A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel

by Rosalind Lauer

  “Arguing with Dat?” Adam shook his head, unable to imagine his father arguing with an Englisher. “Over what?”

  “Something about wildlife. Bird hunting? We checked it out, but at the time it didn’t seem to amount to much. The altercation occurred weeks before the murders.”

  “But that’s not the first time Chris has mouthed off to someone.” Nancy shifted, burying her hands in the pockets of her fleece vest. “He has a problem with booze. That doesn’t make him a killer, but it’s made him surly from time to time. I know Gina has had her issues with him.”

  “I’ve always found Chris to be respectful,” Hank said, “but I have had to ask him to leave the bar of the Mockingbird Inn a few times.”

  “And do you remember that phase he went through when he kept taking on new get-rich-quick schemes?” Nancy asked Hank. “Nothing panned out for him, but he had big plans. He was going to sell Amish things on eBay. And then there was something about starting a pheasant-hunting preserve.” She shook her head. “I can barely believe it. To think that boy might have killed my good friends.…”

  “I know what you mean.” Adam tried to picture Chris as a kid, but could only remember Chris’s mother keeping him home, afraid of the giant horses on the surrounding farms.

  “It may be hard to believe about Chris, but someone killed Esther and Levi,” Hank said. “And it’s my job to put that person behind bars.”

  Hank was called out of the room. When he returned, he went to the rack for his hat. “I’m going to have to cut out for a while. You’re welcome to stay, come back later, whatever suits.”

  Nancy rose and grabbed her satchel. “Anything we can do to help?”

  “Just keep a lid on this for now. Our check on Chris Mueller came back with half a dozen arrests in Pittsburgh, where he went to college. Mostly barroom brawls, drunk and disorderly. But based on that and the information you gave us, Judge Fleming called in a search warrant.”

  Hank put on his hat and grabbed his coat. “Good thing the wife let me take the Snow Monster today. I’m taking a ride out to the Mueller place.”

  FORTY-TWO

  arming her hands around a mug of tea, Remy settled back onto the yellow gingham love seat in Nancy Briggs’s sunroom and tried to relax.

  After the sheriff had left the station, Nancy had pointed out that the police station was no place to pass the time and offered her home as a place to wait. As they didn’t want to bring Simon back to the farmers market with Chris Mueller there, Adam had suggested they all share a pizza for lunch.

  “Great idea,” Nancy had said. “I’m famished!”

  Just three blocks from the police station and city hall, Nancy’s house was a modest Colonial tucked behind a white picket fence. Melting snow dripped onto the edges of the wide wood porch as Nancy led the way through the front door.

  “Shoes off here. You can hang your hats and coats on the hooks there. We’ll eat in the red room,” Nancy had instructed.

  The red dining room overlooked a snow-covered birdbath that resembled a big white sugarplum. Simon set out place mats and napkins while Remy poured glasses of water and milk for Simon.

  “Your kitchen is amazing. It’s awfully big for one person,” she told Nancy as she navigated the large room with two granite islands, a double-wide refrigerator, and an industrial-size range.

  “That’s because it’s my factory and test kitchen, too.” Nancy slapped a hand on the smooth granite counter. “This is where the muesli bars are made.”

  Simon had been thrilled to have “a real pizza, hot in a box,” as he said, and Remy had agreed that a bubbling hot pizza really hit the spot on a cold winter day.

  Now, with lunch finished, Nancy was showing Simon her “trade secrets” as he watched her mix a batch of lemon poppy bars in the kitchen. Adam had grinned at the sight of his brother and Nancy wearing paper caps over their hair, but he seemed just as relieved as Remy to have some time alone in the sunroom.

  So much had happened this morning; Remy’s head was still spinning.

  “I’m trying not to count my chickens before they hatch,” she told Adam, who sat beside her on the love seat.

  “Speaking in proverbs now?” He shot her a grin. “You’re really getting into the Plain way of life.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve enjoyed it.” She had loved every minute, each and every day, from waking to the family milking under a purple sky to playing games by the fire to nestling under a quilt at night, tired to the bone. So wonderful … but right now so many things were drawing to a close, and the idea that she’d had a hand in solving the murders of Levi and Esther King was sheer exhilaration.

  “I can’t stop thinking about Chris Mueller, and what it might mean for Simon if Chris is convicted. It will help Simon to know the killer isn’t lurking. I think it will bring Simon closure.”

  Remy leaned forward to place her mug beside the magazines fanned out on the coffee table, then added: “If Chris is found guilty. That’s my problem, pushing ahead to the next thing. The sheriff isn’t even back from searching the Muellers’ house, and in my mind I’m lunging ahead.”

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Adam picked up a magazine from the table, one that showed a Northwest timber cottage on the edge of a blue lake. “You do push a lot.”

  “I like to think I have a healthy curiosity.”

  “And you like to get your way.”

  Remy turned to him, hands on her hips. “Are you saying I’m a spoiled brat?” She knew it was probably true, but she liked drawing Adam into the verbal fray.

  “I never said that, though it may be true.”

  She leaned toward him until his smooth jaw was just inches from her face. His eyes held that brown shadow, which she’d come to recognize as a mixture of intrigue and attraction.

  Those smoky eyes … she could stare into them forever.

  “There are a lot of things you don’t say, Adam. You’re a little stingy with words at times—maybe that’s a cultural thing. But I think I’ve gotten pretty good at reading your body language.”

  “Ya?” He tossed the magazine away and folded his arms across his chest. “What am I thinking now?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, she tugged on the white string of her prayer kapp. “You’re thinking of how much you enjoy teasing me.”

  “You got me.” He let his hands drop to his lap. “You’re good.”

  “Denki.”

  “So …” He took a breath and closed his hand over hers.

  A tiny gasp escaped her throat at the electrifying contact.

  “What am I thinking now?” he asked.

  “I would read your mind if …” She closed her eyes.

  If my pulse would stop racing.

  If I weren’t so blinded by emotion whenever you touch me.

  She opened her eyes and, squeezing his hand, pressed her cheek to his shoulder. How wonderful it felt to lean on Adam, to feel his warmth and solid support.

  “Remy …” That gentle voice, the low baritone she’d often heard soothing Simon late at night, rumbled in her ear. “You know the roads are clearing.”

  “Yes.” Without lifting her head, she slid closer so that her face was pressed to his chest. Her nose pressed into the fabric of his shirt, picking up his familiar smells of soap and wood smoke, pleasant odors. Adam’s scent. His arm came around her, holding her in place, safe and secure.

  “And that means we’re getting to that awkward moment where I’m supposed to let you go.…”

  “I know.” She bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to leave. This felt like her home now, here with Adam and his family in Halfway.

  “But there’s a problem. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you,” he whispered.

  I fell in love with you.…

  Whispered or shouted, the words couldn’t have been more thrilling if he had written them in the sky with stars.

  She lifted her head so that she could meet his eyes. The vulnerability she saw there made her
reach for both his hands.

  “And now I can’t let you go,” he said. “Since you arrived, you’ve lit up our home with laughter and joy. All these days … I noticed how much you adore my family, how you shine in the glow of their love.”

  So he had noticed.

  All those times when she had thought he was preoccupied, when he seemed to be mulling over plans or talking business with Jonah, Adam had been in tune with Remy. He’d been watching her, really seeing the woman she’d become.

  “I don’t want to put too much pressure on you, Remy, but I want to be with you always, and it’s not such a simple matter, with you being Englisher.” Her heart pounded in her chest as she anticipated the question that smoldered in his dark eyes. “Are you serious about talking to the bishop about becoming a baptized member?”

  Unable to speak over the knot of emotion in her throat, she nodded.

  His chest swelled with a huge breath of relief. “I had hoped … crazy hope … but now, maybe not so crazy.”

  “Not crazy at all,” she said, blinking back tears.

  “Are you willing to make that promise? Would you give up the city, give up a life of ease and—”

  “In a heartbeat. I know I have a lot to learn. I know your family well, but I still need to meet the other families in your congregation. I realize it’s a huge commitment, but my heart is in it, Adam. I feel like I’ve found a home here.”

  He smiled. “Then I hope you’ll think about being my wife. I want you beside me, always. I can’t imagine life without you.” He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles.

  The sweet gesture unraveled her composure. Remy sniffed, overcome with emotion.

  He loved her, and she had fallen in love with him, fallen so hard that she could barely remember life before Adam.

  In fact, her entire life before Lancaster County now seemed a dull, gray blur, like a decaying movie filmed in black and white. The past was a bleak contrast to the brilliant hues of her life here, as colorful as the green, purple, or blue gowns worn by Amish women here.

  “You’re crying.” He frowned. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  She sniffed. “Tears of joy.”

  “Joy, as in … yes?”

  “Yes, a thousand times yes. I love you, Adam, and I want to be by your side, always and forever.”

  He folded her into his arms, and Remy closed her eyes and gave herself up to his kiss. How she loved him.

  On the small of her back his hands pulled her closer, as if beckoning her to his world. Willingly, she leaned against him, feeling the soft contours of her body meet his very male muscle and bone. Despite their differences, Amish and English, she knew they were meant to be together.

  For Remy, it would be the promise of a lifetime, vowing to live Amish and be Adam’s wife forever. An ominous step, but not scary at all. Locked in Adam’s arms, Remy knew it was the right choice for her.

  A lifetime of loving Adam would not be enough … but it was a start.

  A wonderful start.

  The ringing phone interrupted their kisses. Adam’s arms released her, and Remy slid away reluctantly, fingertips pressed to her lips, as if to hold on to the passion.

  “I’m glad we don’t have telephones to interrupt in Amish homes,” Adam said, a smile playing at his mouth.

  Remy sighed, squeezing his hand. “No. You have ten siblings instead.”

  He laughed. “Plenty of interruptions there.” Taking her hand, he rose and gave her a tug. “Kumm. Let’s tell Simon.”

  Inside the kitchen, Nancy was pacing, a cordless phone pressed to her ear. Simon sat on a bar stool, pressing glistening moist granola mix into a shallow pan.

  “We’re done with the mixing,” he reported. “Now it must sit and harden.”

  “Good job.” Adam touched his brother’s shoulder as he began to talk about how much their family loved Remy.

  Wonder played on Simon’s face as Adam outlined their plans. “You will marry … and Remy will live with us always?”

  Adam nodded. “After she’s baptized, in the fall. What do you think of that?”

  A grin ruffled his lips. “I think it will be a very good fall.”

  “Okay, Hank.” Nancy’s voice was clear as she turned back toward them. “I’ll let Adam know. Thank you much.”

  “I finished!” Simon pointed the spatula at the tray.

  “Good work, Simon,” Nancy said as she ended the connection. “How about you take that pan down those stairs there. You’ll see a big silver door down there. Pull it open and you can tuck that away on an empty shelf.”

  Simon hopped down from the stool and walked off with the tray.

  “That was Hank,” Nancy reported. “Says he just got back from the Mueller place, and knew you were waiting here to get word.”

  “What did he find?” Remy asked eagerly.

  Nancy pulled off her paper hat and carried the big mixing bowl to the sink. “Hank searched the house and he thinks he may have found the evidence that makes the case.” She paused to run some water in the bowl, as if to be sure she had their attention. “Under the bed there was a steel box with a handgun—a thirty-two-caliber automatic, like the weapon that killed Levi and Esther.”

  “Wow. It really was him.” Adam let out a sigh. “Thank the Lord Gott. I really didn’t think we’d ever see this day.”

  Remy sank down onto a stool, feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted. Of course, there would be further investigation and charges. The wheels of justice might turn slowly with a trial and sentencing, but in her heart she now knew Chris Mueller was the killer, and it felt so good to know he would be out of circulation soon.

  Out of Halfway.

  Far from the King family.

  “Hank is running all the evidence into the state forensics lab to match ballistics and whatnot. He’s got the county prosecutor in the loop, and they’re ready to go.”

  “Hank thinks Mueller is the man?” Adam asked.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s at the farmers market, picking up Chris for questioning right now. We may not have enough to hold Chris in custody at this point, but my guess is, when confronted by the sheriff, Mueller will break down. I wouldn’t be surprised if he confessed to killing Esther and Levi before the day is over.”

  Raking a hand through his hair, Adam let out a deep breath. “Then it’s almost over. They’ll get this man off the streets.”

  Nancy nodded. “Yup. And as your friend and mayor, I am much relieved to put this one to bed. Maybe now your family can start healing. Maybe we all can.”

  Gripping the granite counter, Adam took a deep breath. “Thank you, Nancy. Thanks for pushing this forward.”

  Nancy waved him off. “Oh, Remy here was the one who connected the dots.” She winked at Remy. “This one has good investigative skills. It’s no wonder your boss sent you here on assignment. Which reminds me—mind like a sieve—what newspaper did you say you work for?”

  Remy’s jaw dropped as the energy in the kitchen drained.

  Did Nancy really say those words … those poisonous words. She felt Adam go stiff beside her, felt the bitter fallout coming.

  “What did you say?” His voice indicated they were lingering on a dangerous edge.

  “I wanted to know what newspaper Remy writes for.”

  He wheeled on her, his dark eyes piercing. “You’re a writer.” A statement … he had already worked beyond disbelief.

  “I can explain about that—”

  “A newspaper reporter.” His voice held the grit of disdain. “There is no excuse in the world that could cover a lie like that.”

  Nancy winced. “It looks like I just stepped in it.” She backed away from the granite counter. “Let me go check on Simon. I’ll leave you two to sort this out. Did you hear me? Fix this. After what you two accomplished today, you can certainly work this out.” She went to the cellar door and paused behind Adam to mouth: “Sorry.”

  Remy shrugged. It wasn’t Nancy’s fault.
This was a mess of her own design.

  “Listen, Adam …” When she turned to him he was stone cold, a stranger critiquing her flaws. “It’s not the way it sounds.”

  “You’re not a reporter?”

  “Technically, I am … I was, but—”

  “Who do you work for?”

  “The Post. My father owns the paper, but I’m not writing a story anymore.”

  He folded his arms defensively. “I’ve been a fool. Everyone warned me to stay away from the Englisher, but I didn’t listen.”

  “Adam, don’t freak out about it. I’m not writing the story, okay? Besides, I’d never write anything hurtful about you or anyone in the family. I love your family. You know that.”

  “Ya? Then tell me, Remy, why did you drive out here in the first place? What was that … that business proposition you kept choking on? You were writing a story from the beginning, but you were afraid to tell me.”

  “I …” At a loss, she pressed a hand to her chest, then tugged on one string of her prayer kapp. “Okay, at first I came out here for a story. Way back in the beginning I was hoping to do a story on the unsolved murders, a follow-up on how your family is doing now. But I wasn’t going to publish anything without your permission. And as I got to know you and your family, everything changed. I fell in love with you.”

  “That’s right … you fell in love with the Amish.” The edge in his voice frightened her. “So much that you wanted to join us.”

  “But that part was genuine,” she insisted. “It is genuine. I fell in love with you, Adam. With you and your family and with God. My old life, a very privileged life, just doesn’t hold any appeal for me anymore.”

  She couldn’t go back to Philadelphia now. She knew she belonged here, and Adam knew it, too.

  He had just proposed to her. They were going to be married in the fall.… Surely he wouldn’t toss that all away over a misunderstanding like this.

  “I can’t trust you, Remy. I thought I could, but …” He stood there, his face crossed with pain.