“A horse, I think,” Jimmy said, peering into the woods. He gave a snort. “Somebody’s gonna be sorry they left a barn door open.”
Wait. What?
“That was Lodestar!” Jimmy swung out of the buggy and ran into the woods, calling Lodestar’s name. He stopped and listened, hoping to hear some sound that the horse was near. The woods were silent.
Slowly, Jimmy walked back to the buggy and climbed in.
“You’re sure that was your new horse?” Galen said. “It blew past us pretty fast. I couldn’t tell if it was a bear or a buck.”
Jimmy hung his head. “I’m sure.”
“Let’s go to your farm and double-check.” Galen clucked for the horse to move forward and drove down the road, turning into the Fisher driveway. Jimmy’s eyes immediately went to the paddock where he had left Lodestar grazing just a few hours earlier.
Empty. The paddock was empty.
11
In the warm kitchen of Eagle Hill, Bethany washed dishes, suds up to her elbows. Mim dried and put the dishes away. Seated at the kitchen table, Luke was reading his essay to them.
“‘Noah and his wife, Joan,’” he read, “‘lived on the Ark for a long time.’”
“What makes you think Noah’s wife is named Joan?” Bethany asked. “I don’t remember reading what her name was in the Bible.”
“Everybody knows that. Joan of Ark.”
Bethany and Mim burst into laughter. Luke ignored them and went back to his essay. “‘The ark came to its end on Mt. Error Fat. It is still up there, teetering on the top of the mountain, just waiting to be discovered by National Geographic magazine.’”
“Luke, where did you get that information?” Bethany asked, scratching her nose and leaving a spot of suds there.
“I made it up,” Luke said, looking pleased. “What do you think?”
“Luke, you can’t make up facts!” Mim protested. “You research facts. Facts are true. Made-up facts are not true.”
“Unless you happened to have interviewed Mr. and Mrs. Noah,” repeated Bethany, scouring out the soup pot, making Luke smile.
“Can I say I did?”
“No!” Mim and Bethany shouted.
After Luke and Mim went upstairs, Bethany finished up the last of the dishes. She was standing at the sink, her hands immersed in soapy water, when she noticed movement outside, half in the darkness, half in the square of light thrown out from the window.
Her heart skipped a beat. Shootfire! She smacked her hands to her cheeks. Oh my. Oh my! He’s come for me! “Jake! Jake Hertzler.”
He didn’t hear her; he was staring in through a window now, as if searching the room. She waved a hand, signaling to him, and he startled, hesitated, then smiled.
She dried her hands before opening the kitchen door, and tried to appear calm as a cucumber, as if the arrival by night of Jake Hertzler lurking in the darkness was nothing unusual. As soon as she had closed the door, she ran into his arms. “You’ve come. You’ve finally come!” She was floating, lighter than air. She loved him, loved him so much! Her relief was so great, she felt dizzy with it. Jake had come for her!
Jake put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “Bethany, I’m here for Tobe’s sake.”
Her chin jerked up. He hadn’t even seen her in months and months . . . and he was worried about Tobe? About Tobe? “Well, that’s a fine way to greet your girlfriend.”
He glanced into the kitchen. “Keep your voice down. Tobe’s in trouble. He needs our help.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s he been?”
Jake took his time answering. “He’s been with your mother.”
Bethany’s head snapped up. “WHAT?”
“Hush!” he clamped his fingers over her mouth. “There’s something I need your help with. Tobe said he left something important in the basement. But when I looked in the windows—”
“You peeped in the basement windows? There’s a paying guest in there!”
“Relax. She didn’t see me. But obviously, stuff has been moved out of the basement. Where would it be now?”
She shrugged. She was still reeling over the news that Tobe was with their mother. She had no idea where her mother lived. Somehow, Tobe had tracked her down and was living with her? “I . . . I don’t know. I could ask Rose.”
“No!” Jake snapped. She stiffened and he noticed. His face softened as he added, “I don’t want Rose to find out about this. It’ll only make things worse for Tobe.”
“But she should be told if he’s in some kind of trouble. She’ll know what to do.”
“Legal trouble, Bethany. I’m trying to help him stay out of jail. We can’t get Rose involved in this—not yet. Not with the SEC lawyer sniffing around. It puts her in a tight spot. She’d have to turn him in or she could be in trouble herself. You understand, don’t you?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “I’m sorry, Bethany. I’m trying to do all I can to help your brother. Now I want you to think hard for a minute. Where would things be that were stored in the basement?”
She breathed in the familiar scent of Jake: Old Spice shaving cream and peppermint gum. He always smelled so good and looked so good—unlike most of the farm boys in Stoney Ridge who wore the barn on their boots. She wished she could stay in his arms forever. “What are you looking for, anyway?”
“Most importantly, two black books with red bindings.”
“Books?” She pulled back to look right at his eyes. “Tobe didn’t read.”
“These are ledger books. For Schrock Investments.”
“What’s the next most important thing?”
He hesitated. “I’m looking for a key. But I’m not sure Tobe took it. I couldn’t find it after the SEC cleaned the office out.”
She tilted her head. “What kind of key? For a car?”
“No. Smaller than that.” He shook his head. “Never you mind. The books are what I really need. What Tobe needs.”
“Where will you be?”
“I’m on the road a lot—interviewing all over, trying to find a job. But everyone seems to have been an investor in Schrock Investments or their grandmother was—it ain’t good. It’s been tough, you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it.”
He softened at that, and leaned in to kiss her on the lips, gentle and sweet, then he jerked his head back and glanced in the kitchen windows when he heard the sound of the boys yelling to each other. “I’d better go.” He kissed her again, before she could object. “Start looking for those books.”
Shootfire! “Jake! Wait! You can’t just show up and disappear like a spook. I want to know why my letter got returned!”
He grimaced, ashamed. “I hated to let the apartment go. Couldn’t make the rent. I’m just staying on friends’ couches.”
“Well, how am I supposed to reach you if I find those books?”
“Good point.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket and scribbled a number on it with a small pencil. “This is my cell phone number.”
Her eyes narrowed. “When did you get a cell phone?” And why didn’t you bother calling me on it?
He read her mind. “I got it for job interviews—but it’s the kind with limited minutes. Call me the minute you find those books.” He kissed her again. Then again and again, until the sound of her brothers’ footsteps thundering down the stairs jerked him away. “Trust me on this, honey. You find those books and we can help Tobe clear his name.” And he vanished into the shadows. She waited awhile, hearing his footsteps head down the driveway. In the distance, she heard a horse whinny and Silver Queen answer back from the barn. Then she heard the sound of Jake’s truck drive off.
Honey. He called me his honey! Bethany hugged herself with happiness. He still loved her. Of course he did. Why had she ever doubted?
She inhaled the sharp night air, feeling a surge of pleasure. Then it passed and in its place rushed a thou
ght that filled her with discomfort: Tobe has been staying with their mother. She wanted to know more, and yet she didn’t.
On Monday morning, Jimmy Fisher woke up a determined man. He marched into Galen’s kitchen and helped himself to a mug of coffee. “Where’s Naomi?” he asked.
“She’s not feeling too well this morning.”
Jimmy pulled out the kitchen chair and dumped three teaspoons full of sugar into his coffee cup.
Galen finished buttering his burnt toast. “Any luck finding the horse?”
“No, no sign of him.” He took a long sip of coffee. “But I am going to find Lodestar and get him back. Yesterday, I went to all the neighbors and told them to keep an eye out for him. If you can spare me for a few hours, I’m going to staple posters on telephone poles and street signs. Someone’s bound to have seen him. I was even thinking about taking out an ad in the paper, maybe adding a reward.”
“Well, I hope you do find him. But there are other horses in the world.”
“None like Lodestar. You haven’t seen him. When you do, you’ll know what I mean.”
“If he’s that fine a horse, someone will find him and keep him.”
“Now, Galen, that’s the difference between you and me. You’re negative. I’m positive. You’re pessimistic. I’m optimistic. You think people are all bad. I think there’s good in them. Someone will find him and return him to me.”
Jimmy snatched his hat off the wall peg and jammed it on his head. “I’m going out to look for him. I’ll be back in a few hours.” That horse was his destiny. He was going to find Lodestar. He was going to prove Galen King wrong.
Every few days, Rose stopped by the phone shanty to pick up her messages. She knew from experience that she couldn’t handle it more often. At first, her message machine was filled with pleas from people who had invested with Dean’s company. The first few months, after it all broke open, she would listen to the messages and her stomach would churn all day long. These people had trusted Dean with their life savings. So many people had been left penniless. Futures had been destroyed. Family homes had been foreclosed on. They begged Rose to return the money they had invested.
Didn’t they understand there was no money?
She took down the information and wrote letters to each person who called, explaining the situation. She tried to include some cash in each letter—$5 or $10 or $20. There was a part of her that wanted to scold these people for trusting so easily, for getting tempted by high returns on their investment. What made them think that Schrock Investments could beat the market? In a brutal recession? It made no sense.
Today, she was relieved to see there were only a handful of messages. The calls were coming less frequently now and in a way, that made her sad too. They had given up hope of getting their money back. She wished she could tell each one, “I haven’t forgotten! Just give me some time. I’m going to repay you, if it’s the last thing I do.” She picked up a pencil to take down notes from the messages. She had to listen carefully to the last one before it made sense. Then she listened to it again. As soon as her mind grasped what the message meant, she ran down the long driveway and pounded on the basement door. “Delia, something’s happened! Something terrible.”
Delia opened the door, an alarmed look on her face. “What’s wrong? Come in. What’s happened?”
Rose had to stop and take a deep breath after running from the shanty like that. “My first guest at Eagle Hill was a woman named Lois. Tony and Lois. She left a message that she had met you at . . . a gas station . . . and told you to come here. She had bright red hair—truly red, not orange-red—and orange lipstick.”
Delia nodded. “Yes. Yes, I remember her. She helped me pump gas.”
“She said that you seemed upset and looked like you needed a quiet place to be.”
“That’s exactly right. She’s the one who told me about your inn. Has something happened to her?”
Rose sat down on the couch. She took a deep breath. “She said that your picture is all over the television. As a missing person. The news said your son reported you as missing . . .”
“My son? My son, Will?”
“Yes . . . that your son is on every news station pleading for some information about where you might be.”
“Oh no.” A trace of color rose under Delia’s fair skin. “I should have called Will. I should have let him know. It’s just that he’s going through midterm exams and Charles didn’t want to let him know about our . . . marital problems.”
“Charles. Is your husband Dr. Charles Stoltz?”
“Yes. Why?” Then, impatiently, “Why?”
“Maybe you should sit down for this.”
Delia sank to the sofa and Rose sat beside her. “Lois said she just heard on the news that your husband has been taken to the police station for questioning. She said that there’s concern he might have something to do with your disappearance . . . that apparently he is having an affair.” She lowered her voice. “Lois said there is speculation growing that your husband killed you and has hidden your body.”
“Oh my,” Delia said. “Oh my.” She covered her face with her hands, but for just a moment. Then she let them fall to her lap in a gripping fist. “I should get to a phone. I need to straighten this all out.”
Rose bit her lip. “Lois already did. She said she called the police to let them know where you are.”
Delia looked sick. “Please tell me this is a bad dream.”
The sound of a siren was heard in the distance, getting louder and louder as it came up the road. Rose and Delia went to the window and watched a police car with a flashing red siren pull up the driveway. “As a matter of fact,” Rose said, “I think you’re wide awake.”
Delia Stoltz spent the next two hours at the sheriff’s office in Stoney Ridge, on the phone with the Philadelphia police, explaining that her husband was innocent—sort of, she wanted to add, but didn’t think it would be wise to complicate the situation. It was already far too complicated. “My husband did not kill me and hide my body,” she said in a wry tone. “I just didn’t happen to mention to him where I was going.”
As soon as the sheriff allowed, she called her son, Will. She felt terrible when she heard the relief in his voice.
“I’m coming down there,” Will said. “Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m leaving now.”
“No, Will—you’ve got exams to get through. I’m fine. I really am. I’ll call you each day if you like. I can’t get service out at the farm, but I’ll drive into town. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know where I was. But what made you think I went missing?”
“Dad called me, thinking you might have come to Ithaca. I started phoning your friends to see if they knew where you were. None of them had heard from you in weeks. You weren’t returning any of Dad’s or my phone messages. Dad said not to worry, but that only made me worry all the more. I mean, it’s not like you, Mom. Dad is hard to get hold of, but you’re always available. My imagination started rolling . . . too many CSI shows, I guess. So I called the police, thinking they might be able to locate your car or check with any hospitals to see if you might have been in an accident. Suddenly, it turned into a missing person’s report, then I was interviewed for the evening news, then someone at Dad’s office tipped off the police that Dad was having an affair with his attorney . . . and things got carried away.”
Delia rubbed her forehead. What a mess. “I’m sorry to have caused you concern. I just needed a little time to catch my breath. So much happened, so quickly.”
“Mom, I didn’t know about Dad and this attorney bimbo.”
“I just found out myself a few weeks ago. The day I found out about the cancer, in fact.”
There was a long silence. “Wait. What? You have cancer?”
Delia squeezed her eyes shut. How could she have blurted that without thinking? She kept her voice calm and steady. “They found a lump in my breast and took it out. I’m sure they got it all.” She wasn’t at all sure.
“I . . . haven’t gotten the results yet. I’m sure it’s all fine.” In fact, with each passing day, she felt a sense of growing dread about those results. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was too late to call today, but she would drive into town and call tomorrow.
“Does Dad know?”
“No. Not yet. I will tell him, Will.” Her voice was firm. “Let me do that.”
“So he’s having an affair with his lawyer while you’re recovering from cancer surgery.” His voice was filled with disgust.
“To be fair to him, he didn’t know, Will.”
She heard Will call his father an unmentionable word and she cringed. She didn’t want to become that kind of a woman—who told her son too much and turned him against his father. It wouldn’t take much, she knew—Will and Charles always had a fragile relationship. “Listen—this is between me and your father. Not you and him. Nothing has to change between the two of you.”
“Nothing has to change?” Will snorted. “Everything has changed! Dad destroyed our family. Life will never be the same again. Every holiday—Thanksgiving, Christmas—will be divided between parents. I’ve got plenty of friends from split-up families.” He paused. “Look, Dad’s . . . tomcatting . . . isn’t as important as your cancer. You’ve got to find out the results of the surgery. I don’t know when you’re planning to come home, but you can’t ignore this.”
“You’re right. I can’t.”
“I’ll come down to Stoney Ridge. I’ll tell my professors that my exams are just going to have to wait.”
“Will, I’m going to be fine.” She said it firmly, a mother to a son. “I can handle this. I won’t have you jeopardizing your future because of me. You stay put at Cornell and I’ll call you with the results. The minute I hear. Until then, no news is . . . no news.”
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