His Risk

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His Risk Page 1

by Shelley Shepard Gray




  Dedication

  To my friend Kim Frazier, who knows a

  thing or two about taking risks

  Epigraph

  You are my hiding place; you protect me from

  trouble. You surround me with songs of victory.

  PSALM 32:7

  You can’t change what is going on around you

  until you change what is going on within you.

  AMISH PROVERB

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Read on

  Also by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  Saturday, January 27

  Sometimes, the sound of a phone ringing still caught Calvin Fisher off guard. When his cell buzzed for the second time, he pulled it out of his back pocket. Thumb hovering over the screen, he intended to press Ignore, but then he noticed the area code.

  Eight months ago, he promised he’d never ignore a call from Hart County again. As the phone buzzed a third time, the sound echoing through the alleyway, Calvin pressed the button to answer.

  “Mark, is that you?” he asked.

  “Ack! Nee, Calvin. It’s Waneta,” his sister-in-law said in a rush. “Oh, Calvin. I’m so glad you answered.”

  “Neeta, hold on one sec, ’kay?” With the phone still held to his ear, Calvin motioned to the men nearby that he’d be right back and started walking. “You okay?” he asked, already feeling awkward. Of course Waneta wasn’t okay if she was calling him. She was Amish and didn’t get on the phone unless she had a good reason.

  “I’m not all right at all. Oh, Calvin, Mark and me just got back from the doktah.”

  He gripped the cell phone tighter. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  “Nee, it’s Mark, Calvin.” She paused. When she continued, her voice sounded strained. “He’s been feeling poorly for a while, you see, but he didn’t want to let you know. Finally, he went to the doktah two days ago.”

  Waneta continued talking, hardly taking a breath as each word bled into the next so fast that he had to stop walking in order to understand her better.

  “Dr. Hanna sent him to the hospital for tests, then he called us into his office this morning.”

  “What did the doctor say?” he asked as he resumed walking. Then, unlocking the front door of the apartment complex where he lived, Calvin trotted up three flights of stairs.

  “Th-that Mark has cancer.”

  A wave of dizziness hit him hard. He stopped, gripping the worn metal banister so tightly that the edge of it cut into his palm.

  “Calvin?” she asked hesitantly. “Calvin, are you still there?”

  He closed his eyes. Waneta needed him. “I’m sorry, sis,” he said, intentionally using his pet name for her in an effort to ease her worries. “I’m here. Um, what kind of cancer is it? Do you know?”

  “It’s renal cell–something.”

  “Say again?”

  “Oh, I can hardly pronounce it. I’m sorry. Calvin, it’s something to do with his kidneys.” Sounding more perturbed, she continued. “Dr. Hanna gave us some literature and a phone number of a nurse who can explain things gut, too. But I don’t know. All I remember him saying is that Mark has cancer and is going to need to have one of his kidneys removed.”

  He’d finally made it to his apartment. Unlocking the deadbolt, he strode inside and closed the door firmly behind. Then, as Waneta continued to talk about how worried she was, he did a quick walk-through just to make sure no one had been in his place since he’d left six hours ago.

  When he was assured that everything was undisturbed, he sat down on the chair in the corner of his bedroom. Forced himself to remain calm and keep his voice steady. “Sis, where’s Mark? Can I talk to him?”

  “Nee. He’s sleeping. Plus, I didn’t tell him I was going to call you. This is Lora’s phone.”

  “Okay. Is Lora there?” Lora was an old friend; they’d all grown up together. She, like him, had left the Amish faith, eventually marrying a deputy in the local sheriff’s department. But also like him, she hadn’t wanted to remove her Amish ties and live completely among the English.

  Lora was a close friend to all of them.

  “Um, jah.”

  “Put her on the phone, Neeta,” he said gently. As he heard the phone switch hands, he attempted to pull himself together. But really, all he felt was numb.

  “Calvin?” Lora said at last. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Waneta told me about Mark’s diagnosis. Have you seen the paperwork? Did you talk to this Dr. Hanna?” he bit out in a rush, hardly able to think clearly. Taking another deep breath, he continued. “Have you talked to Mark?”

  “I talked to both the doctor and Mark. The doctor is very sure, Calvin. Mark has renal cell carcinoma in his right kidney,” she said slowly, the strain in her voice coming across like a taut wire. “They want to schedule an operation as soon as possible. Like next week. Can you be there?”

  “Of course.” Making the decision, he got to his feet. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks.” Lowering her voice, she said, “Mark and Neeta are going to need your help.”

  “That’s good because I want to help. Tell Waneta that I’ll see her in the early afternoon.”

  “I’ll do that.” He heard Lora murmur something to Waneta and seem to move into another room. “Calvin, I need to ask . . . are you going to bring trouble here?”

  He knew what she was asking. As far as she, Mark, Waneta, and the rest of the world knew, he was still involved in a gang, and still did a lot of things that were illegal or brought on trouble of one kind or another.

  “Hope not,” he said, purposely keeping his tone light as he strode into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

  “You hope not?” Her voice rose. “Calvin, if your being here is going to bring your gun-toting, drug-running friends, too, then you need to stay away,” she hissed. “Actually, you should tell—”

  He cut her off. “Gun-toting, drug-running friends?” he said with a forced laugh. “You make me sound like some kind of old-time gangster. Have you been watching black-and-white movies on TV again?”

  “Don’t joke about this,” she replied in a steely voice. “You might be pretending that I’m as naïve as half the population of Horse Cave, Kentucky, but we both know that ain’t me. I’m serious. You can’t bring your problems and bad habits to your brother’s doorstep.”

  As he filled his glass with water from the tap, he found himself wishing again that he could tell someone, anyone, what he was really up to. But because that wasn’t possible, he kept his reply light. “Nothing’s going to happen. Settle down before you get Waneta wound up. Ev
erything’s going to be fine.” Before she could go off on him again, he decided it was time to end the call. “Don’t forget to remind Neeta that I’ll be there tomorrow. Bye.”

  Calvin hung up before Lora could reply or give him another warning. After tossing his phone on the counter, he drained his glass, then filled it up again.

  As he slowly set the glass on the counter, he was smiling to himself. Yeah, that’s what he was drinking now when he got stressed out. Tap water. He wasn’t sure if Lora would have been more shocked than relieved to see that he was no longer enjoying shots of tequila or a six-pack of beer when things got stressful. It hadn’t been easy, but he had cleaned himself up.

  Well, at least in private.

  Out in public, though? That was a different story. His reputation depended on him being filled with vices and excuses.

  “Cal?” a voice called from the outside hallway, followed by two heavy raps on his door.

  Calvin grabbed his phone and crossed the room, taking his time to get his head back where it needed to be. He couldn’t show weakness; he couldn’t allow anyone to see an inkling of fear or worry, any strain in his eyes. He stopped, stood up straighter, exhaled, then pulled open the door. “What?”

  “Boss wants you, Cal.” Jenk, one of the men he’d been standing in the alley with, said. Stepping closer, he peered into his apartment. “What’s going on? You sure took off quick when you got that phone call.” Grinning, he said, “You got someone in here or something? One of your old Amish buddies?”

  “If I did, it ain’t none of your business, right?” The gang knew he’d been born Amish but believed he’d been shunned by his family and had cut all ties with everyone else in the community. Still, more than one member of the Kings enjoyed jabbing him with his unusual past.

  Jenk shrank back, stung. “No. ’Course not.” Now looking at Cal warily, he shifted his feet. “So, you coming or what?”

  By way of answering, Calvin pulled out his keys and locked his door. He kept his chin up and his expression blank as he walked with Jenk down the hallway. By the time he headed down the stairs, he was no longer thinking about his brother or Hart County or cancer. Instead, all he cared about was the reassuring weight of the pistol nestled against the small of his back, and the fact that no one else was loitering in the area wanting to talk to him.

  When they finally stepped outside, his transformation was complete. To everyone in the back streets of downtown Louisville, he wasn’t Calvin, the former Amish younger brother of Mark Fisher. Instead, he was Cal, the former homeless loser who had found a place inside one of the strongest gun-running gangs in the state of Kentucky.

  He also was an undercover informant for the DEA.

  And he now had less than twenty-four hours to make up a reason to leave that was believable enough to keep everything he did in this place, and far away from Horse Cave.

  Otherwise, he wouldn’t only be bringing his problems to his brother’s house. He’d be bringing danger to everyone there, too.

  Chapter 2

  Thursday, February 1

  Alice Yoder lived for little Jimmy Borntrager’s hugs. At the end of each day of preschool, he would scamper to the door with his friends, abruptly stop, turn around, and then practically fling himself at her knees. Finally, after yelling “Ich leevi dich, Teacher!” in his husky, deep little voice, he would run outside to where his mother was patiently waiting.

  Today was no exception.

  Walking to the door, she smiled and waved good-bye to all her tiny scholars standing next to their mothers and grandmothers. Only when they departed in their buggies or on foot would she reply, “I love you, too, Jimmy.”

  Now, as she leaned against the doorframe and watched the last of her ten preschoolers disappear, she whispered it again. “I love each one of you kinner.”

  However, for the first time, instead of her heart feeling near bursting with love and gratitude, she felt a little melancholy. It was all well and good to love a classroom of four-year-olds. But one day soon, she would sure like to be uttering such a phrase to her own little boy or girl.

  If she was honest, she was actually wishing to be saying those words to her own sweetheart, too. Walking back into her classroom, Alice wondered if that would ever happen. Here she was, twenty-two years old and had never had a sweetheart of her own. Not even anything close.

  As she picked up stray picture books, crayons, sheets of paper, and plastic letters from the floor and atop various counters, Alice knew she was being ridiculous. She was only letting her looming birthday and a longtime friend’s recent engagement get the best of her. The Lord would provide in His own time. And she was young, too. There was nothing wrong with being twenty-two and having never been kissed.

  It only just felt that way. And, in her darkest moments, she would find herself doubting everything about herself—her looks, her personality, her past choices. Was the Lord angry at her because she’d done so many stupid things when she was a teenager, especially during her seventeenth year? She and her best friend, Irene, had been determined to stretch every boundary of their lives. They’d worn scandalous clothes. Flirted with Englishers. Made rash decisions. Caused a car crash.

  Oh, that car crash.

  Cold air, shattered glass, Irene’s terrified expression. All that blood. The memories flashed back like an unwelcome guest depositing itself in her brain. Bringing with it so much guilt and pain.

  It was nothing less than she deserved, of course. But since then, she’d worked hard to make up for all those mistakes.

  But maybe the Lord had other ideas? Maybe He was attempting to remind her that she was never going to be able to make up for the things she’d done.

  The possibility of that made her shiver. Not because she didn’t doubt that she should be punished, but because there wasn’t anything she could do about her past. There were many things one could do with one’s life. However, erasing the past wasn’t an option.

  Shaking off the sudden case of doldrums, Alice finished cleaning up around the room, swept the floor, and took out the trash. Then, after getting a little snack, she sat down at her desk and prepared everything she would need for tomorrow’s class.

  It was one of her favorite days to celebrate, for it was Groundhog Day. Pulling out the little groundhog puppet she’d made last year, she gave in to whimsy and slipped it over her hand, then moved her knuckles so its little ears twitched. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It really was a cute little thing.

  “Playing with puppets again, Alice?” Ed called out from the doorway.

  Embarrassed, she pulled the toy off her hand. “Nee. Just preparing for Friday’s lessons.”

  Her eldest brother sauntered in, all confident and good humor. “Is Groundhog Day here already?”

  After getting to her feet, she looked him in the eye and tried to appear scholarly. “Of course it is. Tomorrow is February second.”

  “Huh. I could have sworn we just celebrated it.” He rubbed his faint beard like he was confused. But his eyes were twinkling.

  “You’re just jealous that you’ve got to work at the blacksmith’s store all day instead of talking about the letter g, spring, and groundhogs,” she said as she walked to the closet in the back of the room to retrieve her bonnet, cloak, mittens, and purse.

  “That’s true. I would be jealous, but Bethy and I are going to be in Pinecraft enjoying the Florida sunshine.”

  Well, she could tease him right back. “You’re going to Florida? Goodness! I almost forgot.” They both knew she couldn’t have forgotten his trip even if she had tried. It was all he and Bethy had talked about for the last four months.

  “I’m going to pretend I find that funny. Listen, I stopped by to let you know that John and Rachel offered to house-sit for the second half of our trip if you decide that you don’t want to stay for a whole month.”

  He looked so earnest, Alice did her best to match his expression. “Danke, but I don’t mind watching Valentine for the entire t
ime. I’ve been looking forward to it . . .”

  Feeling relieved, he pulled out an envelope. “Sorry. I don’t know why I even asked. You always do what you say you’re going to, so . . .” He smiled, though his expression faltered.

  Obviously, he was remembering that wasn’t quite the truth.

  And Alice was as well. Remembering all too clearly the way she’d acted five years ago. She cleared her throat. “Don’t worry, bruder. Everything is going to be just fine when you’re gone. Why, I’ll spoil Valentine so much, I bet she’ll hardly realize you are gone.”

  “Don’t tell that to Bethy. You know how she dotes on that cat.” Pressing the envelope into her hand, he said, “Now, before you go refusing this, inside is the key and some money for food and things.”

  “Ed—”

  “Nee. Don’t argue. Take it. It ain’t that much to compensate you for living in our haus for a whole month.”

  “I don’t need to be paid to help you.”

  “Come on, little sister. You and I both know what will happen if you refuse.”

  “Mamm will try to get me to eat at home every night for supper,” she said with a small grimace. Though her life might not be everything she dreamed it would be, she did love her parents. But their efforts to shield her from further pain created a new pain in and of itself. Alice yearned for some independence. It was a difficult thing to achieve, however, without hurting her parents. Because of that, she balanced precariously on the edge of keeping them happy and keeping herself happy.

  Both of her brothers knew this and often had her stay at their houses when they weren’t around.

  After gazing at her for a long moment, as if he was mentally making sure his little sister was happy and healthy, he slapped his palm lightly on the corner of her school desk. “All right. Alice, I hate to say it, but I canna walk you home today. I promised my Bethy that I’d run to the post office for her, then we have a driver coming to pick us up. We have to take the bus from Louisville tomorrow morning, so we’re going to spend the night in an inn over there.”

  Looking more than a little gleeful, he added, “I think the bathing suit she ordered arrived.”

 

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