by Nancy Mehl
“Sweetie, that’s enough.”
Since Sam rarely raised his voice, especially to his aunt, Sweetie’s jaw dropped and she stared openmouthed at her nephew.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyebrows knit together in displeasure, “but you’ve had something bad to say about every single person who’s been mentioned at this table tonight. Two weeks ago after church, you asked me to tell you if you were being too critical, remember? Well, I’m doing that now.”
Sweetie studied the tablecloth for a moment. Then she nodded. “You’re right, Sam. I’m sorry.”
Hearing that Sweetie wanted to change her disparaging comments toward others was my first shock. The second was hearing her apologize.
Sam smiled at her and winked at me, but his joy was short-lived.
“But Rand really is a snake in the grass,” Sweetie said in a low voice. “Have you seen the way he treats his family?”
The smile slid from Sam’s face. He started to say something but apparently changed his mind. Finally, he let out a deep sigh. “Look, let’s not roast anyone else over the coals tonight. But the truth is, Rand really is hard to like.” He looked at me quizzically. “You’ve met his daughter, Jessica, right?”
“I hadn’t realized he was her father. Yes, I’ve met her. I must say she doesn’t seem like a very happy girl. She’s good friends with Hannah Mueller.”
Sweetie geared herself up to say something else, but a quick look from Sam made her clamp her jaw shut. Time to steer the conversation in yet another direction. I was beginning to feel like a cop directing traffic.
“You mentioned Gabe and Sarah. How are they doing? When I was here last, things were moving pretty slow.”
“They’ve been busy,” Sam said. “Sarah is selling her stationery in the new shop as well as at Ruth’s. Gabe is getting the hang of candle making. It was touch and go there for a while, but he seems to be doing okay now.”
Sweetie snorted. “Don’t know what some of them scents was, but boy, they stank to high heaven.”
Sam laughed. “Yeah, I think Gabe got a little carried away with new kinds of candles. His creativity left a lot to be desired. He might enjoy the smell of hay, but somehow it doesn’t translate well in a candle. Smelled like…like…”
“Don’t need to finish that sentence, boy,” Sweetie said with a grin. “I think Gracie gets the idea.”
I took a sip of coffee and leaned back in my chair. Sweetie’s great dinner and the long ride home had made me really sleepy. I was ready to go home and climb into bed. I’d sold most of my furniture during a previous trip to Wichita and spent the last two and a half months in a sleeping bag on the floor of my apartment. Snuggling under the quilts on a nice, soft bed sounded like heaven.
“Did they finally come up with a name for their store?” I asked.
Sweetie smirked. “Yep, they sure did. Ketterlings’ Candles and Notions. Lots of imagination, huh?”
“I like it. It’s simple but appealing.”
“Sweetie’s suggestion was Wick It Ways,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Great name for a business owned by an Old Order Mennonite family, huh?”
“Gabe Ketterling has a sense of humor, you know,” his aunt said, bristling.
“Yeah. You should have seen the look on his face when Sweetie suggested it.” Sam guffawed. “You’d think someone had painted racing stripes on his buggy. Funniest thing I ever saw.”
Sweetie stood to her feet and started gathering the dishes. “You’re gettin’ a little big for those britches of yours, ain’t ya, boy? How ‘bout I skip cuttin’ you a piece of my coconut cream pie?”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Never mind. I take it all back.”
“I thought you might.” Sweetie looked my way. “How about a piece for you, Gracie girl?”
“I’ll take a rain check,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much longer. Think I’ll head home.”
“Your eyes been tryin’ to close all night,” she said. “You go on home and sleep till you feel rested up. There’ll be time for pie tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Sam said. “The heat’s on over there, and we put some food in your fridge.”
“You’re too good to me.”
He grinned. “That’s probably true.”
“Don’t you forgit that blame cat of yours,” Sweetie interjected. “I don’t want that varmint gettin’ into my kitchen.” She glared down at poor Snickle, who patted her sneaker with his fluffy paw.
I went over and scooped him up. Then I planted a kiss on Sweetie’s cheek. “I happen to know that your bark is worse than your bite. If Sam and I weren’t in the room, you’d be cuddling with this darling little kitty.”
Sweetie’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping its last breath, but no words came out.
I slid Snickle into his carrier and followed Sam to the front door, leaving his aunt still trying to find the words to defend herself. When we stepped out onto the porch, we were greeted with barks of joy from Sam’s small dog, Buddy. Part Jack Russell and part rat terrier, he wore a constant smile and acted as if every moment of his existence was nothing but pure joy. I set the carrier down and knelt next to the excited little animal.
“I missed you so much, Buddy.” He licked my face and nuzzled up against me. A plaintive meow from Snickle redirected Buddy’s attention. My cat, who’d hissed at every dog he’d ever seen, had fallen in love with Buddy. Anytime they were together, they played like two siblings.
“You and Snickle can get together soon,” I said, scratching the small dog’s head.
Sam took the carrier and loaded it into the backseat of my car. “Goodness,” he said, gazing at the interior. “This thing needs a good cleaning.”
The floor of the backseat was full of cat toys, snacks, water bottles, and maps. “You try driving back and forth from Harmony to Wichita every couple of months. I started leaving things in the car I’d need for the next trip.”
Sam grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. “Throw it all away, Grace. No more trips. No more being apart.”
He kissed me soundly.
“Now this I could get used to.”
He laughed. “You’d better. It’ll be happening a lot.”
With his promise ringing in my head, I started to get into my car. Suddenly the face of Pat Taylor popped up in front of me. I stopped and called out to Sam. “Will you take a look at my taillight? I should probably get it fixed right away. I certainly don’t want Sheriff Taylor tracking me down. I think he plans to throw me into the slammer the next time any part of my car malfunctions.”
Sam walked around to the back of the car. “It’s not broken,” he called out. “Start your engine and turn on your lights.”
I slid behind the wheel and put my key into the ignition. After the engine turned over, I clicked my lights on. Then I stuck my head out the door. “What’s going on?” I yelled back to Sam.
“Step on the brake,” he hollered.
I put my foot on and off the brake several times.
“Okay, that’s enough.” He came around the side of the car and leaned into my window. “It’s working now,” he said with a frown. “Maybe there’s a short in it somewhere. I’ll look at it again sometime in the next few days.”
“Thanks. And thanks for putting honest-to-goodness heat in my house. Man, I’m freezing. Sure glad I don’t have to warm the house up with that old cast-iron stove of my uncle’s. It would take forever.”
Sam kissed me on the nose. “As long as everything’s working, you should be fine. Why don’t you call me in the morning when you get up? I don’t want to wake you.”
“Sounds great. I feel like I could sleep for at least a week.”
He kissed me once more before I drove out onto the dirt road that led to my house. My house. I still wasn’t used to it. Funny how putting your future in God’s hands can take you down paths you couldn’t have found on your own. I’d never aspired to live in any small town�
�especially one like Harmony, Kansas. Founded by German Mennonites in the 1800s, it was an enigma—a town that shouldn’t exist in today’s modern world. But it does. Strolling down its streets is like being inside a Norman Rockwell painting. Every time I come home to Harmony, it’s as if I’ve crossed the border into a place of safety—a place where evil can’t come. Or at least, where it can’t stay. Evil has visited this town—but it hasn’t made its home here. Harmony has a way of finding it and rooting it out. I firmly believe the prayers and faith of the unique people who live here have made this a very, very special spot.
As my house came into sight, I thought about my neighbor Ida Turnbauer. Ida lives about a quarter of a mile down the road from me. I wanted to stop by and say hello, but it was late and she usually turned in early. I’d call her in the morning. I laughed remembering how funny she was when she first got a phone. Raised Old Order Mennonite, she’d never used one until a few months ago. At first she couldn’t get the hang of it and kept hanging up on people when they called.
I turned into my dirt driveway and pulled up next to the house. Sam had installed lights in the yard and on the porch. Being out in the country and not having streetlamps means it gets incredibly dark on nights when there’s no moon or it’s hidden behind thick clouds.
My once stark white house had been painted a pale yellow. Cream-colored shutters adorned the front windows. The white wooden rocking chair my uncle made sat on the porch, waiting for spring.
I’d started to turn off my car lights when I thought again about my taillight. Odd. I felt certain it was working when I left Wichita, and Sam hadn’t found anything wrong. Maybe there really was a short in the electrical system. Still, for some reason my run-in with Sheriff Taylor made me feel uncomfortable. Did he really stop me because of my taillight, or was it something else?
With a sigh, I scolded myself for being ridiculous and turned off the engine. Then I grabbed Snickle and one of my bags from the backseat and headed toward the house, grateful for the lights and warmth that awaited me. I put my bag and the pet carrier down on the front porch, found my key, and opened the door. As soon as we stepped inside, Snickle began meowing. He knew he was home and wanted out. I opened the door of the carrier, and he took off for the kitchen as I followed behind him. A can of cat food and a bowl of water would go a long way toward calming my travel-wearied feline.
I’d just reached for the light switch when something outside the kitchen window caught my attention. A light moving in the darkness. I crept cautiously up to the glass and pulled the curtain all the way to the side. Someone with a flashlight was skulking around in the trees behind my house.
Chapter Three
I can’t find anything, Grace. I’ve gone over the whole area—from your back door to the lake.”
“Well, someone most certainly was out there. It’s almost ten o’clock. Why would anyone be prowling around in the dark like that?”
Sam sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. We both watched the row of trees that lined the back of my property. Nothing stirred.
“Maybe it was the reflection of the kitchen light on the glass,” he said helpfully. “It could easily look like a flashlight.”
I crossed my arms and scowled at him. “Well, that might be a possibility, except that the kitchen light wasn’t on.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to stop him before he headed a direction he shouldn’t go. “And no, there wasn’t any light on in the living room that could have shone on the window. I already checked that out.”
He shook his head and didn’t respond.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” I hated the petulant tone in my voice, but Sam’s attitude left me feeling slightly defensive. I’d looked forward to finally coming home, but having a run-in with Morris County’s sheriff and discovering an abandoned baby had already left me shaken. Seeing someone lurking in the dark behind my house was the cherry on top of an already disturbing sundae.
“Of course I believe you, Grace,” Sam said in clipped tones. “I was just trying to offer alternative explanations to what you saw. If you tell me someone was out there, then that’s good enough for me. I just can’t figure out who would be hanging around outside in twenty-degree weather. Sometimes kids like to run around near the lake, and since Jacob’s body was dug up last spring, quite a few people have come by to get a glimpse of the spot. But that’s during the day, not at night when you can’t see your hand in front of your face. And as far as this being kids, you know what Harmony’s like. I’m sure by this time of night everyone’s children are accounted for and in bed. No one has a reason to be out there for any…any…”
“Disreputable reason?”
Sam ducked his head for a moment. I suspected it was to hide a grin, but I didn’t find the situation the least bit funny. His inability to take me seriously made me angry. When he looked up, his expression was composed. “Yes, disreputable reason. What would anyone want behind your house this late and in these temperatures?”
“I have no idea, but I know what I saw. Tomorrow when it’s light, I’m going to look around.”
Sam stood up. “I searched all through there once, Grace. But if you feel it’s important to go over the area again, why don’t you call me first and we’ll do it together?”
I frowned at him. “You don’t think there’s anything to this, so I’ll check it out myself, thank you.”
Sam came over and wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling my neck. Goose bumps crawled down from my scalp and broke out all over my body.
“Okay, maybe I’ll wait for you after all,” I said, my voice husky.
He lifted my face with his hand and looked in my eyes. His stormy eyes seemed to peer into my soul. His gentle kiss gave me double goose bumps. If he didn’t leave soon, I was going to be one big, strange-looking lump.
“If I don’t get out of here, people will think there’s a disreputable reason for my visit,” he said when he finished kissing me.
“You–you’d better take off.” I gently pushed him away. “We’ll take this up again tomorrow.”
“The person with the flashlight or the kissing?”
I smiled up at him. “Both.” I reached out and took his hand. “Sam, I’m sorry I’ve been so snarky. I’m just ready for my life to be peaceful—without all the drama of the past several months. Then I come home and find someone creeping around outside. Forgive me.”
He let go of my hand and grabbed his coat from the back of the kitchen chair. “Don’t worry about it. I understand, and believe me, I’d feel exactly the same way.” He studied me for a moment. “You know you can come back to my house if you’d feel safer.”
I’d taken up residence in his home for a while when it appeared someone in Harmony meant to harm me. Sweetie’s impeccable restoration to the home’s original Victorian glory had produced an incredible interior as well as an eye-catching exterior. You’d never know she had the talent to design and furnish a house by just looking at her. She’s eternally dressed in old, ratty overalls from her homeless haute couture collection. I almost said yes to Sam’s proposal just so I could snuggle into my favorite bedroom. Decorated with purples and reds, it’s one of the most beautiful rooms I’ve ever seen. I’d loved every moment I’d spent in it. But I finally had my own house, and I had no intention of allowing anyone to chase me out.
“Thanks, but I’ll stay here,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. And now that I actually have a phone, I can call you if I need help.”
He chuckled. “Remember when we had to use walkie-talkies to communicate with each other? Seems like a lifetime ago.”
I shook my head. “To you maybe, but not to me. I still thank God every time I walk past that beautiful telephone.”
“Well, I’d better get back before Sweetie comes looking for me. You call me if you see anything else, Grace. Do you want me to take one more quick look before I go?”
“Oh, would you? I’d feel so much better.�
��
He smiled. “Sure. If I see any cause for concern, I’ll come back to the house. If not, I’ll just head on home, okay? And we’ll still take another look in the morning when it’s light if that will make you feel better.”
I grabbed his arm. “Yes, it would. Thank you, Sam. I want to enjoy this house without feeling like someone’s out to get me. There’s been enough of that.”
He nodded slowly, his expression grave. “I’m sorry. I should have been more understanding.” He started toward the front door but turned back before putting his hand on the knob. “I know you’re tired and want to sleep late and putter around in the morning, but why don’t we go to lunch at the café? Mary’s been asking about you, and I know there are other people who would like to say hello.”
“I’d love to. Mary sent me the sweetest note before I left Wichita. Believe it or not, I think your ex-girlfriend and I are going to be great friends.”
He brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “I’m glad. She’s been pretty nice to me lately. It didn’t happen overnight, but I don’t get a knot in my stomach anymore when I see her.”
I laughed. “That’s a huge improvement over a few months ago. Why don’t you come by around noon, and we’ll drive into town together? I’ll probably run over and visit with Ida first, so if I’m not home when you get here, check for me over there.”
After assuring me he would, he left. I went back to the kitchen and sat in the dark, gazing out the window. True to his word, he headed out toward the trees once again with his flashlight. The moon was only a sliver tonight and clouds passed quickly in front of it, plunging us into inky blackness. The beam from Sam’s light bounced around for several minutes, disappearing for a while when he stepped past the tree line. Finally, he reappeared and strode quickly toward the front of the house. I heard the engine of his old truck start up and listened as he drove away. Obviously he hadn’t found anything this time either. I felt a little guilty for making him look twice, but his thorough searches comforted me. Whoever had been out there was obviously gone. I’d probably never know the identity of my late-night visitor, but it was a mystery I felt no strong desire to uncover—as long as it never happened again. The light had been suspiciously close to the place where Jacob Glick was once buried, but I had to agree with Sam. It didn’t make sense to think someone had been out there in the dark and the cold trying to find a grave that had been empty for months.
