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Chapter 25

“It wasn't too hard to forgive Perry for his transgressions. God reminded me that I had many sins of my own. We all do.”

J
ACOB
S
CHROCK

T
hough he'd told Mose he would arrive at the office before ten that morning, Luke couldn't help but stop by Frannie's first. He was used to spending so much time together, he'd felt a little left out when she'd told him that she couldn't talk to him on the phone last night.

When she'd admitted that she and her other friends were going to visit Jacob and offer their support, Luke had been floored. The way everyone in her circle hadn't even hesitated to be there for Jacob was inspiring. And humbling.

But he also felt left out. He wasn't a part of their group, and not because he was a policeman, either. He sensed it was a deeper acknowledgment that he wasn't a part of their community.

Though he was a confident man, he suddenly felt a little awkward. Was he destined to always be on the outskirts of her circle of friends? And . . . did Frannie resent him for arresting Aaron Schrock?

Wondering about all these things, he knocked on her front door.

Less than a minute later, she opened it, her wary expression turning to a big smile when she saw who it was. “Luke, why did you knock? You know you could have walked around to the kitchen door. It's always open for you.”

Feeling strangely gratified by her words, he stepped inside and gently pressed his lips to her cheek. “Knocking seemed the right thing to do this morning.”

After touching her palm to her cheek, as if she was hoping to hold his kiss close, she looked at him curiously. “And why is that?”

He followed her back to the kitchen. There, he sat on top of his usual wooden stool at the counter as he watched her open a cabinet, pull out a large coffee mug, and pour him a cup of the dark brew. “I wasn't sure after last night how you would feel about me.”

“Because I went to see Jacob?” When he nodded, she set the cup of coffee in front of him, then turned to the refrigerator and pulled out two sticks of butter. “Were you jealous? Luke, Jacob is my friend. That's all.”

“I know that,” he said, picking up the cup of coffee and blowing softly on it. After taking an exploratory sip and finding it as excellent as always, he said, “I know there's nothing romantic between the two of you. But I also know that you are close. I've been worried you might be upset with me.”

“Because you arrested his father?”

“Well . . . Yeah.”

“Luke, you are a police detective. You were only doing your job.”

“But still, it's got to make you uncomfortable . . .” He ached to say a whole lot more, but was reluctant to make the jar of worms he'd just opened up any worse. “I thought maybe you were feeling torn. You know, caught in the middle.”

After putting a large mason jar filled with flour on the counter, she walked back to stand in front of him. “I don't feel caught in the middle at all, Luke. My loyalty is to you. I'm proud of you and the work you do. It ain't easy, choosing to be the person to uphold the law, you know.”

Once again, Frannie was speaking with her confident authority. It was so familiar, he couldn't help but smile. He relaxed enough to take another sip. “I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that.”

“Then you should know that I feel loyal to Jacob, too. It isn't his fault that his father took his vengeance out on Perry. Jacob's going to have to live with that for the rest of his life.”

Luke ached to confide in Frannie, to tell him how Aaron had kept saying how he killed Perry in order to help Jacob. But of course he couldn't share that confidential information.

Instead, he concentrated on what he could share with her, his feelings. “I was jealous last night.”

“You were?”

To his amazement, she didn't look sad about that fact. Instead, she looked pleased. That spunky part of Frannie was why he was so attracted to her. Sure, he loved the way she looked for the best in people. And the way she wasn't shy about speaking her mind, if she thought it needed to be spoken.

But she was also strong enough to stand up to his personality. She kept him in line and on his toes.

Pulling her toward him, he wrapped his hands around her waist. “I didn't even ask. How many guests do you have today?”

“Three rooms are filled. Two couples and one single lady. They should be appearing downstairs fairly soon.”

“How soon?”

Playfully, she slapped the hand that had curved a little more tightly around her waist. “Sooner than you would like, Luke. I told them I made raspberry jam-filled muffins this morning, you know. They won't tarry long.”

He dropped his hands and hopped off the stool. “Can I have one to go?”

“You haven't already eaten?”

“Oh, I ate some eggs and bacon at the Marion Inn. But the cook there doesn't make your muffins, Frannie.”

“No one does,” she said. But her eyes were sparkling.

Which made him press another kiss to her cheek when she handed him three muffins on a plate, covered with a pressed gingham napkin. “Frannie, you're the best.”

She grinned. “I know. Enjoy the treat.”

Heading out the back door, he said, “I'll call you later. Bye, Fran.”

He was almost out the door when her voice stopped him in midstride. “Luke? Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I feel a lot better. Thanks, Frannie.”

When he got in his truck, he knew he'd keep the memory of her understanding smile in his mind all day long.

D
ressed in a gray dress and black apron, with a black bonnet covering her
kapp,
Gloria Schrock looked like she was ready to take on the world. “Jacob, I want you to stay here at the store while I go to the sheriff's office,” she said.

But Jacob wasn't fooled for an instant. Her eyes were puffy and her skin was pale. She was, like him, barely holding it together. “Mamm, I'd rather you let me go. Or better yet, why don't we close up the store and go together?”

“I think it's better if I go on my own today. Besides, I'll be meeting Mr. Meyer there, and he'll want to talk about payment and such.”

All of that sounded like even more reason for his mother not to go to the sheriff's office on her own. “I can do those things. You know I've been helping with the books a lot.”

“
Jah,
but I handle the finances.” Her voice cracked.

The sound broke his heart. He'd been raised to look out for his mother. And today of all days, he ached to save her from further pain. “Mamm, I don't think Daed wants you to go to the sheriff's office. He isn't going to want you to see him that way. ”

“I don't think anything I do is up to your father anymore,” she said quietly. “And, Jacob, please stay here. I want the store to be open for business. Even if no one stops by today, I want everyone to know that I'm not about to fold up shop and hide. At least, not yet.”

Straightening her shoulders, she raised her chin slightly so she could look at him eye to eye. “Son, I need for us to be in control of something, even if it's only keeping the store open.”

Remembering how good it felt to have his friends' support the evening before, Jacob backed down. He wasn't sure how the community would react once the whole truth came out, but he was willing to support his mother's wishes. “All right. But if you need something, send word, would you?”

“I will.” Tears filled her eyes. “Jacob,” she said, her voice cracking again. “I know you are worried about your father, and about me, too. But we will all be all right. God will give us strength.”

“I know,” he said, but the moment she left, he exhaled a ragged breath. The Lord was certainly giving them strength. But He was also putting a lot of obstacles in their lives at the moment.

He'd never been one to question why things happened, but at the moment, he couldn't help but wonder why God had led both he and his father to be embroiled in such anger and hate.

Though his father had killed Perry, Jacob knew that it had been his own anger that had spurred it. If he had learned long ago to control his emotions where Perry was concerned, then he wouldn't have held so much in.

And wouldn't have been so angry with Perry back on that dreaded night.

So when would you have finally stood up for yourself? A weak, suggestive voice inside his head murmured. Back when you were waltzing in late for school?

Or . . . the day you both skipped school and went hunting instead?

Jacob wished he couldn't remember that day. The episode had been so disturbing, he'd worked hard to try to erase it from memory. But of course that couldn't happen.

The two of them had been alone in the woods, small-gauge shotguns in their hands. Looking for rabbits.

Jacob had slaughtered hogs before. He'd killed chickens, and helped his father dress a deer more than once or twice. But he'd had a soft spot of rabbits.

He'd never been able to eat rabbit stew, no matter how well his mother made the meal. And so he'd continued to hesitate when a rabbit crossed their path.

Perry, of course, had never hesitated. By the end of their four hours, he had collected five hares.

“You're the worst hunter I've ever seen in my life,” Perry scoffed.

“I'm just having a bad day. That's all.”

“I think you're chicken. I think you're afraid to hurt the little rabbit.” He'd changed his voice to a child's, slurring the words slightly. “Is that what's wrong, Jacob? You don't want to hurt the bunnies?”

“Perry, you were with me when I landed the buck last Thanksgiving. I'm obviously not afraid to shoot my shotgun.”

“But today you've hardly done more than hold that gun.”

“You've gotten plenty of rabbits. If I'd really wanted to shoot a rabbit, I would have.” He started walking, hoping Perry would let the subject drop.

But Perry never let things drop that he didn't want to. “Prove it,” he whispered.

Jacob turned his way. “Prove it how?”

Perry pointed. And sure enough, there in the distance was a pair of rabbits. It was obvious that they'd known they'd been spotted. They were frozen in their spots like rabbits often were. Their brown fur blended in well with the bark of the oak tree behind them. So well, a person with weaker eyesight might not even have spied them.

“They're yours,” Perry said generously. “Shoot them.”

“We have enough.”

“Do it. Do it or I'll know you're chicken.”

Jacob lifted the eyepiece to his eye and pulled the trigger. Through the finder, the rabbit flinched then went still as Jacob's shotgun shell had found its mark. The rabbit's companion paused for a half-second, then ran through the brush.

Lowering the rifle, he glared at Perry. “Happy?”

“Whatever,” Perry said, and started walking.

Jacob realized that Perry hadn't even expected him to go get the hare. And he didn't want to. He ached to leave it on the ground, ached to turn around and pretend it had never happened.

But he couldn't even do that.

With a pounding heart, he walked over to the dead rabbit, picked it up by its hind legs, and carried it home. And then he forced himself to skin and gut it and give it to his mother to cook.

Jacob recalled that he couldn't eat the stew, and that he had promised himself to never speak of it again—because, he'd realized then, that there were worse things than being called chicken.

And that was being called a killer.

The front door of the store opened, thankfully blocking out the rest of the memories. “May I help you?” he asked the man he didn't recognize.

“You got any fresh bread?”

“
Jah,
sure.” He escorted the man to the bakery section and showed him the fresh loaves that had been delivered from the bakery on the other side of Marion.

After, a few more customers came in, not the usual crowd, but continually steady. More than enough to keep his mind off of the memories and the guilt.

The store was empty when the bell at the front door chimed again. Looking up, he smiled, “Hey, Deborah.”

“Hello.”

“Did you come here to check up on me or to work?”

She paused, a secret smile on her lips. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

“That wasn't necessary. It's pretty quiet in here. I don't need the help. I'm fine.”

Looking at him carefully, she shook her head. “No, you need the help.”

“Why is that?”

“You don't have either of your father's kittens out for show.”

“I fed them this morning, but they seemed happy enough in their cage.”

“Your father wants them out for sale. Go get them, Jacob.”

“I don't want the kittens out.”

“I know. Do it anyway.”

With a jerk, he turned and tromped back to the storage room. Predictably, the kittens were nestled together, looking completely at peace. When he picked up the cage, they sprang apart, like lovers caught in a compromising position. “Sorry, cats,” he said as he carried them forward.

“Deb, I don't know if anyone's going to want either of these cats.”

“Someone might. Next time I work, I'm going to suggest people get them as a pair. It would be a shame to divide them up, don'tcha think?”

“I don't know how you're going to get anyone to buy the pair. Most folks only want one pet at a time.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Not if we offer them as a buy one get one free.”

“A two for one deal, hmm?”