His Guilt

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His Guilt Page 16

by Shelley Shepard Gray


  “But Calvin might have a point. The house is half his, after all.”

  “Why is it half his? Because he was born?”

  “Well, yes.” Mark thought that was pretty obvious. “I mean, that’s what is fair.”

  “But you’ve already learned that life isn’t fair, right?”

  “To be sure.”

  “Then why do you need to bend over backwards to help a man who doesn’t have any interest in helping you even a little?”

  Mark gaped. “That seems kind of harsh.”

  “I agree. It does. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  His bluntness hurt. But maybe Eli was correct. Everything that was right didn’t always feel comforting. Standing up, Mark said, “Eli, this visit of yours sure packs a wallop. I feel a bit run over and damaged.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that. But I did want to wake you up.” Pointing to the window, he said, “There’s a big world out there. It is filled with pain and hurt. To be sure. But it’s also filled with opportunities and wonderful people. And love. If you dare to step out of your prison.”

  With those cryptic words still ringing in Mark’s ears, Eli said, “Well now. I had better get on my way. I have one more visit to go before the sun disappears completely.”

  Walking him to the door, Mark said, “Hey, Eli?”

  Eli paused. “Jah?”

  “God knew what He was doing when He made you a preacher. You have a gift.”

  Eli smiled, his eyes lighting up, too. “Danke, Mark. Our Lord is good, to be sure. I am blessed that He has entrusted me with so much.”

  At the door then, Preacher Eli took his hat and left.

  Leaving Mark feeling exhausted and energized, and with four words still ringing in his ears. Stop carrying the guilt.

  He’d definitely needed to hear that, he realized as he went into the kitchen, unwrapped the block of cheese he’d brought home, and sliced a thick wedge. Then he sliced a piece of Gettie Cain’s homemade bread. After making a small sandwich, he took a bite.

  It tasted good. Tasted perfect.

  And, perhaps, like he deserved it, too.

  CHAPTER 22

  Tuesday, August 16

  Mark had asked to come in late, and Mr. Lehmann had already shared that he wouldn’t be working until early afternoon. He had a couple of doctors’ appointments over in Bowling Green.

  Therefore, Waneta was working at the nursery by herself. It was an unusual occurrence. Usually, her boss asked one of the younger boys who worked on the weekends to join her, if for no other reason than to help customers with lifting bags of mulch and carrying plants and shrubs to their vehicles. But, today, he hadn’t been able to find anyone to work. It seemed a lot of people were traveling this week.

  Waneta didn’t mind being at Blooms and Berries alone, however. Actually, she was kind of enjoying the novelty. Since she was so busy caring for her parents and the house in the evenings, it was a rare experience to have time for herself. This slow day at the nursery was a good opportunity to sort out some things in her head.

  In between helping the few people who had entered the store, Waneta had constructed mental lists of things to tackle and other things to leave to God.

  The first item had been Amy Miller. Waneta had come to realize that she wasn’t going to be able to change Amy’s opinion about Mark anytime soon. Since she was not going to simply stay quiet while Amy bad-mouthed Mark, it was necessary to give Amy space to recover. It had been a hard decision. She liked Amy very much. But that didn’t mean she had to listen to Amy’s mean comments.

  Was Amy the first of many people she was going to have to distance herself from if she continued to fight for Mark’s character? She hoped not, but it might very well be the case.

  When the door chimed, she lifted her head to smile at the newcomers, glad to take a break from her thoughts.

  Just as quickly, she stifled a groan.

  James and Katie Eicher had returned, and James looked just as irritated by life as he had the last time he was there.

  Remembering Mr. Lehmann’s words, about how it wasn’t necessary to like every customer in order to serve them well, Waneta stepped forward to greet them.

  “James. Katie. Good day,” she said pleasantly.

  Katie’s eyes warmed. “Gut day to you, too, Waneta. Is it hot enough for you?”

  Waneta lifted up her foot, showing off her yellow rubber flip-flops, which matched her pretty daffodil dress. “It’s so hot I decided to give my feet a break today. It was too hot to even wear tennis shoes.”

  “I bet,” Katie said with a small laugh. “I’ve considered wearing flip-flops a time or two myself.”

  “Except that it ain’t seemly,” James said.

  “Of course, James,” Katie murmured, all traces of laughter firmly tamped down.

  Oh, that James was just so mean to his wife! With great effort, Waneta kept her voice friendly and even. “What can I help you two with?”

  “You can find a man to assist me.”

  It was becoming harder and harder not to glare. “I’m sorry, there’s only me right now.”

  James looked around the shop. “Where is Henry?”

  “He’s not in this morning.” She didn’t think it was everyone’s business what Henry was doing. “Now, did you come in for anything special?”

  “What about Mark Fisher? Is he here? Or, did Henry finally get rid of him?”

  “Mark will be in later,” she said with rapidly evaporating patience. “Now, I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you are looking for . . .”

  “He’s still an employee? Even after what happened to Amy?”

  Though she was tempted to jump to Mark’s defense, she kept her expression as neutral as possible. “Just let me know when you are ready for my assistance.”

  “I don’t know what has gotten into everyone around here. First criminals are walking around unattended and now good Amish girls are running around, getting themselves into trouble.”

  That was the last straw. No longer caring if she was going to have to listen to one of Mr. Lehmann’s lectures, Waneta pressed her hands to her hips. “Are you referring to Amy? I believe she was attacked near her house.”

  “If she was attacked there, it’s only by chance. You know what she’s become like. Wild.”

  “I saw her yesterday. She was hurt very bad. She most certainly didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

  Katie rested her hand on James’s bicep. “James, you know we didn’t come in here to discuss Amy’s accident.”

  Accident? Before she could stop herself, Waneta said, “I don’t know if you could call her attack an accident. Some terrible man tried to rape her, you see.”

  James shook his arm free of his wife’s clasp as he strode forward. “You don’t know what you are talking about. I think you should stick to only discussing work.”

  That had been what she’d been trying to do! “I would rather you not speak to me that way.”

  “Good Amish girls are supposed to be biddable and demure. It’s bad enough that you are working in a public place such as this. But now you are defending all sorts of people who shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Are you saying that I’m not being a good person?”

  He stepped forward, overwhelming her with his size. “I’m saying you should be watching yourself and being careful about who you speak to.”

  “Or what? What are you going to do?” Waneta asked, hardly aware that the door was opening.

  “Or I’ll make sure you will be disciplined.”

  Disciplined? She couldn’t help it, she laughed. “James, what has gotten into you? Do you hear what you are—”

  He grabbed her arm, yanked it hard. So hard, she knew her arm was going to be bruised and her shoulder was going to be sore. She cried out, “James!”

  “Take your hand off of her,” Mark called out as he rushed forward.

  Instantly, James’s hand lifted. He whirled around to face Mark. He stepped
toward him, obviously looking anxious to fight.

  But Mark ignored him. He walked right by James, moving with intent until he stopped directly in front of Waneta. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Has he hurt you?”

  She realized then that she was trembling. “He didn’t hurt me. But I’m glad you arrived. In the nick of time, too.” She had the awful suspicion that James had been mere moments from doing something worse.

  He rubbed her arm with his right hand. “I’m glad I got here when I did.”

  Just as she smiled at him, James’s voice broke the moment.

  “Look at you, Waneta. Standing there. Allowing him to touch you.”

  “You need to stop talking,” Mark said. “Better yet, you need to leave. Immediately.”

  But James did not. “You’ve made your decision, haven’t you, Waneta Cain?” he asked, his voice filled with sarcasm. “You’ve pushed aside what is right and proper. Instead, you’ve sided with the likes of him.”

  “James, I think it’s time you left,” a man who had entered the store called from the back of the room.

  All of them turned.

  Waneta breathed a sigh of relief. John Paul Schlabach and Matthew Yoder had just walked inside the shop and both of them were staring at James Eicher like he was the lowest sort of man.

  “You watch it, John,” James muttered.

  John Paul strode forward, all two hundred and fifty pounds of him. “No, you watch it,” he said. “You are causing a scene and frightening your frau. I don’t know what is wrong with you, but I’m thinking you need to get your bearings. You’re on the verge of losing control.”

  James froze as John walked to his side. “John Paul, you don’t understand. Waneta here was acting uppity—”

  “Now ain’t the place,” Matthew Yoder said as he moved to stand next to James on his other side. “Go on.”

  Without another word, Katie hurried toward the door. Her head was down and her shoulders slumped. She looked defeated.

  Breathing like she’d just finished a marathon, Waneta watched Katie’s departure. Part of her knew she should be feeling sorry for the woman, but she was too shaken by James’s anger to feel much beyond relief. Her hands were shaking—her nerves were letting her know that the experience was taking its toll.

  His hands in fists, James glared at all of them. “You are going to regret choosing a man like him over me.” He turned to her again. “One day soon, when you are injured and hurt and lying on the ground forgotten, you will only have yourself to blame.”

  She was finding it difficult to breathe.

  Moving closer to her side, Mark looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you threatening Waneta?”

  “I don’t need to threaten anyone,” James countered, his expression triumphant. “I’m only predicting what will happen to any woman who trusts you. To any person who trusts you. You taint them. Hurt them. Always, sooner than later.” With those parting words, he turned and walked out the door.

  Waneta noticed that James’s chin was up and his shoulders were pulled back. Just as if he’d made his point and he was proud about it.

  The moment the door shut behind him, Waneta felt dizzy. “I need a minute,” she mumbled as she hurried off to the storage room. She needed the dim, cool space in order to relax and regroup.

  Once she was completely alone, she sank into one of the chairs. The tears that she had been holding at bay pricked her eyes as she wrapped her arms about herself. She had been really scared of one man in that room.

  And it hadn’t been Mark.

  CHAPTER 23

  Tuesday, August 16

  As he sat in Lora Weaver’s kitchen, with its pale turquoise walls, sparkling white counters, and worn-out table and chairs, Calvin Fisher was reflecting on things.

  It was kind of a new thing but unavoidable.

  Every time he had an extra minute or two, his mind would drift back to his most recent conversation with Mark. Over and over, he continually revisited the words they’d exchanged. It hadn’t been pleasant.

  Actually, it had been a painful undertaking. Few of the things that they’d discussed had made him feel good. Most of it had left him feeling empty and filled with pain.

  From the time he left home at the age of fourteen, he’d taken care of himself. It hadn’t been easy. He’d quickly learned that there were a whole lot of people in the world who enjoyed taking advantage of young Amish boys.

  But he had prevailed. He’d worked odd jobs, learned how to manipulate people, learned to control situations in order to get what he needed.

  He’d also gotten real good at imbibing a variety of substances so he wouldn’t hurt too much. So he wouldn’t feel too much. Numbness, whether it was derived from a six-pack of beer or a handful of pills, had its advantages.

  Until he’d returned to Horse Cave, he hadn’t thought much about the type of man he’d become or the significance of his actions. All he’d cared about was that he was surviving while so many others were not. But now, after talking to Mark and hearing his goals for the future, after witnessing the way he was slowly earning respect in a place where no one had ever respected their family, Calvin was beginning to wonder if he’d gotten it all wrong.

  Maybe he should have cared more about consequences.

  Maybe he should have tried harder to stay sober and forced himself to confront all of the demons in his past. If he had, he could be more like his brother right now.

  Was it too late? He didn’t know. He wondered if even God knew.

  “Calvin!” Lora said around a yelp as she walked into her kitchen. “Oh my word. You scared me, sitting in here in the dark.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind. I had nowhere else to go.”

  “Actually, I do mind. I don’t want you coming inside without me being here. It ain’t right.”

  She was wearing a simple sundress today. It was some kind of complicated floral pattern, all done in faded shades of yellow and orange. It hung loosely on her, ending mid-calf.

  He realized it was probably the most modest outfit he’d seen her wear. Her hair was brushed and it was confined in a ponytail at the back of her neck. Her skin looked fresh and clean. Maybe she had on some mascara, but nothing else.

  She also was acting pretty mad. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  “You still upset about me accidentally hitting you?”

  “Of course I am.”

  Remembering how out of control he’d been . . . and how guilty he’d felt, Calvin could hardly look her in the eye. “I already apologized for that.”

  “Not really. Not enough.”

  “Give me a break, Lora, wouldja? I won’t be here long. I just needed someplace private to hang out for a couple of minutes.”

  Her gaze sharpened but she said nothing, only pulled out a glass and a pitcher of water from the refrigerator. “Want some?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  She poured two glasses of water and handed him one as she sat down in the other chair at her small table. “Why are you really here?” she said after draining half the glass. “And don’t tell me it’s to rest and relax.”

  Calvin noticed that her eyes were averted. Her voice was thick, and she was acting far differently than she had the first time he’d shown up unannounced. Like night and day.

  “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “You’re acting as if you don’t even know me. Like we’ve never been friends. Like you and I weren’t hanging out together just last week.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Calvin, don’t act like the trouble is with me. You hit me—then ran off.”

  “I’m here now.”

  “You sure are,” she said sarcastically. “After serving food for seven hours at Bill’s, I walk into my own house to find you sitting at this table. Looking like you don’t have a care in the world. Of course I’m going to be surprised and ticked off.”

  He figured she had a point. But if he conceded that, he’d feel obligated
to leave.

  And then where would he go?

  Therefore, he fastened on to the one thing she couldn’t dispute. “What do you mean, working at Bill’s?”

  “I work at Bill’s Diner. Did you not even know that?”

  He hadn’t. He hadn’t really thought about it. “You a waitress there?”

  She nodded. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’ve had this job fourteen months now.”

  She’d kept the same job for fourteen months. For over a year. It hit him then that she’d been obviously counting those months. She was proud of herself. “So that’s why you’re so dressed up.”

  She looked down at her sundress and shrugged. “Why are you here, Calvin? You never said.”

  Knowing that he had to come up with a topic before she threw him out, he said, “I talked to that sheriff. He said he and his deputy talked to you.”

  “Yeah. Sheriff Brewer and Deputy Beck came over to see me the morning after we sat here and got drunk together.” She frowned. “This place was a mess. At first, I thought he was going to arrest me because the living room smelled like pot.”

  “He didn’t?”

  “No. He did look around, though.”

  “Did he have a search warrant?”

  “I didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going to find anything.” Her expression tightened. “I was kind of out of it, Calvin. My face really hurt.”

  “What did you tell him about me?”

  “That I had the beer but you had the pot.”

  Panic was setting in. “Is that it?”

  Leaning up against one of those white counters, she sipped her water. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “I mean no.”

  “Which is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Lora, this is important. I’m afraid the sheriff wants to blame me for Amy Miller getting hurt.” Then there was the whole drug thing. And maybe even his ties to the gang he owed so much money to.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Calvin. If you’re asking if I told the sheriff or Deputy Beck that I thought you were trouble, I didn’t.” Looking at him coolly, she said, “But I didn’t defend you, either.”

 

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