For a moment, his gaze softened. Just like he, too, remembered how they’d once played tag in each other’s yard after church. How they’d been friends before he’d ever courted Lydia. Before he’d finally looked her way with new eyes, finally saw her as though he hadn’t realized that she’d been there all along, just waiting for him.
“You aren’t the same. Just like me, you’re different than the way you used to be. Change always happens. It can’t be helped.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She bit her lip. How much did she want to say when he was in this condition?
But how much did she dare keep inside? Didn’t her heart mean anything? Didn’t her soul and conscience count just as much?
“Perry, I don’t want you to move away. And I don’t like the men you’ve been keeping company with. I wish you’d rethink your decisions.” She ached to tell him more, to beg him to seek help.
But his thunderous response stopped all that.
“What are you? My mother?”
“Of course not,” she said quickly.
His gaze darkened. “I don’t need another mother, Frannie. One nagging woman in my life is more than enough.”
“I know. I mean, I know that, Perry. I’m only offering my opinion. That’s all.”
“Don’t.”
There was a new anger in his voice, and she knew she’d put it there. It was time to go. Perry had chosen his path and he certainly wasn’t going to change it for her.
Perhaps he wasn’t even able to make the changes for himself. Maybe the drugs weren’t ever going to loosen their grip on him.
She stepped backward. “I’m going to go back home now.”
“Alone?”
“Jah. I . . . I think it’s best. I mean, I don’t think we have much more to say to each other.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then held up his hand. “Hold on. I . . . I brought something for you.” He fumbled in a pocket in his coat, pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “These are for you.”
“You brought me sunglasses?” She couldn’t imagine a more peculiar gift. Especially on such a cloudy, wintery day.
“Yeah. They’re nice, ain’t so? Expensive, too. Cameron, one of my friends from St. Louis, picked them up for me. He got two pairs.” He threw off the comment, just as if she were no more important to him than an afterthought.
She was becoming even more confused. He’d brought her men’s sunglasses, given to him from one of his drug dealing friends? “Whatever would I do with them?”
“Wear them, of course.” Crooking a finger, he motioned her closer. “Come here and try them on.”
They were only sunglasses. Though it wasn’t in the norm for Amish to wear sunglasses, it wasn’t unheard of, either.
But these sunglasses looked expensive. And looked so worldly. These screamed English and were built for a man’s face, not her own.
They seemed to stand for everything she was not.
And right then and there, she knew she couldn’t accept them. Couldn’t touch them.
All they would do was symbolize everything that was wrong with them. With her. With Perry.
“No. I don’t want them, Perry.”
“You’re not even going to try them on? Not even going to touch them?” He held the glasses by one of the handles. “What’s wrong, Frannie? Afraid you’re going to get tainted?” His voice was loud now. Loud enough to reverberate around them.
But still not loud enough for others to overhear.
She stepped farther back. “I just don’t want them. You should keep them.”
His eyes narrowed. Then, with one swift motion, he tossed the glasses with an arc.
Frannie followed their path with a lump in her throat. “Perry! You shouldn’t have done that.”
“If you don’t want them, I don’t, either. We’ll leave them for the Millers. Maybe their cows or something can use them.” He grinned as if he’d made some joke. “Go, Frannie. Go on, now.”
“Perry, don’t be like this. Maybe we can get you some help . . .”
“I don’t need help, Frannie. And I don’t need you. Just go. And let’s hope we never see each other ever again.”
She turned. And ran.
And realized as she heard his laugh behind her that finally . . . finally they once more had something in common.
She, too, hoped she’d never see him again.
But of course, she doubted she would ever be that lucky.
Found
Book Three in The Secrets of Crittenden County Series
Available wherever books are sold September 4, 2012
Prologue
Jacob Schrock knew how to keep a secret. It was the way he had been raised. His parents ran Schrock’s Variety, which was in a lot of ways the center of their community.
Since he was his parents’ only child, he’d always known he would take over the business. Even when he was small, sitting by his parents’ side at the front counter, he felt a part of things. He also learned that selling merchandise to most of their friends and neighbors meant being privy to a lot of information they’d just as soon keep private.
“It’s not our place to comment on purchases, Jacob,” his father had told him all his life. “We offer things for them to buy, not gossip about.”
By the time he was six or seven, he had taken that advice to heart. He became adept at going about his business with only half an ear to the private conversations floating around him.
Now, though, he wished he hadn’t gotten so good at hiding his emotions.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come over tomorrow night?” Lydia Plank asked. “My mamm’s going to make popcorn and hot chocolate.”
“And probably another hundred things,” Frannie Eicher said. “Your mother is a wonderful-gut cook.”
As Jacob sat, listening to his friends chatter, he felt the iron grip with which he’d held himself tight slowly lessen. He’d missed this. He missed this...normality.
He and a group of his friends-Lydia, Walker Anderson, Beth Byler and Frannie-sat on the store’s porch, some in rockers, some sitting on the porch railing, drinking hot apple cider, eating day-old donuts, and basically doing what people his age did when they could...gossiping about life.
This slice of normal was just what he needed.
He craved it after what had happened during his last argument with Perry.
Still talking food, Lydia grinned. “My mother has a reason for making so many treats for me and my friends. She knows if everyone’s there, she’ll be able to know what we’re doing.”
“We are all over eighteen,” Beth said. Looking around, she added, “Most of us are over twenty. Your mamm shouldn’t care what we do anymore.”
Frannie grabbed another donut and scoffed. “Parents always care, Beth.”
“My mamm is interested, but she’ll stay out of the way, I promise,” Lydia said. “It will be fun.”
“Sounds exciting,” Walker Anderson said sarcastically. But not in a mean way. Just because he was English didn’t mean he was stuck up like that. But he didn’t hang out with them much.
Jacob considered accepting Lydia’s invitation, but only for a minute. If he went, the conversation inevitably would turn to talk of Perry, of his recent exploits, his new friends, and of how Jacob’s father had fired him.
Jacob definitely didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. “I don’t think I can make it, but thanks for asking,” he said.
Ever since his father had fired Perry Borntrager for stealing money out of the cashbox, Jacob had been feeling more and more out of sorts. Perry had been angry and hurt that Jacob had never warned him that he was going to be let go.
And though his daed had been right, and Jacob had been mad at Perry about the thefts, it had been uncomfortable. After all, he and Perry had been friends all their lives.
To make matters worse, everyone in the county seemed to know what had happened. And Jacob, used to keeping others’ secrets, had been having a diffic
ult time dealing with how everyone knew one of his.
Now, a few weeks later, things hadn’t gotten much easier. Perry lurked around the store with new Englischers. Sometimes even wearing fancy sunglasses-of all things-even when it was dark outside.
The two of them, once close friends, had become distant. There was a lot of anger pulsing between them. Misplaced on Perry’s part-he never was one to take responsibility for his actions.
And as Jacob watched his father struggle with firing a boy he’d practically help raise, Jacob’s resentment grew. He was so angry that Perry had taken advantage of his family, of their friendship.
He’d never even apologized.
Bringing him back to the present, Lydia shrugged. “All right, Jacob. But if you change your mind...”
“If I change my mind, I’ll let you know,” he replied. He breathed deep, desperate to push away his dark thoughts. Desperate to concentrate on the friends he still had.
But then one glance over Lydia’s shoulder proved that goal was going to be impossible. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to come around here,” he muttered.
Of course, his barely suppressed anger brought everyone else to their feet and turning around. Perry was walking toward the store with his sister Deborah at his side.
As if any of them would want to talk to the Borntragers.
Lydia closed her eyes and sighed at the sight of her ex-boyfriend.
“You don’t have to talk to him, Lydia,” Jacob blurted. He knew breaking up with Perry had broken her heart. “We should go inside and ignore them both.” In two seconds, all of them could be inside and pretend the Borntragers weren’t a stone’s throw away.
“You want to ignore Deborah?” Frannie asked, her tone horrified. “Jacob, we can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right. Deborah’s never done anything wrong.”
Still more concerned with Lydia who had tears in her eyes, and, selfishly, himself, he said, “I don’t want to talk to them.”
But Beth-being Beth-couldn’t seem to let it go. “That don’t make sense, Jacob. You can’t blame Deborah for her brother’s actions.”
Sure he could. He’d always taken responsibility for his family and their actions. He expected the same of others. Plus, he’d watched enough people in the store to know that most family members were aware of what other people in their homes did even if they pretended to turn a blind eye.
There was no doubt in his mind that Deborah had known that Perry was stealing from the store. For that matter, she’d probably known all along and had been protecting Perry.
“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing, Jacob,” Walker said. “It’s still a free country. You can’t expect Perry to never walk on your store’s sidewalk.”
Jacob knew Walker was probably right. And when he spied Deborah casting a quick, longing glance their way, he knew Beth was probably right, too. It was wrong to shun Perry’s sister for his crimes.
But just because he knew what the right thing to do was, didn’t mean he had to do it. So instead of relaxing, he rose and stood near the door to the store. Watching and glaring. Waiting for them to walk by. In just a few minutes, they’d be gone. Then they could relax and pretend that they’d never seen Perry and Deborah.
But Frannie ruined everything. She rushed down the steps. “Hi Deborah. Hey, uh...Perry.”
The siblings stopped and looked at her warily. Beside Jacob, Walker groaned.
Jacob held his breath, hating that he had no control over the situation.
He felt completely ineffectual as Frannie barreled on. “Deborah, you want to join us?”
Both siblings looked startled by the invitation. “Well, I don’t know,” Deborah said, looking at Perry.
Jacob gritted his teeth. He ached to tell Frannie to take back the invitation. Or to just leave with Perry and Deborah.
After a split second, Perry turned his head. Met Jacob’s gaze. Jacob stared right back. Daring Perry to approach him.
“Go ahead, Deb,” Perry finally murmured. “I don’t care.”
After another pause she nodded. “Okay, then, danke.”
Frannie hooked her arm around Deborah’s elbow and guided her onto the porch. Almost immediately, Beth walked over and hugged the girl.
All the while, Perry stood off to the side. Watching. To Jacob’s surprise, Walker brushed passed him, walked down the steps and spoke to Perry for a minute or two. Then, with an annoyed shake of his head, Walker rejoined the others on the porch. More cider was poured, more snacks consumed. Their conversation was inane and forced, not a one of them glancing Perry’s way.
Jacob knew they were trying to pretend everything was just fine, but Jacob thought their actions were stupid. Perry was standing right there. On his property. He’d stolen money from his parents, he’d sold drugs to other kids in their community. He was bad news, he was trouble and he deserved nothing. Not even to be ignored.
How could his friends look past that?
When another minute passed and Perry still stood on the sidewalk, Jacob walked down the steps. “What are you still doing here? You know you’re not wanted, don’t you?”
“I know. After all, you’ve made sure of that, Jacob.” Laughing softly, Perry added, “I don’t think I would be welcome to even buy a stick of butter in your store.”
“You’d be correct.”
A look of pain flashed through Perry’s eyes. Surprising Jacob. And, for an instant, making him feel guilty.
Though he sensed his friends behind him were listening-and maybe didn’t even completely approve of the way he was acting- Jacob didn’t give up. “You need to go. I don’t want you here.”
Perry walked closer. Now only a few feet separated them.
Perry was at least thirty pounds heavier than Jacob, and had a good two inches on him, too. A prickly sense of fear inched up Jacob’s spine.
With a hard glare, Perry said, “So is it now against the law to stand here?”
“I don’t know if it’s against the law or not. It don’t matter, though. My father doesn’t want to see you ever again,” he retorted. Though his father had never said that. “I sure don’t.”
An expression flew across Perry’s face. Perhaps it was disdain? Maybe more like disappointment?
After another second, Jacob added, “If Deborah wants to stay without you, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”
Jacob waited for Perry to argue. To refuse to budge. But instead, he just shrugged and walked away, his shoulders drooping slightly.
Almost as if he had been the one with a reason to be hurt.
Again, Jacob felt guilty. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so mean? Maybe there could’ve been a better way to remind Perry that he’d been the one to ruin their friendship, not Jacob?
His mind on that, he turned around and walked back up the steps. But when he looked at Deborah, sitting calmly there on his family’s front porch...just like her family had done nothing wrong...his anger and frustration got the best of him again.
“Listen, I’m going to start locking up. If you all want to hang out together, that’s fine. But do it someplace else.”
Walker stood up to him. “Jacob, I know you’ve got a grudge against Perry, but you need to settle down. I don’t understand why you’re acting so crazy.”
Walker didn’t understand. None of them did. And, maybe he was acting a little crazy.
Actually, he probably was. As he grabbed a plate of donuts and strode into the dark store, he fought to control his temper.
Prayed for guidance.
Because one thing was sure. If he didn’t find a way to control his temper very soon... he would do something he would regret.
Chapter 1
“Most folks don’t know this, but Perry was afraid of the dark.” Deborah Borntrager
‘It is better to look ahead than to look back and regret’
Deborah Borntrager gazed at the Amish saying that her grandmother had neatly stitched as a sampler years and years ago and tried to embrace th
e notion.
But, as always, the pithy statement seemed far too corny to say and far too difficult to adopt. She’d always thought the simple saying was a little too ‘simple’. Especially since lately, all she was doing was looking back with regrets.
But maybe that’s why her mother had hung the sampler on Deborah’s bedroom wall when she was a little girl? Looking backward instead of forward had long been her flaw.
After neatly securing her dark brown hair, pinning on her kapp, then placing her black bonnet on, she walked past Perry’s old room and paused for a moment in his doorway.
Her gaze swept past his unmade bed, the dust gathered on his bureau, the cobwebs in the corners of the room. Though the police hadn’t been there since the day he disappeared, her mother had steadfastly refused to change a thing..
Not even when his lifeless body had been found at the bottom of a well.
It wasn’t the way of the Amish to dwell on a death, but for her family, it was hard to let Perry go. Often, Deborah heard her mother enter his room late at night, but she never sat on the bed or touched anything. Instead, she’d just stand in the room and cry.
She wrapped her arms around herself, felt her grief drape her like a cloak. Swallowing hard, she backed out of the doorway and continued down the narrow hallway, past the washroom and the closed door of her parents’ room, and trotted down the stairs, her shoes clicking softly on the wooden steps.
Once again, her father had left the house early for the fields, leaving the kitchen to her mother.
And once again, her mother hadn’t gotten out of bed.
In the weeks since Abby Anderson had found Perry’s body at the bottom of a well, her mother’s health had steadily declined. She’d become weak and listless, and even tonics didn’t seem to help much.
Deborah supposed she couldn’t blame her mother. No woman wanted to outlive her son. And no woman ever wanted to hear that her child had been murdered.
Instead of making coffee and breakfast for her mother like she usually did, Deborah fastened her cloak and left the house as quickly as possible. She was going to find a job today.
Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One Page 22