by Debby Giusti
The waitress appeared, seemingly from thin air, probably because he had been so focused on Julie and what she had revealed.
“More coffee?” she asked, placing the loaded plates in front of them. Without waiting for a reply, she refilled their mugs.
William was no longer hungry. He picked at his food and paid the bill as soon as Julia placed her fork on the table and wiped her mouth on the napkin. She had eaten little. Both of them seemed to have lost their appetites.
“I need to buy some groceries,” she said as they walked toward the door.
Glad for something to talk about other than the past, Will nodded. “Harvey Jones still runs the only grocery store in town.”
“How’s he doing?”
“You know Harvey. A friend to all.”
“And Mrs. Jones?”
“Nancy’s about the same. She has good days and bad days. I doubt she will ever get over her daughter’s death.”
“She doted on Anna. We were good friends, but I must admit to being a little envious. I wanted to wear her fancy Englisch clothes and have colorful bows in my hair.”
“That’s typical for a young Amish girl.”
“My mamm said it was prideful. She wanted me to stop seeing Anna.”
“Like your father wanted you to stop seeing me.”
She glanced up at him. He saw something in her gaze that made him wonder if she felt as confused as he did.
The door pushed open, and Mose Miller stormed inside, nearly knocking over Julianne.
“Watch where you’re going.” William caught her arm to keep her from stumbling backward. “Apologize to the lady.”
Mose was big and bulky, and liked to shove his weight around, which wasn’t a good attribute for an Amish guy. Some said he was a powder keg waiting to explode.
“Get outta my way,” he snarled at William and then turned and nodded to Julianne. “Pardon me, ma’am. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
His tone was less than sincere, and something about the way he glared at Julianne made William think about the man who had attacked her. He glanced down and saw scratches on Mose’s hand and a bandage around his index finger.
“Who was that?” Julie asked.
“Mose Miller. He married Emma Yoder.”
“Bennie’s girlfriend?”
Will nodded. “They married a couple years after your brother’s death. They have a baby on the way. The talk in town is that Mose hopes to buy his own land to farm before their child’s birth. Right now, they’re living with his parents on thirty-five acres closer to town.”
“I’m sorry for Emma.”
“A lot of folks in town feel the same way.”
If Julianne left Mountain Loft without selling her property, the county could take the farm and dispose of the land at auction, well below the market price.
Will glanced back and caught Mose’s gaze as he sat at the table they had just vacated. Mose wanted his own land, and he was known for getting what he wanted. Will didn’t like the thoughts that kept popping through his head.
As the sheriff had mentioned, an Amish guy could borrow a car—a white car—from an Englischer friend, but if so, would he try to frighten a woman off her land? Would he kick her and attempt to drag her into the bushes?
William’s gut tightened. How far would a man like Mose go to acquire his own farm?
THREE
Stepping into the grocery store brought back more memories that tugged on Julianne’s heart. She saw the plaque on the wall that hung below the crossed mining picks: Jones Grocery, 1828. Harvey Jones traced his lineage to the store’s first owner, who had served the early miners searching for gold. A map on the wall showed the site of the mine that had been in his family for generations.
Bennie had stocked shelves here as a young teen and had managed the store in the evenings when he was older. She could still see him standing behind the counter, laughing at the jokes some of the old Amish farmers would tell.
Mr. Jones, wearing an apron over a navy button-down collared shirt and khaki slacks, stood with his back to the door and turned as she entered. The look of surprise that crossed his face brought a smile to her lips.
“Why, Julianne Graber, you bring a bit of sunshine to this old man’s day.”
Her heart warmed at his remark. “I won’t hear of you saying old, but it’s good to see you, Mr. Jones.”
He playfully wagged his finger. “Now, now, dear girl, you’re an adult and old enough to call me Harvey like everyone else in town. What brings you back to Mountain Loft?”
William followed her inside. Harvey nodded a perfunctory greeting.
“I need to sell my family farm,” Julianne admitted as she grabbed a shopping cart.
“I saw a copy of the letter the county mailed out.” Harvey shook his head. “Hard enough to come back after what happened. Even harder when you have to deal with bureaucrats.”
“The good thing is that selling the property will bring closure,” she insisted.
“Of course, it will.” He thought for a moment. “There’s a new B and B in town. Is that where you’re staying? Or did you get a room at the motel on the mountain road?”
“I need to stay at the farm so I can go through my datt’s things and be available if buyers want to look at the house.”
He pursed his full lips and thought for a moment. “Let me handle the sale of your property, Julianne. It’s the least I can do as close as you and Anna were growing up. You don’t need to upset yourself going home again. I’ll let you know about any interested buyers. I can send the necessary documents to you wherever you’re living if a deal comes in.”
She appreciated his thoughtfulness. “I have an apartment in Dahlonega, but I’m here now and plan to see this through.”
His gaze warmed. “Your father would be proud of you.”
Although Harvey meant well, his comment was like a slap to her face. How could her father be proud of her after she had tattled on her brother, thinking he had arranged to meet with William that night? Not that she’d thought Bennie would ever kill their datt, but he must have felt threatened, since he had his gun in hand. No doubt, their heated argument had escalated into something neither of them could have foreseen.
William touched her arm. “You have groceries to purchase.”
Grateful that he had steered her back to the purpose of their visit, she nodded and pushed the shopping cart down the aisle.
“Can I help you find anything?” Harvey asked.
“Unless you’ve reorganized the shelves, I should be able to locate everything I want.” She placed a pound of coffee in her cart, then continued to gather the other items she would need for the few days she planned to stay in Mountain Loft.
The bell over the door rang. Julianne turned to see Deacon Abraham Schwartz enter. A tall man with a gray beard and pointed nose, he and her father had been friends.
“Morning, Abe,” Harvey called out. “I’ve got your order ready.”
The deacon smiled, but when he noticed Julianne, his face soured. He glanced at Harvey and shook his head. “Hold it for me, Harvey. I’ll return later.”
The sting of rejection pulled at her heart, and she hurried through the rest of her shopping. She had never been baptized and therefore had never been shunned in the full sense of the word for leaving her faith, but anyone who turned fancy wasn’t exactly welcome within the Amish community.
“Don’t forget ice if you want to use your datt’s refrigerator,” William suggested.
She didn’t know if Will understood the significance of the deacon’s hasty retreat, but she was grateful to focus on needing to keep perishable items cold instead of on Abe Schwartz’s obvious snub.
“Thanks for reminding me. I’ve gotten used to having electricity.” She had gotten used to a lot of things over the last three years. Living
Amish might prove to be a challenge.
After she had paid for the groceries, the door to the store opened again, and Mrs. Jones stepped inside. She was tall and slender with big green eyes, just like Anna.
Seeing Julianne, she gasped. Confusion flashed in her troubled gaze.
With her heart aching for the still-grieving mother, Julie stepped closer. “Mrs. Jones, do you recognize me?”
The older woman blinked back tears. “How could I not, Julianne? Although for a moment with your long hair, I thought...”
She had thought her own daughter, Anna, was standing before her. People had often commented the girls could be twins as they’d played in front of the grocery.
“I told Julianne she should stay at the B and B in town or the motel on the mountain road,” Harvey said from behind the counter.
“Or you could stay with us, dear,” Mrs. Jones offered.
Which would only unsettle the fragile woman even more. “Thank you, but as I told Harvey, there’s work to be done at home before I sell the farm.”
“Yes, dear, of course, but you must come again soon.”
“I will, for sure.” After saying goodbye, she and Will gathered the groceries in their arms and headed to the car.
“Mrs. Jones was having one of her good days,” Will said as he opened the trunk of the car. “The roads were icy that night, but she still blames herself.”
Guilt was a heavy burden to carry. Julianne knew that all too well. Anna had died when the car Mrs. Jones was driving went off the road. The long-grieving mother couldn’t forgive herself.
Julianne understood grief. She had lost too many people she loved. Perhaps that’s why she had left the Amish community and isolated herself in the Englisch world. Folks in Dahlonega were friendly, but they were slow to open their hearts and their homes to a young woman new to town. Three years, and she only had a handful of friends. Probably because of her desire to keep her distance. If she got close, she would have to share her story. Some things were better left unsaid.
William knew her past, but he wasn’t a threat. Plus, she was grateful for his help. Her aunt had mused that William might have been involved in what happened that night, but Julianne knew better. He had been with her at the lake until she’d hitched a ride home with Rachel Hochstetler.
By then, her father was dead. And her brother?
If Bennie had been dead, why had she heard the door in the kitchen close behind her?
* * *
William finished loading the groceries in Julie’s car and closed the trunk. “Where to now?”
“Do you mind if I stop at Mountain Real Estate?” Julianne asked.
“Not a problem. Brad Abbott moved his office to the end of the next block.”
They parked in front of the real-estate building and climbed from the car. William held the door for Julianne and followed her inside.
Gloria Davenport, the blond receptionist, smiled as he entered. “How are you, William? It’s been a long time.”
He nodded. Gloria had snuck out of her house to meet him at the lake a few times when they were young.
“You remember Julianne Graber.” He motioned to Julie.
The receptionist forced a smile. “Brad said you wanted to talk to him about selling your farm. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She rose from the desk and hurried to an office farther down the hall.
“Didn’t I hear a rumor about you and Gloria?” Julia said with a smirk.
“We were friends.”
“Very good friends from what I heard.”
“People talk. They don’t always tell the truth.”
She nodded. “You’re right.”
Gloria hurried back and pointed to the office she had just left. “Brad said he’ll see you now.”
The last thing William wanted was to make small talk with Gloria. “I’ve got an errand to run. I’ll meet you at your car, Jules.”
The door opened, and a big guy wearing muddy work boots and a black fleece jacket stepped inside. He looked at William and frowned, then stared at Gloria.
“What’s going on, babe?”
“Nothin’, Ralph. These folks are here to talk to Brad.”
He glanced again at William. “You sure about that?”
“Actually, I was just leaving,” William said.
Ralph Reynolds had grown up in the mountains with an alcoholic dad and four brothers who all had a penchant for trouble. Two were in jail. The youngest brother was addicted to meth. The family’s track record wasn’t good. William had heard Gloria was seeing Ralph. In William’s opinion, he was a bad apple from a rotten tree, and Gloria deserved better.
After nodding farewell, Will hurried outside. The errand he had mentioned was actually a call he needed to make. Gloria would have let him use the office phone, but he wanted to distance himself from the past and from a seemingly jealous boyfriend who had jumped to the wrong conclusion.
The words of wisdom from his father had proved true. “You reap what you sow,” his father had told him more than once. If only Will could go back in time and relive his youth.
“Gott, forgive me,” Will said as he hurried to the phone booth.
Once he had completed his call, he waited by Julie’s Honda. “How did it go?” he asked as she left the office and neared the car.
“He’s coming by tomorrow to look over the property. We’ll talk selling price then.”
“Did he say how the market is?”
“The Englischers aren’t buying much in the area, but the Amish often want to move here from other locations. He’ll place an ad in The Budget newspaper, which could attract a buyer, but first he wants to see the property and the house. Thanks for keeping the place looking good, William.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
She stared at him as if confused by his comment.
The least he could do because he hadn’t taken her home that night. If he had, she wouldn’t have entered the house alone. He still didn’t believe Bennie had knocked her out.
Bennie and Julie had had their spats as siblings, but they’d loved one another. Bennie wouldn’t have hurt his sister, yet someone had. If not Bennie, then who?
Before Julianne backed out of the parking space, the sheriff flagged them down. “I’ve got good news.”
“You caught the man who attacked me?” she asked.
“The deputy’s bringing him in as we speak. I’ll question him and hold him overnight. Stop by tomorrow, and we can draw up those charges.”
“You’re confident he’s the one?”
“Almost one hundred percent. Rest easy tonight, Ms. Graber.”
“That is good news,” Julia said to William as they headed out of town.
Good news if the sheriff’s assumption panned out. William thought of the miners who had flocked to Mountain Loft hoping to strike it rich. They had all been optimistic, yet for most of them, their dreams had never come true.
Julianne wanted the attacker to be apprehended. William did, as well, but the sheriff was known for taking shortcuts. With Julianne’s safety in question, William wanted to ensure the real attacker had been detained before he let down his guard.
FOUR
William was uneasy about leaving Julie alone at her farm. He carried her groceries inside, placed the ice in the cooling tray of the refrigerator and brought in wood for her stove. After starting the fire, he asked if he could do anything else to help her.
She expressed her thanks but seemed ready for him to leave. Perhaps she needed time alone to adjust to the house and the memories. Still, his heart went out to her. Determined though she was to sell the farm, he feared she had a fragile underpinning that could easily crack under duress.
Later that night, when the chores were done, he walked back to her house. Just as he turned into the drive, he heard the clip-clop
of a horse’s hooves approaching on the road from town. As William watched, Mose Miller passed by in his buggy. He kept his eyes on his mare and flicked his whip to speed the horse along the narrow road that led to the lake.
William had heard him berating Emma on more than one occasion and had stepped in to offer his assistance a few weeks ago, which was probably why Mose’s temper had flared earlier today at the Country Kitchen.
Will watched the buggy until it disappeared from sight, then he hurried toward Julianne’s house and knocked on the door.
“It’s Will,” he called out, hoping to allay any concern she might have about a visitor this late in the day. The sun sat on the horizon and darkness would soon fall.
She opened the door, her hair a bit disheveled, and stared at him as if surprised by his visit.
“I—I thought...” What had he thought? That she would be visibly grieving and would need his support?
“I wanted to ensure your lamps worked,” he quickly explained. “And that you had enough oil.”
Her gaze softened. “Thank you, William. I filled them this afternoon and tested them. The wicks burned, and the light was bright.”
“What about the woodstove? Do you have enough wood?”
“I have ample wood, thanks to your thoughtfulness earlier.”
“You will lock your doors?” He didn’t want to unduly frighten her, but they were some distance from town, and until he knew for sure, her attacker could still be on the loose.
She nodded. “A habit I started when I moved to Dahlonega. I’m not concerned about staying alone.”
Perhaps she should be.
“Remember what the sheriff said, Will. I feel confident the man in black is spending tonight and hopefully many nights in the future in custody.”
He hoped that was the case, but—
“Just be careful, Julianne.” He glanced around her into the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Don’t worry. That’s what you can do. I’m not the teenager who needed help five years ago.”
