by Marta Perry
“If you want to get that, please go ahead,” Meredith said, obviously surprised that she wasn’t answering.
Lainey pulled the phone from her pocket. A quick glance told her that it was an unfamiliar number. She clicked it off. “It’s nothing important. I’ll deal with it later.”
There must have been something odd in her tone, because both Meredith and Rachel were looking at her with varying degrees of puzzlement.
Well, it didn’t matter what they thought, did it? Much as she enjoyed seeing them again after twenty years, that was all—just satisfying a passing curiosity. She wasn’t going to be here long enough to make friends.
CHAPTER THREE
JAKE HELPED HIMSELF to coffee and lifted his mug in a mock toast to his father. “Here’s to a better day today than yesterday.”
Dad raised his eyebrows, and the result was like looking in a mirror. Mom always said that he’d look exactly like his father when he grew older. If so, that wasn’t such a bad reflection, he figured. Dad was still lean, still fit, with just a bit of gray at the temples to add distinction.
“I take it things didn’t go as well with Rebecca Stoltzfus’s relatives as you’d hoped?” As always, Dad was careful not to tread on his cases, but their ritual morning coffee on reaching the office had become a time when Jake could air anything that bothered him.
“Not exactly.” He pondered for a moment. How much to say? Dad was safe, of course, and as senior partner, had a right to know. “Rebecca’s relatives might have reason to be worried about her decision to leave the great-niece in control.”
Dad set his mug down, frowning. “Are you saying the great-niece might make decisions that aren’t in Rebecca’s best interest?”
An image of the tenderness with which Lainey had bent over Rebecca’s hospital bed slid into Jake’s mind. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” He realized he was falling into the careful phrasing his father always used, and he couldn’t suppress an interior grin. “Lainey—the great-niece—seems to care about Rebecca. But she hasn’t been back to Deer Run in twenty years. How can she know what Rebecca would want in this situation?”
“What did Rebecca say when you raised that point with her?” Dad didn’t seem to doubt that Jake would have covered all the bases with his client.
“She insisted that Lainey’s good heart would help her make the right decisions. And when I pointed out that she’d only known her as a ten-year-old, she just smiled and said character was as plain at ten as it was at twenty or thirty.” He shrugged. “So what could I do?”
His father mused, the fine lines around his eyes deepening. “You had to do as your client wished, of course, but it’s an unsatisfactory situation all around. I’m sure we all hope Rebecca’s condition improves, but if it doesn’t...”
“Exactly.” Jake gestured with his mug, realized the coffee was in danger of sloshing out, and set it down. “That’s what has me losing sleep over it. As far as I can tell, Lainey Colton knows little or nothing about the lifestyle Rebecca led. What if she should decide to slap Rebecca into a nursing home, away from the rest of her family and friends? Or what if she decided to bail out...go back to her normal life and ignore what’s happening here?”
That was the thing that bugged him most. Lainey was such a fish out of water here. She must be longing to go back where she belonged.
“Well, if this young woman is going to walk away from her responsibilities, it’s incumbent upon you to gain her cooperation in straightening out the question of the power of attorney. A family fight over it wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interests.”
Dad, at his most professional, was looking at him as if he expected action. Right.
Jake straightened his tie and checked to be sure his keys were in his pocket.
“I’d better talk to Lainey Colton before I do anything else. It’s time she made a decision.”
Aware of his father’s gaze on him, Jake headed for the door. With any luck, he’d catch Lainey before she left for the hospital.
Rebecca’s house was just three blocks away, so he decided to walk. Jake headed down Main Street, relieved to be out and moving. The worst thing about being an attorney was the amount of time he had to spend sitting at a desk.
Deer Run looked its best on a sunny October morning. Chrysanthemums bloomed in pots or window boxes in front of most of the businesses, and the maples that were planted at frequent intervals along the street were already turning color.
Several kids from the high school were clearly enjoying a morning out, painting Halloween scenes on the storefront windows for the annual art contest. He paused to watch three girls painting a witch sailing across a stormy night sky. When they noticed him watching, they nudged each other and giggled.
He moved on. Only buckets or planters of mums decorated the fronts of the Amish businesses like Miller’s Shop. The Amish didn’t observe Halloween, considering it a pagan idea. Still, the town wore a celebratory air as it prepared for the annual Apple Festival.
Small pleasures, he supposed, but he appreciated them. Unlike a lot of his classmates at Dickinson Law, he’d already known the life he wanted. No high-powered law firms in New York or Los Angeles for him. Everything he wanted was right here, where nobody cared if he drove a battered old pickup or spent his fall Saturdays playing touch football or relaxed with a beer at the local sports bar. And it made him proud, though he wouldn’t openly admit it, to be in partnership with someone as respected as his dad.
He’d only made one unscheduled detour on his life plan, and it still left a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of it. That had been the only time he’d acted impulsively in his adult life, and he’d definitely lived to regret it.
No more mistakes of that sort for him. When he decided it was time to marry and start a family, he’d find someone who wanted what he did out of life.
He passed Meredith King’s place and started up the walk to Rebecca Stoltzfus’s house. What would Lainey Colton think of that peaceful Main Street scene he’d just been appreciating? She’d probably find it boring, he supposed. She’d be used to a bit more excitement in her life.
He tapped on the front door, but no sound came from inside. He knocked again, louder. Her rental car was still in the driveway. He hadn’t missed her, then. Why wasn’t she answering?
Finally he heard footsteps on the stairs. The door swung open. He blinked.
He’d clearly caught Lainey before she was ready to face the day. Her black hair hung in wild ringlets past her shoulders, and he had to reject the impulse to touch it to see if it would curl around his fingers. Don’t go there, he ordered himself. She wore an over-size tie-dyed T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants so fitted they showed every curve. He forced his gaze back to her face.
“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come by so early. I wanted to catch you before you left for the hospital.”
“What time is it?” Her voice sounded blurred with sleep, but there were dark circles under her eyes.
He glanced at his watch. “Just after nine.”
She groaned, turning away but leaving the door open. He took that as an invitation and stepped inside, closing it behind him.
“Coffee,” she muttered, heading for the kitchen.
He followed, finding her staring at the old-fashioned percolator on the gas range with what he thought was loathing.
“I’ll fix the coffee.” He pulled out a kitchen chair for her. “It’s the least I can do after getting you up.”
She didn’t argue, but her expression said that letting him make the coffee was the lesser of two evils. “I suppose you think it’s a crime to sleep late.”
“Nope. Do it myself on Saturdays.” He measured out the coffee. Luckily he’d spent enough time at the family hunting cabin to know his way around a gas range. “You must still be tired from your trip.”
She nodded, and then rubbed the back of her neck as if it ached. “That, and the fact that I got very little sleep last night.”
“Not used to the quiet?” He adjusted the flame under the coffeepot and then sat down across from her.
“Actually, I find the lack of traffic noises very soothing. I just had a bad dream or two, that’s all.”
“About your aunt?” He wouldn’t have thought she was the kind of person who’d let a nightmare keep her awake.
“No.” She clipped off the word, closing the door on that conversation. “I’m sure you had a reason other than making coffee for stopping by at this hour. Did you talk to my aunt’s brother-in-law?”
He nodded. At least telling her about his visit to Zeb would let him lead up to what he wanted to say.
“I went by the farm after supper last night. I figured there was no point in going any earlier if I wanted a quiet conversation.”
“And was it? Quiet, I mean. Zeb impressed me as the kind of person likely to shout.” The drowsy look was gone from Lainey’s face, and she seemed ready to do battle. Zeb must have really annoyed her yesterday.
“Yes, well, he can be a bit...dictatorial. His point is that his brother was the one who bought the land, and that he, Zeb, certainly is in a better position to understand about the property than...than someone from outside.”
“Putting it in polite terms, are you?” Her eyebrows lifted.
He grinned. “Something like that. And I can understand his feelings, but as I explained to him, it wouldn’t be proper for him to have the power of attorney, given that he has financial interests of his own.”
Zeb hadn’t responded to that line of reasoning very well.
“Did he accept that?” The aroma of coffee brewing seemed to distract Lainey, and she glanced toward the stove.
“Not entirely,” he hedged. “I’ll talk to him again.” When Zeb had had time to cool off. “He’ll come around.”
Lainey’s gaze fixed on his face again, her eyes so deep a blue that they looked almost black. It seemed to him there was a question in them.
“You’re going to a lot of trouble over my great-aunt’s situation,” she said.
It was the last comment he expected. “No more than I would for any of my clients.” He hesitated a moment, not sure what she was driving at. “I suppose, in an urban area, a law firm tends to be more impersonal. It’s tough for me to stand on ceremony with people who’ve known me since I was delivering their newspapers. Besides, Rebecca is a special person.”
Apparently he’d hit the right note, because she smiled. It was tinged with a little sorrow, maybe, but a smile none the less. “Yes, she is.”
He smiled back at her, and their gazes seemed to catch and tangle. He was suddenly aware of how pale and delicate her skin was, startlingly framed by that blue-black hair. Aware of how close she was, with only the small table separating them. Of the soft curve of her lips—
He leaned back, breaking off the gaze. Whoa. Back off. That was definitely not the way he should be thinking of Lainey.
Jake cleared his throat, hoping his momentary lapse hadn’t been too visible.
Lainey rose abruptly, turning toward the stove and reaching for the coffeepot, as if she didn’t want him to see her expression.
“I...I actually came over to ask you something.” Since she didn’t turn, he plunged ahead. “Have you come to a decision about whether or not to take on this responsibility?”
Lainey turned to face him, her expression guarded. “Can I have a bit more time? I’d like to see how Aunt Rebecca is this afternoon and talk with her doctors before I come to a conclusion. I didn’t have an opportunity to meet with them yesterday.”
“Yes, of course. That’s fine. Only...” He wasn’t sure how to say it, but he knew it had to be said.
“Only what?” Her tone had an edge to it.
“If you do decide not to accept the power of attorney, there are some formalities to go through,” he said carefully. “It would be helpful to come to an agreement with the other relatives as to who would take on the job.”
“I understand that.” She all but tapped her foot with impatience.
“You realize it’s important that you not just...take off.”
Her lips pinched together; her eyes narrowed. “No, I won’t just take off, as you put it. What do you take me for?” She made an abrupt, slicing motion with her hand. “No, don’t bother to answer that question. It’s pretty obvious what you think of me.” She spun away from him, bracing her hands on the countertop. “Thanks for making the coffee. You can find your own way out, I’m sure.”
Jake opened his mouth to offer an explanation, an apology, but the set of her shoulders and the rigidity of her back dissuaded him. That hadn’t turned out well, had it? Still, he’d had to say it. It was Rebecca’s welfare he was concerned about, no one else’s. If Lainey couldn’t understand that, it was just too bad.
* * *
LAINEY GLANCED IN the small mirror that hung over the dresser in the bedroom she already thought of as hers. She looked halfway decent, despite the dark shadows under her eyes. She patted a little concealer on and surveyed the result. Too bad she hadn’t been ready for that early-morning visit from Jake Evans.
It was his own fault for coming without calling first, and she wasn’t remotely embarrassed at his seeing her that way. Was she?
When she’d finally gotten to sleep it must have been nearly dawn. Odd that she couldn’t even remember the dreams from which she’d awakened shaking. She’d just had a sense of running, stumbling, sensing something chasing her, something terrible that was growing closer with every step.
Lainey turned away from the dresser and smoothed the handmade quilt over the bed, comforted at the touch. It was the same quilt that had been on her bed when she was ten. Sunshine and Shadows, the pattern was called, and Aunt Rebecca had said it was hers—that she’d made it for her.
Mom had insisted she leave it behind when she’d picked up Lainey to cart her off to another fresh start. They didn’t have room for it, she’d said.
But Aunt Rebecca had kept it where it belonged. Lainey remembered kneeling beside it, the hooked rug knobby under her skinny knees, saying prayers with Aunt Rebecca, and her great-aunt’s hands tucking her into bed.
She’d declared from the superior height of ten years that she was too old to be read to when Aunt Rebecca made the offer.
“You can read to me, then, ain’t so?” Rebecca had replied. She’d sat next to her, a book between them, listening while Lainey read aloud, showing every sign of pleasure in hearing the story. They’d read their way through three of the Little House books that summer. She glanced at the row of books on the bookshelf under the window.
Lainey’s hand lingered on the quilt. She’d felt so safe, going to sleep in this room to the soft sound of Aunt Rebecca’s and Uncle Isaac’s voices drifting up the stairs from the living room. No quarrels, no crying or shouting, just soft-voiced conversation in the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect Lainey hadn’t understood. Maybe you didn’t need to understand a language to hear love in it.
Pulling herself out of the memories, Lainey headed down the stairs. Then, moved by an impulse she couldn’t explain, she went back and took out the first of the Little House books. Silly, maybe, but if she read to Aunt Rebecca, perhaps at some level she would hear and be comforted.
What would Jake think of her, carting a children’s book to Rebecca’s bedside? He’d never know, and she didn’t care what he thought, anyway.
She went downstairs. Her tapestry bag hung from a hook in the back hallway, and she tucked the book inside. She probably should make a list and stop by the grocery store on her way back from the hospital. And maybe pick up some flowers on her way there...
List-making fled from her mind when movement in the driveway along the side of the house caught her eye. An Amish buggy rolled to a halt at the hitching rail by the back porch. Her stomach clenched when she saw the man who held the reins. Zeb Stoltzfus looked as stern and unbending as he had yesterday at the hospital.
She smoothed her palms down the flaring print skirt, gla
d he hadn’t been the one to come to the door before she was dressed. If he was here to renew his argument, he might as well just leave. Nobody was going to force her into a decision she wasn’t ready to make.
Zeb approached the door, followed by two other dark-garbed figures. Pushing away the thought that they were ganging up on her, Lainey went to greet them.
“Good morning.” She stood holding the door, not at all sure she wanted to welcome him inside if he’d come to argue.
Zeb gave a curt nod, his graying beard looking a bit unkempt in the breeze. “I have brought two of my grandchildren to meet you. Ella has a basket for you.”
The young woman behind him stepped toward the door, smiling shyly, and held out a covered basket. “Just some beef stew for your supper. And a shoofly pie. My mamm thought you wouldn’t have time to cook, running back and forth to the hospital so much, ain’t so?”
The smile and the gesture disarmed Lainey. “How kind of her, and of you.” She swung the door wide. “Please, come in.”
The girl...Ella, he’d said, went straight to the kitchen and set the basket on the counter as if this were familiar territory. Zeb followed her, and the third member of the little party trailed in his wake. The boy must be about fourteen or fifteen, lanky as boys that age often were. He darted what seemed a wary glance at her and then lowered his gaze to his shoes.
Lainey hesitated, not sure whether to hold out her hand to him or not. She settled for a friendly smile. “I’m Lainey. What’s your name?”
The boy’s blue eyes held a hint of panic, and he glanced toward his grandfather.
“Answer your cousin,” Zeb said sharply.
“Thomas,” he muttered, a flush mounting to his straw-colored hair. Even the tips of his ears turned red. “I’m Thomas.”
She shouldn’t have singled him out, obviously, so she just nodded and turned to the counter, lifting the tea towel from it to reveal the crumbly top of the shoofly pie perched on a covered casserole dish.
