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“I think that would be a bargain.” Looking at the cats, now glaring at them both like prospective dinners, Deborah chuckled. “My advice is we aim for a quick sale.”

He laughed. “I can't believe we're standing here, worrying about these stupid cats.” To his dismay, in a split second, his laughter turned into tears.

Ashamed and furious, he attempted to wipe off his cheeks and his eyes, but he couldn't seem stop the flood. “Sorry,” he blurted. “Oh my gosh. I don't know why I'm doing this.”

“Have you cried yet?”

For what? He wanted to ask. For his mistakes? For Perry's death? For his father's lies? For the future they were all now destined to have? A life with a father in jail? “No,” he finally said. “I haven't cried.”

“Then it's time, I think.”

“I'm fine.” But two more traitorous tears rushed down his cheeks.

He was just attempting to apologize yet again when two arms reached around him and held him close. Deborah was tiny, her head barely reaching his shoulder. And her bones and frame were slim. She shouldn't have been able to support him at all.

But somehow she did. Somehow, being in her arms—being held close and comforted—felt right. He leaned closer and let the tears fall.

She rubbed her hand in between his shoulder blades. “It's okay, Jacob,” she murmured.

But it wasn't. He should be tougher, stronger. Not a coward. “I . . . I . . .” he sputtered. Somehow he couldn't seem to catch his breath for long enough to form words.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know you're upset. You have every right to be.”

With effort he raised his head. “I'm better now.”

She smiled and shook her head. “
Nee
. I don't think so.” Straightening, she said, “And I don't think the two of us standing this way is good.”

He was just about to agree, to say that he completely agreed that they shouldn't be holding each other in the middle of the store, when she pulled him to the counter.

“Deborah?”

To his surprise, she hopped up on the counter just like she was a child. And then she held open her arms. “Come here, Jacob.”

Next thing he knew, he was walking into her arms all over again. Resting his head on her slim shoulder. And though his tears had subsided, the need to feel the comfort of Deborah was stronger than ever.

And so he stayed where he was, nestled in the comfort of her arms. Once again blocking out the pain. Concentrating only on the moment.

Chapter 26

“It would be difficult for me to pinpoint exactly when Perry started down the wrong path. That's because a lot of paths don't seem all that wrong at first, you know? Sometimes they seem like the right way.”

M
OSE
K
RAMER

I
just talked to county. The bus is going to pick up Aaron Schrock within the hour.”

The bus, of course, was from the county jail. It was standard procedure to take all of the accused there while they awaited bail. And because the district attorney had set the bail fairly high, Luke doubted Aaron would be getting let out anytime soon.

Taking a seat across from Mose, Luke kicked his leg out. It was still stiff, but it didn't continuously ache like it used to. Not even when the rain had begun to fall again.

“I wish it would stop raining.”

His friend shrugged off his complaint in his usual relaxed way. “Wishes and dreams, you know. The weathermen say it's here to stay for a while. Maybe through the weekend.”

“Just my luck.”

“You upset? What's wrong, Luke? You got a hot date?”

“Maybe.” He had planned to see Frannie later, but that wasn't what had him restless. “I guess I'm having a hard time believing it's over.”

Mose picked up the eight-inch pile of folders and papers from the corner of his desk. “I've got lots of other cases and work to take care of. I'm glad it's over. Most of all, I'm glad we found the right person. I sure wasn't happy when I thought our culprit was Jacob.”

“I liked his dad, too.”

“Me too.” Mose shrugged. “Aaron's been a good friend to me for a long time. But you know as well as I, Luke, that sometimes it's a fine line between a man doing something honorable and contemptible. When Aaron made that choice, he crossed the line.”

“I agree.” He felt weak for even admitting his feelings. What kind of officer even thought about regrets? “Sorry. Don't know why I'm talking like this.”

“You're not saying anything I haven't thought as well. Aaron getting arrested is going to shake things up around here.”

Slowly getting to his feet, Luke walked over to Mose. “When I first got to Crittenden County, I thought you needed my help.”

“I did. I called you. Don't you recall?”

“No, what I mean is, I thought you needed my help because I was a better detective.”

Mose raised his brows. “Luke, you are—”

“I'm not. I learned a lot from working by your side, Mose. You taught me a lot about trusting your instincts, and to stop looking at cases from a distance. You taught me to take things personal, and to remember why we do things. To help others. I'm grateful to you for that.”

“You're welcome, though I think you're giving me too much credit.”

That was vintage Mose, wasn't it? Always humble. Never wanting the spotlight or the accolades. “No, Mose, I don't think I can ever give you too much credit.”

Whatever Mose would have said next was a mystery, because the bus from the county jail drove up. Frowning, he stood up and walked to the front door.

“There are some days I'm glad I'm not doing my job alone. Today's one of those days,” Mose said as he went to greet the van driver.

Luke felt the same way. He turned toward the back hall to go fetch Aaron. At least he could spare Mose from having to escort his friend to the county jail.

W
alker? Where are you?”

“I'm in the back hallway, Grandma,” Walker replied. “I'll be right there.”

But before he could get to his feet, his grandma had popped her head in. After her eagle eyes spied him sitting on his father's old bench, sore and dirty and exhausted, she bustled forward. “Walker, you look tuckered out.”

That would be an understatement. “I am. I think I walked more than that pair of horses. I know I stepped in every single hole and patch of mud in that field.”

“You might have.” Her lips twitched. “I fear the horses are taking advantage of you.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I fear that it is. Horses are smart animals. They can spy an easy target from a hundred yards away. You aren't used to telling them what to do—they most likely figured that out right quick.”

Walker would have been ashamed of his uselessness . . . if he weren't so tired. “Plowing fields is a lot harder than it looks, Mommi.”

“Most things are.”

Very aware of how sweaty he was, he shifted. “I'm going to go shower in just a minute. I was just resting.” He pushed back a lock of his hair with two fingers on his right hand, which weren't blistered.

Right away his grandmother noticed. Taking hold of both of his hands, she turned them palm up and then winced at the sight. “Oh, Walker! Your hands are in terrible shape. When did this happen?”

He looked at the scabs that had formed on top of his old blisters and the quarter-sized sore that had formed on his left palm. “When I was trying to guide the horses.” And when he'd chopped wood for hours. And had to mend a couple of fences. And mucked-out stalls.

“You should have said something.”

“There was no need. I'm fine.”

“You are definitely not fine.” With a clicking motion, she looped her fingers around his wrist and pulled him out of the doorway and into the kitchen. When they got to the sink, she ran the faucet. When she deemed the temperature warm enough, she scooted him closer. “Wash.”

He was in no hurry to put the soap on the open wounds, but he knew she was right to want his hands clean. “I was going to go wash upstairs.”

“And I'm sure you still will. But now we can talk, too.” As Grandma Francis guided his hands under the faucet, she squirted some soap on her hands, then gently rubbed his own.

Just as if he was still a child.

He closed his eyes, letting her smooth fingers remove the grime from his palms. As always, his grandmother's touch was gentle and strong. So much like the woman herself.

“Walker, are you positive this life is what you want?”

“I'm positive that I want Lydia in my life.”

She turned off the faucet and folded his hands into a fluffy kitchen towel. “I know you love her. But I fear you might be taking on more than you are ready for.”

“I'll get the hang of farming, Grandma. My skin just needs to get a little tougher.” Okay, a lot tougher.

“I'm not just talking about farming.”

“I went to church with you yesterday at the Yoders.”

She opened up the towel and inspected one of his hands with a frown. “I know,” she said. She then examined his other hand, tsking over the torn skin.

“Did I do something wrong at the service?”

“Not at all. I'm not judging you, Walker. I am merely asking questions.”

“Lydia said I did all right. And I kind of enjoyed being there. Even though, you know, I hardly understood a word of it.”

Her lips twitched. “You wouldn't be the first man to think the three-hour service felt long, Walker.” Wryly, she added, “Some might even say understanding all the words don't help. It's still a long sit.”

“But being there, it also felt right. I was peaceful, sitting there. Watching other men and women deep in their faith. It made me want to deepen my faith, too. And that is for me, Grandma. It has nothing to do with Lydia.”

“That is a relief to hear.” Going back to the faucet, she filled a glass with cool well water, then handed it to him. “Drink,” she ordered. While he did, she asked, “Have you talked to your father about all this?”

“A little.” When the glass was empty, he set it on the counter.

“And?”

“And I think he's as confused as anybody.” He was tempted to stop talking, but then decided to reveal all that he was thinking. It seemed like the right thing to do. “I'm afraid he thinks he's made a mistake with me.”

“How so?”

“I think my dad's been so happy with his life, he's wondering how I can want something that he worked so hard to get away from.”

“Hmm. Well, he'll get over those doubts, I imagine. You are doing much the same thing as he did. Breaking away from your parents takes a lot of strength. If he isn't proud that you've become your own man, he will be.”

“What about Grandpa? Does he think I'm being foolish?”

“Foolish? Not at all! He's proud of you, Walker. As am I.”

“And you think I'll do okay? I mean, after I learn to plow a field decently?”

“I think you'll do just fine, Walker.” After glancing at the clock over the oven, she said, “But for now, you'd better run upstairs to the shower and get the rest of you cleaned up. I do believe you are about to have a caller.”

“What? Who?”

She pointed to a buggy and horse riding up the driveway. The buggy was black of course. But the horse was silver. “Lydia's here.”

“Grandma, I smell like dirt.”

She chuckled. “Oh no, son. I promise, you smell much worse than that! Go shower.”

“I'll be quick.”

“Don't be too quick. You're going to need a lot of soap, I fear. I'm sure Lydia and I will have a nice visit until you come back downstairs. Go on now, Walker.”

His grandmother's advice was so good, it almost didn't hurt to climb the stairs, two at a time.

Chapter 27

“Deborah used to follow us everywhere when we were in school. One time I asked Perry why she followed him around so much. Perry grinned and said he wasn't the one she was following.”

J
ACOB
S
CHROCK

I
n her arms, Jacob must have cried for a solid fifteen minutes, his shoulders shaking with the force of his emotion. Never had Deborah felt so needed or loved.

It had taken an incredible amount of trust for him to let down his guard enough to cry in front of her. Through it all, she'd patted his back and murmured reassurances. She didn't know if what she'd said even registered, but she'd meant every word. Together, they would get through this. She was sure of it.

Now Jacob was looking at her like he wished he was anywhere else on earth. His cheeks were red and his gaze wary. “I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry.”

Deborah ached to tell him that she was glad he cried. But she knew there was no way a man like him was going to take that the way she'd meant it. “It's okay,” she said instead.

“I bet you want to leave now.”

“Why on earth would I want to leave?”

“Because I'm so weak. Crying in front of you.”

“I've never thought you were stronger,” she said. “It takes a strong to man to admit when he's weak.”

“You think?”

“I don't think I've ever thought you were stronger than right at this minute,” she said honestly. So he wouldn't get anymore embarrassed, she said, “How about I stay and work at the store with you?”

“There's no reason for you to do that. It's pretty dead here.”

“Maybe there's another reason I'd want to stay. Maybe I'm not ready to be away from you yet.”

He blinked, then slowly smiled. “You know what? You're pretty amazing, Deborah.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I can't think of another woman on earth who wouldn't hate me if she were in your position.”

He was wrong, of course. What had happened to their families wasn't their fault. Both of them were victims of their relatives' poor judgment.

She didn't think she was the only woman to realize that, either. Jacob was a good man. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he had a good heart, and he worked hard, and loved his family, too.

He also just happened to be handsome. To her, he'd always been the most handsome man in the world.

Afraid to tell him that, she kept things easy and light. “It just shows you that I'm a mighty special person, Jacob. It's time you realized that.”

He looked at her, really looked at her. His gaze warm and tender. “Maybe I have. Finally.”

“What have you realized?”

“I've realized that you've been in my life for so long for a reason,” he said quietly. “I think God put us together to give each other support. I think maybe we're meant to be together. I don't know if anyone else in the world could understand the pain we're both going through.”

“So what's going to happen to us? I hope we'll stay together.”

Pressing his lips to her brow, he smiled softly. “I hope we will.” After a moment, he said, “Who knows what will happen with the store. I can't imagine that my mom will want to keep running it. It wouldn't be the same without my
daed,
anyway. But this store is as much a part of my life as it was a part of my parents'. It's going to be really hard to see it closed.”

“Maybe you can keep it running.”

“Me?”

“Why is that so hard to imagine? You've been pretty much running the store for the past few years.”

Hope shone in his eyes . . . as well as a good bit of doubt. “Do you really think anyone is even going to want to shop here again?”

“Jacob, perhaps people aren't staying away from you because they're upset about what your father did. Maybe they're trying to give you some space. I promise, things will turn around in time. They always do.”

He shrugged. “At this point, I don't even know what to say or do. Or who to worry about.”

“Then let's just worry about today. I think that's enough. Let's get through today and then we'll worry about tomorrow tomorrow.”

“It's not that easy.”

“Sure it is.”

Running his fingertips over her cheek, he looked at her in wonder. “Have I told you that I don't deserve you?”

“I promise, you do, Jacob. If I know anything, it's that we deserve each other.” He'd just enfolded her in his arms when the door opened and a group of four ladies walked in.

They were English tourists, obviously in town for the day.

Stepping away from her, Jacob looked like he'd never been so happy to have customers. “May I help you?”

“We just wanted to come look around. People have told us that you can't come to Crittenden County without stopping by Schrock's Variety. My friend Jean said this place wasn't to be missed.”

Deborah smiled warmly. “Is that so? And where are you from?”

“St. Louis,” another replied. Stepping forward in her olive green jogging suit, she added, “I'm so glad there's not a crowd here. Tuesday's going to be bad, you know.”

“Why Tuesday?”

“A busload from the retirement home is coming here on Tuesday.”

“A busload? Truly?”

The woman laughed. “I wouldn't kid about that. Your store has become a destination, young man.”

As the ladies spread out and began shopping in earnest, Deborah covered her mouth with her hands. When she could contain her laughter, she dropped her hands and smiled at Jacob. “See? Everything's going to be all right. We'll get through today . . .”

“And then we'll get through Tuesday.”

“And then before you know it, we'll look forward to another day. It's going to be okay, Jacob,” she said quietly. “It really is.”

“I think you're right. And I think you'd best stay here by my side, too. These ladies look like trouble,” he joked when one of them came a little closer.

“Don't worry, Jacob. I'm not going anywhere.” After all this time, during the worst of their sorrows . . . once again, they were able to find a sliver of light.