His Guilt

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His Guilt Page 5

by Shelley Shepard Gray


  Shaking her head, she shoved all thoughts of Bethany away. That was in the past and she was doing her best to focus on the present. She needed to continue to count her blessings. She was back in Horse Cave and she was doing okay.

  When her sister Amanda had called to offer her the house, Lora hadn’t even acted like she wasn’t grateful. Losing Martha to a drug overdose had been horrible. Discovering that she’d been living in a dirty room in downtown Cincinnati the last months of her life had been a blow to all of them.

  Now she and her two remaining sisters were trying their best to forge a new relationship together. She didn’t have much in common with them, but they’d all learned how difficult it was to dwell only on each other’s differences.

  Even their mother was trying to make amends for the damage she’d done to all of them.

  While Lora doubted she’d ever be able to completely forgive her, Lora was able to at least share a meal with her every once in a while.

  When her house was in sight, Lora let her thoughts drift back to Mark. Reflecting on their conversation, she realized that Mark’s demeanor had changed the moment Waneta Cain rode by. It was obvious now that he was anxious to put some distance between them.

  What was it about Waneta that he admired so much? When Lora shared her feelings about the woman, Mark jumped to Waneta’s defense like a Doberman.

  Actually, he’d defended Waneta like someone who was a very close friend, mentioning all of her qualities again and again. It didn’t seem like he agreed with anything Lora was saying about Waneta. It was as if he didn’t remember anything about their past; didn’t remember how the two of them used to walk home together with twin feelings of dread while girls like Waneta barely looked their way.

  Could Mark really have forgotten the way Waneta and her friends would giggle at Lora and her sisters—when they weren’t ignoring them? How Waneta had gotten new dresses and backpacks and school supplies all the time? How she’d brought enormous lunches in her pail every day? How she’d share only with her friends while he and Lora went hungry?

  Surely, he hadn’t forgotten that!

  But it hadn’t seemed to matter. It was almost like he was sweet on Waneta. Maybe he was, she realized with a sinking feeling. Maybe Mark had decided to set his sights up high and he didn’t want to associate with people like Lora when he could align himself with innocent girls like Waneta.

  Lora trudged up her front porch steps and took a seat in one of the three white wicker chairs that Amanda had bought when she lived there.

  Only when she sat down did she notice poor Katie Eicher gardening in her front flower beds. She was on her hands and knees, painstakingly pulling weeds in her vegetable garden. She looked hot, sweaty, and tired.

  Like she usually did, except when she went to church.

  James, her husband, was a bully. There really was no other name for it. Lora heard him yell at Katie often. He wasn’t shy about it. He certainly never attempted to keep their private life private. For what seemed—to Lora at least—increasingly dumb reasons, James would deride his wife, put her down.

  It was hard to hear and even more difficult to watch.

  Looking over at her, Lora sensed that Katie was trying her best to get the gardening done before her husband came home. Remembering the pot of sun tea she’d made two days before, Lora went inside and filled two Mason jars with ice, the strong tea, and two generous spoonfuls of sugar. Then, before she thought better of it, she walked across the street.

  Taking care to keep her voice relaxed and friendly, she smiled wide. “Hiya, Katie, I brought you a glass of tea.”

  When Katie looked up, Lora almost gasped. One of Katie’s eyes was swollen shut. The skin surrounding it was black and blue. “Oh, Katie. That has to hurt,” she said.

  Gingerly, Katie pressed one hand to her face. “It ain’t so bad,” she said in a rush. “Is it?”

  Not knowing what to say that wouldn’t make Katie feel worse, Lora settled for holding out one of the jars. “Would you like some?”

  “Danke. It’s warm out here. I was getting thirsty.” She took a long sip, then another one. “It’s gut tea, Lora. You always do such a good job with that.”

  “It’s only sun tea.”

  “Mine never tastes as good.” Katie smiled, then seemed to recall herself. “I had better finish up my chores. James will be home soon.”

  It was pretty obvious that her neighbor was worried about getting everything done before her husband returned. “Do you need some help?” she asked. She didn’t mind. The work would also serve to help keep her mind off her conversation with Mark.

  “Doing what?”

  “Weeding?” Katie looked so surprised, Lora chuckled. “Just because I’m not dressed Amish and don’t keep a garden don’t mean that I’ve never tended one. I can pull weeds as well as anyone.”

  “Oh. Of course.” Biting her bottom lip, Katie gazed at her garden. “Well, now . . . thank you, but I’ll be all right.”

  “Do you not want my help? Or is something else bothering you?”

  Katie pressed her hand to her face again. “I shouldn’t really talk about it.”

  There was her opening. She needed to say something about her face. She needed to know that even though they weren’t especially close, Lora cared and wanted to help. Kneeling down, she looked directly at her. “Katie, when did that happen? Last night or this morning?”

  Keeping her eyes averted, she nervously pressed a hand to her cheek again. “This morning.” Lowering her hand, she looked at Lora directly. “I guess it really does look bad. Ain’t so?”

  “I’m more concerned about how you are faring instead of how you look.” When Katie seemed confused, Lora said, “Your cheek is really swollen and your eye looks worse than bloodshot. Can you see out of it?”

  “Kind of.”

  “You know, something could be really wrong. Do you think you need to go to the doctor? If so, I’ll help you get an appointment. I’ll go with you, too.”

  She paled. “I don’t need to see the doktah.” Raising a hand, her next words tumbled out in a rush. “Please, don’t worry. I’ll be okay. Hopefully my face will look much better by Sunday.”

  Lora knew now that if Katie’s swelling hadn’t gone down or if her eye wasn’t completely back to normal by church, then Katie would simply stay home. “I want to help you. Will you let me?”

  “Help? With what?”

  “With everything. Do you feel safe at home?”

  Abruptly, Katie set the Mason jar on the ground. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Lora wasn’t in the mood to go through the motions and pretend that Katie hurt her eye by walking into a wall or some other sort of nonsense.

  But she also didn’t know her well enough to be completely direct with her and say that she knew James hurt her. So she simply shrugged. “I think you do know what I mean, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

  Looking frazzled, Katie thrust the jar into her hands. “Here. Thank you for bringing it to me, but now I must get back to work.”

  “Just because you don’t want to talk about your eye doesn’t mean you can’t drink my tea. Does it?” Attempting to smile, she said, “How about I help you weed for a while?” Scanning the garden, she said, “I’ll take the row of squash.”

  “You had better not,” she said in a rush. “James would get upset.”

  “Why? He doesn’t want you to have help?”

  “He wouldn’t want me to have you in our yard.”

  Not even to weed? “Why is that?” she asked slowly. “Is it because I’m not Amish?”

  If anything, Katie looked even more worried. “That is one of the reasons.” After darting a glance down their empty street, she stepped toward her door. “Now, I’m sorry, but I really must go. Good-bye.”

  When she turned her back again, Lora felt as if she’d been rejected for the second time in less than an hour. It seemed that no matter what happened, she wasn’t good enough
company. Not even good enough company to pull weeds.

  Feeling more tired than ever, she got back on her feet and carried the two jars back to her house.

  After she looked inside, she looked around. It was still silent, too big, and empty. She had returned even though she’d promised herself never to return. And suddenly, it was too much. The quiet. The memories. The time. She needed a way not to think of it for a while.

  Thinking a six-pack of beer and maybe a bottle of tequila would take the edge off, she stuffed a couple of bills in her back pocket and left again.

  She didn’t bother turning the lock. No one would come to her house unless they had no other options.

  She was living proof of that.

  CHAPTER 8

  Sunday, August 7

  What did you think about Preacher Eli’s sermon?” June Gingerich asked Waneta as they helped to clean the four long tables that had been set up to serve the church luncheon. “It was pretty forceful, don’tcha think? Preacher Eli doesn’t usually sound so stern.”

  Waneta nodded as she considered her friend’s statement. In her usual way, June had focused on the heart of the matter. “I thought he was going to start calling out names, he was so upset about how some folks were acting. It caught me off guard. I’ve hardly ever seen him without a smile on his face. Who knew he could be so solemn?”

  “He’s been solemn with me when I’ve gotten counseling,” June said. “But he never seemed like he was actually mad at me.” Lowering her voice, she added, “I overheard two women say that they thought he was treating them like naughty kinner. They really weren’t happy.”

  “I know his sermon probably caused quite a few people to be uncomfortable, but I think his stern manner was necessary,” Waneta whispered. After darting a look around to make sure no one could hear, she added, “After all, there are some people here who certainly do need a talking to. Forgiveness is something we should all take seriously. It’s one of the backbones of our lives, after all.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t think Eli was simply talking about forgiveness.” After bending down to pick up a couple of stray napkins that had fallen, June lowered her voice. “I think he was actually talking about Mark Fisher. I think he was telling us that we should all try to forgive him.”

  After double-checking that Mark was out of earshot, Waneta nodded. “I think that’s who Preacher Eli was talking about, too. Mark has returned and he wants to be part of our church community. It is wrong for some people to treat him like he has the plague.”

  June shook her head. “I hear what you’re saying, but I think you are being a bit too generous, Neeta. What Preacher Eli said was shocking. He offended a lot of people. Why, I thought my mother was going to bite her tongue, she was trying so hard to keep her feelings to herself.”

  “Since all those ladies are currently gathering in a tight circle, I don’t think she waited too long,” Waneta said drily.

  June shrugged. “Who can blame them?”

  “Mark deserves forgiveness. I, for one, would hate to come back to my parents’ haus with a cloud hanging over me. I really would hate to realize that nobody wanted me to be there, too.”

  “I would hate that, too. But what if they are right? What if he really is a dangerous criminal?”

  Moving to the third table, Waneta shook her head. “He’s not. What you are hearing is merely malicious gossip. It doesn’t have any truth to it.”

  “But what if it does? After all, a lot of people don’t want Mark here. A lot of people whose opinions I respect.”

  “So?”

  “So? Well, so many people can’t be wrong.”

  Waneta felt a bit like she was on a sinking ship and trying her hardest to bail out the water with a measuring cup. But still, she had to hold firm. Mark needed support. “I think differently. So does Preacher Eli.”

  Leaning closer, June said, “A lot of people, me included, even worry about you working with him at the nursery. I don’t have a good feeling about that. I’m worried you are going to really regret it.”

  “Please don’t. I’ve worked with Mark a whole week now. So far, he’s been a real gut worker. He’s also been a lot of help. Mr. Lehmann needed someone strong and able to help him.”

  “I thought Henry hired Mark because he felt sorry for him.”

  Privately, she didn’t think it mattered why Henry Lehmann hired Mark. Even if he had only hired him at first because he’d felt sorry for him, Mark had more than proved his worth, even during the few days he’d been there.

  “June, what matters is that everyone needs to take Preacher Eli’s words to heart. What he said was important. And true.” She felt so passionate, her voice rose. “We all need to stop judging others and casting stones. We also all need to seek forgiveness. I’ve witnessed some people be unkind to Mark at the nursery. My mother said that everyone was looking at him and gossiping at Bill’s, too.”

  After she wiped down the last table, June braced a hand on her hip. “You sure sound high and mighty on his account.”

  Stung by her tone, Neeta paused. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, I never figured you would be attempting to go against the rest of us for someone like Mark Fisher,” she retorted, dismay heavy in her voice.

  “Mark can’t help where he came from.”

  “My parents said that more problems are going to happen around here now that he’s back.”

  “They don’t know that.”

  “And you don’t know that they’re wrong, either.” Sounding more sure of herself, she said, “Waneta, I think you should start looking for another job.”

  “June!”

  “I’m only trying to help you,” she said, then looked just beyond Neeta. “I’m only trying to make sure you are being cautious and careful.”

  It was more than obvious now that June hadn’t taken anything from Preacher Eli’s sermon to heart. “I think you are being judgmental. You are casting stones without a care about who they hurt. I think you are making a big mistake and that you are going to regret it,” Waneta bit out, anger thick in her voice. “I look forward to the day you realize that, too.”

  “I guess you’ve made your choice,” June said in a huff. “Now it’s only a matter of time before he hurts you. When that happens and you realize how reckless you’ve been, come find me. We’ll talk then.”

  Waneta stared in shock as June picked up two plastic containers filled with leftover lunchmeat and walked away.

  What had just happened? One minute, June had seemed truly concerned. The next, they were going back and forth, debating Mark’s character. No, it seemed they were debating their own characters, too. And their families’. How had everything gotten so bad so quickly?

  “Do you want me to go talk to her?”

  Startled, Neeta turned to find Mark looking directly at her, his dark eyes seeming to take in everything she was feeling. “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough to know that I was the focus of your discussion. And enough to realize that she didn’t agree with your perception of me.”

  “I’m sorry. June likes to share what’s on her mind. She ain’t always right, though.”

  “Don’t apologize for her words. You can’t take on how other people feel or make them change their minds if they don’t want to.”

  “I guess not.” Scanning the crowd, she searched for her best friend. She was nowhere to be seen. “I’m surprised, though. June is a really gut friend.”

  “I’m sure she is. But fear does strange things to people.”

  “Well, she shouldn’t be afraid. There’s no one in Horse Cave who is going to hurt her.”

  “If you’re talking about me, you’re right,” he said lightly. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

  “I was standing up for you because it was the right thing to do. I’m frustrated about how much people don’t seem to be able to let go of the past.”

  “It’s understandable. The past can be a difficu
lt thing to let go of.”

  Just as she was about to answer, Waneta saw her father approach, her mother following about twenty steps behind. Bracing herself, she mumbled under her breath, “Here come my parents. Whatever they say, I want you to know I’m sorry.”

  Mark’s eyes warmed just as her father said, “Neeta, your mother and I are about ready to leave. Are you?”

  “Can you give me a couple of minutes? I was talking to Mark.”

  Her father smiled. “We’ve been talking, too.”

  They had? Fearing that she was just about to subject him to a whole list of invasive questions, Neeta eyed both men. “Were you discussing anything special?”

  “Nee. We were only getting to know each other.”

  A flash of surprise entered Mark’s eyes before he composed himself. “Don’t look so worried, Neeta. Everything is fine.”

  Right then, her mother joined them. “Hi, Mark. We know each other, but you might not remember me. I used to help out at your school from time to time.”

  “I remember.”

  Her mother smiled. “Then you know that I’m Gettie Cain. Waneta’s mother.”

  Before Waneta could give her mother a meaningful look, Mark said, “Danke. Nice to meet you as well, Gettie.”

  Then her daed shared a look with her mother and said, “Mark, do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

  “Not really. I had planned to work on the house. I’m trying to clean it out.”

  “Jah. I imagine that is a big job. But Sunday is for rest, not work. Why don’t you come over and spend a few hours at our house? Stay for supper. We’re barbecuing cheeseburgers today.”

  Mark was wearing an expression Neeta hadn’t seen on his face before. He looked nonplussed. “W-Well . . .” he stuttered as he glanced in her direction. “I’m not sure . . .”

  He was doing that for her benefit, Waneta realized. In case she didn’t want him there. “I hope you accept,” she interjected. “My father grills the cheeseburgers. They’re very good. And my mother planted more vegetables than you can count, in pots all along the back porch and patio. The tomatoes and peppers have gone crazy! It’s something to see.”

 

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