Abandon the Dark

by Marta Perry

  “Didn’t you wonder why an Amish woman would have an attorney?”

  Lainey blinked at the question. “Well, I guess I didn’t consider it.” Why would she? She hadn’t known until he’d called her with the news, and she’d been too shocked to think of anything except getting here.

  “It’s unusual, to put it mildly.” The lines of his face relaxed a little. “Unlike most of the Amish in this area, your great-uncle was actually fairly wealthy, at least in terms of the property he owned. I think it started almost by accident, but Isaac seemed to have a gift for knowing when to buy. As a result, when he became sick, he consulted me, wanting to be sure Rebecca had someone to advise her.”

  “He didn’t trust the family to do so?” Picturing Zeb’s narrow, avaricious face, she didn’t think she’d trust him either.

  “Let’s just say that Isaac didn’t want Rebecca to have to handle any family disagreements. He felt that having an outsider assisting her would prevent that.”

  “Okay. But I still don’t see what there is in that to make his brother so upset. If, as you say, my aunt’s money is invested in land, there surely isn’t anything I have to do about it while she’s ill. When she gets better...” She stopped, not wanting to think about the alternative.

  “Yes.” Jake seemed to be answering what she didn’t say, and his already deep voice deepened still more in sympathy. “We don’t know yet what will happen to Rebecca, and whether she’ll ever be able to take over managing the property again. In the meantime I can certainly collect rents and pay taxes, but there’s more to it than that.”

  Lainey’s head was beginning to ache as Jake seemed intent on adding even more to the number of balls she was juggling. “You’d better tell me the worst of it. How else am I going to know what to do?”

  His firm lips curved slightly. “There’s no ‘worst,’ as you say. It’s just that Rebecca owns several farms among other things—farms that Zeb and three of his sons operate.”

  “They’re doing it for her?”

  “No, they’re doing it for themselves. They pay her a rent that is...nominal, to say the least.”

  She still didn’t quite see what all the fuss was about. “Surely Zeb doesn’t think I’m going to raise the rent or evict them or something. Things can just go on the way they are.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Jake’s frown told her that despite his words, there was something worse to come. “A week or so before Rebecca’s stroke, Zeb had asked her to sign one of the farms over to him so that he could use it for collateral on a loan. She hadn’t made a decision yet, so that’s in limbo, and I don’t know how badly he needed or wanted the money.”

  No wonder Zeb was upset. “But he could hardly expect to go anywhere with that project while Rebecca is incapacitated, no matter who had the power of attorney.”

  Jake shrugged. “As I said, I don’t know how badly he needs the money. And it is possible for the person with the power of attorney to sell property. In fact, it might become necessary for other reasons.”

  Lainey glared at him, not liking the way this conversation was going. “Stop trying to break it to me gently. Just tell me.”

  “I wasn’t.” His grin startled her. “But you’d be surprised how few people can keep up when a lawyer starts explaining things.”

  “They teach you that in law school, do they?” That smile of his seemed to touch something inside her.

  “Actually, I picked that up from my dad.”

  The only thing she’d picked up from a long line of stepdads was that she was superfluous. And the assurance that they wouldn’t be around for long.

  “So why might it be necessary to sell property?” She could feel the weight of responsibility getting heavier.

  “I don’t know how much you remember about Amish beliefs, but they don’t have insurance. Decisions may have to be made about how to pay for Rebecca’s care. As long as her assets are tied up in land, it’s not going to be easy to come up with funds.”

  She stared at him blankly for a few seconds. “But surely, Medicare...”

  He was already shaking his head. “The Amish don’t pay into Medicare and Social Security, and they don’t accept the benefits. In the case of someone needing hospital care, the family pays out of pocket, and when necessary, the church district takes up an offering to make up the difference.”

  She tried to wrap her mind around it. So in addition to fending off angry relatives and making decisions about Aunt Rebecca’s care that she felt very ill-equipped to make, she was also probably going to be landed with a cartload of bills she couldn’t pay. She pressed her fingers to her temples.

  “Is that all of it? You don’t have any more surprises for me?”

  “That’s it.” She thought she read sympathy in his clear green eyes. “Sorry about hitting you with all of this, but you wanted to know.”

  “I did.” Lainey took a deep breath. It didn’t help. “Well, thanks for being honest with me.”

  “It’s not an easy situation. To continue being honest, I advised her against choosing you for this responsibility.”

  “Prejudiced without seeing me?” she asked sweetly.

  “It’s not that.” His tanned face flushed. “I just thought it made more sense to name someone here, someone who’d have a better understanding of Rebecca’s situation.”

  “Like my great-uncle Zeb?” The momentary connection she’d felt at his sympathy vanished.

  “No, certainly not Zeb.” His voice was crisp. “Not anyone who has something to gain or lose by the decisions that might be made. But that list still includes other people who...” He let that trail off.

  But she could finish it for him. “...who are more qualified than I am? Annoying as that is, you may be right.”

  Jake’s jaw set, and he seemed to censor the words that sprang to his lips. “As I mentioned, you don’t have to accept. We could make a recommendation that another person be chosen because you’re unable to perform the duties. After all, you have a home and a life elsewhere. No one could blame you for saying no.”

  Home was something she’d never had, unless she counted one long-ago summer. And her life was such a mess that she wasn’t especially eager to return to it.

  But neither of those was a good reason for turning down the responsibility Aunt Rebecca had thrust upon her.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said, rising. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

  Jake stood, too, looking down at her for a long moment, his face giving nothing away. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” He glanced at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the office.” Without waiting for a response, he walked quickly out of the chapel.

  Lainey followed more slowly. Heading down the hall toward her aunt’s room, she tried to marshal her thoughts, but they refused to be collected.

  She was aware of one overwhelming urge. Escape. That was what she always did, wasn’t it? When things got difficult, when relationships grew sticky, she escaped. At least, unlike her mother, she didn’t marry her mistakes.

  At the moment, her stomach churned with anxiety, with the urge to keep going right past that hospital room where Aunt Rebecca lay, to get on the elevator, to get in her rental car, and get out of town.

  She didn’t. She turned and walked back into her aunt’s room. If she was going to back out of this situation, at least she wouldn’t run.

  * * *

  LAINEY GLANCED AT the clock over the refrigerator. Jake had told Zeb he’d stop by to see him this evening. He might be there now. What was he telling the man?

  Odd, wasn’t it? She’d never heard of an attorney who made house calls, and on someone who wasn’t a client, no less. Maybe Jake was just a really nice guy. Or maybe there was more involved in this situation than she realized. In any event, she’d better curb her well-known gift for acting impulsively and consider all the options before making such a big decision.

  She dried the plate she’d used for her supper, looking
out the window over the sink. The sun was sliding over the ridge, its slanting rays turning the trees in the woods to gold. Beyond the patch of woods, where the land sloped gently upward, she could see cows moving toward a barn, prompted by a small Amish boy whose straw hat didn’t even reach the cows’ backs.

  She’d forgotten how peaceful the valley was. And how beautiful. Of course, it was possible that as a child she hadn’t noticed it. She’d been too busy running around all day with those two girls...she blanked out, unable to remember their names for a moment. Then it came back to her, swimming up from the depths of memory. Rachel and Meredith.

  Rachel had been the Amish girl from the farm on the other side of the creek, and Meredith the one who lived in the house next door. Apparently she still did, from what Lainey remembered of her great-aunt’s letters. It was hard to imagine someone as bright and energetic as Meredith had been settling down in a place like Deer Run.

  People did, she supposed. Her thoughts went back to Jake. He had, obviously. Maybe he liked being the big fish in the small pond.

  What was he saying to Zeb Stoltzfus? She couldn’t help feeling a sliver of uneasiness, despite Jake’s assurances. Jake had claimed he didn’t support the idea of Zeb controlling Rebecca’s assets or her care, but what if he liked the idea of Lainey doing it even less? Despite those few moments when they’d seemed to click, he’d clearly thought Rebecca had made a mistake in naming her.

  Lainey’s cell phone rang, and her nerves seemed to jangle in tune with it. She’d given the hospital her cell number. Dropping the dish towel, she snatched up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  For a moment there was nothing. Then a voice, a muffled, hoarse whisper that might have been a man or a woman, muttered a string of the abuse and obscenities that had grown all too familiar in recent weeks.

  She yanked the phone away from her ear and punched the off key. Her stomach churned, and her ear tingled as if something ugly had crawled inside.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to shake. She ought to be getting used to it. The calls had come in a steady stream since Joanna Marcus had so publicly attempted suicide. She’d tried reporting them to the police in St. Louis. The officer she spoke with had looked as if he thought she deserved what she got.

  But those calls had come on her landline at the apartment in St. Louis. How had someone gotten the number of her cell phone? Of course, anyone who’d worked in the ad agency could easily have access to her cell number. Her stomach churned at the thought that the caller might be someone she knew.

  Lainey reached out to turn off the phone and realized she couldn’t. That number was the only way the hospital could reach her.

  At least she could be smart enough to check the caller before she answered. After a string of remarkably stupid decisions, surely she could manage that.

  Lainey ran her hand through tangled curls. She was not going to go through it all again. But the memories, once started, unrolled in her mind like a disaster movie, where one wrong choice led inexorably to another.

  Dating your boss was stupid. She knew that, but she’d let Phillip Marcus charm her anyway. She’d let it get serious, more so than she ever did, believing him when he said he and his wife had been legally separated for a year, that his divorce would be final in a matter of months, that he was free of a marriage both of them agreed was a mistake.

  Lainey had bought it all, and now she looked at her actions with disgust. Anyone would think she’d been a starry-eyed eighteen-year-old instead of a cynical thirty.

  If it had ended quietly, she’d still have been ashamed, but at least it would have been a private shame. But Joanna, the wife Phillip had insisted wanted to be rid of him, had called in to a radio talk show, announcing she had taken a massive dose of sleeping pills and naming Lainey as the worthless tramp who had stolen her husband.

  The paramedics had been in time to save her, thank God. If she’d been anyone else, the whole affair might have passed from the media’s attention in twenty-four hours. But Joanna’s family was a prominent one—her father a judge, her brother a state senator. Lainey had been completely unprepared for the level of vitriol launched at her.

  Maybe she’d deserved it, but she hadn’t expected it to follow her here. She’d been wrong, it seemed.

  A loud meow, followed by a scratching at the back door, jerked her out of that profitless line of thought. She hurried to open the back door.

  “All right, all right. You don’t have to make scratch marks on the door.”

  The black cat walked inside, tail high, with an air of owning the place. He sat down on the exact spot where she had fed him the previous night and looked at her.

  “Doesn’t your owner feed you?” She opened the cabinet and retrieved a can of tuna. “If this keeps up, I’ll have to lay in a supply of cat food. I don’t imagine that Aunt Rebecca can afford to keep you in tuna.”

  The cat followed her every move with unblinking green eyes. When she set the bowl down in front of him he stared at her for another moment and then tucked in.

  She couldn’t help smiling. “You have a fine sense of your own importance, I’ll say that for you.” At least he’d announced himself at the door this time, instead of appearing out of nowhere.

  A knock at the front door pulled her away from contemplation of the cat. She went quickly to the front of the house and swung the door open. Maybe Jake...

  But two women stood on the front porch, looking at her with an expectation that reminded her of the cat.

  “Don’t you know us, Lainey?” The taller woman brushed a wing of silky brown hair behind her ear. “I think I’d know you anywhere.”

  The pieces fell into place. “Meredith, of course. And Rachel. I was just thinking about you. Please, come in.”

  Strange, to see them now when the only images in her mind were of a tomboy in braids and blue jeans and a sweet-faced Amish girl, blond hair drawn back under a kapp, dress reaching below her knees. Memories began to filter through the intervening years—of giggling slumber parties and secrets shared in the tree house Meredith’s father had built in her backyard. It was as if Lainey had a whole life she’d forgotten, just waiting for her to remember.

  “You’ve changed. Still, I guess we’ve all grown up, haven’t we?” She followed them into the living room. They seemed to know their way around the house as well as she did, which wasn’t really surprising.

  Rachel chuckled. “You’re thinking that I’ve really changed, right? It’s a shock when you’re expecting an Amish woman in kapp and apron.” She gestured toward her jeans and cotton sweater.

  “I think Aunt Rebecca wrote to me about it when you came back to Deer Run.” Lainey’s brain finally caught up. She probably should have reread Aunt Rebecca’s letters on her way here. “You have a little girl, don’t you?”

  Rachel’s face lit with maternal pride. “Mandy. We’re next door, actually.” She gestured toward what was the last house in the village. “I’ve turned my mother-in-law’s old home into a bed-and-breakfast.”

  “And I’m still on the opposite side of your aunt’s house, so we have you surrounded,” Meredith said.

  “Just like old times.” It was oddly familiar to be here with them, even though she’d thought of them so seldom in recent years.

  Meredith sat down in a rocker. “I run my accounting business out of my home.”

  “Accounting?” Lainey shook her head. “It seemed to me you were going to be an astronaut. Or run a dude ranch out West.”

  “That summer must have been the end of my cowgirl phase,” Meredith said, brown eyes smiling at the memory. “It finally occurred to me that I was afraid of horses, something that limited my cowgirl ambitions. As I recall, you were going to live in Paris and be an artist. What happened?”

  “I discovered I wasn’t that talented.” Funny, how easy it was to admit that to them. Maybe the bond they’d formed then was more durable than she would have expected. “I ended up working for an adverti
sing agency.” At least, that’s what she had been doing. Technically, at the moment she was unemployed.

  “Life seldom turns out the way we dream it will when we’re ten,” Rachel said. “But you were a wonderful artist. We still have the scrapbook from that summer with your drawings.”

  Meredith glanced at her, frowning almost in warning, it seemed, making Lainey wonder why that would be a touchy subject.

  “I’d like to see it sometime.” That seemed the polite thing to say, although Lainey would have to admit that her memories of that summer were rather hazy. “It was about some story we made up, wasn’t it?”

  “Something like that,” Meredith agreed. “Have you been to the hospital yet? I was there yesterday, but the nurses weren’t very forthcoming about Rebecca’s condition.”

  “That was nice of you.” Lainey was reminded that Rebecca had an entire life here, with relatives and friends who were all probably wondering about her. “I don’t think they can predict very much about how much she’ll recover. She was still...”

  She lost the thread when the cat, apparently finished with his dinner, appeared in the kitchen doorway. He stood for a moment, assessing them, and then crossed the room to jump lightly onto Lainey’s lap and settle there.

  “You have a cat.” Rachel reached out to run her fingers lightly along the glossy back. “My daughter, Mandy, will fall in love. She’s been asking if she can get a kitten, but since she already has a puppy, I think that’s enough.”

  “She’s welcome to come and visit, but I can’t guarantee the cat will be here. It’s not mine. I supposed it was Aunt Rebecca’s, but Jake Evans said she didn’t have a cat, so I guess it belongs to a neighbor.”

  “That’s odd.” Meredith’s forehead furrowed. “I can’t think of anyone on the block with a black cat.”

  “Probably a stray,” Rachel said. “Rebecca has such a tender heart that she wouldn’t turn it away. He’s a handsome creature, isn’t he?”

  Lainey’s cell phone rang, and her hands clutched in the cat’s fur. With an annoyed glance, he leaped to the floor and began washing himself.