“I never understood why Perry got second and third and fourth chances, but I never did.”
DEBORAH BORNTRAGER
So good to see ya today, Deborah!” Mr. Schrock said when he walked toward the front of the store. “The missus says you’ve settled right in like a duck to water.”
When Deborah arrived for her second day on the job, Mrs. Schrock had given her the task of cleaning out the dairy cases. That meant everything needed to be taken out, the cases carefully cleaned with watered-down bleach, all products carefully examined for expiration dates, then put back.
It was not an easy job.
And despite Mr. Schrock’s encouraging words, Deborah was afraid she had not taken to it that easily. First she’d forgotten to put on gloves, making the paper cut on her hand sting when it had come in contact with the bleach.
Then, of course, she’d splashed some of the solution all over her dress. Now there was a great white stain smack in the middle of her black apron.
Added to that, she had six more hours to go. It was anyone’s guess what trouble she’d get into next.
But of course that didn’t mean she should share any of that with Mr. Schrock. “Danke. I’m happy to be here.”
He stepped closer, peering over her shoulder. “How’s the cleaning going?”
“It is fine. I should finish by two or three.” With God’s help.
“Gut! Mind the bleach now, it can be a tricky thing to clean with.”
Yes, she had certainly found that out. “I will, danke.”
Clasping his hands together, he smiled. “All righty. Mrs. Schrock and I are going to pay a visit to the Millers for bit, but Jacob will be here to keep you company.”
And . . . that meant her “great” day was now complete. “I’ll look for him, then,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” His lips pursed, making Deborah stand up straight. It looked like he had something he wanted to say. When he paused, she thought she’d nudge him along, “Yes, Mr. Schrock?”
“I . . . I, uh, I wanted to tell ya . . .”
“Yes?”
“Mind the kittens, wouldja? Take them out and cuddle them once an hour or so. All God’s creatures need some love and affection every now and then.”
Glancing to the corner of the store, to where a pair of kittens lay contentedly curled up next to each other in a pen, she smiled. “I will enjoy that job.”
He laughed. “See? Some folks don’t think I should sell animals here, but it’s a gut thing. Everyone needs something to love, and pets love you back. Even when you don’t always deserve it, you know?”
Forcing herself to ignore the sharp pang of sadness that his words brought her—because she absolutely did not have anyone to love—Deborah chuckled about the kittens as she got back to work.
Behind her, she heard Mr. Schrock’s booming voice chatting with his wife. Then she heard the door open and shut.
Then, almost stealthily, new footsteps approached.
Vigilantly, she kept her back to the noise. It had to be Jacob, and the longer she delayed seeing him, the better. She picked up a dry rag and began wiping down the excess water from the glass shelf. The footsteps came closer.
Her shoulders bunched up. Almost as if she expected a blow.
But then the footsteps stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as total awareness fell over her.
She had no choice but to turn around . . . and see that her hunch was correct. Jacob Schrock was behind her, his gaze solemn and piercing. “Jacob. Good day.”
He nodded silently.
For a moment, she boldly stared right back at him. Bracing herself for another tirade to spew from his lips. Especially now that they were alone, there would be nothing stopping him from lashing out at her.
But instead of his usual anger, he looked uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “So it looks like you got dairy duty today.”
It sounded almost like an olive branch. Anxious for things to be smoothed out, she nodded. “Indeed, I do.”
He pointed to her apron. “You got some bleach on your apron.”
“I know.” To cover her embarrassment, she shrugged like the spot didn’t matter. “It’s ruined, for sure.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yes, but it’s nothing to worry over. I can make a new apron easily, and I’ll make a quilt with the scraps from this one.”
The topic of her apron now discussed to death, he stepped back. “I’ll be over at the counter. It usually gets pretty busy around noon or so.” He cleared his throat. “If it does . . . I might need your help.”
“All right.” Well, at least he wasn’t yelling at her. There was that, at least.
Deborah turned back to her chore, feeling strangely at a loss for words. She didn’t want to work with him like this, with all this tension. But what else could she do?
“Hey. Uh, Deborah?”
“Yes?” she said to the dairy case. No way was she going to face him again.
“My daed says I should apologize. He said that I’ve been rude to you.”
The words were stilted and choppy. And in Deborah’s opinion, it was a pretty sorry apology. Surely even a child could speak from his heart!
She knew she should accept it gracefully and move on. But she was tired of his rudeness. And so tired of pretending her feelings didn’t matter. “And what do you think? Do you want to apologize?”
“I think that he might be right.”
She couldn’t help it, she slowly turned to face him again. “You do?”
He bit his bottom lip, then spoke. “I do.” Exhaling, he said, “I am sorry for taking out my anger toward Perry on you. He and I had some rough times, as I’m sure you know. And, well, every time I think about how you’re his sister, how the two of you are related, it makes me want to take my frustrations out on you.”
“I was his sister, not his master, Jacob. I had no control over what he did, or if he hurt your feelings.”
“I realize that. Now. It wasn’t right. I know that.”
She ached to remind Jacob that she’d felt betrayed, too; and she was grieving. That she, too, was feeling confused and hurt and scared. After all, she had lost a brother. And more than that, he hadn’t died of natural causes. Someone had murdered him.
And that even though Perry had made mistakes, and had hurt a great many people, he’d had no chance to repent or ask forgiveness. Someone had taken that opportunity from him.
But even telling Jacob what was on her mind wouldn’t make anything better. It wouldn’t make the hurt go away, or ease her loss.
“Thank you for the apology,” she said woodenly. “I appreciate it.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to forgive me?”
His eyes were wide and honest. And against everything warring inside her, she felt herself melt. No good would come from holding on to her anger.
“Of course I forgive you,” she said.
His shoulders relaxed and his lips curved slightly. “I’m grateful. Thank you, Deborah.” He bit his lip. “Maybe we could start over, the two of us?”
How could they do that? She’d known him all her life, but she’d never honestly considered them close. Their relationship had been more of an extension of his friendship with Perry. Could years of stilted conversations ever change into something else?
Surely she could try.
“I’d like for us to be friends,” she said at last. “I could, ah, use all the friends I can get right now.”
“I know the feeling.”
As if their honest words had startled them, they once again shared a sweet smile. The way they used to, back when the three of them used to walk to school together.
“Well, I better get back to the bleach,” she quipped, trying to make her words seem light and almost impersonal. It would never do if Jacob discovered how much she used to like him. Before he could spy a hint of that in her face, she quickly turned back to the dairy shelf.
She heard him turn and walk away, greet a pair of ladies who entered the store.
But standing there in front of the dairy case, Deborah felt her face flush. Once again her silly, betraying heart had begun to imagine life with Jacob Schrock. Life as friends—and so much more than that.
The idea made her almost tremble with frustration. Oh, when would she ever get a clue? Getting close to Jacob would only bring her more heartache.
Because she’d never be able to forget Jacob’s note to Perry. The one he’d sent just before Perry went missing.
The note Perry had hidden in his bedside drawer.
The note she’d found and had done her best to hide ever since.
Well, that had been easy—about as easy as getting a tooth pulled! Jacob thought as he walked back to the front counter after greeting the women who’d just entered the store.
Deborah had accepted his apology. But she’d been noticeably cooler than usual. And instead of just hurt and pain flooding her gaze, he had spied something else, too—a deep, simmering anger.
He felt bad that he’d been the cause of it.
Thankfully, the bells at the front door chimed, signaling a new customer. “May I help ya?” he asked, wheeling around to see who entered.
“Yeah! You can get me fifty pounds of flour and bird seed,” Walker Anderson joked as he walked through the doors. Coming closer, he chuckled. “What’s with you, Jacob? Since when do you ask if I need any help with anything?”
“Sorry, I was trying to take my mind off something, I guess.”
Walker’s smile dimmed. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you swore off this place on your days off.”
“I did. But then my sister talked to my grandma, who asked if I could bring her a couple of things from the store.”
“Francis and James?”
“Yeah.” Walker shrugged. “I guess my grandpa is feeling under the weather.” His frown deepened. “My dad is driving him to the doctor today.”
“I hope it’s nothing too serious. Walker, you want to grab the flour or the seed?”
“You don’t need to get either. I’ll do it.”
“I can help. I’m not busy. I’m just standing here, watching Deborah work.”
Walker’s head swung to the right. “Deborah? Oh, hey, Deb!”
To Jacob’s surprise, Deborah waved one slim hand. “Hiya, Walker. How goes it?”
“Well enough.” His smile grew. “Hey, you look great over there, scrubbing.”
One of her eyebrows rose. “And why is that?”
“Because that means I’m not doing it,” he teased with an even broader grin.
“Whatever I can do to make your job easier pleases me greatly, Walker Anderson.”
Feeling like the odd man out, Jacob glanced from Walker to Deborah and back again. Had they always been so comfortable around each other? And he called her ‘Deb’? When had that come about?
“Walker, I’ll go get the seed from the back. You get the flour,” Jacob said.
“All right, sure,” he said. “As soon as I go say hi to Deborah.”
Feeling cranky all over again, Jacob walked to the back of the store. Why did he care if Walker and Deborah got along so well?
Was it because he’d been rude to her for days and she hadn’t melted at his awkward apology? Or, was it something else?
Looking her way, for the first time Jacob noticed that her eyes were pretty—not just the same shade as her mother’s and her brother’s. And that she really was a petite woman. Why, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder.
And her brown hair was dark, the color of darkly brewed coffee. Or perhaps it was mahogany? Whatever the color, it made her pink cheeks look pretty. And her hazel eyes shine bright.
With a bit of surprise, he realized that none of these things took him completely by surprise. He’d noticed her beauty before. He shook his head. If Deborah ever found out what he’d done to her brother, she would certainly hate him all her life.
And there was a very good chance that she’d make sure everyone else in Crittenden County hated him, too.