A Churn for the Worse

by Laura Bradford

  “But it was lacking any real detail, wasn’t it?” She flipped the window sign to its open designation and unlocked the front door.

  “I was hoping she could add some, maybe dispute others.”

  “And?” she asked as she met him in the middle of the store.

  “She took one look at the dark-haired Englisher and said, ‘That’s him.’” Jakob lifted his cup as if readying for a sip, but didn’t take it. “I suggested she sit with the same person who drew Henry’s picture and see if she could add anything. At first she didn’t seem to understand, so I mentioned things like freckles, or bushy eyebrows, or a narrow jaw. When I finished, she just looked at the picture and said there was nothing else.”

  “How frustrating!”

  “Tell me about it.” He took a long pull of his coffee and then peeked over her shoulder toward the front window. “Think I could get another kiss before this place starts filling up with customers?”

  She grinned and obliged. After a few moments, they reluctantly parted ways. “So what are your plans for the day?” she asked, wishing with everything she had that they could spend the day together.

  “Well, I’m hoping that invitation to dinner at your place is still on. I’ve been dreaming about your aunt’s shepherd pie all weekend . . .”

  “Oh, that invitation still stands. In fact, when I was heading out this morning, Diane was asking me whether she should make her special homemade biscuits to go with it.”

  His eyes widened across the top of his to-go cup. “And? What did you tell her?”

  “I told her no.” She tried not to think about kissing him again as his mouth gaped open, and instead, gave him her best wink. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

  “Give a guy a heart attack, why don’t you,” he said as he pulled her in for yet another hug. “Sheesh.”

  “And before that? Any special plans I can live vicariously through you while I’m chatting up customers and hopefully restocking the shelves they empty?”

  His chin bobbed atop her head. “I’m going to whiteboard what I’ve got from the Stutzman farm and this thing at Gingerich’s place. See if something jumps out.”

  “I wish I could help.” Then, realizing how her words sounded, she began to backpedal. “Not because I think you need me but because I find that to be kind of fun.”

  “I do need you, your help has proved invaluable in the past, and doing anything with you instantly makes whatever it is more fun. Including work.” He pressed his lips to her temple and held them there for a long moment. “I’ve gotta find this guy, Claire. One way or the other.”

  Chapter 16

  She felt him studying her as she moved around the now-empty table collecting dirty dessert plates and coffee cups.

  “Would you like anything else?” Claire asked over the stack of plates. “Another piece of pie? More coffee?”

  Jakob shook his head and forced a smile to his lips. “No, I’m good. Thank you, though.”

  “Then I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Wait.” He pushed his chair back from the table and gathered up the half-dozen or so spoons and forks to his left and his right and then held out his arms. “Let me carry that stuff, Claire.”

  “I’ve got it, Jakob. Please. Sit. You’re my guest. Guests don’t have to help clean up from all the other guests.”

  He glanced down at the utensils in his hand and then back up at Claire. “You do realize I don’t want to be just a guest.”

  Something about the detective’s voice sent off a wave of unease that started in her chest and rolled out to her limbs. “Jakob, I . . . I didn’t mean to imply you’re something less than you are to me. I just want to take care of this stuff as I would on any other given night, and then get back out here so you and I can resume our evening together. With fewer people this go-round.”

  “I don’t want to be anyone’s consolation prize, Claire. Especially when you deserve your top choice in everything that matters in life.”

  As if propelled by some sort of autopilot button, Claire made her way back to the table and the chair she’d inhabited throughout her aunt’s traditional Sunday night dinner. Setting the stack of plates and smattering of mugs back atop the tablecloth, she sat and motioned for Jakob to do the same.

  He did, reluctantly.

  “Is this why you were so quiet all through dinner? Because you’re doubting the way I feel about you?”

  “No . . . Yes . . .” He deposited the utensils onto the top plate in the stack and then raked his fingers through his hair. “I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

  “No. But I just don’t understand where this is coming from. Did something happen today?” she asked.

  “I didn’t know it had been that serious.” He stopped, swallowed, and then met her eyes with ones that were pained. “With you and Ben.”

  The unease turned to a chill that washed over her from head to toe. “M-me and Ben?”

  “I mean, I know you two hit it off from the start, but . . .” He leaned back in his chair and released a sigh so loud it almost drowned out the roar in her head.

  Almost.

  More than anything she wanted to play dumb, to act as if she had no idea what he was talking about, but to do so would be just that—playing. And the last thing she wanted to do with Jakob was play games. She cared about him and the relationship they were building way too much for that.

  She reached across the narrow divide between their chairs and took his hands in hers. “Jakob, when I moved here, I was lost. I never pictured myself a divorcée. Ever. I believed marriage was supposed to be forever. Heck, I still believe that. But it didn’t work for me. Coming here, to Diane’s, was difficult. Yes, I love her. And yes, this was exactly where I wanted to be in the aftermath of my failure. But it was still embarrassing. I mean, I wasn’t a little kid or a teenager spending a week or two with my favorite aunt anymore. I was a grown woman who had nowhere else to go.”

  His face softened. “Your aunt loves having you here, Claire. Anyone with half a brain in their head can see that.”

  “And I love being here, too. But, initially, it still felt like I’d failed.” She took a slow, measured inhale and then released it just as slowly. “For six months I almost never left this house. I helped her with the guests, of course, but I was too lost, too hurt to interact with life. Diane knew this and she tried to encourage me every moment of every day. Eventually, I realized she was right. I’d left Peter because I knew I deserved better, yet I wasn’t treating myself any better than he had.”

  “He was a fool, Claire. A complete and utter fool.”

  “One day, Diane asked me what I wanted to do. And I said I wanted to own a gift shop.”

  The faintest hint of a smile inched the right corner of Jakob’s mouth upward and he squeezed her hands. “I’m glad you did.”

  She claimed his full gaze and squeezed back. “I’m glad, too. Opening Heavenly Treasures has changed my life in more ways than I ever could have imagined at the time.”

  “In good ways, yes?”

  “In fabulous ways,” she corrected him before diving back into the reason behind their current conversation. “Suddenly, I had people to interact with—people who talked to me not because I was Diane’s niece, but because I was me. I met Esther . . . and Eli . . . and Ruth . . . and Howard . . . and you . . .”

  “And Ben.”

  At the unfamiliar rasp in his voice, she released his hands, stood, and began wandering around the room, the framed photographs and slightly askew chairs barely registering in her thoughts. “And Ben,” she confirmed. “He was so chivalrous—carrying boxes into my shop, offering to take out the trash, always checking to see if I needed anything. It was . . . nice. Peter wasn’t like that. He was always so lost in his own head that he saw nothing around him. Including me.”

  “So you were interested in
Ben,” he said.

  She stopped when she reached the far side of the table, his words a near perfect match to a question she’d once asked herself a hundred times. A question she’d eventually been able to answer. “For five years I was married to someone who didn’t listen, didn’t hear. Ben heard. I needed that. I needed to share my thoughts—no matter what they were—with someone who would hear me. To suddenly have that . . . with a man, no less . . . it was mind-blowing to me. I mean, I’d actually convinced myself that the reason Peter was so disinterested in me was because of something I was lacking. Yet, here was this man, who not only seemed to like to listen to me, but wanted to listen to me, too.

  “Jakob, I can’t tell you what it was like to feel as if I was interesting to someone—especially a man. I was blinded by that. I really was. But, eventually, I was able to get a grasp on reality.”

  “And what was that?”

  “That Ben, while an amazing listener, is my friend. The feelings I had were about me, not him. He helped me to like myself again. And for that, I’ll be forever grateful, because it allowed me to get here—to this place. With you.”

  He drew back, surprised. “I don’t understand.”

  “Ben helped me to heal. To stop seeing myself as dull. That puff of air, coupled with puffs from Diane and Esther and the rest of my new friends, helped me to believe in myself again. Which, in turn, helped me to be open to you. And”—she pointed between them—“this.”

  Silence filled the space between them, only to be broken by Jakob. “He was willing to leave the Amish for you. To build a life with you as his wife.”

  Instantly, she was back on the bench behind her store with Benjamin, talking about the life they could have and the life he was willing to forgo in order to have one with her. And, for the umpteenth time since that moment, she felt the prick of tears that always accompanied its memory.

  “He was. And I’ll never forget that. But doing that would have been a mistake. For both of us.”

  “How so?” Jakob asked.

  “Ben would have lost everything that mattered to him. His parents. His siblings. His beliefs.” Claire retraced her steps back to her chair and to Jakob. Slowly, she lowered herself down to her chair. “And I would have missed out on you.”

  She saw him swallow just before he pulled her against his chest and held her tight. “I’m sorry, Claire. I just had to know.”

  “I get it.” And she did. No one wanted to be another person’s consolation prize, as Jakob had said. “But how did you find out? About Ben’s offer?”

  He pulled back enough to see her face, but kept his arms around her. “Ben stopped by my office shortly before I came here. He wanted to see if I had anything new to report on Wayne’s death or the robberies. He saw that picture of us that I have on my desk and the next thing I knew, he started telling me how he, too, had been willing to leave the Amish. For you.”

  “Is he . . . okay?” she asked.

  “I think he’s genuinely happy for us. I really do. But I also think he’s wishing he could have something like this, too.”

  “I pray for him to find that nearly every day,” she said honestly. “He’s simply too special not to be someone’s husband, and someone’s father.”

  “I agree.”

  Four months earlier, those words never would have come out of Jakob’s mouth—the decades’-old tension between the two men much too thick. But time had a way of healing all sorts of wounds, and she was glad.

  “Knock knock.” They turned toward the hallway and Diane’s aproned form. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Annie is outside and she is asking to speak with you. I invited her inside, of course, but she is quite reluctant to leave Katie.”

  Returning her gaze to Jakob, Claire knew the disappointment she saw in his face was mirrored on her own. “I’ll keep this short, I promise,” she whispered.

  He leaned in, kissed her so softly it nearly took her breath away, and then stood, holding his hand out to her as he did. “As long as I’m spending the evening with you, it’s all good.”

  * * *

  They were barely through the side door when Annie started crying, her diminutive shoulders shaking beneath her lavender-colored dress.

  Alarmed, Claire pulled her hand from Jakob’s grasp and ran to the parking area, the detective close on her heels. “Annie? Annie? What’s wrong, sweetie? Did something happen to your dat?”

  Annie shook her head hard.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “N-no. I am not hurt.” Wiping the back of her hand across her tear-soaked cheeks, Annie nuzzled her face against Katie’s. “Dat is not hurt.”

  Claire glanced back at Jakob and saw the same confusion she felt. “Then I don’t understand, sweetie. Why are you so upset? Is something wrong with Katie?”

  At the mention of her beloved horse’s name, Annie’s tears turned into sobs.

  “Annie, sweetie. Talk to me.” Claire tugged the girl away from the horse and held her close while Jakob began a long, slow walk around the animal and the buggy. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong.”

  Seconds turned to minutes as the girl’s sobs lessened into sniffles before finally stopping completely. “I . . . I came home early from the hymn sing because it was not fun without Henry.”

  It was hard not to smile at the reason behind the tears. It was even harder not to smile at the deepening confusion on Jakob’s face.

  “Oh, Annie, Henry is dealing with a lot right now. I’m sure he’ll be back at the hymn sings again before long. You just wait and see.”

  “I am not crying because of Henry. I know that he is helping his mamm.” Annie backed herself out of Claire’s arms and ran her hand along the side of Katie. “I am crying because I should be more careful. With Katie.”

  Jakob completed his inspection of the horse and came to stand beside Claire. “She looks fine to me, Annie.”

  “Yah. Because she was with me. But if I had ridden to church with Dat, she could be missing right now.”

  “Annie, I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Claire said. “What did or didn’t you do in regard to Katie?”

  “I did not latch her stall this morning, even when I am sure I did.”

  Jakob reached out, ran a soothing hand down the front of Katie’s face, and then peered back at Annie. “You were probably just focused on getting her hitched to the buggy. We all get distracted sometimes, Annie. It happens.”

  “But what if one day, when she is inside, I am sure I latch it, but don’t? I could lose her. She is curious.”

  “Do you think you’ll do that?” Claire hooked a finger underneath Annie’s chin and guided the teenager’s gaze onto hers. “Because I don’t. I see how careful you are at the store when you work. You always shut the register. You always make sure to remove your step stool the moment you are done using it so customers can’t trip. You double-check the locks whenever you close. Not latching Katie’s stall one time doesn’t make you unfit to care for her, Annie.”

  “I agree with Claire,” Jakob said as he dropped his hand to his side. “But if you’re still worried, just make sure to double-check the door every time you—”

  The familiar jingle of Jakob’s phone cut his suggestion short and had him reaching into the front pocket of his khaki pants with a hurried hand. A glance at the illuminated screen was followed by a raised index finger. “I’m sorry, ladies, I’ve gotta take this. It’s the station.”

  Jakob brought his phone to his ear and stepped off to the side as Claire tucked a strand of hair back inside Annie’s kapp. “Jakob is right, sweetie. Mistakes happen. And I doubt you’d have left the stall unlatched if Katie had been inside. You’re much too careful.”

  Annie opened her mouth to answer but closed it as Jakob returned. “Annie . . . Claire . . . I have to go.”

  “Is something wrong,
Jakob?” Claire asked.

  “That was the dispatcher. Ben called looking for me.”

  Claire drew back. “Ben called you?”

  Jakob nodded and then slipped his phone back into his pocket. “The Amish can use a telephone for business or emergency purposes. Considering what’s been going on around here lately, he felt the call was warranted.”

  “There is a phone in a small shed at the bottom of the Millers’ property.” Annie wrapped her arm around the underside of Katie’s neck and gave the horse a hug. “Near the road. Ruth uses it to place orders for the bake shop.”

  “Okay . . .” Claire looked from Jakob to Annie and back again, a parade of questions filtering through her thoughts and out her mouth. “But why did Ben call you at the station? Is something wrong? Is he okay? Is his family okay?”

  Jakob took Claire’s hands in his and then pulled her forward for a hug. “My gut is that it’s nothing serious. He didn’t ask for assistance and he didn’t ask for an ambulance. He simply asked that they locate me and that I stop by his farm this evening if possible.”

  “So it’s probably nothing, right?” she said, her voice raspy.

  “If Ben is using a phone to call me, I doubt it’s nothing. But if it were something serious, I don’t think he’d have wasted time asking for me.”

  The fear that took root in her heart the second she learned of Ben’s phone call moved down her spine along with a chill. “He asked for you because he trusts you, Jakob.”

  Chapter 17

  They were halfway to the Millers’ when Jakob broke the silence that had settled between them like a third passenger. “I’m sure he’s fine, Claire.”

  Turning her head, she found the closest thing she could to a smile and flashed it at the detective. “I’m sure you’re right. Then again, in all fairness, I know you’re worried, too.”

  “I’m trying not to be. Trying to rationalize Ben’s call in all the same ways I did back at your aunt’s just now.”