Abandon the Dark

Lainey would draw a second glance no matter where she was, he suspected. In conservative little Deer Run, it would no doubt be more like four or five glances.

The October breeze lifted her long mane of curls, blue-black as a crow’s wing in the sunshine, revealing beaded earrings that reached almost to her shoulders. Even from several yards away the deep blue of her eyes was startling against her pale skin. She looked...what? Exotic? Artsy? She’d fit in fine at the huge arts festival held over in State College every summer, but not in staid Deer Run.

Whatever. He could only hope Lainey would be able to cope with the tangle she was walking into. Either that, or that she’d have sense enough to get out.

“It’s a small hospital, isn’t it?” she said, nodding toward the redbrick building that sat at the top of the hill overlooking the town.

“Deer Run is a small community.” He fell into step with her as they walked toward the entrance.

“Is my great-aunt getting the care she needs here? I assume there’s a larger facility somewhere nearby.”

“The doctors would recommend a transfer to a larger care center if they thought it necessary.” He couldn’t help sounding a little stiff. If she intended to take this adversarial attitude into every encounter, it was going to be a long day.

They reached the portico at the front entrance, and Lainey turned to him with a cool smile. “Thank you for showing me the way. You don’t need to come in with me.”

Accept dismissal? He didn’t think so.

“That’s okay. I want to check on my favorite client.” He gave her the laid-back smile that usually disarmed people and stepped forward so that the automatic door swished open. He gestured. “After you.”

She hesitated, as if she’d like to argue, and then she swept inside, her momentum carrying her right past the pink ladies stationed at their welcome desk.

“Good morning, Jake.” Helen Blackwood patted her iron-gray curls in an automatic gesture, her cheeks as pink as her smock. “This must be little Lainey, come to see her great-aunt. You won’t remember me, my dear, but I knew you when you were a child. I’m Helen Blackwood.”

Lainey looked a bit nonplussed at this welcome, but she shook the hand Helen held out. “It’s nice to see you, Ms. Blackwood.”

“Helen, please, dear. After all, we’re old friends. Now, be sure you give your dear aunt a kiss for us. We’re all praying for her.”

“I...I will. Thank you,” Lainey added. She tried to pull her hand away, but Helen had her in a firm grip.

“My goodness, I remember how you children loved my gingersnaps—”

“We certainly did,” Jake interrupted, taking Lainey’s arm and turning her to the elevator. “I’m sure Lainey will look forward to catching up later. And you might let me know the next time you’re baking gingersnaps.” He propelled Lainey onto the elevator while Helen was still fluttering over his comment.

The door swept shut, and he punched the button for the second floor, grinning at Lainey. “See? I do come in handy.”

Her face relaxed in response. “Obviously the little old ladies adore you.”

He managed a look of mock hurt. “I’ll have you know that the Evans charm extends to females of all ages.”

The door opened before she could answer.

“Rebecca’s room is just down the hall. The next door on the right.”

Lainey stepped into the room ahead of him and stopped so abruptly he nearly walked into her. A look over her shoulder told him the reason. The room seemed full of people in Amish garb.

Easing her into the room, he nodded to those he knew. “Family,” he murmured in Lainey’s ear. “How is she today?” He focused on Katie Gaus, one of Rebecca’s many nieces, whose round face was made even rounder by her generous smile. The mother of a large family, Katie was comfortably middle-aged, her dress the dark purple color that seemed favored by Amish women her age. Katie had been the one to find Rebecca the day she fell.

“Not much change,” Katie said softly. She came to take Lainey’s hand. “Little Lainey, all grown up. It is gut to see you. Wilcom.”

“Thank you.” Lainey seemed to struggle to place her. “You’re Cousin Katie, right?”

“Ja, that’s so.” Katie smiled again, her gentle face warm. “I am a bit older and wider than you remember, ja?”

“You had a son about my age, didn’t you?” Lainey was showing more composure than Jake had expected at this horde of relatives. Maybe this was going to be all right.

“Ja, that would be Daniel. But komm. You are here for Aunt Rebecca, not for all of us.” Holding Lainey’s hand as if she were still a child, Katie led her toward the bed.

Jake stood back, watching. Now that he had a chance to look around, the room wasn’t as full as it had first appeared. In addition to Katie, three other women he recognized as relatives of Rebecca had apparently been sitting with her.

On the opposite side of the room was a small knot of men, their black coats and pants creating a dense spot in the bright room. Zebulon Stoltzfus, the oldest brother of Rebecca’s late husband, stood in front of three of his sons.

There was no doubt about who was in charge in that family—Zeb had always ruled his numerous progeny with an iron fist, and rumor had it that the bishop and ministers who shepherded the local Amish congregation had made more than one call on him. That usually meant the person visited had behaved in a manner that went counter to the Ordnung, the mutually agreed-upon rules by which the congregation lived. At the moment, Zeb looked like a man with a grievance, and Jake suspected he knew what that grievance was.

Lainey was bending over the hospital bed, drawing his attention. Her hair swung forward, hiding her face at the moment, but his thoughts were arrested by the tenderness in her movement as she took her great-aunt’s hand. She bent to kiss Rebecca’s cheek, murmuring something he couldn’t hear, and as she straightened he saw the tears that streaked her face. Jake had the uncomfortable feeling that all his preconceptions had just been upended.

He shook off the wave of empathy. Even if Lainey had genuine feeling for her aunt, that still didn’t mean that she was capable of making life-or-death decisions for her.

Zeb stalked over to him, his face set in a frown that would likely have even his grown sons quaking in their shoes. “Well? What are you going to do?”

Jake managed to keep from glaring back. It was no part of his duty to Rebecca to alienate her relatives if he could help it. “Lainey Colton is Rebecca’s choice to take change of her affairs.” He kept his voice even.

Zeb flung out a hand toward the women. “The Englisch woman is unsuitable. There is too much at stake.”

“She is Rebecca’s great-niece.” Jake’s jaw tightened. “And it’s Rebecca’s business, not yours.”

Obviously Lainey had heard him. She straightened with a toss of her head that sent her black hair flowing back over her shoulders.

“What is he talking about? What is at stake, and why am I unsuitable?”

Jake had hoped he’d be able to avoid an outright confrontation. Once again in this situation, he’d been wrong.

CHAPTER TWO

LAINEY FROWNED AT JAKE, waiting for an answer. When it didn’t come fast enough to suit her, she shifted her glare to the other man.

His narrow face was tight with an emotion she couldn’t immediately identify—disdain, maybe. Vague memory stirred. An Amish man talking to Aunt Rebecca, looking at the ten-year-old she’d been with just that expression.

“Well?” She wasn’t going to start off by letting herself be intimidated. “What did you mean?”

“I’m sure Zeb didn’t...” Jake began, but the older man’s voice cut across his.

“Chust what I say. You are not suitable to have charge of my brother’s wife. You are not Amish. Englischer.” He clamped his thin lips together on the word.

Katie intervened, coming quickly to join them. “Onkel Zeb, you must remember that this was Rebecca’s decision. It’s not Lainey’s fault.”

Not her fault, Lainey felt the words echo in her mind. Freely translated, that must be that Katie agreed with him but objected to his methods.

They couldn’t be any more convinced than she was that this entire situation was beyond her. Still, she wouldn’t give Zeb Stoltzfus the satisfaction of seeing her doubts. She remembered him faintly now—Uncle Isaac’s brother, and as sour as Isaac had been sweet, from what she remembered.

“Aunt Rebecca apparently thought I was capable enough.” She stated the obvious. “That’s why I’m here.”

Zeb seemed to be gritting his teeth. He turned to Jake, glowering. “You are responsible for this mess. I told Rebecca she didn’t need a lawyer to handle things for her, but she wouldn’t listen. And now see what has happened.”

“You can’t...” Lainey began, but Jake held up his hands to both of them. There was enough command in the gesture to enforce an uneasy silence in the room, broken only by the rhythmic hum of a machine by Aunt Rebecca’s bed.

“Enough.” Jake looked equally annoyed with both of them. “Rebecca’s hospital room is no place to have this discussion.”

“That’s right.” Katie tugged Lainey’s arm. “What would your aunt Rebecca think of this fratching? Komm. Sit.”

She wasn’t going to retire from the battle that easily, but Lainey let herself be maneuvered a couple of steps back. Jake, seeming satisfied that she wouldn’t interfere, turned to Zeb.

“Why don’t you and your boys go on home now?” he said. “I’ll stop by the farm this evening and answer any questions you have then. No point in hanging around here, is there?”

Zeb didn’t speak. He glared for another moment, then glanced at his sons and jerked his head toward the door. They filed out without a word.

Katie expelled a sigh of relief when the door swung slowly closed, and her round face creased in a smile. “There now.” She patted Lainey’s arm as if she needed soothing. “You mustn’t mind Zeb. He’s always been cross-grained, and I believe he’s getting worse the older he gets.”

“Aunt Rebecca said once that he was sour where Uncle Isaac was sweet.” Lainey smiled, remembering.

Katie chuckled. “Ja, that’s certain sure. Your gross-onkel was a kind man.”

“Yes, he was.” Like Aunt Rebecca, he had made her welcome in his home, although surely he must have had doubts about taking in a waif who’d been no relative of his at all.

“Komm.” Katie gestured to the chair next to the bed. “Sit and talk to Rebecca. Maybe she’ll hear your voice, even if she doesn’t speak.”

“I’ll be on my way....” Jake turned toward the door.

Lainey grabbed his arm before he could get away. “I’ll be right back,” she assured Katie, and led him out into the hall for a private word.

He came to a halt a few feet from the door, forcing her to stop as well. He was a bit too large for her to tug very far.

“You mind telling me what you’re doing?” His right eyebrow lifted.

“Stopping you. You’re not getting away before I understand what going on with Zeb Stoltzfus.”

“Later,” he said. “After you’ve had a chance to think about what Rebecca is asking.”

“Now.” Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. “I can’t make a decision without knowing all the facts. Surely an attorney can understand that.”

Jake detached her fingers from his sleeve. “Are you always this stubborn?” He sounded more interested than condemning.

“Yes.” Stubborn. And impulsive. Those two qualities had landed her in trouble more often than she cared to remember. Pain flickered at the thought of the events of the past couple of weeks.

“All right.” His rapid capitulation surprised her. He glanced around. “Come on. We can’t talk in the hallway where anyone might hear.”

Now it was his turn to grasp her arm and propel her down the hallway. His big hand enclosed her elbow, and she felt his warmth even through two layers of fabric.

Jake stopped at a door and peered through the narrow vertical window. “Good, it’s empty.” He shoved the door open and led the way inside. “We shouldn’t be disturbed in here for a few minutes.”

It was a chapel, she realized, carefully non-denominational as chapels usually were in places like hospitals. Light streamed through the abstract pattern of the stained glass window on the outer wall, laying a path of color across beige carpeting. Two short rows of pale wooden benches faced a table under the window, which held a vase of bronze-and-yellow mums.

“Have a seat.” He waited until she’d slid into a pew and sat down next to her.

“Now tell me.” Almost without thought she lowered her voice. “What does Zeb have against me?”

Jake frowned absently at the vase of flowers, apparently arranging his thoughts. She waited, trying to be patient. She could stand to do some thought-arranging herself, since at the moment her brain felt like a juggler, tossing a handful of colored balls into the air.

“Didn’t you wonder why an Amish woman would have an attorney?”

Lainey blinked at the question. “Well, I guess I didn’t consider it.” Why would she? She hadn’t known until he’d called her with the news, and she’d been too shocked to think of anything except getting here.

“It’s unusual, to put it mildly.” The lines of his face relaxed a little. “Unlike most of the Amish in this area, your great-uncle was actually fairly wealthy, at least in terms of the property he owned. I think it started almost by accident, but Isaac seemed to have a gift for knowing when to buy. As a result, when he became sick, he consulted me, wanting to be sure Rebecca had someone to advise her.”

“He didn’t trust the family to do so?” Picturing Zeb’s narrow, avaricious face, she didn’t think she’d trust him either.

“Let’s just say that Isaac didn’t want Rebecca to have to handle any family disagreements. He felt that having an outsider assisting her would prevent that.”

“Okay. But I still don’t see what there is in that to make his brother so upset. If, as you say, my aunt’s money is invested in land, there surely isn’t anything I have to do about it while she’s ill. When she gets better...” She stopped, not wanting to think about the alternative.

“Yes.” Jake seemed to be answering what she didn’t say, and his already deep voice deepened still more in sympathy. “We don’t know yet what will happen to Rebecca, and whether she’ll ever be able to take over managing the property again. In the meantime I can certainly collect rents and pay taxes, but there’s more to it than that.”

Lainey’s head was beginning to ache as Jake seemed intent on adding even more to the number of balls she was juggling. “You’d better tell me the worst of it. How else am I going to know what to do?”

His firm lips curved slightly. “There’s no ‘worst,’ as you say. It’s just that Rebecca owns several farms among other things—farms that Zeb and three of his sons operate.”

“They’re doing it for her?”

“No, they’re doing it for themselves. They pay her a rent that is...nominal, to say the least.”

She still didn’t quite see what all the fuss was about. “Surely Zeb doesn’t think I’m going to raise the rent or evict them or something. Things can just go on the way they are.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Jake’s frown told her that despite his words, there was something worse to come. “A week or so before Rebecca’s stroke, Zeb had asked her to sign one of the farms over to him so that he could use it for collateral on a loan. She hadn’t made a decision yet, so that’s in limbo, and I don’t know how badly he needed or wanted the money.”

No wonder Zeb was upset. “But he could hardly expect to go anywhere with that project while Rebecca is incapacitated, no matter who had the power of attorney.”

Jake shrugged. “As I said, I don’t know how badly he needs the money. And it is possible for the person with the power of attorney to sell property. In fact, it might become necessary for other reasons.”

Lainey glared at him, not liking the way this conversation was going. “Stop trying to break it to me gently. Just tell me.”

“I wasn’t.” His grin startled her. “But you’d be surprised how few people can keep up when a lawyer starts explaining things.”

“They teach you that in law school, do they?” That smile of his seemed to touch something inside her.

“Actually, I picked that up from my dad.”

The only thing she’d picked up from a long line of stepdads was that she was superfluous. And the assurance that they wouldn’t be around for long.

“So why might it be necessary to sell property?” She could feel the weight of responsibility getting heavier.

“I don’t know how much you remember about Amish beliefs, but they don’t have insurance. Decisions may have to be made about how to pay for Rebecca’s care. As long as her assets are tied up in land, it’s not going to be easy to come up with funds.”

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds. “But surely, Medicare...”

He was already shaking his head. “The Amish don’t pay into Medicare and Social Security, and they don’t accept the benefits. In the case of someone needing hospital care, the family pays out of pocket, and when necessary, the church district takes up an offering to make up the difference.”

She tried to wrap her mind around it. So in addition to fending off angry relatives and making decisions about Aunt Rebecca’s care that she felt very ill-equipped to make, she was also probably going to be landed with a cartload of bills she couldn’t pay. She pressed her fingers to her temples.

“Is that all of it? You don’t have any more surprises for me?”

“That’s it.” She thought she read sympathy in his clear green eyes. “Sorry about hitting you with all of this, but you wanted to know.”

“I did.” Lainey took a deep breath. It didn’t help. “Well, thanks for being honest with me.”

“It’s not an easy situation. To continue being honest, I advised her against choosing you for this responsibility.”

“Prejudiced without seeing me?” she asked sweetly.

“It’s not that.” His tanned face flushed. “I just thought it made more sense to name someone here, someone who’d have a better understanding of Rebecca’s situation.”

“Like my great-uncle Zeb?” The momentary connection she’d felt at his sympathy vanished.

“No, certainly not Zeb.” His voice was crisp. “Not anyone who has something to gain or lose by the decisions that might be made. But that list still includes other people who...” He let that trail off.

But she could finish it for him. “...who are more qualified than I am? Annoying as that is, you may be right.”

Jake’s jaw set, and he seemed to censor the words that sprang to his lips. “As I mentioned, you don’t have to accept. We could make a recommendation that another person be chosen because you’re unable to perform the duties. After all, you have a home and a life elsewhere. No one could blame you for saying no.”

Home was something she’d never had, unless she counted one long-ago summer. And her life was such a mess that she wasn’t especially eager to return to it.

But neither of those was a good reason for turning down the responsibility Aunt Rebecca had thrust upon her.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, rising. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Jake stood, too, looking down at her for a long moment, his face giving nothing away. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” He glanced at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the office.” Without waiting for a response, he walked quickly out of the chapel.

Lainey followed more slowly. Heading down the hall toward her aunt’s room, she tried to marshal her thoughts, but they refused to be collected.

She was aware of one overwhelming urge. Escape. That was what she always did, wasn’t it? When things got difficult, when relationships grew sticky, she escaped. At least, unlike her mother, she didn’t marry her mistakes.

At the moment, her stomach churned with anxiety, with the urge to keep going right past that hospital room where Aunt Rebecca lay, to get on the elevator, to get in her rental car, and get out of town.

She didn’t. She turned and walked back into her aunt’s room. If she was going to back out of this situation, at least she wouldn’t run.

* * *

LAINEY GLANCED AT the clock over the refrigerator. Jake had told Zeb he’d stop by to see him this evening. He might be there now. What was he telling the man?

Odd, wasn’t it? She’d never heard of an attorney who made house calls, and on someone who wasn’t a client, no less. Maybe Jake was just a really nice guy. Or maybe there was more involved in this situation than she realized. In any event, she’d better curb her well-known gift for acting impulsively and consider all the options before making such a big decision.

She dried the plate she’d used for her supper, looking out the window over the sink. The sun was sliding over the ridge, its slanting rays turning the trees in the woods to gold. Beyond the patch of woods, where the land sloped gently upward, she could see cows moving toward a barn, prompted by a small Amish boy whose straw hat didn’t even reach the cows’ backs.

She’d forgotten how peaceful the valley was. And how beautiful. Of course, it was possible that as a child she hadn’t noticed it. She’d been too busy running around all day with those two girls...she blanked out, unable to remember their names for a moment. Then it came back to her, swimming up from the depths of memory. Rachel and Meredith.

Rachel had been the Amish girl from the farm on the other side of the creek, and Meredith the one who lived in the house next door. Apparently she still did, from what Lainey remembered of her great-aunt’s letters. It was hard to imagine someone as bright and energetic as Meredith had been settling down in a place like Deer Run.

People did, she supposed. Her thoughts went back to Jake. He had, obviously. Maybe he liked being the big fish in the small pond.

What was he saying to Zeb Stoltzfus? She couldn’t help feeling a sliver of uneasiness, despite Jake’s assurances. Jake had claimed he didn’t support the idea of Zeb controlling Rebecca’s assets or her care, but what if he liked the idea of Lainey doing it even less? Despite those few moments when they’d seemed to click, he’d clearly thought Rebecca had made a mistake in naming her.

Lainey’s cell phone rang, and her nerves seemed to jangle in tune with it. She’d given the hospital her cell number. Dropping the dish towel, she snatched up the phone.

“Hello?”

For a moment there was nothing. Then a voice, a muffled, hoarse whisper that might have been a man or a woman, muttered a string of the abuse and obscenities that had grown all too familiar in recent weeks.

She yanked the phone away from her ear and punched the off key. Her stomach churned, and her ear tingled as if something ugly had crawled inside.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to shake. She ought to be getting used to it. The calls had come in a steady stream since Joanna Marcus had so publicly attempted suicide. She’d tried reporting them to the police in St. Louis. The officer she spoke with had looked as if he thought she deserved what she got.

But those calls had come on her landline at the apartment in St. Louis. How had someone gotten the number of her cell phone? Of course, anyone who’d worked in the ad agency could easily have access to her cell number. Her stomach churned at the thought that the caller might be someone she knew.

Lainey reached out to turn off the phone and realized she couldn’t. That number was the only way the hospital could reach her.

At least she could be smart enough to check the caller before she answered. After a string of remarkably stupid decisions, surely she could manage that.

Lainey ran her hand through tangled curls. She was not going to go through it all again. But the memories, once started, unrolled in her mind like a disaster movie, where one wrong choice led inexorably to another.

Dating your boss was stupid. She knew that, but she’d let Phillip Marcus charm her anyway. She’d let it get serious, more so than she ever did, believing him when he said he and his wife had been legally separated for a year, that his divorce would be final in a matter of months, that he was free of a marriage both of them agreed was a mistake.