“Do you want to be English now?”
Lydia realized that her sister was no longer being catty . . . she was seeking to understand her. And so she did her best to respond in kind. “I don’t know.”
Her sister’s temper surfaced once again. “I think you’re just biding your time until you jump the fence and leave us all behind.”
She wanted to promise her sister that she’d never to do that. She wanted to promise Becky that she wasn’t thinking about leaving their community.
But she couldn’t. Not yet.
Chapter 14
“That Perry, I could always count on him to talk to the customers about special sales. Chaos didn’t bother him none.”
AARON SCHROCK
Walker, you just going to stand there like a bump on a log, or are ya going to help me with these guinea pigs?”
Inwardly, Walker groaned. When he’d first seen the man enter the store with a wire container full of furry animals, he’d been tempted to quit. His boss surely had to be the craziest store owner in the whole county. “Sorry. I’ll carry that for you.”
After he carried the crate the rest of the way into the store and set it on the main counter, he bent and peered into the cage.
Seven tiny, furry orange and white bodies with beady eyes started right back at him.
They were cute, if you liked those kind of animals. He did not. “Mr. Schrock, who in the world decided that we were going to start selling guinea pigs?”
“Mrs. Schrock and myself, of course.”
Walker had known them long enough to recognize a tall tale. Mrs. Schrock was a very organized and competent woman—selling small rodents didn’t seem like something she would do. “Are you sure about that?”
Looking a little embarrassed, Mr. Schrock bit his lip. “Well, maybe Mrs. Schrock didn’t have too much to do with the decision. But the pigs are going to be good business, Walker. Mark my words,” he said with a little shake of his finger. “People like pets.”
People liked dogs and cats. Maybe hamsters. Horses, even.
But cinnamon-colored guinea pigs? Walker wasn’t so sure. Besides, having to take care of these little creatures until they found owners was going to take a lot of time. And it wasn’t hard to figure who was going to be in charge of cleaning up after this new stock. “Mr. Schrock, maybe we should rethink this.”
“Nothing to rethink. The animals are for sale. Ten dollars each, Walker. And look here, this is going to be their new home.”
Walker glanced over to where Mr. Schrock was gesturing and frowned. It was an open square surrounded by chicken wire. “Are you sure that’s going to keep them contained? It looks a little flimsy to me.”
“They’re going to be happy enough. Now start taking them over to their new home. Take two at a time and be quick about it, wouldja? The store’s about to open. I’m not paying ya to hear your opinions.”
“Yes, sir,” Walker said with a grin. Mr. Schrock was truly one of the nicest men he’d ever met. He was kind of eccentric, but he was full of good humor and always had a plan for some new sales idea.
He was just carrying two creatures over to the bigger pen his boss had made when the front door opened and two little girls scampered in with a lady in a raincoat and matching boots.
“Hi, Mr. Schrock,” the lady said with a sunny smile. “Do you think it will ever stop raining?”
“Not in my lifetime,” he replied. “What can we be helping you with, Mrs. Krienze?” As he spoke, he pulled out two more guinea pigs from the carrier—just as the little girls caught sight of them.
The girls squealed, scampered closer, and reached out with eager hands. The pigs didn’t care for that idea and squirmed.
Mr. Schrock lost hold of the animals, and they fell to the floor with a batch of frenzied squeals. The poor little guinea pigs, who by some miracle had survived the fall without any lingering effects, squeaked and ran in two separate directions.
“Walker, do something!” Mr. Schrock ordered.
“Yes, sir.” But just as Walker was about to set the wriggling pigs in his hands in the pen, the little girls, seemingly delighted about more fluffy animals to pet, rushed forward.
Actually, they pretty much lunged at Walker. Startling him. And the little creatures. And then, just like that, they squirmed out of his hands and were gone.
Four were now on the run. No doubt pooping and chewing their way through the store. Which he was going to have to clean up, of course.
Walker felt a headache coming on. What a mess.
“Walker, look what happened!” Mr. Schrock exclaimed. “The pigs, they’ve run off!”
“I noticed,” he said dryly.
The woman grabbed the hands of the two little girls. “Mr. Schrock, I’m so, so sorry. I feel like this is our fault. What can we do to help?”
“There’s not a thing you can do, Mrs. Krienze. These things happen, jah? Don’t worry none. We’ll find the pigs.” With a glare Walker’s way, he added, “That is, my employee here will.”
Mrs. Krienze sent a sympathetic look his way. “Good luck, Walker.”
“Thanks,” he said. What he didn’t say was he had no idea how he was supposed to round up four baby guinea pigs that had a whole shop to run around in.
After Mrs. Krienze rounded up her girls and sheepishly guided them out of the market, Mr. Schrock clapped his hands. “Get busy now, Walker. We need to find these animals. Fast.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Get down on your hands and knees, son. You won’t be able to spy the creatures from your height.”
“You make it seem like a bad thing that I’m six feet.”
“It is today.” Mr. Schrock pointed to a line of shelves. “I think I heard a bit of squeaking over there. Get down and look, wouldja?”
Obediently, Walker got down on his hands and knees and looked under a line of shelves. Feeling the fool, he crawled to the next section, and almost yelped when a pair of beady eyes met him head-on. “Come here, you,” he murmured. Like guinea pigs even listened to directions.
Reaching out under the shelves, he had almost grabbed the little rascal when—
“Walker?”
He groaned as he recognized Lydia’s voice, his humiliation complete. Yep, just when he was sure things couldn’t get worse, they did. “Oh. Hey, Lydia.”
After a moment, she crouched down beside him, the hem of the violet dress she was wearing brushing the ground. “Whatever are you doing?”
“Looking for pigs. Watch where you step, okay?”
Obviously looking like she was fighting a smile, Lydia lifted one palm off the floor. “Or perhaps I should watch where I crawl?”
Her humor in the situation made his mood lighten. Getting to his feet, he reached out a hand and helped her up. “I don’t think either of us should be crawling around here on the floor.”
Her lips curved into a full-fledged smile. “Should I even mention that I thought pigs belonged outside?”
“These are tiny furry pigs. Guinea pigs.”
Those blue eyes he couldn’t ever seem to ignore lit up with laughter. Now it looked like it was taking everything she had to contain herself. “I’ll say it again. Shouldn’t those pigs be outside?”
“I just work here. I’m not supposed to have an opinion about them.”
“Come now, Walker,” she said with a laugh. “I know you well enough to know you have an opinion about most everything. So tell me, what are you going to do about—”
Lightly pressing a finger to her lips, he said, “Shh! Mr. Schrock has moved on to chatting with that couple over by the bulk food barrels. If he hears you, I’m going to be back on my hands and knees.”
“If it would solve your pig problem, I might consent to help.”
Walker relaxed, realizing that now he, too, was grinning broadly. The reason was obvious. He was happy to see her. Happy to have someone to share the circus that was the Schrock Variety Store. Happy to have someone in his life whom he coul
d laugh with.
But against his fingers, Lydia stilled.
He dropped his hand. “Oh. Hey. I’m sorry. I was just fooling around.” Yeah. And he didn’t notice that her lips were really soft. Not at all.
“Oh, I know you were just playing.” Cheeks blooming, she stepped backward, putting more distance between them.
Walker did the same, no longer caring if the little varmints ate the entire store. Now there were two choices. He could apologize again for touching her so personally.
Or he could pretend nothing had happened. “So, can I help you with something?”
Lydia knew she was being a foolish girl, but at the moment, she could hardly remember her own name. That was how much Walker’s innocent touch had affected her.
“Lydia?”
Candles. She’d come in for candles. And white thread. “I just need a few household goods.”
“Want some help?”
Help from Walker meant walking by his side and having to pretend a little longer that she hadn’t been completely taken by his gesture. “Nee. I only came here for candles. I don’t need any help.”
“Oh.” He stepped back. “All right. Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“Walker, go help check these customers out, wouldja?” Mr. Schrock hollered from the front of the store.
“Yes, sir,” he said, before turning to the pair of women waiting at the counter. “Did you ladies find everything you were looking for?”
“All that and more,” one of them said.
As he began to ring up the women, Lydia darted down an empty aisle. And, when she was sure it was all clear, leaned back against one of the posts, and closed her eyes.
For a moment, all she had been able to think about was kissing Walker. Right there, in the middle of the Schrocks’ store.
Thank goodness they’d both come to their senses. After all, the last thing either of them needed was a relationship. She needed a friend she could confide in, not a romance.
And especially not with an English boy. If she went about falling in love, it needed to be with someone Amish. Someone who believed in the same things that she did.
Those words of advice had been told to her over and over for most of her life. She didn’t doubt that her mother meant every word.
But of course, her mother had also lied to her for most of her life as well.
Just like that, her true origins rushed right back. She hadn’t been born Amish. She’d been adopted into the life.
She’d blindly accepted everything her parents had told her, because she liked fitting in with her family.
But now, well, they weren’t really her family, anyway.
All her thoughts disturbed her greatly. She wasn’t some young teenager. She was twenty. She had a job and a great many responsibilities. The time for rumspringa was passed. But how could she ever move forward in this life if she didn’t even know where she came from?
And now, she found herself standing in the middle of a store wishing for Walker’s hand against her skin again. Wishing for his kiss.
“The candles are down the next aisle.”
“What?” Seeing Walker’s knowing gaze, she managed to become even more flustered. “Oh, I was just looking at the . . .” What was she standing in front of . . . ?
“Pills for upset stomachs?”
With a sinking feeling, she looked up and stared at the row of products she’d been gazing at. Pills for diarrhea and constipation.
He folded his arms over his chest and almost smirked. “Are you feeling poorly, Lydia?”
“No! I mean, I wasn’t reading those labels.”
“Are you sure? Because it’s okay if you need some medicine . . .”
“I do not.” She was just about to turn and dart down the aisle, when a brown furry blob raced across her path. “Ack!” she screamed, scooting backward.
Right into Walker’s arms. “It’s okay,” he murmured from behind her, not really sounding like he minded her backing into his chest at all. “It’s just a guinea pig. They’re on the loose, you know.”
“I heard.” She shook her head, just as Mr. Schrock showed up.
He stopped abruptly, stared at Walker’s hands still clasped on her shoulders, and then frowned. “Walker, now you are manhandling the customers? What am I going to do with you today?”
“I’ll try to do better, Mr. Schrock,” he said as he slowly slid his hands down her arms and stepped to the side so they were facing each other again.
Lydia felt like digging a hole in the floor as Mr. Schrock glared at Walker again, and then stared at the shelf both she and Walker had been discussing. “Lydia, are you sick, child?”
Oh. This was horrible. “Nothing is wrong. Listen, I think I’m just going to go.”
All traces of amusement left Walker’s face. “But didn’t you come in for candles?”
“I’ll get them another day. I’m running late,” she blurted over her shoulder as she strode toward the door, keeping a careful eye on the ground for darting guinea pigs as she went.
Walker was right behind her. “Hey, Lydia?”
“What?”
“See you at the park? Tomorrow, right?”
There was only one right answer. Even though she was worried about her future, and confused about her past, she was desperately sure that there was only one way she wanted to go with Walker, and that was forward.
“Of course,” she said as she darted out the door.
Chapter 15
“Perry loved coconut cream pie. Summer, winter, Christmas? It didn’t matter the occasion. If he came in to the restaurant, why, he’d order it.”
MARY KING YODER
Have you had much of an occasion to visit Mary King’s?” Mose asked after Luke had shaken his hand and they’d exchanged greetings.
“Nope.” Luke looked around at the modest restaurant, housed in a double-wide trailer situated at the edge of town. In Cincinnati, he wouldn’t have gone inside the place unless he’d been told to do so by his sergeant.
But he was learning not to be quite so particular about appearances here. In Crittenden County, appearances were proving to be deceiving. Some of the plainest of places were turning out to be pretty terrific.
Like the current restaurant where they were eating. “Frannie Eicher told me this place was pretty good. I’m looking forward to getting a chicken fried steak.”
Instead of agreeing and opening his plastic menu, Mose tilted his head to the side. “Frannie told you that?”
“Uh-huh. Do you know Frannie? She runs the Yellow Bird Inn.”
Mose chuckled. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting Frannie is in charge of that place. She didn’t used to be.”
“She is pretty young. How did she come to own it?”
“I’m not rightly sure, if you want to know the truth. Rumor has it that she was good friends with the Gowans.” Mose drummed his fingers on the laminate table. “They were the original owners. Now that I think about it, maybe she lived with them for a time and worked there, too? Or, maybe Mrs. Gowan was her great aunt? You’ll have to ask her for the full story.”
Yeah, that would be the day. He could just see himself asking Frannie all about her childhood, just days after he’d been frank about how his schedule wasn’t her business.
“Mose, what’ll you have?” the server asked, suddenly appearing at their side.
“Chicken fried steak, of course.”
“Mashed potatoes?”
“Uh-hum.”
“Beans or corn?”
“Both.”
“To drink?”
“Iced tea.”
“Sweet?”
“Always.”
Luke bit his lip, having enjoyed watching the conversation lob between them like the final set in a tennis match.
“Sir?” the gal asked.
“I’ll take the exact same thing, except make my tea unsweetened.”
“You got it.” When she turned around, menus in hand, Luke c
ouldn’t help but do some teasing. “So, I guess you come here a lot. You and that waitress have your order down pat.”
Mose grinned. “I come here often enough. And Martha and I do know each other well. A man needs a decent meal every once in a while, you know?”
“I know.”
As he thought about his buddy, and how well-entrenched he was in the county, he couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t put down more roots. “Mose, why haven’t you married yet? There’s got to be some woman around here who would have you.”
Luke waited for his buddy to say the same right back at him. But to his surprise, Mose looked uncomfortable about his situation.
“It’s not so easy finding the right woman, Luke. Especially, you know, given my situation.”
“I thought everyone came to terms with you leaving the order and becoming a sheriff a long time ago.”
“Oh, they’re perfectly happy with my decision . . . as long as I don’t bring their daughters into the mix.” He shrugged. “Even though I made my choice years ago, sometimes I still feel like I’m straddling the fence.”
Luke knew what he meant. It was hard to fit in one place when your heart hadn’t completely left the past. “Maybe you should look into applying to some other sheriff departments. Go someplace bigger. Meet some new people.”
“What, suddenly move to the big city, all so I can find some city girl?” Mose’s expression would’ve been laughable if Luke didn’t completely understand his point. No matter where you were, it wasn’t easy finding a woman who you wanted to date, let alone someone who was interested in dating a cop.
“No . . . though, maybe you might have more of a chance—”
“That isn’t going to happen. Crittenden County is my home. And though everyone here doesn’t always think of me as family, I think of them that way.”
“I understand.”
After the waitress brought them their drinks, Luke used the time to sip his drink and consider his friend.
Fact was, Mose was handsome. Years spent in the fields around his house had built up his body in a way nothing else could. It was obvious that he still took the time to stay in shape, and he walked with the steady cadence of a man completely at ease with himself.
Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One Page 12