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“Amanda’s a vet,” Trey added helpfully. “She worked in Lancaster County for some time.”
Sarah’s expression relaxed. “Guess you know your way around a farm, then. Komm, we’ll look at the cottage.”
By the time they’d looked around the simple two-bedroom cottage, Sarah and Amanda were chatting like old friends, and he was confident that this one aspect of her problem was solved. As for the rest...well, he didn’t feel so hopeful. If she was Melanie’s daughter, it would have to be proved, and he didn’t know what Elizabeth Winthrop’s reaction would be to the prospect of an illegitimate great-granddaughter showing up.
His uncomfortable line of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Amos, Sarah’s husband. Sarah filled him in with a quick rattle of Pennsylvania Dutch, at the end of which he nodded.
“Wilkom, Amanda. We’re glad to have you here.” He gave a quick glance at his wife. “Is there any apple pie left, by chance?”
“Only because I hid half a pie from you and the boys,” she said. “Komm along to the house, all of you. We’ll have a little snack, yah?”
The women went ahead, and Amos fell into step with Trey. He gave him a nudge with his elbow strong enough to make him stagger. “So you finally found a woman willing to look twice at you. Looks to me like you picked a fine one.”
“Business,” Trey said quickly. “She’s here on business.”
“Tell that to someone who hasn’t known you most of your life,” Amos said, his face splitting in a grin. “I saw the way you looked at her. You’re caught at last, ain’t so?”
“No such thing,” he said firmly. “I’m doing some legal work for her, that’s all.”
“If you say so,” Amos said, but Trey knew he wasn’t buying it.
Just the kind of talk he didn’t want to get around. And if he knew Sarah, she was thinking exactly the same thing as her husband. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ubaf23632-79a5-5418-8b50-3a908bd00fb5)
AMANDA HAD INTENDED to spend the afternoon at the library, but since Sarah said she could move in right away, Amanda headed back to the motel to check out and pack. By late afternoon, she’d settled in the cottage and was busy familiarizing herself with the workings of the gaslights and heating.
Barney, after giving the cottage a thorough going-over, had apparently decided to lay claim to the hearth rug in front of the fireplace. He circled a couple of times, sighed and lay down, resting his head on his paws.
“I’m glad you approve,” she told him. “Since I’m not sure how long we’ll be here.”
She glanced at her watch, realizing that it was too late for even a cursory survey of the library’s files. That would have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, she could make an opportunity to talk to Sarah. From what Trey had said, they’d lived here for ages. Sarah might remember something of the accident to Melanie Winthrop, even if it were just what Amanda had already heard.
Pausing at the window, Amanda looked down the lane that led to the farmhouse. A stand of evergreens surrounded the cottage, cutting off her view of most of the farm buildings and giving the cottage an air of privacy.
Trey’s mention of her work in Lancaster County had probably sealed the deal, influencing Sarah to accept her. The Amish here were most likely one of the many daughter settlements from the Lancaster County Amish. She was annoyed that just the unexpected mention of that time had the power to make her stomach clench. Had he wondered why she’d been so terse about it?
Probably not. Trey barely knew her, even though they had been forced into a situation of some intimacy. He certainly didn’t know about the disaster that had sent her scurrying back to Boston and her mother.
Juliet had never been in favor of her going into practice with Rick. Better not to mix work and relationships, she’d said, carefully avoiding any hint of censure of Rick O’Neill’s character.
Juliet had been right, but she’d never so much as breathed an I told you so when Amanda came home, her relationship broken and her practice at an end. She’d dried Amanda’s tears, insisted Rick wasn’t good enough for her daughter and helped her find a new job.
It had been over a year. Rick should be a forgotten footnote in her life by now. Still, did anyone ever really get over the realization that their loved one was busily cheating all those times he’d been supposedly called out on a job?
Her cell phone rang before she could get too far along the road of beating herself up for being so wrong about him. The sight of Robert McKinley’s number yanked her attention back to her current problems, and she answered quickly.
“Robert? How are you? Is there any news?” At least she’d managed to ask how he was before barreling into her own concerns.
“I’m just a little worried about you,” he replied. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She felt instantly guilty. “I’m sorry, I should have called you. I saw the attorney you recommended, and he’s being helpful.”
“You mean there’s actually something in this...suspicion of yours?”
She suspected that he’d deleted the word harebrained from his question. “It seems like a good possibility that my mother was a young woman who lived here. Nothing is certain yet,” she added quickly. “Please don’t worry. I’m being cautious about it.”
“I have to admit that I didn’t think this trip would be useful, but this will be good news if it pans out. Just don’t forget that the crucial question is whether or not Juliet legally adopted you.”
Crucial from his perspective. Robert would always see things from the legal point of view. He wanted to take care of her as her mother would have, she supposed.
“I haven’t forgotten, but it’s worth exploring this lead if it turns out the woman was my mother. It will give you a place to look. Has your records search turned up anything?”
“Not yet, but it still may. When are you coming home?” There was an urgency in his voice that hadn’t been there before.
“I don’t know. Not until I’m satisfied one way or the other with what I’ve learned here. Why?”
Robert hesitated for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally he spoke.
“I hate to bring this up, but unfortunately your uncle—well, Juliet’s brother—has been nosing around. Maybe I’m wrong that he didn’t suspect anything about your parentage. This must mean that he has some idea Juliet’s will isn’t entirely straightforward.”
* * *
GOOD OLD GEORGE. Juliet had had no illusions about her brother’s character, and she’d apparently been right.
“I wish you’d come back here.” Robert sounded fretful. “I’d be happier if you were actually in residence at the house. Possession does count, you know.”
“I understand. But I’d rather be searching for the truth of my parentage than sitting there in Boston waiting for the roof to cave in. Isn’t knowing the truth more important?”
“I suppose,” he admitted. “I just hope you’re not opening up something that will hurt and disappoint you.”
Poor Robert. She couldn’t let him take care of her any more than Juliet had ever been willing to. “Thanks, Robert. It makes me feel better to know I have you in my corner. You’re a sweetheart.”
“Yes, well...” He became flustered, as he always did when touched by emotion. “Just take care of yourself. And give me your address, so I know where to find you.”
After she’d given him the information he wanted and been soothed to the best of her ability, Amanda stood for a moment at the window, phone in hand. She glimpsed movement and spotted Sarah approaching up the path, carrying a basket on her arm.
Amanda opened the door even before Sarah reached it. Here was her chance to speak to Sarah privately, and she hadn’t had to go looking for it. That seemed to bode well for her goal.
“Sarah, hi. Come in.”
“I don’t want to disturb you. Are you getting settled in all right?” Sarah’s cheeks were like two red apples when she smiled.
“I’m all set. Thanks again, so much. The cottage is perfect. As you can see, Barney is making himself right at home.”
Stepping inside, Sarah glanced at Barney, who was sitting up, looking, Amanda hoped, like a perfect gentleman. “It’s gut you have him. I’d hate to think of you alone here.”
Amanda shook her head. “I wouldn’t be lonely, but he is good company.” Sarah probably couldn’t understand that, living in a house with so many family members crammed in.
“Well, here is some streusel coffee cake, just in case you get hungry before you have a chance to get groceries in. And milk. Just to tide you over.”
“That’s so nice of you.” Amanda took the basket and set it on the kitchen table. The coffee cake looked so delicious she was tempted to have a piece immediately.
“Ach, it’s nothing.” Sarah waved a hand to dismiss her kind gesture. “I’m sure you have things to do. Trey said you have business in town.”
Something about that sentence made it into a question. It seemed Sarah was as curious about her as she was about what Sarah might know.
“I’m here looking into some questions that came up after my mother’s recent death. There seemed to be a...a connection to Echo Falls.” How could she find out anything and still be as careful as Trey and Robert seemed to want?
“Ach, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Sarah’s face clouded, and she reached out and touched Amanda’s hand lightly in sympathy. “It’s hard to lose your mother.”
Amanda nodded, her throat tightening. “Yes.”
“So you said something about Echo Falls? Was your mother from here?” Sarah leaned against the table as if prepared to stay and talk for a while.
“Not exactly.” She hesitated, trying to think how to ask the questions she wanted without getting into an explanation she didn’t want to give. “But I think she may have been friends with someone who grew up here.”
“Yah?” Sarah looked puzzled but interested.
“You might have known her. She died in an accident at the falls. Her name was Melanie Winthrop.”
For an instant Sarah’s face seemed to freeze. Then, before Amanda could say anything, she’d turned away and headed for the door.
“I... I’d forgotten something I must do. I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” She left without waiting for a goodbye.
Amanda stood at the door and watched her go—fleeing, almost, as if from something she didn’t want to face. Slowly she closed the door.
Well. Amanda blew out a long breath. If that was the sort of reception she’d get whenever she mentioned the name Melanie Winthrop in this town, she wasn’t likely to find out anything.
* * *
LEAVING THE LIBRARY behind the next day, Amanda walked toward the café. She’d agreed to meet Trey there for lunch to share the fruits of their efforts. When she’d suggested that they didn’t need to have lunch together to do that, he’d countered with the fact that they’d have lunch in any event, so they may as well eat while they talked.
She hadn’t found an argument to that, at least not without coming out and admitting that she was trying to prevent a repeat of the feelings she’d experienced the previous day at the falls.
Trey, however, seemed friendly in a businesslike way, and his manner reassured her. Once Esther waved them to a table in the corner, he looked around as if something were missing.
“No guard dog today?”
Amanda shook her head. “I thought he’d better stay at the cottage. Somehow I didn’t think he’d be welcome at the library.”
“No, I don’t think so. Mrs. Gifford runs a tight ship. She used to make us kids empty our pockets before we went back to the stacks, just to be sure no sticky candy was going to get on her books.”
She had to smile. “I did think her rather intimidating. To say nothing of curious. She seemed to find a lot of reasons to walk behind me while I was scanning the microfiche.”
“That’s unfortunate, but it’s about what I expected. It won’t be possible to keep your mission a secret very long.”
Trey seemed to take that more seriously than she did. Maybe it was a sign of his mixed loyalties. Or possibly being overly cautious was part of the attorney’s job description.
“I never thought keeping it quiet was a viable option. If I’m going to find answers, people will have to know what the questions are.” A spurt of annoyance went through her. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” His eyebrows lifted, giving his face a momentary look of caricature. “The Winthrop family might well take offense at a stranger bringing up the painful past.” He held up a hand when she would have spoken. “Okay, let’s not go over the same ground again, especially when Esther is heading this way.”
Maybe he was right. She tried to focus on the menu, but ended up ordering the chicken potpie because Esther seemed to expect it. Meanwhile she wrestled with the unpalatable fact that if she made enemies of these people to start with, they were hardly likely to be cooperative.
Once Esther had gone, Trey glanced around the café, and he was apparently satisfied that the other customers were focused on their own meals and conversations. “How did you make out with the newspaper accounts?”
Amanda shrugged off her irritation. “Slim, very slim. Pictures of the falls, an account of the difficulty the volunteers had in bringing her out, a sketchy account of her being spotted by a hiker. And a carefully worded obituary a day later.” She toyed with her spoon. “It allowed me to visualize Melanie a little better, but it was short on helpful facts. I ran across a photo of her,” she said, setting it on the table. “She looked very young, very naive. She was barely eighteen when she died.” That was inexpressibly sad. Amanda glanced at Trey, to find him studying her face. “What? Do you see a resemblance?”
“Not in coloring, so much, but maybe in your features. What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” She’d wanted some confirmation one way or the other in the photo, but she didn’t see it. Certainly no one had ever said she looked like Juliet, and now she knew why. “For an instant I thought she looked familiar, but then it passed. Anyway, a black-and-white newspaper photo hardly gives an idea of how someone looks.”
“True enough. Did the newspaper say anything about where Melanie had been? Or mention her leaving town at all?”
Amanda shook her head. “It said she’d recently returned from a visit to friends in New York. I suppose that was what the family told the reporter.”
“And he’d be unlikely to print anything else, even though the town had been whispering about Melanie’s departure for months.”
“But what was the point, if people already guessed the truth?” She let her exasperation spill over. “What’s the use of trying to manipulate the news, then?”
“Darned if I know, but obviously it was important to the Winthrop family. Pride, I suppose. Things were a little different then in terms of what was acceptable.”
“I guess. It’s difficult to envision how much society has changed in the last thirty years or so.” But this wasn’t getting them anywhere. “What about you?”
“I didn’t have much more luck with the records...”
He cut the words short when Esther arrived with their meals. Beaming, she slid steaming bowls in front of each of them and added a basket of rolls. “There now. You get that inside you, and you’ll have plenty of energy for whatever you have to do today.”
“It smells delicious,” Amanda said. And it looked that way, too.
Esther picked up her tray, gratified. “I hear you’re staying with the Burkhalter family.”
She blinked. “How did you hear about that already? I just moved in yesterday afternoon.”
“Ach, you haven’t run into the Amish grapevine yet, ain’t so? We don’t need telephones for word to spread fast. You’ll be happy there, I know. Sarah will take gut care of you.”
“She’s already brought me a streusel coffee cake, just to be sure I wouldn’t go hungry,” Amanda said. Somehow she doubted that any more gifts would be forthcoming, not if Sarah’s abrupt departure at the mention of Melanie Winthrop meant anything about her future behavior.
“Ach, that’s Sarah all right.” Someone hailed Esther, and she moved off, unhurried.
Trey buttered a roll, watching her. “You looked a little funny when she mentioned Sarah. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
She wasn’t sure she liked the fact that he could read her expressions so easily. “Something happened that was rather odd. Sarah and I were having a nice conversation, and she asked about what brought me to Echo Falls. I didn’t tell her the whole story, but when I mentioned Melanie Winthrop she just...froze. I don’t know how else to put it. Her whole manner changed. She said she had to do something and rushed away. I didn’t know what to make of it.”
Trey’s forehead furrowed. “That is strange. I’m surprised she even knew about Melanie’s disappearance. She wouldn’t have been much more than in her early teens, I’d guess.”
Shrugging, Amanda scooped up a fragrant spoonful of the chicken broth and noodles. “Teenagers seem to know everything. I don’t suppose it was any different then.”
