“She’s going to wear a bathing suit at Siesta Key?” Bethy was everything proper. Never would Alice have imagined that Ed’s wife would do something like that.
Her brother’s eyes lit up. “Maybe. But don’t tell Mamm. If she finds out, she’s going to have plenty to say, even if it ain’t her business.”
Making a little locking motion over her lips, she giggled. “My lips are sealed.” Walking around her desk, she hugged him tight. “Good-bye, Edward. Have a nice vacation. Don’t worry about your haus or your cat. I’ll take good care of both.”
“Danke. Bye, now,” he said as he turned and walked quickly out the door.
After spending another few minutes making sure everything was ready for the next day, Alice strode out the door. She needed to walk home, finish packing her bags, and head over to Edward and Beth’s pretty two-story bungalow.
She might not have a vacation or even an exciting evening with a beau, but she did have a month of independence to look forward to. She needed to remember to count her blessings.
As she knew, things could be much worse.
THREE HOURS LATER, Alice was sitting on the front porch of her brother’s home. As she’d expected, her parents had fretted and worried about her being on her own, but at last had hitched up the buggy and helped her move over to Edward’s house. After numerous rounds of hugs, they left—but only after leaving a giant bag of food and paper products on the kitchen table.
Alice couldn’t wait to tell her brothers about her care package. Their mother had an inordinate fondness for paper towels, tissues, and toilet paper. She stockpiled it like a tragedy was going to happen if someone sneezed and there wasn’t a box of Kleenex nearby. Obviously, Mamm had been worried that Bethy and Edward didn’t keep their cupboards as well stocked.
After her parents were gone, Alice made herself a mug of hot tea and came out to the porch with a new book. One of Edward’s neighbors across the street had had a new baby. Sometimes they would take her out for a walk. Alice was hoping for a peek.
But it was the loud snap of a truck’s door across the way that caught her attention. It was an old truck, light brown in color with a dented bumper. It was also parked right in front of Mark Fisher’s house. He’d recently married Waneta Cain, and they were well known throughout the area.
Of course, everyone in the county had heard about what had happened to Waneta several months ago. She’d been attacked by an awful man. Mark Fisher and his brother had saved her. That in itself had been noteworthy. But because rumors abounded about Mark being suspected of hurting women years before, his heroism had caused even more talk.
Waneta’s attack was all in the past now, thank the Lord. Since then, she and Mark had married and they were living a quiet life, just like the rest of the Amish in the area. Edward said that Mark and Neeta, as everyone called her, were friendly and kept to themselves. Gut neighbors.
She was about to open her book when she got a better look at the man who’d exited the vehicle. He was now standing almost directly across from her. Clad in jeans, boots, and a snug-fitting black T-shirt, he looked out of place. And . . . was he smoking?
She couldn’t help but gape. He was striking. He was tall and looked muscular, had dark hair and a brooding expression. As if he sensed her staring at him, he turned and met her gaze.
She caught the color of his eyes. They were blue. So very blue.
Realizing she’d been staring, she resolutely opened her book. Pretended to read. But no words on the page registered. Instead, she seemed to be under his sway—the way he turned his head to watch a car drive by; the way he tapped his ashes into the top of a Coke can.
The way he glanced at Alice again.
For a moment, she was tempted to run inside and lock the front door. But that would be silly. Neither of them was doing anything wrong.
And, for Pete’s sake, she was a schoolteacher now! She had nothing to hide. And was used to talking to all kinds of people.
With that in mind, she set her book down and picked up her mug of tea. After taking a deep breath, she leaned back against the chair and sipped her tea. She felt pretty good about her actions, too.
Right until he put the last of his cigarette into the can and started walking over.
Chapter 3
Thursday, February 1
Calvin could tell himself that he wanted to talk to the woman because he was concerned about his family’s safety. No one should be at the house. Mark and Waneta had just told him that Edward and his wife were leaving that afternoon for a month-long vacation in Pinecraft.
He walked across the street to get a better look at the person, a pretty Amish woman wearing a pale-gray dress with a pink wool cardigan. And as he approached, he knew there was only one reason he did so.
There was something about her that seemed different. Maybe even special.
Okay, that was stupid. Presumptuous, too. He didn’t know a single thing about her.
All he did know, he realized, was that he wanted to meet her. She had lifted her chin when she caught him staring, right before she stared right back. He was so used to women shying away from him, her boldness caught him off guard. And, if he was honest, it amused him, too.
When he reached her front yard, he raised a hand, attempting to look friendly and nonthreatening. That was probably a hopeless endeavor. He wasn’t a small man. He stood right at six foot two, just as Mark did.
He was also a strange Englisher. Most Amish women had a natural reticence around unfamiliar men.
“Hey,” he said.
She got to her feet. “Hello. May I help you?”
She had caramel-colored hair and blue eyes. She also had just about the best voice he’d ever heard. Crystal clear, softly melodic and sweet. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized that it was possible for a woman to have such a distinctly perfect voice.
Now he was even more intrigued by her. He also didn’t want to scare her away by coming off too harsh or too forward. He needed to remember that he was back in Horse Cave, not in the back streets of Louisville or Cincinnati. She wasn’t one of the women hanging around the Kings, hoping for a little fun for a couple of hours.
No. She was respectable. Not wanting to crowd her, he stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the porch. “My name is Calvin Fisher,” he said. “I’m staying across the way with my brother and his wife. I was given to believe that this house was going to be empty for a while.”
But instead of shirking back or being bashful, she looked at him with interest. “You’re kin to Mark?”
“I am. His younger brother. Now, who are you?”
“I’m Alice.” Her blue eyes shone as she looked at him directly. “And this is my brother’s house.”
“You come over when he ain’t home?”
“Nee. I come over when he asks me to house-sit.”
“Ah. How long are you going to be here?”
Wariness snuck back into her gaze. “I’m curious as to why you are so curious about me. Why does what I do matter?”
It took every bit of self-control he possessed not to grin. This little gal was a firecracker. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who challenged him right to his face.
Especially not a young woman.
“No reason in particular. I guess I don’t recall seeing you before.”
“That makes two of us,” replied Alice. “I have been here a number of times, but I can’t say that I’ve seen you before, either.”
He motioned to the wicker chair next to where she had been sitting. “Can I join you?” When she hesitated, he said, “If not, that’s okay. I just think we could probably talk easier if I wasn’t standing so far away.”
She looked at him up and down again, almost as if she would discover all his faults. It made him feel strangely vulnerable.
“I suppose so,” she said at last.
“Thanks.”
She stayed on her feet as he climbed the steps. Then held her ground as she b
oldly lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “You sure are very, very tall.”
He laughed. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but that’s a first.” Gesturing to the chair that was closest to where she’d been sitting, he said, “Okay if I sit in this chair?”
“It’s fine.”
After she sat down, she studied him again. “I’m going to be here for a month. Are you visiting your brother long?”
And just like that, all of his amusement fled. It was replaced by grief and worry and a complete sense of helplessness that rivaled all the feelings he used to have back when he was a child and at the mercy of his father’s abuse and his mother’s neglect. Briefly, he entertained the idea of either ignoring the question or giving Alice a vague answer.
But something told him that evading the truth now would give him consequences in the future. He needed to get used to saying what was wrong. To realize what was happening, and that there wasn’t anything he could do about it, either.
“My brother was recently diagnosed with cancer. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”
Pure compassion lit her eyes. “I am sorry to hear that.”
He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling up the ends. “Yeah. I . . . well, I was sorry to hear about the diagnosis, too.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Where do you live when you ain’t here?”
“Louisville. For the most part.”
“For the most part?” she repeated. “Do you not live there all the time?”
“Nee.” There was no way he was going to start telling her all about his life with the Kings. She might be pretty, but he wasn’t a fool.
“Ah. So you left the Amish and became English and moved to the big city.”
“Pretty much.”
Still studying him like he was fascinating, she tilted her head. “Do you like it?”
“Louisville?” he asked, answering his own question. “It’s all right.” Actually, the city was fine, as far as big cities went. But he wasn’t living anywhere fine. He was in a run-down apartment a couple of blocks from the river.
She gave him a puzzled expression. “Nee. I mean being English. Do you like being an Englisher now?”
He was so used to people around here asking why he left the faith. They’d ask nosy questions, seemingly trying to understand what he wanted to have that he hadn’t. Personal questions, about his feelings—did he feel it was so hard to be Amish?
They didn’t want real answers. They didn’t want to hear about living in the shadows of generations of tradition, faith, and rules. They’d wanted information, the sort that had been popular on so-called reality television shows.
He’d learned to give pat, meaningless answers. He’d been good with it, because he’d soon realized that no one had actually wanted to hear about how difficult his home life had been, or how much he’d needed to find a place for himself that felt safe.
All that was why he was caught off guard by Alice’s question. She wasn’t asking why he’d left. No, she was asking if he liked the change. It was a subtle difference.
“Yeah, I do. I do like being English,” he replied after some thought. “I love my brother and respect his decision to remain Amish, but I think that being English is the right choice for me.” He eyed her warily, half waiting for her to find fault with that.
Instead, Alice nodded her head, like he had made all the sense in the world. “That’s gut.”
That was her answer. No invasive questions. No sly recriminations. No guilt. Just acceptance.
Once again, a strange sense of peace drifted over him. He’d thought it was her pretty voice that had affected him, but maybe it was something more than that.
Maybe it was the easy way Alice accepted him. It was refreshing and soothing, too. It also felt dangerous. Because he was fairly sure that if Alice really knew him, she would change her tune. Maybe she would be scared of him. Maybe simply be judgmental. She would have every right to be that way, too. She was a good woman. A lovely woman who no doubt had lots of admirers. And though he knew he could never pursue her in a romantic way, he also realized he was in no hurry to step away from her.
Which was one of the reasons, of course, that he needed to keep his distance. He was tainted by life and his hands were dirty from the things he’d done. They were never going to be clean enough to touch her.
Yet he was feeling a pull toward her. Like, if he was in her presence long enough, he would feel validated and renewed. It scared him. What would he do if he started wanting something more from her than he might ever receive?
Getting to his feet, he said, “I better go. Like I said, I just wanted to see who you were and introduce myself.”
Her smile was almost angelic. Almost. “And that you did.”
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“You will, though I won’t be here all that often.” She raised her chin a bit. “I have a job, you see.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
“I’m a preschool teacher.”
Of course she was. Could anything be better suited for a girl with such a sweet voice? “I bet those kids love you.”
She laughed. “Some do, that is true. Gut naught, Calvin Fisher.”
“Yeah. Good night.” Just as he started walking across the street, his cell phone rang. After glancing back at Alice again, he clicked it on and brought it to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Calvin?” Andrew Mason, his DEA liaison asked, “is that you?”
Worry filled him as he wondered why he was being contacted. “Who else would it be?”
“Settle down. It didn’t sound like you, that’s all.”
“How did I sound?”
“Like a nicer version of yourself.”
He walked down the street, taking care to pass his brother’s house and keep walking. “I must have had something in my throat. Why are you calling?”
After a pause, Andrew replied, sounding almost apologetic. “Look, I know you’re seeing family on some kind of urgent matter.”
“I told you. My brother has cancer.”
“Of course you know we feel for you . . .”
“But?”
Andrew sighed. “How much do you need to be there?”
How much did he need to be with his brother while he underwent surgery to have an organ removed because it was cancerous? If he wasn’t so indebted to the man, he would have hung up. “Why are you asking?”
“There’s been some action with the organization. We’ve heard that two or three guys are vying for power and are interested in taking down everyone who gets in their way.”
“Even if that was true, there isn’t anything I could do, even if I was there.”
“I think there might be. Our surveillance has heard your name come up more than once.”
“I’m embedded, Andrew. Of course I’m gonna be mentioned.”
“It’s not in passing. We’re hearing your name being spoken quite a bit.”
There was a new underlying tension in his voice. “What’s going on? Am I in danger?” More importantly, was his family in danger?
“Not at all. Actually, you should be real pleased with yourself. We heard West say he’s thinking about making you a lieutenant sometime over the next couple of weeks.”
“Really?” Though it was all an undercover mission for him, Calvin couldn’t help but feel a little pleased. This was a big deal in the Kings. West Powers, the president of the organization, didn’t promote members into his circle lightly. That meant that he trusted Calvin and was pleased with the work he’d been doing. It meant a lot of things. Respect. Security. And, yeah, even some freedom. As a lieutenant, he could do almost anything he wanted without anyone but West questioning him.
Of course, it also meant that it was going to be even harder to extricate himself from the gang when the time came. If it could ever actually happen.
“We need you back there. If they intend to promote you, we need that to happen. You can’t do anything to mess
that up.”
When he’d agreed to the deal, when he’d agreed to become an informant in exchange for the DEA paying off his debts, Calvin knew it all would come at a steep price. He didn’t care, though. If he hadn’t agreed to be an informant, the Kings would have beaten him bloody before shooting him in the head. He’d owed them that much money.
In his darkest moments, he knew that being an informant was just a temporary bandage on his wreck of a life. No one could keep up a web of lies and secrets for an indeterminate amount of time. One day, he’d have to pay the price.
Of course, all this time, he’d imagined that the price would come in the form of him getting shot or killed.
But this? He didn’t want to fail Mark again. He wanted, no, needed to be able to support Mark and Waneta right now. God had given him this opportunity and he wasn’t going to mess it up. “Mark is going to have surgery on Monday to have a kidney removed.”
“So when could you go to Louisville?” Andrew shot back.
Calvin swallowed, thinking he deserved every bit of Andrew’s disinterest in his pain and worries. After all, he’d been a plenty disinterested person himself. Toward Mark—during the times he had to deal with their wreck of a father, and, on top of that, his reaction when Mark was accused of attacking an Amish girl. “I don’t know.”
A second passed. In the background, Calvin could hear Andrew speak to someone. Papers shuffled. “Okay, how about this?” Andrew said at last. “How about we sweeten the deal by giving you a new truck?”
A truck wasn’t going to ease his conscience. But since those newfound principles hadn’t saved his life, he tried to sound at least a little interested. “You don’t think anyone in the Kings is going to notice me suddenly driving around in new wheels?”
“We’ve already thought about that. You can say that you got some of the money from the sale of the family house.”
“But Mark didn’t sell it.”
“They won’t know that. Or, if you’d rather, just say that you went out and bought it. They’re paying you enough to go buy whatever you want.” Before Calvin could point out that no one in the gang was an idiot, Andrew continued. “If you had a decent truck, you could drive back and forth more easily while you’re there—divide your time between your family and Louisville. Could you make that work?”
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