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CHAPTER FOUR

COLIN GRASPED THE doorknob, holding the door ajar while he studied Rachel’s face. She obviously believed what she was saying, but was that realistic? Wasn’t it far more likely that she’d just forgotten to lock the door?

“Maybe the lock didn’t catch when you went out,” he said, trying for diplomacy.

Rachel’s expression said she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I did not forget to lock the door, and I double-checked it when I left. You learn that much, living in the city.”

Before he could answer, Mandy wedged herself between them, reaching for the door. “Let me go in, please, Mommy. I want to get a drink for Duke.”

Rachel grasped her daughter’s shoulders in a quick, protective movement. Obviously his idea was backfiring.

“I’ll bet there’s an outside faucet somewhere near the flower beds,” he suggested. “Why don’t you use that one? You don’t want Duke’s muddy paws in your house.”

Duke’s paws weren’t really muddy, but maybe that would distract the child from getting in before he’d had a chance to check the house.

“That’s a good idea,” Rachel said, seconding him before Mandy could object. “Remember the faucet and bucket where Benj washed the brushes? You can use that one.”

“I remember.” Mandy darted off the porch with Duke lumbering after her. Poor old boy was getting more exercise than he’d expected, but at least it got Mandy out of the way.

“I suppose Benj might have come over.” Rachel reached for the door, obviously intending to see for herself.

Colin grasped her hand to forestall her and felt an almost visceral jolt at the brief contact. Rachel’s gaze met his, her blue eyes seeming to widen before she dropped her gaze.

“Let me,” he said. Before she could argue the point, he pushed open the door and stepped inside the entrance hall. He stood for a moment, listening, effectively blocking the door so that Rachel couldn’t rush in behind him.

Nothing. The staircase, with its mahogany railing, wound upward in silence; the rooms to either side of the hallway stood empty and still. The house seemed to be holding its breath, waiting.

He shook off the fancy. “Doesn’t look like anything’s disturbed.” He moved to the console table, letting Rachel come in behind him. “Except this.” He gestured to the table, where a paper-wrapped sheaf of pink roses lay next to a basket of fruit, their fragrance perfuming the air.

Rachel stared at the roses as if they hid a snake. “Someone’s been in here.”

She still seemed upset out of proportion to the cause, and he reminded himself to proceed cautiously. The little he knew of her life in recent years didn’t encourage him to think it had been free of trouble. Experience had probably convinced her that surprises were usually unpleasant.

“Maybe one of the other doors was unlocked,” he suggested. “Anyway, people bearing fruit and flowers rarely have malicious intent, ain’t so?”

His use of the familiar Pennsylvania Dutch tag was intended to break the tension, and it seemed to. Rachel’s lips softened a bit, even if she didn’t manage a smile.

“I guess you’re right. Denke, Colin. I’m being silly. I—”

The sound of a footstep in the kitchen cut off whatever she’d been going to say. With a quick, instinctive movement he closed the space between them.

And then felt foolish when the swinging door to the back of the house opened to reveal Jeannette Walker, holding a milk-glass vase in one hand.

“Rachel, there you are. Hello, Colin.” Jeannette came toward them quickly, apparently oblivious of having caused any alarm. “I stopped by to say welcome.” She gestured with the vase. “Just looking for something to put the roses in. A bed-and-breakfast doesn’t look welcoming without flowers, I find.”

“They’re beautiful, Ms. Walker.” Rachel recovered her powers of speech. “It’s so kind of you to bring them.”

“Not at all. I know Amanda let the flower beds go terribly in recent years.” Jeannette was at her most gracious—the successful innkeeper welcoming a newcomer who would be no competition at all.

While the women fussed over the arrangement of roses in the vase Colin scrutinized Jeannette, wondering what her agenda was. Prior experience of Jeannette Walker told him she always had an agenda. Whether it was a question of the right Christmas decorations for the village stores or the advisability of allowing a billboard at the edge of town, Jeannette rammed her wishes through with such subtlety that few people even realized they’d been manipulated.

The iron fist in the velvet glove—that was Jeannette. She wore her usual uniform of tailored slacks and sweater set with pearls—apparently what she considered proper attire for her position, winter or summer. She was only in her mid-forties, probably, but her tightly permed curls and carefully outlined lips made her look older.

Jeannette turned toward him as if she’d read his thoughts. “Colin, I’m surprised you’re not working today. But then, I suppose the real estate business is rather slow at the moment.”

He just smiled, inured to Jeannette’s petty barbs. “Or I might be so busy that I needed a day off. Hard to tell, isn’t it?”

Jeannette gave a slight sniff, dismissing him, and turned to Rachel. “Now, I want you to feel free to call on me anytime for advice. It’s so complicated to set up a B and B—all those tax rules and safety regulations, the advertising, the record-keeping. And there’s the difficulty of maintaining a web presence, because of course that’s how everyone shops these days, even for vacations. And setting up online reservations can be such a nightmare. Believe me, I know how overwhelming it can be for someone with little experience.”

If Rachel hadn’t been overwhelmed before, she looked it now after Jeannette’s recital of the tasks ahead of her.

“Just ask me for advice anytime,” Jeannette reiterated on her way to the door. “I’m here to help.”

Rachel stammered out a goodbye, and the door closed behind Jeannette.

“Help herself, more likely,” he commented, his tone caustic.

“She was being nice,” Rachel said. “Do you always have to be so cynical?”

That wasn’t the first time she’d accused of that particular fault. “Didn’t you see what Jeannette was doing? You...”

He stopped, seeming to hear an echo of Ronnie’s voice in his words. Ronnie, berating Rachel for something left undone on that one occasion he’d visited them after they’d married. Ronnie, turning his caustic wit against the woman who was working a menial job to help support their little family.

“Sorry.” He really did have to watch what he said. “I guess you got enough cynicism from Ronnie to last you a lifetime.”

Rachel’s chin lifted. “You can keep your sympathy to yourself. You don’t know anything at all about our marriage.”

“Don’t I?” His temper flared at that. “I know what I saw. You working like a slave to keep food on the table and Ronnie using that sharp tongue of his to cut you to ribbons, blaming you...”

He stopped, knowing he’d gone too far.

Pain and embarrassment chased each other across Rachel’s face, but then her shoulders squared. “If that’s what you thought of us, I’m not surprised you never came back for another visit.”

He reached out and grasped her wrist, feeling her pulse beating hard against his palm. “I didn’t come back because if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge to knock Ronnie’s block off. And maybe a little healthy cynicism would be good for you.”

For a moment they stared at each other, and it seemed to him that the very air echoed with the beat of her pulse. Then she wrenched her hand free, the color coming up in her cheeks.

“You—”

The front door swung open to admit child and dog. “Duke had his drink. And I wiped his paws off, honest I did, Mommy.”

With a fulminating look at him, Rachel turned to her daughter. “That’s fine, dear. I don’t mind Duke coming in, but give the leash to Mr. McDonald now. He has to go.”

Mandy handed it over with a slight pout. “Come again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing, Mandy.” He glanced at Rachel. Her lips were pressed tightly together. “Hard not to say what you think, isn’t it?” he asked.

She unclenched her jaw. “Goodbye, Colin.”

* * *

MANDY CHATTERED ABOUT Colin’s dog all through supper, making it impossible for Rachel to stop thinking about him. Colin, that is. Not the dog. Of course Duke was the only thing on her daughter’s mind. Mandy had been asking for a puppy since she learned to talk, it sometimes seemed.

When they lived in the city, Rachel had found that a reasonable excuse not to burden herself with a dog. Now that they were ensconced in Deer Run, that reason no longer applied. She’d either have to come up with another one or give in.

Colin’s suggestion that a dog would provide protection for her and Mandy might have some validity, although she hated to admit that since it came from him. She’d been frightened, almost irrationally so, to find the door unlocked and someone in the house, even so benign a visitor as Jeannette. Maybe Benj’s fears were rubbing off on her.

Rachel carried dishes to the sink and turned on the hot water. They were eating in the kitchen, since it seemed silly for the two of them to sit in that formal dining room. Besides, it was the most cheerful room in the house, with its white walls and blue-and-white checked curtains at the many-paned south-facing windows. Some geraniums would probably do well on the two sills, distracting the eye from the faded linoleum on the floor and a gas range so elderly that it made her nervous every time she turned it on. Benj had lit it for her the first time, laughing at her fears.

Benj hadn’t come over today, unless he’d been here while she and Mandy were out. That was unusual. He’d stopped by every day since she’d moved in.

Mandy carried her plate carefully to the sink and handed it to Rachel. “I’ll clear the table, Mommy. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, sweetheart.” She loved it when Mandy helped without waiting to be asked, although a slight suspicion lurked at the back of her mind that Mandy might be intent on showing that she was mature enough for a puppy.

“Is Duke an old dog?” Mandy set her milk glass on the counter with a slight clink.

“I don’t know. What makes you ask that?”

“He has some gray hair on his face. I thought maybe that meant he was old.”

“You’re very observant.” She tugged at one of the ponytails Mandy wore today. “You can ask—”

A knock at the back door interrupted her. Maybe Benj, although he usually just opened the door and shouted. She hurried to the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and pulled it open. A cheerful greeting died on her lips. It wasn’t Benj. It was her father.

“Daadi.” The word came out as something of a croak. “I didn’t expect...come in, please.” She stepped back, gesturing toward the kitchen, trying to talk naturally around the lump in her throat. If her father was ready to accept her...

But he was already shaking his head at the invitation, his dark blue eyes distant. Ten years hadn’t really changed him much, save for a few gray hairs in the brown beard that reached his chest and a few more wrinkles around his eyes. His summer straw hat sat squarely on his head, looking exactly like the straw hats he’d worn since she could remember, and his suspenders crossed shoulders that were still strong.

“I am looking for Benjamin.” He clipped off the words. “He is here, ja?”

Rachel blinked a little, shaking her head. “We haven’t seen him today. Is something wrong?” She felt a small hand slip into hers. Mandy had come to stand next to her. She didn’t speak, but she studied her grandfather curiously.

“Nothing.” His expression belied the word, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to confide in her. Still, the very fact that he’d come to her door made it clear that he was worried about Benj. “He missed his supper, and his mamm is fretting about it.”

“Is Benj in trouble for missing supper?” Mandy asked.

Her father stared at Mandy for a moment, and Rachel had a sense that his expression was softening. “Not in trouble. But he should tell his mammi if he is going to be late, ja?”

“Ja,” she echoed.

Daad raised his hand in a slight gesture, as if about to touch Mandy’s face. Then he let it drop to his side and turned away.

Rachel’s heart cramped. Daadi, I know I broke your heart when I ran away. But I’m back now. Can’t we be friends, at least, for Mandy’s sake?

She wouldn’t say it, because she was afraid to hear his response.

“If I see Benj...” she began.

“If you see him, send him home. He has missed his supper.”

“I’ll tell him.” But she was talking to her father’s back as he walked away.

Rachel closed the door. She had known it wouldn’t be easy, coming back. She just hadn’t thought it would cause so much pain.

“Mommy, why doesn’t he like us?” Mandy didn’t sound hurt so much as curious.

“He doesn’t dislike us, sweetheart.” She picked her way through the thicket of explaining incomprehensible adult behavior to a child. “You see, he and my mother were really hurt when I ran away from them to marry your daddy. I think it’s hard for him to forget that.”

“Well, but you’re back now.” Mandy’s tone was practical. “I wish we could make up and be friends. Then I’d have a grandpa and grandma like everybody else.”

“I wish that, too.” She couldn’t let Mandy see her pain, because it was important that Mandy know she could count on her mother to be strong. “Maybe it will happen. We just have to be patient.”

Mandy stared at her for a long moment in much the same way she’d studied Daadi. “I’ll try,” she said finally, as if being patient was the hardest thing in the world. Well, maybe it was to a nine-year-old.

Rachel managed a smile. “Now, why don’t you find something to do while I finish up the dishes? Maybe we’ll have time for a game afterward.”

Mandy nodded. “I know just what to do. I’m going to make a picture of Duke. I’ll show you when I’m done.” She darted off, the kitchen door swinging behind her.

Rachel stared at the sink. She ought to get moving on the dishes. She ought to do a lot of things, but right now all she could think about was Benj. Her parents had to be very worried indeed for her father to come to her door.

The back window looked out over the outbuildings and beyond them to the creek and the covered bridge that crossed it, delineating Amish farms from the village proper. Daad had already appeared on the other side of the covered bridge. He paused for a moment, looking downstream, and fear curled inside her. Twenty yards or so beyond the bridge the stream tumbled over the small dam that had been there as long as anyone could remember. Pearson’s Dam, it was called, but she had no idea who Pearson had been. The dam wasn’t more than three feet high, but the force of water was such that a person could be swept under by it as if caught in a riptide. That was what had happened to Aaron Mast.

But Daad was walking on, heading for the stretch of woods along the south pasture. Obviously there had been no one at the dam.

Still, the fear was admitted, wasn’t easily dismissed. She ought to do something, but what?

A memory slid into her mind as if it had been waiting for the chance. Colin had said he’d expected Benj to show up to work on the lawn. Maybe that was the answer.

Without giving herself time to think about it, she went quickly to the telephone in the hallway. It was the work of a moment to look up Colin’s number and punch the buttons. If Colin thought she was making an excuse to call him—

She nearly hung up at that thought, but she already heard his voice in her ear.

“Colin, it’s Rachel Mason. I’m sorry to bother you, but is Benj at your place, by any chance? My father is looking for him.”

“He’s not here now. Let me ask my father if he came over earlier.”

She heard the sound of muffled voices and could tell that the answer was negative even before Colin came back on the line.

“Dad hasn’t seen him today. Is something wrong?” His voice deepened on the question, and she knew he was revisiting their earlier conversation about Benj.

“No...no, nothing.” That wasn’t quite true, but it also wasn’t Colin’s business.

“Come on, Rachel. You wouldn’t be calling me if nothing was wrong, now would you?” Something that might have been amusement threaded the concern in his tone. “What is it?”

“My daad stopped by to see if Benj was here, that’s all. He didn’t come home for supper. It’s not exactly earthshaking.” She tried to sound as if she were taking Benj’s absence lightly and was afraid she didn’t succeed.

“I’ll come over,” Colin said instantly, proving that she hadn’t deceived him.

“No, don’t do that. He’s probably turned up by now.” She rushed the words, regretting that she had called. “Thanks.” She hung up quickly, before Colin could say anything else.

Walking to the rear window, Rachel peered out. She couldn’t see her father now. Had he gone back to the house? Or had he walked into the woods beyond the pasture?

Standing here worrying wasn’t helping. She went quickly to the bottom of the stairs. “Mandy, I’m going outside for a minute. I’ll be right back.” Her voice seemed to bounce around the turn in the stairs.

“Okay, Mommy.”

Judging by the sound, Mandy was in her room, probably hard at work on the promised picture. Since that room overlooked the willow on the side of the house, Mandy would be unlikely to see her in the backyard, looking...well, she wasn’t sure where she was going to look. She just knew that doing nothing wasn’t an option.

Pulling on the navy windbreaker that hung in the back hall, Rachel slipped out the back door. The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the ridge, and she knew how quickly darkness could claim the valley after sunset. The air was already cooling, and she was glad of the jacket.

The garage, the old stable, other outbuildings she hadn’t yet identified—there were plenty of places for a skinny teenager to hide, even without going into the woods. But why was she thinking about hiding? Logically speaking, Benj had no reason to hide, but fear wasn’t logical, and she had seen fear in her little brother’s eyes lately, no matter how he tried to hide it.

She walked past the outbuildings toward the covered bridge. Daad had already looked there, of course. She’d seen him. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to have a quick glance herself.

The inside of the one-lane bridge was already dark, with the arched opening at the other showing an empty stretch of lane. The covered bridge had only one window cut into the side that looked downstream. It was a simple, utilitarian structure, built over a century ago to provide both access to the village from the farms and to give farmers a place to shelter a loaded wagon in case of a storm.

Rachel put one hand against a rough-hewn timber and shivered. When she was young, she’d seen the bridge as her gateway to the world. Now it seemed a barrier, cutting her off from what had once been so familiar.

Shaking away the thought, she turned back the way she’d come. She stepped out of the bridge and found herself face-to-face with Colin. Her breath caught.

“What are you doing here?” That came out more sharply than it should have, probably.

“Has Benj turned up yet?” He answered with a question of his own.

She shook her head. Surely Daad would let her know if Benj had been found. He’d know she was worried.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Goodness, he’s fourteen, not four.” But she couldn’t prevent a sideways glance down toward the dam, spilling over into its pool.

“You’re imagining him falling over the dam. Not very likely.”

Colin was quick as a cat, and it annoyed her that he read her so easily.

“No, of course not. Someone mentioned the deaths that have happened there, and I guess it was in my mind, that’s all.”

“Deaths?” Colin frowned for a moment. “Aaron Mast, I remember his drowning. And there was a story before that of an Amish girl who’d drowned—I think the grown-ups just used that to scare us away.”

“I didn’t hear about that one. Maybe my parents didn’t think I needed scaring. But what about Ronnie’s dad?”

Colin just stared at her for a moment, and then he frowned. “He didn’t drown. He was fishing in the pond, I think, and he had a heart attack.”

“I don’t know why we’re talking about that, anyway.” She took a step toward the house, rubbing her arms. The sun had completed its descent, taking the warmth of the day with it. “Benj isn’t there, and wherever he is...” She let that trail off. Where was he?

“I know where he might be,” Colin said.

She whirled on him. “If you know, why didn’t you say so, instead of upsetting me with talk about people drowning? Where is he?”

“I said might.” Colin nodded toward the stable. “I happened to see him in there yesterday. Let’s have a look.”

He led the way, moving so quickly that she had to hurry to keep up. “I don’t see why—” she began, but he gestured her to be quiet.

The door was partially open. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Colin stepped inside, and she followed him.

The dusty windows let in very little light. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dimness. Castoff furniture and boxes containing who knows what were stacked so high that they loomed like creatures preparing to attack.

A click, and then light blossomed, turning the lurking shadows into a pathetic collection of junk. Colin had obviously brought a flashlight. He aimed the beam on a narrow passageway between the crates.

“Come on out, Benj,” he said. “I know you’re in here.”

Nothing. Silence, save for some vague creaks. She shook her head. “This isn’t doing any good.”

Colin ignored her, bending to focus the flashlight beam into the hole. “Don’t make me come in there after you. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

She started to turn away and then swung back at a scuffling noise, her breath catching. Benj came crawling slowly out into the light, blinking as if he were a mole hauled into the daylight.

“Ja, all right. I am here.”

Rachel grabbed him, pulling him to his feet, not sure whether she wanted to hug him or shake him. “Benj, what on earth are you playing at? Do you know Daadi was here looking for you? What do you mean by scaring everyone that way?”

He looked up at her, his expression so strained and miserable that she wanted the scolding words back.

She touched his cheek gently. “What is it, Benj? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t.” It came out as a whisper, and his head dropped so that he wasn’t meeting her eyes. “I promised.”

“A promise that makes you scared to death and upsets your family? What kind of a promise is that? Benj—” She ran out of words, not sure what to say in the face of his stubborn silence.

“Wake up, Benj.” Colin’s voice was so stern that her brother’s head jerked back, his eyes going wide. “Okay, you made a promise. Trust me, I remember promises like that—stupid ones that you knew when you made them weren’t worth it.” Colin sounded as if he really was talking about himself. “It’s time to straighten up and act like a man, not a kid. Now tell your sister what this is all about before I pull your dad in to hear it.”

“No, don’t.” Benj’s face went even whiter, if that were possible. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...” Tears welled in his eyes, and he knuckled them away, shamefaced. “I don’t know what to do. Will made us promise not to tell. But now Will is gone, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Will Esch?” Colin rapped out the question.

Benj nodded, choking back a sob.

Will Esch. Rachel repeated the name silently. She knew the family. Will must be a couple of years older than Benj.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Colin seemed to be having more success getting information out of Benj than she had, so Rachel forced herself to keep silent.

“He...he was gone when his mother went to call him today. They think he’s run off. But what if he didn’t? What if something happened—” He fell silent so suddenly it was like shutting off a tap. He shook his head. “After I heard, I couldn’t go home. Daadi would know the minute he looked at me that something was wrong. I had to think on it a bit.” He gestured toward the hiding place, as if to say that had been his haven for thinking through his troubles.

“Okay, so you and Will and somebody else were involved in something you shouldn’t have been, and Will made you promise not to tell anyone for fear you’d get into trouble.” Colin had put the story together more quickly than she had.

Benj gulped and nodded.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re so scared. Come on, out with the rest of it.”

The command in Colin’s tone would have convinced someone a lot more sophisticated than a fourteen-year-old Amish boy, and Rachel could only be thankful he was there. She’d never have gotten this much out of Benj on her own.

“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.