His Guilt

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “It seems we’re at odds with each other, since I like the winter and you like the summer.”

  “We like different things, but I don’t know if one would say we’re at odds with each other. I hope not.” After he threw his sack and apple core in the trash, he turned to her. “Thank you again,” he said almost formally. “This was nice.”

  She realized he was going to go back into the store. “You’re going back already? I think we still have fifteen minutes.”

  “It’s early, but I don’t mind. I don’t want Henry to have to work by himself any longer. See you in fifteen minutes.”

  Alone again, she thought about her little speech, and how off guard he’d looked when she’d mentioned his parents.

  She thought about his list of loves. Realized that they were all things she took for granted, things he’d most likely missed when he was a boy growing up in that house.

  Then she thought about him using her fork and eating the food she’d brought.

  And she wondered why she was so pleased that things had turned out the way they had.

  CHAPTER 6

  August 5

  You are so foolish, Mark chided himself as he walked home Friday evening after work.

  Remembering their lunch together, he grimaced. He’d finally had the opportunity to show how much he’d grown. But instead of simply eating lunch and talking about easy things, he’d delved into something far more personal.

  Really personal.

  What had possessed him to ask her about things she loved?

  It had been obvious that he’d taken her off guard.

  Then he’d gone and used her fork. He’d known doing something so personal and unexpected would make her uncomfortable. But he’d done it anyway.

  Who in the world even did things like that? One would think he’d actually been in prison for the last two years, the way he was behaving. His parents might have done a lot of things wrong, but they had taught him the basics of getting along with others. He did know the correct way to behave.

  If he didn’t learn to apply some self-control around Waneta Cain, he was going to do or say something to make her wary enough to complain to Henry about him.

  He wouldn’t blame her if she did that, either. She had every right to complain if the new employee was making her uncomfortable. Then Henry would have to make a decision about whether to keep him on or not. And if it came down to choosing him or her?

  Well, he knew who Henry would ask to stay.

  Mark would be out of a job so fast, he wouldn’t know what hit him.

  He needed this job, too. He wanted to live in Horse Cave and fix up his old house. He wanted to show everyone in the area that he really was better than they believed him to be. He wanted to show himself that very same thing. He should be doing everything he possibly could to keep this job and make Henry glad he took a chance hiring him. He should be working hard and keeping his head down. Not acting too forward and familiar with Waneta Cain.

  As he continued walking home, taking time to notice that several people were on their front porches and watching him walk by, he analyzed their lunch some more.

  And realized that Waneta had actually stopped being nervous for a little bit. She’d even smiled at him, too. It hadn’t looked strained, either. Instead, it had seemed genuine.

  It had made him feel good inside. Almost too good, because it had even made him imagine that he could have a chance with her one day.

  For a while there, they’d talked, and their conversation hadn’t been stilted or full of long, awkward silences. Instead, it had been easy. Almost relaxed.

  He’d felt something happening between them and it felt an awful lot like acceptance. Acceptance was something he hadn’t felt in years.

  It also wasn’t something that he’d experienced in a long time. Maybe that meant that they could eventually be friends. Maybe even more than friends.

  “Mark Fisher, is that you?”

  Stopping, he turned to see Lora Weaver walking right behind him. “Lora?”

  She nodded and smiled, increasing her pace.

  Mark didn’t even try to hide his surprise. Lora had been his female counterpart in Horse Cave when they were growing up. Both of them had sad home lives that they tried desperately to keep hidden. Her father had taken off when she was just a toddler, ignoring both his marriage vows and promises to the church. His actions had left Lora’s mom alone with four children, no income, and a fierce depression.

  Lora used to shyly admit that on some days their mother never got out of bed. As the years passed, Lora took on more responsibility for her younger siblings and became bitter and angry during the week, and more than a little wild during the weekends.

  She’d always said she was going to leave Hart County the first day she could, and never look back. She’d done that, too. She left when she was sixteen or thereabouts.

  “I sure never thought I’d see you again,” she said when she reached his side.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you. I canna believe you are here.”

  “I know.” Looking sheepish, she continued. “I swore I’d never come back if it was the last place on earth. But, here I am.”

  “You moved back?” He didn’t even try to hide his astonishment.

  She lifted one shoulder. “I did. Fourteen months ago.” Her voice drifted off. “I suppose everyone does things at one time or another that they never intended.”

  Though he agreed, he thought she was generalizing her return a little too lightly. Lora had been vocal about her disdain for their hometown.

  But he didn’t have any desire to hurt her feelings. “It’s all part of life, I guess,” he murmured. “Maybe.”

  “Jah. Maybe.” When she smiled in a condescending way, he studied her. She was wearing dark-washed jeans and a snug-fitting black tank top. Bright-blue bra straps directed his eye to her shoulders. Worn rubber flip-flops were on her feet. Her toenails were painted dark purple and she had a couple of silver earrings in each ear. She looked good. Free-spirited.

  Pretty much like any other English girl about her age.

  And the complete opposite of Waneta. “Why did you come back? What happened?” he asked.

  “That’s the same question I was going to ask you.”

  “Henry told me that he’d heard that I inherited my parents’ old house and decided to come back and live there.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Really? I would have thought you would have wanted to stay as far away from there as possible.”

  “It’s paid for.” He also wasn’t willing to give up on his life here. Though his home life had been so bad, there was still a stubborn part of him that kept hoping to make things better. It was how he’d survived his childhood.

  Hearing from Henry had felt like a sign, too. He’d secretly felt like the Lord was telling him that it was time to return to his past and make things better.

  Maybe even transform it?

  When he returned, he’d met with Preacher Eli and gotten baptized. Then he decided to transform the house, just like he’d been seeking to transform himself.

  Then there was Henry. Henry needed him and Mark craved the man’s love like a child craved a mother’s arms.

  Lora nodded. “Makes sense. Paid for is good.”

  “What about you?” he asked again, since she still hadn’t answered his question. “Why did you come back? I thought you were long gone.”

  “I was.” Her lips thinned. “It’s a long story, but I guess it’s enough to say that I discovered that the big world ain’t all that easy.” She paused. “But things have been good here. I’m working over at Bill’s Diner.”

  “I was there last night. I didn’t see you, though.”

  “I had the night off. You’ll have to come back soon. I’ll introduce you to the other waitresses there. Everyone’s real nice.”

  “I’m glad you are happy at your job. Hey, where are you living? In your old place, too?”

  “I am,
if you can believe that. My youngest sister, Beth, is pretty much my mother’s favorite. She married an Amish man and lives on a forty-acre farm. Mamm lives with her and helps mind their six kinner. My other sister Amanda lived in the house until she and her husband could afford a bigger place. So she gave it to me. I’m the charity case.”

  “What about your other sister? I forget her name.”

  Lora’s expression shuttered. “Martha died.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She lifted her shoulder again. “Her death is a long story.”

  “She get cancer or something?”

  “Nee.” Sounding strained, she said, “In a nutshell, Martha managed to get into even more trouble than me. We all thought something bad would happen to her one day. We were right.”

  Martha’s story reminded him of Calvin. And that, of course, put him on edge. He was trying to move forward. To make something of himself. To create a new reputation. Not rehash and relive all the bad ones.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he awkwardly stepped back. “Well, ah, good to see you. I’ve been working all day and I’m a sweaty mess. I’d best be getting on home.”

  “I understand. Do you mind if we walk a little further together? I pass your street on the way to my place.”

  Her offer made perfect sense and Lora had been nothing but pleasant—unlike the majority of the people at Bill’s last night. So he didn’t understand why he suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Yeah, sure.”

  Looking pleased, she started walking. As he stayed by her side, she began pointing out different people’s houses. He listened and looked with only the smallest bit of interest. He didn’t remember most of the people she named. He wasn’t sure what to do with the information she was handing him, either.

  “That place now belongs to the Swartz family,” she said. “Remember Daniel?”

  “Jah. You had a crush on him something awful.”

  “Oh, that. That didn’t mean anything.”

  “You sure? ’Cause I kind of remember you mooning over him one Sunday evening at a singing.”

  “I didn’t.” She laughed. “All right, you caught me. I mean I didn’t moon over him too much.”

  He grinned, finally feeling more relaxed. “I’m glad you called out to me, Lora. This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in a week.”

  “Really? Now that’s a shame. You always were so nice.” Her gaze landed on him fondly before drifting to the street. “Unlike some people.”

  Wondering who she was referring to, he gazed at the street.

  And saw Waneta riding her bicycle, her tote bag and little cooler in the basket behind her seat.

  He froze, just as she glanced his way. Their eyes met for a long moment before she looked nervously at Lora, then turned her head as she rode on.

  Seeing him with Lora had obviously made Waneta uncomfortable. He wondered if it was Lora herself or the fact that he was out walking with her.

  “It must be pretty hard to go through life as perfect and holier-than-thou as Waneta Cain,” Lora muttered.

  Mark frowned. She’d stretched out Waneta’s name so it had sounded awkward and almost like a whine.

  “That ain’t fair. She’s a nice woman.”

  “Oh, she’s nice, all right. Nice to the right people. Not nice to people like you and me.”

  “I work with her,” he said. “She’s been nothing but kind to me.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Really? Well, if she is, then that is surely an accomplishment. Waneta don’t give too many people the time of day. Especially people she thinks are beneath her.”

  Mark hated that Lora was speaking so disparagingly about her. “You’re being awfully harsh. Waneta hasn’t been like that to me. Henry Lehmann thinks the world of her.”

  “Huh. Well, she’s looked right through me more than once. If she’s treating you different, it must be because she feels sorry for ya or something.”

  He didn’t like anything Lora was saying. Not the insinuation that Waneta wasn’t kind. Not how she was implying that she wasn’t as good a person as Waneta. “My house is down the street,” he said abruptly. “See you, Lora.”

  Looking puzzled, she stopped and stared at him. “That’s it?”

  “Jah. I told you I was going home.”

  “Oh.” As if she was summoning a smile, she said brightly, “Hey, you know what? It’s Friday night. What are you doing for the rest of it? Want some company?”

  He wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, but he wasn’t ready to give it. He knew he wasn’t in the right mindset to tackle Lora’s animosity toward Waneta. “Nee. I just want to relax. See you later, Lora.”

  Hurt filled her gaze. “Oh. Well, um, yeah . . . sure. Bye, Mark.”

  As he turned down his street, he glanced up at the sky. What had that been about, God? Did you need me to remember my past and how far apart I was from Waneta?

  Passing house after house, most looking bigger and more cleaned up and taken care of than he remembered, he thought of something else. Maybe the Lord was telling him the exact opposite. Maybe He had brought Lora into Mark’s life to show just how far he’d come from his childhood, both physically and emotionally.

  No longer did he have to be judged by his past, or by factors that had always been out of his control. Instead, he could present himself to be the man he’d always hoped he could get to be. He could show people like Waneta just how much he had changed.

  Now, that was a good thought. A promising thought. Something to give praise for.

  Feeling almost happy, Mark walked up his steps, pulled out his house key, and grabbed the mail from the box on the edge of the porch. This was normal. He had nothing to fear but his memories. Everything was going to be all right.

  And as for Lora? Well, he’d just have to do a little bit of praying and thinking about that. Maybe she’d been reaching out to him because she only needed a friend.

  Or maybe she needed some guidance and he was the best person to offer it to her. If that was the case, he would do his best to be the person she needed him to be.

  When he walked in, he released a ragged sigh. At least he was home alone now. For the rest of the evening, he was going to do his best to forget about everything but eating a big supper and relaxing on the back porch. It had been a hard, hot week.

  But just as he was about to sit down and sift through the mail, he noticed that some cushions from his couch were displaced. The book he’d left on the side table had been flipped over.

  Hurrying to the kitchen, he saw that one of the four chairs around the table had been moved. The paper and yesterday’s mail was scattered on the counter as well.

  Someone had been in his house while he’d been working and they hadn’t been shy about letting him know that.

  Who could it have been?

  CHAPTER 7

  Friday, August 5

  Stuffing her fingertips into the front pockets of her jeans, Lora watched Mark as he walked away from her. She tried not to let his refusal to spend more time together get her down. But it still did.

  She wondered what had set him off. At first he’d seemed genuinely happy to see her. Then, in an abrupt turnaround, he acted as if he was embarrassed that he even knew her name. What had she done wrong? Had she pushed too hard to connect with him again? Though the girls at work didn’t seem to mind when she asked them questions or shared personal information, it might have been too forward for a private man like Mark.

  Or maybe it was that they’d both changed too much. Mark was even more subdued than he had been as a boy. Then, of course, she was now obviously no longer Amish.

  That seemed like a better guess. Mark Fisher always had been so straight and upstanding. He liked to follow the rules and liked it when other people did that, too. She’d always thought Mark cared more than most about how things looked. He never had liked it when things were out of order.

  Not even when he was just nine or ten years old.

  No matter what his p
arents did and no matter how much he looked like he’d needed a few solid meals and a fresh change of clothes, Mark had always acted as if he’d come from the best, most proper family in the county. Well, he’d tried to pretend that, though everyone knew his home life wasn’t any better than hers.

  Maybe he was afraid renewing their friendship would taint him somehow. That being seen with her would ruin his reputation, such that it was. Lora hoped that wasn’t the case, but she could see that happening.

  Calvin used to joke about his big brother, saying Mark was rebelling by being everything good since their parents were so bad. Lora would roll her eyes at statements like that, but she’d secretly admired Mark for wanting to be someone better than the people who’d raised him.

  She’d thought it was admirable, but not necessarily possible. ’Course, she’d also done her share of pretending when she was a child. She’d told herself that living in a broken-down house with a broken-down mother wasn’t so bad. She’d even got real good at pretending not to notice the looks of disdain half the population of Horse Cave shot her way when she and her sisters would wander around town late at night, doing anything to avoid going home. Sometimes she found she could even ignore other kids’ cruel taunts about her ill-fitting clothes and missing father.

  But as far as forgetting . . . well, that had been another story. She still woke up once or twice a month in a panic, cruel words and taunts ringing in her head from people like Bethany Williams.

  Even now, thinking about Bethany made Lora cringe. She’d had the face of an angel, and the ability to convince every adult in the county that her soul was just as pure. Lora knew from experience that it wasn’t. Lora had been skilled at delivering snide comments under her breath. Her victims would be hurt, but would be too afraid of her retaliation to ever speak up.

  Though she’d kept her opinions to herself, Lora had been sure that Mark hadn’t been the man who’d assaulted her. Bethany had been too willful and erratic for Mark. He had avoided her at all costs.