by Amy Clipston
His mother closed her eyes. “Oh, Marcus.”
“You will do no such thing,” his father bit out. “In fact, the only thing you should have on your mind is how to make amends to our guest.”
His father’s tone stung. “I know I was harsh with her, but you two don’t know her reputation. It’s worse than bad, Daed. I’m sure she’s been taking advantage of your kindness. Getting her out of your lives is for the best.”
“What exactly is your problem with Irene?” Mamm asked. “And you need to keep your voice down. I don’t want you to hurt her feelings any more than you already have.”
“My problem is that you’ve invited a woman you don’t know much about into your home to live with you. A woman who doesn’t have the best reputation.” He lowered his voice. “And I think you knew I would be concerned about her living here. It isn’t like you not to tell me about a new guest in your home, Mamm.”
“Perhaps we were hoping to avoid this very situation.” His mother stood and started cleaning up the coffee cups that were sitting on the table.
Marcus picked up a plate and placed it in the sink. “I know you think I’m being judgmental, but the man she admitted to being friends with wasn’t just an Englisher. He was a known criminal.”
Daed folded his arms across his chest. “You sure know a lot about an incident that wasn’t any of your business.”
“That incident was all anyone talked about for days,” Marcus retorted, unable to keep from raising his voice. “It was on the front page of The Budget. Television crews came to town too. Surely you both remember how awful it was.”
“We know how awful an experience it was for Irene, Marcus,” Mamm corrected.
“We know her friend that you don’t think she should have known saved her life. He took a bullet for her. He drowned because the ice broke. Because of his sacrifice, Irene and her friend Alice survived. He was a hero.”
“But he shouldn’t have been in Hart County in the first place. He was the leader of a gang. After that all happened, Alice Yoder left the faith and moved to Cincinnati.”
“Alice didn’t simply leave the faith, Marcus. She married the other man who helped save them,” his mother corrected. “Nothing is ever as simple as it might seem.”
“All I’m saying is that trouble seems to follow her around. I don’t want any of it to touch you.”
To his surprise, instead of looking shamed or even reflective, both of his parents laughed.
“I’m a little too old to worry about getting a new reputation,” his father said. “And truth be told, if people started thinking I was a bit dangerous, I might even like that.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I know you are, son. And I appreciate your concern, but it’s time you settled down. Right now you seem to have forgotten everything we taught you about forgiveness and compassion.”
Forgiveness. Compassion. Marcus felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. His mamm and daed were right. Even sheltered women with fine reputations like his ex-girlfriend Beth could do hurtful things. He knew that better than anyone. He shouldn’t have lashed out about Irene’s past.
No, he shouldn’t have been so quick to judge her. “I’m sorry, Mamm.”
“I am too.” Eyeing the staircase, his mother sighed. “Lord only knows how I’m going to get poor Irene to feel comfortable here again. I hope she doesn’t decide to leave.”
“She won’t, Mary Ruth. She knows we need her here.”
Maybe that was what had really bothered him. “Why do you need Irene here, Daed? I try to visit you several times a week. Is something going on with you both that I don’t know about?” Studying them carefully, he swallowed. “Is one of you sick?”
“Nee,” Mamm said quickly. “Nothing like that. It’s more that she’s been helping us with the cooking and cleaning. It’s been wonderful having her help.”
“Are you sure you’re both all right?” Guilt flooded him as he realized just how much he’d taken their steadiness for granted. He’d always adored them and never imagined that they wouldn’t be there for each other.
Daed patted his shoulder. “We’re fine, Marcus. Don’t worry about us.”
His father’s brown eyes looked clear and direct. He wasn’t hiding anything. Feeling a little better, Marcus exhaled. “I’ll try not to worry. But I have a feeling I still will.”
“Instead of worrying about us, I’d rather you concentrate on how you are going to mend things with Irene.”
“Yes, sir.”
Looking pleased with him at last, his father reached for the small brown envelope on the table and carefully pulled out the three cards hidden in it.
“Professor Plum. Rope. Dining room. Huh. Never would have imagined killing someone with a rope in the dining room. You’d think a candlestick would be a better option.”
His mother yawned. “All this excitement has made me tired. You’d best be on your way, son.”
Still feeling like things weren’t settled, he hesitated. “All right. But I’ll be back tomorrow morning to apologize to Irene.”
“She won’t be here. She’ll be working. You can talk to her at Bill’s.”
“And then?”
“And then? We’ll look forward to seeing you soon.” Mamm smiled at him softly before she walked toward her bedroom.
There it was again. His mother illustrated how to behave with grace and forgiveness.
Marcus told his father good night, then grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. The night air cooled his face, and he realized that was the first time he’d left his parents without feeling like everything was right in the world.
Once he climbed into his buggy, he let up the brake and clicked his tongue. “Let’s go, Sue,” he said as he gently motioned the mare forward.
For the majority of the drive, he reviewed everything he’d said to Irene. Then he thought about all the things his parents had said.
Then, to his dismay, by the time he unhitched Sue and gave her fresh water, Marcus was thinking about Beth Vance again. He remembered how sure he’d been that everything between them would always be picture-postcard perfect.
He remembered how hurt he’d been when he realized she’d been cheating on him.
At last, he forced himself to face the fact that he’d never dealt with her betrayal. Instead, he’d pretended that he wasn’t hurt and that he hadn’t really loved her.
He realized now that all that covering up hadn’t helped him recover from Beth’s rejection at all. Instead, the pain had festered inside of him, never reaching the surface but tainting his future relationships.
“You hurt me, Beth, but I’m going to move on,” he said to the empty barn. “It’s time. Nee, it’s past time.”
CHAPTER 3
Irene, what the devil are pumpkin pancakes?” old Mr. Graves asked. He was staring at the breakfast special written on the new chalkboard hanging by the diner’s kitchen.
For some reason known only to him, Bill had decided to start serving breakfast and dinner specials that were out of the ordinary. The pumpkin pancakes had shown up for the first time that morning, and already they’d created quite a stir. Bill’s regular customers looked on any new food concoctions with suspicion.
Those pancakes had also given Irene the beginnings of a headache. She was starting to wish Bill would stick to the same menu and leave his need to experiment in the kitchen at home.
“Mr. Graves, they are exactly what they sound like,” she said with a trace of exasperation. “Pumpkin pancakes are made with canned pumpkin. They’re tasty.”
“Truly?”
“Jah. You should try them.”
Looking at her skeptically, he barked, “What kind of syrup?”
“Regular syrup. Bill puts powdered sugar on them too.”
“Well now, I don’t know if I want sugar all over my pancakes. That don’t seem like the right way to start a day.”
“Try ’em or don’t, Ernie, I don’t care!” Bill called out. �
�But make up your mind and let Irene get on her way.”
Irene fought back a laugh as Mr. Graves scowled. “Do you want to think about it for a bit?”
As she expected, Mr. Graves’s bushy gray eyebrows shot up. “No, Miss Impertinent. I’ll have two fried eggs, bacon, and wheat toast.”
In other words, what he had every single time he came in. “Yes, sir. I’ll get that right out to you.” She smiled before turning around in relief.
She gave Bill the order, then grabbed a coffee carafe and headed over to the booth where May had just seated their newest arrival. “Sorry it took me a minute,” she said with a smile. “Would you like some . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized who she was talking to.
Marcus Wengerd. The last person on earth she wanted to see.
“Kaffi?” she finished at last.
Looking as uncomfortable as she felt, Marcus turned over his cup and slid it her way. “Jah. Danke.”
Hardly looking at him, Irene poured the brew carefully. “Do you know what you want to eat? Or do you need a few minutes?”
“I know I don’t want any pumpkin pancakes.”
Startled by his teasing tone, she met his gaze . . . and realized he was looking at her with an almost warm expression.
Now what was she supposed to do with that?
“It looks like you need some time.” She nearly sighed in relief. She would be able to take a few minutes to gather herself. “I’ll let you look.”
“Nee. Wait. I want to talk to you.” He lowered his voice. “Can we talk?”
She chose to deliberately misunderstand him. “You want to talk about the menu?”
“Nee. About what happened last night at my parents’ haus.”
Oh nee. No way was she revisiting that incident mere steps away from her boss and a good portion of the town’s population. “I’m working now. I don’t have time to chat.”
His brown eyes searched her face. “When do you get off? Maybe I could wait.”
Irene was torn between telling him to leave and lecturing him about his overbearing nature with his parents. Then there was the additional selfish part of her that wanted to sit across from him and plead her case so she could continue living with Mary Ruth and Henry. If she couldn’t mend things between herself and Marcus, his parents would be upset. And if that continued, they’d eventually ask her to leave. They would never side with her over their son, nor would she ask them to.
In the past, she would have done any of those things. But over the last year, she’d learned that it was better to keep her emotions reined in. The less she shared, the less of a chance that someone could hurt her in the future.
His expression softened. “Irene, please?”
It was the “please” that did it. How could she ignore that one word, so filled with desperation? She’d certainly felt that a time or two.
“Marcus, I promise I’m not trying to be difficult. I simply can’t stop to chat. I need to do my job.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Three.”
A line formed in the center of his forehead. “But it’s only eight in the morning. You’re putting in a lot of hours.”
“Yes.” She smiled tightly, thinking he might have suddenly realized there was more to her than a difficult past.
“Irene?” Bill called out. “Do you have a problem?”
She glanced over her shoulder at her boss and shook her head before facing Marcus again. “I really canna talk right now, Marcus. I need to see to my other customers. Would you like to order now or wait?”
He exhaled. “I’ll wait.”
“Then I’ll come back for your order in a few minutes.”
She could practically feel his gaze on her back as she retrieved an order from Bill for a table of four, chatted with a mother and son who’d come for blueberry pancakes, and took care of the ticket for one of her regulars, Mr. Nolan.
At last she returned to Marcus. “Have you decided what you want?”
“I’ll have the western omelet and some hash browns.”
“I’ll get that out for you as soon as I can.”
Right as she turned away, he said, “Irene, I’m just going to say it now. I want to apologize.”
“All right. Danke.”
“Please listen to me. I really am sorry. I . . . well, I shouldn’t have been so rude to you last night.”
His heartfelt apology melted her insides—and made her want to forgive him far more quickly than she’d intended. “They’re your parents. Of course you want to be protective of them.”
He visibly relaxed. “You do understand.”
“I understand wanting to protect the people you love.” Could she understand his being so rude to her? Not so much.
He smiled tentatively. “I’m sure you would’ve done the same with your parents.”
Her parents were dead. But even if they were alive, she doubted she would’ve tried to do too much to shield them from anyone. Remembering their years of abuse, she mentally shivered. “I need to put in your order.”
By the time she crossed the diner and handed Marcus’s ticket to Bill, she felt like she’d been through the wringer.
“You all right there, Irene?” May asked.
“Jah.”
“I didn’t know you knew Marcus Wengerd so well.”
“I don’t.” Since May knew all about her past, her bus trip out West, and her efforts to settle in again, Irene added, “He’s been out of town and just found out I moved into his parents’ house. I guess they didn’t tell him.”
“That was their choice, not yours. Remember that.”
Irene nodded. That was something she certainly did need to remember. She couldn’t take responsibility for other people’s actions.
Her life hadn’t been easy. She was born to a pair of people who were dissatisfied with their lives and angry at the world. They’d taken out most of their frustrations on her in private.
After her father died, life at home was even harder. Irene had tried to avoid her mother as much as possible—and find comfort from other people.
She had a laundry list of mistakes and regrets, but the important thing was that she had learned to never push her problems on anyone else.
She was in charge of her life now. It might not be perfect and it might not be a life that a man like Marcus could appreciate, but it was hers and hers alone.
It was something she could be proud of.
CHAPTER 4
Only Alice Fisher could brighten Irene’s day with just a smile. She gave her best friend in the world a warm hug, then drew her over to one of the back booths next to the kitchen. “Have a seat. I’m almost done,” she said as she took in her friend’s neatly pinned red hair and plain-looking blue dress that accented her eyes.
Alice looked as lovely as ever . . . and like she had made the adjustment into the English world with ease. “Would you like some coffee? It’s chilly outside.”
Alice smiled. “Could I have some hot chocolate instead?”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
“Bill, I’m going to take a ten-minute break,” Irene said as she hurried into the kitchen.
“It’s quiet here and I see who you’re sitting with. How about you make it at least twenty?”
She grinned at him, knowing that if the dining room stayed fairly empty he would let her take as long as she needed to reconnect with Alice.
Irene quickly prepared two hot chocolates, both topped with generous dollops of whipped cream, and returned to her friend. “Here you go. I decided to have some too.” She slid into the booth across from her friend.
“This looks wunderbaar.” Alice smiled as she took the first sip. “Danke.”
“It’s a treat for me too. I don’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate. Probably the last time I saw you.”
“If that’s the case, it’s been far too long. I haven’t been back in seven months.”
“Now, tell me what’s been going on w
ith you. How is married life with Calvin?” Last year, around the time Irene had gotten to know West Powers, Alice had fallen in love with Calvin Fisher. He was staying with his brother Mark, who lived across the street from Alice’s brother’s house.
Irene hadn’t trusted Calvin one bit. His family had a dark history and there were rumors that he was involved in a dangerous gang. It turned out that Irene’s new friend West was the head of that organization and Calvin had only pretended to be associated with West in order to help the police.
Alice leaned back with a contented smile on her face. “I love being married to Calvin. He’s attentive and sweet. Fun too. It’s wunderbaar.”
“How is living among the English?”
“Some things are challenging, of course, but it helps that Calvin is from Hart County. He understands when I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
“And he brings you back here to visit.”
“That he does. We both wanted to see our families for a spell, so we’re here for a full week.” Smiling broadly, Alice continued. “We’re sleeping at Mark’s house for half the time and at my brother Edward’s for the other half. Calvin thought moving from house to house was silly, but everyone wants to see us.” She shrugged. “This way we won’t be a burden on anyone for too long either. You know what they say about houseguests and fish. Three days is enough.”
Irene smiled at the old joke. “I’m mighty glad you made time to see me too.”
Alice pushed her cup to the side. “What are you talking about? I didn’t just make time, silly. I wanted to see you. I even told Calvin that I want to spend a couple of hours together one evening with you at your apartment.”
“I would like that . . . except I’m not living in that basement apartment anymore.” She thought of Marcus. She should probably find out if her old place was available.
“Why did you move?”
“It’s a long story, but one of the couples I met on my bus trip invited me to live with them. They’ve given me a room in exchange for my help with cooking and cleaning.”
Alice raised her eyebrows. “Are you happy with that arrangement? It seems you already do your share of cooking and cleaning here at the diner.”