The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou

Chapter 26




“I wish I had tried harder to understand my son. But that don’t count for much now, does it?”

ABRAHAM BORNTRAGER




The Schrock Variety Store loomed in front of her like an imposing city skyscraper made of glass. Staring at it made Deborah sweat. She truly wished she was anywhere else in the world.

Though she’d been happy to accept Abby Anderson’s invitation to run errands together, Deborah had never imagined that Schrock’s Variety Store was Abby’s destination.

Through the partly open doorway, she heard a few voices chattering. Children’s laughter. She spied the store’s vast array of merchandise. Until recently, just seeing all the bright items made her feel like an excited child in a candy store.

Now it only made her uncomfortable. Somewhere inside was Jacob Schrock. “Abby, I’ll wait here while you go inside,” she said. “Take your time.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “I was afraid you were going to do this.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh yes, you are. We both know that.” Grabbing her hand, Abby tugged. “Come on, Deborah. There is no way you are going to stand out here on the porch.”

But just like an ornery mule, Deborah didn’t want to be budged. “Abby, don’t push so. I’m perfectly fine sitting on one of these rocking chairs.”

“Like the old people do on Saturday afternoons?” Abby shook her head. “No way are you doing that.” Lowering her voice, she said, “You’ve got to face him sometime, Deborah. It’s not like you can avoid people you don’t want to see. It’s impossible to do that in Crittenden.”

Abby had a point. But still, there was no need to be in a hurry to be scowled at. “I’ll see him soon. Maybe at church we’ll talk.”

“If you’re going to see each other during church services, you might as well talk to each other now.” Obviously trying to hold on to her patience, Abby tugged again. “Come on, Deborah. You know as well as I do that you’ll feel better after you see Jacob again. It’s always the waiting and wondering that’s the hardest.”

“When did you get so full of wisdom?”

“Since I’ve been hanging around my Amish grandmother,” she said with a smile. “And since I learned to . . . you know . . . like myself.”

Abby’s words were heartfelt and simply said. Since Deborah knew how hard it must have been for her to admit such a thing, she let herself be pulled into Schrock’s.

When the door partially closed behind them, Abby darted a concerned look her way. “Okay?”

“I am fine.” With a shooing motion, she presented a fake smile. “Now go do what you need to do. I’m going to look at these things here.”

“Sure?”

“Positive.” She smiled more brightly until Abby turned away. Then, as Abby darted down the aisles looking for her brother, Deborah hovered around the front display of garden tools.

For once, Mr. Schrock wasn’t manning the front counter. She couldn’t find a stray animal or snake, either. Instead, it was fairly quiet—the only voices she heard were mumbled conversations in the back near the dairy and some children giggling by a candy display.

Little by little, she relaxed. Yes, all she was going to have to do was stay in the front of the store. Out of the way. Hope and pray that the one man she wanted to avoid at all costs was working in the back storage room.

And if she was really lucky, Abby would decide that she didn’t need to spend much time talking to Walker and would want to leave. Soon.

Resigned to her fate, she picked up a metal gnome and looked at it. Turned it on one side then the other. Noticed the spout was from the top of the red hat. A handle arched out from his back. The gnome’s expression was of perpetual surprise, as she would be if she’d become a watering can, Deborah supposed.

Who would buy such a thing? she wondered.

And if it was purchased, what did the owner do with it? Trying out the handle, she knew she, for one, would feel terribly silly fetching water in such a thing. Though, well, it certainly did seem to be a trusty sort of object.

“See something you like?”

Jacob! Deborah almost dropped the gnome. “Nee.” When his eye followed the length of her arm, she felt obligated to explain herself. “I was just examining this . . . ah . . .”

“Gnome?”

“Jah. This gnome.”

“It’s a watering can.”

“Jah, I figured that out. It is mighty uncommon, you know.”

He walked around the other side of the counter; his steps slow and slightly stilted—as though he was coming to her side against his will. “Some people collect them.”

With effort, she met his gaze. “You’ve sold these?”

“We’ve sold quite a few. The gnomes with the green caps went first.” To her surprise, his voice had a thread of humor in it. Just as if he, too, thought the watering cans were silly.

“Ah.” She had no idea why he was being friendlier, but she was grateful for his change in attitude.

Jacob’s eyes lit up. “You know how my father is. People are used to his whimsical ideas.”

“Yes.” She flashed a smile. “Yes, I suppose so.” When he continued to stare, she cleared her throat. “I’m only in here to wait for Abby. She had to talk to Walker about something.”

His face became a blank wall all over again. “Oh. Sure.”

If she didn’t know better, Frannie would have guessed that Jacob was disappointed by her statement.

But she did know better. Never would she forget the anger that had emanated from him at their last meeting. “We’ll be gone soon.” She raised her chin. “I’m sure of that.”

“Gut.” He looked like he was ready to turn away, but for some reason he didn’t. Maybe he, too, was struck by the connection that was felt between them. Even if it was a prickly, painful one.

Feeling like she had nothing else to lose, she asked the question that had been wedged between them like a pebble in a shoe. “Jacob, why do you hate me so much?”

The skin around his lips tightened. “I never said I did.”

“You might not have said it, but I know you felt that way. I couldn’t help but notice. Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

She was tired of p-ssyfooting around. “But? . . .”

He sighed. “Look, just because I don’t hate you, it doesn’t mean I want to think about Perry. Or everything he did to us. To all of us.”

He turned away then, leaving her to stew about their conversation. And to remember once again the sweet, buttery feeling that she’d used to feel every time their paths had crossed.

To remember the way Perry had once been friends with everyone, and how hurt she’d felt when he pulled away and began his dark descent. And how much she still missed him.

Now there was no chance of patching things up between them. No chance that Perry would redirect his life and come back to their family.

When he’d changed, her life had changed, too. And quite honestly, she hadn’t been all that happy about the transformations. Fact was, she’d resented Perry for making their parents worried and depressed.

For making members of the community mad.

For the guilt she felt because there hadn’t been anything she could do to make things better. For making her be afraid that everything she had always taken for granted could be taken away in an instant.

And now she realized that she wasn’t the only one who had felt that way. Not at all.

Quietly, she set the gnome down, then walked out the front door. Took a seat in one of the white rocking chairs that lined the front of the store.

Abby was just going to have to come look for her. Because it was evident that she couldn’t be inside with Jacob for another minute.

Frannie, it is a nice surprise to see you here,” Micah said as they walked side by side to bring one of the horses into the barn. “I’d practically stopped hoping you would visit me.”

“I’ve been here before, Micah.”

“You’ve come with your daed to attend church,” he corrected. “You’ve never come over just to visit me. I would have remembered.”

As always, his kind way of speaking was interspersed by thinly veiled criticisms. “You know I don’t have a lot of spare time. The inn is a busy place.”

“That is true. The inn is busy. And you have no help.”

She flushed. Once again it was what he didn’t say that hurt. He didn’t mention that she’d been injured. Or that while the inn kept her busy, the fact that she had guests at all was a blessing.

“But though I’ve been busy, I’ve also been remiss,” she said, giving him what he wanted. “I’m sorry. You’ve been a good friend to me. Always.”

The wrinkle between his brows eased. “You don’t need to apologize for anything, Frannie.”

Easily, Micah hopped over the fence, then turned and opened the gate for her to walk through. She blinked, realizing she was finally seeing him in his element. Here, he was easy and relaxed, far more so than when he called on her.

The land was made for him, and he was obviously meant to spend his days farming and working on it.

“Not too cold today,” she murmured.

“I’m glad of it,” he replied as he wrapped an arm around a horse’s neck, patting her gently.

The horse stood still, seeming to enjoy his tender attentions, then with what looked like the gentlest of coaxing, Micah pulled on the horse’s bridle and started walking back through the field.

“What’s her name?”

“Belle.” He chuckled. “It’s quite a name, ain’t so? I didn’t name her, though.” Idly running a hand down the horse’s mane, he looked at Frannie. “Perhaps one day soon I’ll hitch her up and take you for a ride. She’s a gut buggy horse.”

This was it. She needed to say something. Before she lost her nerve, she spoke in a rush. “Micah, I came here to tell you that I have fallen in love with Luke. That is, Detective Reynolds.”

He paused for the briefest of seconds. “You mean the Englischer.”

“Jah.”

“Do you two even have a future together? I thought he left.”

“I care for him enough to wait to see if he’ll come back.” Privately, she resolved to even go visit Luke in Cincinnati, if that’s what it took.

“You don’t want to try to make things work between us?”

“No. I don’t.” Frannie looked down at her feet, embarrassed because she knew no words could repair the damage that had been done. She’d hurt Micah by loving someone else.

“So you fancy the police detective now.”

Stung by the bitter tone, and by the way he’d emphasized now, her chin popped up. “You make it sound like I’ve always got my eye on someone new.”

“Don’t you? First me, then Perry. Now the Englischer.”

“I’m not like that. I’m not flighty.”

“I didn’t call you flighty.” His voice was noticeably cooler. “Only pointing out that your attentions have turned. Yet again.”

As they walked through the ankle-high grass toward the barn, Belle easily clopping along by Micah’s side, Frannie did her best to push her feelings to one side and concentrate on Micah’s.

But it wasn’t an easy thing to do, because it seemed like he had deliberately misunderstood what she was saying.

But her relationship with Luke hadn’t occurred the way he was describing it, of course. Not the simple way he was describing it, anyway. Though she shouldn’t have been surprised, she was still hurt by the way he was turning the tables on her. She’d known telling him that she didn’t return his feelings would be difficult to do. And yet she’d still gone to his house to tell him face-to-face.

As best as she could, she grabbed hold of her pride as she watched him open the gate, guide Belle through it, then close it again.

When they started walking along the path to the barn, she forced herself to speak. “Micah, I came over here to tell you that I hope we can still be friends.”

The three of them stopped at the front of the barn door. “Is that what you want now?” he asked derisively. “To be friends with me?”

All she really knew was that she wanted to end the conversation. “Can we still be friends?”

Pale eyes scanned her from top to bottom. For a split second, she saw pain appear in his gaze, followed by unwanted resignation.

Then he blinked and his face became expressionless. “Perhaps. Perhaps one day, Frannie.” Squaring his shoulders, he looked at her evenly. “I will not wait for you any longer. I am done waiting.”

“I understand.” She was relieved, actually. She wouldn’t feel so guilty if she knew he was happy with someone else.

“All right, then. I think it is best if you go now.”

She felt his deflection as strongly as if he’d pushed her away. Which wasn’t fair, of course. The man had his pride and he was trying hard to keep it.

She could understand that.

“Goodbye, Micah,” she said softly before turning and walking the short distance to her buggy. By the time she’d untied her horse from the post, she saw that Micah was gone.