She frowned. “There might be an old bottle of tequila. I gotta check. I don’t drink much anymore.”
“Good thing I have some weed, then. You up for that?”
Lora shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I haven’t done that in a while, either.” She stared at him closely. “You’re upset about Mark, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” he said, though she spied some hurt in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t look real happy to see me.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just didn’t plan on spending my afternoon like this.”
“What did you plan on doing?” He smirked. “Bible study?”
After a short pause, she opened her screened door. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s the problem? I mean, it ain’t like you’ve got any other friends coming over, right?”
A new shadow filled her gaze. “Right. Come on in and I’ll show you around.”
Calvin had no interest in seeing her house. All he wanted to do was forget things for a while. But since Lora was looking like she wanted to talk, not just hang out, he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Show me around, Lora. Can’t wait.”
When Lora closed the door shut behind them and locked it, effectively shielding them from the rest of the world, Calvin Fisher finally relaxed.
This wasn’t what he’d planned to do today, but it was better than hurting.
It was better than a lot of things he’d done.
CHAPTER 11
Monday, August 8
This is going to be a nice change, ain’t so?” Waneta asked Mark when he joined her at the outside checkout stand, just in front of the row of four greenhouses at Blooms and Berries. “I’m glad Mr. Lehmann asked us to work out here together. Usually, I man the cash register while you stock and carry.”
Mark grinned. “I’m pleased about it, too, though also worried that you might get sick of me. I’m such a talker, you know.”
She playfully nodded, since there was no doubt which one of them was the real conversationalist. “I might need to ask for earplugs or something so I can hear myself think.”
“I’ll try not to irritate you for a couple hours yet.”
“I think you might be irritating me right now,” she said with a wink. Then, realizing how mean that sounded, she said quickly, “You know I’m only joking, right?”
“Of course. You wouldn’t hurt a fly on purpose.” Looking pleased, he added, “I’m glad that you feel you can joke around with me now. It’s fun.”
“I think so, too.” Actually, she was finding that spending time with Mark was always nice. They were becoming good friends. It was a pleasant surprise.
And, if she sometimes thought of him in some way other than just as a friend . . . well, he hopefully would never find out.
As Mark watched still more people park in the lot, he said, “Have you worked many of Henry’s sidewalk sales?”
“Oh, jah. At least five or six. Mr. Lehmann holds two a year.”
“What can you tell me about them?”
Thinking about the crowds of people that seemed to come in waves, each demanding seedlings as quickly as possible, she murmured, “Just be prepared. They’re really popular and sometimes people ask for more than you can give.”
“So I need to be prepared to let them down easily.”
“Nee, you need to be prepared to be firm. Mr. Lehmann has a limit of no more than seven seedlings per person. Make all the customers stick to that.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She almost giggled. Mark Fisher was a formidable presence. She might be becoming more comfortable around him, but that wasn’t exactly the case with everyone in the county. She’d noticed at church on Sunday that while people were more cordial, they definitely were watching him with distant expressions. They still didn’t completely trust him.
That made her think that people weren’t going to argue with him.
Of course, everyone might not want to even come up to the counter if he was there. And that could be a problem. Mr. Lehmann would lose business.
And how would Mark react to that? Not very well, she guessed. Maybe even worse than not well. Maybe he would even get really angry.
Then what would she do?
“Waneta?”
“I’m sorry. My mind drifted off.” Pasting on a reassuring smile, she said, “Mark, please, don’t worry about a thing. Everyone from all over Hart County comes for plantings and seeds. It makes the day go by fast.”
“I can handle that. Thanks for letting me know what to expect.”
Realizing that he didn’t look all that happy, whether it was because of the change in routine or for some other reason, Neeta felt some of her earlier exuberance and optimism dim. “Do you want to work the register or bag?”
“It don’t matter to me, Waneta.”
“Why do you always call me by my full name?”
“I like it.”
“That’s the reason?”
“It’s a good one, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” She was starting to feel even more and more confused. “Though, I prefer Neeta. Hardly anyone calls me Waneta.”
“I’ll be different, then.”
She smiled weakly. “Jah.”
“You ready?” Mr. Lehmann called out. “I’m about to tell Ben to open the gates.”
“We’re ready,” Mark answered.
“Gut. Off we go.” Mr. Lehmann raised his voice as he moved the little walkie-talkie close to his mouth. “Ben, open ’em up!”
Almost immediately, they heard cars pull forward in one gate and other folks walk through another gate that Ben had propped open.
Every person who strode forward seemed to have a mission in mind. They darted to and fro, inspecting seedlings and grabbing some of the small mini carts that Blooms and Berries kept for just this occasion. One of Mr. Lehmann’s older employees was walking around and helping folks make decisions.
Less than five minutes later, they had their first customers at the counter. Waneta felt her stomach clench, half waiting for the two Mennonite women to refuse Mark’s assistance.
But they purchased their items easily and even chatted with Mark while doing it.
Once they turned away with cheery waves, Mark leaned toward her. “It’s going to be okay, Waneta. No one is going to be mean. But even if they are, I’ll be able to handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to, though. It ain’t right.”
“It isn’t something that I can’t handle. Besides, I knew what it would be like when I moved back here. I knew some people would have a real hard time with me being here.”
“I just want to kick some people in the shin when they are rude to you, though. We are supposed to forgive . . . and there isn’t even anything to forgive. You were proven innocent.”
Mark looked like he was going to say something more, but two men and a pair of women walked up.
And so it began.
For the next several hours, she and Mark rang people up, bagged or boxed their purchases, and helped customers. Mr. Lehmann offered to take their places at the counter so each could take a lunch, but by mutual agreement, neither wanted to leave the other.
The most Waneta was willing to do was run to take a quick bathroom and water break.
By three o’clock, the nursery was like a ghost town. Everyone who had wanted something specific had gotten what they’d wanted.
“You two did a real good job,” Mr. Lehmann said. “You didn’t even take any breaks, either. I’m obliged.”
“I was glad to help, Henry,” Mark said. “Now, how about you go home for the day? I can clean everything up.”
“That ain’t necessary.”
“You hired me so you wouldn’t have to work so hard. Let me help you.”
“I’ll stay and help, too, Mr. Lehmann,” Waneta said with a smile. “We’ve got this.”
But instead of agreeing, their boss fidgeted. “I’m afraid you ar
e needed somewhere else, son.” After a pause, he gestured toward the empty parking lot. “The sheriff just called me on my cell phone. He’s on his way over. He . . . well, he wants to talk to you.”
Mark nodded, but his face had become perfectly blank.
Waneta knew he was taken aback. She was, too. “Why does Sheriff Brewer need to speak with him?” she asked. “He’s been working here beside me the whole time.”
“I know, Neeta.”
“Then what does he want?”
“Don’t worry,” Mark murmured. “I’ll be okay.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t believe it. And now look—the sheriff is bothering you for no reason.”
“Settle down, Waneta,” Mr. Lehmann said. “No one is in trouble. You are jumping to conclusions.”
Realizing he was right, she nodded.
“It looks like he just arrived. What do you think I should do? Wait here or go over to meet him?” Mark asked.
Mr. Lehmann sighed. “Looks like he made the decision. He’s walking over toward us right now.”
Looking resigned, Mark started walking. “I’ll meet him halfway.”
“I’m sure it will go all right,” Mr. Lehmann said.
Waneta felt so helpless. Mark looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and didn’t expect anyone to lend a hand. “I’ll wait for you after we clean up,” she called out.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice flat. “There’s no telling how long this will take.”
“I don’t mind waiting.” Trying to sound encouraging, she said, “Why, I bet the sheriff just has a question about your house or something.”
But instead of seeming to make him feel better, he flinched. “I don’t want you to wait, Waneta. No offense, but I’d rather not be talking to the sheriff while you are staring at us from across the way.”
She was kind of offended. “I’m not going to just stand around and stare at you.”
“Please, just help Henry clean up and then go on home.”
“I can handle anything, and I want to help. To be there for you. I know I’m only a small-town girl who has been pretty sheltered, but I am stronger than I look.”
He didn’t hear her. He’d already walked away. Watching his back, she felt so hurt. After everything she’d been doing, how could Mark still not trust her?
“Listen to him, child,” Mr. Lehmann said.
“But I don’t want him to feel so alone. He doesn’t have to tackle everything all by himself.”
“Let him have some pride, Waneta,” he whispered.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying to help a friend,” she countered. “And I am his friend.”
“I’m glad you are. I can tell that he’s thankful for it, too. But getting in the middle of this won’t help him. He’s going to be embarrassed if you discover whatever the sheriff is going to talk to him about.”
“I’m not going to judge him,” she blurted.
Looking over her shoulder, it was evident that Mark was in a deep, serious conversation with the sheriff. Both of their stances were rigid and whatever they were talking about looked intense. “Something bad must have happened,” she whispered. “I wonder what Sheriff Brewer is telling him.” A new idea struck her then. “Or, do you think he’s talking to Mark about his past again?”
Mr. Lehmann looked concerned. “Waneta, here’s the thing. Everyone needs to keep some secrets to themselves. He doesn’t want you knowing about his past. He doesn’t want you knowing about the sheriff talking to him. Let it go.”
Not wanting to go against both Mark’s and her boss’s instructions, Waneta stepped backward. “If that’s the way you feel, I think I had better just go on home.”
His expression gentled. “Good, child. Yes, go home, and don’t you worry about Mark none. Everything will turn out in due time.”
Waneta supposed Mr. Lehmann had wanted to make her feel better with his words. But all they did was leave her feeling empty, like she had only been half filled with information. What, exactly, did he mean “in due time”? Was he thinking of a week? A month? Years?
Though of course he could have no idea what the future held for them, she had to admit that she was uneasy about how nebulous it was. She needed something to hold on to.
Turning, she grabbed her purse and the lunch she’d never eaten and walked as quickly as she could toward the main gates. The pace she was going at made her perspire, making the dark-pink dress she was wearing stick to her back.
When she was just a few feet away, she couldn’t help herself and looked over at Mark and Sheriff Brewer one last time. They were in deep discussion. Mark did not look happy and the sheriff looked serious and grim.
While it didn’t seem as if Mark was in trouble, it was evident that something serious had happened that affected him.
Taking a peek at Mark again, she saw him flinch. His expression turned from serious to ravaged. He was in pain.
Something awful had happened. But from the way he’d treated her questions, she feared that he’d never share it with her.
If that was the case, it left her feeling like her heart was breaking. Because how could she ever believe in a man who kept so much of his life closed to himself?
How could she ever have a real relationship with Mark if he refused to talk about whole parts of his life? If he didn’t trust her to support him, she wondered if there would be other situations in the future that he might try to keep hidden from her.
She hoped and prayed she was wrong. That she was overreacting and that her inexperience in relationships was making her doubt things.
But if she was right? Well, she was going to have to resign herself to only being his friend. She couldn’t give her heart to a man who was so wary.
At least, she didn’t think she could.
CHAPTER 12
Monday, August 8
Sheriff Brewer looked uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other. He pulled out a white handkerchief from a back pocket and mopped his brow. Then, at last, he continued. “So that is the reason I wanted to talk to you about this, Mark.”
“Because you saw my brother, and you know that he’s gotten into some trouble in the past.”
“It is more than just a bit of trouble. He assaulted Lora Weaver last night before taking off.”
Mark clenched his hands as shame coursed through him. Once again he was getting pulled into a family member’s crimes and mistakes and he was feeling compelled to fix them. But how could he fix this?
“Is Lora going to be all right?” he asked quietly.
“I think so. She didn’t want any medical attention. My deputy told me that she looks bad but should recover in a day or two.”
“I am sorry that she got hurt. I hate that Calvin was the cause of it, too,” he said haltingly. “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t even know they were still friends.”
“I don’t know what their relationship is. All I do know is that he was at her house partying the other night.”
“Partying?”
Sheriff Brewer looked at his notes. “When Deputy Beck entered Lora’s house, it was obvious that she and Calvin had been smoking pot. The place was also littered with beer cans, too.”
“I’m not saying that what they were doing was right, but it kind of sounds like you are pretty upset about something that two people over twenty-one are doing. Smoking marijuana is a pretty small crime, compared to some other things that have been going on around here.”
“I agree. But it is still a crime. Assaulting her is a crime as well.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
The sheriff continued. “Deputy Beck searched the house. Lora was pretty emphatic that they weren’t her drugs. That Calvin had brought them to her.”
“I’m sorry to hear this. I haven’t talked to him in years. I’ve heard rumors that he’s gotten into some trouble, but I don’t know the extent of it.”
Sheriff Brewer scanned his notes again. “Hmm. Looks like C
alvin has been arrested several times for drug and alcohol charges in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana.” Looking at his phone he murmured, “Though it seems he’s been questioned about some other matters.”
Other matters. Mark felt his stomach sink.
Calvin had made a mess of his life. It was also obvious that he was planning to change his ways. Not from what he’d seen from a distance, at least. Feeling irritated and angry at the whole situation, Mark wondered about the timing of it all.
Why had Calvin decided to show up barely two weeks after he’d arrived back in Horse Cave? It wasn’t like they had anything to do with each other. Not in years.
And what had he been doing with Lora Weaver? Mark had been under the impression that she was working at Bill’s Diner and trying to get her life back on track. Was that rumor wrong, too?
But even that didn’t explain why Sheriff Brewer had taken it upon himself to come talk to Mark about it in the middle of his workday. In front of half the town. It was almost like he had done it on purpose in order to sabotage all of Mark’s efforts to fit in and be accepted in the community.
The worst of it was that Waneta had watched with worry in her eyes. It felt like all the progress they’d made had been erased and they were back where they’d started.
He hated that. He resented Calvin’s interference, too. And the sheriff’s visit to his place of work. Lashing out, he said, “You know I wasn’t with Lora and Calvin, Sheriff. I wasn’t at her house doing drugs. And as much as it pains me to say this, what Calvin does is no business of mine. I ain’t my brother’s keeper.”
Sheriff Brewer nodded easily, like he completely understood. And, unfortunately, like he had nothing but time on his hands. After taking care to fold his handkerchief neatly again, he said, “Any idea why he’s back here?”
“None. Like I said, I haven’t talked to him in years.” Unable to stop himself, he glanced over toward Waneta. She wasn’t looking his way anymore. Instead, she was in deep conversation with Henry. It looked serious. “You already know this. We talked at length about my family when you took me in for questioning for Bethany two years ago.”
“People change. I thought maybe he had.”
His Guilt Page 8
