by Debby Giusti
“What did you expect?” she asked.
“Overgrown pastures and peeling paint.”
She didn’t mention William’s care of the property. “As a real-estate agent, I thought you would have driven by the farm a number of times.”
His smirk included a hint of embarrassment. “I rarely go to the lake. William Lavy’s farm is the only other property out this way. I stopped at his house on the way here to see if he was interested in selling.”
“Why would you think he might be?”
“From what I’ve heard, William didn’t plan to remain within the Amish community. Sometimes an offer from a buyer is all that’s needed to sway a man’s heart.”
“You’ve heard this in town?” she asked, knowing full well that his receptionist, Gloria, was more than likely his source.
“The Country Kitchen is a gathering spot for many of the townspeople. I hear talk.”
He probably had heard lots of talk over the years of the murder-suicide that had rocked the small town and set tongues wagging. Julianne wondered if they were still gossiping about that terrible night.
“Did William agree to a meeting?” she asked, flicking her gaze once again to his farm. If only he would appear out of thin air, like he had last night.
“No one answered the door, and his buggy was gone. Evidently, he’s not at home.”
That made Julianne even more unsettled. Brad Abbott was glib and self-assured. Too self-assured.
Brad raised his brow. “You’re the last house along this lane, Julianne, with only the lake beyond. I understand your desire to sell the place after everything that happened. Must be hard to stay the night when you’re so isolated. Mountain Loft has had problems with prowlers recently. Be careful and on guard.”
His warning sounded somewhat like a threat. “Are you trying to scare me off my property?”
“I can assure you—” He held up his hands in apology. “No such thought entered my mind. I was offering advice to a person I hope will be one of my clients.”
He glanced at the stairway. “Shall we start the tour upstairs?”
She nodded and motioned for him to climb the stairs ahead of her. Brad had cautioned her to be on her guard, which was good advice. She would watch her back and keep her eye on him.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, she heard a buggy pull into the drive. She glanced outside and smiled with relief as William guided his mare toward the barn.
He had guarded her throughout the night, and now he was coming to check on her. Once again, his timing was perfect. Brad’s visit had her on edge, and his comments had made her even more concerned about her safety, especially when William wasn’t nearby.
“The rooms are quite spacious for an Amish home,” Brad said as he met her in the hallway. “There’s another bedroom downstairs?”
“That’s right.” She descended the stairs and pointed to what had been the family guest room. As he entered the room, she stepped into the kitchen and opened the back door.
William pointed to the real-estate agent’s car. “Looks like you’ve got company.”
“Brad wanted to see the house.”
“I’ll be out here if you need me.”
She smiled and returned to the main room just as Brad exited the downstairs bedroom and nodded with satisfaction.
“The house is well laid out, Julianne. The open-living concept appeals to folks from the city. The hardwoods will need to be sanded and stained, a new kitchen, indoor plumbing throughout, and heat and air, electricity.” He nodded again. “The cost of renovation will offset the selling price.”
“What about the land?” she asked.
“Sixty-five acres, right?”
“That’s correct.”
He rubbed his chin. “Non-Amish farmers would be looking for more land. Now if Lavy wanted to sell, that might draw a buyer. The logical choice is divide the land into smaller tracts for development.”
“You mean individual home sites?”
He nodded. “I’d like to see this area become a destination tourist spot. Winter sports in the colder months, outdoor recreation in the warmer weather. The lake would draw fishermen and boaters. Add a water park, and folks would flock here.”
She doubted the local townspeople would want an influx of tourists. “What about an Amish buyer? You mentioned advertising in The Budget.”
“That’s an option, although the Amish won’t give you top dollar.” He pulled a paper from the binder he was holding and handed it to her. “Here’s the selling price I worked up yesterday.”
She glanced at the number. “This seems low for sixty-five acres.”
“Raw land is a hard sale, Julianne. It could stay on the market for years.”
“This isn’t raw land,” she countered. “It’s a farm with a house and outbuildings. My father’s workshop, a barn—” Frustrated, she glanced again at the paper and sighed. “Let me think it over, Brad.”
“Sure. I’ll get back to you in a day or two. Or stop by the office in town. Gloria will have the papers ready to sign by tomorrow afternoon.”
He started for the door and then hesitated. “I’m sorry about your dad and brother. A murder-suicide is hard to understand.”
She gazed at him, her heart thumping. His comment had taken her by surprise.
“Some folks will reject a property because of the history.” He offered her a sympathetic smile. “Superstition runs strong in some folks. If they think a house has bad vibes—”
He continued to stare at her, and a chill slipped down her spine.
“Bad vibes?” she asked.
“You know—” He glanced at the rug she had laid over the bloodstain. “Stories abound. Folks die, then unfortunate things happen to new buyers.”
“What are you saying?”
“Bad things happen in threes. It’ll be hard enough to sell a home where two people have died. I’m just saying don’t let anything else happen, or it could knock the selling price down even more.”
She didn’t like his inference.
He opened the kitchen door. “I’ll see you in a day or two.”
Stepping onto the porch, the agent spied Will and chuckled. “Were your ears burning?”
“Not in the slightest. What’s on your mind, Brad?”
“I stopped by your house earlier. Combining your farm with Julianne’s will bring in a buyer for sure. I could work up some figures for you.”
“My farm’s not for sale.”
“If you change your mind...”
Will’s gaze narrowed. “I won’t.”
This time, the agent’s chuckle had a nervous ring. He glanced back at Julianne. “Thanks for showing me the house. As I mentioned, Gloria will have the papers ready when you come to town.”
Julie stared after him as he climbed into his SUV and drove off her property. She hadn’t appreciated his implied threats or his reference back to her father’s and brother’s deaths. Was he trying to scare her into signing on with his agency?
Brad Abbott hoped to make his fortune turning a quiet farm town into a mountain resort. She doubted the townspeople in Mountain Loft would buy into his grandiose ideas, and she didn’t want to help him achieve his goals. Yet she had to sell her farm.
She descended the porch steps and hurried to where Will stood. “You always appear when I need support.”
He smiled, and she noted a twinkle in his eye. “Just trying to help, ma’am.”
The tension that had taken hold of her when she’d been with Brad dissipated. “I saw your buggy in the drive last night,” she said. “You were guarding me, and I’m grateful.”
“I was worried the prowler would return.” He stepped closer. Fatigue lined his eyes.
“You didn’t sleep,” she said, stating the obvious. “Then you were gone most of the morning.”
“I had to meet someone,” he said.
In the distance, she heard horse’s hooves and the creak of a buggy on the lane. Turning toward the sound, she raised her hand over her eyes to block the glare of the sun.
“It seems I have another visitor.”
A woman waved, and Julianne’s stomach tightened. “Oh, William. What did you do?”
“I made a phone call yesterday, Julianne. You shouldn’t stay alone.”
“But why—?”
“To help you.”
Except he wasn’t helping her. He was making her face the last person she wanted to see. A person who reminded her of her father and the loss that ate at her heart. A person who didn’t understand her need to leave the Amish faith and strike out on her own.
The buggy turned into the drive and came to a stop.
“Don’t you understand, William? This will only make selling the farm harder for me.”
Gritting her teeth with resolve, she approached the woman in the buggy.
“What a surprise to see you again, Aunt Mary.”
* * *
William had thought Julianne would be happy to see her aunt, but the scowl on her face and her sharp retort told him she was less than joyous about the reunion. He watched with some trepidation as she wrapped her arms around her waist and approached the older woman’s buggy.
“It’s been a long time,” Julie said, staring up at her aunt.
Mary’s poignant expression told Will more than he’d previously realized. From what he could deduce, the two women’s parting hadn’t been on the best of terms.
“William called the phone shack yesterday,” Mary explained. “I got the message and called him back immediately. He said you’re staying here alone.”
Julianne hung her head and let out a heartfelt sigh of remorse. “I’m sorry, Aunt Mary, about the way I left you.”
“I knew you were ready to be on your own, although I did not expect you to leave your faith behind.”
“I—I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“You probably realized I would have talked you into staying with me longer and remaining within the church.”
“Still, I should have discussed my plans with you.”
“Your letters brought me comfort. Sometimes we write that which we would not speak. Finding our way is not always easy.”
The older woman got down from the buggy and stepped toward her niece. “I did not come here to convince you to change your life. I came to offer support and—” she opened her arms wide “—and love.”
Julie stood for a long moment. William saw a tear roll down her cheek.
Her aunt stepped closer. “You do not have to fear me, Julianne. I want only your happiness.”
With that final promise, Julie threw herself into her aunt’s embrace.
William remained silent, not wanting to disrupt the moment. When Mary Graber had called him back yesterday, he had not realized the history between the two women. The aunt’s initial hesitation over the phone had made him wonder what had transpired before Julianne had branched out on her own, although Mary had quickly agreed to stay with her niece. He had left early this morning, after ensuring Julianne was safe throughout the night, and guided Mary here along the mountain road.
Pulling out of her aunt’s embrace, Julianne wiped her eyes and smiled. “Let’s take your things inside. I cleaned the guest room this morning and only need to put sheets and a quilt on the bed.”
“I don’t mean to cause more work for you, dear. I’m here to help, not hinder.”
They grabbed the various totes in the back of the buggy. “Get the boxes, William, if you do not mind.” Mary pointed to two cardboard boxes. “I brought food with me—jams and canned foods, as well as some baked items.”
She glanced around the farm. “If I’m here long enough, I want to plant a garden.”
Julianne smiled. “I’m selling the house, and there’s a grocery in town where we can purchase food.”
“Of course, but fresh vegetables are so much better.”
William placed the boxes on the kitchen counter. “Mary, you’re welcome to anything in my garden when it starts to produce. Last year, I gave what I couldn’t eat to a few families in town that don’t grow their own food.”
“Thank you for the offer, William.”
Without being prompted, Mary scurried around the kitchen and unpacked the items she had brought.
“It looks like you’re planning to stay for a long time.” Julianne laughed as she helped arrange the canned goods on the shelves of the pantry.
As the women worked in the kitchen, William tended to the horses, and brought hay and feed from his own farm to the barn. Once Mary’s mare, Rosie, was cared for, he hurried home with a promise to join the women for the evening meal.
After completing his day’s work, William washed up and changed into a clean shirt. As he raised his hand to knock on Julianne’s door, he heard the women’s chatter coming from the kitchen and smiled. Two women alone would be no match for a hateful man bent on causing mayhem, but there was safety in numbers, and having Aunt Mary with her should bring Julianne comfort.
Aunt Mary seemed to have settled into her new surroundings as she and Julianne served the meal. William enjoyed the sliced ham, cold slaw and pickled beets Mary had brought from her house and appreciated being invited for dinner.
After the plates were cleared, Julianne poured coffee while Mary cut the pie. “I made this last night after talking to William,” she explained as she placed a large slice on the table in front of him.
“Homemade pie is something I have not had in quite some time. Danki.”
After dessert, the two women tidied the kitchen and William returned to the barn to check on Rosie. Julianne joined him there. The sun was setting, and there was a chill in the air.
“Thank you again for calling Aunt Mary. I felt guilty about leaving her, and the longer I stayed away, the harder it was to reconnect.” Julie shook her head. “I should have realized my sweet aunt would not hold on to anger.”
“She was eager to be with you, Jules. Remember you are her closest relative. You lost your datt, but she, too, grieved for her brother.”
“I—I was thinking of my own sorrow and should have been more considerate of her feelings. Perhaps down deep, I was afraid of her pull to keep me on her farm.”
“She’s sold most of her animals and only maintains a small garden. A neighbor boy is caring for her place while she is away, so do not worry. She wanted to be with you.”
“And the feeling is mutual.”
Julianne’s face glowed in the setting light, and his neck warmed. He needed to return home before he said something he might regret, like how pretty she looked and how much he enjoyed spending time with her.
“I’ll check the outbuildings before I leave. The woodshop is closed up. Remember to lock your doors. Keep your phone close at hand. I stopped at the sheriff’s office when I passed through town this morning. He and his men will patrol this area and the lake more frequently, but you still need to be careful.”
“I’m aware of the danger.” She stretched out her hand as if to shake his, but he grabbed hold of it and stepped closer.
Staring into her green eyes, he realized how concerned he was about her safety. “Be vigilant, Julie. I don’t want to scare you, but the culprit is still on the loose. Whether he’s a vagrant or someone else, you need to remain alert. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He squeezed her hand and then headed to his farm. At the road, he glanced back, but Julie was already inside. The door was closed, hopefully locked, and the curtains were drawn.
Keep her safe, Gott.
As he hurried to his farm, he felt more confused than ever and was still worried about her safety. Storms rolled in throughout the night. Between the pouring rai
n, the lightning and thunder, he slept fitfully and rose a number of times to stare from his window at her house in the distance. Each time he did, he prayed for her again.
SEVEN
Julianne tossed and turned most of the night due to the storms, and she finally gave up trying to get any rest. Needing caffeine, she rose before dawn to stoke the woodstove in the kitchen and brew coffee before Mary got up.
After slipping into her robe and slippers, she quietly passed the guest room, hurried downstairs and stopped at the table to strike a match and light the oil lamp.
A floorboard creaked behind her.
Her neck tingled with apprehension. Still holding the ignited match, she turned toward the sound and stared into the darkness.
A hand grabbed her shoulder. She gasped, dropped the match to the floor and thrashed her arms.
How had he gotten inside?
She jabbed her elbow into his ribs. He groaned. She clawed at his hands and stomped on his instep.
He wrapped his hands around her neck. She wedged her fingers under his to keep him from cutting off her air supply and kicked her foot back. She hit his shin and kicked him again. He slapped her exactly where she had been hurt the first night.
Pain shot through her. He threw her to the floor and ran from the house.
She moaned as she crawled to her feet and stumbled to the door that was open. Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest, and her breath came in short gasps as she stared into the darkness, seeing no one.
With trembling hands, she started to close the door.
“Are you all right?” It was William’s voice. He was racing along the drive. “I saw a man run into the woods behind your house.”
“Oh, Will. I... I’m scared.”
He hurried up the stairs, crossed the porch and wrapped her in his arms. “Let’s get you inside in case he’s still in the area.”
She felt secure in his embrace, and together they dashed into the kitchen. The moment William released his hold on her, her fear returned, and her pulse raced from the shock of what had happened.