“If he did, he didn’t tell me. I have not seen him.”
“At all?”
That moment flashed back in his mind. Of sitting on Waneta’s porch. Of her quietly flirting with him. Then, of him glancing up and seeing Calvin staring at him.
And Calvin staring at Waneta.
It had taken everything he’d had to not go over to Calvin and yell at him to go away.
He’d kept a tight lid on his self-control. If he hadn’t, he would have opened himself to being hurt again—allowing himself hope that Calvin would want to see him again; that his brother might say he missed him. Or that he wanted to get to know him again.
Or that he’d wanted to say he was sorry for the things he’d done.
But Mark’s heart, which had been stomped on too many times, guided him that day.
“I did see him recently. Yesterday. However, we didn’t talk.”
Sheriff Brewer’s expression sharpened. “What happened?”
“I saw him from a distance.” Haltingly, he added, “I think he wanted me to stop what I was doing and rush over to talk to him.”
“But you didn’t?”
Mark shook his head. “I ignored him. Turned away. The next time I looked up, he was gone.” That was almost the truth, anyway.
“Where were you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Sheriff Brewer was a master at asking questions in that slow, Kentucky drawl. He could look humble and sleepy while asking difficult and uncomfortable questions. Against his will, Mark felt his skin start prickling and his upper back start sweating.
“I was at Waneta Cain’s haus,” he said. Not because he wanted to share where he was, but because he knew he had no choice. Sheriff Brewer would find out anyhow.
“So she could vouch for you?”
“Vouch for what? I went to church on Sunday morning, then spent several hours with Waneta and her family that afternoon.”
“And after that?”
“After that, I didn’t do anything special. I just went home.”
“Could Waneta or her parents vouch for seeing him as well?”
This was turning painful. So uncomfortable, he was wondering if he should be asking if he needed a lawyer. “I don’t think any of them saw him,” Mark said slowly. “Calvin was lurking near a cove of trees. He didn’t want to be seen.” Well, not by anyone but him.
Sheriff Brewer’s expression brightened. “Lurking, you say?”
“Like I just said, Calvin didn’t want to be seen by Waneta or her parents,” Mark said, each word now tinged with frustration. “Only by me.”
“Why do you think that is?” asked the sheriff.
“I don’t know.” Feeling even more frustrated, he said, “Look, I don’t understand why you are asking me all of these questions or why you’ve chosen to talk to me here. Do you not trust me? Are you trying to make sure everyone here doesn’t forget about my past?”
“None of those things.” After the sheriff wiped his brow again, he stuffed the white handkerchief in a back pocket. “I was hoping for your help, that’s all . . .
“I would help if I could. I haven’t kept up with Lora or Calvin, but even I had heard that she’d changed. The things you are saying are disturbing.”
“I think so, too. She swore up and down that the drugs were his. If that’s the truth, then I want to talk to him.”
“Which is the real reason you are here,” Mark said.
“I am. Drugs are a bad enough problem in Hart County without someone new coming in and bringing more. If he’s bringing Lora pot, he could be bringing much worse to other people in the county. I aim to put a stop to it.”
Mark swallowed. This conversation was getting worse and worse. Now he was not only worried about his reputation, but he was concerned about his brother . . . and how Calvin would feel if Mark had to be the one to catch him and bring him in. “If I see him, I’ll let you know.”
Sheriff Brewer visibly relaxed. “Thank you. I’m sorry to come here to see you, but I honestly didn’t think you’d have a problem with it. I only wanted some answers as quickly as possible.”
“So, you still believe I am innocent of Bethany’s assault?”
The sheriff looked at him curiously. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have let you go if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure you had nothing to do with it, Mark. I don’t believe you are innocent, I know you are.” After glancing in Henry’s direction and tipping his hat, he said, “I came here to get answers. That’s all.”
Mark looked in the man’s eyes and saw complete honesty there. The sheriff was telling the truth and asking him for help. And because of that, he knew what he needed to do. “I’ll help you if I can. Calvin may be my brother by birth, but we don’t mean much to each other anymore,” he said, though he feared that wasn’t the truth. “I want to stay here. I care about this community, too. I aim to settle in, marry one day and have children here. I don’t want it to be a place where I’m worried about my brother hitting women or peddling drugs.”
“I appreciate it.” After handing him his card, he said, “Take this and call me if you find out anything. Anything at all.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Mark said.
After Mark stood and watched the sheriff’s vehicle disappear, he walked back to Henry, who was standing alone at the checkout counter. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Everything all right?” Henry asked.
“Jah.” He was tempted to say something more, but how could he? Waneta was just beginning to trust him. If he did say more, and Henry inadvertently told Waneta that Mark had seen Calvin creeping around her property, watching her and him, it would ruin every bit of the trust he’d gained from her over the last week.
“Though it ain’t my business, I hope Sheriff Brewer was being fair with ya.”
“He was.” Clearing his throat, Mark added, “He had some questions about my brother.”
“Calvin?”
“Jah. He fears Calvin has returned to Hart County.”
Henry’s brows furrowed. “Fears seems like a pretty strong word to describe a brother’s return.”
“It’s fitting, though. I’m afraid he hasn’t changed much over the years.”
Henry’s gaze sharpened. “You sound as if you know that for a fact. Do you?”
“Nee. I am only saying that because of what the sheriff said.” That sense of unease he’d experienced earlier returned. Was he now being too cautious? Was he now judging Calvin based on a couple of rumors . . . just like so many people in the area judged him?
Henry’s expression didn’t smooth, but Mark didn’t have any more time to worry about that because several customers came up needing help all at the same time.
Later, as he rang up one customer’s seedlings and another’s fruits and vegetables, Henry chatting with each one as if they were long-lost friends, Mark began to feel like he’d just made a terrible mistake.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure who he’d just made that mistake with. Was it with the sheriff, Henry, or Waneta?
Or, maybe, it was with his brother. What if Calvin had changed after all?
What if he’d come to find him and had hoped that Mark would help him in some way? What if he hadn’t wanted a thing, he’d only wanted to reconnect and Mark had turned his back on him? And then, feeling bad because his brother hadn’t given him the time of day, Calvin had sought Lora Weaver out?
A slow line of dread filled him at the thought. Here, he’d been so upset and felt betrayed because he’d wanted the community to give him another shot. To give him a chance to prove that he was worth more than they’d ever believed him to be. What if he had done the very same thing to his little brother?
He hoped that wasn’t the case. But if it was, he feared he had just made a terrible mistake that he was going to be paying for in the days and weeks to come.
CHAPTER 13
Monday Evening
I don’t understand why you think we need to talk again,” Lora said as she led Sherif
f Brewer and Deputy Beck to the screened porch located at the back of her house. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Other than create a public disturbance and smoke pot?” Sheriff Brewer asked with more than a small amount of sarcasm in his tone.
Glad her back was to him, Lora grimaced. She hated that she’d messed up yet again. Though she now lived the majority of her days in a way she was proud of, she still sometimes slipped. She certainly had Sunday night.
That said, she wasn’t sure why her actions necessitated not one but two visits from the sheriff. It seemed a little excessive. Because of that, she was worried. They knew something she didn’t, putting her at a disadvantage.
But showing weakness wasn’t going to help anything. It hadn’t when she was a little girl, and it hadn’t when she’d been living on her own in northern Kentucky. Her only option was to brazen it out. Otherwise, these men would continue to view her as weak and maybe even try to take advantage of her.
As they entered the cool and comfortable screened porch, she looked over her shoulder at them. “First of all, we already discussed this. I’ve apologized for causing a disturbance. And the pot is gone. You know that.” Focusing on the deputy, she hardened her voice. “You walked through the whole place even though I said several times that I didn’t have any in the house. After I told you again and again that it wasn’t mine.”
“You’re right. The house was clear,” the deputy murmured.
Honestly, the deputy sounded as if he had suspected there was a meth lab down in the basement. Huh. It seemed he thought even less of her than she’d imagined. She sighed. “You know what? If we were in Washington State or Colorado, a Baggie of pot wouldn’t be a concern.”
“But we aren’t there, are we?” Deputy Beck asked.
Wincing, she closed her eyes. For some reason, hearing the derision in the deputy’s voice hurt even worse than hearing it from the sheriff.
Probably because Deputy Eddie Beck looked so composed and perfect. He had a lanky build and tanned arms. His hair was bleached from the sun. She remembered hearing something at the diner about him being really outdoorsy. He liked to camp and hike, and fish and ski. He had clear light-green eyes and an easy smile. All the girls at Bill’s fanned themselves when they saw him walk inside. He smiled and charmed them all. Not her, though.
No, he wasn’t smiling at all. Instead, he was examining her in a professional way. Like she was a witness to a crime. Or a piece of evidence he needed to transport to the lab.
He was eyeing her exactly the way he had late last night, like she was simply one more person he had to talk to as part of his job.
Seeing his expression made her squirm inside. All of her bad decisions from over the last few years came rushing back. She’d thought the recent changes she’d made might have balanced them out, but they didn’t.
Not at all. At least not to him. Had she come this far just to be viewed as a loser girl all over again? After gesturing for them to have a seat on one of the brightly colored chairs that her sister Amanda and her husband had purchased before moving away, she decided to throw out all her ideas of acting cool and aloof.
She was too scared and too nervous to put on an act. She also had too much to lose. She needed to be as open and honest with the sheriff and his deputy as she possibly could.
Once she also sat down in the comfy chair, she said, “What has happened? Did something else happen that I haven’t heard about?”
“We’ll talk about that, Lora. But first, how are you feeling?” Sheriff Brewer asked.
She shrugged. “All right.”
“Your bruises look worse,” Deputy Beck murmured. “Are you in pain?”
She was hurting, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She pressed a palm to her bruised and swollen cheek. “I’m all right.”
Shifting, he pulled out his phone. “Want me to find you a doctor? I can take you.”
Lora was shocked. He was acting as if he cared about her. They both were. “I don’t need a doctor. Like I told you last night, my face hurts, but my pride hurts worse.”
The deputy stiffened. “Your pride? Why? Are you embarrassed?”
“Well, yes.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Calvin Fisher is at fault. Only him. Not you,” he added with emphasis. “He shouldn’t have raised a hand to you. There is no scenario where that is okay.”
He sounded so sure, so emphatic, she wasn’t certain how to respond. Clearing her throat, she said, “Is that the reason y’all stopped by? Because you were interested to see how I was feeling?”
“No,” Deputy Beck said.
After exchanging a look with each other, Sheriff Brewer spoke. “Lora, here’s the deal. We know you had Calvin over here. We know you had your own little party. We know you fought and he hit you. And we know he left soon after.” His voice hardened. “But what we don’t know is where he is now.”
“Like I told you last night, I don’t know where Calvin is either.”
“You positive about that?” Deputy Beck asked.
She hated this so much. Had they only pretended to care so she’d lower her guard? “I’m very positive.” When his expression didn’t change, she threw the remains of her composure on the floor. “Deputy Beck, it’s obvious that you don’t think very highly of me. I know we have completely different backgrounds. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I know I’ve even done things you would never even think about doing. But that doesn’t make me a liar.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“It’s pretty obvious that you don’t believe me.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t know what to believe.” He flushed. “Cases like this are hard for me. I get too emotionally involved. I can’t help it, though. I hate men who beat up girls.”
“Even girls like me?” she whispered. Because she had heard it before. After she’d run away, she’d found herself in a whole lot of bad areas, surrounded by lots of people who were used to breaking rules. She’d gotten hurt before. Once, even bad enough to have to go to the emergency room.
But even there, the orderlies and nurses seemed to judge her. They’d stopped short of saying she got what she deserved, but they insinuated it.
Looking even more frustrated, the deputy sighed. “Lora—may I call you that?” When she nodded, he continued. “What I think about you has no bearing on us trying to do our job.”
“Actually, I think it has everything to do with that. Everyone here in Horse Cave only sees me as the girl from the bad home who never made anything of herself.”
“I’m not from here. I don’t know about your past and I don’t—”
She cut him off. “But I am trying to get better,” she blurted, even though it was probably way more than either of the men cared about. “I got my GED. I even got some counseling when I lived up near Covington. So, even though I’m still making mistakes, I’m better than I was.”
“Lora,” Sheriff Brewer said slowly, “about last night—”
“I don’t know why I messed up so badly. I guess I was feeling so bad about myself that I didn’t feel like arguing when Calvin wanted to get high.”
And just like that, she felt stupid all over again. Here she’d been asking them to see her as someone worthy of respect, as a woman who was working hard to turn her life around, but the proof was in her actions.
“So you joined him.”
“Yeah, I did. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do that tonight or tomorrow or next week. I want to change.” Thinking she sounded weak, Lora hardened her tone. “No, I will change.”
“Lora,” Sheriff Brewer began, “you aren’t in trouble. We came here to talk about Calvin.”
“And I told you that I don’t know where he is, Sheriff Brewer. Until he showed up in town a few days ago, I hadn’t seen him in years. When he showed up, I was feeling kind of down. Though I knew better, I invited him in. It was a big mistake. Before long, we
’d had too much to drink and started arguing about stupid things.”
“Like what?”
“Like my sisters,” she said impatiently. “Like his brother, Mark. Like a volleyball game we’d played in sixth grade. Then, when it was more than obvious that we don’t have anything in common, that I don’t even like him, I told him to leave.” Releasing a ragged sigh, she tried to regain her composure. “And that is when he hit me,” she said quietly. “He hit me because he said I was putting him down. Maybe I was.”
“If you see him again, will you let us know?” Sheriff Brewer asked.
“Sure.”
As the men stood up, the sheriff’s phone rang. “I’ve got to get this. Meet me at the station,” he said to the deputy.
“Sure, Pat.” Turning to Lora, Deputy Beck said quietly, “I like my job. I really do. But I hate when I cause people to get so upset. Sorry about that.”
He was apologizing? “It’s all right. You are just doing what you have to do.”
He nodded as they continued their short journey to the front door. “Hey, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What?”
“How come you never wait on me when I go to Bill’s?”
Because he was too cute. Because she hated that she noticed that he was so cute. “Have I not waited on you? Huh. I thought I had.”
“You haven’t. I would have remembered.”
“Ah.”
“Next time I come in, if you are working, can I sit in your section?”
She was nodding before she even realized it. “Okay.”
“Thanks.” Smiling at her, he said, “I’m looking forward to having a regular conversation with you.”
Smiling weakly, she opened the door. “I guess I’ll see you at Bill’s, then.”
“Hope so.” He smiled again, before walking to his vehicle.
Leaving her feeling more than a little tongue-tied and befuddled.
CHAPTER 14
Wednesday, August 10
Two days had passed since Waneta watched Mark have an intense conversation with Sheriff Brewer; two days after Mark essentially informed her that his business was none of her concern. She wasn’t going to lie—hearing those words had hurt.
His Guilt Page 9