His Guilt

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Yes. That was it.

  She exhaled. First of all, it was Thanksgiving weekend, the first weekend of the hunting season. At least, it was back in Ohio. Maybe a hunter wasn’t paying attention to where he was going? That had happened all the time back in Berlin. Boys and men would get so excited about tracking their turkeys and deer, they would forget where they were going.

  Though her heart was beating so fast, she forced herself to remain calm. No good would come of her getting in a tizzy. If she did that, she’d upset the horse, and then she’d really be in trouble.

  But when the crack of a rifle reverberated in the air again, this time far more closely, fear took over. Star whinnied and attempted to pick up speed.

  “Steady, Star,” she called out. “Easy, girl. It’ll be all right.”

  She hoped it would. At the moment, she wasn’t so sure about that. At the moment, everything about her decision to drop off her little sister, Traci, at a girlfriend’s house seemed like it had been a bad idea. Why couldn’t their parents have told her to stay home?

  The snow had picked up. It covered the empty highway in a thick blanket and made driving her buggy almost difficult. The metal wheels had already slipped and slid several times since she’d begun the journey.

  She just wished it hadn’t gotten so dark so fast. She really wished gunshots weren’t piercing the air.

  Feeling her pulse start to race, Susanna attempted to calm herself. Don’t make things worse by imagining things, she cautioned herself. Focus on what is happening now, not what could be.

  That was good advice, too. She didn’t need to borrow trouble or let her mind drift toward flights of fancy. She needed to remain calm and keep Star’s lines firm and steady.

  When Star whinnied again, jerking her head to the right, she tightened her grip on the leather straps. “Easy now, Star,” she called out, hoping and praying that the taught lines and her voice would calm the mare before she lost control.

  But it was too late. As if she could sense the danger, Star neighed in alarm. Jerked to the right. Then, as another crack reverberated through the air, the horse picked up speed.

  Heart racing, Susanna leaned forward, holding on to the bench seat with her left hand while trying to retain her grip with her right. “Whoa, Star!”

  Her cry did no good.

  The buggy wobbled, its metal wheels sliding precariously on the black asphalt covered in ice and snow.

  The muscles in her arms strained as she attempted to gain control. A slow burn raced up her forearms and biceps as she pulled the reins.

  Star scrambled, the horseshoes clattering on the ice and snow.

  Ping!

  Terrorized now, Star kicked her legs. The action forced one of the lines to the buggy to snap. Seconds felt like minutes as the buggy jerked and slid. Star pulled away.

  Susanna cried out. Screamed as the buggy slid and rocked precariously on its metal wheels. Grasping the seat as tightly as she could, she tried to pray. Tried to think.

  Suddenly free, the buggy skidded toward the center of the road. What to do? What to do?

  She grabbed the brake. Attempted to pull. But she might as well have been clutching air. The buggy spun, then slid toward the other side, racing toward the ditch.

  She was going to crash. Desperately, she tried to focus on where she was. But between the frost on the windshield and the sleet and ice falling in thick sheets around them, there was no way to tell. Everything was distorted and out of focus.

  Crying now, Susanna closed her eyes, held on to whatever she could, and prayed. Prayed as hard as she could. Prayed like she never had before.

  And as the conveyance tumbled into the ditch, crashing into a thicket of trees, the force of the impact threw her toward the door. She was thrown out, landing on her side, her arms barely bracing her. She’d gotten out. She’d survived.

  But as the snow and ice fell against her skin, stinging like sharp pellets, Susanna wondered if that was enough.

  “Jah. There you go,” a soft, masculine voice whispered by her side. “Come now, give it a try again. Open your eyes.”

  Wondering what was happening, Susanna willed herself to try to do as the soothing voice bid. But it was hard. Her head was pounding and each of her eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. Then, too, her skin felt cold. So cold. Freezing. Unable to help herself, she moaned.

  A warm hand glided across her cheek. It paused, then stroked her cheek again. It was soothing. Almost reassuring.

  “Ach. I know it’s hard, girl. But give it another go. Jah?”

  She tried again. It was dark, but there was a flickering light nearby, and the low beam of a flashlight on the ground. The beam reflected the white from the snow, making the area seem brighter . . . and vaguely foreign.

  Blinking to focus. Then stared into the light-blue eyes of her rescuer.

  “Green.” He smiled, revealing a slightly crooked incisor.

  Green? She blinked. Inhaled through the pain to attempt to get her voice.

  “Nee. Don’t talk. There’s no need for that,” he murmured, pulling back enough for her to see more of his features. His wide brow. The line of his jaw. The chunk of dark-brown hair mixing in with dark, thick eyebrows. “A car stopped just up ahead. Wonder of wonders, it was Lora, a friend of mine. She’s calling for an ambulance. You should stay still until they come.”

  His words made sense. Until she remembered what had just happened. Where was she? The buggy? Her horse? Had Star been hurt? Was she somewhere nearby, cut or injured?

  Panic engulfed her. “Star?”

  “Star?” He turned a puzzled eye to the heavens.

  Unable to do anything else, she, too, looked above.

  “Nee, I don’t see no stars out. ’Course, it’s a bad night out here. Ain’t so? Sleeting and spitting snow. Miserable weather for Thanksgiving.” Shifting in his crouch, he smoothed the blanket over her. “Good thing I had this, though. We need to keep you warm.”

  His words, though he had completely misunderstood her, reminded her of where she was. It was Friday night, the evening after Thanksgiving. She’d been driving back from dropping Traci off at a new friend’s house. She’d gotten a late start back because they’d invited her inside for a slice of pumpkin pie.

  While she’d been inside, the wind had changed direction. That change had turned the lightly falling snow into hard pellets of deadly ice. Right about that time, darkness had fallen, enveloping her and Star in a thick, soupy world. She’d had to slow Star’s pace so her hooves wouldn’t slip on the asphalt.

  Then those shots were fired.

  “Shots?” she blurted, though her voice sounded hoarse and distorted, even to her own ears.

  He frowned. “I reckon you will have to get some shots, but maybe not.” When she parted her lips, desperate to make him understand, he started talking again. “You’ll be all right in no time, though,” he said with a reassuring smile. Don’t doubt that. Good enough to start your Christmas baking . . . Ah, here’s Lora. Let me see what she says.”

  He stood up abruptly, shaking off one of his boots. “Did you call for an ambulance?”

  “I did better than that. I called my husband,” the English woman said, her voice drifting slowly toward Susanna. “And thank the good Lord I did, too. Eddie was so worried when he’d tried my cell phone a couple of minutes ago and I didn’t answer. Anyway, I told him about the accident. He dispatched an ambulance from the radio in his car. He should be here any second, too.” Lowering her voice, she whispered, “How’s she doing?”

  “Don’t know. She seems sluggish and she’s talking nonsense.”

  “She probably has a concussion.”

  “Jah. I thought that, too. That said, she’s talking and her eyes are open. So, that’s good, right?”

  “I think so. So, who is she? Do you know? Has she said anything? Do you know what happened?”

  “I ain’t been having much of a conversation, Lora. So far, all she’s been doing is asking abo
ut stars and shots. I haven’t even gotten to introductions yet.”

  The woman’s chuckle echoed through the air. “Honestly. The things you say.”

  “Hey, now . . .”

  “You know I’m only having a bit of fun with you.”

  “At my expense . . .”

  “Go on, now. You wait for Eddie. I’ll join her. Poor thing, lying alone on the pavement.” Smiling softly, she stepped closer, then knelt down on the pavement beside Susanna. “Hi, there. I’m Lora Beck,” she said softly.

  “Hi,” Susanna replied, taking in the attractive woman’s golden hair falling way past her shoulders, her brown eyes, green turtleneck, jeans, and puffy down coat.

  “I know you’re worried, but don’t be. My husband is a cop. Well, a sheriff. Well, a sheriff’s deputy,” she amended, her tone easy and light. She paused before gently wiping Susanna’s face with a soft cloth again. “Anyways, he’s on his way. So’s an ambulance. I know you’re cold and hurting, but hold on a little longer, okay?”

  It took effort, but Susanna answered. “ ’Kay.”

  “If you’re talking, that’s a good thing.” Leaning closer, Lora smiled. “That guy is so silly. He was acting like you don’t know what’s going on, but you’re gonna be all right, aren’t you? I bet you’re gonna be just fine.”

  Before Susanna could attempt to answer that, the sound of sirens filled the air. Help was on the way. Thank the good Lord for that!

  Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to relax. At the moment, it didn’t really matter where this man had come from, did it? Or why shots had been fired.

  Only that she’d survived.

  There would be time enough to figure out who everyone was and how they came to be near her when her head wasn’t pounding, her body didn’t feel beaten, and she wasn’t freezing cold, lying on the hard pavement.

  At least, she hoped and prayed that was so.

  Two weeks later

  “I’m so glad you are nice,” a sweet-looking blond woman said as they joined the buffet line after the three-hour-long church service. “I didn’t think you would be.”

  As the statement registered, Susanna felt her smile falter.

  She should have been used to comments like this by now. Unfortunately, they still hurt.

  While the teens in the area hadn’t seemed to have a bit of trouble accepting their thirteen-year-old sister, Traci, all the adults seemed to have a grudge against her family.

  Try as they might, none of them could figure out exactly why.

  Though her twenty-year-old sister, Amanda, was sending her a warning look, Susanna realized that she had gotten more than a little tired of being in the dark.

  But maybe it was time to get some answers? “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to offend you,” she replied in as conciliatory tone as she was able. “But if you could tell me what I’ve done, I’ll attempt to make things better.”

  The woman looked taken aback. “You haven’t done anything.”

  “No?”

  “Nee. I mean, not besides the obvious.”

  Nothing had been obvious to her. “I’m sorry, but I’m still not following you.”

  The blonde flushed. “You know . . . the way you treated the Vance family. Well, your parents.”

  Now she was even more confused. “We didn’t ‘treat’ them any way at all. I’ve never even met the Vance family. All my parents did was put an offer on the farm when they put it up for sale.”

  “Indeed, y’all did. And for a good price, too.”

  There seemed to be a hidden jab underneath that comment. However, it was just as evasive and confusing.

  Since she couldn’t think of a way to get better information without sounding like she was picking a fight, Susanna decided a slight change of subject might be in order. “It’s been hard to put my best foot forward, what with my accident and all.”

  “Ah. Yes. We did hear about that. It must have been so scary.”

  “It was. It was one of the scariest things I’ve ever been through.” Right up there with sitting in a hospital waiting room while her mother had emergency surgery.

  “It’s a blessing you weren’t badly hurt.”

  “I agree.” Physically, she was better. Mentally? Well, that was another story. Almost nightly, she woke up in a cold sweat, reliving the sound of gunshots reverberating through the snow. Of Star panicking and getting hurt.

  When she’d woken up in the hospital, her mother had been sitting by her side. Her face had been stark white, the only color being the ring around her eyes. She’d been crying for hours.

  Susanna had sustained a concussion, a colorful array of bumps and bruises, and some really awful scrapes on her arms and hands. But miraculously, nothing had been broken.

  It truly had been a blessing in the midst of so much pain.

  The doctors had kept her another day, then they’d sent her home with firm warnings about taking things easy.

  That hadn’t been hard to agree to. She’d felt as if . . . well, as if she’d been thrown from a moving buggy. Every part of her body ached.

  Then, too, there was the grief she felt for Star. Star’s leg had been injured in her frantic bolt. The sheriff who’d come out to the accident had to put her down right on the side of the road.

  Though Susanna knew she couldn’t have done anything differently, Star’s loss hit her hard. They’d had her for years, and she was such a steady, sweet-natured horse. Susanna felt like she’d let Star down. Almost as difficult to bear was the knowledge that her father was now going to have to buy another horse and buggy. It was a costly expense that she knew they couldn’t really afford. Not after they’d used the majority of their savings to purchase the farm.

  Days after Susanna had returned home, she’d caught a terrible cold. She’d been so feverish and sick, her family hadn’t even gone to church.

  Now, here it was, almost a week later. They’d come to church, but though some people were cordial, others—like this woman in line—were far more standoffish.

  She’d been so excited to finally make friends. Unfortunately, it was starting to be fairly evident that even the upcoming Christmas holiday wasn’t inspiring many people to become more cordial.

  After scooping a small amount of pasta salad onto her plate, Susanna tried to think of something to say that could smooth things over. So far, nothing was coming to mind.

  “I heard that you thought someone shot at you,” a dark-haired woman on the other side of the blonde said.

  Though it would be better to hold her tongue, that had never been Susanna’s strongpoint. “I didn’t imagine I heard gunshots. I know I did. Someone was firing a rifle in the dark.”

  “How can you be sure?” she asked. “Did they find any casings?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Your buggy wasn’t actually hit, was it?”

  “Nee. But the gunfire scared my horse.”

  “Shame, that.”

  “Jah.” It had been a shame. Actually, so much about their move to Kentucky had been a disappointment.

  “Though our first weeks here have been eventful, I’m looking forward to celebrating Christmas here in Kentucky,” Amanda chimed in, in that friendly way of hers, which she’d mastered around the age of four. “Hart County is so different, but I’m sure we’ll enjoy the holidays very much.”

  The woman’s posture eased. “I’m glad you are settling in. Now that you all are getting out and about, I suppose we’ll get to know each better.”

  “I imagine we will,” Amanda said with an angelic smile. It was another move she’d mastered. She’d been born with golden blond hair and bright-blue eyes. She was striking. Very pretty.

  She’d always been everything that Susanna never had been. She was bright, while Susanna’s appearance was more burnished, with her brown hair and green eyes. Vivacious and eager, while Susanna had an unfortunate habit of blurting whatever was on her mind.

  Well, at least Amanda was succeeding where Susa
nna seemed to be floundering.

  “Would you girls like to sit with us?” the blond woman asked. “My name’s Rachel, by the way.”

  “We would. Danke, Rachel,” Amanda said before Susanna could say a word.

  “But of course. We want to do everything we can to help ease your transition here.” Smiling far more warmly at Amanda, Rachel gestured to one of the long tables near the end of the driveway. “I’ll save you both a seat. You are okay eating outside, aren’t you? It’s a little chilly, but since the sun is out today, it’s better than being back in the barn. It can get stuffy in there.”

  “Oh, I agree,” Amanda said with an even brighter smile. “Eating outside in the fresh air is wunderbaar. Come January, we’ll all be stuck inside for weeks.”

  “Jah,” Susanna agreed. When Rachel and Amanda both turned to her, obviously hoping to hear something interesting or cute, she only smiled awkwardly. “It’s good to appreciate good days, the weather is so unpredictable.” Of course, she realized that she was talking about so much more than the weather.

  As they followed the other women out of the barn and over to a long table situated in the sun, Susanna scanned the crowd, especially the group of young men sitting near where all the food was set up. “Hey, Amanda? Do you see any man that looks like my description of my savior?” The paramedics had told her that the man who rescued her asked not to be identified.

  She’d thought that odd. Her father had, too. But her mother pointed out that the man might be afraid that they would do something to embarrass him or something. Some people didn’t like to be thanked.

  Susanna had been really hoping to catch sight of her rescuer today. Before church, when all the young people were milling around, she’d carefully looked at each man’s face. But so far, no one looked like that burly man with the pale-blue eyes and ruddy complexion.

  Amanda shook her head. “It’s too bad you don’t remember more about what your mystery man looks like.”

  “I had a concussion and it was pitch-black outside. I was kind of otherwise occupied,” she said with a grin. “I did remember his light-colored eyes, though. I know I would remember them. They were so light, one might even think they were gray.”