Home by dark, p.20
Home by Dark, page 20
“No. But it scared you plenty, didn’t it? Maybe that was what he or she wanted.”
“Why?” she said again, wanting desperately to push the entire subject away.
“Why any of it? Why did someone shoot at the boys? Why did someone hide in your shed? Why did Will and Joseph run away? Why?”
“I don’t know, but no one would deliberately try to lure Mandy away—”
The idea was too monstrous. Halfway up the steps she swung around to tell him so, grasping the railing for balance.
The railing gave under her hand, shrieking in protest. Off balance, she swung with it, losing her grip, falling—
Hands grasped her, arms closed around her, and Colin drew her roughly against him, his heart thundering in her ear as she pressed her head against his chest. His grip tightened, and he held her as if he’d never let her go.
And she didn’t want him to. She wanted to stay safe inside his embrace, feeling his arms holding her close—
“Mommy! Are you okay?” Mandy ran across the porch.
Colin released her, his hand steadying her until he was sure she had her balance.
“I’m fine. Don’t come on the steps until we see what’s wrong,” she added.
“That’s right.” Hand on Rachel’s elbow, Colin guided her carefully up the steps, across the porch and into the front hall.
Over their heads, Princess burst into a volley of barking, obviously hearing them.
“Princess!” Mandy exclaimed, and darted toward the stairs.
“Go with her,” Colin urged. “I’m going to have a look at that railing.”
Now it was her turn to clasp his hand. “I don’t understand. That railing was shaky, but I fixed it. It should have been fine.”
“I know.” Colin’s face was grim. He gave her a little push. “Go on. See to Mandy.”
* * *
A FEW MINUTES later Colin squatted next to the porch steps, having detoured through the kitchen to pick up the flashlight he’d seen Rachel kept there. He’d noticed the shaky railing the first time he’d come to the house.
But Rachel said she’d fixed it, and on recent visits he hadn’t noticed anything wrong.
Frowning, he shone the light on the upright that had given way. He could see the brightness of the nails Rachel had used to reinforce the two-by-two. He grasped the skirting board, half-expecting to find it rotted through, but it was solid under his hand.
He didn’t like this, not one bit. There was no reason he could see for the railing to have failed like that. He sat back on his heels, frowning, muted carousel music an incongruous accompaniment to his thoughts.
Using the tips of his fingers, Colin explored the place where the new nails had pulled free of the board beneath. Did he, or didn’t he, feel the slight gouge that a pry bar might have made? He couldn’t be positive, and the flashlight beam wasn’t strong enough to be sure, but he’d be coming back in daylight to see what that board might tell him.
Moving the broken railing to one side, he mounted the steps, testing each one with his weight, and then checked the railing on the other side. It looked solid, but he wasn’t going to risk any more accidents.
Once he’d satisfied himself that it hadn’t been tampered with, Colin went into the house. Rachel hadn’t exactly invited him to hang around, but he had to be sure she was taking this evening’s events seriously.
He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. What on earth had Benj and those boys stumbled onto to make someone so nervous? Or wasn’t this string of actions against Rachel related to that at all? Maybe someone else wanted Rachel Mason out of Deer Run. Or wanted to put an end to a new bed-and-breakfast in town.
Rachel came down the steps just then and he looked up, studying the evidence of strain in her face. “You and Meredith,” he said abruptly. “What were you doing to attract Laura Hammond’s hysteria tonight?”
Her blue eyes expressed nothing more than confusion as she came the rest of the way down the stairs, her hand resting lightly on the railing as if she feared it, too, might give way.
“Nothing,” she said. “Well, nothing that could have anything to do with what happened.”
Colin let out a frustrated breath. “That’s just the trouble. Nothing that’s been happening seems to tie together, but one thing is clear—whether it’s related to Benj or not, someone isn’t happy that you’ve come back to Deer Run. And that unhappiness is strong enough to make him or her take action.”
Her gaze flew to the door, as if she could see through it to the porch railing. “The railing—you mean that was deliberate.” She didn’t even sound very surprised.
“I can’t be positive, but it looks that way to me. I’ll have another go at it in daylight. But I think that while you were out, someone slid a pry bar behind the upright you fixed and pulled it free enough that as soon as someone put their weight on the railing, it would give way.”
Rachel shook her head in quick denial. “Surely not. They’d have risked being seen.”
“Not much of a risk. The bushes hide that area, and it wouldn’t take more than a few seconds to do it.”
Now it was Rachel’s turn to rub the nape of her neck, as if tension had settled there. His fingers tingled with the image of doing it for her, of running his hand along the long, sweet curve of her nape, of drawing her toward him, of Rachel tilting her face up, unresisting, for his kiss...
Whoa. Back up. Hadn’t he just seen tonight how impossible a relationship with her was? Dad had been with Mandy for no more than a few minutes, and he’d managed to put her at risk.
“Look, are you going to tell me about Laura Hammond? Maybe it has nothing to do with anything, but I’d like to know what reasons anybody might have for wanting to see the last of you.”
A chill slid along his skin even as he said the words. That sounded a lot more final than he’d meant it.
But Rachel didn’t seem to take it that way. She sighed, then flipped the lock on the front door and headed toward the kitchen, motioning for him to follow her.
“Let’s go in the kitchen. I told Mandy I’d make some hot chocolate. We’re giving up on the festival for tonight. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
He followed, taking a seat and watching as Rachel poured milk into a saucepan and set it on the stove. Once she’d put out a mug she sat down across from him.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you, but you’ll see it’s nothing.” She clasped her hands together and looked down at them, as if marshaling her thoughts. “It was twenty years ago, the summer I was ten. I spent a lot of time with Meredith and another girl who was staying here for the summer—Lainey Colton. That didn’t usually happen, but Mammi was busy with a sick relative, and nobody was paying much attention to any of the three of us.”
He nodded, understanding. It wasn’t that Amish and Englisch didn’t become friends, but there were boundaries—boundaries that had apparently been stretched that one summer.
He listened, his gaze on her face, as she told him of their fanciful adventures of that summer, of the way they’d watched the romance between Laura and Aaron, investing them and those around them with mythic properties.
“We didn’t realize we were spying on them, you understand,” she said at one point, fixing him with that serious blue gaze. “We were just playing.”
“I understand.” He’d been totally preoccupied with baseball that summer, as he recalled, and had been just as obsessive about it as the girls had apparently been about their fantasy.
“Anyway, when I came back, it seemed so many things were reminders of how Aaron died.” She spread her hands wide. “Meredith and I started talking about it, remembering more together than we ever would have separately. When I saw what had become of Laura, I wondered...we wondered...if Aaron’s death had anything to do with it. Usually we knew if they were meeting down at the dam, but if it was late in the evening, I’d have been home already, and Meredith had gone someplace with her parents that day.”
It took him a moment to realize where she was going with that. “You think that Laura and Aaron were together when he died.”
Rachel’s face tightened defensively. “It would make more sense than Aaron being there by himself and somehow falling in. But if they were both there, and he was showing off for her, the way kids do, he might have fallen in and gotten caught in the current.”
“She never spoke of it, if that’s the case.”
“No. She wouldn’t have wanted to cause trouble, maybe. And she’d have felt guilty for not saving him.” Rachel’s voice quivered on the last sentence, and the hands that had been loosely clasped on the table were suddenly clenching together so fiercely that the knuckles were white.
“It could have happened that way,” he said carefully, not sure what was going on. “But Laura wasn’t to blame for what happened to Aaron.”
“She’d have felt responsible. It might have made her turn to...to anything...that would make her feel less guilty.” The hands strained against each other.
He couldn’t stand it. He clasped her hands in both of his, holding them warmly. “What is it, Rachel? What do you feel guilty about?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, but her eyes were already brimming with tears. “I can’t.” She tried to turn away. “The milk. I’ll burn it.”
He got up, moved the pan off the burner and sat back down, pulling his chair close to hers. “You might as well tell me,” he said. “You know I’ll keep on guessing until I know. You feel guilty about Ronnie, the way you’re convinced Laura feels guilty about Aaron. Why?”
She held out against him for another second, and then the tears spilled over. She wiped them away with her fingers, like a child, and his heart twisted.
“I sent him away,” she whispered. “I loved him, and we were so happy together at first. But after Mandy was born, and there wasn’t enough money, things just turned sour. I finally told him we couldn’t live together any longer. He was gambling, drinking...Mandy was getting old enough to notice, to understand, and I couldn’t let her down. I’m all she has.”
She didn’t need to fill in all the blanks. He could imagine the rest of it. Rachel hadn’t mentioned women, but he didn’t doubt that there had been other women, where Ronnie was concerned. Ronnie had been a charmer—fun to be with and generous, but careless with money, careless with his property, careless with his family, and ultimately careless with his life.
“That was the right thing to do. Your first responsibility was to your child.” He said the words firmly, even knowing it was that responsibility that would keep her from any involvement with him. “Ronnie was a grown man. If he wanted to throw away everything that should have been important to him, you couldn’t stop him.”
“I should have.” Her fingers clenched again. “If I hadn’t kicked him out, if Mandy and I had been with him—”
“You and Mandy would be dead, too.” Harsh words, but the truth was often harsh. “Wake up, Rachel. You weren’t responsible for Ronnie’s bad choices. If you think you could have prevented them, that’s like thinking you’re God. Nobody could stop Ronnie when he wanted something.”
Anger flared in her eyes at that, but before she could say what she undoubtedly thought of him, a little voice called down the stairs.
“Mommy? Is the hot chocolate ready yet?”
“Almost,” she called, pushing her chair back with an abrupt movement. She seemed to take a steadying breath before she looked at him.
“Forget about what happened between me and Ronnie. That’s not your concern. And you may as well forget about Laura and Aaron, too. Even if Laura knew we’d guessed, what could she do? It’s crazy to think of her out front prying at the stairs.”
“Maybe.” He rose. “I’m inclined to think you’re right. She’d have trouble keeping two thoughts in her head long enough to accomplish that, but anyone could do it. It doesn’t take much strength or skill.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said.
He wondered if she still saw Laura as the enchanted princess from that long-ago summer. Actually, he hadn’t been thinking of Laura. He’d been thinking of Jeannette, who might not be above pulling a trick or two to discourage her competition if she was sure she wouldn’t be caught.
“Somebody did,” he said soberly. “So lock the doors, please. I’ll be back to look at the steps in the morning.”
“You don’t need to.” She busied herself with the hot milk, as if to give herself an excuse not to look at him. “Daad is coming over, and he’ll fix it.”
“I’m coming,” he repeated. She ought to know she wasn’t getting rid of him that easily. “Has anything else happened that I should know about? No anonymous phone calls or nasty notes?”
“No, but—” She stopped, as if something struck her.
“But what?” Was he going to have to drag everything out of her? She was as bad as Benj.
“That grandson of Franklin Sitler’s. Not Dennis, the other one. Gene.”
“The one that looks like a hood? What about him?”
“He was at the fire-hall grounds. They all were.” The words came slowly, as if she were visualizing what had happened. “I was distracted by Laura, and then they started talking to me. Dennis introduced me to Gene. And Gene said something about knowing who I was, and knowing I had a little girl. And then he said where was she, and something about the way he asked frightened me. That’s when I looked around and saw that Mandy was gone.” She shook her head. “But that’s ridiculous. Why would he go to all that trouble? What could he have against me?”
Colin managed a smile, but it was a tight one. “The trouble with you, Rachel, is that you think the best of everyone. Now me, I tend to think the worst. And I have a feeling Gene Sitler wouldn’t disappoint me.”
Rachel straightened. “I don’t want to think about people that way.”
“Then it’s a good thing you have me around to do it for you,” he said. Quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he seized her shoulders, pulled her toward him and gave her a quick, hard kiss on the lips.
Rachel looked a little dazed when he let her go, but not more dazed than he felt. He shouldn’t have done that, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Quickly, before he could let himself kiss her again, he went to the back door.
“Lock this behind me,” he ordered, and walked away.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, the sound of hammering was punctuated by the occasional murmur of Amish voices as Daad and Mose turned up bright and early to start on the repair work. Rachel reminded herself that she should be delighted by the noise, even if it sometimes seemed they were hammering in time with the pounding in her head.
Too little sleep and disturbing dreams hadn’t helped matters, but for the most part she’d been reliving those moments in the kitchen with Colin the previous night. She’d revealed her deepest pain to him, and he’d responded with harsh, almost angry words.
She could give in to being angry in return if it weren’t for the fact that a small voice in the back of her mind kept asserting that Colin just might be right.
If you’d been with him, then you and Mandy would be dead, too.
Much as she tried to dismiss everything Colin had said, the words lingered, haunting her.
The screen door rattled, and her brother Mose walked in. He was a full head taller than she was now, but she could remember when he’d been furious that she’d actually been an inch taller for one whole school year. With only eleven months between them, they’d been more like twins than just brother and sister.
But her “twin” was a grown man now, his short chestnut beard attesting to the fact that he was a married man. He looked at her stiffly, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her, either.
“Daad says do you have a Phillips screwdriver,” he said in Pennsylvania Dutch, as usual slipping the Englisch name into the flow effortlessly. Most Amish did that—incorporating Englisch words into the language for anything that had come along since the eighteenth century.
“I think so.” She led the way to the trunk filled with tools that took up so much space in the back hallway. “It looks as if all the tools are in here.” She lifted the heavy lid.
“Ach, what a collection.” Mose’s frostiness turned into awe. He picked up an old-fashioned square-cut nail. “The old lady must never have thrown anything away.”
“I guess not. You should see the attic. More crowded than even Great-aunt Mattie’s used to be.”
Mose smiled in response, maybe remembering, as she did, hours spent playing in the clutter when they were supposed to be cleaning it up for Mamm’s elderly aunt.
The smile touched her heart, but before she could speak the smile had been replaced by a chilly, guarded expression. Mose might as well come out and say that even if Daad had softened toward her, he wasn’t convinced.
