The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou

Chapter 27




“Back when we were in school, Perry would read a whole book in a day. He was a lot smarter than most gave him credit for. It’s a real shame he made so many dumb choices.”

BETH BYLER




Still shaken by her conversation with Micah, Frannie stopped by Beth’s house on her way home. She hoped to relax for a few hours away from the inn, but Beth had asked if they could spend the time at the inn instead.

An hour later, Beth showed up with a basket of sewing projects, and Lydia Plank.

“As soon as you told me about Micah, I decided reinforcements were in order,” Beth said.

“I hope you don’t mind?” Lydia asked.

“Definitely not,” Frannie said with a smile. “The more the merrier.”

Pulling out a pretty tin from her basket, Beth said, “I’ve got both peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.”

Frannie winked at Lydia. “You’ve been baking, Beth?”

“Definitely not! My mamm made these this morning. Today was one of her better days.”

“Praise God,” Frannie said with a smile. “Those cookies look wunderbaar! I’ll brew some coffee.”

Soon she, Lydia, and Beth were sitting and eating cookies, moping and pretending to sew. Finally, Frannie looked at her two best friends and grimaced. “We’re quite a sight, aren’t we? All we’re doing is getting fat and creating frown lines.”

“Not too fat. I’ve only eaten three cookies,” Lydia said.

“Five. You’ve eaten five,” Beth countered.

Lydia frowned. “Truly?”

“I’m sure,” Beth replied. “I know because I’ve only picked up a new cookie when you have.”

Lydia slumped. “Next time, don’t count cookies.”

“Don’t feel bad. I would’ve eaten more if you two hadn’t been here,” Frannie admitted.

“I ate two before I saw you both,” Beth confessed. “They’re good. And no matter what people say, chocolate does help make you feel better.”

“I’m not about to argue with that.” Frannie sewed a perfect line, then continued. “If we’ve been in worse moods, I’m not sure when.” Afraid to talk about what was really on her mind, she said, “There has been much going on lately. Perhaps we’re all exhausted.”

“There has been a lot going on,” Lydia said around yet another bite of cookie. “Walker and I can’t seem to figure out what we are going to do with the rest of our lives . . . and my mamm is pressuring me to figure it out quick.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Mothers.”

Frannie felt a momentary pinch in her heart—the same thing that always happened whenever she contemplated how much she missed her own mother. “At least you have a man in your life, Lydia.”

“Frannie, you and I might as well admit what has us so shaken up,” Beth said. “We’re grumpy because we’re brokenhearted over two men we shouldn’t have ever thought twice about.” She picked up another cookie, stared at it, and then set it back on the plate. Curving her arms about her stomach, she said, “I never should have eaten so many. Do you two feel sick?”

“Only a little,” Lydia admitted.

“I don’t,” Frannie said. “At least, not yet.” She grabbed another cookie. Maybe that’s what she should be doing—eating cookies until she only thought about a squeamish stomach . . . not a broken heart. It would hurt far less.

Beth picked up a piece of lint from her fabric. “We are smart girls. We should have known better than to get involved with men we have nothing in common with. No good could have come from it. But maybe we were just tired of all the same prospects . . . Is that what happened with you, Lydia?”

“I don’t think so.” After a moment, she said quietly, “It just happened that one day I knew Walker was the man who could make me happy.”

Lydia made love sound so easy, Frannie thought. But it wasn’t easy at all. After all, Micah should have been the perfect man for her—they were part of the same community, and had many of the same values.

But instead of making her feel happy and secure, Micah had only made her feel doubtful and troubled. And sometimes . . . even annoyed!

Now, Luke, on the other hand, he did make her feel excited and happy. But he was a policeman! Furthermore, he left for Cincinnati without even telling her a final goodbye!

How could something so wrong feel so right? It made no sense. How could falling in love be the wrong choice? She bit the inside of her cheek to distract herself from the burning ache in her chest.

“I tried to fall in love with Micah,” Frannie admitted over the lump in her throat. “But I just couldn’t do it.”

Beth nibbled her bottom lip. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and Frannie suspected she harbored a painful heartache of her own.

Diplomatically, Beth said, “Micah is a good man. That is true. But he wasn’t ever the man for you.”

“I know.” Heaven knew she had tried hard to make it work. But it hadn’t been enough. And once she met Luke, she knew it would have never been enough.

She hadn’t loved Micah.

But she did love Luke—with all her aching heart.

“Only the Lord knows.” Lydia shrugged. “Perhaps one day he’ll see fit to tell us why.”

Beth pulled the tin closer, then picked up another cookie. “It’s probably best they’re gone from here. I mean, it’s best Chris left and that I have no way to get in touch with him ever again.” She shoved the cookie into her mouth and chewed for all it was worth.

“I suppose so,” Frannie reluctantly agreed. Because, well, what else could she say? Beth was right. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. Where was Beth’s happy ending?

Where was hers?

And here, Lydia wasn’t all that happy, either.

Maybe, she reflected, happy endings didn’t exist. Maybe happy endings were what you made of the pieces left behind, like some sort of crazy quilt.

She grabbed a cookie, popped the whole thing into her mouth, and let the peanut butter melt on her tongue. After a long moment, she said, “Girls, do you think one day we’ll look back at all this and laugh? No doubt we’ll wonder why we ate ourselves silly!”

“I’ll know tonight when I have a stomach ache,” Lydia said darkly.

Beth, on the other hand, didn’t look as if she’d ever look back on her feelings and feel like laughing. No, at the moment, Beth looked only like she wanted to cry. “I told my mamm I don’t understand why the Lord brought me and Chris together in the first place, if we were never meant to be.”

“What did she say?”

Beth slumped. “She said she’d given up wondering why God made things happen. And then of course I felt terribly guilty for bothering her with my selfish problems.”

“Maybe your mamm liked being bothered,” Lydia ventured as she picked back up her sewing. “I’ve always thought your mother liked being involved in your life.”

“She does. I try to protect her by telling her that I’m always fine. But sometimes we both know I’m not.”

Tentatively, Frannie said, “And how do you feel when your mamm tries to protect you and not tell you when she’s feeling poorly?”

Beth ran her finger over a row of stitches. “I do not like it much.” She glanced up and gave a watery smile. “When did you become so wise, Frannie Eicher?”

She grinned and held up a cookie. “It must be the chocolate.” She brushed away crumbs and said, “Sometimes it’s impossible to pretend you’re not upset. Sometimes, it’s more important to share your feelings with friends.”

She bit into the cookie. When the yummy combination of peanut butter and chocolate settled on her tongue, she smiled in bliss. “These are the best cookies ever.”

“I agree,” Lydia said. “They are truly wunderbaar.”

Beth’s expression lit up. “I’ll tell Mamm that!”

Frannie laughed. It helped ease the hollowness in her chest. She glanced out the window and wondered where Luke was. What he was doing. Then she shook her head. She had no right to be thinking such things.

After a few moments, Beth said, “Frannie, do you think we’ll ever truly know what happened with Perry?”

“We might find out, but I doubt we’ll ever understand why he got mixed up with so many dangerous people.” He’d become such a lost soul—looking to find his way. Only he’d looked in all the wrong places.

“I’m wondering if those men who hurt Chris had anything to do with Perry’s death.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.” Thinking about those sunglasses, Frannie figured Chris’s investigation had a lot to do with Perry. “Drug dealers in Marion.” Frannie shivered. “I never thought I’d see the day. That is one bit of news I would have been happy to never know.”

“I agree.” Shifting, Beth wiped her hands, then picked up her needle and thread and focused her attention once again on the sheet she was mending.

Obviously hoping to lighten things up, Lydia said, “Maybe you should think about finding another man?”

Beth stuck her tongue out at Lydia.

Feeling mischievous, Frannie said, “Micah is available now.”

Beth raised two hands in mock horror and smiled wide. “No, but danke. I’m afraid he’d drive me crazy in a week.”

Frannie laughed. “Maybe not that long. You have less in common with him than I do.”

Beth grinned, then little by little her smile faded. “Oh, Frannie, I am just so sad . . . sad, and with a stomachache, too. Ach.” Carefully, she clipped her thread, then neatly folded the sheet she’d been mending and put the needle and spool of white thread away. “I think I’m going to head on home now.”

“But it’s only two o’clock,” Lydia protested.

“I’m watching a couple’s children tonight.”

Frannie shared a knowing look with Lydia. “You’re now babysitting in the evening, too, Beth? You need some time for yourself.”

“No I don’t,” she said quickly. “That is what I absolutely don’t need. If I think too much, I’ll hurt too much.”

As Lydia frowned, Frannie nodded. She knew the feeling well.

Lydia stayed a little bit longer, then soon left, too. She had a date with Walker.

When she was alone again, Frannie sat in silence sewing for at least an hour, with Beth’s last comment ringing in her ears. She privately felt the same way as Beth, though wasn’t brave enough to admit it. At the moment, she was sad that only she and Jack were in the house. She ached for an inn full of people so she wouldn’t have time to be alone with her thoughts.

She yawned, and let her eyes drift shut. Her insomnia had returned, and she hadn’t been sleeping well at all lately. She supposed it was time to accept that she was now going to sleep whenever her body demanded it—even if it was in the middle of the afternoon.

She’d just drifted off into that first layer of rest when there was a pounding at the door. She sat upright with a start, but now knew enough to wait patiently for Jack to open the door first.

He came down the steps and advanced toward the front door.

She was shaking out the skirt of her dress when she noticed that Jack hadn’t checked the safety of his gun. Instead, he was unlocking the door and opening it with a broad smile. Just like he was a doorman!

“How are you doing, Luke?” he asked.

Luke? Was she dreaming?

She peered around the corner. It wasn’t a dream at all. Luke Reynolds stood just inside the doorway, murmuring something to Jack when he looked in her direction and paused.

It was as if all time stopped as they stared at each other, neither blinking.

Her heart forgot its pain and was now beating a rapid rhythm that sent her pulse pounding. She didn’t know whether to laugh with joy at seeing him—or cry with the knowledge that she would have to say goodbye. Again.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Hey, Frannie.”

“Luke.” She didn’t even try to be formal enough to say Detective. Her throat had gone dry as she looked at him with foreboding. “Has . . . has something happened with the case?”

He smiled slowly. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

Frannie darted a look in Jack’s direction. But instead of taking out a pad of paper or peppering Luke with questions, he was grabbing his coat off the hook by the door.

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to take off for a little while, to, ah, get some air.” He handed Luke a card. “Call me when you are ready to leave, and I’ll come back.”

Frannie stared after Jack in confusion. “Well, that was mighty strange. He’s never done that before.”

“I guess he thought you were in good hands?”

She caught the flirty tone in his voice and wondered at it. “So I suppose you want to talk to me alone? Want some coffee?”

“I do.” He followed her to the kitchen, and sat at the table and watched her pour water into the old percolator just like it was part of their daily routine. She really hoped he couldn’t see her hand shaking.

“Luke, I thought we wouldn’t see each other again.” She really was proud of the way she was keeping her voice even.

Looking sheepish, he said, “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Yet,” she said, “here you are.”

“Yes. Here I am.”

As she carefully measured out coffee, and wondered why he was here, he said, “Did I ever tell you about Renee?”

Her hand shook, spilling coffee grounds everywhere. “Nee.” She grabbed a sponge.

“Renee was a woman I was seeing off and on before I got here. We kind of had a ‘thing’, an understanding, between us.”

She squeezed the sponge extra hard. “I see.” So that was why he had returned! To tell her in person about his girlfriend. She now wanted to throw the sponge at his head. There were some things she didn’t need to know.

There was a hint of humor in his voice as he said, “No . . . I don’t think you do see. With Renee and me, when we were together, we got along fine. We never argued. But when we were apart, I hardly ever thought about her.” He laughed softly. “I felt kind of bad about that until I realized she felt the same way.”

Carefully, she wiped the coffee grounds off the counter, closed the lid, and put the percolator on the burner.

But still couldn’t summon the courage to face him. Absently, she noticed that her heart had begun to ache again.

“Now you,” he said softly, “on the other hand . . . I can’t help but think about you.”

She gripped the edges of her black apron tightly and stared at the coffeepot. “You sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“I was kind of disturbed about it, if you want to know the truth. And I tried to blame my thoughts of you on the case.” He paused. “But it wasn’t the case that had me thinking about you. It was you.”

Did that even make sense? She sort of thought it did. Her lungs squeezed tight. “What did you think about? That is, when you thought about me?” Mentally, she braced herself for Luke to tell her the many reasons she wasn’t right for him. All the reasons she knew she wasn’t right for him.

“Us.”

“You said we needed to stay apart.”

“I was wrong. I was completely, utterly wrong.”

She exhaled and blinked. Then, when the silence between them lengthened, Frannie found herself turning and staring at him in wonder.

His eyes were fixed on her and shining. Showing trust and happiness and a sureness. Yet, there was also a mischief lurking in their depths. That same look the boys used to have back in fifth grade when they pulled braids and ran away.

Bracing her hands on the table, she drew in a shaky breath. “Luke, what are you saying?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I’m trying to say that I’ve fallen in love with you, Frannie.”

“You have?” Tears welled in her eyes.

“I have.” Slowly, he rose, and then bent down onto one knee.

“Luke?”

“Frannie, I love you, and I hope one day you will love me, too.”

Happiness coursed through her like millions of tiny white lights, illuminating her heart. This was why she’d never been able to love Micah.

This was why she’d been sad for Perry’s death but not heartbroken for their parting.

She’d never felt this powerful pull of rightness toward another person.

His boyish look returned, tenfold. “Francis, are you ever going to answer me?”

“I’m trying to get my mind around what you are saying.”

“It’s not too hard to understand. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

She knelt down next to him, looking at him eye to eye. “But what about your job? And my inn?” And everything else, too, she wanted to scream. She wanted to believe that love was easy, but she knew it was not. She’d learned that with Micah. Your heart didn’t always do what your head needed it to.

He sighed as he swiped a tear from her cheek. “Only you would want things organized when I’m trying to tell you I love you.”

“Luke,” she began, then abruptly stopped talking. What was she doing? Luke was the man she wanted.

There was nothing more to say! Suddenly something she thought was so wrong felt very right. But there were still issues—problems . . .

He chuckled, showing he wasn’t upset. On the contrary, he looked rather amused. He took her hands in his. “So, I started thinking that maybe I don’t have to work in the city any longer.”

“What would you do?”

“I thought I’d talk to Mose. Maybe work with him, if he wants help.”

After all the waiting and worrying, everything was happening so fast! “You’d do that? You’d work for Mose?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll go into private practice. I inherited some money from my parents years ago, and invested it well. As long as I don’t do anything too crazy, I don’t need much as far as paychecks.”

The idea of not worrying about an income was foreign to her. But so was what he was suggesting. “But what about us?”

“I want to date you.”

“What?” She hopped up.

“You know what I mean . . . right?” He swallowed as he struggled to his feet. “I want to court you.” Looking resolved, he said, “Seriously. I mean . . . I want to court you seriously.”

“But I’m Amish!”

“Are you? Mose gave me some information about being Amish. He said you don’t get baptized and join the church until you’re ready to marry.” He looked at her searchingly. “Frannie, have you joined the church already? You didn’t, did you?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been waiting for the right time.” Actually, she’d been searching for a reason to stop waiting.

“Frannie, I can’t be Amish. But I don’t mind a wife who embraces a lot of the ways she was brought up. I’m willing to live in your bed-and-breakfast, learn to adjust my way of life to yours.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d do just about anything for you, Frannie. I love you.”

He’d said it again. Love.

She leaned closer to him. Dared to believe. “Luke, you truly love me?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” He drew her hands to his chest.

She felt his heart beating under her palm and wondered if it had been aching like hers had. “What if I told you that I loved you, too?”

He smiled as he tugged her closer, then linked his hands around her waist. “Then I would probably tell you that I’m the happiest man in the world right now.”

She couldn’t help but loop her hands around his neck. “I must warn you, I don’t sleep.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep at night. I worry too much.”

But instead of being worried by her proclamation, he chuckled. “Frannie Eicher, you need to get married quickly. Because I happen to know that if you weren’t sleeping alone, you’d sleep like a baby.”

She felt her cheeks heat at that talk. But she wondered if he was right. “What should we do now? Go talk to my daed?”

“Frannie, you have a lot to learn,” he chided as he leaned closer. “When a man says he loves a woman—and she says she loves him too—they kiss, Frannie.”

Their lips were only inches apart. “And then what?”

“And then he holds her close,” he murmured after a very lengthy kiss. “And then he holds her close and never lets her go.”

The last coherent thing Frannie remembered thinking . . . was that Luke was full of very good ideas.