A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (46 page)

“I think we need to find your binoculars.”

A quick search of the room turned up nothing. The field glasses were most likely in the attic of the wood shop, where Leah did most of the homeschooling with Simon. As Adam dashed through the streaking rain, he realized it was time for Simon to go back to school, now that the media interest had died down and the killer had been apprehended. Simon would be happy to return to the schoolhouse with Teacher Emma.

Adam lifted the lantern inside the dark shop and found his way to the ladder. Right away he could see the small binoculars, placed neatly beside Simon’s marble notebook. He propped the lantern on the crate, taking a moment to look through the lessons Simon had written. There were lists of spelling words and short essays about snow and how to care for your horse. Adam could see Leah’s help in these. Maybe she would enjoy teaching in their little schoolhouse one day.

When he came upon a letter to Remy in the notebook, Adam paused. Was this just for practice?

Simon’s message hit hard. He closed the book, grabbed the binoculars and lantern, and retreated into the storm. Raindrops pinged against his hat as he sloshed through the mud.

All this time, he’d been walking around in a cloud of anger so dark and dangerous even a child could see it. He had hated himself for holding on to the pain. And now he hated himself for hating himself.

Why couldn’t he just let go?

Gelassenheit. Peace. Serenity.

Heavenly Father, please grant me the serenity to let this pain go
.

The sky flashed bright, followed by bounding rumbles of thunder.

Heal me, Father. Please, let me catch gelassenheit
.

Another lightning strike, and in that split second he saw his life torn in half. The hills were white, the sky split by a jagged line of electricity.

Split down the middle, as if to say,
That was your past, this is your future
.…

He removed his hat, letting the rain pelt his head and wash down his skin as he returned to the house, a new man.

he storm raged through the night, periodically tapping her window, then shifting with the wind to rattle the branches of trees behind Nancy’s house.

Remy was awake through most of it, her state of mind matching the rolling thunder and bright white lightning. She wouldn’t have slept even on the calmest of nights, as her thoughts and emotions had been scratched raw again at the sight of Adam.

What was she doing here?

That was the question he’d asked her, and though she’d answered truthfully she was now beginning to question the wisdom of her plan. Building a life in Halfway, dodging the perimeter of Adam and his family, she would be facing painful reminders of her own sin and failure every single day.

What had she been thinking?

Tonight she had more questions than answers.

Sometime during the night the angriest part of the weather
front passed, and Remy drifted off to sleep until the sound of the ringing phone woke her.

Not even six
A.M
.

She opened her bedroom door and heard Nancy down in the kitchen.

“Right through the roof? Thank the good Lord you’re okay. Did you get any rain inside?”

Recognizing concern in Nancy’s voice, Remy padded downstairs and faced the older woman across the wide granite island.

“That’s awful, Gina, but you know, things can be replaced. You just sit tight. I’m coming over. No, it’s no bother at all, and I have no qualms about alerting the Kings. They’ll fix it right up. We all will. You just sit tight.” Nancy pressed the button to end the connection, her mouth a slash of concern.

“That didn’t sound good.”

“That was Gina Mueller. You know, Chris’s mother? Talk about adding insult to injury. A huge tree came down in the storm last night. Sounds like it lopped off the corner of her house.”

“Scary. No one was hurt?”

“Fortunately, it came down on the side of the house, but she now has branches poking through her kitchen ceiling, as well as rain. I’m going to head over, sit with her for a bit. I’ll let the Kings know along the way. It’s their property, and I’m sure they’ll do the repairs, but Gina is too ashamed to speak to them right now. She’s devastated about what her boy did.”

Although she’d never met Gina, Remy felt a stab of compassion for the woman. It was a difficult situation all around.

“Do you mind if I come along? I’d like to help.”

Nancy sucked on a front tooth. “That’ll work. I’ll get dressed and meet you in the garage.”

Although the rain had stopped, the street glistened and here and there trees and bushes were bent from the force of the storm. On the way to the Muellers’ house, they decided it would be best for Nancy to stay with Gina while Remy went to the Kings’ house. From the crushed-stone driveway, Remy could only see parts of the crown of the tree on the house’s rooftop as she jumped into the driver’s seat, put the Jeep in gear, and headed back to the main road.

The turnoff to the King family farm was endearingly familiar, as if reading a favorite book once again. The vehicle bumped as she passed the cluster of beech trees and suddenly she was awash with memories of riding on the sled past these trees. The family of Amish snow people had been over by the front of the house, and she’d stood near Adam, almost kissed him by that paddock gate.

Tamping down memories, she rolled toward the barn, where she assumed the milking was just finishing up. Inside the cowshed some of the kids called her name in glee, but she held her hands up.

“I’m here on a mission. Where’s Adam?”

A head rose above one of the cows. Adam.

“I have to talk to you,” she said.

His stare was intense as he came to the center aisle. She didn’t know how long she could maintain composure under the scrutiny of his piercing eyes.

“You probably didn’t expect to see me so soon, but there’s been some storm damage. A tree came down and hit Gina Mueller’s house.” His harsh expression softened as she told him about the older woman’s distress and uneasiness about contacting the King family for repairs.

“But we’ll help Gina gladly. She can’t think we would hold a grudge.”

“I think her defenses are down. There’s the awful business with Chris, her home is in chaos, and she’s not sure where to turn.”

“And she had hip surgery this year.” He paused, calculating.
“I’m not sure she gets around too well. We’ll give her help cleaning up inside, too.”

Jonah joined them, concern creasing his forehead. “Gina has been our neighbor for as long as I can remember. We’ll take care of her.”

“It’s an in-between Sunday,” Adam said, thinking aloud. “We’ll gather some friends and get the tree off her house, start repairs. At the very least we can cover the roof with a tarp until all the repairs are done.”

It was decided that Adam would drive over with Remy to assess the damage, while Jonah, Gabe, and Mary got the word out for saws and able-bodied workers. Relief fell over her as she put the Jeep into gear. She had known Adam and his family would do the right thing. These were the people she would want behind her in a crisis.

However, the proximity in Nancy’s car reminded her of the high emotion that swirled around them when they were alone together. Although she tried to keep her eyes on the road, she couldn’t resist quick glances at Adam sitting tall in the seat, his hat in his lap.

Trying to focus, she pulled onto the road.

A second later she was shocked to find his hand on her shoulder.

“Take it slow. The road is still wet.”

She nodded, easing up on the gas and wondering why she was still so crazy for him.

“I’m glad you came to let us know about the tree. I suspect it wasn’t so easy for you.”

“It wasn’t. I wasn’t ready to drive down memory lane. Much as I miss everyone, I wasn’t ready to test my feelings for you and your family yet. It’s still too soon.” There. She’d said it.

And he didn’t seem surprised.

She eased her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, trying to relax. “One of these days, I don’t know when, but someday I’ll find the strength to move on. For now, it’s just the way I feel.”

“And you can’t control your feelings. You can control your actions … but not your feelings.”

She was surprised that he understood that part. “Exactly.”

“Take a left here.”

He pointed and she turned down the drive toward the Mueller house. Before she’d cut the engine, Adam was out of the Jeep. He headed around the house and she followed, coming to the unnatural-looking sight of the downed oak.

A massive tree, it lay in a bed of mud and smashed branches. On its side, it resembled a huge ship. “Noah’s ark,” she said aloud.

He turned to her. “Have you been reading the Bible?”

“Actually, I have.” She thought it would be wise to familiarize herself with the Bible again, as the Sunday church services would be in German, not an easy language for her.

A section of soil had been displaced where the bulk of the heavy trunk had landed. Adam moved past it to touch the bark. Then, as if mounting a horse, he hitched himself up and stood atop the trunk. “I’ll bet it’s more than a hundred years old.”

Remy picked her way through damp grass to examine the disabled roots, dirty tentacles forking madly into the air. Fortunately, the bulk of the tree had missed the house, the crown grazing one corner of the roof, where the storm gutter now dangled.

“How are you and your brothers going to move this?”

“We’re going to need help.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” The woman holed up under a blanket on the corner of the sofa was frail and petite, childlike but for her close-cropped silver curls. Remy supposed she seemed all the more frail because she had not completely recovered from surgery, and needed the aid of a walker to get around.

Nancy had made a pot of coffee, and though she kept trying to downplay the inconvenience of the fallen tree, it was apparent that there were other undercurrents rising to the surface here, things that needed to be addressed.

When Adam sat down across from Gina Mueller, all the air seemed to leave the room.

Gina cradled the warm mug in both hands, her eyes on the cracked wall and protruding tree limb. “I’m absolutely mortified. We’ve caused your family so much grief. Devastating heartbreak. And you’ve never shown us anything but kindness.”

“You have some of the details wrong, Gina.” Adam sat facing her from a wooden dinette chair that they had moved out of the damaged room. “You never did anything to harm us. You were a good friend to my mamm for as long as I can remember. You were there for her when she lost the little ones.”

Gina pulled her coffee mug closer to her chest. “I was. That was such a terrible thing.”