His Risk

Home > Other > His Risk > Page 17
His Risk Page 17

by Shelley Shepard Gray


  He looked even more disgruntled. “I’m trying to be serious here.” He closed his eyes, then said, “I mean, I’m trying to do the right thing.”

  She attempted to smile, but all that happened was that her eyes started tearing up. Here was this man, this brawny, strong, powerful, violent-looking man . . . and he seemed all twisted inside, in knots. It was so unexpected, she couldn’t help but smile. “I know you are,” she said at last. “And I appreciate it, too.”

  “Then why are you looking like that?”

  “Maybe because you’re trying so hard to spare my feelings. I think the only other person who has ever tried to treat me with such care is Alice.”

  A muscle in his cheek jumped. “You deserve better than that. You should have had lots of people all your life looking out for you.”

  Just the other day, she’d begun thinking the same thing. That maybe she was worth more than she’d been led to believe. “West, I don’t know why the Lord decided you and I should become friends. Maybe I’ll never know. But I’ve decided to simply appreciate it for what it is.”

  He was staring at her closely. “And what is it?”

  “Well, that our Lord God must have wanted us to know each other right now, at this time.”

  He stared at her closely, as if he was trying to read her mind. “Do you really believe that?”

  “How can I not? There is no reason on earth that the two of us should have ever met each other, let alone have something to actually say to each other.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It doesn’t make sense at all.” Thinking of Able, Irene knew she had rarely believed anything so wholeheartedly. “But I don’t need for it to make sense. I just need to accept it.”

  “Are you able to do that?” West asked.

  “That’s what faith is. Ain’t so?” Because he still looked confused, she said, “Faith is believing in something without needing proof. It’s simply accepting that it is so.” She nodded. “I have to believe that. It’s okay if you don’t.”

  He stared at her, looked like he was about to nod, then seemed to catch himself. “Irene, you are the most surprising girl. Every time I think I’m prepared for something you’re about to say, you go in the opposite direction. You’re really something else.”

  “I’m a lot of things, I guess. Do you remember when I first told you that I had a bad time of it growing up?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, as bad a time of it as I had, Alice lived the complete opposite. She had a charmed life. Wonderful parents. Wonderful brothers. A cozy, nice home. Pretty looks, too.”

  “Why are you bringing her up?”

  “When we were seventeen, we both ran off for the night. We didn’t mean to get into trouble, but one thing rolled into the next. The next thing we knew, our bad decisions had snowballed. Do you know that feeling?”

  “I’ve experienced it a time or two.”

  She figured that was an understatement. “Well, in our case, we ended up at a party in an apartment where we didn’t know anyone. People were doing and saying things that made us uncomfortable. We were scared.”

  West was staring at her closely now. As if there wasn’t another person in the world he needed to listen to right at that moment. “What happened?”

  “A boy showed up. His name was Able, and he looked as ‘English’ as any of the other kids there, but he’d been raised Amish. He led us out of there and got us home safe.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “West, he appeared in my life when I needed him. I never saw him again after that, but here I am, after all this time, talking about him to both Alice earlier today and now you. I’m thinking that you are going to have that same kind of impact on me. One day, years from now, we’ll understand why we met.”

  West swallowed. Seemed to think about that for a moment, then, to Irene’s surprise, nodded. “As much as a part of me wishes things could be different, I’m okay with that.”

  She couldn’t help it, she chuckled again. “Me, too.”

  “You still going to give me a cup of coffee?”

  “Do you still want to be my friend?”

  “Don’t even start asking me stupid questions like that. Now, how about that cup?”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’re gonna sit down on this uncomfortable-looking couch of yours and talk about nothing.” He eyed her again. “You good with that?”

  Slowly, she nodded. “Jah, West. I am.”

  Chapter 25

  Thursday, March 1

  Almost a week had passed since the school had been vandalized. All their hard work on Saturday, cleaning and straightening up, paid off. Alice greeted her tiny scholars bright and early on Monday morning. For the first few minutes, she’d been wary, afraid that they would have heard about the damage or would be upset that everything wasn’t the same as it was before.

  But instead of focusing on the differences, they’d greeted the new door, calendar, and decorations with wide-eyed excitement. Alice was so relieved that she ended up making a game out of it. They played I Spy for a full half hour, clapping every time one of the students located something new and different.

  So, despite her many worries, school had been wonderful.

  Calvin had been, too. He stayed in town all week, watching both his brother and her with care.

  In fact, everything would have been wonderful-gut, if she hadn’t felt like she was being watched.

  Nothing had happened that she could put her finger on. If there had, she would have either told Calvin or paid Sheriff Brewer a visit. Instead, it was more like she sensed shadows outside the school where there didn’t used to be, or twigs cracking outside her bedroom window that couldn’t be explained.

  She knew her mind had to be playing tricks on her.

  But because of that feeling—and because she knew she needed to start acting more self-reliant—she kept her worries to herself.

  She also only went to school and back to Edward’s house. And when she was at the house, she kept all the windows and doors tightly locked.

  Anything to feel safe and secure.

  Because of this self-imposed isolation, Alice hadn’t seen Calvin, Irene, or her family. She didn’t go to the diner or stop by her parents’ house on the way home from school like she usually did from time to time. She didn’t even glance out the front windows in an attempt to spy Calvin. Being visible from the street felt like a bad idea, too.

  That was why she was caught off guard when Irene walked into her classroom just moments after Alice had hugged her last student good-bye.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted when they were completely alone.

  Irene shrugged. “I figured I better come over here since you’ve been staying away from the diner.”

  “I haven’t been staying away. I’ve just been busy.”

  “I bet.” Bending down, Irene picked up a couple of fallen plastic letters from the floor and set them on one of the tables. “But I still thought you might have stopped by. You aren’t mad at me or anything, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Looking like she was bracing herself, Irene continued. “Oh, gut. For a while, I was starting to worry that you were upset that I was friends with West Powers.”

  “I’m not.” Though she had thought their friendship was odd, Alice knew better than to say anything else. After all, she hadn’t liked Irene talking bad about Calvin.

  But since she’d brought it up, she eyed Irene carefully. “Do you really like him that much?”

  “I think I do.”

  “He sure acted like he liked you.”

  Irene’s expression lit. “Do you think so? I think he’s handsome.”

  “He is at that. He seemed nice, too.”

  “He has been. But, what I really like is that he doesn’t act like I’m damaged.”

  Taken by surprise, Alice set the tablet of paper she’d
been holding on a table. “Goodness, Irene, I never knew you felt that way.”

  “I don’t feel that way all the time. When I’m alone in my apartment, I feel at peace.” Her friend’s mouth tightened. “I know you think you know how bad things were at my house, but I promise, you don’t. Not really. When I think about those days, living the way I’d been forced to . . . well, I’ve learned to be thankful for a peaceful life.”

  “I don’t think West’s life is all that peaceful,” Alice pointed out gently.

  “You’re right. It ain’t. But I’m willing to be okay with that because he makes me realize that although I’m not perfect, there’s still a lot of me that is good.”

  “If he makes you feel that way, then that’s wonderful, because there’s a lot of good in you, my friend. I’m happy for you.”

  Irene’s light-blue eyes searched her face, obviously looking for subterfuge. “You mean it, don’t you?”

  She nodded assuredly. “I mean it.”

  “Gut, because I came over here to see if you wanted to go to that new coffee shop that opened. I hear that they have some great scones and cookies and cupcakes. You want to go get some hot chocolate, tea, or coffee—and eat things we shouldn’t? My treat. I got some good tips the other day.”

  Alice smiled. “Sure, but first I have to clean up.”

  “I can help you do that.” Reaching down, Irene picked up a stray yellow crayon. “What should I do first?”

  “If you could do what you’re doing, that would be wonderful-gut. I get so tired of collecting things off the floor.”

  Holding a magnetic letter P, Irene smiled. “Everything is so cute and small. I don’t mind doing this. It’s kind of fun to see how you spend your afternoons.”

  “Have at it, then. I always put out everything for the next class. It won’t take me but fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  “Go on, then. I’ve got this.”

  Alice chuckled as she walked back to her desk, feeling like a weighty load had just been lifted from her shoulders. She really should have swallowed her pride and gone over to visit Irene. After all, it was none of her business who Irene liked.

  She had enough to worry about with her own love life, anyway. Calvin Fisher was the type of man her parents had always feared she would date. No, that wasn’t quite right. They’d always assumed that she would stay away from men like him and do exactly as they wished. For the longest time, she had done just that.

  But all that had gotten her was a lot of lonely days and nights.

  “Hey, Alice? I found something I think you should see.”

  Putting her pencil down, she walked across to see what had Irene so concerned. It looked like she was holding several crumbled pieces of paper. “What is all that?”

  Irene held one of the sheets out to her. It was obvious that she’d recently worked to smooth it flat. “This.”

  Puzzled, she took the paper from Irene’s hand. Within seconds, she realized it wasn’t a scrap piece of paper, it was a letter. One addressed to her that she had never seen. As she read the words written there, she was glad she was only seeing it now, with Irene by her side and not before class started.

  It was a horrible note, written in large, scrawling, angry print. Calling her all sorts of terrible names and threatening her.

  It was from John Yutzy.

  Tears formed in her eyes. Not because of the words, but because it was obvious that Mr. Yutzy’s daughter, Mary Ruth, knew it was mean and didn’t want to show it to her teacher.

  That poor little thing. First, her father had ignored Alice’s directive and had continued to send her to school. Now it was obvious that he was giving her this burden as well. What must her home life be like? She already knew her father’s letters to her teacher should be something to be avoided.

  “Are they all from John Yutzy, Irene?”

  “Jah.”

  “She must have been crumbling them up and hiding them in her cubby so I wouldn’t see them.”

  Irene look confused. “But she couldn’t have read the notes, could she?”

  “Nee. But I think it’s obvious now that she knows her father doesn’t do nice things. Or, who knows? Maybe he was in a rant when he was writing them and she sensed they would be upsetting.”

  “What should we do?”

  “We? Nothing. Me, I don’t know.”

  “He grabbed my arm. And, well, we both know that he’s going to hate us for the rest of his life.”

  “He might not hate us . . .”

  “Alice, you can pretend that everyone lives like you do, in a happy preschool cloud, but most of us are well aware that some people are evil and mean.”

  “I don’t live in a happy cloud.” And, well, she was pretty shaken up. “You know what? I don’t want to stay in this room here anymore. Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure? When are you going to prepare everything?”

  “I’ll come in early tomorrow.” Realizing that her hands were shaking, she said, “I need a brownie.”

  “All right, then. I’ll buy you two.”

  She folded the terrible notes and slipped them in her purse. Then put on her bonnet, cloak, and mittens as quickly as she could.

  Minutes later, they were walking down the hill and toward Floyd’s Pond.

  Chapter 26

  Thursday, March 1

  Even though John Yutzy’s awful letters were tucked in her purse, Alice felt lighter than she had in days as she walked toward town at Irene’s side. In an obvious effort to lighten the mood, Irene told her a funny story about Mr. Lehmann, who owned Blooms and Berries, and also happened to be Mark and Waneta Fisher’s boss. Practically the moment Mr. Lehmann had ordered Bill’s famous pepper steak special, another man got the last helping. Mr. Lehmann started bartering for the meal, offering all sorts of things, including potting soil, a dwarf rosebush, and a watering can he’d been trying to get rid of forever.

  The customer didn’t want any of that, but was willing to trade for a tree.

  Alice had giggled. “Never say Henry Lehmann wouldn’t give up a tree for a plate of Bill’s steak and peppers.”

  Irene nodded. “It was a crabapple one, too.”

  “But those are expensive.”

  “Oh, yes. They are! But Henry was determined to get what he wanted, and he wanted that special.”

  “I wish I had been there,” Alice said as they crossed a field and approached Floyd’s Pond. “I would have ordered it just to get a tree.”

  “I know, right? None of us could believe it. Bill said that event was going to be talked about for years from now.”

  “Oh, I bet Mark and Waneta are going to give Henry a talking to. Mark thinks of Henry as his father.”

  “If he does, I doubt Mr. Lehmann is gonna listen. He really enjoyed his supper.”

  Chuckling, Alice said, “I’m so glad you came to the school. This is just what I needed to take my mind off things.”

  Irene’s smile faltered. “What ‘things’ are you speaking of?”

  “Oh, you know. The break-in . . .”

  “Has something else happened that you aren’t telling me?”

  “Nee. Of course not.”

  “But you would tell me if there was?”

  “Jah. Of course.” Stopping at the bank of Floyd’s Pond, Alice pasted on a smile and hoped it looked more at ease than she felt. “After all, we’ve been through too much together.”

  Irene’s smile faded. “Are you talking about our rumspringa?”

  “Nee.” Alice gestured toward the ice. “I’m talking about how I taught you to ice skate.”

  “Argh! Only you could bring up something more embarrassing than our teenaged years.”

  “Teaching you to skate wasn’t embarrassing.”

  “Not for you. Because you knew how to skate. You could skate like the wind. I could not.”

  Alice giggled. “It just took you a while. That’s all.”

  “It took longer than that, Al.”

  Alice couldn
’t completely disagree. In truth, it had taken Irene forever to get the hang of gliding across the ice on skates. No matter how hard she’d tried, Irene wasn’t able to do it and wanted to give up.

  But Alice wasn’t inclined to do that. She turned it into a personal battle, wanting to help Irene succeed no matter what. She ended up helping her for hours, holding on to her hands—and getting pulled down every couple of minutes because Irene jerked her to the ground.

  Other kids watched. Some had offered to help, a lot more simply snickered. Irene was beyond embarrassed. She saw her inability to skate as a glaring symbol of how she wasn’t like everyone else. They had siblings and parents who helped them learn to do things.

  She had next to nobody.

  Staring at the ice now, Irene smiled. “You never gave up on me, Alice. No matter how hard it was, or how many bruises you got, you stayed by my side.”

  “I did. But you are forgetting something, Irene.”

  “What is that?”

  “You did learn to skate. And then once you learned, you skated better than me.”

  Looking a bit dreamy, Irene sighed. “And your parents bought me those beautiful ice skates for Christmas when I was twelve. I haven’t thought about that winter in years.”

  “We should go skating again soon.”

  “When we find some skates on sale, let’s get them, okay?”

  Alice nodded. With a wink, she said, “We can show all those teenagers how it’s done. They’ll be so impressed.”

  “Not hardly, but we’ll have a good time. Ain’t so?”

  Just imagining it, Alice tapped the ice with a toe. “I wish we had skates with us now.”

  Irene shook her head. “No way. Do you spy that crack over near the middle? I don’t think it’s thick enough for skating.”

  Alice frowned. “You’re probably right. Still, it would be fun . . .”

  “Even if the ice was thicker, I’d still rather go eat brownies while sitting down someplace warm.”

  Feeling so much better, Alice wrapped her arms around her. “That is why you will always be my best friend, Irene. Jah. Let’s go eat brownies.” When they pulled away, she noticed that Irene had tears in her eyes.

 

‹ Prev