by Marta Perry
A shiver went through her, and she regretted her too-active imagination. “What did you call it?”
“A grist mill.” A glance at her face apparently told him that further explanation was needed. “Years ago there were grist mills all through the area, wherever there was a stream with enough water force to turn a wheel. Local farmers brought their grain to be milled, and since they couldn’t travel very far, there were usually mills every ten miles or so.”
Lainey stared, trying to figure out what it must have been like. “So there would have been a water wheel?”
“There.” He pointed. “It’s long gone now, but you can still see where it was. A sluice gate would have controlled the flow of water to the wheel.”
“And Aunt Rebecca owns this?” She jerked her mind away from the images of horse-drawn wagons and bustling figures with which she’d been populating the quiet valley.
“The mill and about five acres of land around it. There’s been some interest from time to time in buying it, so it might be the logical site to put up for sale.”
“Can we go inside?” Before she made any decision, she’d need to take a closer look.
“I guess so.” He held out his hand. “Better watch yourself in those sandals. We have to cross the stream on the stepping stones.”
She took one look at the flat stones in the running water, decided a twisted ankle or a wet shoe wasn’t worth it, and took his hand. Jake went sure-footed across the stone and she followed, holding on to him.
Once on dry ground, she drew her hand free. The sense that the mill loomed over them intensified as they went closer to the structure.
“It’s not going to fall down on us, is it?”
Jake shook his head, smiling. “I had a look at it a few months ago, because there were some rumors that the township might try to force Rebecca to pull it down. The overall structure is sound enough, so I was able to discourage the township board from starting a fight they’d lose. But that was another reason I thought she ought to sell.”
“Aunt Rebecca didn’t agree with you, obviously. So why are you so eager to convince me?”
“I’m not eager.” He sounded exasperated. “I just think it’s the most likely possibility to sell quickly and bring in the money you need. And your aunt didn’t want or need to get rid of anything at that point.”
She considered that as he handed her up several rickety steps and into the first floor of the mill. It was dimmer inside, of course, but enough light streamed through the empty windows and between the boards to see the open, echoing space. A stairway led up to the second floor.
“The question still applies,” she said. “Why didn’t she want to sell?”
“I don’t suppose she saw a need to.” Jake was looking around, apparently satisfying himself that nothing had changed since his last visit. “I had the impression she wasn’t ready to sell what her husband had bought. And then there’s the difficulty of having too much money.”
“Too much?” she echoed. “Most people wouldn’t see that as a problem.”
“Most people aren’t Amish,” he replied. “There’s a sense in which humility depends on not possessing a lot more than your fellow Amish. As long as Rebecca’s wealth, if you want to call it that, is tied up in land, no one would think anything of it. She preferred the status quo, I guess.”
That accorded with what she remembered of her great-aunt, Lainey realized. So what had Rebecca thought of Lainey’s job, producing ads to convince people to buy things they didn’t need? The question made her vaguely uneasy.
“Look, if that’s how she felt, maybe we shouldn’t be considering selling,” she said abruptly.
“Changing your mind again?” The filtered sunlight seemed to stripe Jake’s body as he turned to her. “You’ve already said you have to raise the money for Rebecca’s care. You can’t just impulsively reject the only way of doing that out of sentiment.”
Lainey’s hands curled into fists at his tone. Impulsive? Sentiment? “It’s not impulsive or sentimental to try and do what my aunt would want, especially since she’s incapable of telling us.”
Their gazes clashed, but it was his that fell. “I’m sorry. That was a bit strong, I guess. If you see any other way of doing this, I’m open to it.”
He’d disarmed her, leaving her feel a little foolish.
“No, I don’t. I just don’t want to make any hasty decisions and then regret them.”
Jake tilted his head as if in acquiescence. “Right. I doubt the property would sell quickly in any event. We’ll take whatever time you need.” He paused, studying her face. “It seems Rebecca made a wise choice after all.”
For an instant they looked at each other, and she felt the intensity of his gaze on her skin. She turned abruptly, tilting her head back to peer up the staircase, just as glad to change the subject. The building soared above her to what seemed a dizzying height.
“What’s upstairs?”
“The second floor is where the millstones are. Or were. There’s only one left of the pair.”
“Can we go up?”
Jake nodded. “I didn’t have any trouble the last time I was here. Just watch your step.”
Lainey climbed the stairs, very aware of him close behind her. The railing was loose, so she kept well over against the opposite side.
She reached the top, and Jake stepped up next to her. “There’s the remaining millstone,” he said unnecessarily. The stone was placed in the center of the floor, a massive circle about four feet in diameter and probably a foot thick.
She approached cautiously, but the floor seemed solid. It would have to be, to support the weight of the stone. “So there would have been another stone on top of this one?”
Jake nodded, bending to touch the grooved surface with his palm. “The grain would have been hoisted to the third floor and then poured down through a hopper to the stones, which ground it.”
“How do you know so much about grist mills?” She studied his face. Clearly this fascinated him, perhaps more for the technology than what she saw as the romance of this reminder of the past.
“My dad’s something of a local history buff. You don’t grow up in our house without acquiring a lot of fairly useless knowledge.”
“On the contrary, today it’s become useful,” she said. She went to the stairway that led up to the third floor. It was almost more of a ladder than a set of stairs, and looked more rickety that the first set.
“There must be a beautiful view from the top.” She put her foot on the first plank and grabbed the railing.
“Wait a second. That third step—”
Jake reached her just as she put her foot on the third plank and heard a resounding crack. Before she could tumble, Jake had lifted her down.
He stood holding her, his laughing face very close. “...isn’t safe,” he finished, his voice low. “I noticed the last time I was here. Like I said, impulsive.”
Her palms rested on his biceps, and she felt his unexpected strength. His skin warmed her hands right through the fine cotton of his shirt. Her breath caught.
Jake’s eyes seemed to darken, and she couldn’t look away. It felt as if the very air was pushing them together, and she didn’t want to resist. She wanted to lean into him, to feel his arms go around her—
Realization hit her like a dash of cold water in the face. She couldn’t do this.
And Jake must be feeling exactly the same. His expression seemed to close, his hands dropped from her waist, and he took a deliberate step back.
“Maybe we should get moving.” His voice grated.
She nodded, mute, and headed for the way down.
* * *
LAINEY LET OUT a breath of relief as they neared Aunt Rebecca’s house late in the afternoon. She and Jake had been reduced to an awkward silence when they’d walked back to his car after that charged moment at the old mill.
For the remainder of their property tour, their conversation had been limited strictly to business
matters. That said, didn’t it, that he’d been as appalled as she had at that burst of mutual attraction?
Or maybe she was misinterpreting his reaction entirely. Maybe she’d imagined that he’d even had one, and that he’d thought she was coming on to him.
Lainey let out a breath of relief as Jake turned the car into the drive. Right now, all she wanted was to get out of the man’s disturbing presence.
Jake drove to the back door and then shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just used to coming in the kitchen when I come to see Rebecca.”
“That’s fine,” she said, opening the door before he could back up. “I want to check anyway to be sure Benjamin locked up in back before he left.”
Jake reached out a hand to detain her. “So you’ll think over the property situation and give me your decision?”
“Yes.” She got out and stood holding the door. “I realize it’s a matter of the sooner the better. I don’t want to start juggling hospital bills. Tomorrow all right?”
“That’s fine. Just give me a call.” He paused, his hand extended toward her, looking as if he had something else to say.
Lainey closed the door and lifted her hand in a gesture meant to combine goodbye and thanks. She turned away and heard the car reverse out the drive.
Finally she could breathe again. One difficult afternoon over with, thank goodness. She’d have to figure out a way to deal with Aunt Rebecca’s business without putting herself into any more close encounters with Jake. Of course, he’d probably see to that himself.
Mounting the back porch steps, Lainey forced herself to focus her thoughts elsewhere. The kitchen window looked fine, and she stopped to take a closer look at Benjamin’s work.
She ran her finger along the frame of the window. It was as if it had never been broken. In fact, Benj had apparently cleaned the window as well as fixing it.
She’d have to figure out a way of repaying him. He’d turned red to the tips of his ears when she’d tried to give him money, refusing with such determination she hadn’t had the heart to press him. Probably he thought of it as Rebecca’s window, and he wouldn’t take money for being neighborly to another Amish person.
True enough, but she’d still like to show her appreciation.
Fishing the key ring from her bag while juggling the folder of property listings Jake had given her, Lainey turned to the door. That was odd. A broom was propped crossways against the frame of the door, as if to block entry.
That was ridiculous. Benjamin had probably used it to clear up bits of glass. Maybe he’d locked the door and then realized the broom was still outside, so he’d left it where she’d be sure to see it.
“Ms. Lainey, Ms. Lainey.” The high young voice was accompanied by the sound of running feet. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”
Lainey smiled at Rachel’s daughter. Mandy’s blond hair had been plaited into two inexpert braids, leading her to suppose Mandy had done it herself. Her Lab puppy danced around her feet and then launched herself at Lainey’s sandals.
Lainey bent to ruffle the soft fur. “Your mother told me about you, Mandy. And about your puppy, too. How was school today?”
“Okay.” She shrugged with typical eight-year-old disregard for the dumb questions grown-ups asked. “Mommy says will you come to supper? I was supposed to watch for you and tell you it’ll be ready whenever you are.” She delivered the last part of her speech as if it had been memorized. “Please come,” she finished, smiling.
Lainey hesitated. She might have said something about not wanting to impose if Rachel had come herself, but somehow she couldn’t say that to a child.
“That’s nice of you and your mommy. Just let me put these papers away, and I’ll be ready. Do you want to come inside and wait for me?”
“Sure.” Mandy glanced at the broom she was still holding. “Were you sweeping?”
“This? No, I was just going to put it away.” Lainey pushed the door open, following child and dog into the kitchen and propping the broom in the small closet. “I think Benj...your uncle...must have used it after he fixed my window.”
“It’s okay. I don’t call him uncle, even if he is one. He’s not old enough for that, do you think?” Mandy tilted her head to the side, considering.
“Probably not,” she said, smiling, wondering how Rachel, whom she remembered as the shy one of their little trio, had gotten such an outgoing child.
Lainey walked quickly through to the dining room, where she’d been using the table as a desk, and dropped the folder, then stopped. Hadn’t she put the list of nursing homes into the file with the other papers from the hospital? Apparently not, since it was lying next to the pad where she’d been making a shopping list. Shrugging, she put it away and returned to Mandy.
“Okay, I’m ready.” They went out together, and Mandy waited while she locked the door, chattering about the new trick she was trying to teach the dog, who Mandy had said was named Princess.
This was a good idea, Lainey decided. The little girl’s bubbling conversation was an excellent antidote to the brooding she’d probably have done if she’d been left alone in the house right now.
Supper in Rachel’s cozy kitchen really was the break she needed. Lainey leaned back in the chair, feeling stuffed. “The chicken potpie was scrumptious. How did you turn into such a good cook?”
“My mother.” Rachel poured coffee into two mugs. “You don’t grow up with an Amish mother without learning how to cook.”
“Grossmammi is teaching me, too,” Mandy said, putting her plate and silverware in the sink without being asked. “I helped her make an apple pie.”
“You’re lucky to have your grandparents living so close.” Lainey smiled at the child. Mandy probably didn’t realize how fortunate she was to be so surrounded by family. Lainey couldn’t remember her mother teaching her how to do anything remotely domestic.
“You’d better get busy on your homework,” Rachel said. “I’ll look it over before you go to bed.”
Mandy made a face at the prospect but trotted off with only that mild complaint.
“She actually loves school, but apparently it’s not acceptable to say so.” Rachel sat down across from her with her own cup of coffee.
“So I hear, not that I’m around kids much.”
Rachel’s lips curved in a smile. “Someday,” she said. “Don’t I remember that you wanted to have a big family?”
“If I said that, it was probably because I was an only child.” Maybe her friendship with Rachel and Meredith had awakened a yearning to have sisters. “It’s lovely that Mandy has so much family close at hand.”
“It was a little difficult when we first came back.” Rachel stared down at her cup. “After all, no Amish parent wants to see their child leave the faith. But they’ve adjusted to it now, I think. And they do like Colin.”
Colin, Lainey knew, was Rachel’s fiancé. “When are you getting married?”
“Not soon enough for Colin,” Rachel said, eyes twinkling. “But I want to be sure Mandy and Colin’s father are both ready for the change. And I’ll have to decide how I can run the bed-and-breakfast if I’m not living here.”
“Those don’t sound like insurmountable problems. Not that I’m one to dream about marriage myself, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re ready.”
Rachel studied her face. “No thoughts of finding the one and settling down?”
Lainey’s thoughts inevitably turned to Jake. Attraction, she reminded herself, was a long way from happily ever after.
“My mother hasn’t exactly set a good example of the joys of marriage. I’m not sure I’m suited to settling down.”
“You will be,” Rachel said. “When it’s the right guy.”
The conversation was getting a little too close to the bone. Maybe she’d better change the subject.
“Did I tell you Jake took me to see some of Aunt Rebecca’s property this afternoon?”
Rachel nodded. “You mentioned it. How did it go?”
“Fi
ne. But Jake told me something that surprised me,” she said, setting her cup in the saucer with a little clink of china. “About Laura and all that happened that summer.”
“Really?” Rachel hesitated. “I suppose it is still on his mind, to some extent. You know he represented Meredith and Zach when the police suspected him.”
“No, I didn’t.” Maybe that explained Jake’s intensity on the subject.
Rachel smiled. “Jake was an absolute rock during that time after Meredith’s mother’s death. I don’t know how we’d have done without him.”
“So you think his judgment is reliable?”
“Of course.” Rachel seemed surprised that there could be any question.
Lainey frowned, not sure she wanted to bring it up but sure Jake’s suggestion would bug her if she didn’t. “Jake said that he thought it might actually have been Laura who caused Aaron’s death. That Victor was just trying to cover it up with all he did.”
She could see the idea was new to Rachel. Rachel didn’t immediately respond, seeming to turn it over in her mind.
“In all the talking we’ve done about what happened that summer, I don’t think we ever seriously considered Laura,” Rachel said. “She was...well, you remember, don’t you? She was so in love with Aaron. And she was apparently pregnant with his child.”
Lainey hadn’t suspected that complication before Jake mentioned it. “That could have been a wake-up call for her, realizing she was pregnant.”
Rachel shook her head. “It makes it all the more unlikely that she’d harm him, it seems to me. They were going to run away and get married—”
“Were they? Wasn’t she underage?”
Rachel shrugged. “In Pennsylvania, I guess, but they could have crossed the state line to Maryland. Still, her parents would probably have raised the roof. I suppose it’s possible that things started moving too fast for Laura. She might have reacted, tried to push him away—it would have been an accident. The dam can be dangerous, and the water was running high that week.”
Lainey found her mind shying away when she tried to picture the scene. Maybe it was time she went back to the dam and saw it for herself again.... Her stomach cramped at the thought.
