“Nee.” She went to him. She had to make him understand. “I wasn’t lying to you when I left. You do deserve better than me.”
“Stop saying that!”
He reached out and pulled her to him. And before she could catch her breath, he kissed her.
Her kiss was as sweet as he’d imagined. It filled him, comforted him. He’d expected her to pull away. Instead, she leaned into him. His arms tightened around her shoulders. Then, before he reached the point of no return, he pulled away.
“Don’t expect me to say I’m sorry,” he said. “Because I’m not.” He drew in a deep breath, gratified to see that she was also struggling for air. After that kiss she could never deny she cared for him. He knew her true feelings now. And they matched his own.
She backed up a step or two. “This won’t work.”
“Yes, it will.” Sawyer tempered his tone. “We can make it work, Laura.”
And he knew it was true. He knew it because he had risked everything to come and get her.
His grandmother’s detective had told him where to find her. She was headed to Jasper, a small town in Steuben County, New York, just across the border from Pennsylvania.
All during the four-and-a-half-hour drive from Manhattan, Sawyer had steamed and stewed, furious with Laura, with his grandmother, with his birth parents. Sick of all the lies and betrayal. Sick of the incessant restlessness, the confusion about his place in the world. Sick of the years of grief and pain over his parents’ death.
His life had never truly been his own. He was twenty-one years old and others were still making decisions for him. Still telling him what to do.
No more.
He looked at Laura, gazed into blue eyes filled with a mixture of pain and love. This was it. If he didn’t convince her they belonged together, he’d never have another chance. He wasn’t going to let her go. “Laura, listen to what I’m saying.”
“You’re not listening to what I’m saying!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. He wanted to wipe them away, but he didn’t dare. “I’m broken, Sawyer. Inside and out.”
“So am I.”
“Not like me.” She ran her fingers down her face, over the scars, over the tears. “I don’t understand it. I did everything right. I followed the rules. I loved my family. I joined the church. I worked hard.”
She turned her back on Sawyer. “I fell in love. The man I loved stole money from my familye. Then when I wanted him to pay, he tried to destroy me. He tossed a firebomb through that window. I still have nightmares from it, Sawyer. The glass, the pain. The fear. Why did God let this happen?”
He came up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her to face him. “My parents died. I was in foster care. I was abused.” Despite himself, he felt his eyes well up and his throat tighten. “The two most important people in my life lied to me until the day they died. Why did God let that happen to me?”
Laura sobbed. She touched his cheek. “Sawyer . . . I’m so sorry.”
“We’re all broken, Laura. And we’re all looking for someone to blame. God’s the easiest target. We let ourselves believe that if He loved us, things would be perfect. But we both know that’s not true.”
She nodded.
He led her to the edge of the bed. They sat down. “Since I was adopted, I’ve heard the same words over and over: God’s will. God’s plan. I never really understood what that meant. Until now. And I’m not sure I fully understand, but I know this much: Everything that’s happened in our lives has brought us to this moment. To each other.” He took her hand.
She gripped his hand. “You really believe that?”
“I do. Despite the mistakes we’ve made, the pain we’ve gone through, God has given us each other. You don’t have to face Mark King alone.”
“You’re not going to stop me from seeing him?”
He shook his head. “No. We need to end this. Tomorrow. Mark needs to pay for what he’s done. But not out of revenge. Out of justice.”
Laura sighed. “I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do. If I could even face him.” She looked at Sawyer. “I’m scared.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to be, Laura. You never have to be afraid again.”
“Señora Easely, is everything all right?”
Cora turned away from the window and faced Manuela. No, everything wasn’t all right. Sawyer was gone. And it was her fault. He promised he’d come back, but she wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Perhaps sometime in the future she would return to Middlefield and try to reestablish their relationship.
Or maybe she wouldn’t. Right now she was too exhausted to think about it. Her gaze went past Manuela’s shoulder to the stack of letters on the table.
Manuela glanced at them, then at Cora. “I’m sorry, Señora Easley. I know I shouldn’t have interfered. But the letters . . . I thought someday you might want them.”
Cora crossed her arms over her thin chest. She’d turned the thermostat up, and the fireplace was on full power. Still, she was chilled. “So you gave them to my grandson instead?”
Manuela nodded and stared at her feet. “I will pack my things.” She turned to go.
“Manuela,” Cora said. “Wait.”
The maid looked up. “Yes, Señora Easley?”
Cora took a breath. “Thank you.”
Manuela’s eyes went wide. “Perdóneme?”
“I said, thank you.”
“For what?”
Cora considered the question. Despite her disobedience, perhaps even outright deception, Manuela’s heart was in the right place. She had acted in Cora’s best interests. Where on earth would Cora could find anyone of equal character to replace her?
“For . . . caring,” she said.
“Then I am not fired?”
Cora felt a brief flare of warmth at her core. “No, Manuela. You are not fired.”
Manuela smiled. “I will get you some hot tea, sí?”
“That would be nice.”
When Manuela left, Cora sat back down in front of the fire and picked up one of Kerry’s letters. Her chest tightened, as if her heart were being squeezed into a small ball by an invisible force. She blinked back the tears, tears she’d refused to shed for a long time.
It was better that Sawyer found out this way. Through his mother’s words. Kerry was honest.
Cora wouldn’t have trusted herself to be the same.
Manuela appeared, carrying a silver tray with a white china teapot and matching teacup. She set the tray on the coffee table and poured the tea, then reached into her pocket and pulled out Cora’s cell phone. “It rang while I was in the kitchen.”
Cora took the phone. As Manuela walked away, Cora looked at the display. Dr. Henry’s office. She hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon. It had only been two days since her appointment. Two days since Sawyer left.
She redialed the number and requested to speak to the nurse.
“Mrs. Easley, thank you for calling us back. Dr. Henry would like to schedule a follow-up appointment with you as soon as possible.”
Cora’s hand shook so much that she almost dropped the phone. “Why?”
“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to give specifics over the phone—”
“I will not ask you again. And if you value your job, you will tell me why Dr. Henry is in such a hurry to see me.”
There was a pause, and the nurse drew a deep breath. “Mrs. Easley, I do value my job. And I want to keep it. But as I said, I am not allowed to give you that information. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll try to get Dr. Henry on the line.”
Before Cora could object, there was a click, and a bland Muzak rendition of “My Cherie Amour” filled the earpiece. She sighed, picked up her cup, and sipped at the now-tepid tea.
The nerve of that nurse! Everyone in her employ knew that she hated to be kept waiting, including Dr. Henry and his staff.
The elevator music segued into “Can’t Smile without You.” Halfway thro
ugh the second verse, a voice jolted Cora back to the present. “Mrs. Easely. Dr. Henry here. How can I help you?”
“You can tell me what the blazes is going on,” Cora snapped. “That rude and uncooperative nurse of yours—”
“Is just doing her job,” Dr. Henry interrupted.
“Fine,” Cora said. “So you tell me. What’s the big rush that I need to come in immediately?”
Dr. Henry cleared his throat. “It’s best not to do this over the phone. We need to run a few more tests, and—”
“You’ve already taken more blood from me than a vampire,” Cora said. “I refuse to submit to anything else until I know the diagnosis.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Very well, Mrs. Easley,” he said. “You have Parkinson’s disease.”
CHAPTER 29
Sawyer pulled the rental car into the driveway of the modest Amish house. Laura looked at him and tried to muster a smile. Her eyes were still swollen from crying last night. Even after he’d left to stay in his own room, she’d continued to cry. Not just for her losses, but for his. For the way she’d rejected him. Then, finally, she made her way to happy tears, that she’d found a man who was truly faithful, one she could love and who loved her.
“Are you ready?” Sawyer asked.
Laura nodded. “I want to get this over with.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Let’s do it.”
With each step toward the house, her palms dampened, despite the freezing air. The detective had told her that Mark King was staying with the Yoders, the family that owned this home and the farmland surrounding it. The Yoders had a daughter named Miriam, a year younger than Laura.
Mark’s current target. Laura was sure of that.
She felt Sawyer’s presence close behind her, bolstering her confidence. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
A young girl of about four or five answered “Hello?”
Laura bent down a little. “I’m looking for a man named Mark King. Is he here?”
She shook her head, the strings of her kapp swaying against her shoulders. Red fruit juice stained her upper lip. “Nee.”
“Are you sure?” Laura frowned. She was positive this was the address the detective gave her. “Does Miriam Yoder live here?”
“Who is it, Martha Anne?” A young woman appeared behind the little girl. She looked at Laura, then at Sawyer. “Can I help you?”
Sawyer stepped forward. “Do you know a man named Mark King?”
The young woman frowned. “Martha Anne, go help Mammi in the kitchen.” She touched the girl’s shoulders and gently pushed her farther into the house, then turned back to Laura. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Are you Miriam?” Laura asked.
“It’s none of your business. I think you should geh now.” The woman moved to close the door, but Sawyer stopped her.
“It’s very important we find Mark King,” he said, holding the door so that she couldn’t shut it in his face. “He’s a dangerous man.”
“I already said, I don’t know him.”
A thought occurred to Laura. “There’s a man staying with you. He’s a little shorter than him.” She gestured to Sawyer. “He has light brown hair and a chipped tooth.”
The woman’s face went pale. “Matt?”
“He changed his name,” Laura said to Sawyer.
“Makes sense,” Sawyer said. He looked at Miriam again.
“His name isn’t Matt. It’s Mark King, and we need to see him right away. You and your family could be in danger.”
Miriam came out on the front porch, shutting the door behind her. “I don’t appreciate you saying such lies about my fiancé.”
Laura shook her head. “They aren’t lies.” She pointed to her face. “See these? Mark did this.”
Mei mann’s name is Matt. Matt Kingston.” She frowned “again, then shook her head. “You need to leave now.”
Laura looked at Sawyer.
What were they supposed to do now?
“Thank you for your time.” Sawyer took Laura by the arm.
“Sorry to bother you.”
Miriam turned and hurried into the house. The door slammed behind her.
Sawyer led Laura down the steps of the front porch. “What are you doing? We can’t just leave.”
“We don’t have a choice. She’s protecting him. We can’t force her to tell us where he is.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“Right now, we’re going to the car.” He escorted her to the rental and opened the passenger door for her. Then he got inside. When he looked at her, he saw her body shaking.
“Cold?”
“Not cold. Mad.” She looked at him, fury lighting her eyes. “He wins again.”
“This isn’t about winning, Laura. And I didn’t say we were leaving. Not yet, anyway. Just give me a chance to think.” He gripped the steering wheel but didn’t turn on the car. After a moment he said, “I think we’re going to have to call the police.”
Laura handed him the cell phone Cora had given her and stared out the window while he dialed. “I guess we don’t have a choice. I guess—” She hesitated as a movement caught her eye.
Someone was running into the field behind the house. “Wait a minute.” She leaned forward. “Look, Sawyer. Is that—?”
“I’m gonna find out.” He tossed the phone into her lap and shot out the door.
“Sawyer, wait!”
But he was already running toward the field.
Sawyer’s lungs burned. He was gaining on the man, who had to be Mark King, even though his hair was cut in a Yankee haircut. Who else would be running that fast into an empty field?
“Stop!” Sawyer yelled, not really expecting Mark to comply.
But the distraction was enough to slow him down. Mark looked over his shoulder and stumbled. Sawyer picked up speed. He closed in, reached for Mark’s shirt, and yanked hard, dragging him to the ground.
Mark scrambled out of his grasp and tried to get to his feet, but Sawyer was too quick for him. He snatched his ankle and pulled the man toward him.
Mark lashed out with a fist and connected with Sawyer’s jaw. It was almost enough to shake Sawyer, but he held on, then flipped him over and pinned him to the ground. He straddled his back, holding Mark’s arms behind him. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Mark laughed. A dead, hollow sound. “Are you an undercover cop or something?”
“I’m a friend of Laura’s.” Despite himself, he tightened his grip on Mark’s arms. “A good friend.”
Mark laughed again, his cheek pressed to the short grass. “So she’s alive, then? Too bad.”
Sawyer felt the anger rise in him. The man was crazy and cruel. Sawyer wanted to snap him in two. Black dots swam before his eyes as he fought the urge to pummel Mark.
Then he remembered Laura. Justice, not revenge. The promise to his parents about joining the church. If he was Amish, he would be expected to forgive. To let Mark go and trust that God would bring His own justice.
But he wasn’t Amish yet. And who was to say this wasn’t part of God’s plan?
Laura scrambled out of the car and ran to the Yoders’ backyard. She could hear a woman screaming. When she rounded the corner of the house, she saw Miriam where the field met the yard, yelling at Sawyer to leave Mark alone.
Laura looked out into the field. She could see Sawyer had Mark against the ground. Neither man moved, but she could hear the faint sound of cold laughter that chilled her heart.
“You have to stop him!” Miriam ran to her and clutched her arm. “He’s going to kill him.”
“Nee. He’s not.” An unexpected calmness came over her. Sawyer had Mark under control. He would finally get the justice he deserved. She turned to Miriam. “You can’t protect Mark anymore.”
“His name isn’t Mark! And I’m not protecting him.” She cast a worried look at the men in the field.
“I love him.”
“So did I. This is how he repaid me.” When Miriam wouldn’t turn around, Laura moved to stand in front of her. “Look at mei face, Miriam. Mark did this. He tried to kill me. Before that he stole money from mei familye.”
“You’re lying.”
“He was so kind at first. So sweet. When I first met him, he gave me all his attention. Said everything I wanted to hear.”
Miriam looked away.
“He told me he loved me. Wanted to marry me. Wanted to be a part of mei familye and part of our bakery business. And once I said yes, he started asking questions. Lots of them. If I didn’t answer them right away, or he thought I might not be telling him everything, he would get agitated.” She swallowed, but the memories didn’t hurt as much anymore. Neither did they bring up the well of anger that filled her for so many months. “Aren’t there times when things seem wrong? When you have a strange feeling inside, and it’s not a gut one?”
In the distance she could hear the sound of sirens. Laura’s shoulders relaxed. It was almost over. “Miriam, hear what I’m telling you. Let him geh. He doesn’t love you. I don’t think he’s capable of love.” She pointed to her face again. “This is all he’s capable of. Pain. Destruction. Regret.”
Miriam looked at her, tears in her eyes. “He really did that to you?”
Laura nodded. The sirens grew closer. She looked at Sawyer and Mark in the field. They were now on their feet, with Sawyer holding Mark’s arms behind his back. As they neared, she could see the smirk on Mark’s face. It changed to pleading when he saw Miriam.
“You have to help me,” he said to her.
She backed away from him.
“Miriam? Don’t tell me you believe what she said. She’s crazy. Look at her. She cut herself with a razor blade. She hates herself that much, just like she hates me.”
Laura heard footsteps behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was the police.
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