Marta Perry - Home by Dark

She unclenched her jaw. “Goodbye, Colin.”

* * *

MANDY CHATTERED ABOUT Colin’s dog all through supper, making it impossible for Rachel to stop thinking about him. Colin, that is. Not the dog. Of course Duke was the only thing on her daughter’s mind. Mandy had been asking for a puppy since she learned to talk, it sometimes seemed.

When they lived in the city, Rachel had found that a reasonable excuse not to burden herself with a dog. Now that they were ensconced in Deer Run, that reason no longer applied. She’d either have to come up with another one or give in.

Colin’s suggestion that a dog would provide protection for her and Mandy might have some validity, although she hated to admit that since it came from him. She’d been frightened, almost irrationally so, to find the door unlocked and someone in the house, even so benign a visitor as Jeannette. Maybe Benj’s fears were rubbing off on her.

Rachel carried dishes to the sink and turned on the hot water. They were eating in the kitchen, since it seemed silly for the two of them to sit in that formal dining room. Besides, it was the most cheerful room in the house, with its white walls and blue-and-white checked curtains at the many-paned south-facing windows. Some geraniums would probably do well on the two sills, distracting the eye from the faded linoleum on the floor and a gas range so elderly that it made her nervous every time she turned it on. Benj had lit it for her the first time, laughing at her fears.

Benj hadn’t come over today, unless he’d been here while she and Mandy were out. That was unusual. He’d stopped by every day since she’d moved in.

Mandy carried her plate carefully to the sink and handed it to Rachel. “I’ll clear the table, Mommy. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, sweetheart.” She loved it when Mandy helped without waiting to be asked, although a slight suspicion lurked at the back of her mind that Mandy might be intent on showing that she was mature enough for a puppy.

“Is Duke an old dog?” Mandy set her milk glass on the counter with a slight clink.

“I don’t know. What makes you ask that?”

“He has some gray hair on his face. I thought maybe that meant he was old.”

“You’re very observant.” She tugged at one of the ponytails Mandy wore today. “You can ask—”

A knock at the back door interrupted her. Maybe Benj, although he usually just opened the door and shouted. She hurried to the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and pulled it open. A cheerful greeting died on her lips. It wasn’t Benj. It was her father.

“Daadi.” The word came out as something of a croak. “I didn’t expect...come in, please.” She stepped back, gesturing toward the kitchen, trying to talk naturally around the lump in her throat. If her father was ready to accept her...

But he was already shaking his head at the invitation, his dark blue eyes distant. Ten years hadn’t really changed him much, save for a few gray hairs in the brown beard that reached his chest and a few more wrinkles around his eyes. His summer straw hat sat squarely on his head, looking exactly like the straw hats he’d worn since she could remember, and his suspenders crossed shoulders that were still strong.

“I am looking for Benjamin.” He clipped off the words. “He is here, ja?”

Rachel blinked a little, shaking her head. “We haven’t seen him today. Is something wrong?” She felt a small hand slip into hers. Mandy had come to stand next to her. She didn’t speak, but she studied her grandfather curiously.

“Nothing.” His expression belied the word, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to confide in her. Still, the very fact that he’d come to her door made it clear that he was worried about Benj. “He missed his supper, and his mamm is fretting about it.”

“Is Benj in trouble for missing supper?” Mandy asked.

Her father stared at Mandy for a moment, and Rachel had a sense that his expression was softening. “Not in trouble. But he should tell his mammi if he is going to be late, ja?”

“Ja,” she echoed.

Daad raised his hand in a slight gesture, as if about to touch Mandy’s face. Then he let it drop to his side and turned away.

Rachel’s heart cramped. Daadi, I know I broke your heart when I ran away. But I’m back now. Can’t we be friends, at least, for Mandy’s sake?

She wouldn’t say it, because she was afraid to hear his response.

“If I see Benj...” she began.

“If you see him, send him home. He has missed his supper.”

“I’ll tell him.” But she was talking to her father’s back as he walked away.

Rachel closed the door. She had known it wouldn’t be easy, coming back. She just hadn’t thought it would cause so much pain.

“Mommy, why doesn’t he like us?” Mandy didn’t sound hurt so much as curious.

“He doesn’t dislike us, sweetheart.” She picked her way through the thicket of explaining incomprehensible adult behavior to a child. “You see, he and my mother were really hurt when I ran away from them to marry your daddy. I think it’s hard for him to forget that.”

“Well, but you’re back now.” Mandy’s tone was practical. “I wish we could make up and be friends. Then I’d have a grandpa and grandma like everybody else.”

“I wish that, too.” She couldn’t let Mandy see her pain, because it was important that Mandy know she could count on her mother to be strong. “Maybe it will happen. We just have to be patient.”

Mandy stared at her for a long moment in much the same way she’d studied Daadi. “I’ll try,” she said finally, as if being patient was the hardest thing in the world. Well, maybe it was to a nine-year-old.

Rachel managed a smile. “Now, why don’t you find something to do while I finish up the dishes? Maybe we’ll have time for a game afterward.”

Mandy nodded. “I know just what to do. I’m going to make a picture of Duke. I’ll show you when I’m done.” She darted off, the kitchen door swinging behind her.

Rachel stared at the sink. She ought to get moving on the dishes. She ought to do a lot of things, but right now all she could think about was Benj. Her parents had to be very worried indeed for her father to come to her door.

The back window looked out over the outbuildings and beyond them to the creek and the covered bridge that crossed it, delineating Amish farms from the village proper. Daad had already appeared on the other side of the covered bridge. He paused for a moment, looking downstream, and fear curled inside her. Twenty yards or so beyond the bridge the stream tumbled over the small dam that had been there as long as anyone could remember. Pearson’s Dam, it was called, but she had no idea who Pearson had been. The dam wasn’t more than three feet high, but the force of water was such that a person could be swept under by it as if caught in a riptide. That was what had happened to Aaron Mast.

But Daad was walking on, heading for the stretch of woods along the south pasture. Obviously there had been no one at the dam.

Still, the fear was admitted, wasn’t easily dismissed. She ought to do something, but what?

A memory slid into her mind as if it had been waiting for the chance. Colin had said he’d expected Benj to show up to work on the lawn. Maybe that was the answer.

Without giving herself time to think about it, she went quickly to the telephone in the hallway. It was the work of a moment to look up Colin’s number and punch the buttons. If Colin thought she was making an excuse to call him—

She nearly hung up at that thought, but she already heard his voice in her ear.

“Colin, it’s Rachel Mason. I’m sorry to bother you, but is Benj at your place, by any chance? My father is looking for him.”