by Marta Perry
“All right. I have my own car, so I’ll follow you.”
A business dinner, he reminded himself as he followed her out, aware of a totally misplaced elation that he’d persuaded her to have dinner with him. Just a business dinner.
* * *
THERE WAS REALLY no reason why she shouldn’t have dinner with Jake. Lainey kept saying that all the way to the edge of town.
When they’d reached the restaurant, a small cement block building with a gravel parking lot, she had her doubts. It looked like a dive. But the inside was bright and clean, the rear wall of the dining room decorated with a mural of fields and farms and an Amish buggy bowling along a dirt road.
The hostess, a fortyish blonde, took one look at Jake and rounded the counter. “Jake! We haven’t seen you in an age. Come here, you.” She grabbed him in a hug, pressing her rather obvious attractions against him.
“Hey, Wendy.” He disentangled himself, color deepening. “Nice to see you, too. Listen, can you give us a quiet table? We need to work.”
“Anything for you, Jakey.” She leaned across the counter with an ample display of leg and retrieved two menus. “Right this way.”
Bemused, Lainey followed her to a table in a small alcove, well away from the few other diners.
“Here you go.” The woman—Wendy—swished the menus in front of them, resting her hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Your server will be right with you.”
When the woman had finally swayed off to her station, Lainey raised her eyebrows at him. “Jakey?” she asked.
“Call me that at your peril.” He grinned. “Sorry about Wendy. She’s a bit...overly enthusiastic.”
“You could say that.” Her momentary cynicism, if that’s what it was, vanished in the face of his beguiling grin. The warmth that swept over her sounded all her alarms. Business, she reminded herself. “About the papers...” she said.
“Sure thing.” Jake pulled out the file and fanned its contents in front of her. “Let’s order first and then we can talk.”
Lainey nodded, relieved to flip open the menu and remove her attention from Jake’s disturbing presence.
Once the preliminaries had been gotten through and they’d placed their orders, Jake turned to the business at hand. Even a cursory glance at the papers he spread out showed Lainey that she did indeed need his explanations. He went through her great-aunt’s assets quickly, giving her a bare overview, she supposed.
“Wait a second,” she said, when he’d shoved a list of leases under her nose. “My great-aunt and uncle owned all this property?”
He nodded. “I explained that, didn’t I? Isaac had an eye for a deal, buying up land when it came on the market, renting some, reselling others. I have the impression it was all kind of a game with him. Certainly they didn’t live any differently than any other Amish. They’d never want to be thought proud.”
Lainey nodded. She might not remember a lot, but she did have a firm sense of the humility that had governed her great-aunt’s life. “It’s funny....” She stopped, not sure she wanted to speak her thoughts in front of Jake.
“What?” His gaze probed.
Luckily the server arrived with their meals, distracting him, and by the time he might have followed up on his question, she was pretending absorption in her pasta primavera.
She might be able to keep her balance better if she wasn’t so tired. When she’d finally gotten to sleep last night she’d expected nightmares after the ugly phone call and the untimely Halloween tricksters. Instead, her subconscious had reverted to the odd story Jake had told her.
She eyed him, thinking of what he’d said about the death that long-ago summer and its tragic aftermath. Intent on his steak, Jake seemed to have given up on business for the moment.
Strange, that she hadn’t remembered Aaron Mast’s death. Had she known? Surely she would have heard something, no matter how the adults tried to protect her from the tragedy.
The emotions that accompanied the nightmare were still vivid, although the memory was as jumbled as dreams tended to be in the light of day. She’d had a disjointed sense of terror at being alone in the dark, trying to run, and of something following her.
Lainey knew, suddenly, that she was breathing too fast. She glanced up to find Jake studying her face.
“All right?”
“Yes, fine.” Her voice was too bright, but it was the best she could do. “Please, finish your steak. The business can wait.”
“Okay, no business. Just finish what you started to say before the server came. What’s funny?”
She might have known he’d be persistent. She shrugged. “That my mother was actually related to Great-aunt Rebecca. She didn’t have a humble bone in her body.”
“Maybe it’s learned, not inherited. The way I understand it, Rebecca’s younger sister left the Amish when she was eighteen and never looked back. By the time your mother was born, she was a long way from being Amish.”
“She certainly was.” Lainey had long since lost any illusions she might have cherished about her mother. Deanna Colton had been too self-absorbed to notice much of anything about Lainey. “I’ve never really understood how I ended up here that summer.”
Jake’s level brows drew together, as if he considered his words. “Rebecca isn’t the kind to forget about kin. I suppose she thought you needed her.”
“My mother certainly didn’t hesitate to ask a favor. She had to put me someplace so she could go on her honeymoon.” As she remembered, the honeymoon had lasted longer than the rest of the marriage.
“When I drew up the papers for her, I tried to point out that she hadn’t seen you in years. She said that as far as she was concerned, you were her granddaughter. You’d do the right thing.”
That left her speechless and struggling. Certainly Rebecca was the closest thing to real family she’d ever had, but she had never imagined Rebecca thought of her in that way.
Granddaughter. The word seemed to spark a flow of warmth in her heart. A sense of belonging that had been missing most of her life.
But she couldn’t seem to control the fear that Rebecca might have made a mistake in thinking Lainey would know the right thing to do.
Once the plates were cleared away and the coffee cups refilled, Jake drew the file toward him and shuffled through the contents. “Here’s the statement for your great-aunt’s savings account. She always kept enough in it to cover the taxes and a little more.”
Lainey glanced at the balance, glad to focus on the mundane. “I suppose it might cover enough of the hospital bill to keep them off our backs, but nothing more.”
“I suspect you’re right, and the trouble is that the property taxes come due the end of the month.” Jake grimaced. “Bad timing, but there you are.”
Lainey set her cup down before she could spill it. “So soon? I didn’t realize.”
“You’ve probably never been in a situation to consider it,” he said. “The penalty for late payment isn’t very high, so we can put off doing it until January, but no later.” He put his hands flat on the papers. Long-fingered, tanned and strong, they looked more like the hands of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. “The only answer I can see is to sell some of the property. It’s not as if Rebecca has any particular attachment to most of it. The question is, which?”
“Not any parcels that are rented to family members. Aunt Rebecca wouldn’t want it.” That she was sure of. “What else is there?”
Jake studied her face for a moment. Apparently convinced she meant it, he turned to the property list, going down it quickly and making check marks against five or six of them.
“You understand, of course, that the farms are the most valuable. Without considering them, these are the parcels most likely to sell.”
Lainey glanced down the list, but the locations and descriptions meant nothing to her. “I suppose I’d better have a look at them before deciding.”
Jake nodded. “I’ll take you around to see them.”
&nb
sp; “You don’t need to—”
He put his hand over hers on the table. Lainey’s breath caught, and she lost the rest of the sentence. She met his eyes, saw them darken, and felt the attraction surge between them, strong and unmistakable. Unmistakable, too, that he felt it just as much as she did.
For a moment neither of them moved. Then Jake seemed to shake himself, like a dog coming out of the water.
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll pick you up about one tomorrow, if that works for you. Okay?”
Arguing, she reasoned, would be admitting she...well, never mind. She wouldn’t think about that now.
“Fine,” she said.
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE TIME Lainey reached the house after supper, the sun had slipped behind the ridge. She parked at the curb and got out, feeling as if she’d come home.
Odd. Where was home, exactly? Not the furnished apartment in St. Louis, nearly as anonymous as a hotel room. She’d never felt the need to burden herself with a lot of possessions. Certainly home wasn’t with her mother, currently living in Arizona with her eye out for husband number five.
Dismissing the fruitless subject from her mind, Lainey headed for the house. She’d have to visit the hospital in the morning, in order to be free in the afternoon for her appointment with Jake. By then, she should have regained her balance where he was concerned.
It was the height of stupidity to imagine herself attracted to Jake so quickly after the collapse of her last disastrous love. She had no intention of turning into her mother, jumping impulsively from relationship to relationship.
Before Lainey could allow herself to be caught up in that old, familiar battle, she saw Rachel coming toward her across the lawn of the bed-and-breakfast. Lainey paused, smiling.
“I was just on my way to pick up Meredith’s mail when I saw you pull up,” Rachel said. With her long blond hair drawn back into a single braid and her simple denim jumper, she still looked a bit like the Amish girl she’d once been. “How is Rebecca today?”
“There isn’t much change. The doctor thinks the coma might be a little lighter. I hope she’s right.”
Rachel reached out to touch her arm in sympathy. “I’m sorry. This must be very worrying for you.”
“Especially after a talk with the doctor and the social worker today.” Lainey grimaced. “I’m sure the Amish have good reasons for not taking Social Security or getting insurance, but it’s causing some problems now.”
“It’s a matter of depending on God and the church, not the government,” Rachel said. “I guess it does seem strange when you’re not used to it.”
“Not to you, I guess,” she said, remembering again Rachel’s Amish roots. “You obviously feel at home here, even after living away.”
Rachel smiled. “I used to envy you all the places you’d been and the things you’d seen, but I didn’t find the big wide world quite so great.”
“I probably exaggerated my adventures a bit.” They hadn’t actually seemed that adventurous to her when she’d been constantly starting over at a new school and trying to make new friends. “I envied you and Meredith, as I remember. You seemed to belong here.”
Rachel chuckled. “The grass is always greener, in other words.” Then she sobered. “About your aunt, though. But if the bills are pressing, you should talk to the bishop. Members of the church district would help. I could take you to see him....”
“No. Or at least, not at the moment,” she added quickly. “Aunt Rebecca trusted me with this situation, so I’ll try to figure it out. Jake suggests selling some of the property my great-uncle had acquired.”
Rachel nodded as if she knew all about it. “I’m sure you can trust Jake. He’s a good lawyer, and a good man to have on your side.”
Lainey could only hope Jake was, indeed, on her side. She suspected he was as long as she did what he thought was right for Rebecca.
“I take it Meredith is away, since you’re picking up her mail?” She had a feeling she’d talked about Jake as much as she ought.
“She went down to Pittsburgh to see her...well, her fiancé, but it hasn’t been announced yet. With her mother’s death...” Rachel let that trail off, as if wondering whether to embark on explanations.
“I’m glad Meredith found someone.” Lainey hesitated, but it only made sense to bring the subject out in the open. “Jake told me. About Meredith’s mother, and how it was related to Aaron Mast’s death that summer I was here.”
Rachel looked relieved. “I was wondering whether I should explain it to you or not. I didn’t want you to worry about it.”
“Why would I worry?” The little matter of her persistent nightmares seemed to answer the question. “I just can’t understand why I don’t remember anything about it.”
“You don’t?” Rachel’s blue eyes widened. “But we were all heartbroken when we found out.”
Lainey shrugged. “I left so soon afterward that I guess the move wiped everything else from my thoughts. It would be harder for you and Meredith, being here.”
Rachel nodded, but a doubt seemed to linger in her face. “I suppose so. It’s still difficult to believe everything that happened. Meredith...” Her voice trembled slightly. “Meredith was nearly killed. If Rebecca hadn’t seen her going with Victor toward the dam and come to me about it—” She shivered. “Another few minutes would have been too late.”
Rachel was obviously reliving the incident too vividly, and Lainey regretted bringing it up. “I’m sorry,” she said, knowing how ineffectual that was.
“Don’t be silly,” Rachel said quickly. “It’s over now, thank goodness.” She glanced up at the sound of a door closing across the street, and Lainey followed the direction of her gaze. “But I’m afraid it will never be over for Laura,” Rachel said quietly. “That’s Laura Hammond, getting into the car with Jeannette Walker.”
Lainey nodded. “I ran into them at the store. Anna introduced me. Or reintroduced me, I guess. Apparently they knew me back then.”
She found she was staring at the two women, and tried to force her gaze away. Jeannette had helped Laura into the passenger seat as if she were an invalid. But as she walked around to the driver’s side, Laura’s door popped open again. She slid out of the car and came running lightly across the street to where they stood watching.
“It looks as if Laura wants to see us,” Lainey murmured, not sure how to respond to someone who’d been through what Laura had.
“I hope she’s all right.” Rachel sounded concerned. “Laura can be...well, a little off-key sometimes.”
She couldn’t say more, because Laura had reached them already, with Jeannette hurrying after her.
“It is you.” Before Lainey could move, Laura had grasped her hand. “I thought it was when I saw you in the store, and now that I see the two of you together, I’m sure.”
Lainey could only nod, hoping that was the right response. Up close, the woman’s face was oddly youthful, as unlined and beautiful as the face of a girl. It was as if she’d removed herself from the stress of life that usually marked the face of a woman nearing forty.
“It’s nice to see you, Laura.” Rachel’s smile was strained. “You must be happy to be home.”
Considering that the woman had been in a mental institution since her husband’s death, Lainey thought that was an understatement.
Jeannette hurried up to them, glancing from one to the other as if she’d like to wish them away. “Come, Laura. I’m ready to drive you back to your house.” She put her arm around Laura as if to guide her away. Laura’s fingers bit into Lainey’s arm.
“Not yet. Don’t you see? It’s the third one. You are, aren’t you?” She turned an appealing face on Lainey.
“Laura remembers the three of us from that summer you spent here,” Rachel said, her voice soft. “We’ve all grown up since then, Laura.” She seemed to be trying to placate the woman.
Jeannette grasped Laura’s fingers, detaching them from Lainey’s arm. “C
ome along, now, Laura. It’s getting late. I’ll take you home.”
Laura’s face clouded. “People keep coming back,” she said. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s all right. I’ll explain everything.” Jeannette patted her shoulder, her voice gentle. “Come along.”
“Good night, Laura.” Rachel seemed to make an effort to sound normal. “We’ll see you again soon.”
Jeannette led Laura toward the car, arm around her waist, their heads close together.
Lainey let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “That was...odd.” To put it mildly.
“Yes. Laura hasn’t been well for a long time, and after seeing her husband kill himself—” Rachel shivered. “I’m not sure she ever will be again. Do you remember her at all?”
“A bit, I suppose.” It had begun to seem that it was some failure of hers that she remembered so little from that summer. “Laura is the vague image of a make-believe princess in my mind. Did Aaron’s death affect her that badly?” It seemed incredible that a broken teenage romance, even one that ended tragically, should result in such damage to the woman.
“That was apparently the beginning of her problems.” Rachel frowned. “There was so much that we didn’t know at the time—so much that we just finally learned in the past few months. I sometimes wonder—”
Her words were cut off by the crash and tinkle of broken glass, the sound coming from the rear of Aunt Rebecca’s house. For an instant Lainey was too startled to react, and then anger sent her racing around the house.
“Lainey, wait—”
No waiting, and no hiding behind drawn shades in the house. Throwing corn was one thing, but if Halloween pranks had escalated to breaking a window, she was going to call a halt.
Lainey rounded the back corner and stopped, fists clenched, scanning the area. Sure enough, a star-shaped hole marred the bottom pane of the kitchen window. The perpetrator had to be somewhere nearby, surely. But the shed door stood closed as always, and the tall grass beyond it stretched unmarked to the band of trees.
