by Marta Perry
His green eyes narrowed, much like the cat’s had. “Didn’t your great-aunt speak to you about her arrangements?”
“Arrangements?” She sounded like a demented parrot, echoing everything he said, but she honestly had no idea what the man was talking about.
Evans rotated a pen slowly in his hand for a moment, and then tried to balance it on its tip. It fell over. “I was afraid of that. You see, your great-aunt has given you power of attorney. Do you know what that means?”
“I know what power of attorney means.” He didn’t need to sound as if she were a dimwit. “But I’m not sure what effect it has in this situation.”
“She should have talked to you,” he murmured, half to himself, she suspected. “Basically, it gives you the authority to make any decisions that are necessary in regard to her medical care or finances in the event that she can’t make them herself.”
“But...she can, can’t she? I mean, you said she asked for me, so that must mean she’s able to talk and make decisions.”
Evans shook his head, his face somber. “She did ask for you, yes. But after that she lapsed into what I suppose is a coma. She’s a little responsive, but she hasn’t been able to communicate.”
Lainey stared down at her clasped hands, absorbing his words. She’d known it was serious, of course—even a mild stroke and a fall would be in a woman her great-aunt’s age. But she hadn’t imagined it was this serious.
Evans sat quietly, apparently realizing that she needed time to absorb this news.
Lainey rubbed her forehead, trying to think what she ought to do first. “How exactly did it happen?”
He looked startled, as if he’d expected a different question. “No one knows, exactly. Her niece Katie stopped by the house to check on her and found her at the bottom of the stairs. The doctor says there’s no way of knowing whether she had the stroke and it caused her to fall or whether she fell and the shock brought on the stroke.” He gave her a rueful smile. “At least, that’s what he said with the medical lingo stripped away.”
The stairs she’d been up and down last night, never knowing...
“But do they think she’ll recover?” Lainey discovered she was holding her breath.
He spread his hands, palms up. “Nobody’s willing to commit, either way.”
“I see.” A headache was starting to build, and she pressed her fingertips to her temples.
“That’s why this power of attorney has suddenly become so important, and why I insisted that you come immediately.” Evans leaned toward her across the desk, eyes intent. “Someone will have to make decisions about her care. There are other relatives who live close at hand, but they can’t do anything if you accept the responsibility.”
She studied his face, trying to read behind the words. “You mean I could decline?”
He nodded. “Since she didn’t consult you, I’m sure everyone involved would understand if you felt you couldn’t handle it.”
“So what exactly would happen if I declined to accept the power of attorney?” It was beginning to sound more like the power to make a big mistake with her great-aunt’s life at stake.
“The court would have to appoint someone. Probably one of the other relatives, I imagine. I’m sure either Rebecca’s brother or her late husband’s brother would be glad to take the burden off your shoulders.”
Evans wanted her to refuse. She could hear it in his voice and read it in his eyes. Why? Because she wasn’t from around here? Because he didn’t like the way she looked?
Jake Evans’s attitude might be annoying, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the debt she owed Aunt Rebecca for being an anchor in her life when she had desperately needed one.
She stood up, obviously surprising him. “I’m going to the hospital,” she said. “I can’t decide anything until after I’ve seen Aunt Rebecca.”
* * *
JAKE CHECKED HIS rearview mirror to be sure he hadn’t lost Lainey, following in her rental car, when he turned up the street that led to the hospital. He hadn’t.
His encounter with Lainey Colton had confirmed all his concerns about the wisdom of Rebecca’s choice. His elderly client, like most Amish in the valley, had more relatives close at hand than an Englischer like him would find comfortable. Rebecca could have named any one of them.
But she hadn’t, obviously. Maybe that plethora of local relatives was exactly the reason she’d chosen to leave her affairs in the hands of an obscure great-niece she hadn’t seen in twenty years.
When he’d voiced his concerns to Rebecca, she’d been adamant. According to her way of thinking, you could know everything there was to know about a person’s character at ten. He’d thought Rebecca, from the shelter of her quiet Amish life, was underestimating the influences the outside world could bring to bear on a person.
At the time, Rebecca had been in fine health for a woman in her seventies, and he’d thought he would have plenty of time to convince her to reconsider. In retrospect, he’d been wrong. Now he was going to have to deal with the fallout.
He flipped on his turn signal and swung into the visitors’ lot. Lainey pulled her car into a slot a short distance down the row from his, so that he had an opportunity to study her as she walked toward him.
Lainey would draw a second glance no matter where she was, he suspected. In conservative little Deer Run, it would no doubt be more like four or five glances.
The October breeze lifted her long mane of curls, blue-black as a crow’s wing in the sunshine, revealing beaded earrings that reached almost to her shoulders. Even from several yards away the deep blue of her eyes was startling against her pale skin. She looked...what? Exotic? Artsy? She’d fit in fine at the huge arts festival held over in State College every summer, but not in staid Deer Run.
Whatever. He could only hope Lainey would be able to cope with the tangle she was walking into. Either that, or that she’d have sense enough to get out.
“It’s a small hospital, isn’t it?” she said, nodding toward the redbrick building that sat at the top of the hill overlooking the town.
“Deer Run is a small community.” He fell into step with her as they walked toward the entrance.
“Is my great-aunt getting the care she needs here? I assume there’s a larger facility somewhere nearby.”
“The doctors would recommend a transfer to a larger care center if they thought it necessary.” He couldn’t help sounding a little stiff. If she intended to take this adversarial attitude into every encounter, it was going to be a long day.
They reached the portico at the front entrance, and Lainey turned to him with a cool smile. “Thank you for showing me the way. You don’t need to come in with me.”
Accept dismissal? He didn’t think so.
“That’s okay. I want to check on my favorite client.” He gave her the laid-back smile that usually disarmed people and stepped forward so that the automatic door swished open. He gestured. “After you.”
She hesitated, as if she’d like to argue, and then she swept inside, her momentum carrying her right past the pink ladies stationed at their welcome desk.
“Good morning, Jake.” Helen Blackwood patted her iron-gray curls in an automatic gesture, her cheeks as pink as her smock. “This must be little Lainey, come to see her great-aunt. You won’t remember me, my dear, but I knew you when you were a child. I’m Helen Blackwood.”
Lainey looked a bit nonplussed at this welcome, but she shook the hand Helen held out. “It’s nice to see you, Ms. Blackwood.”
“Helen, please, dear. After all, we’re old friends. Now, be sure you give your dear aunt a kiss for us. We’re all praying for her.”
“I...I will. Thank you,” Lainey added. She tried to pull her hand away, but Helen had her in a firm grip.
“My goodness, I remember how you children loved my gingersnaps—”
“We certainly did,” Jake interrupted, taking Lainey’s arm and turning her to the elevator. “I’m sure Lainey will look forward to
catching up later. And you might let me know the next time you’re baking gingersnaps.” He propelled Lainey onto the elevator while Helen was still fluttering over his comment.
The door swept shut, and he punched the button for the second floor, grinning at Lainey. “See? I do come in handy.”
Her face relaxed in response. “Obviously the little old ladies adore you.”
He managed a look of mock hurt. “I’ll have you know that the Evans charm extends to females of all ages.”
The door opened before she could answer.
“Rebecca’s room is just down the hall. The next door on the right.”
Lainey stepped into the room ahead of him and stopped so abruptly he nearly walked into her. A look over her shoulder told him the reason. The room seemed full of people in Amish garb.
Easing her into the room, he nodded to those he knew. “Family,” he murmured in Lainey’s ear. “How is she today?” He focused on Katie Gaus, one of Rebecca’s many nieces, whose round face was made even rounder by her generous smile. The mother of a large family, Katie was comfortably middle-aged, her dress the dark purple color that seemed favored by Amish women her age. Katie had been the one to find Rebecca the day she fell.
“Not much change,” Katie said softly. She came to take Lainey’s hand. “Little Lainey, all grown up. It is gut to see you. Wilcom.”
“Thank you.” Lainey seemed to struggle to place her. “You’re Cousin Katie, right?”
“Ja, that’s so.” Katie smiled again, her gentle face warm. “I am a bit older and wider than you remember, ja?”
“You had a son about my age, didn’t you?” Lainey was showing more composure than Jake had expected at this horde of relatives. Maybe this was going to be all right.
“Ja, that would be Daniel. But komm. You are here for Aunt Rebecca, not for all of us.” Holding Lainey’s hand as if she were still a child, Katie led her toward the bed.
Jake stood back, watching. Now that he had a chance to look around, the room wasn’t as full as it had first appeared. In addition to Katie, three other women he recognized as relatives of Rebecca had apparently been sitting with her.
On the opposite side of the room was a small knot of men, their black coats and pants creating a dense spot in the bright room. Zebulon Stoltzfus, the oldest brother of Rebecca’s late husband, stood in front of three of his sons.
There was no doubt about who was in charge in that family—Zeb had always ruled his numerous progeny with an iron fist, and rumor had it that the bishop and ministers who shepherded the local Amish congregation had made more than one call on him. That usually meant the person visited had behaved in a manner that went counter to the Ordnung, the mutually agreed-upon rules by which the congregation lived. At the moment, Zeb looked like a man with a grievance, and Jake suspected he knew what that grievance was.
Lainey was bending over the hospital bed, drawing his attention. Her hair swung forward, hiding her face at the moment, but his thoughts were arrested by the tenderness in her movement as she took her great-aunt’s hand. She bent to kiss Rebecca’s cheek, murmuring something he couldn’t hear, and as she straightened he saw the tears that streaked her face. Jake had the uncomfortable feeling that all his preconceptions had just been upended.
He shook off the wave of empathy. Even if Lainey had genuine feeling for her aunt, that still didn’t mean that she was capable of making life-or-death decisions for her.
Zeb stalked over to him, his face set in a frown that would likely have even his grown sons quaking in their shoes. “Well? What are you going to do?”
Jake managed to keep from glaring back. It was no part of his duty to Rebecca to alienate her relatives if he could help it. “Lainey Colton is Rebecca’s choice to take change of her affairs.” He kept his voice even.
Zeb flung out a hand toward the women. “The Englisch woman is unsuitable. There is too much at stake.”
“She is Rebecca’s great-niece.” Jake’s jaw tightened. “And it’s Rebecca’s business, not yours.”
Obviously Lainey had heard him. She straightened with a toss of her head that sent her black hair flowing back over her shoulders.
“What is he talking about? What is at stake, and why am I unsuitable?”
Jake had hoped he’d be able to avoid an outright confrontation. Once again in this situation, he’d been wrong.
CHAPTER TWO
LAINEY FROWNED AT JAKE, waiting for an answer. When it didn’t come fast enough to suit her, she shifted her glare to the other man.
His narrow face was tight with an emotion she couldn’t immediately identify—disdain, maybe. Vague memory stirred. An Amish man talking to Aunt Rebecca, looking at the ten-year-old she’d been with just that expression.
“Well?” She wasn’t going to start off by letting herself be intimidated. “What did you mean?”
“I’m sure Zeb didn’t...” Jake began, but the older man’s voice cut across his.
“Chust what I say. You are not suitable to have charge of my brother’s wife. You are not Amish. Englischer.” He clamped his thin lips together on the word.
Katie intervened, coming quickly to join them. “Onkel Zeb, you must remember that this was Rebecca’s decision. It’s not Lainey’s fault.”
Not her fault, Lainey felt the words echo in her mind. Freely translated, that must be that Katie agreed with him but objected to his methods.
They couldn’t be any more convinced than she was that this entire situation was beyond her. Still, she wouldn’t give Zeb Stoltzfus the satisfaction of seeing her doubts. She remembered him faintly now—Uncle Isaac’s brother, and as sour as Isaac had been sweet, from what she remembered.
“Aunt Rebecca apparently thought I was capable enough.” She stated the obvious. “That’s why I’m here.”
Zeb seemed to be gritting his teeth. He turned to Jake, glowering. “You are responsible for this mess. I told Rebecca she didn’t need a lawyer to handle things for her, but she wouldn’t listen. And now see what has happened.”
“You can’t...” Lainey began, but Jake held up his hands to both of them. There was enough command in the gesture to enforce an uneasy silence in the room, broken only by the rhythmic hum of a machine by Aunt Rebecca’s bed.
“Enough.” Jake looked equally annoyed with both of them. “Rebecca’s hospital room is no place to have this discussion.”
“That’s right.” Katie tugged Lainey’s arm. “What would your aunt Rebecca think of this fratching? Komm. Sit.”
She wasn’t going to retire from the battle that easily, but Lainey let herself be maneuvered a couple of steps back. Jake, seeming satisfied that she wouldn’t interfere, turned to Zeb.
“Why don’t you and your boys go on home now?” he said. “I’ll stop by the farm this evening and answer any questions you have then. No point in hanging around here, is there?”
Zeb didn’t speak. He glared for another moment, then glanced at his sons and jerked his head toward the door. They filed out without a word.
Katie expelled a sigh of relief when the door swung slowly closed, and her round face creased in a smile. “There now.” She patted Lainey’s arm as if she needed soothing. “You mustn’t mind Zeb. He’s always been cross-grained, and I believe he’s getting worse the older he gets.”
“Aunt Rebecca said once that he was sour where Uncle Isaac was sweet.” Lainey smiled, remembering.
Katie chuckled. “Ja, that’s certain sure. Your gross-onkel was a kind man.”
“Yes, he was.” Like Aunt Rebecca, he had made her welcome in his home, although surely he must have had doubts about taking in a waif who’d been no relative of his at all.
“Komm.” Katie gestured to the chair next to the bed. “Sit and talk to Rebecca. Maybe she’ll hear your voice, even if she doesn’t speak.”
“I’ll be on my way....” Jake turned toward the door.
Lainey grabbed his arm before he could get away. “I’ll be right back,” she assured Katie, and led him
out into the hall for a private word.
He came to a halt a few feet from the door, forcing her to stop as well. He was a bit too large for her to tug very far.
“You mind telling me what you’re doing?” His right eyebrow lifted.
“Stopping you. You’re not getting away before I understand what going on with Zeb Stoltzfus.”
“Later,” he said. “After you’ve had a chance to think about what Rebecca is asking.”
“Now.” Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. “I can’t make a decision without knowing all the facts. Surely an attorney can understand that.”
Jake detached her fingers from his sleeve. “Are you always this stubborn?” He sounded more interested than condemning.
“Yes.” Stubborn. And impulsive. Those two qualities had landed her in trouble more often than she cared to remember. Pain flickered at the thought of the events of the past couple of weeks.
“All right.” His rapid capitulation surprised her. He glanced around. “Come on. We can’t talk in the hallway where anyone might hear.”
Now it was his turn to grasp her arm and propel her down the hallway. His big hand enclosed her elbow, and she felt his warmth even through two layers of fabric.
Jake stopped at a door and peered through the narrow vertical window. “Good, it’s empty.” He shoved the door open and led the way inside. “We shouldn’t be disturbed in here for a few minutes.”
It was a chapel, she realized, carefully non-denominational as chapels usually were in places like hospitals. Light streamed through the abstract pattern of the stained glass window on the outer wall, laying a path of color across beige carpeting. Two short rows of pale wooden benches faced a table under the window, which held a vase of bronze-and-yellow mums.
“Have a seat.” He waited until she’d slid into a pew and sat down next to her.
“Now tell me.” Almost without thought she lowered her voice. “What does Zeb have against me?”
Jake frowned absently at the vase of flowers, apparently arranging his thoughts. She waited, trying to be patient. She could stand to do some thought-arranging herself, since at the moment her brain felt like a juggler, tossing a handful of colored balls into the air.
