by Gayle Roper
“I don’t remember a time when I didn’t question all the rules and the hairsplitting and the separation from all that’s ‘worldly.’ I decided that if I had to follow the Ordnung to be a Christian, then I wouldn’t be one.”
“Who says you have to follow the Ordnung to be a Christian?”
“All my DNA relatives.” He looked at me in challenge. “I’ve known my blood family all my life, Cara, but I’ve never fit in. I’ve never really belonged. DNA doesn’t guarantee anything. I don’t know if Rose is right about Jesus, but I know I’m right about DNA. Don’t hold your breath over your new relatives. Blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water.” He wheeled around and rolled to his apartment. Hawk came running from the field behind the house to join him.
I sat on the steps for several minutes, thinking about Jake and his heritage. I knew he had broken free of the belief system his family held dear, but he hadn’t left family. Was that because his disability forced him to stay dependent? Or was it because he loved them in spite of their disagreements? I knew how his mother felt. She loved him dearly even as he broke her heart.
If Jake could leave, would he? Certainly he’d have his own home, but would he break the emotional ties? Somehow I didn’t think so. I’d seen the respect he had for his parents and his camaraderie with Elam.
I looked up at the sound of a motor and watched a FedEx truck pull into the drive.
The driver got out and walked toward me.
“Is there a Cara Bentley here?” he asked.
“That’s me.” I met him halfway up the walk. I loved getting packages. Before technology made it possible to send everything electronically, a large part of my business was transacted through the mail. I got packages containing page proofs or new covers or reviews. I missed the fun of opening something unknown. I looked at the envelope with anticipation as the FedEx guy drove down the road. Maybe this was the new contract?
I rushed to my room and grabbed scissors from the pencil caddy on my desk. I slit the envelope and slid out the contents…and felt my heart contract with horror.
Lying on my desk were mutilated pages of As the Deer.
Chapter 14
I stared at the carnage in front of me. All the pages of As the Deer had been ripped from the binding. Some had been further torn in two, some crumpled into tight balls, some torn into confetti. Some of the tiny pieces floated to the floor, and Rainbow came running, thinking we were going to play a new game. She was quickly disappointed as I could do nothing but stare in shock.
Even the cover had been defaced. The back cover had been cut into tiny pieces the size of my fingernail. The letters on the front cover had been scrawled over with a permanent black marker, obliterating the title. The beautiful forest scene in soft greens and golds had ugly, drooling monsters with lolling tongues, nasty eyes, and spiky horns added to it. And from each letter of my name dripped red drops of blood, forming a large puddle at the bottom of the page. At the edge of the puddle lay two dead chickens.
I don’t know how long I stared at the destroyed book. Even if the mailbox hadn’t been blown up, my tires slashed, the hens killed, and the note delivered, I’d have felt threatened and incredibly vulnerable by the sheer nastiness of this attack. The cumulative effect of the hate evidenced in the five occurrences was overwhelming. I didn’t know what to do, what to think. The spite made my mouth go dry and my insides clench.
Finally I became aware of coherent thought and realized I had another reason to be convinced that Amos had not done any of these things. The sheer amount of time required to accomplish this literary mutilation as well as the other attacks precluded his involvement. He was a man with things to do and places to go. He didn’t have hours to sit around and plot and destroy.
Which left the kids. Angry Mick. Talkative Pip. Lovely Morgan.
With shaking hands I gathered all the pieces into the FedEx envelope. I knew what I had to do. Much as I disliked the idea, I had to go talk with Amos and Jessica. And I had to go this evening. Whoever was committing this petty crime wave had to be stopped before it accelerated into actions that were truly dangerous.
I also wanted the flurry of nastiness to stop for the sake of John and Mary. I disliked intensely having ugliness strike their farm because of me. It wasn’t fair. They had enough to deal with due to Mary’s fall. They didn’t need a vandal with a vendetta against me.
By the time Todd arrived at 5:30, I had calmed down quite a bit. In fact, I felt almost normal, whatever that is. Still I didn’t doubt for a moment that my feeling of security was due to his general presence in my life and specific presence here at the farm.
He was truly a gift from God. Thank You.
I ran down the stairs with Pop’s paper in one hand and the FedEx envelope in the other. I needed to tell Todd about both, but which did I tell him about first?
When I got outside, I stopped abruptly, my eyes drawn to the sky. It had that roiling, boiling look that presaged a monumental storm. To the west the sun was already hidden behind banks of writhing steel gray clouds, and they were moving rapidly in our direction.
Todd looked up too. “Big storm coming.” A roll of thunder punctuated his comment. He gave me a quick kiss. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I’ve got to be back at the office by seven. I’m seeing clients all evening.”
Disappointed at the brevity of his visit, I decided to hold the slaughtered book until dinner was over. It would undoubtedly be better for our digestion that way. We ate at the Bird-in-Hand Restaurant, and over turkey and filling, I described in great detail my trip to the Archives. Between bites of cranberry sauce, I passed him the copy of Pop’s court record, which he read thoroughly.
“And I owe it all to you,” I said. “If you hadn’t thought of the prothonotary, I wouldn’t have said proof that even said Amos can’t contest.”
He looked up from the document grinning. “They do get a bit carried away by the saids, don’t they?”
“Ad nauseum. It’s a good thing legal documents are so much easier to understand today.” I even managed to say it with a straight face.
“Ouch,” he said. “It’s just that some things are pro forma.”
“If scientists accepted that things are just the way they are, there wouldn’t be any new discoveries.”
“I liked it better when you were grateful for my help.”
“Thank you, Todd,” I said obediently. “The prothonotary was a brilliant idea.”
“Then I can count on your vote for Lawyer of the Year?”
“I’ll stuff the ballot box.” I ate my shoofly pie with joy. There was something so wonderful about being with this man.
When we left the restaurant, the black clouds had taken up residence overhead, and the wind was whipping like a malevolent fury. It wasn’t raining—yet. Gravel, left from cindering the roads in winter, stung as it flew through the air. Gusts buffeted the car as we drove to the farm. When we saw an Amish buggy approaching, horse trotting urgently, I was glad for the sturdiness of our vehicle. A flash of lightning lit the dimness and a crack of thunder sounded as if it were in our backseat. The horse, eyes wide and nostrils flared with fear, shied and tossed his head. The woman driver fought for control, and I was relieved to look back over my shoulder and see her pull into a farm lane.
When we parked in the drive at Zooks’, I pulled out the FedEx envelope. “I had another interesting experience today.”
“Saving the best to last?”
“Hardly.” I held out the envelope. “Someone sent this to me.”
He peered inside. “What in the world?”
He dumped the contents in my lap. The pages, half pages, crumpled pages, and confetti looked just as obscene against my tan skirt as they had on my desk.
“Cara! Your book!”
“Someone knows how to stick a knife in a writer’s heart without actually committing the crime.” I think it was the tremor in my voice that made my attempt at humor miss its mark.
“Oh, honey.” He laid his hand against
my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
I nodded, his sympathy making tears spring to my eyes.
“You know Amos didn’t do this, right?” he said.
“I think it was one of his kids.”
“Probably. But which one and how do we prove it?”
“I don’t really care which one.” And I didn’t at this point. I just wanted it all to stop. “I thought I’d go to The Paddock this evening and talk to Amos. I’ve got my indisputable proof of relationship.” I patted my purse which held Pop’s records. “And I’ve got the threatening note and what’s left of my book.” I began slipping the wreckage back in the envelope.
Todd put his hand over mine. “Don’t go over there tonight.”
“I want to. I want this settled.”
“But I can’t go with you. I’ve got clients coming.”
“I know and I feel badly about that. I’d like you with me.” I pulled my hand free and returned to putting As the Deer in the envelope. “But I’ve managed on my own for thirty years. I guess I can manage for one more night.” I was able to sound confident in spite of my thudding heart. I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile.
“Don’t go, Cara.” He leaned toward me, his face intent. “Amos isn’t the nicest person in the best of times. Tonight he’ll be even more unhappy than usual when he sees your papers.”
I gave him a weak smile. “He’d probably be unhappier if you were along.”
He blinked.
“You’re a threat to him,” I explained. “You’re an up-and-coming lawyer whom judges congratulate on your work. People respect and like you. I saw that the other night. You’re also honest and extremely capable. In other words, you’re a threat.”
He didn’t look convinced, but I was. Amos didn’t like competition, and Todd was competition whether he meant to be or not.
“Amos and I faced off in court today,” he said. “The judge ruled in my client’s favor. Amos isn’t used to losing. I think it’d be better if you stayed away from him tonight.”
I thought for a moment. He had a point, but I needed to get this thing resolved, to return the farm to its normal peace and myself to my customary unexciting life. “I don’t think there’s any good time as far as he and I are concerned, so I might as well get it over with as soon as possible.” I dropped the last of the confetti in the packet.
“Cara.” There was an edge to Todd’s voice. “Don’t go tonight.”
I was touched by his concern. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” I looked up from the packet and saw his face. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”
“I don’t want you to go to Amos’s house.”
Whether he meant it to or not, his words sounded like an order to me, and in true Bentley fashion, my hackles rose. Still, I forced myself to speak evenly. “Todd, it’s my choice to make.”
“Not this time,” he said slowly and distinctly. “I’m telling you: Don’t go.”
I felt my jaw tense and my eyes turn flinty. “You can’t stand it if someone differs with you, can you?” If my icy tone were any measure of temperature, the coming rain would be snow, June or not.
“And you can’t stand to take advice from anyone, can you?” His anger was hot enough to melt the polar ice cap.
I reached for the door handle. “It’s 6:50. You’re going to be late for your clients.”
“Cara!” He grabbed my arm. “Don’t. Go. To. Yosts’.”
I pulled my arm free. “What gives you the right to tell me what I can or can’t do?”
“If you don’t know,” he said, his voice low and hard, “then I can’t explain it to you.”
I slid out and slammed the door. He threw the car in reverse. I stalked to my car, and he stormed out of the drive. I jammed my key into the ignition, and he roared down the road. I stared out my windshield and wondered what had just happened.
The Paddock looked as lovely under this evening’s threatening skies as it had the beautiful evening Todd and I were there. The tables were gone, the dance floor disassembled, the fairy lights extinguished, but the beauty of the graceful estate was undiminished.
Only I was different. I was alone and remorseful instead of with Todd and full of dreams. I sighed for the millionth time. Gone was my anger; regret filled me instead.
Dear Father, can two highly opinionated people with sinfully strong wills make it? Please tell me they can. I’ll even work at becoming a woman of a quiet and gentle spirit. I will! I promise.
I parked outside the garage and walked slowly to the front door. The air was now still and heavy, the quiet before the storm. I shivered in spite of the heat.
Todd was right. I shouldn’t have come here alone. Another person would be a witness to what was said, if nothing else. That he might also be comfort, strength, encouragement, support—the list went on—only made me feel more alone.
As I stood hesitantly on the front porch, lightning flashed, and immediately a great crack of thunder ripped the night. I jumped.
I didn’t need to talk to Amos tonight, I decided suddenly. I’d face him another time. Solving the crimes didn’t have the immediacy I’d thought. No one was in danger beyond the petty war of nerves being conducted, and certainly I was woman enough to stand up to that. I turned to leave.
Before I took a step, the skies opened, releasing a wall of water so dense the air was a river. I wondered there was room left for the necessary oxygen to breathe.
My choices were reduced to facing Amos or drowning. Wondering if this was my don’t-go-into-the-basement-in-the-dead-of-night-stupid-woman moment, I took my first step and rang the doorbell.
Pip answered. “Hey, look who’s here! Come on in.”
Well, at least one person was glad to see me.
Pip ushered me into the front hall. He grinned at me and then leaned his head back and bellowed, “Mom, Dad, company!”
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I won’t tell them who’s here. They might not come if they knew.” His eyes twinkled and he rocked back and forth on his toes, delighted with himself.
I couldn’t help grinning back at him. There was something irresistible and delightful about him. I marveled he’d kept his sense of fun living with Mick and his father.
Pip wasn’t as bulky as his father or Mick, and his lean good looks were the kind that appealed to me. He had a wonderful smile, and his brown eyes were guileless and full of wonder, even with the dark circles beneath them.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall and Mick appeared. He took one look at me, and his handsome face soured. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Pleased to see you too, Mick,” I said.
“Guess what?” Pip was undeterred by his brother’s ill humor. “Morgan bought one of your books.”
“Great! Which one, do you know?”
“There’s more than one?” He seemed surprised.
“Several more.” I smiled at him. “I’m a writer, remember? To make a living at the profession, you have to keep on producing.”
More footsteps sounded in the hall, light and quick, and Jessica and Morgan appeared. Jessica froze when she saw me, but Morgan rushed forward.
“I bought one of your books,” she said. “As the Deer. If I’m going to be a writer, I thought I should read what a successful author is writing.”
As the Deer. I shivered.
“The weird thing is,” she continued, “I can’t find it anywhere. When I do, will you autograph it? To my favorite cousin or something?”
“Sure. I’d be glad to.” But I was afraid the book was right here in the FedEx pouch in my hand. I studied her, trying to determine if she was being clever or just being honest. I couldn’t tell.
“Mom!” Pip bounced around the hall with an energy that made me feel weary. “We haven’t been very polite to Cara. We need to invite her into the living room.”
Jessica looked trapped by Pip’s suggestion. “Of course,” she said without enthusiasm. “Please, Cara. Have a seat.” She led the way and gestured to a wing
chair.
I looked around the living room. At least I wasn’t trapped in another paean of praise to Penn State. The greens, blues, and creams were lovely, though the room had the look of a showplace rather than a lived-in space. Jessica and the children sat stiffly, clearly unused to the room.
“So what have you been doing since you were here Saturday?” Pip asked, all excitement. “Anything interesting, especially on the are-we-related scene?”
“When your dad gets here, I’ll tell all of you at the same time.” I smiled at him so the answer didn’t seem too brusque.
He nodded and jumped to his feet. “I’ll go get Dad.” And he dashed from the room.
I turned to Jessica. “He must wear you out with all his energy.”
She offered a courtesy smile, but said nothing. I became aware that Mick was watching her closely. When he felt my eyes on him, he looked at me in anger.
An awkward silence fell over the room, and it was a relief to finally hear two people approaching, even if one of them was Amos.
When he walked into the room and saw me, he froze. It was obvious that Pip hadn’t told him I was his guest. Pip giggled at his father’s expression.
Jessica, Mick, and Morgan all watched Amos nervously. Pip watched me.
Amos finally found his voice. “When I told you to stay away from my mother, I never imagined I’d have to tell you to stay away from us as well.”
I tried not to cringe under the lash of his words.
“Dad.” Pip laid his hand on Amos’s arm. “She’s a guest here. We need to be polite.” He turned to Jessica. “Right, Mom?”
Jessica opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“Be quiet, Pip,” Amos ordered. “She is not a guest, and I will not be polite.”
Praying like crazy, I stood up so I could face Amos on more equal footing. “I won’t stay long. I just have three things to give you.”
Amos didn’t ask what they were, but he didn’t walk out of the room either.
“The first is a copy of a legal document I found in the Archives at the courthouse today.” I held out a copy of Pop’s adoption decree.