by Marta Perry
Sarah took a deep, steadying breath, seeming to square her shoulders. It was a familiar gesture. She’d done that since childhood, whenever there was something challenging to be faced.
“What does it have to do with you? With us? They can’t believe you had anything to do with it. Why would you?”
“The man from the district attorney’s office suggested that maybe I found Gus setting the fire. That I fought with him and he died. He even said the law would understand that I killed him defending my property.”
“He doesn’t know anything about the Amish, if he thinks that. And he certain sure doesn’t know anything about you.”
Her staunch belief in him seemed to heal the ragged edges of Aaron’s spirit, battered by the obvious suspicion in the man’s questions.
“No, he doesn’t understand Amish ways. Maybe with his head he knows we’re nonviolent, but he doesn’t understand with his heart.” Aaron met her clear eyes, knowing he had to say the rest of it. “Fielding was even worse. He implied that I was angry because Hill had attacked you and tried to cast blame for the fires on my brother. He thought that a motive for murder.”
Sarah shook her head slowly. “It is crazy. Just...crazy. I don’t know how someone can think that way. But Mac believes in you, ain’t so?”
“I think so. But like I said, he has to follow the rules. He couldn’t keep them from questioning me. If they decide they have enough evidence against me, they could arrest me, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it.”
“Aaron...” Sudden tears filled her eyes. She clasped his hand in both of hers and drew it to her heart. “This can’t be happening. We must find a way out. We...”
He couldn’t stand it any longer. He pulled his hand away. “No.” He couldn’t help sounding harsh. He had to protect Sarah. She couldn’t be touched by this ugliness. He couldn’t fail her, not now. “Not you, Sarah. This is my problem, not yours.”
She just stood there with tears moving down her cheeks. “I care about you, Aaron. I can’t stand back and do nothing.”
“I won’t have you involved.” He took two quick strides to the door. “The burden is mine, not yours. Stay out of it.”
The pain in her face struck at his heart. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her close against him and never let her go.
But he couldn’t. He had already failed a woman he loved. He couldn’t let Sarah be hurt just when they’d begun to come together.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, and went blindly out the door.
* * *
SARAH SAGGED AGAINST the nearest shelf, pressing her palms to her face and feeling the hot tears well against them. Aaron was gone from her, as surely as he had been the day he’d married Mary Ann. If he couldn’t turn to her in this terrible situation, he never would.
She should have spoken. Should have made him listen. But she couldn’t.
The door opened slowly, and Allison peeked in. When she saw Sarah’s face, her own expression crumpled in empathy. “Oh, Sarah. I’m so sorry.” She came quickly to gather her into her arms. “Cry as much as you need to.”
Somehow being given permission to weep dried up her tears. She sniffed a bit, wiping her face with her palms. “I’m acting like a baby.”
“No, you’re not. It’s natural to cry when a man tramples on your heart. I was so sure Aaron cared.”
Sarah shook her head, fighting for composure. “It’s not...” She wasn’t sure which was more painful. “Aaron said that the police think he killed Gus.”
“Not Mac!” Her partner’s voice was sharp.
“Maybe not Mac, but he said Mac isn’t the only one involved. They actually questioned him—Fielding and some lawyer from the district attorney’s office. He could see they suspected him.”
Allison seemed to consider it carefully before shaking her head. “They don’t know Aaron. But you do. If you’re sure he couldn’t have done such a thing, then I’m sure, as well. And if I know Mac, he won’t rest until he knows the truth.”
Sarah tried to find comfort in the words. “He has to. From the sounds of it, the others would be content to blame Aaron without looking any further.” She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to make her brain work. “I don’t know where he’ll even start. Who would have killed Gus that way? And why at Aaron’s barn?”
Allison leaned back against the table, clearly turning it over in her mind. “We know Gus was the arsonist, right? But what if he wasn’t alone in it? What if he really was working for someone else?”
“That’s what I’ve started thinking. But if some company like that Evergreen Corporation does want the land, it’s hard to imagine them resorting to murder.”
“If they were willing to pay someone to burn barns, who knows what they might do.”
“I guess.” It seemed fanciful, but everything that had happened in the past month had been so unlikely that she was almost ready to believe anything.
Allison studied Sarah’s face for a moment. “But that’s not all that’s going on. You wouldn’t be crying because Aaron is a suspect. Angry or determined, maybe, but not tearful.”
Sarah rubbed her temples again. “I wanted to help him. Or at least to comfort him. But he pushed me away. He insisted I have nothing to do with him. He won’t let me be drawn into this because of him.”
“He wanted to protect you.”
“He wanted to push me away. And I let him.” A tidal wave of shame swept through her. “I let him. Give in, let go. That’s the Amish way, and I believe in it. But I think I use it to excuse my own timidity.” She turned on Allison. “You wouldn’t have let him walk away, would you?”
“Maybe not, but I wasn’t raised to give in to anything. And I don’t know that I would have succeeded. Men can be stubborn, especially when they think they’re doing something for your own good.”
Something in Allison’s tone caught her attention. “Are you talking about Nick?”
Her friend made a face. “I was trying to sympathize with you, but I guess I did veer into my own troubles for a minute. Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. What has Nick done? Don’t forget, I’ve known him since he was pulling my pigtails when I was three.” Thinking about Allison’s problem was a relief from dwelling on her own.
“He keeps saying I should take more time. That I shouldn’t rush into a commitment to being a wife and a stepmother. But I don’t want time. I know my own mind. Nick and Jamie are my life. I don’t want anything else.”
Sarah felt a moment of sympathy for Nick. He probably thought he was doing the right thing, knowing how different the life he could give her was from the life she’d known before she came here.
But he was wrong. Allison knew what she wanted.
“Don’t give up,” Sarah said firmly. “Nick can be stubborn, but he always listens to reason in the end. Just don’t you give up on him.”
Allison’s smile sparkled, and she squeezed Sarah’s hand. “As long as you promise the same. Don’t give up on Aaron. Don’t let him shut you out, no matter what he says.”
“At least you know...” She stopped as the bell over the shop door jingled.
“Customers always come at the worst time.” Allison turned to go. “I’ll deal with it. You don’t have to come out.”
“I’m fine.” She brushed her fingertips over her eyelids, hoping they weren’t too red. “I’ll come.”
They walked back into the shop to find Harvey Preston standing by the door, looking around with a rather helpless expression at the bolts of cloth.
“How can I help you, Harvey?” Allison went toward him with her usual assurance. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for some fabric?”
He gave his usual hearty chuckle at that, his face wreathed in smiles. “Afraid not, though I might have to do my Christmas shopping at this quilt fest
ival you ladies are cooking up.”
“You just let me know what you’re looking for, and I’ll put it aside for you,” Allison responded, never one to let a sale slip away.
“I’ll do that.” He focused on Sarah. “I really stopped by to see how Sarah is. That fire last night was a terrible thing. I can’t imagine how you felt, seeing your neighbor’s barn on fire.”
“It’s good of you to be concerned.” She managed a polite smile somehow. “Only the corner of the barn was destroyed, so they will be able to rebuild it soon. Everyone is pitching in to help.”
“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.” Harvey shook his head, looking for a moment like a mournful bulldog. “Terrible business, the whole thing. I’ve never had much respect for Gus Hill, but I couldn’t imagine him being a firebug. And there was poor Julia Everly, trusting the good-for-nothing.”
“I don’t think she’ll be too upset,” Allison said, relieving Sarah of the necessity of continuing the conversation. “Julia’s a realist. Takes people as she finds them, even if...”
Sarah shot her a sharp glance, afraid she was going to blurt out something about Donna.
Allison blinked. “Anyway, I don’t expect her to be cut up about Gus Hill.”
“Good, good.” Harvey looked to be at a loss. “Well, people will be relieved that the arson has come to an end. It was bad for business. Who’d want to buy a property when it might be set on fire the next night?”
“I’m sure that’s a relief to you.” Allison’s tone was dry.
Harvey seemed taken aback, maybe wondering if that was an insult.
“We’ve certainly had plenty of customers today,” she said hurriedly. “I hope business picks up for you.”
“Oh, things are going fine. Busy, actually. People who are planning a move want to get settled before school starts.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. If he was so busy, why was he lingering here, talking about nothing?
Harvey cleared his throat. “I’ve heard some gossip that Aaron King was involved in Gus Hill’s death. I’m sure it’s nonsense, but—”
“It is,” Sarah snapped. “Aaron had nothing to do with it. In fact, it was Aaron who pulled him out of the flames.” Pressure built in her, so that she imagined it exploding out, searing everything in sight. She clamped her lips closed, holding on by a thread.
“That’s what I thought.” Harvey took a step back. Maybe he sensed danger. “And I’ll say so to anyone who brings it up to me. Aaron’s a fine young man. I still feel bad about that mix-up over the Gibson farm. If only Matt Gibson had told me about it, that could have been avoided entirely.”
Sarah didn’t trust herself to speak. Fortunately Allison seemed to sense it.
“We’ll let you get back to business, Harvey. Thanks for stopping by.”
“Right, yes.” He nodded to them and headed for the door. “Don’t forget to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help the King family.”
“Pompous,” Allison muttered when the door closed behind him.
He was, Sarah supposed, but that wasn’t what concerned her at the moment. If Harvey Preston was repeating the gossip linking Aaron to Gus Hill’s death, it must be widespread. Aaron had been right about one thing—this was like being trapped in a nightmare, seeing something terrifying coming toward you and being unable to move.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LISTENING TO ALLISON on the telephone as she negotiated with the dealer in possession of Julia’s album quilt, Sarah found her partner’s crisp tones an antidote to her own depression. No one would know that Allison had a care for anything other than business. Surely Sarah could manage to emulate her for the rest of the afternoon, at least.
“That’s ridiculous.” Allison cut into the apparent complaints of the dealer. “You’re in possession of a stolen article of value. If this business goes to the police, the quilt will be impounded, you’ll get nothing and you might very well be charged with receiving stolen property.” She grinned at Sarah as she said the final words, indicating she had no idea whether that was true or not.
Allison listened for a moment, and Sarah could hear a whining sound coming from the receiver.
“My client is willing to pay you exactly what you paid for the quilt and not a cent more.” Her voice was crisp. “If it’s delivered here tomorrow in good condition, we’ll add on a consideration for your time and travel. Agreed?”
Apparently he succumbed to the force of her words—or maybe just her determination. After a few directions, Allison hung up the shop phone and smiled.
“All right! Tell Julia she’ll have her quilt back tomorrow. You’ll probably want to discuss with her any necessary cleaning and repair work, but if it’s as good as you say, it’ll definitely be a draw for quilt lovers at the festival.”
“I’ll tell her. At least it will be some good news for her.” Sarah paused at the door. “Are you sure you can manage on your own?”
“Go.” Allison waved her away. “I can deal with the gossips better than you can. What is the word your mother uses for them?”
“Blabbermauls.” She had a quick vision of sophisticated Allison accusing nosy visitors of being blabbermauls. “It means...well, gossips, I guess comes closest.”
“Good. I like that word—very descriptive. Give Julia my love.”
Sarah was relieved to get outside into the warm summer air. She’d begun to feel hemmed in at the shop, as if she were unable to escape the worries and fears that beset her, to say nothing of the curious who kept wandering in. At least once she reached Main Street she could keep moving away from any stares.
And there were a few, she realized as she passed the storefronts in the few larger buildings in Laurel Ridge, then a number of shops and services housed in what had once been private homes. No new buildings had gone up on Main Street in her memory, although businesses had moved in and out of the available storefronts.
She’d always enjoyed her time in town, but the number of curious glances she was receiving made her long for the security of the farm. Still, the brisk walk made it easier not to dwell on Aaron and what might have been.
When she turned onto Julia’s street she quickened her pace. She should have come earlier, but she’d wanted to be sure she had control of her emotions before venturing out. Julia must be wondering why someone hadn’t come to talk to her about Gus.
No one came in answer to her knock at the door, but Sarah could hear Julia’s shouted, “Come in.” The door was unlocked, so she followed orders.
“Is no one here with you?” She went quickly through the hall into the living room. “I thought you had someone to help you.”
“She came this morning.” Julia stifled a yawn. “Don’t fuss. She’ll be back again for a couple of hours this evening. That’s really all I need for now. And next week I get this thing off.” She tapped the cast with her knuckles.
“That’s wonderful news. You’ll feel like a new woman without that holding you down.”
Julia nodded with something of her usual assurance. “The doctor keeps muttering about taking it slow and going to physical therapy, but at least I’ll be able to get out of the house.”
“That will cheer you up. And here’s some more happy news. We should have your album quilt for you tomorrow. Allison flatly refused to pay the dealer anything more than he paid for it. You should have heard her.”
“Great, great.” Julia yawned again. “Sorry about yawning. What I really need is some fresh air.”
“Would you like me to help you out onto the porch for a bit?” Sarah felt as if she were postponing the moment she had to talk about Gus Hill. Even thinking the name brought back the image of the men dragging a body from the burning barn.
“Not now.” Julia gave her a stern look. “We’d better not put it off. Is it true? Was Gus
the firebug?”
Sarah hitched her chair a bit closer. “I’m afraid so. Mac said they found all the things he used to start the fires hidden at the cottage. And he was starting a fire in Aaron’s barn when...” She let that trail off.
“When he died. You don’t need to find a way to soften it. I know he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry. I know you had a soft spot for Gus because of his friendship with your husband.”
“You don’t need to worry that I’m going to burst into tears.” Julia’s tone had regained its tartness. She ran a hand through her short gray hair, making it stand on end. “Wish I could think better. I’ve felt like my brain is stuffed with mush lately.”
“That’s surely natural enough after a bad accident. And most likely the doctor has given you some medication for pain that will make it worse.” It was the first time Julia had given a hint that Donna’s comments about her memory might be true, and Sarah’s throat tightened as she stroked the woman’s arm soothingly. “You’ll feel much better once you can be out and about again.”
Julia frowned, seeming to force herself to concentrate. “When you get to be my age, you’ve already lost a lot of people from your life. Maybe it doesn’t come as hard. Anyway, I never had many illusions about Gus. I wouldn’t put petty thievery out of the question for him, but to go around torching people’s barns...” Her hands moved against the heavy cast. “It doesn’t make sense, not if there was nothing in it for him.” She shot a sudden sharp look at Sarah. “Is that it? Was someone paying him to do it?”
“I don’t know.” She was just as glad she didn’t. If Gus had been up to something criminal, the police could surely explain it better than she could. “Mac is looking into it. I’m sure he’ll let you know what he finds.”
Her thoughts slipped to Aaron. If Julia asked about Gus’s death, she’d have to answer honestly, but she hoped she wouldn’t ask.
