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The court case was scheduled for the following Monday, and there were a few days left before Brad would be called up to testify. He had hoped to talk to Jemima again, but instead, he found himself using the time to entertain Sheila.
She rapped on his door at 9 a.m. the following morning. Brad wiped shaving cream off of his chin, pulled on his belt, and stepped into his shoes. She was kind of early, but then, early was a relative term. If there was one thing he appreciated about Sheila, it was that she did not require him to battle the world before sunrise.
He opened the door, and Sheila was standing in the opening with one hand on the frame, and the other set jauntily on one hip. She smiled at him, and jingled her car keys.
He allowed himself to admire her. Sheila was a beautiful girl. On that particular morning, her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and she was wearing a little red number that hugged every curve. And Sheila did have the curves.
She was wearing a little more mascara and lipstick than he liked, but there was no denying that he was a lucky guy. Kind of.
Because Sheila required attention.
“Let’s grab some breakfast,” she was saying. “I saw a cute little B&B on the way in, and you can bring me up to speed on the way over.”
He assumed an innocent expression. “Oh, there’s really not that much to tell, Sheila,” he said apologetically. “Actually, it’s been kind of dull, out here in the green hill county. Not much to do,” he laughed.
She gave him a shrewd look. “Yes, I can see that,” she drawled, flicking his bruised chin with her finger. “You never did tell me how you got that mark.”
Brad gave her a big, cheesy smile and cast about in his mind for the least damaging way to explain. “I met a stranger by accident,” he joked.
“Good grief, Brad,” she teased, “do you mean that one of the locals popped you? They’re incredibly boring, but they aren’t supposed to be violent!” she laughed.
He rubbed his jaw gingerly. “You’d be surprised,” he muttered.
“Hmmm. Well, if I had to guess, I’d say it had something to do with the Amish Dolly,” she sighed and smiled. “And we can’t have that, now – can we?”
Then she leaned over, gave him a kiss, and pulled him outside by his tie.
They spent the better part of the morning at the Happy Daisy Rest B&B outside of town. The Happy Daisy Rest was a two-story white clapboard farmhouse that had been tricked out in frilly gingerbread trim, lavishly landscaped, and turned into a bed and breakfast by a retired couple.
Sheila ordered the full breakfast. It was overpriced, served on bone china, skimpy by the generous local standards, and slow to arrive because the owners insisted on serving it in five stages. It was a touch that seemed to delight Sheila, but that Brad found pretentious and irritating.
Sheila devoured a cheese and spinach quiche about the size of a half-dollar, dabbed her lips, and cast an approving glance around the dining room. “You know, Brad, I can almost see it, why people come here. It’s like taking a vacation to 1875. It might actually be relaxing for a day or two when things get crazy in the city.”
Brad nodded silently and popped a biscuit that was small enough to be eaten in one bite.
“But I would think that after that, you’d just lose your mind with boredom,” she added, taking a sip of coffee.
Brad smiled, nodded, and raised his own cup.
He was mostly silent, but since Sheila more than filled the gap with office gossip, he wasn‘t required to come up with much conversation. That was a relief: because there wasn’t much he could afford to tell her.
Sheila continued to talk. After a leisurely half hour they finished their meal, and the owner brought the check. Brad reached into his wallet for his card.
Sheila picked up the tab, glanced at it, and giggled. “We’re in luck!” she whispered. “Look – they forgot to charge us for the second meal. Score!”
Brad raised his eyebrows. He would‘ve thought nothing of letting it slide a month ago, back in the city. But here, in the middle of Amish country, the small dishonesty seemed glaringly wrong.
Brad smiled awkwardly, because his reason sounded lame, even to him. “I can’t stiff them, Shiels,” he told her and raised his hand. “Sir?”
Sheila leaned in and hissed: “What are you doing? It was overpriced – you’re blocking karma!”
But by that time, the owner had come to the table. Brad looked up at him sheepishly. He felt like a fool but made himself say: “Um – our bill was only for one meal, instead of two.”
The man peered at it and gasped. “You’re right – and thank you! I appreciate your honesty!”
The man hurried off to correct the mistake, and Sheila gave him a disgusted look. “What’s wrong with you? You could have saved the paper some money!”
He shrugged sheepishly. “Must be something in the water around here,” he told her, and got up to go.
Brad soon discovered that Sheila had a full itinerary for the day, and after breakfast she drove into downtown Serenity for some shopping. She hinted strongly that he should come, too.
Brad smiled and told her no as politely as he could muster. “People know my face around here,” he shrugged. “I don‘t want them to mob me about Jemima.”
Sheila raised her brows. “Oh yes – the Amish Dolly. She’s the hometown hero here, isn’t she?” she drawled. “That must be so irritating for you, Brad! I guess you’re counting the days until you can get out of here, and back to civilization. Well, it won’t be too long now – poor darling!”
She leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t go too far now! I’ll meet you back at the gazebo in the square, in an hour.”
Brad nodded, and waved, and Sheila teetered off on her three-inch heels. She had soon disappeared into one of Serenity’s many gift shops.
And as soon as she was gone, Brad turned into an alley between buildings and dug in his pocket for his cell phone. He opened his messages and searched down them with a hungry eye. He’d given the Duchess his cell phone number and asked her to call him if she thought she could get away. To his disappointment, there was no message.
He sighed. Jemima‘s court case was going to be a media zoo, and he wanted to get the interview with her before then if he could. First and foremost, because Delores had threatened his job if he didn’t; and secondly, because he had the feeling he might not get the chance to see Jemima afterward.
And he really wanted to see her one last time.
Of course, it was a lunatic desire: The Duchess was probably off with one of her farm boys at that very moment. She might even have decided which of them she wanted to marry by now. And it made perfect sense. They could give her what she wanted – a safe, quiet life and a family.
For an instant he allowed himself to picture what that would be like: living in the gorgeous green hill country, leading the simple life, turning his back on the 21st century with all of its noise and tension. No crushing deadlines, no games, no cutthroat competition. One day of peace melting into another, with familiar faces all around.
And for just an instant—because he couldn’t keep himself from doing it—he imagined waking up to the Duchess‘ angel face every morning, of having her soft voice be the first sound to touch his ear. He closed his eyes and smiled.
After a long, pleasant moment, Brad opened his eyes again, turned the phone off and put it back into his pocket, frowning. He twisted his mouth sardonically. He‘d never known anything even close to that pleasant dream. And if the truth were told, the Amish hinterland probably wasn’t as perfect as it looked from the outside. Most things weren’t.
And then, too, the Amish had all that religious guilt. They had to worship all the time, and their faith required endless hand-wringing about “sin.” Even though, comparatively speaking, they probably needed to repent the least of anyone within a thousand miles. Or, the particular Amish person that he was thinking of, anyway.
He sighed and looked up at a small sliver of sky between the alley walls. No, Sheila was right, Delores was right, and he was right – in his moments of clarity. The Duchess was nothing but a beautiful mirage.
And a heck of a good story. The sooner he started thinking of her that way, the better.
But when he turned to leave the alley between the two stores, he happened to pass one of the display windows. There, with its big green eyes looking out at him, was the innocent Jemima doll, with its wispy red hair and angel wings.
