Seeing one of those decked-out Suburbans in the middle of Kentucky cave country? Just when he happened to be there? It was too much of a coincidence for his comfort.
When he’d left the day before, he’d been sure that everything was all right. But maybe he’d been wrong. He needed to get on the phone and figure out what was going on. But first, he needed to get Alice home.
“Buckle up, Alice.”
After hesitating a moment, she put on her safety belt. Once she was settled and safe, he pulled out onto the now empty stretch of highway and picked up speed. Already, he was feeling better.
One glance at Alice told him that she wasn’t feeling near as pleased. She was wearing a mutinous expression. Actually, it looked like she was trying real hard to not snipe at him.
Again, instead of feeling irritated by her show of spunk, he was impressed. This little thing, so pretty in her pink sweater, had more grit than most men he knew. Rarely did anyone talk back to him like she did.
Though it would probably be better to let her stew in silence, just like before, he couldn’t resist riling her up a bit. “Care to tell me what you’re thinking?”
She folded her arms across her chest again. “Nee.”
He tried hard not to smile. “You sure? I know you’re irritated with me. You can yell at me if you want, you know. Don’t hold back. I can take it.”
“Calvin, there’s no need for us to discuss anything.”
Hearing something new in her voice, he caught sight of her folding her hands in her lap.
Noticed they were trembling.
All of his amusement and anger evaporated. She wasn’t simply being spunky, she was upset. He was fairly sure that he heard a quiver in her voice. Had he been too harsh?
Thinking back to the way he’d chewed her out, he knew the answer to that. Of course he’d been too harsh.
He should have remembered that she wasn’t like any woman he’d had contact with in recent years. She’d been handled with care and looked after all of her life. She wasn’t used to being treated callously or yelled at.
Embarrassment, mixed with tenderness, flowed through him. He might have enjoyed her strength, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He certainly didn’t want her afraid to speak to him. He was tempted to reach out and curve his hand around hers. Comfort her. Say anything he could to make her feel better.
But that wouldn’t do.
They were never going to have a future together. One day she was going to realize he didn’t have a respectable job. No, it was far from that. He spent most of his days procuring illegal weapons.
Among other things.
He needed to apologize and then step away from her.
Keeping both of his hands on the wheel, he even made sure he stared straight ahead. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Alice.”
“You yelled and you acted like you were trying not to laugh at me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting this way,” he lied. “But seeing you out on the road alone scared me half to death. I can’t take the thought of you being hurt.”
“I was fine.”
But he noticed that she didn’t sound all that convincing. Darting a look her way, he realized that she wasn’t just shaking. There were tears in her eyes.
She wasn’t just upset that he had yelled at her. She really had been afraid. Knowing that erased the last of his efforts to keep his distance and his concerns to himself.
“What happened? What has you so spun up?”
“It was probably nothing,” she said, right before she swiped a hand across her cheek.
Wiping away fresh tears.
The action broke his heart. “Alice, I’m not going to drop this. Actually, I’m about to pull over to the side of the road and wait until I find out what did happen. I’ll wait all night.”
She turned her head, examined him closely. “You truly mean that, don’t you?”
Not trusting his voice, he nodded. It was taking all his willpower not to pull her into his arms and wipe away her tears himself.
“I . . . well, I guess I started thinking about how you were worried about me. It made every car and truck that passed by seem suspicious. I started feeling scared.”
He didn’t doubt her words, but he knew that wasn’t the whole story. “And then?”
She took a deep breath. “A little while before you showed up in your truck, a black vehicle drove by. Twice.”
“What did it look like? Was it a truck? A car?”
“Nee, it was one of those SUVs. It had dark windows, too. When it drove by the second time, it slowed down. I thought it was going to stop.”
Unable to help himself, he released the death grip he had on the steering wheel and reached for her hand. When she didn’t fight his touch, he carefully curved his fingers around her own. “You okay now?”
“I think so.” Her hand tightened under his, then relaxed. Then it flipped. He felt her soft palm curve around his hand. It felt so small against his own.
That movement, along with her answer, eased the tension in his body. She was beginning to trust him. And that? Well, that made Calvin feel almost whole.
Even though the situation was his fault. If he hadn’t been there, the Kings wouldn’t have come to Hart County.
“I’m sorry this happened, Alice.”
“What are you sorry about? It’s not like you had anything to do with that SUV driving around.”
“I know, but I’m sorry it happened.”
“Me, too.” Taking a breath, she smiled slightly. “But it’s over now, right? That SUV is long gone? . . .”
“Right.” After pulling to a stop in front of her house, he placed his other hand over hers. “You may not completely trust me yet, but I want you to know that you can depend on me. If you ever need something, all you have to do is ask.”
Looking down at their hands intertwined together, she pursed her lips again. Then nodded. “All right.”
“All right? You’re going to give in that easily?” He hoped his words would make her smile.
And she did. Pulling her hands away from his, she said, “You remind me a little bit of how things are at school.”
“In your preschool?”
“Jah. Especially little William.”
Part of him felt offended. Here, he’d just vowed to be her protector and she was comparing him to a four-year-old. “And I remind you of him because? . . .”
“William is always so scrappy. He never wants my help right away. I have to coax him to listen to me. I have to sometimes even remind him that I know best.”
“Wait a minute. You’re saying that I am acting like you do with William?”
“Jah.” Her eyes sparkled. “That ain’t a bad thing, though.”
“Don’t worry about me being offended, Alice. I actually think that you just gave me one of the best compliments I’ve ever received in my life.” He unbuckled. “Now, stay there and let me get the door for you. And then I’m going to check the inside of your brother’s haus.”
“Just to be sure everything is all right?”
“Jah,” he said softly. “Just to be sure.”
When she gazed at him with trust in her eyes again, he felt like he was everything. Everything that he’d ever wanted to be.
Chapter 7
Tuesday, February 6
The unfamiliar squawk of sirens woke her up. Lying on the hard mattress in the middle of Edward’s and Bethy’s guest bedroom, Alice tried to get her bearings, then flinched as she heard another set of sirens ring out.
After making sure that Valentine wasn’t scared—and the white-and-gray cat wasn’t, he was sound asleep on the end of the bed—Alice threw on her cozy flannel robe and got out of bed.
While the sirens continued in the distance, she peeked out the window. But of course there was nothing there. Even in her dazed state, she had known that no emergency was taking place on the street.
Stifling a yawn, she looked at the bedside
table, where Bethy had thoughtfully left a digital clock, flashlight, and book of devotions. It was only five in the morning.
Glancing out the window again, she peered into the darkness. The sun was still asleep and the dark winter morning held only shadows. All she could surmise was that a bit of snow had fallen overnight. It made the neighbors’ lawns glisten and the streets turn powdery white.
It was a perfect morning to sleep in, especially since her preschoolers didn’t come to school until noon on Tuesdays.
Well, she was awake now. Disappointing—she’d intended to sleep until at least eight. But now that she was up, Alice wandered downstairs, walked into Bethy’s beautiful kitchen, and put the percolator on the stove for coffee. Ten minutes later, still feeling like something was amiss in the world, she threw on her sheepskin slippers, one of Edward’s thick coats over her robe, and walked out the front door.
The acrid scent of smoke was in the air.
A house must have caught fire. She scanned the area, looking for wisps of smoke, but saw nothing. Only that thick blanket of darkness that the middle of winter brought.
Then she heard a muffled click and spied a faint orange glow. It brought her attention back to the house across the street. And with some surprise, she realized she was watching Calvin Fisher stepping out of a shiny truck.
It might have been dark, but the faint glow from his cigarette and the distant streetlights brought out the fact that he looked different. He had a dark knit cap on his head and what looked like an old army-green jacket over his shirt. Jeans. Boots. When he brought the cigarette to his lips again, she could have sworn that he looked tired.
Unable to help herself, she watched him hold the cigarette between his thumb and index finger, exhale, then bring it to his lips again.
For some reason, she couldn’t stop watching him. Oh, not because she was shocked that he was standing outside smoking so early in the morning. After all, he’d been smoking the first time she saw him. Then, the last time they talked, there had been that faint scent of cigarettes on his skin and clothes.
Or maybe it was that she and Irene had had their fair share of cigarettes. She almost smiled at the memory. When she’d first inhaled, she thought she was never going to be able to take a full breath again. She’d coughed like the naïve girl she was.
Though it was rude, she continued to study him. When she saw him carefully extinguish his cigarette and toss it in a can, then grab a backpack, she couldn’t help but stare at him in wonder.
Why, it looked like he’d been gone all night.
After clicking his key fob, he looked in her direction. Met her gaze. Froze for a second.
Then, to her dismay, he started walking over.
Alice wasn’t sure if she was more embarrassed about how she looked or the fact that he caught her watching him like she had every right to do so.
By the expression on his face, she was pretty sure she’d just made a bad mistake.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he strode up the steps. “It’s kind of early to be standing outside in the cold, don’t you think?”
Alice knew that she should say that she was sipping coffee and enjoying the morning. Except it was about twenty degrees out, there was smoke in the air, and only the streetlights prevented them from being completely in the dark. She resigned herself to tell him the truth.
Surely, that was better anyway. She’d learned a long time ago that practicing deceit only created more pain and embarrassment.
Holding her cup with both hands, partly to keep them warm, partly to have something to do, she shrugged. “I heard the sirens. They woke me up.”
His hand tightened on the soda can he still held. “They were that loud?”
“There were a lot of them. What happened? Do you know?”
“Yeah. A car caught on fire right outside of town.”
“Really? I thought it was a house. I didn’t realize cars could catch fire, too.”
“Of course you wouldn’t have. You hang around horses and buggies.” His smile showed that he was teasing.
Usually, she would have laughed that comment off. Coming from a man like him, who was raised Amish, they both knew that most Amish weren’t deaf and blind, too. But his voice held a new edge to it, and she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “You tell me, then. Why did it burn up?”
“Why are you asking me like I was there? I only drove by and saw the commotion.”
“Why do some cars burn up?”
“I don’t know. Engines get overheated. Wires get torn. People do things they shouldn’t.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
He shrugged. “Probably. An ambulance was there.”
“I hope that whoever was inside will be okay.”
He tilted his head, looking at her closely. “Why do you care?”
His question caught her off guard. “It’s human nature to be concerned, Calvin. Don’t you feel the same way?”
“Not really. If it ain’t my problem, I try not to worry.”
“I’m pretty surprised to hear you say that. What, with your bruder so sick and all.”
Some of the ease in his expression vanished. “That ain’t the same and we both know it.”
She felt her cheeks heat. He was right. Suddenly, she was aware that she’d been jabbing at him. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged again. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a little keyed up. I guess you noticed.”
She lifted her coffee cup. “I need more kaffi. Would you like some? I made plenty.”
“No. Coffee’s the last thing I need.” His voice drifted off. “You care if I smoke out here?”
She should. This wasn’t her house. “You going to put those ashes in that can?”
“I will if it will make you happy.”
“Then I guess it’s okay with me.”
“Danke,” he muttered as he set down the backpack, pulled out a red package of cigarettes, a lighter from a pocket, and lit one quickly.
She watched his eyes close as he inhaled, and it told her everything she needed to know. He was stressed out. “What have you been doing? Why are you up and dressed so early?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why are you asking?”
That was probably a good question. “No reason.”
After he took another fortifying puff, he sat down on her stoop, just like he intended to stay there awhile. “Go get your coffee, Alice.”
She turned and hustled back inside. Valentine was now sprawled across the kitchen counter. She meowed when she saw Alice.
Alice knew the cat well enough to know that she wasn’t greeting her. The cat was annoyed that she hadn’t been fed yet. Walking to the cabinet, she pulled out the box of Meow Bites and poured a generous amount in the cat’s bowl.
Then, before she convinced herself that nothing about sitting on the front porch in her robe and Edward’s coat—with a smoking Calvin Fisher—was good, she poured herself another full cup and walked back out.
He was lighting another cigarette.
“You are sure smoking a lot. Do you smoke this much every morning?” The moment she said the words, she wished she could take them back. What was wrong with her? Though she often spoke her mind, even she wasn’t usually so brash.
“Nee. Only when my bruder is in the hospital.”
So that was where he’d been. “I’m sorry. I should have asked about Mark first thing. How is he?”
“Don’t worry about it, you had other things on your mind.” He shrugged. “When I called to check, the nurse on duty said he was still asleep, and that the next twenty-four hours would tell a lot.”
“So you are waiting.”
“Jah. Neeta is there with her parents. After I shower, I’ll head up and join them.” He smiled then. It was unexpected. “You sure ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m sorry. I do, but I sound rude even to my ears.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Sometimes I can’t help myself. It’s a product
of being around four-year-olds all day, I’m afraid. They ask a lot of questions of me.”
“That’s a good reason, but something tells me that you ask so much because that’s how you are. You’re a curious girl.”
“Maybe so.” She frowned, considering it. “I need to learn to curb my tongue, though.”
“Why?”
“Because it hasn’t done me a lot of favors.”
“I’m sure your tiny scholars don’t mind,” he said with a smile.
“You’re right. They don’t. But no man wants a wife who asks a lot of questions of him.”
With a frown, he tossed the last of his cigarette in the can. “Who said that?”
“No one in particular. It’s just a given.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong men.”
That startled a laugh out of her. “What are you saying? That you would want a girlfriend who asks a lot of questions?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t care if she did. It’s not like you have to answer everything.”
She realized then that he hadn’t been answering everything she asked. Actually, he was real good at evading and redirecting. “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”
He smiled then. “Alice Yoder, you are a piece of work.” As he stood up, he leaned toward her, bringing with him the scent of tobacco and a faint aroma of cologne. “I’m real glad you were out here this morning.”
“Why is that?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“You made everything seem better.” He flashed a smile again. “Kind of like this morning’s sunrise.”
She turned to the east, only saw the faintest hint of a glow. “Calvin, the sun hasn’t risen yet.”
“I know. But the hint of it is there. Some mornings that’s enough, ain’t so?”
She was still puzzling over that when he picked up his backpack and strode across the street. She watched him walk toward the back entrance and toss that can of cigarette butts in the trash, then unlock the door and walk inside.
After he was gone, she looked at the approaching sunrise again. The band of light was wider.
His Risk Page 5
