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“Not really, but I think we had better go.”

He felt the same way. He wasn't ready to go home to the hundred questions his father would have for him.

He wasn't ready to say goodbye to Deborah, either. Somehow they'd become closer tonight—close, like a couple. He'd felt that link between them, and he was sure Walker and Abby had sensed it, too. He ached to explore this new bend of their relationship. To coax her to tell him what she was really feeling.

But when they started back home, Jacob leading the way and Deborah right on his heels, neither of them spoke.

She seemed lost in thought, and he couldn't seem to quell the guilt he felt. Guilt for how he used to treat her, and guilt for the way he'd recently lashed out at her. But mostly, Jacob couldn't stem the feeling of despair that threatened to overtake him.

Because one thing was certain . . . if Deborah ever discovered what had really happened between him and Perry, she would never forgive him.

And he would never expect her to. Some things were unforgiveable.

Chapter 8

“Perry was never really a part of our group. Sometimes I felt bad about that. But then, of course, I remembered all the reasons he let me down.”

F
RANNIE
E
ICHER

L
ong after she'd said goodbye to Jacob and had crept back inside her house. Long after she'd pulled off her tennis shoes, wiped off stray pieces of grass and leaves that had stuck to the side and had laid them under the bench by the back door. Long after she'd stealthily climbed the stairs and had washed her face and brushed her teeth, Deborah lay in her bed and thought about what had just happened.

In the span of a few hours, everything had changed.

She'd lived most of her life being afraid to show too much emotion and afraid to get too close to other people. Growing up with Perry, who'd been a champion of using her weaknesses to his advantage, made her that way.

For the last year, she'd begun to trust Jacob less, too. At first it was because he seemed to be such a follower of Perry's. She couldn't understand why the man she'd always idolized had decided to blindly accept Perry's faults. Deborah had ached to shake Jacob. Even though it seemed a betrayal to her brother, she wanted to make him see that Perry's ideas and actions were foolhardy and dangerous.

Later, her faith in Jacob faded when she'd learned what he had become. Sometime between following Perry and his disappearance, Jacob had become angry and intense. Whereas he used to talk to her patiently, he came to hardly even look her way. He'd snapped at her and it seemed as if they'd never been friends.

Now he seemed to have changed into yet another man in her eyes. The last few days in his company had been a revelation, to be sure. It was obvious that Jacob had been hiding under a raised guard as well. Maybe he was afraid of getting hurt?

Deborah heard her mother walk up the stairs, pause, then open the door to Perry's room. She seemed to do that more and more. In the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep, her mother would open the closed door to Perry's room and look at his things, crying softly.

After an hour or so, her father would guide her out, and the door would stay shut for another twenty-four hours.

As she heard the quiet echo of her mother's tears, Deborah attempted to close her eyes. Tossing and turning in her bed, she tried to imagine a different life. What would it be like to live in a home where there was joy and laughter? Where people were honest with their emotions, and honest with her?

Perhaps the only way to change her family was to change her own actions. The first step would be to help her mother, if she was brave enough.

Was she?

“You can do this,” she whispered to the empty room. “You can take your future in your hands and cast away your fears. If you are strong enough.”

That was a vow worth making, she decided. Pulling on a robe and slippers, she opened up her door and walked into Perry's room.

With a start, her mother looked up from her perch on the end of Perry's bed. After a hasty swipe to her eyes, she blinked owlishly. “Deborah, what are you doing up? Did I wake you?”

“I was already awake.” There was no need to admit that she hadn't gone to sleep yet. “I heard you in here. I thought maybe this time you wouldn't have to be alone.”

“This time?” Her mother ran a hand along the thick quilt that covered Perry's bed. Almost like she was afraid to mess up the green-and-black log cabin design.

Leaning against the doorframe, Deborah said, “I hear you in here almost every night, Mamm.”

She clenched her hands in her lap. “I feel closer to him when I come in here. It's silly, I know. It's not like Perry invited me in here to chat when he was alive.”

No, that hadn't been his way. Perry would have met any person entering his room with a scowl. “Perry liked his privacy,” she said with a smile.

To her surprise, her mother chuckled. “Indeed, he did. Why, I remember when he was four or five, he told me he no longer needed my help when he showered. He took a towel from my hands and closed the door right in my face.”

“That sounds like Perry.” Entering the room, Deborah took a seat next to her mom. Never would she have imagined that sitting in his room would help, but it did. There, on the comfy quilt, so much of the anger that always seemed to permeate his spirit dissipated. “I was always surprised Lydia put up with him,” she said lightly.

“He was different with her, though. He was quieter, kinder.”

Deborah nodded. That was true. Perry had been different around Lydia. Far more patient and far less self-absorbed. Everyone had commented on how good she was for him. “Frannie wasn't a good match.”

Her mother smiled again. “Indeed, she was not.”

But of course, by the time he courted Frannie, he'd already made the choice to take drugs.

“I saw Jacob Schrock tonight,” Deborah blurted.

“What? When?”

“I snuck out,” she said bravely. Deciding to let her guard down a little further. “I saw him walking by our house, so I went outside and talked to him.”

“What in the world was he doing in our yard?”

“He was out walking. He said he was thinking about when he, Perry, and I used to walk to school together.”

“And Perry always made you late,” her mother mused.

“I didn't think you realized that.”

“I realized more than you knew,” she said cryptically. “So . . . what did you do tonight with Jacob?”

“We walked to the schoolhouse.”

“In the dark.”

“Yeah. He had a flashlight,” Deborah explained. Although truthfully, that explained nothing. She knew that wasn't what her mother was wondering about.

Her mother must have thought the same thing. “And?”

“And? And nothing.” She shrugged. “We just talked. I know I should have told you I was leaving, but I didn't want to risk you or Daed telling me no.”

Her mother glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “Jacob Schrock is a
gut
man. He always has been.”

Deborah shrugged, “Lately, he's seemed mad at me. Angry.”

“We're all dealing with our grief in our own way. Perhaps that was his?”

“Maybe,” Deborah allowed. But that still didn't feel quite right. “I wish he wouldn't have taken his anger out on me. I could have used his friendship these last few months.”

Perhaps it was Deborah's allusion to how alone she'd felt, or perhaps her mother had just had enough—whatever the reason, her eyes were pained when she stood up. “I know you're confused, Deborah. But I must admit that we've all probably done things we wished we hadn't.”

With her words still hanging between them, she wandered out, leaving Deborah sitting on Perry's bed, wondering yet again when everything was going to start getting easier.

J
acob was still trying to read by flashlight when his mother knocked on his door.

“Jacob?” she whispered. “Jacob, are you awake?”

“I'm awake.” Quickly, he tossed his book to one side and hurried to his door. “Mamm, is everything all right?”

“I don't know.” She slipped by him, closing his door behind them. “You had visitors this evening. I thought I should let you know.”

The news caught him completely off guard. “Someone came by after I left? Who?”

Warily glancing at his door, she said, “Detective Reynolds and Sheriff Kramer.”

He wasn't sure if he was more worried about the unusual nighttime visit, or that the sheriff and his detective friend had come to talk to him together. “I wonder what they wanted.”

“They wouldn't say. Your father was mighty upset about their visit, though. No matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't talk to him.”

Jacob could imagine that. His father liked to be in charge of things, whether they were at the store or in their home. He wouldn't have liked the two men arriving after dark unannounced, and then staying closemouthed about what they wanted to talk to Jacob about.

“What do they want me to do? Should I go by Sheriff Kramer's office tomorrow?”

His mother's eyes widened. “No!”

Jacob grew more concerned. What would be the harm in going to the sheriff's office? “Mamm, are you worried about something?”

“Not worried . . .” She ran a hand over her hair, which Jacob had just noticed was loose and down her back. “It's just that your father wouldn't want you to be seen there.” She cleared her throat. “At the sheriff's office, I mean. People might talk, you know.”

He knew they would. But that was beside the point. The last thing he wanted was to have to answer the sheriff's questions in front of his parents. That would only make a difficult situation ten times worse. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. If those men want to speak to you, I'm sure they'll stop by again.” Her smile wavered. “Or maybe they will have moved on and won't need to speak to you after all.”

He doubted that. Sheriff Kramer didn't stop by people's homes for no reason. “Mamm, why didn't you tell me this right when I got home? We must have talked for ten minutes after I walked in the door.”

“Your father didn't want to bother you.” She bit her lip. “But I thought differently. I thought you should know that the policemen came by.”

She looked so worried and unsure, he hugged her quickly. “I'm glad you told me, Mamm. Now I think I better get to sleep.”

“You'll be able to sleep? You're not upset?”

“Of course not,” he lied. “I've nothing to hide.”

Pure relief filled her features. “I'm so glad to hear that, Jacob.
Gut naught
.”

“Good night, Mom.” He kept his smile until she closed the door.

Then he crawled into bed and stared into the dark. Preparing himself for a long night ahead.

He was afraid that Detective Reynolds had finally discovered everything he'd tried so hard to keep hidden.

Chapter 9

“I've been holding on to our land, hoping to get a good price for it. But now that a man's gotten killed near our well? I doubt I could give those acres away.”

H
ENRY
M
ILLER

W
hen Deborah saw Beth and Frannie's smiling faces as they entered the Schrocks' store the following morning, their smiles warmed her heart. After the drama of the night before and another long night of listening to her mother cry, it was so good to see happy people.

“How's work today?” Frannie asked.

“It's
gut.
”

“It looks suspiciously quiet in here.” Beth glanced around dramatically. “Are there no animals for sale?”

“Just a pair of kittens.” She pointed over to the metal cage on the other side of the counter. In the cage, a pair of black and white kittens lay contentedly curled up around each other.

Deborah was wondering how they would react to being separated. Time and again, the kittens had proven to be rather skittish around the customers. Every time the pen's door opened and one of the kittens was carefully pulled out, leaving the other alone, both cats had made their displeasure known.

Just that morning, Mrs. Schrock had gotten scratched across her cheek.

“I'm right tired of these naughty things,” Mrs. Schrock said. She was dusting a few of the shelves near the back wall. “I like animals, especially cats. But these two are quite the pair. I've never seen the like.” With a frown, she said, “My husband made a poor choice when he decided to do a neighbor a favor and offer these kittens for sale. They are the most antisocial pets I've ever come across.”

Most folks seemed to agree with Mrs. Schrock. It was a very good idea to leave them alone. Beth discovered that right away. Approaching the cage, she got the usual hiss and backed up warily. “Wow, Deborah. They're a lot meaner than they look.”

From the back, Mrs. Schrock sighed. “They're a difficult pair, for sure. I doubt anyone will even take them for free.” She looked to add more when a buzzer rang from the back. “Oh,
gut
! The delivery truck has arrived.”

After the back door clicked shut, Deborah shook her head at the tiny pair of furballs. “They do seem to have little interest in being held or cuddled. I don't know what Mr. and Mrs. Schrock are going to do with them.”

“Maybe they'll stay here and be your mousers?” Frannie suggested. “A good mouser is always needed.”

“Perhaps, though I can't see them ever being that helpful.” Turning to her friends, Deborah got down to business. “Now, how may I help you two?”

The girls exchanged looks. “Oh, we just came to look around,” Frannie said airily.

Something was up with them. Deborah had never known Frannie to speak so nonchalantly. Usually she verged on being too blunt.

Curious, Deborah walked around the counter. “Did you come in here to look for anything special?”

“Maybe,” Frannie said. “I told Luke I'd make a little gift basket for one of his aunts who's coming here to visit. She's curious about his new life here, you know.”

Deborah could only imagine. The fact that Luke had fallen in love with an Amish innkeeper in a small Kentucky town had to have caught his whole family off guard. “The baskets are over there,” she said, pointing to a display of handmade baskets on metal shelves.

“Danke,”
Frannie said.

But Deborah noticed that Frannie wasn't all that interested in the baskets. And Beth didn't seem like she was looking around the store much, either.

Instead, it looked like they were more interested in chatting. And stealing looks her way.

Deborah grew impatient. “Something is going on. Come on, Beth, tell me what it is. Do you have news, too?”

Looking shamefaced, Beth bit her lip. “I do, but I don't think I should share it.”

“You should definitely not share anything, Beth,” Frannie admonished. “Gossiping helps no one.”

Deborah could agree with that . . . to a point. Now, though, she was anxious to hear about anyone else's problems. It would be a relief to not only be fixated herself. “Come on. I know gossip isn't good, but I wouldn't say a word to anyone.”

Beth bit her lip. “You promise you can keep a secret?”

“I promise. Now, come on. You girls are torturing me! Both of you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. What do you know that I don't?”

“Abby told Frannie that Walker and Lydia might break up,” Beth blurted in a rush.

That certainly was news! “What? It's obvious to everyone who sees them that they're meant to be together.”

Ignoring her own warnings about gossiping, Frannie chimed in. “I guess Walker took Lydia by his college and was encouraging her to think about taking classes.”

“Oh, my.”

Frannie nodded, looking depressed. “I haven't known what to tell her. My situation with Luke has been much different. I've been more independent, and have enjoyed owning my own business. With Luke agreeing to move here, I felt like I could step away from the church with my father's blessing.”

Deborah knew that Frannie always had doubts about her place in the community. But Lydia Plank was a far different story. She'd always seemed happy being Amish.

Yet, recalling the many times she'd smiled at other people and said she and her parents were “fine” when in fact the three of them were anything but, Deborah knew private lives could be much different than public ones. “What is she going to do?”

Beth looked at Frannie, then shrugged. “We don't know. I don't think Lydia knows, either. Well, that's what Abby Walker said. I've been praying, asking the Lord to give them guidance,” Frannie said. “He has a plan for all of us, to be sure.”

“He does,” Deborah allowed, “but I would be sad if his plan was for Lydia to have her heart broken again.”

“Love is a difficult thing,” Frannie said. “It's not easy to find the right man, you know.”

“Oh, I know that.” Little by little, Deborah found her composure slipping. It wasn't their fault, but she suddenly felt like the odd man out. Even though Beth wasn't romantically involved with anyone, Deborah had heard that she had developed a fancy for an
Englischer
for a short amount of time.

So, at least Beth was experiencing things.

And what had she done? She'd barely been able to find a job.

Practically reading her mind, Frannie reached for her hand. “Now all we have to do is find you someone special, Deborah.”

“We both know it's not as easy as all that.”

“Well,” she winked, “now that Lydia and I are off the market, all the eligible men are free for you.” With a teasing smile, she added, “And for Beth, of course.”

Sharing a skeptical look with Beth, Deborah played along. “What eligible men?”

“Like . . . Micah.”

Deborah shook her head. “He's not the man for me, Frannie.”

“Or any woman, Frannie.” Beth piped in.

Frannie shrugged. “Then how about Kevin?”

“Kevin Yoder?”

“Of course.”

“Kevin is handsome, that is true,” Beth said. “And he's going to get his parents' farm. I suppose we can't forget that. I'm not interested, but you can have him, Deborah.”

Knowing that her girlfriends were merely teasing, Deborah pretended to consider it. “Me and Kevin? I don't know.” She was about to add more when she noticed Jacob had walked toward the counter and had heard them. Cheeks flushing, she turned away quickly.

The other girls noticed. “Hello, Jacob,” Frannie said. “How are you?”

Jacob was returning their greetings when the door chimed and Walker strode in.

Thankful for someone new to focus on, Deborah walked toward him. “Hello, Walker. You aren't working today, are you?”

“No. I'm looking for Lydia.” Sounding a little distracted, he added, “Have y'all seen her?”

“I haven't seen her all day,” Frannie said.

Deborah realized that Walker didn't just look distracted, he looked pale and troubled. “Is anything wrong?”

He nodded, his head moving in a jerky motion. “My dad just called me. My grandfather collapsed at the farm. He's on his way to the hospital right now.”

Jacob stepped forward. “Do you know what happened?”

“I think its his heart.” He shrugged. “No one knows much.”

“What can I do to help?” Jacob asked. “Do you want me to go with you to the hospital?”

“Thanks, but I was kind of hoping Lydia could be with me.” Looking at the four of them standing in a semicircle around him, Walker said, “I hate to ask y'all this, but if any of you see Lydia, would you tell her what happened? I really need to get on to the hospital.”

“You don't even have to ask. Of course, I'll track Lydia down and tell her your news,” Frannie said.

“I'll pray for your grandfather's recovery,” Deborah announced.

“Thanks, Deb. Thanks, everyone,” Walker said before turning on his heel and rushing back outside.

“Poor guy,” Jacob murmured.

As she watched Walker drive away, Deborah couldn't help but be envious of Lydia right at that moment. Walker's need for his girlfriend symbolized a perfect love, indeed. Love wasn't just about feeling giddy and excited. No, it was also about comfort and security and being there for another person. If Walker was so anxious for Lydia at a time like this, Deborah was sure that things would work out for them.

Why, if she'd had someone like that, what would the past few months have been like? So often Deborah had wished for the comfort that comes from the presence of a person who would really understand her. She could only imagine that, if she'd had this kind of love, the stress and sadness consuming her could have been lessened.

Deborah was still thinking about Lydia and Walker when the door chimed.

Luke Reynolds walked in the door, and he wore an expression that made Deborah realize that he had no intention of shopping.

Frannie lit up. “Luke!”

“Hey, Frannie.”

Like a moth to the light, Frannie practically danced across the floor to him. “I didn't know you were going shopping today. You should have told me, I would have waited to shop with you.”

He smiled for a moment, brushed his thumb against her cheek, then shook his head. “I'm afraid I'm here for work.”

“Work?”

And just like that, the room's atmosphere tightened.

Pursing his lips, Luke looked a little shamefaced. “I guess I really know how to ruin a party.”

“It was no party,” Frannie said quickly. “I know you have to do your detective work. It's an important job, to be sure.”

As he looked at his girlfriend, Deborah noticed Luke's features soften. “Thanks, Frannie.”

Oblivious to his amusement, she continued. “Beth and I only came here to shop. And to see the mean kittens. And to visit with Deborah, of course.”

Luke's lips twitched. “Of course.”

“Walker was just here, but his grandfather has taken ill, so he left.” Looking mildly chagrined, Frannie finished her summation. “Deborah and Jacob here are working.”

“I was hoping they'd be here.”

Deborah held her breath.

“Did you come to speak with me, Luke?” Jacob asked, his tone stilted and hollow sounding.

Realizing he'd moved off to the side, Deborah turned to him in surprise. Jacob looked as stiff and awkward as his voice sounded. She could have sworn he'd been standing closer.

But now he seemed to be holding himself apart.

Luke looked at Jacob, paused, then stepped toward her instead. “I actually need to ask you a couple more questions, Deborah. Can you talk now?”

His tone, though kind, was far different with her than with Frannie. Though he was politely phrasing the words, it was also very obvious that the detective wasn't asking permission at all.

“I can talk. Sure,” she said.

“Let's go outside.”

The day was sunny. Suddenly, she felt like she needed all the air and open space she could get. “Okay.”

Detective Reynolds nodded at Jacob and Beth, lightly patted Frannie's shoulder, then led the way outside.

Deborah followed him out the door, down the front steps of the store, and along the sidewalk silently. The knot of trepidation in her middle felt tighter with every step she took. Her mind spun as she imagined what questions he was about to ask . . . and what answers she could tell him.

“How about we sit there?” He pointed to a bench near the back of the store. It had actually been one that she, Perry, and Jacob had often sat on after school.

Staring at the bench, memories returned. She remembered happier times, when her brother had shared a joke with Jacob . . . and how sometimes she had almost felt included.

He lightly rested his hand on her arm. “Or would you rather go someplace else? We could go sit in my truck. Or we could even go to your house.”

The last place in she wanted to get questioned was in her home, under her mother's nose. And it was truly a beautiful day. If they talked here, they would be out in the open. That sounded better than being in his truck. She sat. “The bench is just fine.”

He sat down beside her, then opened up the small notebook he carried, flipping through the pages until he got to an empty page. “Let's get started.”

Deborah breathed deep and tried to prepare herself for the worst. Once again she was going to have to think about Perry and his faults.

And recognize that she should have tried harder to help him.