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Chapter 16

“Years ago when I would follow Jacob and Perry to school, I used to imagine that it was Jacob walking by my side, and that it was Perry who was following. Of course, Perry would have never followed either of us. That wasn't his way.”

D
EBORAH
B
ORNTRAGER

O
vercome, Deborah threw the cell phone down and stared at it like it was on fire. Jacob had been fighting with Perry the evening he died? They'd been arguing and fighting and Perry was left bleeding while Jacob ran away?

Her head pounded as all of the consequences ran together in her mind. Jacob was to blame for Perry's death. Maybe completely to blame. In addition, he'd been hiding the truth from her for months. No matter what he'd said, he hadn't trusted her. Or maybe, rather, it was that he hadn't wanted her to know his guilt.

And all this time, she'd been harboring her own secret about the man she'd loved for most of her life.

Feeling like each of her feet weighed a hundred pounds, she slowly walked over to her desk drawer, pulled out an old devotional, and carefully pulled out the note she'd hidden inside.

The one she'd snuck out of Perry's room.

The note that Jacob had written to Perry, promising him that he would one day make Perry sorry for all the pain he'd caused them.

She'd been sure it was just another example of Jacob letting his emotions get the best of him. Afraid that someone would get the wrong idea about his words, she'd kept the note hidden.

But now it seemed that there was a very good chance that she'd been the one who'd completely misunderstood Jacob. Feeling sick to her stomach, she knew she was going to have to show the note to Mose.

Even if it meant admitting her folly and caused Jacob to hate her for the rest of her life.

Even it if helped Mose and Detective Reynolds arrest Jacob. She had to do this for Perry.

But this was going to hurt. Giving in to her grief, she laid down on her bed and let the tears fall for what she was going to have to do.

All this time, she'd been sure no other man could ever measure up to Jacob. She'd refused to see his faults. Instead, she'd made excuses for his rudeness or his selfish ways. Instead of realizing that he was never going to be the man for her, she gave him second and third chances. How could she be so stupid?

She hiccupped after a few moments, reliving Jacob's phone call. And then she realized what he hadn't said. He hadn't mentioned his reasons for looking for Perry. He hadn't even said whether the fight had been an accident or on purpose. All he'd said was that he and Perry had fought, but that he hadn't killed him.

With the policemen standing right there, he'd taken the time to call her. Almost as if she mattered to him as much as he mattered to her.

Did he still?

Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't been as foolish as she'd thought? Deborah realized that God was testing her right there and then. She could either have faith in Him, or she could use this moment as yet another reason to close herself off from the world and wallow in grief.

Thinking about that, she reflected about how many days and nights she'd done just that. She had chosen to stay by herself, letting her doubts comfort her instead of other people.

Looking at her closed door, she knew this was an important moment for her. She knew Mose would stop by the house soon and speak to her parents. And they would once again be thrown into a combination of righteous grief . . . and anger at the rest of the world.

But one thing she was certain they would not do was reach out to her. It would be up to her to hold the family together, to comfort them.

She would. She intended to do her duty.

But over the last week, Deborah had realized that she was so much more than the dutiful daughter. She was a grown woman with needs and fears all of her own. It was time she reached out to people who could help her.

Looking at the cell phone still clasped in her hand like an invitation, she made a sudden decision. She scanned down the five phone numbers and clicked on the name.

Frannie answered immediately. “Deborah, you are using the phone! I am mighty glad of that.”

“I didn't call simply to talk. I need help.”

“What is wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I'm not hurt, at least not on the outside. Frannie, to be honest, I'm afraid I'm pretty shaken up. Jacob just called and told me that he fought with Perry on New Year's Eve.”

“But . . . that was the day I saw Perry.”

“I know. I'm not sure what happened. Maybe he saw Perry after you did? He said they fought and he left Perry alone in the field, bleeding. Now Detective Reynolds and Sheriff Kramer have taken him to their office for questioning. I don't know what to do.”

“Oh my word.” Her voice was weak as she continued. “I don't even know what to think, Deborah. All I know is that I feel certain that Luke wouldn't do anything without believing it to be the right thing.”

That was what she was afraid of. “I know. I can hardly wrap my mind around everything that he said. I feel like Jacob has been hiding a whole other life from me. Like he's taken everything that I believed about him and twisted it up into something I'm not even sure I recognize anymore.”

Taking a breath, she blurted the awful truth. “Frannie, all this time while Mose and Luke have been here, questioning all of us, making us all doubt each other . . . all this time, he's been the one,” she added, forcing herself to continue even though saying the words was breaking her heart.

“We don't know that for sure. I must say I'm surprised by the news. I had been sure it was a stranger. Like it could have been one of those men who the undercover agent had been following.”

“I wish it had been a stranger.”

“Maybe it still was. We don't know, right?”

She breathed deep. “You're right.” Oh, she hoped Frannie was right! It was so much easier to blame and hate a mysterious stranger instead of the man she'd secretly loved for most of her life! “But I need to go to the sheriff's office and deliver something. Would . . . would you go with me?”

“Of course. But, Deborah, I can't change Luke's mind.”

“I wouldn't want you to do that. The only way all of us can go forward is if we understand what really happened in the past. I just don't want to go to the sheriff's office alone.”

“You won't have to. I know one thing for sure—you cannot be alone right now!”

“I was hoping you'd say that. I don't think I'm going to be able to stand another minute with only my thoughts for company.”

“You don't need to do that. You've got your friends, Deborah, and we're not going to make you handle this on your own. Now, where are you?”

“I'm home. I'm sitting in my room.” Sneaking a call on the cell phone Jacob had gotten her. Unable to help herself, she winced. Was it even right what she was doing?

“Do you want me to come to your house, and then we can walk to see Luke together?” Frannie asked. Deborah could tell by her tone that her mind was clicking away, debating various options of how to help her out.

“I don't want to stay here another moment.” No, she wanted to run and run. To get as far away from her life as she could. Maybe if she did that she wouldn't hurt so badly?

“Then, how about you walk over here to the Yellow Bird Inn?”

“Are you sure you don't mind walking with me to see Luke? Oh, is Luke going to mind you getting involved?”

“First of all, I am already involved. And secondly, last I heard, I haven't given Luke any reason to think he could decide who I wanted at my bed-and-breakfast,” Frannie replied with such a dose of salt and vinegar in her voice that Deborah had to grin. “You need to come over right now, Deborah. Then, after we talk to Mose and Luke, I'll call Beth and Lydia. They can come over here and sit with us. All night if we need them to.”

“You don't think they'd mind?”

“Not at all. News like this calls for girlfriends and chocolate.”

“I'll be over soon,” she said, tears of relief pricking her eyes. She was so glad she'd called Frannie. What would she have done if she'd just sat in her room, with only her dark thoughts for company?

Clicking off the phone, she stared at it. The right thing to do would be to turn it off and hide it, too.

But just as she was about to slip it between her mattress and box springs, she paused. And remembered the frantic tone in Jacob's voice. He'd sounded so scared, and so alone.

And out of everyone in the world, he'd called her. What if he tried again and she didn't answer?

As she thought about that, she berated herself for even thinking about such a thing. She shouldn't care about his feelings . . . should she?

Deborah found herself immobilized by fear and indecision. Weighing what was right and what wasn't.

“Deborah?” her father called out. “What are you doing in your room? I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

“I was only praying out loud, Daed,” she lied, immediately flushing. Oh, but that was the worst sort of lie. Not only was she lying to her father, but she was using the Lord in her deception. She had no doubt that He was shaking his head in disappointment.

But though she felt guilty, Deborah wasn't about to take back her words. She needed some time to herself and with people she could be completely honest with.

At the moment, those people were not her parents. Carefully, she slipped Jacob's note back into the devotional, then put a nightgown and a change of clothes into the tote bag, too.

Her father was standing outside her door, looking concerned and confused. “Daughter, what is going on?”

“I'm going to go to Frannie Eicher's for the rest of today and to spend the night as well.”

His brows rose. “At Frannie's? Why?”

She knew she should tell him about Jacob's phone call. She knew she should stay home and be there for her parents. But though her sense of duty was strong, her need to think of her own sanity remained just as important.

Keeping her voice light, she said, “Frannie has invited several women over for the evening. It's a chance for us all to talk about her courtship with Luke. It's a ‘girl thing,' Daed.”

He frowned. “But Frannie is courting a man who is not of our faith. I hardly think you should be celebrating that.”

Out of all the things they had going on, she found it hard to believe her
daed
was concerned about Frannie's love life. “Frannie and Luke have fallen in love. Frannie's never been happier, and Luke is willing to leave his city life and his position in the city police department for a life in Crittenden County. I think that's something to celebrate.”

“But he is not Amish. And that man carries a weapon.”

“I know. But I don't think you can always choose who you fall in love with, Daed.”

Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at her with more than a little skepticism. “Is that right? Well, if you don't do the choosing, who does?”

“God, Daed. I think God helps us find the right mate in life. And for reasons we don't know, He's chosen Luke for Frannie. I'm going to spend the night at Frannie's house, then go straight from there to work at the Schrocks' store.”

His frown deepened. “I wish you had never taken that job. Whenever I think of the store, I'm reminded how working there ruined Perry's life.”

Deborah gulped. Her father's words seemed to have double meanings. It now was evident that Jacob Schrock had ruined Perry's life. And perhaps all the hatred and violence had begun at the store.

Put that way, her father's words made a lot of sense.

So why wasn't she also thinking the same things? Why was she still holding a cell phone, all for the slight chance that Jacob would call her again?

And why wasn't she anxious to quit her job? She should want to put as much distance between herself and the Schrocks as possible!

“I'm going to leave now, Daed. I don't want to walk to Frannie's in the dark.”

His face fell. Steeling herself, she turned and walked out the door.

Chapter 17

“When Mr. Schrock said he could never keep a secret from his wife, Perry had laughed. ‘Everyone has secrets they don't want anyone to know,' he said. Maybe he was right?”

W
ALKER
A
NDERSON

U
h-oh,” Mose muttered just seconds before Frannie and Deborah Borntrager entered the office. “I do believe things just got more complicated.”

Luke was afraid his old friend was right. He loved seeing Frannie, of course. But this was not the right time. “Frannie, honey, I can't chat now.”

Her blue-gray eyes flashed in annoyance. “Oh, Luke. Of course I know that.”

“Of course?”
He raised his brows. “If you didn't come here to talk, why are you here?”

Some of the fire in her expression faded. “Deborah asked me to come with her.”

Silently, Deborah nodded.

Mose sighed. “Deborah, I'm not going to let you talk to Jacob.”

“It's not that,” Deborah protested. “I didn't come to talk to Jacob. I . . . I have something to show you both.”

Curious, Luke turned to Deborah. “What do you have?”

“A note.”

She looked on the verge of tears. Luke grabbed a box of tissues and handed her one. “Why don't you sit down, Deborah?”

“Danke,” she said, taking the chair next to Mose's desk.

When Frannie looked about to pull up another chair, Luke shook his head. “Frannie, it's a nice day out. Would you mind sitting on the bench outside?”

“Oh. All right, Luke.” Turning to Deborah, she said, “Just tell them what you told me and it'll be all right. I promise. I'll be out here waiting.”

Once the door was closed behind Frannie, Mose pulled up another chair, so they were all sitting in a semicircle around Mose's metal desk. Once he was settled, he looked at Deborah curiously. “What is this note you have to show us?”

Her hands shook, but she opened up her purse and pulled out a worn-looking devotional.

Luke shared a glance with Mose. Deborah had decided they needed to pray more? “It's a prayer book,” he muttered. When she flinched, he knew he should apologize, but his patience was near its end.

“Luke, I've got this,” Mose murmured as he picked up the book. “This looks mighty nice, Deborah. I am sure I'll put it to good use this evening.”

She blinked owlishly. Then frowned as she pulled the book back out of his hands. “Sheriff Kramer, I didn't walk over here to bring you a devotional. I slipped a note inside it.” Taking a deep breath, she opened the book to the center and pulled out a neatly folded white sheet of paper. “A few weeks ago, I found this inside Perry's bedside table. I thought you might use it against Jacob, so I took it and hid it.”

Luke opened the note and read carefully. “ ‘Perry, you're going to regret the things you've been doing. I'll make sure of it,' ” he said out loud. After he passed it to Mose, he rested his palms on his knees. “Any idea when Jacob sent this?”

Deborah shook her head. “No. When Perry went missing, I looked through his drawers, thinking maybe I'd find a clue about where he went.”

“And this didn't look like a clue to you?” Mose asked.

“Maybe it did, maybe it didn't.” With a grimace, she squeezed her hands tight. After it looked like she got her nerves back under control, she spoke again. “Detective, I was afraid for anyone else to see it. I thought Jacob was simply mad about how Perry had been acting at the store. I never thought he'd act on it. But after his call, I knew I wasn't going to be able to rest until I showed this to you.”

Standing up, Luke handed her back the devotional. He felt beyond frustrated with her. Withholding this from them had been foolish and had cost him and Mose valuable time. But, he knew venting his annoyance wasn't going to make anything better. “Thanks for coming by, Deborah.”

She bit her lip. “Does . . . does this make things worse for Jacob?”

“Let me walk you out,” Mose said, completely ignoring her question. “Are you and Frannie going to be together for a few hours?”

“Yes. We are going to her home. Some other girls are going to meet us.”

“Then if we need you, we'll know where to find you. Thank you, Deborah,” he said, then shut the door tight behind her.

When they were alone again, Mose folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I'm telling you what . . . if we don't discover what really happened soon, I'm going to strangle the whole lot of 'em.”

“I know the feeling. So far, not a person we have talked to has told us the complete truth from the very beginning.” Luke pointed to the door. “You ready to go see how Jacob reacts to seeing this note?”

Mose waved a hand. “I'm more than ready.”

W
alker insisted on taking Lydia to Frannie's bed-and-breakfast. “I like picking you up and taking you where you need to go,” he said. “Plus, with all the work I've been doing, we've hardly been spending any time together.”

Lydia felt the same way. “I've missed you.” Patting the cushion on the couch next to her, she added, “I am glad you had time to come over a little early. I haven't seen you in two days.”

Stifling a yawn, he asked, “Are you sure you don't want to beg off? We could spend the evening together.”

“I wish I could, but Frannie said getting together was important. She said Deborah is feeling pretty blue tonight.”

His eyebrows rose, but to her relief, he didn't object. “I'm just teasing you. My mom likes to go to her book club meetings once a month. But my dad and I get the feeling that she doesn't talk about books as much as laugh with her girlfriends. Maybe one day when we're married, you'll be wanting to do the same thing.”

Lydia felt her pulse jump a little bit. No matter how hard she tried to take all the changes in her life in stride, she still got as giddy as a schoolgirl whenever she thought about being Walker's wife.

“Perhaps,” she teased. “Would it bother you if we did have a girls' night every once in a while?”

“Probably not.” With a sneaky grin, he added, “But of course, then you would have to let me have a hunting weekend with the boys every once in a while.”

“I suppose I could let you do that.” When she noticed he yawned again, then winced as he tried to stretch, she took a better look at him. He wasn't just sleepy—he was exhausted!

When he winced again when he shifted, she said, “Walker, you look like you're hurt.”

“I'm not hurt. I'm just more sore than I've ever been in my whole life.” He lifted an arm with another wince and rolled his neck. “Plowing behind a horse is a whole lot harder than I thought it would be. Five-hour pitching practices have nothing on that plow.”

“Are you doing too much?” She hated to worry over him, but the plain and simple truth of it was that Walker was not used to all of the hard labor that came with the life of an Amish man working in the fields. “Do you need some more help?”

“Believe it or not, my father came out and helped me this morning.”

She'd only seen his dad dressed in suits. Not even trying to hide her surprise, she gaped. “Your father?”

“Yeah.” He stretched his arm again. “Funny thing happened when I told my dad that I was going to live out at Grandpa James's farm and try to help. It turns out that he knows a whole lot more about being Amish than I do.”

“I suppose he would. He was raised Plain.”

“Even twenty years of driving a car hasn't prevented him from guiding a plow a whole lot better than me.” With a sheepish smile, he added, “Between my father showing me the right way to muck stalls and watching the other Amish men hold their tongues while I continually make mistakes, it's been a lesson in humility.”

“Poor Walker.” When he rolled his neck with another grimace, she twisted to sit behind him. “Relax and let me rub your shoulders for a bit.”

He obediently shifted so his back was turned her way. “You don't mind?”

“Of course not, Walker,” she said, rubbing his shoulders—and frowning when she felt all the knots in his muscles. “My goodness, no wonder you're sore! I think all of your muscles have frozen in knots.”

“It feels like it. I felt a little better after a hot shower, but now it feels like I'll never be pain-free again.”

Massaging his neck, Lydia smiled as his shoulders and neck relaxed, little by little. When he sighed in relief, she chuckled softly. She could get used to this, she realized. There was something about helping him at the end of the day that made her feel worthy.

She could imagine the two of them spending many an evening together. Of course, they wouldn't be sitting like this, they'd be on their front porch. Or sitting together, enjoying the peace and quiet of their home after they each had spent most of their days outside.

“Can you rub just a little to the left, Lydia? I've got the worst crick right . . . there.”

Feeling another knot, she massaged harder. “I hope your mother is rubbing your father's shoulders right now.”

“He probably doesn't even need it.”

“He needs it! His head might remember how to plow, but I assure you, his muscles haven't missed the activity. Coaxing a horse to pull a plow through acres of land isn't easy to do.”

She took a breath, remembering all the evenings her father came home, looking muddier than the horses. “Then there's the mud. The rain makes the plow move easier, but it brings on its own set of problems, too. Why, one evening, my
mamm
made my
daed
wash up outside, he was so dirty!”

Her hands slowed as she realized Walker hadn't said a word. “Walker?” she murmured.

When he still said nothing, she leaned around to see his face.

Then, of course, she had to smile. Walker Anderson had fallen asleep.

Getting to her feet, she went to go get him a quilt.

Her mother stopped her at the door. Frowning at Walker's body slumped in the chair, she asked, “Is Walker okay?”

“He fell asleep,” Lydia said. “After plowing all day, I think he's more tired than the horse!”

Her mother chuckled. “I'm sure he is. Plowing is mighty hard work. I bet he is sore as well.”

“Mamm, I was on my way to get a quilt to cover him up. I thought I'd let him sleep for a while. Is that okay with you?”

“That is fine. A nap will do him good.”

“It will, though I have plans to go to Frannie's tonight. Walker was going to take me there.”

“How about I make him a bowl of stew? You can bring him a bowl in about fifteen minutes. After that, he should be fortified enough to drive you to Frannie's.”

Lydia was touched. Her mother was really bending over backward to develop a relationship with Walker. “Thanks for being so nice to him, Mamm.”

“He loves you, Lydia. Every time he's near you, he looks like the sun rises and sets on you. I can't fault that. All a mother really wants is for her daughter to love a man who loves her back.”

Lydia knew Walker loved her. It gave her such a sense of security, knowing that she'd found the right person to spend the rest of her life with. “He's still seriously thinking about adopting our ways, Mamm,” she whispered. She wanted that so badly, she was afraid to even mention it out loud.

Practically reading Lydia's mind, her mother said, “If Walker chooses to became Plain, that would be an answer to a prayer, Lydia.”

When her mother went to the kitchen, Lydia ran to get a quilt and softly laid it over Walker's chest and lap. Then she sat beside him and watched him sleep.

And gave thanks to the Lord for all of her blessings.

F
rannie, only you would make a cake at a time like this,” Beth Byler said when the four of them watched Frannie bring in a chocolate cake, plates, napkins, and forks all on a tray.

“As I told you, a time like this deserves chocolate. That can't be denied.”

“You're right,” Beth said with a comforting smile toward Deborah. “Do you think you'll be able to eat?”

“I don't know. Frannie, the cake looks good, but right now I feel like everything is going to send me rushing to the bathroom. My stomach seems to be tied up in knots.”

“Well, who can blame ya?” Sitting at the far side of the coffee table, Frannie said, “Are you glad you went and talked to the detectives?”

She thought about it. “I'm glad, I suppose. Even if it hurts Jacob's feelings, I didn't want to harbor any more secrets.”

“I think that's a
gut
plan.”

“I hope so. I am glad he called me, too.”

“That says a lot. He didn't have to call just to tell you his side of the story.”

“It was good to hear the truth from him. Well, at least most of the truth.” After weighing the options, she went ahead and told the other girls the whole story. “He said they fought, and that he hit Perry and Perry hurt his head.”

“And that is how Perry died?”

“I don't know.” Shrugging, she added, “Jacob promised that Perry was alive when he left him. And he swore up and down that he didn't put him in the well. Perry sure wouldn't have gotten in the well himself.”

“Does it make a difference if he did that or not?”

“I'm sure it will to the police.”

“I mean to you. Does it make a difference to you? Will you ever be able to forgive Jacob?”

Forgive? “I don't know,” she replied, weighing each word with care. “There's a part of me that doesn't want to forgive him for anything. I want to put all my energy into hating him, and blaming him for Perry's death.”

Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “No one would blame you if forgiveness came hard, Deborah.”

“Though forgiving is who we are,” Lydia reminded them quietly. “If he told you the truth and repented, you need to forgive him.”