DEDICATION
To Laurie Smith. Thank you for inspiring me in more
ways than you can imagine! You are a blessing to me.
EPIGRAPH
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.
JOHN 15:13 (NIV)
Whatever your past has been, you have a spotless future.
AMISH PROVERB
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .* About the Author
About the Book
Read On
By Shelley Shepard Gray
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
CHAPTER 1
Horse Cave, Kentucky
August 4
He was watching her again.
As she handed her customer change across the counter of the Blooms and Berries nursery, Waneta Cain did her best to pretend that their newest employee was not inordinately interested in everything she did. He was simply observant.
Surely, it was just her imagination playing tricks on her anyway. Mark Fisher was probably trying to see how she handled the checkout counter. She used to watch Mr. Lehmann all the time when she’d first started at the nursery.
That had to be the reason.
“Thanks for your help, Neeta,” Mr. Killian said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’d be lost without you.”
“I’m simply glad I could help ya,” she told the Englisher with a bright smile as he lifted his box of seedlings from the wide well-worn countertop. “See ya soon.”
The man tipped his ball cap. “You sure will if I can’t get these to bear fruit. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck and good blessings, too.” After helping him with the door, she let it close behind her with a satisfying thunk.
She chuckled to herself. That Mr. Killian was a terrible gardener but a frequent customer. She sincerely hoped that one day he would develop that green thumb he wanted so badly.
“Do you always act that way?”
A shiver coursed through her as she turned.
Meeting Mark’s dark-brown eyes, which seemed to be studying her intently, she struggled to appear calm. “Like what?”
Mark stepped away from the row of metal shelves located in the back of the store. He’d been unpacking boxes and restocking shelves for the last hour. Methodically sorting and organizing merchandise while she helped customers. “Like they’re your friends,” he replied. “Like you’re so happy to see them.” Stepping closer, he lifted a shoulder. “Is that how you really are . . . or is that just an act?”
She didn’t care for the way he seemed to be insinuating that she wasn’t genuine. “It’s not an act. Mr. Killian is in here a lot. He’s nice. We are friends.”
“He’s English and must be fifty years old.”
“I don’t see how that matters. I can like people who are different than me.”
“Maybe you can. But you were sure smiling at him a lot. Or do you do that on purpose? To make sure that he will return?”
His question made her uncomfortable, but his sarcastic tone made her angry. “I don’t know why you are asking such things. I really don’t like what you are suggesting. I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary or smiling at customers in any special way. I’m just being my regular self.”
“Huh. So you treat everyone with smiles and kindness. You are friends with all sorts of people. Even people who are different from you. Except me.”
“I’ve been perfectly amiable to you,” she retorted. Except, of course, that was a lie.
“I don’t think so,” Mark murmured. “I’ve been here seven hours, four of them barely six feet away from you.”
She knew that. She’d known exactly where he was every moment that they’d been together. “And?”
“And during all that time you’ve hardly said ten words to me. You sure aren’t smiling at me.”
She opened her mouth, closed it again. What could she say? He wasn’t wrong.
Mark stepped closer, invading her space. She could see the fine brown hairs on his forearms now. Noticed that he hadn’t shaved in a day or two.
“Is it because I was once taken in for questioning?” he asked quietly, his dark-brown eyes watching her, as if he feared she would run. “Or, is it just me? Do you not want anything to do with me, Waneta?”
Her palms were sweating. She fisted both as she tried to come up with an answer. He was right on all accounts. She was uneasy around him.
Fact was, Mark Fisher was a large man. Tall and well-muscled. He had a rough way about him, too. It was disconcerting.
Of course, she’d always felt uneasy around him. He’d been an angry teenager, always glaring and short-tempered with most everyone. After he finished school, he’d worked for a few people around town. Rumor had it that his brother, Calvin, had taken off soon after their mother did. Mark had even lived in Mr. Lehmann’s home for a time, until he was taken in for questioning about Bethany’s assault.
And after he was questioned, then let go for insufficient evidence, he disappeared for two years.
Now he was back.
Mr. Lehmann assured her that Mark hadn’t done anything wrong, but a lot of people in the community still believed that he was the masked man who’d beaten Bethany Williams. It wasn’t much of a stretch. Bethany had told lots of people that her assailant was over six feet tall and was very strong. But she also said that she wasn’t able to identify the man.
Few other details had circulated after that. Then Bethany and her family moved up north, practically the moment she was released from the hospital.
Realizing Mark was still waiting, Waneta said, “I haven’t spoken to you much because we don’t know each other.”
His eyes narrowed. “But that’s not really true. We knew each other once. We did go to the same Amish school.”
“You were ahead of me in school. We hardly talked then.” He was only three years older than herself, but they were miles apart in terms of how they’d lived their lives. He’d also been the kind of boy she’d been a little scared of. He was rough and had always seemed so angry.
For a second, he looked dumbfounded. “So, you do remember.”
“Of course I remember you and your brother, Calvin. Our school wasn’t that big, Mark.” Feeling pretty good about how self-assured she was sounding, Neeta folded her arms across her chest. “But that was a long time ago. Years have gone by.”
“Yeah. You’re right,” he said slowly. “Years have gone by. Practically a whole lifetime.”
He sounded so sad. She wondered what was going through his head. Did he regret hurting Bethany? And what had he been doing for the two years since it all had happened? Why had he even come back to Horse Cave? Surely, there were other, far better places to start over.
The door jangled as a co
uple came in. Like Mr. Killian, they were regular customers. James and Katie Eicher were Amish and lived on a large farm on the outskirts of town.
Glad for the reprieve, she smiled at them. “Hiya, Katie. James. How can I help you?”
Just as Katie was about to answer, her husband put a hand on her arm. “Go wait in the buggy, Kate.”
Katie looked at her husband in confusion, then blanched when she caught sight of Mark. Without a word, she turned and walked back out the door.
When it closed again, James glared at Mark. “What are you doing here?”
Mark lifted his chin. “I work here.”
“Is that true, Neeta?” James asked. “Did Henry actually hire him?”
“Jah. Today is Mark’s first day.” Unsure how to handle his anger, she cleared her throat. “Now, um, how may I help you?”
“Where is Henry?”
She looked around the room, which was a ridiculous exercise, seeing as it was perfectly obvious that Mr. Lehmann was not there.
“He’s out back,” Mark said, pointing to one of the four large greenhouses behind the retail store. “You want me to go get him for ya?”
“I don’t want you to do a thing for me,” James said. “I’ll go find him myself.”
Mark rocked back on his heels. “Suit yourself.”
Neeta winced at his flippant tone.
James, however, looked irate. Pointing a finger at him, James said, “I’m telling you now, Fisher. You stay far away from my wife. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.”
Instead of looking cowed, the corners of Mark’s lips lifted. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll do everything I can to ensure that you leave here for good.”
Mark narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
Ignoring Mark again, James turned to her. “I can’t believe you are working in here with him. Do your parents even know?”
Before she could say that they did not, James strode out the door. It slammed in his wake.
For a good couple of seconds, Neeta stared at the door. She tried to calm herself, especially since she’d just realized that her hands were shaking.
Why was she so rattled? Was it because she was afraid of Mark Fisher?
Or because James’s anger had been so scorching?
“You never answered him,” Mark said from behind her, startling her out of her dark thoughts. “Do your parents know that you are working here with me?”
“Nee.”
“Why not?” he asked. “Is it because you’re afraid that they’ll want you to you stay far, far away from the dangerous Mark Fisher, too?”
Before she could answer, the door opened again. This time it brought in Mr. Lehmann.
He looked from Mark to her and sighed. “I came to check on how you two are doing after James Eicher’s visit. It don’t look like you’re doing too gut.”
“I’m fine, Mr. Lehmann,” she said. “But, um, well, it’s four o’clock.”
“Which means it’s time for you to get on home,” he said with a kind smile. “Grab your things and get on your way. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled weakly as she turned toward the back storage room, where her belongings were stowed. For the first time since she’d started working at the nursery, returning to work filled her with dread.
She didn’t trust Mark. Worse, she didn’t trust herself when she was around him.
CHAPTER 2
August 4
Mark exhaled as he watched Waneta Cain hop on her bicycle and ride down the driveway toward the main road that led into Horse Cave.
What was wrong with him? He’d been nothing but rude to her all day. He’d been so direct and angry, it was like he’d been picking a fight. Why had he acted that way?
After Henry turned the Open sign to Closed and locked the front door, he walked to Mark’s side. “Care to tell me what’s been going on between the two of you?”
“Not really.” When Henry crossed his arms over his chest, obviously ready to stand and glare at him until he got the explanation he’d asked for, Mark dared to tell the truth. “All right. I’m pretty sure she’s scared of me.”
“Scared might be putting things a bit harsh, son.”
As it always did, Henry’s use of son eased him like little else did. Henry Lehmann was the only person Mark trusted.
He was also the only person with whom he could let down his guard. From the time Mark was old enough to care, Henry had believed in his worth, even when his parents hardly knew he existed. Even when his teacher looked at him warily, like he was about to steal something off the top of her desk.
Henry had also taught him about love and kindness. About steadfastness and loyalty, too. For that, Mark tried his best to give the sixty-year-old man honesty, even when it hurt to be so vulnerable.
“Scared might be harsh, but it’s accurate,” Mark said. “I meant to act better, I tried to act better, but after Waneta hardly looked at me for most of the day, something snapped. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”
“Sounds like the both of you had a difficult day, then.”
“No worse than you. My being here cost you customers, didn’t it?”
Henry walked to the counter, opened the cash box, and started counting the bills. “If you’re talking about James Eicher, it ain’t no great loss. He doesn’t come in that much anyway.”
There was his answer. His presence was costing Henry money and that was no way to repay him for the job. Mark’s pride told him that he should quit, not burden the best man he’d ever known. And certainly not take out his frustrations and anger on a sweet, nice woman like Waneta Cain.
But he had no other options for employment. No one else had wanted to hire him, and Mark had asked most everyone in the area. He needed employment and he needed the money it gave him if he was going to follow through on his goal of living in his old house and fixing it up into something special.
Henry squeezed his shoulder. “Stop fretting, Mark. I’m sure you didn’t say anything to Neeta that canna be soothed with an apology. Waneta is a nice girl with a fine heart. She’ll come around. Other folks will, too. It just takes time.”
He hoped Henry was right. “I’ll try harder tomorrow.”
“I reckon you’re trying hard enough. Just relax and settle in. Once you show Neeta the real you, she’ll like you fine. In no time, the two of you will be getting along like salt and pepper.”
“You make that sound so easy.”
Compassion filled the older man’s light-blue eyes. “I suppose it won’t be easy. But remember this. I’m not going to fire you.”
“Danke.”
“I’m also not going to let you quit.”
The older man looked like a bantam rooster, he was so fired up. “So you’re saying that I’ve got no choice but to stick it out,” Mark teased.
“None whatsoever,” Henry replied with a trace of humor sparkling in his eyes. Handing Mark a silver ring of keys, he said, “Now, go out and lock up the greenhouses. Double-check that all the water hoses are turned off, too, if you please.”
Taking the key ring, Mark exited the building and exhaled. The August sun was still burning bright in the sky, practically scorching the ground below. They really needed rain.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tense muscles around his neck. Maybe it was the weather that was making him so crazy. The ninety-degree heat, combined with the high humidity, was enough to make even the best of men feel out of sorts.
As he entered one greenhouse after another, he dutifully checked the hoses and picked up anything that he was sure was out of place. At the same time, he attempted to reconcile his reasons for returning to Horse Cave in the first place.
He hadn’t had a good childhood here. His parents had been emotionally abusive and completely negligent. Though they were Amish, nothing about their way of life followed the Ordnung, the set of rules that governed everyday Amish life. Mark remembered the preacher or bishop visiting
their home often.
After those visits, things would get better, then progressively get worse again. Looking back on those days, Mark knew his parents had done very little to help or provide for him or his younger brother, Calvin. He’d hated that. Had resented them, too. He and Calvin had been the hungry boys in the classroom. The ones with the dirty clothes and the homework never done.
As he’d gotten older, Mark tried his best to look after his brother, but his efforts were never good enough. By then, Calvin had changed. Gone was the hopeful boy who yearned for acceptance. In his place was someone who was conniving and desperate. He’d ignore Mark’s efforts to get him to study, and spent most of his free time away from home.
Then, just when Mark thought their situation couldn’t have gotten any worse, it did. One morning, after a particularly bad fight, he and Calvin woke up to their father sitting at the kitchen table alone. He informed them that their mother had left in the middle of the night, and she wasn’t coming back.
When Calvin blamed their daed, their father hit him. Hard. Scared and fed up, his little brother left that day. He was barely fourteen.
From then on, it was just Mark and his father. Mark wasn’t sure why he stayed. His father had been angry and emotionally abusive. He’d stopped working, stopped going to church. Eventually, he left the faith, and started being even more self-destructive.
Mark began taking odd jobs to help pay the bills and buy food. Henry Lehmann had always allowed him to work around the nursery, sweeping and cleaning the greenhouses and walkways on the property.
And though he kept going to church, and even met with the preacher, much of their community distanced themselves even further from him.
His brother’s leaving had nearly broken him. His mother’s departure, his father’s abandonment of their faith and descent into drug use, had left him shocked. However, it was the church community’s disregard for his needs that caused the most pain. He’d never felt more alone.
But it was being suspected of assaulting Bethany Williams that had shaken him to the core.
How had that happened? How was it possible that a girl in their community had gotten attacked? And how come Sheriff Brewer decided that Mark was the one who’d done it? He’d spent most of his life trying to do the right thing in the worst sort of circumstances. He finished school, tried to take care of his brother. He’d even tried to take care of his parents.
His Guilt Page 1
