by Beverly Bird
Adam guzzled coffee, closing his eyes to rub the back of his head. “Got any aspirin?”
“There’s a gift shop in the lobby. Never use the stuff, myself.”
“Okay.” He made himself think. “Joe Lapp. You should start with Sugar Joe Lapp. I’ll drive you out there.”
“Then make yourself scarce,” Jake suggested.
“What are you going to do, strong-arm him?”
Jake stared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you these days? No, I’m not going to strong-arm him. I’m going to talk to the man. You always muddle things up when you come with me. You ask the wrong things at the wrong time.”
Adam forced himself to relax. That was true enough. “Joe and his wife are good people. They’re the ones who have Bo.”
Jake scowled into his coffee. “What are the odds of Bo remembering me, do you think? Maybe my showing up might help.”
Adam scowled. “He used to see even less of you than he did of me.” Jannel had never liked Jake. She’d probably been afraid he would pick up on her cocaine habit. At the time she’d just acted as if his devil-may-care attitude was beneath her.
“Yeah, well, it was just a shot.” Jake drained his coffee. “Anyway, tell me about the Lapps.”
“They’re the only ones who actually saw her.”
“Jannel? I thought we were looking for the guy who came after her six months later.”
“We are. They saw him, too. And they can probably tell you who else was in that church service, who else you should talk to. That’s where the guy turned up.”
“Good enough. Let’s go.”
“I need a shower,” Adam muttered.
“You’re big on showers all of a sudden, bro. Why don’t you just jump in that creek I passed this morning? It’s probably colder. Or better yet, do something to take off the edge. Judging by your tardiness last night, the pretty Mariah is willing.”
Adam was on top of him with one quick move. Speed was usually Jake’s style. Brute strength was his own. But this time he acted fast, without thought, and he had his brother pinned against the wall before either one of them could fully react.
“One thing,” Adam said roughly. “We need to get one thing straight here.”
Jake lifted a brow at him. Just as when they had fought in Dallas, he kept his hands at his sides. He wasn’t a saint. He took great pride in sinning. But he had one small scrap of family left here, and the well-being of that scrap had been worrying him for a while now.
“Go ahead,” he suggested. “Vent. Just try to spare the nose. It’s my best feature.”
Adam gritted his teeth. “This...this thing with Mariah—what—ever the hell it is—is not a laughing matter. I don’t want to joke about it. She’s off-limits insofar as discussion goes. You got it?” He thought a moment. “For that matter, she’s off-limits to you, period.”
“She’s got you on your knees,” Jake said quietly.
“No. Nor is she about to. Now let’s find Jannel and get free of this godforsaken place before everything gets even more screwed up.”
“Fine by me, bro. I’d just as soon see you and Bo come home, too. If you stay here much longer, you’ll be getting religious next.”
“Not a chance,” Adam snapped, finally letting go of his shirt. “God abandoned us Wallaces a long time ago.”
“Well...good. Just as long as you remember that.”
Adam rubbed at his headache again. “We can cool our heels long enough for you to grab a shower if you want.”
Jake grinned. “Had mine no more than an hour ago.”
Adam knew better than to ask where.
Mariah couldn’t function, couldn’t concentrate. The children were shouting and she had a headache. She knew she had to restore order, and she couldn’t find the will.
It was early Thursday afternoon. She hadn’t heard from Adam today. She hadn’t expected to. Whatever his brother had come to the settlement for, it obviously didn’t concern her or require her assistance.
She hugged herself and stared blankly out at the sea of small faces. She knew that what had happened last night between them wasn’t the only thing that was bothering her. As a general rule, she was always honest with herself. And she knew that she found it very hard to teach right now because all this was going to be snatched away from her very soon.
She was immensely grateful to Sarah Lapp for letting her know what was going on. And she wished desperately that the woman hadn’t told her. Then she would have had just a little more time, another few days, maybe a week or more of ignorant bliss.
“Noah, get down off that chair,” she managed. “Why are you so wound up today?” As if she didn’t know. Subconsciously, at least, he was in turmoil. Her heart hurt for him. “Daniel, stop pulling at Gracie’s hair,” she went on. “What is wrong with you children, all of a sudden?”
They went still, looking at her. She knew what was wrong with them. They sensed the helplessness without her. Children had a sixth sense that always told them when they could get away with pushing the envelope. This was one of those times.
She forced herself to her feet, her legs feeling oddly hollow as they had since she had gotten out of Adam’s car the previous night. You’re going to let them kick you and you’re going to crawl away on your belly like you deserve it. She herded the first- and second-graders to their art easels at the back of the room. You’re not going to take that skill, that talent, to a public school, no matter how much they might need you there. She got the third-and fourth-graders seated at their desks. No matter that you can juggle eight grades at once and you’d be a godsend. She passed tests out to her fifth-graders and got the sixth-graders to the blackboard. You’d stop teaching first, because you believe. She stared at the seventh- and eighth-graders, wondering what it was she’d meant to do with them this afternoon.
She did believe, she thought, going back to her desk to consult her notes. And it was as simple and as complex as that.
Damn him, she thought angrily, throwing the notes down, shocking herself. Damn him for making her think, making her doubt, making her want, and then going away.
Adam arrived at Mariah’s door at exactly noon on Sunday. Sugar Joe had asked them to come at twelve-thirty. Adam wanted to keep his time with her to a minimum. It shamed him a little to admit that he’d actually tried to think of a way not to take her with him, even knowing how much it meant to her to be included.
“Hey,” he said when she opened the door. He talked fast and abruptly. “I thought we’d skip the buggy routine this time. It’s occurred to Joe by now that I’m not Amish. He’ll just have to live with it.” No way in hell was he going to allow himself to be alone with her in those close confines again, he decided.
Mariah only nodded. She already wore her coat and shawl. She swept past him and went outside to his car, opening the door herself before he could do it for her. He was perversely irritated.
He was behaving exactly the way she had thought he’d behave, Mariah realized. Distant. Polite, but with an edge. And her heart was breaking.
She had determined to ask him about the other children today. She wanted to do it now, before they got to the Lappses’. She just wanted to get it over with. They were going to take her school away from her, anyway. It didn’t matter how good or how bad she was; her past sin, her only sin, would live forever. The deacons were not going to let her back into the community unless she confessed a guilt she did not feel. They were going to take her children from her, whether she tried to find Lizzie Stoltzfus and the others or not.
And Adam was already angry with her. He was already shutting her out. He couldn’t possibly grow more distant once she asked him to do this for the settlement. He was already about as far away as he could get
That being the case, there was no more reason to procrastinate. She would ask him, would do what she had to do to finally find those children, then she would get on with her life. Somewhere else, in some other Gemeide or county, where she knew virtually no one and would not ev
en have Katya to whisper with in the mornings.
“Adam,” she began. He didn’t answer. She glanced over at him as he drove. His jaw was set like stone. She repeated his name. “We have to talk.”
“No.”
“But—”
A nerve or something twitched at his jaw. “I said no, Mariah. It’s senseless. There’s not a damned thing that either one of us can say. No matter what you tell me...” He trailed off. No matter what she told him, he thought, actions spoke louder than words.
If he lived to be ninety, he would remember her panic, her shame, when that cop had knocked on the glass of the buggy. Shame for wanting him. Shame for giving in to a perfectly healthy, relatively harmless human need.
He had only been kissing her.
And if he lived to be ninety, he would remember that skin at the top of her stockings. He knew it was there now. He couldn’t even look at her without envisioning it, though he had “seen” it with only his touch, with his hands.
Mariah’s heart slammed as she watched him and understood. He thought she wanted to talk about what had happened between them the other night.
“No, Adam,” she protested. “I don‘t—it isn’t—” But then, already, he was stopping the car in the Lapps’ drive.
How had they gotten here so quickly? She’d been woolgathering, she thought helplessly, that was how. Procrastinating again, in some small measure. Mariah closed her eyes for a brief moment.
“Look,” Adam said, turning the ignition off. He finally hitchedaround in the seat to face her, but he kept his hand on the door handle. “I can’t apologize enough for what happened. I was sorry then. I said as much, didn’t I? I should never have touched you. And now I’m doubly sorry that I did.”
Pain, shame, embarrassment shimmied through her, taking her breath. Mariah brought her chin up with great effort. “Of all the things you might have said to me,” she whispered, “I don’t think any could hurt as much as that.”
Chapter 14
“Damn it! Damn it!”
She was already out of the car. Adam pushed on his own door and jumped out as well. How could she twist this? How dare she twist it? He hadn’t been the one hyperventilating when the cop had knocked on the buggy window.
By the time his feet hit the pavement, she was fairly running to the Lapps’ porch. Sugar Joe came out. Mariah said something to him briefly and rushed past him, inside.
Joe intercepted Adam as he went after her. “Hold up there, friend.”
“I have to—”
“I reckon there’s a lot you have to do, but you’re going to have to pick a few priorities first.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam growled.
“There’s been a slight change of plans.”
Adam felt his heart kick. Painfully. This day was going to hell in a hand basket. “Like what?” he asked warily.
“Noah claims he’s sick.”
Claims? Adam settled down. “What are you saying?” But he thought he already knew.
“He told Sarah that he had the calf’s flu,” Joe explained.
“The calf’s—” Adam made a choked sound. In that moment, all thoughts of Mariah fled from his mind.
“He won’t come out of his room.”
“He knows,” Adam said finally. “He senses, suspects something. Maybe he even remembers me a little, from being around me again. And he’s scared.”
“That would be my guess,” Joe agreed. “My opinion is that maybe you ought to go talk to him yourself. Maybe you ought to let him know that the road ahead isn’t so scary or rocky as he might think.” Joe finally moved to let him by. “Second door on the right, upstairs. I’ll keep Matt down here, otherwise you’ll never get a word in edgewise.”
“Thanks,” Adam managed, and went inside.
He climbed up the steps as though lead weighted his heels. Mariah was nowhere around. He needed her. Yet, he knew he couldn’t drag her any more deeply into this than she already was. He was on his own.
He even wished, for one insane moment, that Jake hadn’t gone home. Even his brother’s dubious, irreverent company would be better than braving this alone. But Jake had talked to everyone he could talk to, had learned details about the strange man’s appearance that Adam wouldn’t even have thought to ask for, and last night he had taken his notes back home to the DPD. Their artist would draw up a composite of the man based on the information Jake had gotten, and they would give it to Berry to put on their website on the Internet.
So, Adam thought, he was very much under his own power on this one. He reached the top of the stairs. He thought his knees were knocking together.
He was a damned coward.
Second door on the right. He went to it and stood on the threshold, looking inside. Bo was laying on the bed, his back to the door. The room startled Adam because it wasn’t so different from the one he and Jake had shared as boys. Except that they had had twin beds, he thought, and here there was a large double one. It was covered with beautiful quilting, something with royal-blue inserts that made the hem fuller where it brushed the floor. There was an oil lamp on each bedside table. Muddy rubber boots, a tennis racket, two hockey sticks and a baseball bat were crammed into a corner.
A rack of hunting rifles sat high and safely out of reach on one wall. Adam thought that dragging the desk chair over would give either Bo or Matt easy access to the guns. Then again, there was a certain discipline to these boys that had been lacking in him and Jake. Despite their high jinks, Bo and Matt really seemed to want to please. His and Jake’s obedience—what little of it there had been—had been wrung out of them through fear.
Adam cleared his throat and his son twisted around to look at him. “Better not come in here,” Bo said after a moment. “I got cow germs.”
“I...uh, I’ll take my chances. If it’s okay with you, I mean.”
Another long heartbeat passed. Bo finally shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Adam sat carefully on the edge of the bed, on the side Bo was facing. He had no idea where to start, what to say now. Maybe he hadn’t learned so much by losing him, after all.
His heart was beating like a snare drum. This was the closest he’d been to his son physically in over four years. It made him ache. His hands burned to reach out and touch him.
“I used to be like you, didn’t I?” Bo asked suddenly.
Adam’s heart skipped. “What makes you say that?” he countered cautiously.
“Matt told me.”
Adam cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
“A long time ago.”
“What exactly did he tell you?”
“Just that he doesn’t remember me being here when he was little. But he’s not so much bigger than me. Older, 1 mean,” he corrected quickly, not willing to give Matt any edge, even if the other boy wasn’t here to hear it. “I figure we should have been together all along, you know? He should remember me when we were, like, pooping in diapers.” He paused. “And I don’t remember being real little with him, either.”
“Yeah,” Adam said with difficulty. “Well, I can see how you came to that conclusion.”
“Plus I don’t look like him. I don’t look like any of them.” Bo hugged something tighter to his chest. Adam looked closer, scowling, and realized it was a teddy bear. His heart spasmed. Bo saw him looking at it and he tucked it quickly under his ribs, out of sight.
“Do you remember where you came from?” Adam heard himself ask through the roar of blood in his ears.
“No,” Bo said quickly. “Well, just...sort of. A little.”
“What do you remember?”
“Riding in a car. A real fast red car. Sometimes I thought I dreamed it.” Jannel’s Corvette. Adam felt hope swell in his gut. “I didn’t tell Matt,” Bo went on. His chin thrust out. “Told him he was stupid.”
“How come?”
“Because I don’t want to be different. I don’t want to be from anywhere else.”
Adam’s heart was cavorting n
ow. “It’s not so bad everywhere else. I kind of like it.”
Bo sat up. He watched Adam suspiciously for a moment, realized the bear was in full view again and reached quickly to shove it under the pillow. “How come you came here?”
Oh, God, Adam thought. The fear. It was like something alive in his chest, something with claws, trying to wriggle up into his throat. He was excruciatingly aware of saying anything that would frighten him, hurt him, this child who was his reason for being. If he said the wrong thing now...
Don’t even think about it. He followed his heart.
“To see if you might want to go back there,” he said bluntly.
Something spasmed visibly through the boy. “No.”
“Okay,” Adam said with a neutrality that killed him.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean if I say no, you’ll just go away and leave me alone?”
“I didn’t say that. If you don’t want to go, then I guess I’ll just hang around here until you change your mind. There’s no hurry...Noah.”
Bo’s eyes narrowed—and something raked through Adam’s chest all over again. In that moment, despite the differences in their coloring, he looked exactly like Jake. Family.
“Is that my real name?” he asked after a moment. “Or is it just my name here?” He looked near tears. Adam nodded. “Do you know what my other name used to be?”
“Yeah.”
“You lied.”
Adam flinched. “I did?”
“You pretended to just come here...you know, because. But you came to get me.”
Adam took a careful breath. “I never once said I didn’t come here to get you. I never said anything at all.” And is that what you want to teach him about lying? That half truths are all right? ‘“Maybe that was wrong of me. Maybe I should have told you right from the start.”
“Yeah. No. I don’t know. It just seems kinda wrong.”
“Maybe it was.”
“I don’t want to go back with you.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
“I might never want to go.”
“Well, just think about it.”