by Marta Perry
The ache in her heart now was quite separate from the anguish Trey had caused her. It wasn’t fair to punish others for what Trey had done, but how could she stay and risk seeing him again? It would be easier if she could convince herself to be angry, but she couldn’t manage it. She could only try to control the pain and disappointment.
“If...if I decide to go soon, I won’t do it without seeing everyone to say goodbye. And I’ll plan a trip to Ohio, so I can meet your wife and my little brothers and sisters.”
“That would be wonderful gut.” Tentatively he reached out to clasp her hand. “I hope you will stay. But if not, I understand.”
She nodded, unable to speak. Maybe Jacob sensed that, because he stood, pressed her hand again and left.
When the door closed behind him, she went automatically to snap the lock. Barney, walking beside her, looked at her with intelligent eyes. He whined softly, sensing her mood.
Going back to the sofa, Amanda sank down on it, trying to focus her thoughts on the future. Barney rested his head on her knees, looking up at her.
The future. How could she make plans for what happened next in her life, when everything seemed completely out of her control? She was sure of only one thing. Her plans, whatever they might be, wouldn’t include Echo Falls.
* * *
AMANDA WALKED DOWN the elegant staircase at the Winthrop house the next afternoon, sliding her hand along the polished rail. She’d thought it right to stop and see her great-grandmother before leaving town, but she couldn’t say it had been a successful visit. Elizabeth had been irritated—to say nothing of irritable. She didn’t see any necessity for Amanda to rush off so quickly, and Amanda had been forced to invent reasons, citing the ongoing battle over Juliet’s estate and the need to consult with her attorney there.
Only when she’d fudged the truth, implying she’d be back for a long visit soon, did Elizabeth calm down. With any luck, by the time Juliet’s estate was settled, Trey would have receded to a distant memory.
She could tell herself that, but she couldn’t manage to believe it. Amanda frowned, pausing for a moment on the steps.
“Amanda? Is anything wrong?” Mrs. Lindstrom had come into the hallway from the back of the house, and she stood drying her hands on her flowered apron.
“Nothing.” She couldn’t tell the woman what was really on her mind, and she tried to focus on more immediate concerns. “I thought Mrs. Winthrop seemed even more breathless than she was on my last visit. Maybe you should check on her.”
“Was she using her oxygen while you were there?” The housekeeper started up the stairs.
“No, no, she wasn’t. I noticed the tank, but I thought it might just be for emergencies.”
“She’s supposed to be using it, but that’s Mrs. Winthrop all over. Didn’t want you to think she was unwell, most likely.” Mrs. Lindstrom clucked her disapproval. “I’ll deal with her, stubborn as she is.”
Amanda nodded, smiling. They were a pair of stubborn women, but she didn’t doubt Mrs. Lindstrom’s ability to get her way when it came to something important.
The woman disappeared upstairs, and Amanda headed for the door. She seemed always to breathe a sigh of relief when it closed behind her. Unfortunately, this time she’d done it too soon, because she came face-to-face with Carlie, who had just parked her car behind Amanda’s.
Carlie stopped, too close to her for comfort. “Sucking up again?”
She tried to maintain her composure, but meeting Carlie again was too much. “Come off it,” she snapped. “If you don’t get along with your grandmother, don’t blame me for it.”
“So you do have a temper. I suppose you unleased it on Trey last night.”
“That’s none of your business.” She was suddenly exasperated, almost pitying this discontented cousin. “I get it that you don’t like the way things are here. I don’t even blame you. But you’re a grown woman. Why do you put up with it? Is your potential inheritance that important?”
“What do you know about it? If you’ve been raised all your life to expect something, then to have it snatched away—you don’t know what that’s like.”
Actually, she did. She knew exactly what it was like, although it wouldn’t do any good to tell Carlie that. She wouldn’t believe it, anyway.
“Look, you’re an educated person. You have talents. If the family won’t let you use them here, why not go somewhere else? Don’t you see how abnormal it is, all of you hanging on in this house, waiting for your grandmother to die?”
For a brief instant Carlie’s brittle facade seemed to crack, as if the real person inside was struggling to be free. Then she spun away, ran to her car and jumped in. Yanking the wheel to pull out, she grazed Amanda’s car and sped off down the drive toward the street.
Wincing at the scrape of metal, Amanda went to inspect the damage, running her finger over the scratches in the paint. Not bad, but annoying. Her poor vehicle was really taking a beating since she’d been here.
But the repair work could wait until she got back to the city. She slid in, started the car and took the driveway slowly. She was certainly getting an odd assortment of goodbyes, although Carlie, of course, didn’t know she was leaving. She’d no doubt find that cause for rejoicing.
Her cell phone rang as she stopped at the end of the driveway, and she took a quick look. Trey, again. He was persistent, but she could be stubborn enough to match. She ignored the call and then turned the phone off for good measure. Explanations weren’t going to help, and she didn’t want to listen to them.
She’d go back to the farm, finish her packing and get ready to leave tomorrow. The goodbyes that waited for her there almost made her want to sneak out in the dead of night. But she’d go through with it. They’d all been too kind to her to walk away without regrets.
And then what? Go back to the city, talk to Robert, pick up the threads with her friends and notify the clinic she wouldn’t be back. She didn’t have the slightest idea what was next for her.
When she reached the farm, no one was in sight. Glad she wouldn’t have to stop and chat at the moment, she drove on to the cottage.
To her surprise, she saw a note shoved into the doorframe. Pulling it free, she unlocked the door and went inside, letting Barney out as she did so.
Frowning, she unfolded the sheet of paper. If it was from Trey...
But it wasn’t. Printed in pencil, it was from her father.
I feel I should make a last visit to where I found your mother that day. I hoped you might go with me. I am going now, but I hope you’ll meet me there.
It was signed Jacob. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable enough yet to say anything else.
Amanda hesitated, glancing at her watch. He hadn’t said when he was leaving, but it couldn’t have been too long, surely. He’d been helping Amos with fence repairs when she’d driven out, and her visit to the Winthrop place hadn’t been lengthy.
He shouldn’t be there alone. That thought came with a certainty she couldn’t question. There wasn’t any danger now, was there? She ought to be with him.
Quickly she changed pants and shoes, substituting her heavier walking shoes for the flats she’d worn to town. By the time she was ready to leave, Barney was waiting at the door.
There was no reason not to take him, and she’d feel better with him along. Clicking to him, she hurried back to the car, the dog at her heels.
* * *
TREY SNAPPED OFF the cell phone and glared at it. He’d probably called Amanda at least seven or eight times. Not only wasn’t she going to answer, she’d apparently turned her phone off to avoid his calls.
He shoved himself to his feet. Fine. If she wouldn’t respond to his calls, they’d just see what happened when he turned up in person. Although he might do better to lose the belligerent attitude before he saw her.
Leaving the office with a quick goodbye, he headed for the Burkhalter place. He might as well admit it to himself. He was annoyed with Amanda, when the person who was really in the wrong was himself.
No explanations, unless she asked for them. A plain and simple apology was called for here. He’d been wrong, and he had to admit it. He’d been trying to see both sides, trying to balance his loyalties, and it hadn’t worked.
The ironic thing was that his father, whom he’d told himself he was protecting, would have been disappointed in him. He knew now what his father would have said if he’d put the matter to him. You owe a duty to your client, to the law and to yourself.
He’d taken the easy way out, thinking Amanda need never know that his father had taken part in the actions that sent Melanie away. Worse, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them where she went because of client confidentiality. But the easy road had turned out to be a dead end.
Trey pulled into the farm lane to find himself directly behind a horse and buggy. Sarah was driving, and from the bags piled in the back, it looked as if she’d been grocery shopping.
She stopped by the back door, so he had to halt, as well. He pulled over and parked. It would be faster to walk to the cottage than to wait for groceries to be unloaded.
“Trey. I’m glad to see you. You want Amanda, ain’t so?”
“Is she here?” He seized a couple of the grocery bags, but Sarah grasped them from him.
“The kinder will take those in.” And they must have been watching for their mother, because three of the girls hurried out of the house to begin unloading. “I don’t know if she’s back yet or not. She left some time ago, I figured to see her great-grandmother.”
“I’ll go up and see...” Trey began, but again Sarah forestalled him.
“Ruthie will go.” She caught one of the girls. “Run up and see if Cousin Amanda’s car is there.”
Nodding, the child spurted off, probably preferring that to grocery detail.
Sarah studied his face. “Is something wrong?”
“I just have to talk to her. To apologize,” he added.
“Ach, if that’s the case, you’d best find her.” Her eyes were amused, probably thinking it was nothing worse than a lovers’ spat.
Ruthie reappeared in the lane, shaking her head.
“Was ist letz?” Jacob came around the house, unbuckling a tool belt. “What’s wrong?”
“Trey just wants to see Amanda, that’s all,” Sarah said. “But she must have gone someplace.”
“I think I’ll call the Winthrop place and see if she’s there.” Trey pulled out his cell phone, but after a brief few words with Mrs. Lindstrom, he clicked off, turning instinctively to Jacob. “Mrs. Lindstrom says she was there earlier but she left some time ago.”
Ruthie, who’d been watching them with her blue eyes wide, tugged at her mother’s apron. “I thought I heard Cousin Amanda’s car come in, but then it went back out again in just a little bit.”
“How long ago was this?” Trey asked. There was no reason for the alarm that touched him. No reason at all. That didn’t seem to help.
Ruthie shrugged with a child’s usual unconcern for time. “Not very long, I think.” She darted a glance at her mother. “I was reading.”
“If she was lost in a book, there’s no telling how long ago that was,” Sarah said, regarding her daughter fondly.
Frowning, Trey focused on Jacob as the one most likely to know. “Did Amanda say anything to you about leaving?”
“She was thinking on it,” Jacob said. His steady regard told Trey that he knew at least something of what had passed between him and Amanda. “But she promised she would not leave without saying goodbye to everyone.”
“Leaving?” Dismay showed on Sarah’s face. “Why would she do that?”
“My fault,” Trey said. “I don’t like this. I know we thought the danger ended with Davis’s death, but what if we were wrong?”
“Sarah, give us the key to the cottage.” Jacob was decisive. “We’ll see if there is anything to tell us where she went.”
A few minutes later, he and Jacob were striding up the path, having dissuaded Sarah from accompanying them.
“You’ve tried to call her?” Jacob asked.
“She’s not answering.” He shot Jacob a look. “You know that I let her down.”
“Just that she thinks so. Not what it was about.”
“She was right,” Trey said tersely. “I didn’t tell her something she had a right to know. When she found out from someone else—well, once it was too late, I knew I’d been wrong.”
Jacob didn’t say anything comforting, probably because there wasn’t anything to say. But he didn’t condemn Trey, either.
They reached the cottage. When Jacob unlocked the door, they hurried in. “Wherever she went, Barney is with her,” Jacob said.
Trey glanced around the neat room. Everything tidy, nothing out of place, except that a folded piece of paper lay on the floor where it might have fallen from the table.
He picked up it, unfolding it, and they read it at the same time.
Jacob stared at him. “But... I didn’t write this.”
“No.” Trey’s blood ran cold. “But Amanda probably never saw your writing. She’d have accepted it. And she’s walking into a trap.”
They raced out together, running down the hill to the car. Trey pulled out his cell phone as they jumped in. He hit Chief Carmichaels’s number as he heard Jacob giving a brief explanation to Sarah and Amos.
He turned the car, tearing down the lane. After a glance at his face, Jacob fastened his seat belt.
“Please God, we’ll be in time,” he murmured.
“We have to be.” Fear ripped at Trey’s heart. “We have to be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
FORTUNATELY, AMANDA remembered the route to the falls that Trey had taken. She’d taken note of where they’d turned off, thinking she might want to go back alone another day.
As she remembered, once she was on the gravel lane that led upward toward the ridge, it was fairly simple. Just drive until she reached the area where they had parked and follow the path through the woods.
She bounced along, satisfied that she was on the right track. Sure enough, the land widened out where they’d parked. She pulled off to the side and parked at the...well, one could hardly call it a parking lot. It was more like a wide space where the road dwindled out. Getting out, she stowed her bag in the trunk, dropping her cell phone in her pocket. Barney, recognizing the spot, was already nosing around.
How had Jacob gotten here? She supposed someone could have given him a ride, but it probably wasn’t too far to walk. It might be shorter cutting through the woods rather than coming along the road.
In any event, he’d probably be here already. Finding the path easily, she hurried through the woods, Barney at her heels. Jacob shouldn’t be alone to pay his last visit to the spot where his love had died. Amanda might not be as close to him as a daughter would normally be, but at least she could give him that—the gift of her presence at a difficult time.
Amanda could hear the sound of the falls now, and she walked faster, brushing past the wild berry brambles that overhung the path in places.
“Jacob!” She called his name as the path came to an end at the falls. But he wasn’t there.
“Jacob!” she shouted again. She hadn’t misunderstood his note, had she? She couldn’t have been that far behind him, and she hadn’t met him on the road.
Something that might have been a voice sounded. Not from the woods, but above her, at the top of the falls. Shielding her eyes from the slanting rays of the sun, she looked up. Something moved, a glimpse of color. Blue. Jacob often wore a blue shirt. He must have gone up to have a look at the place where he
and Melanie had their stolen meetings.
A voice called, muffled by the falls into something almost unrecognizable. Almost, but not quite. “Come up.”
Hadn’t Trey mentioned a road that came in at the upper part of the falls? But she was here now, and she had no idea where that other road might be. She eyed the trail that ran up along the falls. Not too difficult, she’d think, other than some slippery spots where the spray reached. Trey had mentioned that it was dangerous in early spring, when it could be icy, but not now.
If Trey could do it when he’d been a kid, she could certainly do it now. But she didn’t want Barney underfoot on the narrow trail. “Stay, boy.” She pointed at a spot at the bottom of the trail. “Stay.” He sat obediently, looking disappointed when she headed up the trail.
The first few yards were fairly simple, since the trail led upward in a series of what were almost rough steps, winding around larger rocks and stepping over smaller ones. The noise of the falls seemed to fill her head.
Actually, the rough trail proved not to be as bad as she’d expected, at least for about the first half of it. Mindful of where she put her feet, she was still fascinated by the power of the water plunging down the cliff face just a few feet away. If she’d been simply a hiker, with no painful connections to the place, she’d have been creating an unforgettable experience.
But she wasn’t in that position. And no matter what her reaction was to the place where her mother had died, Jacob’s had to be so much worse. He had actually held her body in his arms, grieving over his love.
Amanda’s foot slid on wet rock, and Barney gave a warning yelp from below. This was a particularly bad patch, nearly at the top, but running even closer to the rush of water. For an instant Esther’s tale of something behind you, its breath ever nearer, closed in on her.
She shook it away, determined not to look back even as her nape tingled.
Now that she was this high, the roar of the water seemed to have lessened. Or maybe she was getting used to it. In any event, Jacob should be able to hear her now.