But why? “Well, in that case, I guess you could say I’m doing about as well as can be expected after embarrassing myself with Calvin Fisher.”
“That’s kind of a strange way of putting it.”
“I hate that I let a couple of brothers make me feel so bad about myself that I relapsed. I’m stronger than that.”
“Both Calvin and Mark?” Looking concerned, he said, “Was Mark at your house, too?”
“Oh, no,” she said in a rush, wishing that she’d taken the time to think how her words were going to sound. “Mark didn’t do anything. He just . . . Well, he reminded me that I was a lot different than him.” And the perpetually perfect Waneta Cain. Practically squirming in her seat, she said, “As for Calvin? He was being like he always was—trouble. I simply allowed myself not to care for a couple of hours one evening.” Pressing a hand to her cheek, she said, “I learned my lesson, though. And, before you ask, no, I haven’t seen him since.”
He studied her as he took another bite, chewed thoughtfully, then sipped the last of his shake. “You know, I actually didn’t intend to talk about all that.”
“What did you intend to discuss?”
“I don’t know.” He smiled suddenly. “Me? You? I was hoping I could find a way to get you to relax a little bit more around me. Then I could ask you out.”
“Like on a date?” Oh, no. Had she just said that?
Grinning now, he nodded. “Guess I’m pretty bad at this, huh?”
“If you’re bad at it, I’m worse. I don’t have a lot of experience dating.” She didn’t have any experience with men doing the stuff they did in movies and books, where they picked her up at her front door and treated her like she was worth their time and money.
“Will you think about it?”
“Yes.”
Looking pleased, he said, “In the meantime, I’m going to plan to have a bunch of meals here. Maybe I’ll even try that tuna melt next time I come in. And a chocolate shake, too.”
“If you keep eating like that, you’re going to have to run morning and night.”
“That’s okay. I still haven’t given up hope that I’ll have company. Now, here’s a question for you. How many times have you actually been inside Horse Cave?”
The sudden switch of topics made her laugh. As they chatted, his questions about the cave and the surrounding areas encouraged her to think about a lot of things she usually took for granted. Newcomers to the area were often surprised to learn that their town was actually built on top of an actual cavern.
“I’ve only been inside twice.”
“That’s it?”
“It was enough. It’s not like Mammoth Cave; it’s a dark and wet place.”
Eddie frowned. “How come?”
She laughed again as she told him what she knew about the cave’s history . . . even the rumors about how it got its name from outlaws who hid their horses deep inside. Eddie listened with interest, asking her all kinds of questions. Making her feel like she was interesting.
Later, when he left, she realized she’d never take conversations like that for granted again. They were too sweet. Too special.
CHAPTER 21
Thursday, August 11
Mark had now called on Waneta Cain two times in two days. This visit had been just as successful as the first.
Almost becoming a habit.
“Come back soon, Mark,” Gettie called out from her front door, waving like she was saying good-bye to a long-lost relative. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Feeling a bit like he’d stepped into another man’s life, Mark returned her wave, smiled at Waneta, then started home. In his arms were two bags of food. One was filled with leftovers from today’s visit; in the other, a block of white cheddar cheese and a loaf of freshly baked bread.
“Everyone can do with fresh baked bread and some cheese from S&L Salvage, don’tcha think?” Gettie had said when she’d placed the bounty of food in his arms.
Overwhelmed by such kindness, he’d mumbled a barely coherent response. “Danke. I will enjoy everything.”
“I know you will. You need to eat more, Mark.”
Biting his lip, he turned to meet Waneta’s eyes. They were bright with amusement. She shrugged and smiled.
After thanking Mrs. Cain again, he collected the items with pleasure. He was going to have fresh bread later that night, and a couple more cookies, too. Such food could never be taken for granted.
Now, as he walked along the street, he allowed himself to remember another time when he’d gotten such a gift. It had been when he was still a child, probably no more than eight or nine. It was the last day of school before Christmas break and everyone in the classroom had been so excited about the upcoming days off.
Everyone but him, he’d thought. Calvin had still been young enough to be hopeful about Christmas. He still believed that their parents were going to up and change and suddenly act like the other children’s parents. Though Mark knew that wasn’t going to be the case, he hadn’t had the heart to burst Calvin’s bubble. All it would do was make him sad and whiney, and Mark had enough to do without dealing with that, too.
Because of all that, at the end of the day he was the last child to leave the classroom. Just as he was putting on his coat, Waneta’s mother walked inside.
“Mark,” she’d said. “I’m so glad you are still here.”
“How come?” he’d asked.
Her smile widened. “Because I have something for you.” She held out a canvas bag with a little Velcro flap on it.
He’d taken it suspiciously. “What is it?”
“I made you some cookies and granola bars.”
Opening up the flap, he saw at least two dozen individually wrapped snacks. The scent of chocolate, brown sugar, and molasses made his stomach growl. He knew that if he only ate one or two a day, he could make them last for the whole break. He could hide the bag in his backpack. No one would look in there and they’d be his secret.
But something felt strange about accepting it. “Did you bring everyone a bag?”
“Nee, Mark. Only you and Calvin.”
“Did you already give Calvin his bag?”
“Nee.” Looking at him directly in the eye, she said, “I thought you might want to give it to him later. Maybe on your way home.”
Mark knew if Calvin got a tote filled with snacks, the first thing he’d do would be to tell their parents. Their mamm would probably just look at it in confusion.
But their father would be angry. He’d use it as a reason to get mad at the both of them. Would likely say that they’d been bellyaching about their home to the teacher or to the other kids.
Then they’d no doubt get punished.
He knew what he had to do. “I don’t want them,” he said, before walking out the schoolhouse door.
He could feel Mrs. Cain’s disappointed look resting on his back, but he didn’t pause to say anything. It was better if she thought he was mean and rude. That was better instead of poor and hungry.
“You ready, Calvin?” he’d asked, his voice sounding gruff, even to his own ears.
“Jah.” With a smile, Calvin trotted to his side. “Guess what? Some of the kids said when they get home, they’re gonna have hot chocolate and popcorn, on account of it being the last day of school before Christmas.”
“Good for them.”
Calvin scampered a bit to keep up with Mark’s stride. “Do you think Mamm will have that waiting for us?”
“Nee.”
His brother’s eager smile faltered. “You sure? Maybe—”
“That ain’t how things are at our haus. You know that, Calvin. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
When Calvin’s steps slowed, Mark breathed a sigh of relief. It was better this way. Better for Calvin to stop hoping for things that were never going to happen.
Mark shook off the memory, hating how it made him feel. If he could go back in time, he would have taken the cookies, of course. At the very least they could
have eaten a bunch of them on the way home.
All refusing had done was make him sadder and angrier at the world. It hadn’t changed one thing about his life.
WHEN MARK WALKED in his front door, he half expected someone else to be waiting for him. That seemed to be the case these days. People were popping up out of his past without notice. Causing him to react without thought.
However, the house was quiet. It was also dark, thanks to the fading sunlight outside. After lighting a kerosene lantern, he set the tote bags on one of the kitchen countertops and opened one of the windows that had a screen, just to encourage some fresh air.
Then he walked through each room in the house to make sure there were no signs of visitors while he’d been gone.
But like the kitchen, everything seemed peaceful and didn’t look disturbed. He sat down on his bed and removed his heavy boots and socks. Then wiggled his toes, glad to feel the cool, smooth wood underfoot.
Feeling relaxed, he walked back into the living room and sat down in the lone chair there.
The chair was new. He’d probably paid too much for it. He should have either kept the furniture that his father had left behind, or bought something at a thrift store. But he hadn’t been able to.
Actually, keeping the furniture that had been left behind hadn’t even been a possibility. It reminded him too much of long evenings spent watching his father either drink or smoke himself into a stupor. Or of him standing in front of the chair while his father sat and yelled, blaming him for Calvin’s leaving and his mamm’s taking off.
No, he told himself sternly. One trip down memory lane was more than enough for one afternoon. He needed to concentrate on something else. Anything else.
But when he heard the footsteps at the front door, he stood up with a sense of relief.
It seemed he wouldn’t be alone with his memories for the time being after all.
Opening the door, he braced himself for whoever was there.
But when he saw Preacher Eli, he couldn’t have been more surprised. Instead of greeting him right away, he stood and gaped at him in confusion.
Preacher Eli was only three or four years older than himself. He’d grown up in Charm, Ohio, and had moved to Hart County when he was twenty-one or twenty-two. His and his wife’s families had helped them buy some rich farmland, the price of property being much less in central Kentucky than in northern Ohio. Since then, Eli had been a farmer and a popular member of the community.
Mark heard he’d become a preacher only the year before. It seemed that the Lord had been very wise when He’d guided Eli to be called. Eli was a gifted preacher and a kind man.
But Mark had never heard of him doing evening house calls.
“Is everything all right?” Mark said at last.
“Of course. I just decided to pay you a visit. I’m glad I caught you at home. I wasn’t sure if you were inside. It looked mighty quiet.”
“I just got home, as a matter of fact. Would you like to come in?”
“I would.”
Little by little, good manners returned. He waved a hand inside. “Do you want coffee or a glass of water?”
“Water sounds good. Danke.”
When Mark turned to go to the kitchen, the preacher followed. Whistling softly, he said, “My, look at the floors. They are going to be very fine.”
“I hope so. They’re gonna take a lot of work, but they’ll be worth it,” he said as he got them both glasses of water.
“Are you planning to work on them this week? If so, I could come by with two or three men from my cousin’s shop and help you prep them.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate that,” he murmured. It felt a bit strange to accept such help so quickly, but he couldn’t think of refusing. Not when there was so much to do. “I had forgotten that some of your family owns a woodworking shop.”
“One by one, we’re all moving out here. We like Kentucky. I like to do carpentry from time to time as well. It makes for a nice change in routine from my usual preaching and farming.”
Mark had always thought it would be mighty hard to be a preacher. Names were drawn by lots, and the job was assigned for the rest of a man’s life. “The Lord has blessed you, for sure.”
“He’s blessed us all.” Preacher Eli took a chair and stretched his legs out. “I came over to see how you were doing. Are you having a difficult time being back here?”
Well, that was surely blunt. But what could he say? “Jah.”
Preacher Eli’s eyebrows raised before he broke into a broad grin. “I’m glad you don’t mind speaking the truth.”
“You might not say that in a few minutes. I’m afraid it’s been quite a trying day. I think I don’t have any more space in my head to phrase things gently.”
“It’s my lucky day, then. ’Cause I surely didn’t come over here for you to keep your answers from me.”
“What questions do you have?” asked Mark.
“I’d like to know how I can help make your return easier.”
“I’m not sure how you can do that. Not with Amy hurt and her boyfriend telling anyone who will listen that I attacked her.”
Preacher Eli looked down at his folded hands. “Abraham is a hothead, to be sure,” he said after taking a fortifying breath. “He’s a bit confused these days, too.”
“He ain’t confused about his feelings for me. Everyone is talking about how Abraham thinks I attacked her.”
“He’s worried about his girl. When he settles down, his harsh words will, too.” Before Mark could argue that point, Eli said, “Now, what about everything else? Are you liking your job?”
“Jah. I like it fine. Henry Lehmann is a good man.”
“He’s in poor health, though,” said the preacher. “He tries to cover up his pain, but I fear it is getting worse.”
Mark nodded. “I’m worried about that, too. I’m glad I’m there to help him.”
“And to be with Waneta Cain, too, jah?”
Eli was a wily man, to be sure. Just as Mark had relaxed, he’d circled back to the one person who had him completely in knots. He would have appreciated being able to have this time to think about his feelings for her and keep them to himself.
But maybe that was the problem with his life at the moment? He was so conditioned to getting hurt, he kept everything to himself. That didn’t solve all his problems, though. It made him seem unreachable to everyone that he thought he was trying to befriend.
He needed to let down his guard and share his worries and weaknesses. Only then would other people begin to trust him.
However, it wasn’t easy. “I don’t know what to say about Waneta,” he said at last. It wasn’t a great start, but at least he was trying.
Instead of letting Mark lead the conversation, Eli simply laughed. “There’s nothing to say about Waneta, Mark. She is a lovely and faithful woman. That is enough to know about anyone. Ain’t so?”
Not necessarily. “She is also too trusting.”
“Of whom? You?”
That was exactly what he feared. “Maybe.”
Eli reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Mark, I am going to offer some advice. I’d like you to listen, but you don’t have to accept it. Okay?”
He nodded.
Looking pleased, Eli leaned back in his chair. “Here’s the thing. You can’t walk backwards all your life. You also canna get very far if you are constantly looking over your shoulder and wondering if anyone is following you.”
“I know no one is following me.” That was part of his problem.
But instead of smiling, Eli’s light-brown eyes narrowed. “You could not control what your parents did. You could not control how your father treated you. Or your brother.”
That went against everything he’d been fighting. “But—”
“Nee. No buts. You need to come to terms with this, Mark, or it’s going to eat you up inside. The fact of the matter is that you also could not help Calvin.”
“You weren’t
around then. You don’t know. He was only fourteen when he took off.”
“I realize I came after he left, but I remember the pain in your eyes—even all these years later. I have talked and prayed with the other preachers in the area about you and your family, too.”
While Mark attempted to process that, Eli continued. “You were only sixteen, Mark,” he said, each word emphasized. “You were only sixteen. You were not a man. You were not in control. Stop carrying that guilt.”
Stop carrying that guilt. Four words. Forcibly said. He swallowed hard. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”
“Nee. That’s what I know you’ve been doing. You’ve been secretly apologizing for all kinds of things that weren’t your fault and you had no control over.” He stood up then.
Eli’s relatively small stature—he was only five foot seven compared to Mark’s six foot two frame—seemed to grow in size as he looked down at Mark. “You did not hurt Bethany Williams. You did not attack her. You did not attempt to rape her.”
“I know that. I’ve been telling everyone that, too. But—”
“But you have acted like a man who was ashamed.”
“I was ashamed of who I was,” he said with some surprise.
“You are a survivor. You don’t give up. You have a good heart. You are a good person. You are someone worth knowing.”
“Thank you.”
“Nee. Don’t thank me for seeing the real you,” Eli said with obvious impatience. “Go out in the world and let everyone else see the real you, too.”
“Including Waneta . . .” There.
He finally got it.
But Preacher Eli shook his head. “Nee. Not including Waneta. She already sees the real you. That’s why she trusts you and wants to be with you. I mean everyone else.”
Everyone else. The entire population of Horse Cave. Everyone in Hart County. Even, it seemed, Calvin.
Feeling vulnerable, Mark said, “My brother came back. He wants me to sell the house and give him some money.”
“Do you want to do that?”
“Nee. I want to continue fixing it up. Make it livable. It will be a nice place to live in eventually.”
“I agree. It’s big enough for a family, too.”
His Guilt Page 15
