“Kevin knew you loved him, Callie.”
As always, Aunt Dot put her finger on what I was thinking, rather than what I said. “I hope so.”
She nudged my chin up with her soft fingers. “Don’t live in the past. You need to live the life God has given you here and now.”
“I know.” I did know. Sometimes it was hard to fight against the what-ifs and could-have-beens, but I had healed enough that I usually stopped my thoughts before I got sucked into that mess again. “I sometimes think about how life would be like with Todd, and I know it would be different than with Kevin, but I’m still scared.”
“It’s not a bad thing to approach a new relationship with caution. Especially now that you are older and wiser. I always thought you and Kev married too soon after meeting one another.” She picked up her crochet hook. “But you don’t want to walk in fear, either. You’ve climbed a lot of mountains and won many battles.”
“Yes.” I touched the dirt in her pot of geraniums. Too dry. “I don’t want to go back to acting like Much-Afraid.”
We grinned at each other. Hannah Hurnard’s book, Hinds Feet on High Places was a favorite of both of ours. “I’ve followed the Shepherd too long now to doubt Him.”
Her eyes twinkled as she held up her ring finger. “Me too. And I never thought I’d be headed toward this kind of journey again.”
“I think you’re braver than I am.” I stood and stretched, then leaned in to give her a light hug. “I need to go. Todd’s going to meet me at the store later. We’ve got a criminal on the loose, and I’ve got research to do.” I pointed at her playfully. “Your job, ma’am, is to pray like all git-out, to quote Sister Erma.”
“You got it.” My aunt laughed. “You’re going to be an adventurer yet, Callie Erickson. By the way, you’ve heard your parents’ news, I take it?”
News? I had noticed this morning that I had a couple of messages from my mom but hadn’t bothered to read them yet.
Aunt Dot held tight to my hand, so I couldn’t turn away.
No, I hadn’t heard their news. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The last time my parents had “news,” it involved them uprooting everyone’s lives and moving from Ohio to Zambia, West Africa.
“They have news?”
“Yes, ma’am. Their furlough is coming up, you know, and they’ve decided to spend the year right here in Short Creek.”
My parents were coming here, to my little town, to live. For a year. I should be happy about that.
But I wasn’t.
I loved my parents. But to have them move here, to the place where I’d made a new start, finally found peace…it was hard to explain. It was like they were part of my old life. And of course, they were. They were my parents. They had given me life, for crying out loud. Had loved me and my brother Jason the best they knew, and still did. But I couldn’t ignore the fact that all the pain and ugliness of my past was also intertwined with them. It was a paradox, and I hadn’t figured out yet how to separate all the strands. How to “be” with them.
Maybe I’d sort it all out someday. I guess I’d have to, if they were going to be here for a whole year. But right now, I’d be happy with a vacation. Preferably on a sunny beach somewhere far away.
“Come on, Annie.”
She cocked her head at me.
“We can pretend we’re on the beach, instead of in the field behind the house, right?”
She trotted alongside of me as I tromped through the field and toward the walking path. I was glad Sharlene was watching the store right now. I needed a few hours to think and pray. I knew myself well enough that if I didn’t spend enough time doing either, I would become cranky and out of sorts.
The sun was almost hot today near the beginning of March. Almost Good Friday. I tried to pull my thoughts toward the devotion I had read that morning, but instead, I kept circling back to Erma’s will.
Why would she make such specific requests? It was almost as if she knew something…like she was trying to force someone’s hand. Hmm. I made another lap around the field, stopping to stare at the miniature donkeys right over the fence. Funny little creatures. They didn’t have anything to worry about.
Scriptures from Matthew 6 dropped into my mind. “Why do you worry? Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
That was for sure. But… “Okay, Lord.”
Annie glanced up at me, her tennis ball in her mouth.
I kept praying out loud. Annie was used to it by now.
“I know You are in control. But I can’t seem to figure out all of the pieces.” I kept going back to the will. Hadn’t Karen said that she thought Erma had made a will more recently than this one? If so, wouldn’t a newer one supersede the older one?
I texted her. When you meet with the lawyer, ask if there’s a more recent will. Slim chance, maybe, but Karen needed closure. Even without Kenny’s land, it appeared Karen stood to inherit quite a bit of money from Erma’s estate, but that wasn’t the point. And what in the world was a “token of promise?” And how would we know if someone had it?
And what had Kenny said about a barn? I squinched my eyes closed for a couple of seconds, trying to think. This morning, I had listened again to the recording of Kenny and Morley’s conversation in the hospital room. Kenny said something about wishing Morley and June would have left him alone to raise his daughter. What did that mean? He also said he saw “her” do something because he was in the barn? Her, who? Was he out of his head? Or should I take it seriously?
I tried to think. Did Kenny even have a barn? I drove past his house all of the time, but then again, I wasn’t the most observant person in the world. I couldn’t remember. Maybe I’d swing past there on the way to C. Willikers this afternoon and see if there was a barn on the property. But then what?
Annie dropped her ball on my foot. I bent to retrieve it, and noticed a tiny flower poking its head up through the brown prairie grass. How could such a delicate little thing fight its way up through the cement-like Texas dirt? I touched the tiny white petals with the tip of my finger. I didn’t think I wanted to find out what Kenny was talking about it. Visions of gruesome massacres rose up in my imagination.
Stop it, Callie.
I straightened up and chucked Annie’s ball for her again. I needed to stop thinking what might have happened in the barn. But the other part of this whole thing that bugged me was the story that Erma told Sharlene. I rehearsed what I knew—Erma woke in the night and heard someone. She came out with the golf club and surprised the men. Then—wait a minute.
Had Erma said they were men, specifically? I guess I assumed they were men, but maybe not. And how many people?
I called Sharlene. “I need you to think of exactly what Erma said to you about that night she heard the robbers in her house.”
“Um, okay.”
“Did she ever say how many people there were?”
Silence. “I don’t know. It sounded like two, I guess.”
That was less than helpful. “Did she ever say they were men, or did you assume that?”
“Um, I’m trying to think.”
I could picture her biting her thumbnail.
“I don’t think she said men. I think she said like ‘people.’ But maybe…I don’t know. Why?”
I grimaced. I didn’t want to tip my hand if Sharlene was truly involved. “Nothing. Just trying to help Karen get things settled with Erma’s stuff, and it seemed important. Did she say anything else at all about that night?”
“No, I don’t think so. But if I think of something, I’ll text you. Are you going to be here this afternoon?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in the next couple of hours or so. Has it been busy?”
“No. Only that one lady with the big jewelry.”
Lady with the big jewelry?
“June Blackman? The real estate agent?”
“Yeah. She walked all around the store like she was looking for somet
hing. I asked if I could help her, and she said that she’d come back later to talk to you.”
Awesome. Just who I wanted to see today. The woman who stood in the way of Hope House. The one who “ruined” Kenny’s life. The one who tried to kill him?
But why?
I threw Annie’s tennis ball with a vengeance. “Okay, Sharlene. I’ll see you in a little while.”
Annie brought the ball back but wouldn’t drop it. Maybe she was done playing for now. She lay down with it, panting hard.
“God, show me what I’m missing. I know You’re working.” I gazed up into the thicket next to me. In the early spring bareness, I could see the tangle of vines that were usually hidden under the foliage. My thoughts felt like that. Looped around, crisscrossing every which way. The chickadees hopped up and down the branches, twittering back and forth as if discussing an important issue.
Marianne.
Marianne, Jim’s wife. How did she fit into the puzzle?
If Jim has been homeless in Kansas, where has she been all this time? If she was Sharlene’s mother, as I suspected, had she really jumped off a bridge and died? Or could she still be alive?
And why was Kenny’s property that now belonged to Erma…at least I thought it did...why was it so valuable? It would be an amazing site for Hope House. Right off Highway 95, it was twenty-four acres, the property description said, with a creek running through it. There were a couple of small structures that weren’t worth anything, but we didn’t care about that anyway. Could this be God’s provision for Hope House, if we could untangle the whole deal?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Todd and I discussed it over lunch. “I’ve racked my brain, and I can’t think of why Erma would specify the things she did, unless she was trying to force someone or something out of the woodwork.”
He sipped his iced tea. “I agree. Maybe someone confided a secret that she couldn’t tell, but she was trying to get it out in the open.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she was privy to crucial information. Information that we are missing.”
“This will was drawn up around the same time that Jim and Marianne disappeared. Do you think—?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking, but Todd was on the same wavelength, I guess.
“Seems like a stretch, but I’ve seen a lot of strange things over the years. How’s Harry taking Jim’s situation?”
“I haven’t seen him since the other morning when you were with me, but Aunt Dot says he’s okay. He’s planning to leave for Kansas tomorrow, I think.”
“I’m sure they’d ship Jim’s body without Harry having to travel to Kansas.”
“Yes, but he wants to go. He wants to talk to people. See if he can find out a little more about Jim’s last few years, if possible. They were close when Jim was a teenager. I got the feeling that Harry kind of viewed him as his son, since Jim was so much younger than him.”
“Makes sense. Has Harry talked to Sharlene yet?”
“Nope. He wants to poke around in Kansas for a little while first. I guess they have Jim’s belongings.” I let out a sigh. “At least that’s one piece of this that I don’t have to wonder about anymore. Also, I…” I squirmed a little bit, but I knew I had to do it. “I’ve been…worried…that I killed Sister Erma.”
Todd did a double-take, then grinned at me. “Seems like that’s something you’d be pretty certain about, darlin’.”
My cheeks grew hot. Why did I think I had to confess this to him? “Those muffins I took to her the day before she passed. They had chamomile in them,” I whispered.
He wrinkled his brow. “And?”
“What if she was allergic to chamomile? A lot of people are. She might have gone into anaphylactic shock and—”
“Callie.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “How long have you been worrying about this? Don’t you think an EMT knows the signs of that?”
“I would think so, but—”
He shook his head. “I hope you didn’t torture yourself over this.”
“I might have. Just a little.”
“Aww, sweetheart. I wish you would have asked me. Besides, even if the EMTs somehow missed that, I could have told you that she’s not allergic to chamomile. When she was my teacher in tenth grade, she always had a mug of chamomile tea on her desk. Said it helped her deal with high schoolers in a calm fashion.”
“Thank God for that.” I blew out a breath.
His eyes twinkled. “So, Nancy. Besides that, have you and Karen solved Sister Erma’s mystery?”
“Not yet. But I’m on it. Are you volunteering?”
He grinned at me. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“If you’ll agree to pray about something for me.” Suddenly serious, he smoothed my hair back over my shoulder.
That should be easy. “Of course. As long as it doesn’t have anything to do with tea or muffins.”
“Will you agree to pray with me about our future?”
I gulped. “Our future?”
“Yes. Yours and mine.” He ran a knuckle down my cheek. “I love you, Callie.”
Was he proposing? My face grew hot. “I love you too.”
He cupped my face in his hand. “I know you do. But I also know that you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Am I?
It suddenly dawned on me that I wasn’t stuck on whether Todd went back into law enforcement or not. I was trapped by fear in general. Fear of the unknown. Fear of risk. Fear of change. How to get past that?
I leaned into his hand. “You’re right. I am kind of scared. It’s just that I’m not sure I’m ready. What if I’m a terrible wife?”
He laughed. “I don’t think you’re in danger of that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Because I know you. You are a kind, loving woman who cares deeply about others, even if you have a hard time showing it.”
I dropped my eyes. “That’s not enough,” I mumbled. “You have no idea how self-centered I can be.”
“Callie.” His voice was gentle. “Look at me.”
I lifted my chin.
“Don’t you think you’ve changed in the last five years? Even if you believe you could have been a better wife to Kevin, don’t you think you’ve grown since then? Matured? Changed?”
“I know I have, but—”
“Okay, so God is still working on both of us, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m asking you to pray about our relationship. That God would do what He needs to do in both of us, so we’re ready when the time comes.”
Would I ever be ready? I wanted to be. At least I thought so. “I’ve been praying already. A lot.”
“So have I. But I think it’s time that we pray in agreement about this, truly asking for His will to be accomplished in our relationship. I know I still have baggage.”
“Yeah.” I squirmed a little, then met his gaze. “I want you to know that I’ll support your decision to join the police force again.”
He rubbed his thumb across my cheek. “That means a lot to me, Callie.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t think of what else to say about that. “But for the other part—I guess I’m afraid to get my hopes up. I thought I knew Kev when I married him. But after a year or so, I realized that he wasn’t at all the person who I thought he was. I know you’re not him. You’re you. But still.” I sighed. Might as well tell him about my parents now, too. “I have more stuff to tell you.”
“Another confession?” He raised a dark eyebrow.
“No. Nothing bad. But, well, you know my parents have been in Zambia for a few years now.”
“Uh-huh. Are they all right?”
“Yes.” I heaved a sigh. “Except that it’s time for their furlough.”
“Okay…”
I flexed my jaw. “They’ve decided to move here for a year.”
“To Short Creek?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. How are you with that?”
I grimaced. “I’m not sure. Aunt Dot only told me this a little while ago.”
“They didn’t tell you themselves? Seems like a pretty important thing for them to relay through Dot.”
I knew he was taking offense for me, and my cheeks burned. I had to be honest with him, especially since he had never met my parents. They were wonderful, godly people. It was me that was the problem, obviously. “I think they probably did try to tell me. I saw a couple of missed texts from my mom in the last day or two.”
Todd growled. “You’re going to have to deal with this at some point.”
And sooner rather than later, it appeared. It seemed God always had a way of making me face my shortcomings. Or rather, my sin, if I was honest. I pushed the thought aside. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”
Thankfully, Todd took my cue to change the subject. “We’ll take our time with our relationship, sweetheart. I’m not pushing you into anything, but I believe God brought us together for a reason.”
Yes, I believed that, as well. I envisioned us working side by side at Hope House, ministering to the young women who would one day be there. “Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could have that land for Hope House?” I sucked in my breath. How had I forgotten to tell Todd what Kenny had said about the barn?
“Todd, is there a barn on Kenny’s property?”
He leaned back in his chair. “I think so. Kind of behind the house? It’s hard to see with all of that junk around it. Why?”
“Remember I told you he said that ‘she’ tried to kill him?”
He nodded.
“When I talked to him that last time, he said that he saw ‘her’ do something in the barn, and that he should have told but he didn’t because he was a coward.”
“Whoa.” He thunked his chair down. “When was that?”
“I don’t know. Sounded like a long time ago, because he mumbled ‘all those years’ or something like that.”
Where There's a Will Page 20
