Marta Perry - Abandon the Dark

She stood up, obviously surprising him. “I’m going to the hospital,” she said. “I can’t decide anything until after I’ve seen Aunt Rebecca.”

* * *

JAKE CHECKED HIS rearview mirror to be sure he hadn’t lost Lainey, following in her rental car, when he turned up the street that led to the hospital. He hadn’t.

His encounter with Lainey Colton had confirmed all his concerns about the wisdom of Rebecca’s choice. His elderly client, like most Amish in the valley, had more relatives close at hand than an Englischer like him would find comfortable. Rebecca could have named any one of them.

But she hadn’t, obviously. Maybe that plethora of local relatives was exactly the reason she’d chosen to leave her affairs in the hands of an obscure great-niece she hadn’t seen in twenty years.

When he’d voiced his concerns to Rebecca, she’d been adamant. According to her way of thinking, you could know everything there was to know about a person’s character at ten. He’d thought Rebecca, from the shelter of her quiet Amish life, was underestimating the influences the outside world could bring to bear on a person.

At the time, Rebecca had been in fine health for a woman in her seventies, and he’d thought he would have plenty of time to convince her to reconsider. In retrospect, he’d been wrong. Now he was going to have to deal with the fallout.

He flipped on his turn signal and swung into the visitors’ lot. Lainey pulled her car into a slot a short distance down the row from his, so that he had an opportunity to study her as she walked toward him.

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.