I have a hunch, after I wandered off again, Daniel’ll be pretty darn mad at me.”

Chapter Thirteen

T
HE
doorknob jangled. Daniel stepped inside the room. His expression, stern and aggravated, did not surprise Aiden. Without speaking, Daniel stomped the snow from his boots and kicked them into a corner and went about yanking off his coat and gloves.

“Snowing again?” Aiden laid aside his paperback and glanced out the window above his bed. The darkness outside made discerning anything difficult. Daniel’s deliberate silence prevented him from saying more.

“What’s with you walking off without telling me?” Daniel said finally. “It’s the second time you done that. And you wouldn’t answer your phone? I was worried sick.”

“I guess I had it turned off.” Aiden reached over to the night table where his cell phone was charging and clicked it on. “There,” he said. “It’s on now. I forgot. Sorry.”

“What’s the point of having one of those contraptions if you keep it turned off?” Daniel went about undressing. “Everyone wanted to know where you went. You missed supper.”

“You sure anyone cared?”