by Marta Perry
Lainey wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep the chill at bay. “You thought she was talking about me.”
Meredith nodded, eyes troubled. “Everyone was strange that day. It was as if our world had been turned upside down by what happened to Aaron. Maybe that’s why I remember it so clearly. But what did she mean?”
Lainey tried to find another explanation. She couldn’t. “I used to sleepwalk when I was little. Jake thinks I might have been out of the house that night. That I might have seen something.”
Surprisingly, Meredith didn’t seem as shocked by that as Lainey expected. “I remember the sleepwalking. You did it once when I was staying over. But why would Jake assume you were out that night?”
“Because of the dreams.” Lainey said the words reluctantly. She didn’t have any desire to look like some sort of nutcase in front of Meredith, but after what happened tonight, maybe it was past time to protect her image. “I’ve had recurring dreams about being near the water, about someone chasing me. About trying to get to the house where I’d be safe.”
Meredith considered. “Dreams, not memories?”
She nodded. “That’s what I keep telling Jake. If my conscious mind doesn’t remember, my dreams don’t mean anything.”
“I don’t know enough about sleepwalking to make a judgment,” Meredith said. “Just all the old wives’ tales about how dangerous it is to wake a person if they’re sleepwalking. But I guess that’s not the point, is it? If Jake’s right, and Victor really didn’t kill Aaron, then someone else did. And if that person thinks you saw something—”
She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. Lainey already knew the rest of it. If that someone was trying to silence her, then an innocent boy might have been struck down because he got in the way.
* * *
LAINEY REACHED THE hospital early the next day, hoping to find out how Thomas was before going to see her aunt. Parking in the lot between the two buildings, she headed for the hospital entrance. The day, in sharp contrast to yesterday, was bright and sunny, with only a crisp nip in the air to remind one it was November.
The brisk air seemed to blow away the fog that had been clinging to her brain since she got up this morning. The nightmares had been worse last night, maybe because she’d been talking about the subject so much. She felt as if she’d spent the entire night running.
The sound of water in her ears, the by-now-familiar sense of being chased, terrified, trying to reach the lights of the house. Falling.
And something added that had never been there before—the sense that if only she’d looked up in that moment, she would have seen the face of her pursuer.
Shivering, Lainey shrugged it off and went to the desk to inquire as to Thomas’s room. The hospital volunteer was unfamiliar today, and she consulted her computer and relayed the number with a smile but no sense of recognition.
Just as well. Lainey really wasn’t up to any idle chat at this hour, not after the night she’d had. She rode up in the elevator and followed the room number signs, only to be stopped by a nurse just as she reached her destination.
“I’m sorry.” The middle-aged woman was pleasant but firm. “No visitors yet for the patient. You can try again this afternoon, if you like.”
Lainey glanced beyond her at the door, frustrated. “Can you at least tell me how Thomas is doing?”
The woman eyed her. “Are you a relative?” Doubt filled her voice.
“I am, as a matter of fact. Thomas is my cousin. I’m on my way to see our great-aunt in the rehab unit, and I wanted to be able to give her some news about his condition.”
The nurse’s expression softened. “Rebecca Stoltzfus, you mean. I hope she’s doing well?”
Lainey decided she should stop being surprised that everyone in town knew Aunt Rebecca. “She’s gaining strength and speaking more every day.”
“Well, you tell her Rosie Sitler asked about her.” The woman glanced at the door and then back at Lainey. “I really can’t let you in,” she said, lowering her voice. “But you can tell Rebecca it’s just a concussion, the doctor feels sure. The boy should be up and about in no time.”
Relief swept through Lainey. “Thanks so much. I’ll tell her.”
Her step felt lighter as she headed down the hallway toward the elevator. At least Thomas was recovering. She wouldn’t have to carry the burden of having caused serious damage to yet another person.
The elevator doors swished open as she approached, and Zeb Stoltzfus stepped out, stopping short at the sight of her.
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t bother lowering his voice.
“I came to see how Thomas is doing. I’m so sorry—”
“Sorry! You should be sorry. Hurting a poor boy who never did anything to you.” His leathery face reddened.
Now was not the moment to bring up the tricks Thomas had played.
“I didn’t hurt him.” Surely he couldn’t believe that she had attacked his grandson.
Zeb muttered something in dialect that she was just as glad she couldn’t understand. “You are to blame.”
“That’s not true.” Wasn’t it? If it hadn’t been for her, Thomas wouldn’t have been there. “I found him. I called for help for him.” She couldn’t bring herself to share that image of the dark figure over the boy, weapon upraised.
Zeb thrust his face toward hers, eyes blazing. “Stay away from that boy.” He brushed past her and strode quickly down the hall.
The elevator was still waiting. Lainey escaped into it and pressed the button, hand shaking. Her heart seemed to be dropping along with the elevator.
No matter how wrong Zeb was about what had happened, he was right about one thing. Even though she hadn’t wielded the weapon, Thomas’s injury was her responsibility.
Lainey sucked in a breath. All right. She couldn’t go back and undo what had been done. But Jake was right about one thing. Only the truth would resolve this situation once and for all. And based on what Meredith had told her, Aunt Rebecca must have a piece of the truth that she’d never revealed.
Lainey crossed the parking lot so quickly that she arrived at the rehab unit out of breath. She paused in the entrance to catch her breath and organize her thoughts.
She had to be gentle with Aunt Rebecca. She couldn’t set back her recovery by upsetting her. But somehow, her great-aunt had to be persuaded to tell what she knew about Lainey’s actions the night Aaron died.
Fortunately, she arrived at her aunt’s room well ahead of the first physical therapy of the day. When she opened the door, Aunt Rebecca was seated in a chair by the window, fully dressed, her gray hair neatly pulled back under a snowy prayer kapp. She turned at the sound of the door and smiled.
“Lainey.” The name came out even easier than it had the previous day. A shadow came over her expression. “Thomas?” she asked.
Lainey went to her quickly and pulled a chair up next to her aunt’s. “He’s doing well. I stopped at the hospital to ask. The nurse...” What was the woman’s name? “Rosie Sitler, I think?”
Aunt Rebecca nodded.
“She said to tell you that Thomas has a concussion, but he’s recovering and will be up and around soon. So you’re not to worry about him.” Lainey patted her aunt’s hands, deciding there was nothing to be gained by mentioning her encounter with Zeb.
“Thank th-the gut Lord.” Her forehead wrinkled. “You? All right?”
“I wasn’t hurt,” she said quickly. “I saw the person, but not to identify.”
Aunt Rebecca shook her head, murmuring something in Pennsylvania Dutch. “Evil,” she said distinctly.
“Yes.” Lainey seized on the word. “It is evil, and it must be stopped.” She paused, trying to find a way to soften what she had to say. “Aunt Rebecca, I have to know. The night Aaron died—was I out of the house?”
Rebecca’s faded eyes filled with tears. “Ja,” she murmured. “How?”
“How do I know?”
Rebecca nodded.
Lainey held her hands firmly. “I’ve had nightmares for years about running away from someone or something at the dam. About trying to get to the house and someone chasing me.”
Rebecca’s fingers writhed in her grasp. “Ach, I...I never thought...”
“You didn’t think I’d remember? Or you didn’t think I’d seen anything?”
Her great-aunt’s eyes closed for an instant. “D-didn’t know. Bed empty. Went t-to look.” She stopped, seeming exhausted by the effort.
“You found my bed empty that night, so you looked for me. Did you go outside?”
“Ja. On the g-grass. Asleep. Took you in.”
Lainey could almost see it. Aunt Rebecca searching frantically, not sure where she’d gone, and finding her lying on the lawn. “You took me in and put me to bed. Did I wake up?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Crying in your sleep. I...I sat with you.”
Of course she would have. The simple act would never have occurred to Lainey’s mother, but would be second nature to Aunt Rebecca.
Rebecca’s fingers tightened on hers. “You didn’t remember. W-we didn’t ask. Maybe, in a day or two—”
“But Mom came and took me away.”
“Ja.” Tears slid down her great-aunt’s cheeks. “Should have st-stopped—”
“I know.” Lainey was having trouble holding the tears back herself. “I know you wanted to keep me. But you couldn’t.”
“Ja.” Her aunt managed a crooked smile through the tears. She patted Lainey’s hand. “My girl,” she said clearly.
A tear dropped on their entwined hands, and Lainey wasn’t sure whether it was hers or Rebecca’s. She had belonged here, but fate in the shape of her mother had intervened. Still, maybe she’d always known it.
Aunt Rebecca’s lips moved, as if she tried to say something more.
“It’s all right,” Lainey said quickly. “Don’t tire yourself.”
Rebecca shook her head in frustration. “Tell you. L-look in the chest.” She leaned back, her eyes flickering.
“The chest,” she repeated, her mind a blank. “You mean the chest where the fabric is stored?”
“Ja. Look. Left something for you.”
“All right. I’ll check it.” She couldn’t imagine what Aunt Rebecca meant, but the assurance seemed to satisfy her.
The door swung open just then to admit Katie, and Lainey rose to greet her with slight apprehension. What if others, besides Zeb, blamed her for what had happened to Thomas?
But Katie seemed just as usual. She gave Lainey a quick hug, pressing her cheek against Lainey’s. “Does she know about Thomas?” she whispered.
Lainey nodded. “She already knew when I came in.” She managed a smile. “I was just telling Aunt Rebecca that Thomas’s nurse says he’s going to be fine.”
“Ach, that’s gut news for sure.” Katie bent to embrace Aunt Rebecca. “Don’t you worry about him. Boys that age bounce back fast.” She glanced at Lainey and then away. “No harm done.”
Lainey’s heart sank. Did that mean Katie thought she’d caused Thomas’s injuries? She didn’t dare ask in front of her great-aunt, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer in any event.
Coward, her conscience murmured in her ear, but she ignored it. For a little while, at least, she wanted to enjoy the sense that she’d come home, without any doubts edging in to destroy it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A RELATIVELY PEACEFUL day spent at the rehab center, concentrating on Rebecca’s exercises and working on her quilt with Katie had done wonders for Lainey’s morale by that evening. Maybe it had been the effect of the assurance she’d felt from Aunt Rebecca.
Pouring herself a second cup of tea after supper, she sat down at the familiar kitchen table. Meredith had offered to stay again tonight, but she’d declined. She couldn’t let fear overpower the contentment she felt in this place.
If her mother hadn’t shown up that day to snatch Lainey back into her own chaotic world, what would her life have been? Staying here, probably going to school with Meredith, having her friends at hand for all her growing up years and coming home every day to the assurance of being loved—that would have been her life. If so, maybe she’d have grown into someone who had enough confidence in herself and others to risk seizing her own happy ever after.
Was it too late for that? Could she and Jake actually let themselves love each other? Maybe, once all this trouble was cleared up, they’d be able to find out.
Lainey frowned down at the tea. There was still plenty to be concerned about, and she shouldn’t forget that. For one thing, Thomas apparently didn’t remember anything about why he’d been at the house or who had hit him. According to Cousin Katie, everything after he’d helped with the milking was a blur. The doctor said he might remember, in time, or he might not.
If he didn’t, Lainey had no doubts that Zeb would continue to blame her. That would make her position here difficult, but she could handle his opposition, couldn’t she? As long as the people she cared about accepted her account, she was all right.
People she cared about, like Aunt Rebecca, like Jake. And that led her to another issue. She hadn’t yet told Jake that Aunt Rebecca had confirmed his belief that Lainey had been out of the house on the night Aaron died.
It wasn’t that she was deliberately hiding her aunt’s story from him, she assured herself. She’d tell him, just not right away. Knowing Jake, the first thing he’d want to do would be to hear the story directly from Aunt Rebecca. He’d have questions, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had answers.
Would he understand why Aunt Rebecca had kept quiet about finding Lainey outside that night? She did, but would he?
Lainey had been gone, and everyone had accepted the apparent fact that Aaron’s death was an accident. No one in Deer Run so much as imagined anything else.
Aunt Rebecca’s concern would always have been for Lainey. She’d have accepted the fact that Lainey hadn’t remembered her sleepwalking. She’d have told herself it was God’s will, and gone on with her life.
Jake might be pleased to have his theory about Lainey’s nightmares confirmed, but Rebecca’s knowledge didn’t change anything. Dreams weren’t evidence.
She had carried the mug to the sink before she realized how the darkness outside was pressing against the glass already. She hadn’t noticed how late it was getting. She should have locked up before now. With no shade on the kitchen windows, she would be clearly visible from the dark outside.
Washing the dishes could easily wait until morning. She double-checked the lock on the back door and went quickly through into the dining room, where her quilting materials were still laid out on the table, pulling down the shades on the side windows, then continuing into the living room to draw the shades there.
Once that was accomplished and she’d checked the lock on the front door, Lainey wandered back into the dining room to have another look at her project. It seemed to be habit-forming—she couldn’t look at it without wanting to start working again. Some people got lost in a book, but she got lost in creating something with her hands.
She’d finished another square today in the intervals between therapy sessions. Katie had kept an unobtrusive eye on Lainey’s needlecraft while working on her own quilt, and she’d seemed satisfied that Lainey knew what she was doing. She’d even mentioned that once the top was finished, she’d help Lainey spread it onto Aunt Rebecca’s quilting frame and they’d have a regular quilting frolic to do the quilting.
Aunt Rebecca had smiled, obviously pleased at the idea. And Lainey, who had thought perhaps she’d be here long enough to make the patches into a place mat or table runner, found herself agreeing that a double bed quilt would be perfect.
Lainey smoothed the patch out on the table surface. Would she really be here long enough for that? Why not? There was nothing that demanded her attention anywhere else, and despite all the alarms and concerns, she was happy here.
Picking up the piec
es for another patch, she began to arrange them. Working on it would keep her mind off the darkness outside the windows. The cat, already established in the chair he preferred, seemed ready for a quiet night as well.
No sooner had she picked up the materials than Lainey realized she’d forgotten about Aunt Rebecca’s words. Rebecca had wanted Lainey to look in the fabric chest for something she’d left there for her.
Maybe the nine-patch doll quilt? Rachel and Meredith seemed convinced Rebecca would have saved it. If so, Lainey would love to have it.
She headed upstairs, not surprised when Cat deserted his chair and bounded up ahead of her. The cat had become so much a part of her life that she didn’t know what she’d do if someone turned up and tried to claim him.
She had to smile at herself. What would any of the people she’d known over the years have said at the thought of Lainey settling down in a small town, complete with a pet? They were used to hearing from her in a different place every year.
She’d looked in the chest before, of course, when she took out the material for her quilt, but she hadn’t taken everything out. Moving the battery light to a better spot so that she could see what she was doing, she opened the chest.
Aunt Rebecca had called it a dower chest, Lainey remembered. The word swam up from some long-forgotten conversation. She’d asked what a dower chest was, and Aunt Rebecca had explained that it was a sort of trunk or chest in which a girl could collect the linens she’d need when she had a home of her own. Every young Amish girl had one, in anticipation of the day she’d marry.
Lainey ran her fingers along the smooth edge of the top with its carefully crafted molding. Someone had made this chest by hand, she realized. Uncle Isaac? Or maybe even Aunt Rebecca’s father, before she was married? It might easily be that old.
The top layer of fabric was familiar to her, and she lifted out piece after piece, stacking them on the floor beside her. Farther down, she came to some quilted table runners, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. Gifts, maybe, that Rebecca hadn’t yet used?
Beneath that she caught a glimpse of familiar colors that stirred a faint, nostalgic memory. She drew it out with fingers that trembled a little. It was the nine-patch doll quilt, made with the fabric pieces she’d picked out that long-ago day when Aunt Rebecca had taken her fabric shopping.