by Amy Lillard
“I’ve seen her work.” Kappy nodded. “She’s good.”
“That was my suggestion.” Jimmy jerked a thumb proudly toward his chest.
Edie smiled. “Aren’t you the businessman all of a sudden.”
“One more reason to keep the puppies,” Jimmy countered.
“You’re still thinking about selling off the puppies?” Kappy had thought Edie was happy taking up her mother’s breeding business. As far as she knew this matter had been settled long ago.
“Jimmy, go get your coat.”
“I don’t have a coat, Edie. It’s summertime.”
“Edie,” Kappy said.
“Well, get your lunch box.”
“I didn’t—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Edie tossed her hands into the air. “I only said I was thinking about it.”
“But why?” Jimmy and Kappy asked at the same time. Yet Kappy was afraid she knew. Edie was still thinking about returning to her life outside of Blue Sky. And where would that leave Jimmy?
“They’re a lot of work,” Edie admitted.
“But I do most of the feedings.”
“I mean the books and the registrations. And the shots. Let me tell you, the vet isn’t very happy with me after this deal with Mamm.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have questioned him so blatantly about the murder,” Kappy mused.
“Blatant?” Edie asked.
“It’s on today’s word-a-day calendar.”
“I see,” she replied.
Jimmy bounced up and down on his toes, a sure sign he was getting anxious. “But I love the puppies.”
“Even though you have to give them up?” his sister asked.
“That’s the best part,” Jimmy said. “I always get to have a puppy. As long as we have a litter.”
“I suppose,” Edie muttered.
“I’ll come help you,” Kappy said. She gave a fierce nod, not realizing until that moment that she couldn’t let Edie leave Blue Sky. If not for Jimmy’s sake, then definitely for her own. Edie was the one person who fit in less than she did. They were made to be friends, and she couldn’t allow her best friend to leave without a fight.
“You have your own business to run.”
“What if I bring Jimmy to the bait shop on the days he works? That will give you more time. Or you could let Jimmy drive himself.”
“Yes.” Jimmy gave a quick fist pump.
Mel rolled his eyes.
Kappy felt Jimmy was fully capable. After all, he had driven to her house and painted her front door not so long ago. But it seemed that Edie was picking up the role of overprotective mother right where Ruth Peachey left off.
“I just said I was thinking about it,” Edie groused. “No one needs to get their drawers in a wad.”
“Just don’t make a decision yet,” Kappy pleaded.
Jimmy moved behind her, nodding the whole time. “Please.” He clasped his hands together as if in prayer.
“Fine,” Edie exhaled, then turned and headed out to the carriage.
* * *
“You’re not really thinking about selling all the puppies, are you?” Jimmy asked on the way home.
He might have actually voiced the question, but it was on Kappy’s mind as well.
“I don’t know,” Edie mumbled, her voice sounding like she had no energy left at all.
“Why do I feel this has less to do with dogs and more to do with something else?” Kappy leaned close when she asked, hoping that Jimmy wouldn’t overhear.
Edie shrugged one shoulder. “I dunno.”
“You don’t know, or you’re not ready to talk about it?”
“Both.”
Kappy straightened and shook her head. Something was definitely up with Edie, but as to what was anyone’s guess.
“I don’t belong here,” she finally said.
“What?” Jimmy screeched. “Of course you belong here. This is your home. It always has been.”
“Something happen?” Kappy asked from the corner of her mouth.
Jimmy continued to extol the benefits of Blue Sky and its many Plain residents.
Extol. That was another from her word-a-day calendar. It meant to praise enthusiastically, and that was exactly what Jimmy was doing. But the more he talked, the more miserable Edie looked.
“Tell me,” Kappy demanded.
Edie let out a frustrated growl. “Did you see how Mel treated me? He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“He’s a fifteen-year-old boy,” Kappy pointed out. “He’s supposed to be that way.”
Edie shook her head. “No. I don’t believe that. He was shunning me hardcore.”
Kappy wasn’t sure exactly what hardcore was. It hadn’t been on her calendar. Would it be two words? She mentally shook the thought away. Whatever it meant, she got the gist. “You are under the Bann.” She said the words as apologetically as possible, but she knew they carried a sting.
“That’s just it!” she cried.
“What’s just it?” Kappy asked. Somewhere along the way she had lost the thread of this conversation.
“Never mind.” Edie blew out a breath, lifting her bangs off her forehead in the process.
“If you don’t like being under the Bann you could always rejoin the church.”
“Jah, Edie, that would be great.” Jimmy gave her a toothy grin.
“I am not rejoining the church.”
Jimmy fell back in his seat, his expression crestfallen.
That was when Kappy understood: Leaving the Amish had been difficult, but for Edie Peachey, returning was twice as hard.
“You could, though, right?” Jimmy asked.
Edie sighed. “I guess so.” But her heart wasn’t in it. Kappy could tell. How terrible to not belong in either world.
Kappy didn’t exactly fit in with the normal crowd, so to speak. But she knew where she belonged. God had made her Amish for a reason.
So why had God laid it on Edie’s heart to leave? Or was it as the bishop said and thoughts of a better life outside the district were the devil’s handiwork?
She cast a quick sideways look at Edie.
No. That wasn’t it at all. But she surely didn’t understand it herself.
“It’s not a decision that you have to make right away,” Kappy murmured.
Edie swallowed hard and gave a quick nod.
“You have Jimmy to think about, too, you know.”
“What about me?” He pushed himself forward in his seat and stuck his head between theirs.
“Nothing,” they said at the same time.
Then they burst out laughing, the tense moment gone so quick Kappy had to wonder if it had even happened.
“Did you bring me a piece of funeral pie?” Jimmy asked as they continued along.
“No,” Edie said without explanation. “But I can make you one. I found Mamm’s recipe book last week.”
Jimmy made a face. “Isn’t that bad luck? To eat funeral pie that didn’t come from a funeral?”
“It’s just raisin pie,” Edie said.
Jimmy shook his head. “No,” he adamantly stated. “It has to be bad luck.”
Kappy couldn’t help but slow down. They were in the spot where Sally June’s buggy went off the road. There were a few tire marks and a streak of yellow on the asphalt, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary to signify that someone had died there on that very spot.
The thought sent chills down her spine. Or maybe it was all this talk about funeral pie.
“Is this . . . ?” Edie asked, not finishing the question.
Kappy nodded and kept the horse at a steady pace.
A car went around them, and Kappy instinctively closed her eyes, fearing the worst.
Edie’s talk of vulnerability had her jumpier than a jackrabbit.
But the car continued forward just as the buggy did, only faster.
Kappy breathed a sigh of relief when she turned onto School Yard Road. A few more minutes and they would be ho
me. Safe.
“Who is that?” Edie asked as they pulled into Kappy’s drive.
The man on her front porch stood, and she immediately recognized him, her neighbor, Ephraim Jess, one of the oldest men in the district. Ephraim was tall and lanky, a bit stooped in the shoulders, with craggy features like the rock that made up Jacks Mountain.
“Kathryn King,” he called as she hopped down from the buggy.
Kappy stole a look at Edie. Her eyes were wide. No one called Kappy Kathryn except for Martha Peachey, the older woman who lived on the other side of Jimmy and Edie. No relation that anyone could remember.
“Uh-oh,” Edie whispered.
“What brings you over today, Ephraim?”
He hobbled down the porch steps, meeting her halfway between the house and buggy. “There’s a murderer running loose, and I want to know what you’re doing about it.”
Chapter 4
Kappy looked at Edie. Edie looked at Kappy. They both looked to Ephraim.
“What?” Edie was the one who broke the intense silence.
“There’s a murderer running around,” he patiently repeated. “And I want to know what you are going to do about it.”
“I—uh . . .” Kappy wasn’t sure how that sentence should end. Or begin. “Ephraim, that’s a strong accusation.”
“Are you saying you’re not going to take responsibility for your ill-mannered pup?”
Pup? “Are you talking about Elmer?”
Ephraim flicked a hand in her direction as if the details were not important. “I don’t know what you call him. But he’s a killer. I lost three chickens this morning.”
“There are plenty of birds and squirrels here in Kappy’s yard,” Edie said. “Why would he run all the way to your house to chase other animals?”
Ephraim raised his gaze, but to Kappy it looked as though he were staring through Edie instead of at her. “Kappy, you must do something.”
Edie let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-growl. She still hadn’t gotten used to being shunned. Kappy supposed it had to be a little like arriving at a party where everyone ignored you.
Kappy shot her a quick, sympathetic look, then turned her attention back to Ephraim. “I’ll bring by some chickens in the morning,” she promised.
“Chickens?” Ephraim shook his head. “You think this is about chickens?”
“I . . . well, it seems . . . That is . . .”
Jimmy picked that moment to get out of the buggy.
“Hang on, Jimmy,” Edie called to him.
But he kept coming. “We could build a fence,” he said, that adoring grin on his face. He was so proud of himself for finding a solution.
“Kappy already has a fence,” Edie said gently.
Jimmy shook his head. “Not a fence-fence, but one like we have for the puppies. They never get out.”
Except for that one time, but they’d had a little help.
“Thanks, Jimmy.” Kappy reached out a hand toward him, then dropped it back to her side before actually touching him. Still, the thought was there.
Ephraim looked off into the distance, then spat.
Edie shuddered.
Kappy hid her smile. It wasn’t really funny, and yet it was.
“I don’t think you’ll do it,” Ephraim said.
“Build a better fence?” Kappy asked.
“Jah.”
“I’ll build the fence,” Kappy promised. “And I’ll bring three chickens by in the morning as well.”
Ephraim stared at her a moment, then spat again. “Better make it five.”
“That’s blackmail,” Edie screeched once Ephraim was heading back to his own house and well out of hearing distance. Not that he would have acknowledged her words.
“Maybe,” Kappy said absently. “But I’m still taking him five chickens.”
“Does that mean we’re not building the fence?” Jimmy asked, his expression falling.
“Of course not,” Kappy and Edie said at the same time.
“But chickens first,” Kappy added.
* * *
“Are you saying we’re loony tunes?” Edie asked.
Kappy shook her head. “I don’t know what that is, but if it means that we’ve started seeing problems where there are none, then yes. We’re lonely tunes.”
“Loony,” Edie corrected. “Loony tunes. Not—never mind.” Edie braced one elbow on the table and propped her chin in her hand. “There’s something weird happening in Blue Sky.”
“Only in our imaginations.”
“We didn’t dream it up last time.”
Kappy nodded and set two glasses of water on the table. The third glass, the one for Jimmy, she left on the counter. He had gone out back to play with Elmer, but Kappy suspected that he was secretly measuring the existing fence for improvements.
After Ephraim had left, Kappy and Edie had headed inside for a drink. It wasn’t hot outside, but it was warm enough. And considering the morning they’d had . . .
“Fine.” Edie grabbed her glass and gulped half of it down in one swift swallow. Kappy wondered if she wished it were something stronger. But she hadn’t had anything stronger than liqueur in the house since her aunt, Hettie, died, and then it was only for special occasions. Kappy had inherited the house from Hettie, who had raised her after the terrible buggy accident that killed her mother, her father, and her two brothers. Hettie might have been a little bit odd, but she had values. Drinking alcohol was not among them. Plus, alcohol had never been known to solve even one single problem.
I thought you said there wasn’t a problem.
Kappy pushed that voice away and sat down across from her best friend.
Strange, but up until Edie Peachey had returned to Blue Sky, Pennsylvania, Kappy had never had many friends.
But that didn’t mean they agreed on everything. “Why didn’t you tell Jack about the text you received?”
Edie gave a quick little shrug. “There really wasn’t anything to show, now was there?”
“You seemed to think there was.”
“If I had told him about the text, he would have taken my phone. I don’t have the money to buy a new one.”
Kappy studied her expression. But she couldn’t see any deceit. “And that’s all?”
“Yes. Maybe.”
“Edie!”
“I know. I know. I get it. But it’s so unbelievably boring here.”
Kappy tilted her head to one side. “I thought you had adjusted to being back.”
Edie made a motion with her head and shoulders that could have been considered a shrug.
“No?”
“Everything’s changed.”
Kappy frowned at her. “Of course it has. You didn’t expect to come back and have everything the same. Did you?”
“Did you know that Jacob Detweiler got married?”
“How did you find that out? Did someone tell you at the funeral today?”
“Did you know?” Edie asked again.
“Of course, I knew. I live here, jah?”
Edie nodded a bit sadly. “Jah.”
Kappy wanted to remind her that life had gone on after she left, but there was no sense rubbing salt in old wounds. Jacob and Edie had been quite a couple way back when, before Edie decided that Englisch life held more appeal.
“Just because you’re bored doesn’t mean you can go around looking for things to be trouble.”
Edie frowned. “How weird is it that I actually understand that?”
Kappy propped one hand on her hip. “Stop trying to change the subject.”
“What about you? You thought the same thing I did.”
“I admit that I may have let my imagination run away with me, but now I’ve thought about it more, and I realize that nothing strange is going on here.”
“Except for us.”
Kappy grinned. “You said it, not me.”
The front door opened, and Jimmy poked his head inside. “Kappy! Hiram is here.”
Edie
was on her feet in an instant. “I’m gone.” She was out the door in a flash. “C’mon, Jimmy. It’s time to feed the dogs.” Before she could protest, Edie motioned Jimmy to walk through the house and together they disappeared out the back door.
Kappy started toward the front door, which Edie had left open. Hiram came in with Elmer at his heels. “Hi, Kappy.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Hiram.”
“I just wanted to . . . uh, come by and talk to you.”
She gave him a small smile. She didn’t want to be too encouraging. After all, she hadn’t made up her mind yet. Well, she almost had. He had yet to convince her that he could love her as much as he had loved his first wife, Laverna.
Just the thought made her feel selfish. Hiram was a good man, and he deserved a good wife. But she hadn’t convinced herself that was where she needed to be.
“We just talked a couple of hours ago.”
He nodded. “Jah. I know. But I wanted to talk about . . . other things.”
“And not . . . Willie?” Willie was a safe topic.
“Mamm wanted me to invite you out to supper tonight.”
She was shaking her head before he even finished. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“My family will be there.”
And your mamm doesn’t think I’m right for you. The last thing she wanted was to hear the virtues of Hiram all laid out to make her feel useless. Or unworthy.
But the problems with their relationship had deeper roots.
Kappy had been best friends with Hiram’s wife, right up until her death. If Kappy was being honest with herself, she’d had feelings for Hiram as long as she could remember. But she knew he was still in love with Laverna. As selfish as it seemed, she wanted more than a second-place love. They both deserved more.
“No. Danki.”
“Will you come sit on the porch with me?”
She nodded despite herself. She was supposed to be thinking about the two of them and if their relationship deserved another chance, but instead all she had been thinking about was an imagined crime. But it was easier not to give Hiram a second thought when she hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks.
She followed him onto the porch, Elmer bouncing around her ankles. The beagle puppy crouched on the planks, waiting for what was next.
Hiram settled down on the porch bench and patted the seat next to him.
Kappy eased in, careful not to let her skirt brush against him as she did so. She wouldn’t want him to get any ideas.
