He mentally shook his head. “Of course.” Coming to his feet, he took one of the glasses from her. “Have you finished helping your mother already?”
She shrugged off the question. “Oh, that. Mamm and Daed wanted me out of the way so Daed could talk to you in private.”
“I thought that might be what happened.”
“Well, you thought right. I let Mamm know I wasn’t happy about that, too. They shouldn’t be inviting you over just to ask you pesky questions.”
“You shouldn’t have worried about it. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, I know that. But making you sit and talk with him the moment you got here was rude. I hope he didn’t offend you too much? Or, if he did, I’ll be glad to talk to him.”
“There’s no need for that,” he assured her. He liked that she was attempting to be his protector. However, while he might seek acceptance like a child, he surely didn’t want or expect anyone to fight his battles for him.
She sipped her drink. “Supper won’t be ready for a little while. Would you like to play cards?”
“I guess so.” Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d played.
“What about Rook? Is that okay?”
He hadn’t played that game in years, not since he’d played with other teenagers on Sunday night singings and frolics. “I like it fine.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I’ll go get a deck of cards. We can stay here or go inside.”
“Let’s stay outside. It’s warm, but not too bad under the shade.”
“Okay. Great.” He was starting to realize that her nervousness stemmed from him being a man and her a woman and not that she was afraid of him.
That made him want to gentle his voice and be even more patient with her. “Go find the cards. I’ll be right here. Waiting for you.”
Cheeks blooming, she darted back into the house. Chuckling to himself, he set the glasses on the worn table, then got up and walked to the porch railing.
It was warm out but pleasant enough. Surrounding the porch were a variety of shrubs and flowers. Boxwoods, burning bushes, and a crabapple tree decorated the bed on the right side. On the left were lavender, daisies, and black-eyed Susans. They were unpretentious flowers, he supposed. But bright and cheery, too. They reminded him of Waneta, a person who was easy and pretty on the outside, but whose sweet and caring personality shone through. He wondered if she was the gardener in the family. If so, then she was responsible for the well-tended beds. They flourished under her guidance.
He supposed he would probably transform the same way around her. Maybe some of his wildness would be tamed, too.
It was a fanciful thought. It amused him, too—realizing that he was hoping there really was something between him and Waneta. He would help her in any way that he could. And she? Well, she would give him the care and stability that he’d always craved.
Just as he was about to turn back to the table and sit down, he spied a movement near the edge of the Cains’ property. Mark stepped forward, braced his hand on the railing, and stared more closely.
Spied a bright white shirt, then focused on the figure standing in the center of a grouping of pecan trees.
Mark was about to call out to Waneta that he was going to check on something when the man stepped out of the shadows of the trees and into the broad daylight.
Curious, Mark walked down the steps. As his eyes focused, he drew to a stop. Stunned. It was Calvin. His long-lost brother.
Mark stepped forward. Everything inside of him was crying out to go to Calvin. Hug him tightly. Promise anything so he wouldn’t take off again.
But then a couple of things became apparent. Calvin was not Amish. The blinding white shirt was a T-shirt. It was untucked over a pair of dark jeans. His dark-brown hair was cut short, almost like a military buzz cut.
Calvin was also staring at him intently. His arms were crossed over his chest, his legs slightly parted. His chin was raised. He looked for all the world like he was daring Mark to acknowledge him.
Even from that distance, Mark could tell that there was nothing tentative about his brother’s expression. It looked vaguely mocking. Derisive.
Almost taunting. Like he was daring Mark to come to him.
The door swung open then. “Sorry it took me so long,” Waneta said in a rush. “I had quite the time finding two complete decks. Has that ever happened to you? Three of the card decks in our drawer were missing one or two cards. I couldn’t believe it.”
She was excited. Happy to play cards with him on the front porch. Here, at her house, where her parents had invited him to spend the afternoon with them. Where her mother was going to the trouble of making him supper.
This was his future if he wanted it. He could stay a little longer. Grab hold of Waneta Cain’s goodness and her parents’ acceptance into their life.
Or, he could make his excuses and go see his brother, who he’d once loved more than anything. The boy he’d tried so hard to protect but had failed. Who had never understood Mark, never even tried to understand his motivations for doing the things he had done. Who had left him and had never responded to his notes or calls. For years.
Who had come to find him, not at their house where they could sit and talk and try to figure things out. But at the Cains’ residence. Lurking, too. Not even announcing himself and stepping forward. Stepping back into the community.
It was a hard decision. A difficult one.
But he knew what he had to do in order to survive.
Turning around, he smiled at Waneta. “I think everyone loses cards all the time,” he murmured. “That’s why card companies keep making more playing cards. Ain’t so?”
Eyes bright, she smiled.
Mark loved her smile. Cherished it. If Waneta was his future and Calvin was his past, there was no choice. She represented everything he’d ever wanted.
Calvin? He was a reminder that everything he’d ever loved had caused him pain. He already knew what pain and rejection felt like. “You better deal,” he said as he sat down next to her. “It’s been so long since I’ve played, you’re gonna have to walk me through the first game.”
“I can do that. But eventually, you’re going to be on your own. I’m a bit competitive when it comes to Rook, you see.”
He laughed. “I’ll pay close attention, then,” he teased.
Though he still felt a prickling on the back of his neck, felt Calvin’s unwavering gaze still watching him intently, Mark never looked out into the field again.
He didn’t need to experience his past again to know that if he gave in, it would hurt.
Those memories were alive and well.
CHAPTER 10
Sunday, August 7
Calvin Fisher couldn’t believe it. His own brother had just turned his back on him. Mark had looked him in the eye, then proceeded to pretend that he didn’t exist.
After years and years of no communication, the first time Mark had seen him, he’d chosen to ignore him.
As that knowledge sunk in, Calvin stepped further into the shadows. He watched Mark sit down across from Waneta Cain, watched him lean back and relax. Just like he belonged at her house. Like he was comfortable there.
Across from him, Waneta was talking a mile a minute, all while fumbling with a deck of cards as she clumsily attempted to shuffle them. After dropping several on the ground, Mark bent down and picked them up. Then he reached for the remainder of them and proceeded to shuffle the deck neatly. As he did, Waneta gazed at him like he was doing something difficult. Then she said something to him that must have been extremely funny because Mark threw his head back and laughed.
Laughed! Mark was laughing. He was spending time with Waneta Cain, who everyone had thought was a cute girl but far too sheltered and sweet. Now she was an attractive woman and she had invited Mark into her home. And, from the way they were acting toward each other, it was apparent that he was courting her.
Courting, the Amish wa
y.
The idea both sickened and amused him. His older brother was not only still Amish, he seemed to be thriving in the lifestyle. So much so, he’d decided to return to Horse Cave and claim their childhood home.
Even after everything they’d been through inside of those walls.
Calvin couldn’t understand it, but then again, he’d never really understood how Mark thought. Mark was steady. He liked things to stay the same.
And he’d always been sure that his faith would save him and keep him from harm.
But it hadn’t.
Calvin’s body still bore plenty of scars and bruises from the many times God hadn’t saved him from his father’s anger or their mother’s neglect.
From the time he’d reached eleven, Calvin had only been able to think about leaving Horse Cave. He couldn’t wait to get far away from their dysfunctional parents. From their house that smelled like stale cigarettes and dust. From their slow-paced, backward way of life.
Not Mark. No matter how many times Calvin had talked to him about leaving together, even going as far as to list all the reasons why they should, his older brother had never agreed.
Calvin still remembered the day he’d cut his hair short, bought jeans and a pale blue T-shirt with the University of Kentucky insignia on it, and stared at himself in the mirror.
He’d looked different. In the new clothes, he’d felt different, too. Better. Almost taller. Definitely prouder.
Actually, he’d suddenly felt like he’d at last become the person he was meant to be. He’d felt like he’d suddenly had options. He could now be anyone he wanted. He could do things that had been forbidden. He could talk to people he wasn’t supposed to.
He’d known then that whatever happened, his life could only get better. But instead of supporting his decision, Mark had yelled at him.
Said he was being stupid. Talked about how dangerous life was in the outside world. Like it wasn’t dangerous in their own living room.
Being neglected and emotionally abused by two unhappy people had been awful. Going hungry and being cold in the winter had been miserable. Never knowing if their parents were going to be sober or drunk or high had been difficult, too.
But having a brother who refused to admit that their life was an essential tragedy had been painful as well. Calvin had needed him. But instead of getting support, Mark had only made excuses for their parents’ actions.
He’d gotten so frustrated with him. Calvin wished that he was the older brother, that he’d have been able to shake Mark. To shake him so he would finally see reason.
Instead, all he’d ever gotten from Mark was another lecture.
It had been a difficult decision to come back to Horse Cave, but once he discovered that their father had died, he knew he no longer had anything to fear. Since then, he’d been driving through every couple of weeks, trying to come to terms with his past.
When he realized that Mark had moved in, he knew he had to do something. That house was half his, and he intended to make sure he got what was coming to him.
After looking around the place while Mark was out, he’d felt even more sure that he had made the right decision. The house was in better shape than he remembered. He was going to be able to get the money he needed out of it.
But now everything was messed up.
Finally, he made the decision to show himself to Mark but was unable to find him. It had never occurred to him that he’d still be going to church.
So he’d waited. But when Mark didn’t return home around noon, he’d gone looking for him. It was lucky that he’d run into Lora. She’d been only too happy to tell him that she’d seen Mark walking with Waneta toward her house.
So he’d stood outside and waited. Waited to be noticed.
When Mark met his gaze, Calvin almost felt like crying. After all these years, he was at last seeing the brother he’d depended on and had looked up to. Well, who he’d looked up to until it had become apparent that he wasn’t ever going to put Calvin’s needs first.
But what did Mark do?
He turned around and ignored him. Just like he didn’t matter. Just like he wasn’t worth anything.
Just like he’d done all those years ago.
Obviously, it was time to make a new plan. Reuniting with Mark and working together to put the house up for sale wasn’t going to happen now.
Anger at the situation sliced through his very being. Why was life so hard? Why was it all so unfair?
Turning down the street, he walked back to his motorcycle. It was a late model Harley Dyna. It was banged up and more than a little scratched and worn, which was why he’d been able to afford it. It ran like a champ, though. Every time it roared to life, it gave him pleasure. It was a fitting symbol of how far his life had come from these quiet hills in central Kentucky.
Rubbing his hand along the fender, he felt a small sense of peace overtake him. Tonight, he would leave, head back to the cheap hotel he’d spied on the outskirts of Bowling Green, and figure things out. But first he decided to visit Lora again. He needed to be around someone who was just as out of place in Horse Cave as he was.
“What’s wrong, Calvin?” Lora called out from her front porch. “And where’s Mark? I thought you’d be all smiles right about now.”
Turning, he took her in. Today, she had her hair up in some kind of complicated braid. Her black eyeliner made her blue eyes stand out; and her plain white tank top and snug low-riding jeans were no doubt causing most men in the area to give her a second glance.
But what drew him to her the most was the air of hope that continually surrounded her. He didn’t understand it; she’d had as hard of a childhood as he had. She should seem a lot harder. Tougher.
Instead, it always seemed as if she was waiting for something good that was just around the corner. It was going to be a hard day when she realized that there wasn’t anything like that.
Walking toward her, he smirked. He was hurting inside, but she didn’t need to know that.
Watching him intently, she tilted her head to one side. “What happened?” In a rush she asked, “Oh! Did you not find the Cains’ house? It’s the one with the black door and the stone—”
There it was again. That optimism that she clung to. Feeling almost like he was letting her down, he cut her off. “No, I found it.”
“Then, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you with him?” Before he could answer, she shot off another rapid question. “Oh. Were they not back from church yet?” The corners of her mouth turned up. “You know how some of those old folks are. They never want to leave . . .”
“They were there.” Now that he’d answered her question, Calvin was tempted to turn around. Ignore all of her questions. Ride his Dyna, find a place to hole up for the night. He needed some time to figure out what to do next. If Mark was going to pretend he didn’t exist and actually was planning to live in the house instead of selling it, then he was going to have to think of some way to encourage him to leave. He had no choice. He needed his half of the money from the sale of the house.
But as Lora continued to watch him, he was tempted to change his plans for the night. She was staring at him like he counted. She was looking at him in the exact opposite way that his own brother had stared at him. Lora was looking at him like she was sure he had something important to say.
He didn’t know if he did or not. But he knew he liked her thinking that he did. He stepped forward.
If he couldn’t count on his own brother, then he was going to need an ally in Hart County. While Lora continued to watch him, he walked up the steps of her front porch.
She stood there. Her lightly tanned arms crossed over that white tank, the toes of one of her bare feet curling against the beat-up wood floor.
When he didn’t say anything for a couple more seconds, she raised her eyebrows. “Are you gonna tell me what happened, or are we just gonna stare at each other all afternoon?”
“They were back from church. All of them were,” he
said at last. “And Mark was there. I saw him standing on their front porch with Waneta.”
“So, what happened? What did he say when he saw you? Did he run down to say hi?” Smiling, she said, “I bet he gave you a hug. Mark always used to do things like that.”
He had. Mark had hugged him when he got hurt and scraped his knees. When they’d had no food in the house. When he’d had bad dreams at night. “No, we didn’t hug.”
“Well then, what happened?” Her eyes widened as she snapped her fingers. “Oh no. Did y’all already get in an argument? If you did, I bet he’ll come around. Mark always put up with whatever you dished out. Ain’t so?”
Her Kentucky accent, mixed in with such a typical Amish phrase, almost made him smile. “What if I told you that I don’t want to talk about it?”
Disappointment flared in her expression, but she tamped it down. “Then I’d say that you don’t have to.”
“You mean that, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “If you don’t want to talk about something bad, then I’m the last person who’s going to try to make you change your mind. I don’t like to talk about my bad, either. I’ll see you later.”
Lora was expecting him to turn around and leave. But he was starting to think riding an hour away sounded like a lot of trouble, especially when he was going to need to come right back tomorrow. “Maybe I don’t want to leave right now.”
As if she sensed a new tension brewing between them, she gestured to the pair of metal chairs behind them. “If you don’t have anywhere else to go, want to hang out with me for a while?”
He pushed off from the column he was leaning against but didn’t sit down. “What do you have in mind?”
Her body tensed. “Nothing. I thought we could just talk or something.”
“I could do that . . . if you have something to drink. Got anything?”
“I got a couple of cans of beer.”
Just as she moved to the door, he added, “You got anything else?” She was pretty, but if he was going to be dealing with his brother ignoring him, he was going to need a whole lot more than just a couple of cans of beer to get him through the night.
His Guilt Page 7
