Through the Autumn Air

by Kelly Irvin

  “Sunny’s gone?” Burke set his cup on the counter with a bang. His jaw jutted and a pulse beat in his temple. “They took our dog.”

  Our dog.

  He started around the counter. Then stopped. His hands went to the towel on his shoulder. He whipped it from its perch and wiped his hands needlessly. “You thought I did it. You thought I messed up your house and stole from you.”

  “No. I did not.”

  “I can see it on your face.”

  “Mac—”

  Burke held up his hand at Carina. “I told you I did things. Things I’m not proud of. I broke into a house when I first got here.” Emotion deepened the lines around his eyes and mouth. Sadness mingled with a pinch of self-loathing Ezekiel recognized. “I was hungry. That’s no excuse, I know. I didn’t know these people—”

  “You haven’t been yourself for a long time.” Carina patted the seat next to her. “Have a seat, Ezekiel. I got here about seven o’clock last night. Mac and I have been together ever since.”

  Ezekiel started forward. The words registered. He wavered. None of his business. He repeated the phrase a few times and worked to smooth his expression as he sat down an arm’s length from her.

  “No, no.” Their laughter sounding of old friendship and easy camaraderie, Burke and Carina spoke in unison.

  “She’s an Episcopalian priest.” Burke’s tone said that explained everything. “We were friends in the Corps.”

  “Like a Catholic priest?” Ezekiel knew a little of that faith but nothing of Episcopalian practices. His face heated. His legs felt like boiled noodles. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

  “We can marry.” Carina chuckled. “But mostly, I’m married to my job. I came out here to make sure Mac was okay. I’m just doing a welfare check.”

  “An unneeded welfare check. We found a twenty-four-hour truck stop and diner on the highway.” Burke’s expression remained neutral, but his voice held a hint of something Ezekiel couldn’t identify. Mixed feelings. “We talked all night.”

  “None of my business.” Ezekiel wiggled on the stool. Carina came all the way from Virginia to Missouri to check on a friend. Ezekiel had intended to make Burke his project. He didn’t even have to leave the house, and yet it seemed he had failed the man. “I only wondered because—”

  “You were worried about me too.” Burke’s tone lightened a degree or two. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so touchy. It’s been a while since I slept.”

  “How did you know he was here?” Ezekiel turned to Carina.

  “He sends me postcards now and then, but it had been a while.” She frowned. Her forehead wrinkled. “You look a little pasty. Are you all right?”

  “Did you eat breakfast? You didn’t, did you?” Burke stuck a cup of coffee in front of Ezekiel. “I’ll make you some eggs. An omelet with veggies. Some whole-wheat toast.”

  “I’ll help.” Carina popped off her seat. “I can handle toast. I could squeeze some fresh OJ.”

  “You’re a terrible cook.”

  Carina’s retort was lost in the shrill ding of the bell on the front door. Dan strode through it, letting in a rush of wind. He wrestled the door closed and then settled his hat back on his head. “I figured you were here already.”

  That was directed to Ezekiel. “Did you find out something?”

  His gaze on Carina, Dan removed his hat again. “I don’t believe I know you, ma’am.”

  Carina introduced herself.

  “I’d like a word with you, Mr. McMillan.”

  “We can talk here. Carina is a friend.”

  “I need you to come over to Gallatin to our office.”

  Burke picked up a washrag and wiped off the counter, including the space under Ezekiel and Carina’s coffee cups. “Am I under arrest?”

  “Let’s just say you’re a person of interest.” Dan rested his thumbs through his belt loops, fingers not far from the gun on his right hip. “Your fingerprints were all over two of the crime scenes.”

  “He’s been staying at my house.” Ezekiel lassoed his impatience. Dan was just as tired—or more tired—than the rest of them. “He admits to being in Mary Katherine’s house.”

  “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t follow through on that coincidence, if it is a coincidence.”

  “I don’t have a car, so you’ll have to drive me.” Stripping off his long white apron, still pristine in these early morning hours, Burke shot Ezekiel a penitent look. “Sorry, boss. I hate to leave you in the lurch this afternoon. Maybe Mary Katherine can help.”

  “She’s working at the Combination Store this morning.” Ezekiel stopped short of slapping his hand over his mouth. Barely. “That’s what I heard, anyways. I’ll figure something out.”

  Carina grabbed a black leather backpack purse from the counter and slung it over one shoulder. “I’ll drive you, Mac, so you’ll have a way back. Considering you had nothing to do with this, you’ll be back in time for your shift.”

  Dan frowned. “Who are you again, exactly?”

  “I’m his alibi for last night.” She marched past Dan and pushed open the door. “Let’s get a move on. Daylight’s burning.”

  Had she been a chaplain or a drill sergeant? The two men hustled out the door behind her. The bell dinged. A sudden quiet ensued. Ezekiel breathed. His cook a person of interest in a slew of burglaries. This was indeed a twist in the life of a restaurant owner.

  The bell dinged again.

  “Did you forget something?”

  “Nee. I saw Deputy Rogers drive off with Burke.” Ezekiel whirled. Mary Katherine stood on the welcome rug. Concern etched her pretty face. “What’s going on? Do we need to do something?”

  Yes, they did, but for the life of him, Ezekiel couldn’t figure out what it was.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Out walked one cook. In walked another. Ezekiel tried to gather his thoughts. They ran amok in his brain. Mary Katherine had made it clear that she had no plans to work in a restaurant. “I could use your help.” He peeked at her face. Pink and flustered. Pretty. “Dan took Burke in for questioning. I don’t know when he’ll be back. You’re here. You could cook with me.”

  The emotion in her face fizzled, replaced with chagrin. Her eyes warned him. The next words out of her mouth would not be the right ones. She focused on the menu over his head. “I was on my way to see if you needed any help after the break-in at your house last night. Then Dottie stopped me in the store’s parking lot. She was crying.”

  “She buried her husband a few weeks ago.”

  “She’s decided to stay.”

  “I can’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

  “She’s planning to buy Bob Sampson’s building and turn it into a bookstore.”

  Air whooshed from his hope-filled balloon. The bookstore of Mary Katherine’s dreams. “Are you planning to talk to Freeman about it?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  What was she really asking him? “Freeman wants you to help Leo and Jennie make the Combination Store a success.” He scrambled for words to fit her needs, not his wants. “But he also recognizes the value of your friendship with this Englisch lady. He will balance your desires with what’s best for the community.”

  “We don’t need a bookstore.”

  “We might not like having tourists peeking into our lives, but we know they help us support our families. Another store—the right store—will help us provide, not hinder.”

  “So you don’t think it’s a bad idea?”

  “I never said I did.”

  “You said . . .” She hesitated, a wary look on her face. “You said you could use help here. Your kinner would like to see you have help or retire.”

  “I wouldn’t want help from a person who finds being here onerous.”

  “Who could find it onerous? The Purple Martin Café makes me feel at home the second I walk through the door.” She rearranged the honey bear and a container of artificial sweetener packets. “It’s just not what
my heart wants.”

  “I understand that.”

  “That doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t want . . . other things.”

  “Like what?”

  She sighed and switched the salt and pepper shakers with the catsup bottle. Her forehead wrinkled with worry, she shook her head. “So Burke won’t be here to cook when you open?”

  “I don’t know. It depends on what he says in the interview, I reckon.”

  Her head bowed, Mary Katherine straightened a stack of laminated menus. “I can stay and cook.”

  “Your words say that, but your demeanor says something else.” He grabbed an apron from the shelf behind the counter and tied it on. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do the cooking. You go plead your case for the bookstore.”

  “Ezekiel, I’m sorry—”

  “The thieves took Sunny.”

  She winced. “I know. I heard.”

  “He’s just a dog.”

  “Animals can be better friends than people.”

  She had that right. A person couldn’t depend on people much. “I have to get busy.”

  Her shoulders bent, she sighed. “Me too.” She turned and trudged to the door. “Good-bye.”

  He backed away, unable to take his gaze from her retreating figure.

  She let the door close gently behind her.

  No way he would sell and retire. He needed the restaurant. He needed a place to go every day. Mary Katherine had her bookstore dream. He had his restaurant.

  TWENTY-NINE

  A person couldn’t hear the fiddle, banjo, mandolin, and harmonica of bluegrass music and not tap her toes. It was humanly impossible. Stenographer’s notebook in hand, Mary Katherine paused in front of the grocery store sidewalk-turned-stage where Richard Baker and the Jamestown Buddies played to dozens of folks planted in folding chairs set up in rows on the street. She scribbled some quick notes for her next Budget report. Her memory wasn’t as good as it used to be.

  She loved Heritage Days, the last big outdoor crafts day of the year in Jamesport. The event also served the purpose of keeping her from her obsession over Ezekiel and their conversation at the beginning of the week. Right after her conversation with Dottie about the bookstore. Dueling dreams. No point in thinking about either one. No sense whatsoever. She had two choices. He’d made that clear. Not thinking about them.

  “Jah, you are.”

  Hush, Moses. Aren’t you supposed to be resting in peace?

  “It’s a little hard to do with all the racket in your head. Go find Ezekiel. Tell him you’ll cook with him. Tell him you’re ready to start a new life with him.”

  What about the bookstore?

  “There’s still time.”

  Time like you had? Go away.

  No answer this time. If he really went away, would she survive?

  Mary Katherine raised her face to the sun. It would burn away the question. The forecast had been for rain. Instead the sun brightened the darkest corners of her mind. A brisk, cool wind ruffled the leaves in the elm and sycamore trees. Kids raced from booth to booth looking for fry pies and ice cream cones. The aroma of hamburgers cooking on a grill under a tent across the way made her mouth water.

  She had half an hour before she had to report to Jennie’s booth to sell jams, jellies, and canned goods. Leo had a booth for his small wood crafts—carved animals, toy trains, and blocks. They made good Christmas gifts for the grandkids. She needed a crib quilt from Iris’s booth for her latest grand on the way. First, she would grab a burger.

  “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  She swiveled in her chair at the sound of Burke’s voice. He stood behind her. A silver-haired woman with brilliant white teeth, brown skin, and impossibly straight posture stood next to him. “It has been a while. I figured Deputy Rogers locked you up.”

  “To his great disappointment he had to let me go.” Burke shrugged and nodded toward the woman. “I had an alibi he couldn’t argue with. A lieutenant commander and Episcopalian priest. Meet Carina Lopez. She’s been keeping me in line for the last week.”

  Carina held out her slim hand. Mary Katherine shifted her pencil and notebook to her left hand and shook. The woman’s fingernails were cut blunt and covered with a sheen of clear fingernail polish. She wore tan slacks, a red blouse, and a blue corduroy jacket. Her handshake was firm, her smile generous. “I’ve heard a lot about you, and it’s all good.” Carina had to shout to be heard over the enthusiastic picking, strumming, and grinning on the makeshift stage. “Thanks for not blowing his head off with a shotgun, even if he deserved it.”

  “No one deserves that.”

  “I’m only kidding.”

  Mary Katherine hadn’t heard a word about Carina. But she hadn’t spoken to Ezekiel in five days. Or Burke. She dutifully helped Joanna with laundry, cooked, cleaned, and played with the kinner. They whipped the dawdy haus into shape and moved her into it. She filled three shifts at the Combination Store. She finished four more chapters in her story. She’d been plenty busy. “Are you enjoying your visit to Jamesport?”

  “Very much. I’ve never spent this much time around Amish people before.” Carina slipped her hands in her jacket pockets. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I find the lifestyle intriguing. As a theologian, lifetime student, and a woman who is a feminist at the same time.”

  More words followed, but they were lost in the raucous music. Mary Katherine cupped her hand to her ear. “I didn’t quite get that.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Burke rolled his eyes. His deep voice carried better. “She’s getting all academic and philosophical on us. It’s too nice a day for that.”

  “Are you still working at the restaurant?” Mary Katherine raised her voice to be heard over the band’s rendition of “Just a Little Talk with Jesus.”

  “Yes.”

  No one spoke for a beat. Burke ducked his head. Mary Katherine studied Richard’s banjo. He sure could play.

  “I saw some beautiful beaded necklaces in that booth on the corner.” Carina looked from Burke to Mary Katherine and back. “I want to get a couple as gifts for friends. Why don’t I meet you at the burger tent?”

  She pivoted and strode away without waiting for an answer. Burke cocked his head toward the yellow-and-white-striped tent. “Buy you a burger?”

  Mary Katherine glanced around. She couldn’t stroll down Main Street with an Englisch man. It wasn’t done and she understood why. “I can buy my own.”

  “I owe you for a ham sandwich.”

  “It was on the house.”

  “So to speak. More like on the floor.”

  She laughed with him.

  He studied the crowd. A boy on a scooter whizzed by. The clip-clop of a horse’s hooves accompanied the squeak of wooden buggy wheels down the street. The crowd streamed around them in an ebb and flow of dozens of conversations and the mingled scents of cotton candy, popcorn, and funnel cakes. Burke seemed lost in thought. He looked like a different man. Still with the five o’clock shadow, but hair in a crew cut and neat, clean jeans, blue-plaid flannel shirt, and deck shoes made him look like a customer she might serve at the store. Not a guy who spent the night in her barn.

  Still no socks.

  “What if I said I’m headed over to the burger tent?” His grin made him look like a mischievous boy. “If I happen to run into you there, well, it’ll be a nice surprise. Carina loves a good burger too.”

  They could run into each other twice in one day. It had been known to happen in a small town. She nodded. He smiled and slipped between dueling strollers.

  After a few moments of labor over her notebook, Mary Katherine arose and followed at a decorous pace. Her stomach rumbled.

  See there. It’s hunger.

  “And nosiness. You’re a busybody who wants to know what the sheriff’s deputy said and how Ezekiel is doing. And you like the idea of thumbing your nose at the others who have no idea what it’s like to be alone at your age.”

  Moses!


  “I call them as I see them.”

  I’ve never thumbed my nose at anyone in my life.

  “Ahem.”

  Go away. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Carina would join them in a few minutes. They wouldn’t be alone long. Burke was a man of God, after all.

  Dorothy Borntrager and Josephina Beachy waved from the fry pie and whoopie pie booth. Ignoring the heat that scorched her face, she returned the wave and kept going.

  Inside the tent Burke stood at the first table. Waiting. It was still early and most of the tables were empty. An Englisch couple with three noisy children took up a table in the back. Mavis and Aaron Yutzy sat across from each other at the other end. They waved. She waved back. They had moved to Jamesport in the last year and kept to themselves.

  “What’s up with you and Ezekiel? He’s been crankier than a hound dog with a toothache.” Burke didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. Or he chose to ignore it. “You haven’t been to the Purple Martin since the beginning of the week.”

  A nosy man of God who might be matchmaking. “I’ve been busy, what with helping my daughter-in-law and working at the store.”

  “So busy you don’t have time to visit a friend who’s just been diagnosed with a chronic disease and needs his friends around him?”

  “Ezekiel has plenty of friends and family to help him out. I offered to cook. He turned me down.”

  “He did?” Burke sounded stunned.

  “See, you don’t know everything.”

  “Neither do you.”

  They both laughed. The Yutzys stared. The Englisch couple glanced their way and smiled.

  “The hamburgers smell good. I’m hungry!” Mary Katherine turned her back on him with as much dignity as she could muster. She said hello to Abigail Plank, who stood behind the tables pushed together to make a long counter. On top were paper plates, condiments, napkins, and plastic silverware. An open cooler held lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and pickles. A second cooler held an assortment of pop. Abigail, who held a spatula in one hand, tugged at a screen she’d laid over the cooler to deter flies and any other bugs that decided to brave the flyswatter hanging from the side of the enormous cast-iron grill that filled the air with hickory-scented smoke.