Carrie stiffened. “I thought I heard Steelhead leave.”
Abel’s smile dimmed. “He did. He, uh, took Emma out on a motorcycle ride.”
Carrie’s eyes went wide. Emma was starting to worry her a little.
Abel walked over to her. “Carrie, I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. If I had been here, the fire wouldn’t have started.” He looked at her bandaged hands. “Are your hands awfully sore?”
She put her hands behind her back. “Not so much. Yonnie put some ointment on them that helped.”
“You believe me, don’t you?” He took a step closer to her, searching her eyes. “You know I wouldn’t have started the fire.”
She brushed past him to start putting away the dishes that Emma had washed.
“Carrie, look at me!”
She stopped. “I know you didn’t set that fire, Abel.” She put the dishes down and fished something out of her apron pocket. She opened her palm—there was Veronica McCall’s little black clothespin cell phone.
Abel looked puzzled. He reached out and picked up the cell phone. “Where did you find this?”
“I spent the afternoon raking through the ashes in the barn.” He turned it over in his hand. “Do you know what this means?”
“I do.” Her chin lifted a notch. “I know
exactly
what it means. You’re trying to protect Veronica McCall. Same way you tried to protect Daniel.”
He couldn’t have looked more stunned if Carrie had clubbed him on the back of the skull with a two-by-four. “Protect her?” He took a few paces around the kitchen, rubbing his jaw, thinking something out. Stopping with his hands on his hips, he said again, “You think I’m trying to
protect
Veronica?” He threw his hands up. “What, you think I’m sweet on her?”
“I’ve seen you in her car, kissing!”
“One time, Carrie.” He held a finger in the air. “She tried kissing me that one time and I put an end to it!” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.“I’ve been trying and trying to teach her about what it means to have a faith!”
Carrie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “I’ve seen her coming out of your workshop once or twice, late at night.”
“That’s where I keep my Bible and books.” He scratched his head. “At least, I did until the fire.” He took a step closer to her and put his hands on her upper arms. “How is it everyone seems to know but you that I—”
A knock on the front door interrupted him. He sighed, dropped his arms, and went to answer it.
For a split second, Carrie worried Veronica McCall had arrived, but the visitor at the door was Grace. She followed Abel into the kitchen.
Carrie gasped when she saw her. “Your hair!” This time, it was purple.
Grace’s hand flew to her hair. “What? Is it too much?”
“No, no,” Abel said soothingly, pulling a chair out for Grace. “It’s very nice.” He flashed a warning look at Carrie to stop staring at Grace’s purple hair. “Carrie, why don’t you sit down? Grace said she has something she wants to tell us.”
Grace tossed her bulging backpack on the kitchen table. “Dang, that’s heavy. I can’t stay long. But I need to show you something.”
“Did you bicycle here carrying that?” Carrie asked.
“Yup,” Grace said, all business. She pulled out a big steel tube from her backpack, and a stack of papers.
“What’s all this?” Carrie asked.
“When I heard about the fire,” Grace said, “something just kept bugging me—like stuff wasn’t adding up. Yesterday afternoon, Veronica came rushing into her office. She was acting kind of odd—I mean, she acts all ADD and OCD a lot, but this was even more so, like she’d overdosed on sugar—talking loud and saying hello to everyone. Like she wanted everyone to know she was there. She asked me what time it was. Twice, she asked, like she wanted me to remember. Then she closed her door to make a phone call, but she was in such a tizzy she forgot to close the back door. Her office has two doors. I heard her talking to someone to report a fire burning. I could have sworn I heard her give Carrie’s address. Then she made another call—I heard her say something about a convicted arsonist named Abel Miller, violating his parole.” She pulled out a stack of papers. “So this afternoon, I went online and printed out the telephone bill that had yesterday’s call log. Busted!” She waved the bill in the air. “She made a call to the fire department to report the fire and to the police department to tell them about Abel.” She handed Carrie the bills.
Carrie and Abel exchanged a glance.
“There’s more.” Grace reached down and pulled out a metal tube. “These are the properties adjacent to Honor Mansion, the very ones Veronica is chomping at the bit to buy.” Popping the cap, she tipped it over and out rolled a set of architectural blueprints. “You need to see these.” She unrolled the blueprints on the table—plans drawn for Bonnatt Company’s golf course.
“Carrie,” Abel said, pointing to one section. “Look at how they’ve incorporated the Stoltzfuses’ land.”
“Where their barn was before it was burned down,” Carrie said.
“Yup,” Grace said. “The Stoltzfuses sold those couple of acres to Veronica.”
Carrie and Abel exchanged a look. When the Stoltzfuses’ barn was rebuilt, it was built closer to the house, but it was a smart thing to do. A good opportunity to move it, in fact. That original barn was so far from the house that a street ran between the house and barn. Abner and Ada had always complained about their barn’s location.
“The Stoltzfuses never knew about the golf course,” Grace explained. “Veronica gave them twice as much as it was worth and they wanted to help their son in Indiana buy a farm.” Her cheeks went pink. “I, uh, happened to be eavesdropping when they were in Veronica’s office.” She pointed to another area on the blueprints. “Look here.”
Grace pointed to surrounding properties, neighbors to Cider Mill Farm. “They’re going to need a few other chunks of Amish farmland too.” She put her finger on Cider Mill Farm’s property. “Now look at your farm.”
The golf course incorporated
all
of Cider Mill Farm. It was as plain as day.
“Grace, did you take these from Veronica’s office?” Abel asked.
“Yup, and I need to get them back before she returns to the office later. She’s at a business dinner with Bonnatt tonight.” She rolled the papers up again. “I don’t know what you want to do with this information, but I knew I had to get it to you.”
“Thank you, Grace,” Carrie said.
Grace bit her lip. “There’s one more thing.” The anxious tone in her voice made Carrie and Abel look up sharply. “I’m sunk if I lose my job. I still have court fees to pay from the accident and I’m still on probation and if I get fired, then—”
“Not to worry,” Abel said. “We won’t involve you.”
After Grace left, Abel came back into the kitchen, shaking his head.
Carrie sat at the kitchen table, leaning on her elbows. “Could this be true? Would Veronica McCall do such a thing?”
“Could and would.” He sat down in the chair across from her. “The deacon said something tonight that made it all so clear. He said, ‘A farm is not a farm without its barn.’ Get rid of the barns and you have an easier time getting rid of the farmers.” He leaned back in his chair. “She knew enough about the Amish to know that.”
Abel was deep in thought, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. His fingers froze. “And someone had tipped the police off that I had done jail time for fires. It’s like Veronica knew just enough to try to pin the fires on me. The police were talking about holding me for forty-eight hours—and calling my parole officer in Ohio because I would be violating parole even if they didn’t press charges. In the nick of time, Steelhead came in, but they weren’t too impressed with an alibi provided by another ex-con. But then Solomon Riehl and Mattie came in and the police decided two witnesses cleared me.”
Mattie was with Sol? Carrie felt her mouth go dry. Emma had told Carrie she had seen Sol at Central Market, hanging around Mattie’s stall, nearly every time she worked there lately.
Abel started drumming his fingers again. “But how could Veronica possibly have known why I had been in jail? I never told her any of that. I never even told her I’d
been
in jail.”
Distracted, Carrie was only half listening, then the full sense of what Abel just said struck her. “Oh Abel, I told her!” She swallowed hard, and told him about the day in Veronica’s office when she asked her to look up Abel Miller on the computer. “I’m sorry. I had a dreadful feeling about that as I left her office.”
He raised an eyebrow as he listened, then gave a slight shake of his head. “It’s not a secret. It would’ve been easy for her to find information.”
Abel and Carrie disagreed about what to do next. They went back and forth, but Carrie wouldn’t budge. “I won’t do it, Abel. It’s not our way to seek vengeance.”
“I’m talking about justice, not vengeance.”
“How many times have we said the prayer, ‘Not my will but thine be done’?”
Abel threw up his hands. His voice had an edge of impatience to it. “Carrie, if we don’t stop her, she’ll just do it again. You saw those blueprints. She’s after more land. How many more people have to lose their barns?”
Carrie knew he was right; Veronica McCall wouldn’t quit. She stood up and went to gaze out the kitchen window, crossing her arms. “It’s not our way, Abel. We don’t pick and choose how and when we trust in God. We either trust him or we don’t.” She surprised herself, saying those words, but she knew she believed them to be true.
Abel leaned forward, kneading his strong hands together. He was quiet for a full minute, and then he rubbed his hand over his face. He stood and took a few strides toward her, his hands hooked on his hips. “Du machst mich ferhoodled.”
You make me crazy.
Her eyes met his and held just a beat too long, and before she realized what was happening, he leaned toward her and his lips, so soft and warm, found hers. She thought she might be dreaming, even as she felt the grip of his strong arms slip around her waist. He kissed her with such sweetness it was almost unbearable, a kiss that lasted forever and was over too soon.
Abel pulled away first and looked into her eyes, whispering, “I was trying to tell you something before Grace arrived: why is it everyone seems to know how I feel about you . . . except for you?”
Just as he was about to kiss her again, she heard Steelhead’s motorcycle. By the time Emma had climbed off the motorcycle and came up the stairs to the kitchen door, Abel was already opening it for her. Her eyes darted from Abel’s to Carrie’s, sensing the tension in the air, as if they were angry.
“What’s happened? What did Abel say?”
Abel’s lips tightened. He adjusted the brim of his black felt hat. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He paused at the door, before giving a nod to Carrie. “It’s been a long day. Sleep well, Carrie.”
Carrie closed the door behind him. She could still feel Abel’s lips on hers, his arms holding her tightly. Slowly, she turned around, then did a double take.
“Emma? Wu is dei Kapp?”
Where is your cap?
A few days after the fire, Carrie took Andy and Yonnie in the buggy over to the Stolztfuses’. It was a warm spring day and Andy was eager to see their new colt, born just a day before. After lunch, Ada Stoltzfus shooed Carrie off.
“You go on home. I’m sure you have lots to do. I’ll have Abner bring Yonnie and Andy back later today, after we have a good visit.” She handed Carrie a few jars of homemade raspberry jam. Carrie smiled, accepting her kindness.
Carrie was eager to go; she had plenty of chores waiting for her back at Cider Mill Farm. She saw Abel working in the carriage house, so she left Old-Timer tied to the hitching post and hurried to the house to start dinner. Ever since that kiss in the kitchen, she had been taking pains to avoid being alone with Abel. As she hung up her bonnet on the peg, she heard a strange noise coming from Emma’s room. Cautiously, she tiptoed upstairs and opened Emma’s door. In the bed were Emma and Steelhead. Carrie backed up and knocked into the wall. Steelhead and Emma looked up, horrified.
Carrie ran downstairs and outside and burst through the open door of the carriage house, shouting Abel’s name.
He dropped Old-Timer’s water bucket and spun around fast. “What’s happened?”
Carrie was breathing hard, in such a state that she couldn’t speak, which only alarmed Abel more.
“What’s wrong?”
She put the palm of her hand against her pounding heart, as if to quiet it. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “It’s . . . it’s . . . Steelhead is in . . . bed!”
Abel looked at her as if she were speaking another language. She took a gulpy breath. “With Emma!”
The kitchen door banged open and out flew Steelhead, running toward the carriage house. He had dressed hastily and forgotten his shirt and shoes altogether. He was still putting one arm into a coat.
“Carrie!” Steelhead shouted, hopping on the gravel driveway as if it were made of hot coals. “It’s not what you think!”
She whirled around to avoid looking at Steelhead’s hairy chest, embroidered with another large tattoo. “Steelhead, what have you done?” she asked, her voice breaking. “How could you do such a thing?”
“I couldn’t help it,” Steelhead sputtered. “Emma is, well, she’s like no other woman I’ve ever met.”
Carrie spun around, then covered her eyes. “Zip your coat!” Muffled from behind her hands, she asked, “How could you take . . . advantage . . . of my sister?”
Steelhead put up his hands in warning. “I didn’t! I would never hurt Emma.” He took a deep breath. “I did right by her. We got married. We got our license, the other day, at the county courthouse.” He gave Abel a guilty look. “We waited three days, like the law says to do, then this morning we went to the Amish-Mennonite preacher in town, to get married. Proper-like. In the eyes of God.”
Carrie reached a hand against the beam, feeling as if she was nearly going to pass out. Abel’s arm encircled her waist, supporting her, as he led her to sit on a hay bale.
Steelhead came closer. “I love her, Carrie. From the minute I saw her, I knew. This was the only girl in the world for me.”
Carrie looked at Abel. “Did Yonnie give him her tea?”