An Unbroken Heart (10 page)

She turned away from the clothesline, but instead of picking up the plastic basket,
she turned it over and sat down, using the basket as a stool. It was too nice to
go inside and start lunch. She wanted to spend a few moments in the fresh air, alone
with her thoughts and the twittering sounds of the birds that were taking turns at
the three feeders she'd filled up yesterday. She loved to watch the different species—chickadees,
swallows, finches, and her favorite, brown creepers. Those little birds were adorable.

After a few moments she stood, picked up the laundry basket, and began to head inside.
As she turned she saw a man walking up the driveway. She frowned. She wasn't expecting
anyone. As he neared her jaw dropped. “Asa?”

Her brother's childhood friend waved as he strode toward her. He smiled, stopping
in front of her and shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Irene kept gaping. She hadn't seen Asa for five years, since he left Birch Creek
for a job opportunity in Indiana. His family had followed him soon after. Asa had
been sixteen, and even then he had been the most gorgeous boy she'd ever seen. She
wasn't the only one who thought so—every one of her friends had a crush on him at
one time or another. But he wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. A stunningly beautiful
one, with black wavy hair, thick eyebrows, and pale gray eyes surrounded by so many
dark, long eyelashes it wasn't fair. Still, she'd never felt an attraction to him
and had always considered him part of their family, at least
until he had moved away.
At twenty, he was two years younger than she was, and she'd always seen him as her
little brother. There was nothing little about him now.

“Hey, Irene,” Asa said, his voice deeper than she remembered, his gaze flickering
off
to
the side. That part of him hadn't changed. He'd always tended to be quiet
and
a
little shy. Now he also seemed unsure around her. Odd, considering how close
they'd
been
growing up.

She had to break this strange ice between them. Grinning, she went to him. “Is that
any way to greet me?” she asked, throwing her arms around him and squeezing tight.
He hugged her back, harder than she'd expected. His embrace was almost desperate.
When she pulled away, the curve of his smile was a little bigger, reminding her of
the kid she used to know.

“
Gut
to see you too,” he said.

Irene watched as his gaze surveyed the house and yard. A couple of chickens were
near the front flower bed, pecking at the ground. “Not much has changed around here
I see.”

She nodded but didn't say anything. While outwardly their community seemed to remain
the same, everything had changed. Asa would learn soon enough what had happened to
Bishop Troyer and Solomon. She bit her bottom lip at the thought of Sol Troyer. She
had been interested in him for a while. It was hard not to be, with his gorgeous
green eyes and mischievous smile. But Sol was trouble—and she had vowed to stay away
from him.

She pushed the Troyers from her mind. “What are you doing here? Are you back for
a visit?”

“
Nee
. I'm back for
gut
.”

Irene pushed one of the strings from her
kapp
over her
shoulder. “Andrew will be
glad to hear that. What about the rest of
yer familye
? Have they returned too?”

“They're staying in Indiana.”

She waited for him to give more of an explanation. When he didn't she decided not
to pry, despite her curiosity. Andrew would talk to him soon, and she'd rather badger
her brother for information than quiz Asa. He was more at ease than he'd been a few
minutes ago, but he still wasn't the confident, easygoing teenager she remembered.

“Is Andrew here?” Asa asked.

“
Nee
. He's out working.”

“Still a farrier?”

“
Ya
, and he probably will be for the rest of his life.”

Asa nodded. “I remember how much he liked the job when he was apprenticing. Can you
let him know I'm in town? I'm staying at
mei
parents' old
haus
.”

She looked at him askance. “I thought they sold the place.”

“They did.” He didn't add more details.

Irene had never thought of Asa as mysterious, but he was doing a good job of being
intriguing. Again, she kept her questions to herself. “You're welcome to stay for
lunch. I was just getting ready to make some roast beef sandwiches.”

“That sounds
gut
, but I can't stay. I've got a lot of work to do at home.” He removed
his hands from his pockets and took a few steps back. “Tell Andrew if he's got time
he's welcome to stop by. I'll be around.”

“I will. Asa?”

He paused and looked at her.

“Welcome back.”

Flashing her a grin that would easily have all the single
women in Birch Creek swooning,
he nodded before walking away.

Irene watched him leave. Why couldn't she be attracted to someone like Asa? She was
starting to feel the pressure to find someone, especially since most of her friends
were either married, engaged, or in a relationship. The pickings in Birch Creek
were slim since the young women outnumbered the young men. Very few males were unattached
in their small district.

Again, Sol unceremoniously popped into her mind. Before he'd admitted to the entire
congregation that he'd been a thief and a drunkard, she thought there might be a
chance for something between them. Even now she could feel a slight pull of attraction
whenever she thought of him. Eventually that would go away. At least she hoped it
would. She wouldn't get involved with a man of questionable integrity. Her father
had already abandoned her. She wouldn't allow herself to be hurt that deeply again.

She picked up the laundry basket and headed back to the house, determined to put
Sol out of her mind.

Easier said than done.

CHAPTER 6

L
ANGDON

C
ameron paced back and forth in his tiny apartment as he waited for Mrs. Rodriguez
to arrive. He'd put Lacy down for the night, although she would probably wake up
in a few hours around midnight. Once she was asleep, he'd called Mrs. R., leaving
a message on her voice mail. He'd decided earlier that evening to tell her he was
leaving. He didn't want to spring the news on her at the last minute.

A few moments later he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and she burst inside.

“I got your message,” she said, panting slightly after climbing the flight of stairs
from her apartment to his. “Is everything all right? Nothing's wrong with Lacy, is
it?”

“No,” he said, surprised at her panic.

“Thank God.” She collapsed into his only living room chair as Cameron shut the door.
She fanned herself, her bright green
shirt and navy-blue pants clashing with the
orange-and-brown-plaid chair. “When you said you needed to see me and it was important,
I thought something had happened to the baby.”

“She's fine. I'm sorry I worried you.” He sat down on the sofa near the chair. It
would be so hard to leave this woman, who had been more of a mother to him than his
own mom ever was. He tugged at a loose upholstery thread, unsure how to tell her
he was leaving.

“Cameron?” She leaned forward. “You look upset. Just tell me what's going on.”

He met her concerned gaze. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Rodriguez. I need to break my lease.”

Her fingers touched her red lips. Then she put her hands on each arm of the chair.
“You're moving?”

“Yes.”

She touched her mouth again, as if in thought. “Cameron, if you're having trouble
with the rent, I can lower it. I own the building. I can do whatever I want.”

Her generosity touched him. “The rent is fine. More than reasonable, actually. You
should probably raise it after I leave.”

“I don't care about money. I care about my tenants.” She leaned back in the chair.
“Where are you going?”

“South.” He refused to be more specific. He didn't want to drag her into his mess
if the police came around asking about him.

“South Langdon?” she said, her tone hopeful.

He almost smiled. There wasn't a South Langdon, but he understood what she meant.
“Farther south than that.” He wished he could tell her he had family somewhere in
Texas or Florida. Or friends. Or a job. But he didn't want to completely lie to her.
And he had decided to go to West Virginia, which was technically south from here.
“I need a fresh start.” It was the closest he could come to the truth.

She angled her plump body toward him. “It's the memories, isn't it?” She sighed.
“When my Diego passed away ten years ago, I wanted a fresh start too. But no matter
how hard you try, you can't outrun the past. Or the pain. They'll always be there,
although the ache will fade with time.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “And
you'll always carry the beautiful memories you have here, in your heart. I know it
seems impossible right now, but someday you'll be able to think about your Mackenzie
with joy instead of sorrow.”

He looked away, stupid tears stinging his eyes again. How many times had he cried
since Mackenzie's funeral? He'd been alone with her before the cremation while the
funeral director's wife took care of Lacy. There had been no service. No visitation.
No phone calls, even though Cameron had reached out to Mackenzie's mother and told
her what happened. He'd gotten her voice mail. He hadn't wanted to leave that devastating
message. Although he'd never met the woman and knew Mackenzie had hated her for
caring more about scoring drugs than about her, he felt a duty to let her mother
know she'd lost her daughter. He shouldn't have been surprised not to get a call
back.

There was no one to mourn Mackenzie but Cameron. His sweet wife had deserved more
than that, more than the short, mostly unhappy life she'd had. No, he didn't believe
the ache would ever go away.

Neither would the guilt for what he'd done. He would never think about his wife without
anger, or about the buggy accident without guilt.

Mrs. Rodriguez looked up at the ceiling, said something in Spanish he didn't understand,
then peered at him. “I realize it's not my place to pry into your business, but I
have to say my piece. I know you aren't religious . . .”

Cameron drew back. Mrs. Rodriguez was a faithful attendee of her local Catholic church.
Both Cameron and Mackenzie had never attended church, although when they were in
the group home a pastor came by every once in a while to talk to the kids. Cameron
usually ignored him. If God was real he wouldn't have let Cameron or Mackenzie get
stuck in foster care. They would have had loving parents and families, not broken
ones.
God would have never let my wife die.

“. . . but I promise you, God is telling me to tell you that you need to stay.”

Okay, that was a surprise. Cameron had never heard of God directly speaking to someone.
He'd always thought of him—which was rarely—as some intangible spirit thing hovering
above, waiting to punish people. Like a ghost on steroids or something. “He's talking
to you right now?”

“Not in words so much. But I feel it in my heart. And when I feel something in my
heart, I know God has put it there.”

Cameron nodded, but more out of politeness than agreement. He respected Mrs. Rodriguez
too much to dismiss her beliefs, even though he didn't accept them. “I appreciate
the thought—”

“It's not a thought, Cameron. It's real. If you leave Langdon, you'll bring trouble
on yourself.”

This wasn't how he'd expected the conversation to go. He'd assumed she might try
to convince him to stay, but not with some kind of religious mumbo jumbo. Besides,
how much more
trouble could happen? He'd already lost his wife.
And taken the lives
of two innocent people.

If he stayed, the risk was too great that the cops would figure out he was the one
who had plowed into the Amish buggy almost six weeks ago. He'd been thinking about
Mackenzie as he'd left for work that morning. Then he realized he'd forgotten his
wallet at home and had to turn back. Even now he could remember his anger—how his
foot pressed on the pedal, how his car raced down the winding road as if the speed
would pull the agony and fury out of his body. By the time the buggy came into view,
he hit the brakes too late. His head had slammed against the steering wheel of his
beat-up Chevy truck. Panicked, he'd backed up and driven off, blood dripping down
his face.

He called in sick to work and spent the day freaking out in his apartment, trying
to figure out what to do. All he could think about was Lacy and how his arrest would
put her into the system that had nearly broken him if he hadn't met Mackenzie. His
daughter would be alone, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Not because of his
careless stupidity.