Home by dark, p.7
Home by Dark, page 7
“We were...we were trespassing.” The way Benj seemed to be editing his words made Rachel fear they’d been doing something worse than trespassing. “And there was a man—he yelled at us, and we ran. But he...he had a shotgun. We got away, and Will said it would be all right as long as we didn’t tell anyone, that the man couldn’t know who we were. Will said if I told I could end up in jail.” He seemed to run out of steam, his voice trembling.
Colin exchanged glances with her. “Look, first of all, nobody is going to put you in jail for trespassing. Secondly, if Will got a good scare over this, maybe he did decide to scoot out of town for a while.”
“Maybe. Maybe he’s hiding, but then maybe the man will come after me.”
It sounded absurd, but obviously her brother took the possibility seriously. “Benj, this isn’t something you can handle on your own. You need to tell Daadi—”
“No!” Benj took a step back, his eyes widening. He looked more afraid of telling Daad than of the man with the shotgun. “Please, Rachel, I can’t. He would be so...so...”
“Disappointed.” She finished the sentence for him. Of all people, she knew what it was like to disappoint Daad.
“Ja. Please...I—I know I should tell him, but not yet.”
“Your dad’s going to want to know where you’ve been,” Colin said. “Are you going to lie to him?”
Benj shook his head. “I’ll tell him I was over at Joseph’s and forgot the time. That’s the truth. Just not all of it.”
Rachel could only hope he hadn’t picked up that rationalization from her, back when she’d been hiding her meetings with Ronnie. “But if Will is hiding, Daad ought to know, so he can talk to Will’s folks.”
“I can’t. If I told Will’s folks, he would...” Benj let that trail off, as if he couldn’t imagine what Will might do. A tear trickled down his cheek, and he didn’t even attempt to wipe it away. “Rachel, promise me. Promise me you won’t tell Daadi. Please.” He caught her hand, clinging to it, and her heart seemed to jolt.
She couldn’t speak for a moment, and the silence seemed alive with crosscurrents—Benj’s desperation, Colin’s determination, her own indecision.
If she told Daad, she would ruin the relationship she’d begun to build with her brother. If she didn’t tell him, and Daad found out, he would never forgive her. Either way, she stood to lose.
But she didn’t really have a choice, not with her brother looking at her with such despair in his eyes. “I will not tell Daad,” she said slowly.
She wouldn’t. Which meant she had to find a way of dealing with the situation Benj had gotten himself into on her own.
CHAPTER FIVE
COLIN WALKED WITH Benjamin as far as the covered bridge, half-thinking the boy might make a bolt for it rather than go home. But Benj walked, if reluctantly, up the lane, and his father came out to meet him.
Colin turned back, emerging from the darkness of the covered bridge into the gentle haze of twilight in the valley. He couldn’t help a sideways glance down toward the dam. It looked so peaceful, the water tumbling over the edge to form a quiet pool beneath the trees. But local people knew that peacefulness was deceptive, and kids had always been warned away, even before Aaron Mast’s death.
He headed for the stable where he’d left Rachel, only to see her disappearing into the back entrance of the house. The door closed with a somewhat determined thud.
So Rachel didn’t want to have a conversation with him about her brother’s story. That was a shame, because he had no intention of letting it slide.
When he reached the door he found that Rachel might have closed it, but she hadn’t locked it. He tapped on the frame while opening the door. This was not a talk he wanted to have through the door.
Rachel spun to face him, annoyance clear in her expression. But he could see past the annoyance to the very real worry that dwelled beneath.
“I don’t want to be rude, but I really wish—”
“Be as rude as you like,” he invited. “I’m sure you don’t want to discuss your brother with me. But it’s too late. I heard, and I’m not going to walk away and conveniently forget.”
“Why not?” She didn’t say it angrily. She actually looked as if she needed an answer to that question.
Because I have something to make up to you, Rachel. “Because Benj is a friend, and he’s in trouble. And because you’re a friend, I hope, and you’ve just agreed to keep quiet about that trouble.”
“I suppose you think I should have told on Benj.” Her voice snapped with irritation.
“You sound like your little brother. Isn’t that what Benj did? Making a stupid promise got him into this grief.” Resisting the impulse to touch her arm, he gestured toward the kitchen table. “Come on, Rachel. You know I’m not going away that easily, and I didn’t make any promises. So let’s sit down and talk this over.”
Her temper hung in the balance for an instant, but then she nodded, capitulating so suddenly it took him by surprise.
“You’re right, of course. I’m sorry for snapping. Sit down. I’d better check on Mandy.”
He’d like to think she’d given in because she trusted him, but he wasn’t that naive. He pulled out one of the ladder-back chairs and sat. No, she’d agreed to talk because of his implied threat. Trust had nothing to do with it.
He glanced around the kitchen. He’d never been in it, that he recalled. Mrs. Mason hadn’t encouraged Ronnie to entertain his friends there. And they certainly hadn’t wanted to sit in that formal parlor, so the result had been that they’d gathered elsewhere. It looked more welcoming than he would have imagined, but maybe that was Rachel’s touch.
Rachel was back in a moment, letting the kitchen door swing shut behind her. “She’s up in her room, so she won’t hear us. I don’t want Mandy knowing anything about Benj’s situation.” On the subject of her daughter, Rachel was uncompromising.
“She won’t hear anything from me,” Colin said. “But that story of Benj’s—you don’t imagine he was telling us the whole thing, do you?”
“No.” Rachel rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. “I’m sure he knows more than that—where they were, and what they were up to, for instance. As for the man with the shotgun...” She let that trail off and sank into the chair opposite him. “Do you think that was real?”
He frowned, picturing Benj’s face when he’d said those words. “I think he believed the man had a shotgun, but whether he really did or not is another question. That might have been Benj’s guilty conscience imagining things.”
“He does feel guilty, doesn’t he?” She grasped on that part of his words. “That’s good, I think. Maybe it will discourage him from doing anything so foolish again.”
“Maybe.” Knowing teenage boys he doubted it, but let her hold on to her illusions. “And the man could have had a gun. It would be a rare house around here that didn’t have a hunting weapon of some sort. And someone hearing prowlers on his property might well carry one to investigate.”
Rachel nodded, a shudder going through her. “Benj should have realized that sort of thing might be dangerous. Why on earth would he sneak out like that?”
“Because the older kid asked him, or maybe dared him, and he had to show what a man he was.” He could remember more than a few instances when he’d fallen for similar temptation. “Somebody once dared me to raid Franklin Sitler’s apple trees, and I was stupid enough to do it. That old man can move faster than you’d think. He took off after me with a BB gun, and I was lucky to escape a peppering. Not so lucky when my dad found out, though.”
Dad hadn’t been one to spare the rod and spoil the child in those days, but hearing his father accuse him of stealing had hurt worse than any physical punishment.
Rachel actually smiled at that, but then she sobered just as quickly. “Mr. Sitler has that reputation.” Rachel glanced toward the front of the house, as if she could see through the walls to the house across the street. “If they trespassed on his property—”
Colin snorted. “Trespassed? They were planning more than that, believe me. Some sort of vandalism, or I miss my guess.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe Benj would be involved in vandalism. He knows that’s wrong.”
“Of course he does. There’d be no fun in doing it otherwise.” The expression on her face made him dial it back. Now was not the time to tell her about the things he and Ronnie used to get into. “Look, this business about Will Esch disappearing—that’s what bothers me. Benj didn’t seem to know what to really think about it, just that it scares him.”
“Running off is all part of rumspringa for some boys. They think they have to see a little of the Englisch world before they settle down. At least, with him out of the way, Benj won’t be getting into any more trouble.”
He hated to burst her bubble, but he had to. “Benj doesn’t see it that way. He’s acting even jumpier than he did before. And that’s why you ought to let your dad handle it.”
“I know. I know.” Rachel’s eyes were filled with misery. “But you heard Benj. He’s more frightened of disappointing Daad than of whatever it is he’s gotten involved in. Believe me, I know that feeling.”
He reached out, clasping her hand where it lay on the table. “I’m sorry. He still hasn’t forgiven you?”
Rachel shook her head, looking down at the maple surface of the table, probably to hide the fact that there were tears in her eyes. She took a breath so deep he could see her chest rise and fall. “I promised Benj. I know it wasn’t a smart promise to make, but I can’t let him down. If I tell Daad, Benj will never forgive me.”
“Right. And if you keep his secret and your father finds out, he’ll never forgive you.”
She nodded, not looking up. She seemed to have forgotten that he was holding her hand.
“Well, I guess there’s just one thing for it, then.” He forced some cheerfulness into his voice. “I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves how serious this business is.”
She did look up at that, and she drew her hand away from his. “We?” The spark came back into her voice and her face. “I don’t recall asking for your help.”
“You forget, Benj told me as well as you. That means I’m in.”
She shook her head firmly. “I’ll try to get Benj to tell me more, and I’ll question my sisters and see if they have any notion of what he was up to. There’s nothing you can do.”
“Sure there is. I can find out if anyone’s been complaining about vandalism, for one thing. If a homeowner chased off a bunch of kids, he’ll be talking about it.”
Alarm filled her face. “You won’t let on that Benj is involved.”
“What do you take me for? No, never mind, don’t answer that.” He already knew what she thought of him, and he didn’t need to hear it again. “I’ll be subtle. If we could find out where Will Esch went...”
He pondered, turning over possibilities in his mind. Trouble was, the Amish tended to stay off the grid. There was no easy way to trace an Amish kid who wanted to vanish.
“One of my sisters might know what the other kids are saying. They’re more likely to know than the adults.” Rachel was looking better for having a plan for what to do about Benj’s trouble.
“Good idea.” He hesitated, wanting to touch her reassuringly but thinking he’d better not push it. “We’ll figure it out. Try not to worry.”
She nodded, managing a faint smile. “Thank you, Colin. I’m not sure why you’re taking so much trouble over this, but thank you.”
He did touch her then, just a quick, feather-light brush of his knuckles against her hand. It was a tenuous truce between them, one that could collapse at a breath. But he’d take what he could get where Rachel was concerned, it seemed.
* * *
BY THE NEXT DAY, Rachel was planning her first approach to solving Benj’s problem. She had to find out what, if anything, her mother knew about it. Benj seemed to think he was succeeding in keeping secrets from their parents, but Rachel doubted it, at least where Mamm was concerned.
The major issue in seeing her mother was catching Mamm at a time when Daad wasn’t around. If Daad was there, the conversation would never get deeper than meaningless chatter.
Fortunately she’d glanced out the side window in midmorning and spotted Daad and Mose going up the lane from their farm in the wagon. They turned right at the road, headed in the direction of the feed mill.
If that was where they were headed, they’d be some time. Though the men would deny gossiping, the mill was the center for male exchange of news and views about anything and everything that went on in the valley and beyond.
Once the wagon had moved out of sight, she called to Mandy to join her, and soon they were headed back along the lane, Rachel carrying a couple of empty egg cartons that would serve as an excuse for her appearance at her parents’ farm if one was needed.
Mandy skipped beside her, her sneakers making a hollow sound on the floor of the covered bridge. “Has the bridge been here a long time, Mommy?” She gave an extra jump to emphasize her question.
“Longer than I can remember, anyway.” It had never occurred to Rachel to wonder, but she’d never been as curious and questioning as Mandy was. Was that because of the way she’d been brought up, or simply an innate difference between them? “There might be a date on one of the end posts. Let’s look.”
They emerged into sunlight, and Mandy darted to the right, clutching the end post to peer at it. “There’s nothing here,” she called. “Maybe the other one.” She started for the other post, but Rachel caught her hand.
“We can look on the way back. Right now I want to get to the farmhouse before—”
Before her father got back. No, she didn’t intend to say that, did she?
“Before what, Mommy?” Mandy always pitched on just the thing you wanted her to ignore.
“Before it gets too late to make those cookies you want to bake. We need to get eggs, remember?” She held up the egg cartons, as if they verified her intent.
“I remember. Chocolate chip or peanut butter?”
“Whichever you want.” A full cookie jar had been a given in her childhood. May a child never run out of your pantry with a tear in his eye. Her mother had been a firm believer in that old Pennsylvania Dutch saying.
Mandy darted ahead of her as they walked up the lane to the farmhouse, blithely sure of her welcome. Something seemed to squeeze Rachel’s heart. She never wanted her child to lose that bright self-confidence.
As they neared the house, Mandy started for the front door, but Rachel shook her head. “We’ll go to the back. In the country, people mostly go to the kitchen door.”
Mandy fell into step with her, but her head tilted as she came out with the inevitable question. “Why?”
Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know.” Her daughter was making her question things she’d always taken for granted. “I guess the kitchen is the busiest place in the house, and people just naturally go there.”
She stepped up onto the porch and came to a halt at the screen door. Knock, or just go in? It seemed ridiculous to knock on a door she’d run in and out of thousands of times.
Luckily it was decided for her. Lovina, her sixteen-year-old sister, spotted them and darted to hold the door open for them, her freckled face widening in a smile that seemed genuinely welcoming. “Rachel and Mandy. Komm, komm.” She shooed them inside. “Mammi, look who is here.”
The farmhouse kitchen never changed, it seemed—the same faded linoleum on the floor, the same wooden cabinets, surely the same long pine table at which she’d shared family meals for so many years. The gas range contained several steaming kettles, and the air was filled with the sweet, rich scent of strawberries.
“You’re making strawberry jam. I hope we haven’t come at a bad time.” Rachel stopped just inside the kitchen, her gaze on her mother’s face—still, even stern, with lines carved probably by Rachel’s deeds. If Mammi didn’t want her here...
“Daad and Mose went to the mill. They won’t be back for ages,” Lovina said quickly.
“Ja, that is so.” Mamm looked at Mandy, her expression softening. She wiped her hands carefully on a dish towel and then held them out to Mandy. “Will you give your grossmammi a hug, then?”
Luckily Mandy didn’t require any urging. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around Mamm’s waist. They made a strange picture, the gray-haired figure in dark Amish garb holding tightly to the ponytailed child in jeans and a bright aqua T-shirt.
Mamm’s gaze met Rachel’s over her child’s head. It was a look filled with a complex mix of emotions, mingling love, fear and worry. But not blame, Rachel thought, and gratitude filled her heart. This might not be easy, but at least she had a chance to mend fences with her mother.
