Finding Mercy

  “The way I hear it from Hannah and Ella, I waited for you the first time. You know what I mean, played a little hard to get. But now that past has been so difficult for me to get back.”

  “Ray-Lynn, I’ve been real patient and will wait longer if you want me to. We don’t have to do things the same way as before, but…”

  “The same way as before…”

  “Well, yeah, I mean, we both had keys to each other’s places and stayed the night sometimes, after we fell in love, that is.”

  “Jack Freeman, I believe that is one of the best, clearest things you have ever said to me. I can’t thank you enough for giving me the support, the space, and the time to fall in love with you all over again.”

  “Then how about not only being in love again but maybe making love again?”

  “Maybe sounds a bit wishy-washy to me, especially coming from you. I really think your take-charge attitude should come into play here,” she said, and punched his chest. Ray-Lynn felt so high she could soar right off this hill. She was starting to get her old self back, she was sure of it, the teasing, even a bit of temper. It was so lovely here, and this man was so precious. “The sky’s the limit,” she said with a sweep of her arm toward the clouds.

  Jack stretched out on the blanket and pulled her tight against him, then under him, though he kept his weight off her. Then he shattered the remnants of her poise with a moving, probing, devouring kiss. She clung to him, giving back as good as she got, so grateful for his touch and love. But one thing still gnawed at her: he’d mentioned making love but not a future.

  They came up for air, breathing hard together. “Let’s finish this food fast—before it gets any colder and I get any hotter,” he said, sitting up and pulling her up too. He reached for their glasses, then froze.

  “What is it?” she asked, trying to see around him. “Not a snake?”

  He kept staring at their wineglasses in the matted grass, then reached for something just beyond their goblets.

  “What is it?” she repeated as he pulled a round, slightly concave black plastic item from the grass.

  “You ever see this before?” he countered, studying it closely.

  “No. Is it a cap that fell off the salad dressing or something?”

  “Bushnel, it says, but it’s too big to have come off my binocs. I’ll bet it covered a telescope lens.”

  “Wow, that would give a great view of the valley! You’re frowning. What’s the problem?” She could tell he had shifted back to sheriff mode.

  “Hopefully, nothing. But as soon as we eat and hike down to where we left my car, we’re gonna have to stop by the Lantzes for a sec. Then I plan on breaking the law, speeding to get to your place. You’re sure Hannah’s gone home, and we can have your house to ourselves?”

  “Absolutely—she moved home until the wedding. Jack, I understand about your job, really. What’s with that telescope lens cover?”

  “Not sure, but I’m gonna find out.”

  * * *

  It was barely dark when a knock sounded on the front door of the farmhouse. Coming up the stairs from the cool basement where she was storing the loaves of bread she’d made for the wedding, Ella heard the sharp rap-rap-rap. No one used the front door, so it worried her. She quickened her steps through the kitchen and dining room and into the living room, where Daad peered out the window, then headed for the door.

  “Ach, bad news?” she heard him mutter to himself, and then she saw why he’d said that.

  Deputy Sheriff Winston Hayes, whom her father must not recognize, stood hat in hand on their front porch. Did the deputy intend to check that she had put the safety triangle on her buggy as she’d promised? She saw his cruiser sitting partway down the lane.

  “Good evening, Mr. Lantz,” he said. “I’m Winston Hayes, the sheriff’s new deputy. I know your daughter—hello, Miss Ella—was harassed today, and I just wanted to be sure the guy who parked on the road and drove away earlier wasn’t the same one. I would have stopped then, but I was on another call.”

  “Ella?” Daad said, as he went out onto the porch, so she did too. It was very unlike her father not to invite someone in, but when it came to law enforcement around here, only Sheriff Freeman had passed muster with the Amish, and that had taken years.

  “No, not the same man at all, but thank you for keeping an eye on things,” she told Deputy Hayes. “I realize you’re new or you would know him. That was the FBI agent who helped the sheriff solve the graveyard murders.”

  “Oh, wow, glad I didn’t jump him,” he said with a sudden smile that lit his handsome face. “I saw he didn’t have a black van, but the fact he didn’t drive right up to your place bothered me. Just trying to be helpful. The sheriff and I are pledged to serve and protect, and we realize you’ve all been kind and brave enough to take on an extra responsibility.”

  She assumed he meant Andrew. But Daad said nothing, so neither did she. At least the sheriff trusted his new man enough to tell him to keep a special eye out for them here because of their guest.

  “Glad you’re all doing okay,” Deputy Hayes said in the awkward silence. “By the way, the sheriff had me check out the site where you were accosted. I found the oyster-shell grit on the ground you told him about. You didn’t mention it to me.”

  He stared at her for a moment, so she assumed she was being subtly scolded. “But no sign of your safety triangle anywhere along the road. So anyway,” he went on, pointing off into the distance, “I see there’s a phone shanty down on the road, so you just call nine-one-one if anything else comes up and that will get us day or night.”

  As Abel came to the door and looked out, Deputy Hayes’s head jerked around, then turned sharply away. Without another question, the deputy stepped back, put his hat on his head, turned and walked off the porch.

  “I think,” she told Daad and Abel, “the sheriff is keeping a better eye on us than we realized, since we have our guest here. That makes me feel a bit better for us—safer.”

  Yet she shuddered as she followed Daad back into the house.

  8

  ELLA DID HER best thinking when she was working, so she was banging around in the big kitchen after dark that night, making a double batch of Lavender Surprise Muffins. The recipe called for one-and-a-half cups of lavender, but the surprise was lemon curd.

  Her parents were working a jigsaw puzzle in the living room, and the boys were both upstairs. Andrew was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, just enjoying the peace and quiet, he’d said. Truth be told, he was probably worrying and watching the road.

  She would like to be with him, but these muffins were one of her contributions to Seth and Hannah’s wedding feast just two days away. For the Eshes to feed almost two hundred people took some doing, and the groom’s family provided the smaller, evening meal. Daad had prepared ten jars of his special honey with the comb in it. Ella had already made and frozen six loaves of Cherry Lavender Nut Bread and had stored dozens of these muffins. But she was making extras so that Andrew could taste something with her lavender in it for breakfast tomorrow. At least Ella’s other preparations were pretty much under control; namely, her attendant’s dress was made and presents purchased. Strange, though, how Andrew’s arrival had distracted her a bit from the wedding, and a family one at that.

  Also, Ella kept going over in her mind what the sheriff had said about finding the telescope lens cover he’d shown her, Daad and Andrew. It had been found on one of the spots where the family had looked through Grossdaad’s telescope at the stars years ago, though that clean lens cover could not have been that old. Anyone could stargaze from that lofty spot. The trouble was, they could spy on her family and Andrew too.

  The sheriff had said he’d seen Linc Armstrong leaving their property and he’d asked why he was here. He had mentioned that Armstrong had suggested to Gerald Branin that this Amish community would be a good place for Andrew to stay for a while.

  Ella startled when she saw headlights slash across
the lawn outside the window over the sink. It was a small car that looked ghostly white in the dark. Oh—it might be the vehicle Connie Lee, the spa lady, drove.

  Mamm and Daad hurried into the kitchen, and Mamm peered out the window. Ella told them, “I think it’s the mother of the man who was in the car accident, the one who wants to buy lavender products for their family’s new spa.” She heard the front door slam, Andrew’s voice in the living room, then Aaron’s and Abel’s. Her brothers might have come downstairs to see a sports car up close, but Andrew had probably come in to avoid being seen. He’d disappeared off the hill fast enough on Connie Lee’s first visit.

  With Daad behind her, Ella went to the back door. It was Mrs. Lee, coming up to the back porch steps.

  “Would you like to come in?” Ella asked, hoping the woman didn’t still have a little gun in her purse. “I hope your son is doing better.”

  She came in, and Ella introduced her parents. The front door banged again, and she heard Abel and Aaron’s voices outside, but not Andrew’s. “I hope you don’t mind if my brothers look at your car,” Ella added.

  “Of course not. Yes, Sam’s doing as well as can be expected with two broken legs and some spinal injuries. Thank God, he isn’t paralyzed.”

  “Ya, thank God,” her father put in.

  “Please, you come sit in the living room, and I’ll serve some pie,” Mamm said.

  “Oh, no, thanks. As someone who owns a spa, I must watch my figure, and Amish food can be deadly for waistlines. I just came to talk to Ella about placing an order for lavender products, so sitting here will be fine.” She pulled a chair out for herself at the kitchen table. Hadn’t she read somewhere, Ella thought, that the Chinese were polite and proper in social situations? Anyway, this woman seemed all-American, like some of the tourists in town who just pushed their way in.

  Her parents went back into the living room, and Ella sat kitty-corner at the table from her guest, who pulled a list from her purse, one that looked made from snakeskin.

  “I’ve drawn up a wish list I’d like you to go over,” Mrs. Lee said. “I think it will go a long way with our spa guests to use local Amish products. In addition, I’d be happy to stock your things in the gift shop we’ll have on the premises. I especially wanted to ask you about lavender spritzers, since they use alcohol for the coolness.”

  “Rubbing alcohol like for a sore muscle massage?”

  Mrs. Lee’s sleek eyebrows shot up. “No. Drinking alcohol—vodka, to be exact. You’d need to stock vodka, infuse it with lavender essence.”

  “I must admit, spritzers and body candles are new to me, Mrs. Lee. I can ask the bishop about the vodka since it’s kind of for medicinal purposes, like dandelion wine, only not drunk this time.”

  For once, the woman seemed at a loss for words. Finally, she said, “Please call me Connie, Ella. Well, this is going to be an interesting partnership and a big learning experience for both of us. I’ve been reading up on lavender while just sitting around by Sam’s bed. What an interesting history, way back to King Tut’s tomb, Cleopatra’s charms and Roman warfare—sprinkled in the streets to cover the smell of blood, no less.”

  “It isn’t in the Bible, but legend says that Adam and Eve took lavender with them when they were banished from the Garden of Eden.”

  “Folklore, I’m sure, but lavender’s aromatic and medicinal properties—useful to help with depression, too, I read—is all good. Here, I’ll leave you with this monthly list of what we’ll need and let you decide what you would set for prices, then we’ll talk again. I’m driving back to Cleveland tonight, back and forth to the hospital there—the Cleveland Clinic is really not a clinic at all, too big, but names can be deceptive. Oh, here, I wanted to mention one more thing.”

  From the depths of her purse, she drew out not only her car keys but a small package wrapped in silver paper and tied with shiny crimson cording. Ella recognized it at once as the same material that had spilled all over the road at the scene of Sam Lee’s accident.

  “That’s a very pretty package,” she observed as Connie extended it to her.

  “It’s empty, because I know you won’t take gifts, but I just wanted you to see how important packaging is and how your products will be presented. Spa products in our line all have this signature wrap. We import this red cord and could supply you with yours. Appearances are sometimes more alluring than what’s really inside, you know.”

  She stood and tugged at the long sleeves of the bright pink blouse she wore under a white leather jacket. “Well,” she went on when Ella stood too but said nothing else, “I’d better give your brothers an inside look at my car before I go. I take it your father’s not interested. How about that cousin of yours who helped save our Sam? Is he still here? I’d love to take him for a ride. I swear, I’d give him the car if he weren’t Amish, for what he did for Sam, but I got your message that you don’t take gifts for good deeds.”

  Ella followed Connie Lee outside. Abel and Aaron were looking over every inch of the car. Connie said to them, “Get your shy cousin Andrew out here too, and I’ll let you all sit behind the wheel!”

  “Oh, he’s busy with something,” Aaron put in, not sounding a bit convincing. There it was again, Ella thought: it could be because the woman was grateful to Andrew, but her interest in him seemed a little too strong.

  * * *

  After Connie Lee let Aaron and Able sit behind the wheel, she got in her little car and drove away. Ella hurried back in the kitchen and went over the list. Talk about expanding her products line! She could hire several Amish women to help produce these products, including getting someone to make her own soap in her own shop, something she’d wanted to do for years.

  She covered her cooled muffins with plastic wrap, but before she could go looking for Andrew, she saw him walk past the kitchen window outside. She barely made him out since the window gave back her own reflection like a dark mirror. Had he been out there all the time, observing Connie from the dark? If he was worried about his safety, where was he going?

  She dimmed both kitchen kerosene lanterns so she could see out better, then went to open the storm door. The June night air was laced with the scent of lavender. Andrew had gone away from the house, and it appeared he was walking up the hill, without his crutch. Surely, he didn’t mean to continue weeding in the dark or climb clear up to the woodlot hill to look around. When the sheriff and Ray-Lynn had stopped to show them the lens cover, Andrew had closely questioned him about the lay of the land up there and had been warned about both the beehives and the sudden drop-offs.

  Ella went out after him, quietly closing both doors behind her. Realizing she didn’t have her bonnet on, she almost turned back, but instead, picked up her pace. She wanted to look for her grandfather’s old telescope in a wooden chest in the barn loft—at least, that’s where it used to be. She’d told the sheriff she’d let him know if it was a Bushnel brand or not. Maybe she could take Andrew with her, make Daad feel better about it because he’d told her not to go anywhere but to bed or the bathroom alone. Right now she was hardly alone with Andrew just ahead of her.

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed again he was barely limping, though he climbed the hill slowly. “Andrew!” she called as she hurried behind him. “You aren’t going higher just because of what the sheriff said about finding that lens cover, are you?”

  He turned and waited for her. “Not in the dark,” he said, sitting on the wide grassy strip between her mounded beds of English lavender. “I don’t need to stumble into bee colonies or sinkholes. I like to look at the stars, and the minimal light pollution out here makes the gazing great.”

  She could feel his eyes on her. Sitting down about three feet away from him and wrapping her arms around her bent knees, she said, “You were probably reminded about the stars when the sheriff asked about the telescope. I came out to check in the barn to see if our old family one is still there.”

  “You shouldn’t even go in there a
lone. But let’s do this first.”

  He flopped onto his back with his hands linked behind his head. Let’s do this first obviously meant look at the stars, not lie down together, but she lay back too. The grass was cool, the wind gentle and so sweet. She could hear him breathing hard, probably from his exertion due to climbing the hill. The sweeping, stunning black cup of sky lit by bright pinpoints kept her silent. But then she saw an arc of light skitter across the heavens above them.

  “Oh, look, a shooting star!” she cried, pointing.

  “No, that’s what I’ve been watching for. I had to estimate the time because I don’t have my wristwatch.”

  “Then what is that? I see now it’s a steady light, in a straight line. And it doesn’t twinkle.”

  “It’s a man-made satellite.”

  “Like people get TV from? I’ve heard of that.”

  “Yeah, a communications satellite. They go from east to west, and military ones go north to south. They do rotate, though, so their brightness can vary even if they don’t twinkle.”

  She felt awed. The hair on the back of her neck tingled. “You know all about that,” she whispered.

  He sighed. “Yeah, I do—used to. The industry changes pretty fast.”

  “The company you worked for—it made them or watched them?”

  “Both. Do you know what the game of golf is?”

  “Oh, ya, there’s a course off the road near Charm. Real pretty hills, lakes and little beaches, but kind of fake too, all trimmed and raked.”

  “The company I worked for started out making what are called GPS range finders for golf. The GPS stands for global positioning satellites. In this case, they sync—link up—with satellites in the sky to supply exact locations and distances to the little holes where the ball is supposed to go in.”

  “Wow! All that for a game to put a ball in a hole! But you’re not with the same company now?”