“I’m waiting for Emma,” he said.
“She’s making supper right now.” Leona lifted her chin. “Apparently she forgot about you.”
“Or someone told her I left.” Mark’s grin never faltered, although fire reached his eyes. “Since she’s busy, I should be on my way. Remind her of our visit. I’ll come by again tomorrow.”
“Not before you and I have had a talk. Sit.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t sit either. Leona sensed evil from the boy. She’d prayed mightily before coming out here. The courage of the Lord supported her. Yet she also felt something else. Pity for Mark King. Sorrow for what he had become, the path he had chosen to take. “There’s still time, sohn.”
Mark stepped back. “I’m not your sohn.”
“Nee. But you are God’s. And He’s calling you back to Him.”
He shook his head and moved toward the porch steps. “You don’t know anything, old woman.”
But Leona could see the change in his eyes. The fear that entered them. “Don’t be afraid, Mark. God will forgive you. For whatever you have done.”
“I have done nothing!” he hissed. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and gave her his chip-toothed smile. “I’m a faithful member of the Amish church. I attend worship. I follow the Ordnung.” His smile widened. “I wish to court your granddaughter.”
“You’ve made your intentions plain in that matter.” Leona breathed in. The chilly air cut through her thin sweater. “Why do you want to court her?”
Mark’s smile dimmed. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve just met her. You’ve spent little time together. What is it about mei sweet Emma that you love?”
“Her kindness,” Mark said quickly. “As you said, she is a sweet maedel.”
“And that’s the only reason?”
“Nee. There are more.” He averted his gaze for a moment. His eyes met hers again. The fear was gone. “But mei reasons for wanting Emma are none of your business.”
“Wanting Emma? Not caring for her? Or loving her?” Leona hobbled forward, pointing her cane toward him. “Emma’s heart belongs to someone else. You’ll not have it.”
Mark laughed. The sound rang hollow, humorless. “You’re ab im kopp, you know that? Whatever drugs they gave you in the hospital addled your mind. If it wasn’t already addled before.”
Leona leaned on her cane again. “Your insults don’t affect me, sohn. I’m only here to ask you to leave our familye alone.”
“Or what?” Mark bent halfway toward her to look her in the eyes. He didn’t bother hiding his contempt. “You’ll chase after me on those feeble legs of yours?”
“I won’t do anything.” Leona turned her back on Mark, making herself vulnerable to him. God was her fortress and guard, and she did not fear Mark King. She opened the door and looked over her shoulder.
“I won’t have to do anything. God will do what needs to be done.”
CHAPTER 24
“Laura, this is a terrible idea.”
Laura Stutzman pulled her suitcase out of the backseat of her friend Abby’s car. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
“But what about your parents? They’ll worry about you.” Abby leaned against the car. Behind them buses spewed exhaust. The grinding of the shifting gears nearly drowned out Abby’s voice.
“I left them a note.” Laura ignored the stares from passersby at the Nashville, Tennessee, station. “I’m an adult. If I want to take a vacation, I can.”
“This isn’t a vacation. And they won’t like that I helped you. They barely tolerate our friendship.”
“That’s not true, Abby.” Laura looked at her friend. “They’re just very . . . quiet.” Laura searched past Abby’s shoulder. “What time is it?”
“Eight thirty. And that’s another thing. You’re traveling all the way to Ohio at night?” She pushed a strand of long brown hair over her shoulder. “They didn’t have any buses going during the day?”
Laura shook her head. It wasn’t true, but she needed to get to Middlefield as soon as possible. As it was, she would have to take three transfers, plus hire a taxi from Ashtabula to Middlefield. Between fares and food along the way, it would take nearly everything she had.
But it was her only chance to get back what Mark King had stolen from her and from her family. “I’d better geh.” She gave her friend a one-armed hug, clutching her suitcase with the other hand. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“I’m going to regret it. And I’ll worry about you.”
“Don’t. God will watch over me.”
“I hope so.” Another bus belched a plume of exhaust. “I pray He will.”
Laura hurried to purchase her tickets. She climbed on the bus, relieved when she saw that it wasn’t full. She sat in the first row, nearest to the bus driver. God might be watching over her, but anxiety still coiled and writhed in her stomach like some poisonous and evil serpent.
Laura stared out the window and watched as the bus pulled out of the station. Her parents would be furious with her when they woke up in the morning. Not that they weren’t already angry. She had made a mistake trusting Mark. A mistake only she could fix.
Her family’s future depended on it.
Clara finished the supper dishes as Peter came into the kitchen. “The kinner are in bed. Julia must have exhausted them. Melvin fell asleep right away.” He came up behind Clara and put his arms around her waist.
She turned in his embrace and gave him a playful tap on the arm. “Peter. Mark could come in any minute.”
Peter’s smile turned rueful. He dropped his arms to his sides. “I’ve been thinking about asking him to leave, Clara.”
“Why would you do that? He’s familye.”
“He has given nothing in return for our hospitality.”
“We should expect nix, Peter. You know that.”
“Not in this case.” Peter took the dish towel from Clara’s hand and set it on the counter. “He knows we’re struggling, yet he hasn’t offered to pay for a single meal. He hasn’t worked a day.”
“He’s helped with the shop. And with you in the barn.”
“Chores Junior and Melvin could handle. I don’t know how to explain it, Clara. I don’t trust him. I haven’t for a while.” He suddenly stepped away and walked to the kitchen door. He peered out, as if he expected Mark to be waiting there. He returned to Clara, lowering his voice. “I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like we’re being used.”
“But it’s for a gut reason. He wants to court Emma.”
Peter shook his head. “He doesn’t act like a mann in love, Clara.”
“Maybe he shows it differently.”
“Or maybe he isn’t in love at all.”
Clara held up her hands. “He probably isn’t because he doesn’t know her well yet. If Adam Otto would stay out of the way—”
“Adam cares for Emma. He’s the one who acts like a mann in love. Not Mark.”
“Why, because he drove her and Grossmammi to the hospital? Because he cleaned out the barn?”
Peter dropped his hands to his sides. “Clara, you have to forgive him for what he did to Emma. You know that.”
She nodded, looking away. “I can’t. Not yet.” She gazed into her husband’s eyes. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Peter. Not about Adam. Or Mark, or anything else.”
He pressed his lips against hers. “I don’t want to fight either. But I’m asking Mark to leave in the morning. He will be gone, Clara. I think that’s the only way we’ll have our lives back.”
Mark stood under the stairwell in the darkened living room. He could barely see the outlines of the furniture in front of him, but he could hear every word Peter said. First Leona wanted him gone, now his cousin.
The old woman he could understand. But he had underestimated Peter. The man wasn’t as weak as Mark thought he was.
Peter suddenly appeared in the living room. Mark didn’t bre
athe. His cousin passed by the staircase, right in front of Mark. He stopped. Mark’s lungs burned as he forced himself not to breathe. Red dots swam in front of his eyes. Finally Peter went up the staircase. When the door to his bedroom shut, Mark exhaled, then took in a huge gulp of air.
He cursed under his breath. Everything was going wrong. It had been so easy to dupe Laura and her family, taken so little time to gain their trust. The people here were just as vulnerable, this family just as battered and bruised. Financial troubles. Illness. Recent death. It should have been so simple to take advantage of them.
Mark knew his time in Middlefield was coming to an end, and soon. Yet he wasn’t going to walk away empty-handed. When he had arrived here, he’d made a vow. And nothing would keep him from fulfilling it.
The first day of November dawned cloudy and crisp. Emma went about doing her daily chores, most of which Adam or his father had done while Leona was in the hospital. She hummed to herself as she collected eggs and listened to the hens’ soft clucking.
The chickens flew out of their laying boxes and went outside to peck at the last remnants of grass in the barnyard. Emma scattered a few handfuls of feed.
Dogs and cats appeared as if by magic as soon as their bowls were filled. They all seemed fat, fluffy, and happy, their coats thickening with the approach of winter. Dill’s foot was still tender, yet she didn’t seem to be in as much pain, thanks to Adam’s diligent care. For once, life seemed almost normal.
Emma grasped the basket of eggs and walked outside. Adam was in the backyard, rake in hand. He’d already collected a decent pile of leaves. He tossed the rake to one side, knelt down, and lit a match, tossing it into the pile. A thin stream of smoke rose from the middle of the limp, dead leaves.
He stood and stared at the pile, his fists resting at his narrow waist. She hadn’t seen him wear his Yankee clothes in a long time. But the truck was still in the driveway, a constant reminder that he could leave at any moment.
Treasure the days you have. She wasn’t sure where the thought had come from. Maybe it was one of her grandmother’s phrases. Or her mother’s.
An ache opened up in her heart. Emma would have done anything to have more time with Mammi. She had felt the same way when Adam left. Now he was here, but instead of taking advantage of the time she had with him, all she could focus on was the possibility of him leaving again.
It was a waste, pure and simple.
Emma strolled over and stood next to him. She set the basket of eggs on the ground, well away from the fire smoldering in the leaves.
“Gut daag to burn them.” Adam kept his focus on the leaves. “No wind. Damp ground from the rain a couple days ago.”
“There are so many to get rid of.” Emma looked around at the piles. Even beyond those, a carpet of oak and maple leaves covered her yard, small patches of green grass peeking through. Yet she didn’t worry about the fire Adam created. She trusted him.
“I’ll do what I can.” He turned to Emma. “I won’t be able to get them all, but I’ll at least make a dent.”
He paused, staring at her.
Emma frowned. “What?”
“Just waiting for you to tell me I don’t have to do anything. Or to geh home so you can finish this.” The teasing glint in his eyes disappeared. “Or for you to tell me to leave you alone forever.”
She looked at him, and something inside her shattered. She’d nursed the past long enough. Since his return a little more than a month ago, they had danced around what happened the night he left Middlefield. It was time to talk about it. Neither of them would have peace if they didn’t.
Before she could say anything, he looked at the leaves again. “Seeing Mark again today?”
“Why would you think that?”
He shrugged. Pushed at the edge of the leaves with the toe of his boot. “Figured he’d be by today. To continue your date.”
“It wasn’t a date. I’m not interested in Mark.”
“Then why did you geh for a walk with him?”
Was that jealousy she heard in his tone? “He asked me to. I didn’t want to be rude.”
“You could have said nee.”
“But I didn’t.” She glanced at him. “Sounds like that might bother you.”
He turned and faced her. “Ya. It bothers me. I already told you I don’t trust him.”
She looked into his eyes. “Is that the only reason?”
CHAPTER 25
Adam couldn’t answer her. He also couldn’t drag his gaze away from her. She seemed different this morning. The lively spark that once filled her eyes had returned. Behind her the clouds had parted slightly, revealing pale yellow streaks of sunbeams. The light illumined her, but the sunshine wasn’t what made her glow. It was something else.
“You haven’t answered my question.” Emma’s lips curved into a soft smile.
He’d forgotten the question completely. But he couldn’t admit that. Instead he busied himself with the fire, stirring the leaves with the tines of the rake, just enough to let the fire spread a little, but not get beyond his control.
He wished he could do the same with his emotions.
When he glanced at her, he could see her smile had faded. The spark dimmed. She reached for the basket of eggs. “Never mind. I need to start breakfast. Leona’s been sleeping in since she arrived from the hospital. I’m glad; she needs the rest—”
“Emma.” He took the basket from her hand and set it down. “I don’t trust Mark.”
“You’ve said that.” Her brown eyes dulled. “Several times.”
“But that’s not the only reason I don’t want him coming around.” The words he wanted to say next stuck in his throat. The words he should have said that night two years ago. The night she begged him not to leave. The night she kissed him. The night she told him she loved him.
“Adam?” Her tone betrayed her annoyance. She shook her head. “Forget it. I’m going back to the haus.”
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m sorry I left.” He stepped toward her. The rich smoky scent of incinerating leaves surrounded them. “I’m sorry I left the way I did.”
Emma held his gaze. “I know. And I resented you for it. For a long time.” When he started to speak, she held up her hand. “But I realized I resented myself even more. For being such a fool. For putting you in the position I did. Revealing my feelings that way.” Her cheeks reddened. She looked down. “I was . . . desperate.”
He could sense her embarrassment. Wanted to wipe it away. An apology couldn’t do that. It couldn’t erase the regrets they both clung to. “You were being honest. I admired you for that.”
She looked up at him. “You did?”
He nodded. “You were honest when I couldn’t be. I should have told you the truth, Emma. The real reason I left. I only told you part of it.”
Her lips started to tremble. “Then what was it? Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t feel like I belonged here.” He looked past her shoulder, at the plain Amish house with the simple, brand-new fabric shop just beyond it. Breathed in the scents of smoke, of straw, of cows and horses. “I couldn’t see myself as a farmer. Or being Amish. I didn’t want to follow the rules.” He looked at her. “Mei vadder’s rules.”
“Adam, I know all that.”
He looked at her, his gaze stopping at her mouth. Remembered the tender kiss she’d given him. The first kiss for them both. And after she kissed him, he’d walked away. “You deserve better than that, Emma.”
Her thin eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t understand.”
“You deserve better than me. That’s why I left the way I did. You didn’t need a messed-up kid who confused God’s ways with his daed’s.” He turned from her. “Emma, you need someone worthy of the woman you are. Someone who would put you first before himself. I’m not that mann.”
He flinched when she touched his arm. He looked down at her hand. Her lovely hand. He longed to cover it with his own.
“Adam,
maybe you weren’t that mann then.” When he turned to her, she met his eyes with her soft brown ones. “But you were the mann I wanted. The best friend I fell in love with.”
“And now?” He barely formed the question.
She dropped her hand from his arm. “You know the answer to that.” Emma picked up the basket of eggs and headed for the house.
Adam didn’t stop her. Because they both knew he couldn’t give her what she wanted. What she deserved. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Clara hummed as she finished the breakfast dishes. Peter had left a few minutes ago, still determined to check out any new job opportunities. “It can’t hurt,” he told her. Now that the fabric shop would be opening in a couple of days, Clara didn’t see the need. But she realized Peter had been doing this all along. While she had been complaining and worrying about him finding work, he had been searching for jobs every day. She’d simply been too involved in herself to realize it.
Behind her, Magdalena banged on her high chair. Clara turned around and smiled at her daughter. After talking with Peter last night, hope had blossomed inside her. She dried her hands on the kitchen towel and picked up her daughter, hugging her close.
Junior and Melvin were outside, supposedly raking leaves. When Clara peeked out the window, they were throwing handfuls of them at each other instead of forming them into neat piles. She started to reprimand them but changed her mind. So what if the leaves didn’t get done right now? Later she would go outside while Magdalena napped and they would rake them together. Maybe Peter would be back by then and they could do the chore as a family.
Except for Mark. She hadn’t seen him since last night. He’d left before she and Peter got up this morning. Perhaps he was on another of his long walks. She frowned and kissed Magdalena’s tiny clenched fist. She still wasn’t sure Peter was right about Mark leaving so soon. Yet her husband had a point. His cousin hadn’t done much work since he’d been here, hadn’t offered to pay for any food, and his interest in Emma seemed erratic.
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