The Middlefield Family Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  “Take your time.” She didn’t seem surprised by his answer. Or upset. It was almost as if she’d anticipated his response. For someone who had been in such a hurry to whisk him out of Middlefield, her sudden patience seemed suspect.

  Or maybe she really was trying to be conciliatory. He couldn’t be certain.

  Only one thing was sure: when it came to Cora Easley, nothing was uncalculated.

  Carol took off her kapp and unpinned her hair. It fell to her waist. She twisted the thick strands into a loose braid and laid it over her left shoulder. She changed into her nightdress and climbed into bed, slipping between cool, crisp sheets that smelled of autumn air. For a minute or two she looked at the empty place in the bed where Norman slept. Then she rolled over and faced the wall.

  A short while later, she heard the bedroom door open. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep. The steady thud of Norman’s boots against the wood floor made her flinch. She heard him undress and prepare for bed. Every night was the same. He would lie on his side, his back to hers, a wide vertical space between them. She waited for him to turn off the battery-powered lamp on his nightstand.

  “Carol?”

  She held perfectly still, holding her breath and waiting for him to leave her alone.

  He touched her arm. “Carol.”

  Her eyes opened at the sound of his voice. It had been ages since she’d heard him use that soft tone. So long since she’d felt the warmth of his touch, like she did now, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of her white nightgown. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to turn over. But if he demanded that she did, she would comply.

  She waited for him to do just that. Instead, he lightly ran his hand up and down her arm.

  “Carol. I know you’re awake. It’s all right if you don’t want to look at me. I understand. Please, just listen.”

  Why was he being so kind? So gentle? Curiosity overwhelmed her. She rolled over and looked into his hazel eyes. Tears glistened in the corners.

  “Carol, I have something to tell you. Something I should have told you long ago. But I was ashamed.”

  She put her hand to her chest. Her pulse beat beneath her palm, yet it felt like her heart had stopped. “Ashamed of what, Norman?”

  He wiped his eyes with the pads of his thumbs and drew in a breath. “I’ve wronged you, mei fraa. I have wronged you in so many ways.”

  Anger suddenly took control. Carol sat up and turned on him. “Are you talking about Mary?”

  He gaped. “You knew?”

  “Ya. I knew.”

  “How?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He shook his head. “Nee. It doesn’t.”

  “How could you do this to me?” She tried to fight back the tears. She failed. “How could you be with another woman?

  With mei best friend?”

  “I didn’t . . . It wasn’t like that.” He hung his head and didn’t speak for a moment. “Nix happened.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Norman.”

  “I’m not. After James died, I did go to Mary. She needed help, as you know. Two young maed to take care of, plus James’s mudder. Animals to look after. I was doing my job as a deacon. Taking care of a widow. I was doing what the Lord called me to do.”

  “The Lord did not call you to have an affair.”

  “We didn’t have an affair. It never came to that. But it could have.” He sighed. “She kept telling me how lonely she was. How much she missed James. She wondered how she could go on without him. Then Adam started acting out.” He looked at her. “It seemed like you were always taking his side.”

  “So that made it okay?”

  “Nee. None of it was okay. Or right. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I put my arm around her.” He closed his eyes. “And then . . . we kissed. Once.”

  One kiss? Pain shot through Carol’s heart. Hearing Mary’s confession had been bad enough. Imagining what might have happened between Norman and Mary had been excruciating. All the pain, all those years, for one kiss?

  Yet even if it was only one kiss, that didn’t make it easier to accept.

  “We both knew we had sinned. That what we’d done was wrong. We both carried so much guilt. We promised not to speak of it. We didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  Carol got up and stalked to the end of the bed. “You hurt me.”

  Norman moved to her. “I know. And I’m so ashamed, Carol. I was ashamed of what I’d done, and I couldn’t tell you. Mary couldn’t either. We thought if we kept quiet and pretended like it never happened, we could both forget.”

  Carol’s whole body shook. Yet a small sense of relief penetrated her anger. She covered her face with her hand. Then she turned and looked at him. “This was my fault too.”

  “Nee.” He came to her and gripped her shoulders. “Is this what you’ve been doing all these months? Why you’ve been so distant? So upset? You’re blaming yourself?”

  She couldn’t speak as the tears continued to flow. She nodded. “If I had been the fraa I was supposed to be, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “That’s not true.”

  But she saw a flash of agreement in his eyes. “We’ve been drifting apart for a long time, Norman. We can blame it on Adam, on Mary, on life.” She looked down. “It’s so easy to blame everyone but ourselves.”

  “You’re right.” Norman sat down on the end of the bed. His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

  Carol sat next to him. “I don’t either.”

  “I do love you, Carol. That’s never changed.” He reached out and took her hand.

  “I love you too.” She looked into his eyes. “But is it enough?”

  He nodded. “Until we get through this, it has to be.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Cora fluffed her short layered hair with her fingers and thought about her conversation with Sawyer the evening before. She could tell he had been suspicious about her sudden change of attitude. If she had been in his position, she would have felt the same.

  She looked in the small standing mirror on top of the bureau. Leaned forward and put a few dabs of expensive antiaging cream under her eyes. And ignored the tremor in her fingers as she smoothed it out.

  As she dressed, she pondered the ease with which her grandson could turn his back on such a rich legacy. On so much money. Just as Kerry had done. And he was doing it for the same reason.

  For love.

  Even if he couldn’t admit it. Even if he wasn’t aware of it, only something as strong as love could motivate the rejection of a massive fortune, unending opportunity, and a chance at freedom millions could only dream about.

  The freedom only millions could buy.

  A short while later, the taxi pulled into the Bylers’ driveway. One thing she could say for Middlefield, there was no shortage of available drivers. She handed the middle-aged woman a hundred-dollar bill. “Wait until I come out.”

  The woman’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She looked at the bill, then back at Cora. “Are you sure you didn’t mean to give me a ten?”

  “When it comes to money, I never make a mistake.” Cora stepped out of the cab as the driver turned off the engine. She took a deep breath as she headed for the woodshop. Her grandson might have a rebellious streak that rivaled his mother’s, but Cora had something else.

  Resources. And she wasn’t afraid to use them.

  The small bell over the door dinged as she strode inside. She held her shaking hands together until the movement stopped. She couldn’t appear weak. She was here to meet with a poor Amish girl, not some major stockholder of her corporation. Bolstered, she looked around at the empty workshop.

  Where was everyone? To hear Sawyer talk, these people worked nonstop. The scent of wood and varnish penetrated the air and irritated her allergies. Nauseating. Not to mention dusty.

  “Can I help you?”

  Cora glanced up at the soft Southern accent and quickly adjusted her expression from one of disdain to pit
y and concern.

  Laura froze when she saw Sawyer’s grandmother standing just inside the door to the woodshop. The woman was finely dressed, as usual. Hesitating, Laura finally looked at Cora’s face. She saw what she had been afraid of seeing since the day of the accident. Pity, bordering on revulsion.

  No one had looked at her like that before. But then again, she’d only had dealings with the Amish community and a few English visitors. Sawyer’s grandmother was different from any other woman she knew. Cora didn’t bother to hide her reaction.

  Was this how people really saw her? As someone to be pitied?

  She forced the hurt aside. “Can I help you?” she repeated, determined to treat Cora like any other person who came into the shop.

  “I was looking for Sawyer.” Cora’s chin lifted, her gaze drifting down the bridge of her nose. “Is he here?”

  “He went on a delivery with his father.” She made sure to put emphasis on Lukas’s role in Sawyer’s life. “When he comes in, I’ll tell him you were looking for him.”

  “Actually . . .” Cora stepped forward. Her thin lips formed a tense smile. “Since we’re both here, I thought perhaps you and I could talk.”

  Laura paused. “What would we have to talk about?”

  “You’d be surprised.” She glanced around the shop again.

  “Is there a place where we can converse in private?”

  Laura didn’t answer right away. This woman had to be up to something. She could sense it. Finally, she said, “In my office.”

  “Oh, you have an office? How . . . professional.”

  Laura bristled at the subtle dig. No wonder Sawyer didn’t want to have anything to do with this woman. She could hardly believe they were blood family.

  “Follow me.” She opened the door and gestured to the simple chair at her desk. “You can sit here, if you’d like.”

  Cora nodded. She brushed off the seat of the chair before sitting down. Even while looking up at Laura, she managed to look down on her.

  Laura folded her arms across her chest. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “An opportunity. One you won’t want to turn down.”

  “Puttin’ the plow ahead of the mule, don’t you think?”

  Cora laughed. “Lovely accent. Where are you from?”

  “Tennessee.” She leaned against the wall.

  “And why are you in Middlefield?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Mrs. . . .”

  “Easely. But you can call me Cora.” She placed her purse on the desk. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped.”

  Laura doubted the apology was sincere—or that the woman had ever uttered the words “I’m sorry” with anything like genuine remorse. Every word, every movement was calculated. In a subtle, unnerving way, Cora Easely reminded her of Mark. “You should get to the point. I have work to do.”

  “Ah, yes.” The pity had returned to her eyes. “It’s utterly awful what happened to you, my dear. I know how much a paper cut hurts, so I can only imagine what you’ve been through. Not just physically, but emotionally. Facing every day, knowing you’re permanently disfigured.”

  Laura flinched.

  “Our society . . . well, people can be so cruel.” Cora crossed her slender legs. “And you’re so young. Do you mind me asking how it happened?”

  “Yes. I do.” She couldn’t believe the woman’s nerve.

  “Ah. I suppose that was rather nosy of me.” The woman’s smile held no warmth. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Live with knowing that each day could bring a nasty comment about your face?”

  “Like the one you just made?”

  Cora’s smile grew. “That was merely a statement of fact. You seem to be a smart girl. Very direct. I can appreciate that. I can also see why Sawyer is . . . attracted to you.”

  Her words took Laura off guard. Sawyer? Attracted to her? Had Sawyer said something to his grandmother? The whole idea was ridiculous.

  It was also wonderful. But she didn’t believe a word of it.

  “I see what you’re thinking.” Cora adjusted the jeweled bracelet around her thin wrist. “You’re wondering how I know. I just do. A grandmother knows her grandson.”

  “Even one she just met?”

  The woman’s smile shifted. Not much, but it was visible if you looked close enough.

  “Yes. He’s very much like his mother. He misses her still.

  You never fully get over the death of a family member. You eventually accept it and move on, but there’s an empty place inside that remains forever.”

  Laura dropped her arms. Despite not trusting Cora, she did have sympathy for her when it came to her daughter. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how much Sawyer’s parents meant to him.”

  “Yes. Family means everything. True family, that is.” Cora leaned forward. “But I’m afraid Sawyer is letting his emotions interfere with what’s best for him.”

  “Which is?”

  “To return to New York. To learn about his past. To accept his true role in life. Surely you can understand that’s what he needs to do?” She settled back in the chair. “But he’s refusing to listen to reason.”

  “He’s an adult. He can make up his own mind.”

  “Of course he can. But there are things holding him back. His adoptive parents, for one. Yet I’m hoping they can convince him that coming to New York to learn more about his real family is the wisest choice.” She peered at Laura. “And then there’s you.”

  Laura shifted on her feet. “Me?”

  “You care for my grandson, don’t you?”

  She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. She couldn’t lie, not about Sawyer. “Ya. I do.”

  Cora slowly rose from the chair. She stepped forward, closing the space between them. “Then I can count on you to talk to him?”

  “You want me to convince him to leave Middlefield? To leave the family he loves?”

  “He can come back to visit. Other than appreciation for what the Bylers have done for him, what is really tying him here? Unless you think there’s a future for you?”

  Laura inched away until her back pressed up against the wall.

  Cora’s intense gaze pinned her in place. “You realize that’s not possible.”

  “Sawyer might join the church.” Desperation forced her to voice the thought out loud. But with each passing moment she realized Cora was right. What kind of future would she have with Sawyer? Even if he cared for her the way she hoped? Although she struggled with some aspects of her faith, she had no plans to leave the Amish. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to join.

  “Laura, you’re a sweet girl. A kind girl. If you really care for Sawyer as much as you seem to, you won’t make him feel like he has to stay here with you. My grandson has a sensitive side to him. Kerry was like that. She used to take in strays. Feel sorry for her friends who were less fortunate. She always wanted to fix what was wrong.” Cora’s gaze traveled over Laura’s face.

  “Do you really think Sawyer can fix you?”

  Tears sprang to Laura’s eyes. She glanced away.

  Cora took a step back. “Do what’s right for Sawyer, Laura. Let him go. Set him free to be the great man he’s supposed to be.”

  Laura wiped her damp cheek. Sawyer was already a great man. But she understood Cora’s meaning. He was destined for more than being a carpenter’s apprentice. He deserved more than a scarred, flawed woman.

  “All right. I’ll talk to him,” Laura said.

  Cora smiled. She walked to the desk and pulled a checkbook and a gold pen out of her purse. “I believe in rewarding loyalty,” she said. She signed the check with a flourish, tore it out of the book, and handed it to Laura.

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “I know you don’t. But I want you to have it, as a token of my appreciation.” She held out the check. “There is enough here to pay for plastic surgery. If you need a recommendation, I know several goo
d surgeons, both in New York and Beverly Hills.”

  Laura didn’t know who Beverly Hills was, and she didn’t care. The reality of what Cora offered sank into her. No more scars. No more worrying about what others would say and think about her. She’d have a chance to be whole again.

  But could she be whole without Sawyer?

  The thought stunned her. But before she had a chance to examine what it meant, another idea occurred to her, one that couldn’t wait. “I’ll talk to Sawyer,” she said. “But before I do, I need another favor.”

  Surprise colored Cora’s features. “More money? I thought you people didn’t care about wealth.”

  “This isn’t about money,” Laura said. “It’s about justice.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Laura paced back and forth in her office. Anxiety coiled and writhed like a snake inside her. Cora had left more than thirty minutes ago, and Sawyer hadn’t returned. What had she done, agreeing to Cora’s plan? She looked at the check on her desk. More money than she had ever imagined. Plus the woman’s promise to help her, once Sawyer was in New York and away from Middlefield.

  Away from her.

  She picked up the check, and for the briefest of moments she thought of ripping it to shreds. She remembered her talk with Sawyer yesterday. How he gently touched her scar. Opened up to her. She had never known anyone like him before. When they first met, she wanted him to leave her alone. Now she looked forward to seeing him every morning. The rides home in the evening. Standing by his side as he went through this difficult time with his grandmother.

  Her feelings for him weren’t the crazy infatuation she’d felt for Mark. Instead, it was something deeper. More satisfying.

  Real.

  But once he went to New York, then what? He wouldn’t come back, at least not for her, not after he had a taste of what money and the city had to offer.

  She put the check in her purse. Cora was right. Laura couldn’t hold him back. She wouldn’t. And although it was tearing her heart in two, she and Sawyer were both getting what they needed—his future, and her revenge.