His Guilt

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  She thought they were friends. After he’d come over and they’d spent hours playing cards together, she felt that they were becoming closer, that he was feeling the same spark that she was.

  But it looked like she was wrong.

  Yesterday, she’d tried to encourage Mark to reach out to her. She teased and cajoled. She smiled and reminded him of how nice it had been to have him at her home. She was willing to do just about anything to get him to gaze at her in that warm, trusting way again. But nothing seemed to work.

  Actually, all her references seemed to make him even more distant.

  Therefore, in an effort to shield her heart, she was stepping back. Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t simply scarred from his childhood and being unjustly questioned. Or, maybe, it was something simpler than that. Maybe he simply didn’t like her as much as she liked him.

  All she did know was that she was tired of trying to convince Mark Fisher that she was worth his time and trust. It was time to treat him as she would anyone else. Like a coworker. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Ironically, her new attitude caught his attention on Tuesday. He seemed confused by it. More than once he tried to talk to her about her sudden coolness toward him. He looked hurt when she didn’t immediately smile and act like they were best friends— which just made her more irritated. Was he playing a game with her?

  She even briefly wondered if everyone else had been right and she’d been wrong. What if he had beaten up Bethany after all? What if he was capable of forming friendships, then randomly breaking ties with the ease of breaking bread?

  If so, then she’d been a fool.

  Now, this morning, just as she was getting ready for work, her parents decided to jump into the fray.

  “When is Mark going to come over again?” Daed asked when he’d joined her at the kitchen table. “Have you asked him over for supper yet?”

  “Nee.”

  “Why ever not? We asked you to.”

  “I know, Daed.” She sipped her coffee and pretended to be concerned about her list in front of her of things to do.

  But instead of taking the hint, Daed only frowned. “Waneta, I told you that we liked Mark. Mamm and me like him a lot.” Smiling slightly, he added, “The man was good company for me, too. He doesn’t act as if my mind is as far gone as my body. Not everyone sees that, you know.”

  What could she say to that? She didn’t want to hurt her father’s feelings or his waning social life. But she had to guard her heart. “Daed, as a matter of fact . . . Mark and I realized that we don’t have much to say to each other anymore.”

  “How can that be? You two talked like magpies on Sunday.”

  Picking up her pencil, she crossed off another item on her list. “Things change, Daed. I think we’re simply going to be work friends for now.”

  Her mother frowned as she bustled around the kitchen. When she walked over to pour Waneta’s glass of orange juice, she said, “Neeta, I watched the two of you playing cards on the front porch.”

  “Mamm, you were standing at the window?”

  “I’m not going to apologize for caring. Not especially when I watched Mark smile at you.” Her voice softened. “It was a sweet smile, daughter. A tender one. It was obvious that he didn’t just want to be your friend. He wanted to be more than friends with you.”

  That reminder stung. But so did his change of heart. “Just because he wants something more doesn’t mean I do. It takes two, you know.”

  “I agree. But it also takes a willingness to want to get to know someone better. Ain’t so?” her mother asked as she fussed in front of the oven again. “Neeta, if you two got in a little argument, you need to stop being so stubborn and get over it.”

  “Mamm, just a week ago, you were gossiping about him.”

  “That is true, and I feel badly about that,” she said as she fussed with the edge of her apron. “I’ve done a lot of praying. And I took Preacher Eli’s sermon to heart.”

  “We both did,” Daed added. “You should, too.”

  Waneta barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “I hear what you’re saying, but I can’t live my life according to Preacher Eli’s wishes.”

  “You should, though. Mark is a good man,” Daed said. “Give him another chance. He needs a person like you in his life.”

  “I did give him my friendship. It wasn’t a good decision, though.”

  “Why not?” her mother called out as she fried bacon. “What happened?”

  This was really too much of a conversation to have first thing in the morning. But the timing was as much her fault as anyone’s. All week, she’d changed topics every time her parents brought up his name.

  After taking a fortifying sip of juice, she said, “I think he has secrets, Mamm. A lot of secrets.” There. That should give her parents an understanding about Mark.

  But instead of looking concerned, her mother chuckled. “Well, of course he does.”

  “Don’t you find that a bit of a red flag?”

  “Not so much. If you already knew everything about him, you two wouldn’t have anything to learn about each other.”

  She was talking as if they were already a couple. They were absolutely not. “I don’t want to be in a relationship with a man whom I canna trust.”

  Her father frowned. “Something happened that you didn’t tell us.”

  “You’re right. Something did.”

  “Now would be a good time to share, child.”

  She knew that tone well. It was too ingrained in her not to respond accordingly. “On Monday, right toward the end of the sidewalk sale, Sheriff Brewer came to Blooms and Berries. He looked serious and asked to talk to Mark privately. And when I tried to talk to Mark about it, he pushed me away. He said there was nothing for me to worry about. That it was his business, not mine.”

  Silence met her statement.

  She swallowed. It was too bad that she had to burst their bubble, but she supposed she couldn’t shield them from distressing news all the time. “Now do you see why I need to keep my distance?”

  “I can see how it must have been an awkward moment,” Mamm said. “I bet poor Mark was embarrassed!”

  Wait a minute. Poor Mark?

  Shoving a plate in front of her, Mamm said, “Here. Have a pancake.”

  That pancake looked like it would sink to the bottom of her stomach like a rock. But she knew better than to refuse it. Picking up a fork, she cut off a bite-sized bit and popped it in her mouth.

  “No syrup?”

  “You know I don’t like syrup, Mamm. But thank you for the breakfast.” Dutifully, she ate another bite. It tasted like cardboard.

  After refreshing Waneta’s coffee, her mother sat down to watch her eat. “This is only my opinion, but I think you need to be more understanding of Mark’s past.”

  “Mamm, I did everything I could. He’s the one who is keeping me at an arm’s length. He doesn’t want to be close to me.”

  “Take another bite, child.”

  Feeling like she was growing younger by the second, Waneta did as she was bid. Chewing slowly, she watched the second hand on the clock above the sink make its way around the dial. She had about five more minutes, then she was going to be able to leave.

  And what a blessed relief that would be!

  After sneaking a piece of bacon off her plate and eating half of it, her father spoke. “Dear, do you remember when I told you that I didn’t learn English until I was in seventh grade?”

  She set down her fork. “Jah. You said it was difficult.”

  “It was harder than that. I went from only speaking Amish to having to learn to both speak and write English. I was frustrated with myself and more than a little resentful with my best friend, Arnie.”

  “Why was that?”

  “Arnie’s parents had taught him and his sister English on their own, years before. Arnie and Mercy sailed through all the lessons while I struggled.”

  Forgetting about the time,
Waneta watched her father. He didn’t often share stories about his past. Especially stories like this, about times that he had been struggling.

  Leaning back, his eyes clouded. “I would mess up spelling simple words and struggled with having the most basic of conversations. Arnie and Mercy corrected and teased me. All the time. Other kids heard and decided to tease me, too.

  “Here I was, thirteen. Strong, already used to hard work and a lot of responsibilities on the farm—but suddenly I was being made to feel stupid and weak.” He shook his head. “I didn’t like it.”

  Pushing the pancake away, Neeta rested her elbows on the table. “You weren’t stupid, Daed. You just had to catch up.”

  “What I’m trying to tell ya is that my struggles almost ended my friendship with Arnie. He never did try to understand why I was struggling so much. Instead of helping me, he teased me about all my mistakes.”

  “I helped him, though,” Mamm piped up.

  “Jah, she did. That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her.” While Mamm blushed like the schoolgirl she used to be, Daed looked a little sheepish. “Even after all this time, I guess I’m still a little upset about all that teasing.”

  At last, Waneta understood the point he’d been trying to make. “You think that I’m not being sympathetic enough about Mark’s past.”

  “No one at his house taught him how to have good relationships, dear,” Mamm said. “No one taught him how to love. Instead of growing up in a home where he felt safe and protected, he grew up with parents who treated him like a responsibility they never asked for.”

  “Then his mother took off,” Daed added.

  Mamm nodded. “Not long after, his brother left him, too.”

  “And then Mark was accused of that girl’s assault and the whole community chose to believe the worst of him,” Waneta said quietly.

  “I’m sure he ain’t an easy man to be around,” her mother murmured. “But wouldn’t you rather choose to think that he just needs someone to care enough about him to teach him about love and relationships?”

  “You’re making me feel awful.”

  “I don’t want you to feel bad, child. But, well, maybe be more patient with him. He cares about you very much. I know he does.”

  Standing up, Neeta rinsed off her plate, then pulled out her cooler from the refrigerator. Once again, it was heavier than usual. There was obviously a lot of extra food in there. “How did you know I was sharing some of my food with Mark? Did he tell you?”

  Joining her at the sink, her mother said, “I knew because I raised you, daughter. You would never let another person go hungry if you could help it.”

  Turning, she wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and hugged her tight. “Danke, Mamm. You are the best mother a girl could ever ask for. Daed, you are wonderful-gut, too.”

  While Daed laughed, her mother kissed her brow. “You are a good girl. Now you’d best go or Henry ain’t going to be happy.” Looking at the clock, she said, “You’re running a bit behind this morning, you know.”

  “Jah. You are going to have to pedal a little faster than normal to make up for your dawdling this morning,” Daed said.

  As Waneta walked out the door, tote bag in one hand, loaded cooler in the other, she had to laugh. Her parents were wonderful, that was true. But they definitely weren’t perfect.

  None of them were.

  Yet another thing to remember.

  SHE HURRIED DOWN the road to Blooms and Berries, hoping Mr. Lehmann wasn’t going to be too upset with her. Hopefully, Mark got there on time and took care of most of the usual morning chores.

  The nursery was quiet when she opened the retail store’s door. Both Mark and Mr. Lehmann were sipping coffee and talking quietly in front of the main counter. Henry looked a little listless while Mark’s expression was shadowed.

  This was mighty unusual. Most days when she arrived, Mr. Lehmann was already busy with some task and usually had a list of chores waiting for her the minute she arrived.

  “Oh, here you are, Neeta,” he said instead. “I guess it is just about that time to open.”

  A terrible sense of foreboding settled inside her. What had happened now? She glanced Mark’s way. Hopefully, he wasn’t involved in another crisis.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, hoping and praying that Mark was all right . . . and that he wasn’t about to stonewall her again.

  Mark and Mr. Lehmann shared a look. “Please, tell me,” she pleaded.

  “All right, then,” Mr. Lehmann said as he stepped closer. After a slight pause, he blurted, “Amy Miller was attacked last night.”

  After dropping her things on the ground, she rushed toward him. Like most other Amish girls in the area, Neeta had known Amy for years. “What do you mean?”

  “June found Amy injured in her front yard last night,” Mark said when their boss looked like he couldn’t get the words out. “Someone tried to rape her. When she fought back and screamed, he hit her several times. He knocked her out. She was unconscious when June came upon her.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “Is . . . Is she okay now?”

  Mr. Lehmann nodded. “From what I understand, she’s shaken up and scared, but okay. As okay as she can be after such an ordeal.” Looking at her sadly, he continued. “She’s home and resting now.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  Mr. Lehmann nodded. “Jah. For sure. Her beau, Abraham, is mighty upset, however. He’s already been at the sheriff’s office, demanding answers.”

  “Demanding answers? She doesn’t know who did it?”

  “Nee. It seems the man had a mask on his face. Of course, when she came to, he was nowhere to be found. June didn’t see him, either,” Mark supplied, his voice carefully flat.

  Waneta shuddered. “I can’t believe that this happened in our town. Ag—” She stopped herself from saying again.

  “Nee, you can say it. It happened again.” Mark’s eyes looked so dark they were almost black. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it on the way here.”

  “Jah, I thought maybe you had heard the news and decided to stay away,” Mr. Lehmann blurted.

  “I didn’t hear anything. My mother made me pancakes and wanted to talk. Then, I was so worried about running late, I didn’t talk to anyone the whole way here. How did you both hear about it?”

  “I heard at the diner this morning,” Mr. Lehmann said. “It’s all anyone could talk about.”

  “Henry told me as soon as I got here,” Mark added quietly. His tone was stiff and awkward sounding.

  Usually, Waneta would have asked Mr. Lehmann if she could leave and go right to see Amy. But the pain in Mark’s eyes was so fresh, she didn’t have the heart to leave him. Amy had a lot of people who would be surrounding her with concern and love.

  But Mark? He only had Mr. Lehmann and her.

  “I’ll be sure to stop by Amy’s house tonight,” she said, taking care to keep her voice light.

  “You sure you’re okay with waiting so long?” Mr. Lehmann asked. “If you don’t feel like working, I understand.”

  “I’m sure. I think I need to work.” Eager to change the topic, she said, “Mark, did you get the cashbox ready or turn on the solar fans?”

  After visibly gathering himself together, he shook his head. “Nee, but I’ll go do that right now.”

  “I’ll work on the cashbox, then,” she said, just as two cars pulled into the parking lot.

  She needed to take her mother’s advice to heart and imagine what it was like for Mark. He was expecting the worst from her. That was what his wary, blank look was all about.

  It looked like she was going to have to start making sure that she surprised him with how different she could be.

  CHAPTER 15

  Wednesday, August 10

  Mark felt like he was in the middle of a recurring nightmare. From the moment Henry had told him about Amy Miller’s attack, he’d been in a daze. His thoughts were hazy. Scattered.

  The
firm hold he usually had on his emotions felt tenuous. Worse, he felt like he was on the verge of losing everything good that he’d found since his return. That was difficult to swallow. Were all of his recent blessings truly that fragile? He hated the idea that everything he was so hopeful about could vanish in an instant, before he’d even gotten used to them.

  He felt paranoid, too. The timing of Amy’s attack seemed too coincidental. He couldn’t shake the idea that it had something to do with him, like someone had used his return as an excuse to hurt an innocent woman.

  Just as quickly, shame consumed him. How could he even be fixating on how this event affected him and his life? An innocent girl had almost gotten raped, and he was upset with how the community was going to perceive him. When was he ever going to be able to shed his past and not view everything from a tainted perspective?

  For most of the morning, Waneta worked in relative silence by his side. She darted wary glances his way in between customers, most of whom were Amish and seemed to be trying their best to ignore Mark. Though she wasn’t acting completely distant, she did seem to be acting a little quieter around him.

  He was relieved when Henry eventually asked him to work on one of the flower beds in front of the store. Henry liked to have the beds filled with seasonal annuals and switched them out a couple of times a year.

  As he dug holes and added a row of yellow chrysanthemums, Mark turned his thoughts back to Waneta.

  He wished they were someplace more private. Then he could ask her why she seemed so distant. He needed to know what was behind her silence.

  Was she acting reserved because he’d been so aloof all week? Or was it something darker? Maybe she was afraid of him again. Maybe she was afraid of whoever had attacked Amy. Maybe she was simply upset about what had happened. Any of those options seemed like a good possibility.

  If they were, he wanted to be there for her. Comfort her as best he could. He cared about her, as much as he cared about Henry.

  “Excuse me?” a woman in running shorts and tank top called out from the door. “Could you help me with these begonias? I just bought four pallets and I need some help getting them to my Jeep.”