The Calling (24 page)

“I’ll do all I can,” Allen had promised. “He’s not the one we’re after. I want Jake Hertzler.”

There it was again. The feeling she got that there was something personal about this case for Allen. “Still,” Geena said. “Promise me you’ll keep Tobe out of jail.”

But Allen wouldn’t promise. He did say he would do his best, and if she happened upon any information that might prove useful, please call him. He gave her his business card and kissed her on the cheek. When had she last been kissed on her cheek by a man who wasn’t a senior citizen? Years and years and years. It was, she couldn’t deny, very nice.

But none of that pertained to Rose Schrock, standing in the middle of the guest flat living room, looking embarrassed. “Geena, I wondered . . . if you’re not in a hurry to return . . .”

“I’m not.”

Rose glanced up at her, a shy look on her face. “Would you be willing to move into the house and stay with my daughters? Just in case they needed extra help with the boys while they’re working and managing the new guests?”

Geena was pleased to be asked. Grateful, too. She wasn’t ready to go back to Philadelphia to officially start job hunting. She knew it was waiting for her and she dreaded it. “Consider it done. I’m glad that you feel comfortable asking me.”

“Well, I have a confession to make. We’re going to be staying at the home of someone who was our first guest at the inn. She has become a good friend. Her name is Delia Stoltz.”

“Aha. Now I see.” Delia Stoltz attended Geena’s church.
Her husband, Dr. Charles Stoltz, was new to church attendance but very vocal about his feelings that Geena should be replaced with someone who was a more dynamic preacher. “So, you’re probably aware that I was fired.”

Rose nodded.

“Don’t feel badly. It’s not a secret. I told Bethany about it.” Geena grinned. “But now you can understand why I have a surfeit of spare time.”

“I certainly wouldn’t charge you for staying at the house. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“I’m happy to be of help, Rose. In fact, I couldn’t be more delighted. It’s been good for me to be here.”

Rose looked at the title of the book on the kitchen table. “Delia mentioned that the problem wasn’t with your pastor’s heart, it was with your preaching.”

“That’s about right.” Geena rubbed her forehead. “I try so hard to preach well. I try to be just like my father—that’s what everyone expects. My father is a wonderful minister. I’ve been trained by the very best. I prepare detailed notes and put in hours of research . . . and still, something in the delivery goes badly. I bore myself!”

Rose picked up the book and flipped through it. “I don’t know much about being a minister, but one thing our preachers don’t do is to use notes. They let God’s Spirit guide them.”

“No notes? None at all? That would have given heart attacks to my seminary professors. Sermon preparation was a major focus. It even has a fancy name:
homiletics
.” She pressed her palms together. “They trained us to deliver a nice, tight sermon. Tight. Sixteen minutes long would earn you an A. Studies have found that’s the attention span of the congregation.”

Rose looked confused. “But how can God’s Spirit lead when a minister has it all planned out?”

Geena hadn’t thought of it that way. “But don’t your ministers ramble and go off on bunny trails?”

“Some do. Some are long winded. But some get right to the point. Those are the ones you can tell have forgotten about themselves—they’re just trying to share the word of the Lord because they love it so much. They talk from the heart.” She put the book back on the table. “Maybe . . . you shouldn’t try to preach like your father. Maybe you should just try to be yourself.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Listen to me! What do I know about preaching?” She shook her head. “Thank you for your help this week. I’m glad you came to Eagle Hill, Geena. You’ve been a blessing to us.”

13

O
n Monday morning, Bethany made pancakes for Sammy and Luke while Rose finished packing for the trip to Philadelphia. Allen Turner stood patiently by the open trunk of his car, waiting for suitcases to appear. Mammi Vera stood beside the car, frowning at Allen Turner, standing vigil. She didn’t like him or trust him, but that was only because she thought he was creating trouble for Tobe. She couldn’t understand that he was trying to help him.

Rose was bustling around the kitchen, giving Bethany and Mim last-minute instructions for the inn.

“We’ll be fine, Rose,” Bethany said. “Besides, as long as this heat wave continues, we’re not going to get any new guests.”

“The weather is supposed to cool down,” Rose said. “I told Geena she could move into the house while I’m away if she’d like to stay longer.”

“Mammi Vera did not like hearing that!” Mim said, grinning. “She said Mom is turning Eagle Hill into a boardinghouse.”

“Allen Turner paid us for staying for the weekend,” Rose said, scribbling down some instructions on a piece of paper.
“He insisted.” She glanced at Bethany, then stopped writing and straightened up, looking at Bethany for a long moment. “You look exhausted. Didn’t you sleep well?”

“Better not ask her that,” Luke said. “I told her she looked terrible and she snapped my head off.”

Bethany frowned at her brother. “I’m ready for this heat wave to break.”

Rose nodded. “It’s supposed to rain Tuesday or Wednesday. Here’s the phone number to reach me at Delia Stoltz’s. Leave a message and I’ll call back.” She put down the pencil and looked out the window. Tobe had returned from saying goodbye to Naomi, escorted by Galen, and went to wait by the car.

Galen came into the kitchen to say goodbye. “Better get going, Rose, if you want to beat traffic.” He looked at the boys wolfing down pancakes at the kitchen table. “You two, finish up with breakfast. I’ve got some fence repairing that’s waiting on you.”

The boys let out a whoop. Luke and Sammy were always glad to have something to do that involved hammering and making noise. Luke rolled up the last pancake, shoved it into his shirt pocket, and shot out the door so fast he made Bethany blink. Sammy followed, a little slower.

Rose smiled as she watched the boys run through the privet to Galen’s. She turned back to Bethany and Mim. “Listen, girls, we’ll try to get back to Eagle Hill as soon as we know what’s going to happen to Tobe.”

“Mom, do you think he’ll have to go to jail?” Mim asked.

Bethany saw Rose and Galen’s eyes meet over Mim’s head. Rose’s eyes said,
This is so complicated. How do I answer?

Galen stepped in. “Tobe says he’s telling the truth. He’s
confessing to any wrong he might have done. The rest is in God’s hands. God’s good hands.”

Rose shot him a grateful look.

It was strange, that wordless communication between a man and a woman who loved each other, the silent signal of caring, the way they checked in with each other. Would Bethany ever have
that
with someone? Or was she destined to make terrible choices? Like her father did. Like Tobe still was. Maybe it was a Schrock family trait. Fixed.

A few minutes later, Bethany and Mim waved to everyone in the car as it drove down the driveway. Galen went back to his farm. Watching the car turn onto the road, Bethany stroked Chase’s thick fur, trying to stamp down the worry she felt over Tobe.

“Bethany? Are you listening to me?”

She startled. She hadn’t even realized Mim was still beside her. “What?”

“I said I’m going to be up in my room working on my Mrs. Miracle column. It’s due for Tuesday’s edition and I’m way behind because of the community garden work. You can still drop it by the newspaper office, can’t you?”

“Yes, sure, I’ll take care of it. By the way, I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

“Where are you going? I thought you had to work at the Sisters’ House.”

“They canceled me for tomorrow—they have the Sisters’ Bee at Edith Fisher’s and it makes them nervous when I’m working in the house and they’re not around to supervise.”

“I thought Naomi wanted you to join that quilting bee.”

“I haven’t decided yet. Besides, I’m going on an errand with Geena tomorrow.” She hadn’t actually asked Geena yet,
but she was hoping it would be all right. “I’ll be gone most of the day. You’ll be okay, won’t you?”

Mim looked a little worried. “All day? Watching Luke and Sammy all day long?” She scrunched up her face. “
Luke?
All day long? He doesn’t pay me any mind.”

“Galen and Jimmy can be in charge of those two.” She frowned. “Don’t you have a column to write?”

Mim ran up the porch steps and disappeared through the kitchen door.

Chase nudged Bethany’s hand, then stood there staring up at her with a worried look in his big round eyes. She bent down to rub his ears, his favorite thing. “Try not to fret, old pal. Tobe will be home soon.” But she wasn’t sure of that at all. She chewed on her lip, thinking. What if Jake went free and Tobe ended up in jail? Wouldn’t that just beat all?

Again the thought of Jake Hertzler filled Bethany with such a huge prickling of red spikes that she almost couldn’t catch her breath. She still couldn’t get her head around the news that he had stolen money from her father’s company. How could he
do
such awful things? Her family had been good to him. Anger added to anger.

It seemed to Bethany that a chain of actions, of people offering trust to Jake without expecting him to earn it, had resulted in the trouble they were facing. She should never have introduced Jake to her father . . . her father should not have given Jake access to so much of Schrock Investments before he knew him well—he had left the cat to guard the cream. Tobe shouldn’t have accepted Jake’s rationale about the diminishing money at the bank when he sensed something wasn’t adding up. Jimmy Fisher should never have trusted Jake so easily when buying a horse from him . . . and of course
she was at fault for falling prey to Jake’s charms. The start of it all was Jake Hertzler.

All her life, Bethany was taught to love her enemies. Jake had become her first true enemy. How could she forgive him? It wasn’t over—Jake kept on hurting the people she loved. She hated him, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to hate, that it was a sin. And she hated herself for harboring such darkness.

Standing there with the morning sun pouring down hard on her head, Bethany had half a mind to stomp to the phone shanty and call him. Why not? Why shouldn’t she? She would! She would call him and tell him just what she thought of him.

Hands shaking, she dialed the number for Jake’s cell.

As she waited to see if the number still worked, if it would connect, the first wave of doubt floated along. Maybe it wasn’t smart to call Jake and tell him off. Maybe she should hang up.
Tell him off. Don’t tell him off.
Back and forth she went, a battle between anger and good sense.

But the call connected and clicked right over to voice mail. She took a deep breath and banished those niggling doubts. “Jake, this is Bethany. Bethany Schrock. My brother Tobe came home. He told us what you did to my father. To all of us. He said you were trying to frame him by giving those books I found for you to that SEC lawyer.”

She felt a surge of fresh anger, invigorating anger. “How
could
you? How could you be so cruel to people who trusted you? My father, my brother, all the investors—and then Jimmy Fisher and that horse.” She was on a roll. It felt good to tell Jake just how she felt. She never had before. It felt so good! “You’re not going to get away with this, Jake. It’s catch
ing up with you, but fast. People like you think they can do anything to Plain people because we won’t defend ourselves. Well, you’re wrong. Tobe’s going now to tell that SEC lawyer everything you’ve done.”

She stopped and sighed, the fight slipping away from her. “Shootfire! What’s the point? I’m just wasting my time. You don’t care about anybody but yourself.” She slammed the phone down and marched out of the shanty. She was officially
done
with Jake Hertzler.

If Mim had more time, she would ponder what was going on with her sister lately. One minute Bethany was fine, the next minute she was distant and preoccupied, the next—she was stomping mad. But there was no sense in stewing over Bethany’s mental state. At least not at this moment. Mim had to get her Mrs. Miracle column prepared for today’s deadline. Just saying the word filled her with a secret delight. She had a deadline!