An Unbroken Heart (24 page)

She flinched against his verbal onslaught, but she held her ground. “I didn't want
to disappoint you.”

“You don't think yesterday was a disappointment?” He slammed his fist against his
chest. “You don't think you hurt me?”

She could feel the pain radiating off him in waves. “I know I hurt you.” Her voice
rose. “I should have said something sooner.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn't you? Why did you agree to marry me when you didn't
want to?”

“I . . .” She had to tell him the truth. “I didn't want you to take care of me anymore.”

He ran his hand over his face. “That's what a husband does. He takes care of his
frau
and
familye
. That would have been
mei
job.”

“I know. That's the problem.”

Andrew crossed his arms again. “Here's what I think the problem is.
Yer
feelings
have changed, and you were too scared to tell me you didn't love me anymore.”

She had been scared, but not about that. “That's not true. I said I love you.”

“And you expect me to believe it?” He shook his head. “Maybe you can't admit it to
yourself. All I know is that you realized you don't want to be stuck with me for
the rest of
yer
life.”

Joanna went to him, his words slicing her. “How can you even think such a thing?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” He turned away. “Leave me alone,” he said in
a thick, pain-filled voice.

“I can't do that, Andrew. I want to fix this. I want us to be together again.”

“But I don't want to be with you.” He shoved past her and headed for the house.

Her toes dug into her shoes so she wouldn't fall. There was no mending this. She
could see that now. She'd hurt him too deeply. But one thing would never change.
She would love him for the rest of her life.

CHAPTER 13

O
n Thursday morning the sun was well past the horizon by the time Cameron was on
the road. It was tough to say good-bye to Mrs. Rodriguez, but Cameron knew the faster
he put the miles between him and Langdon, the better for him and Lacy. He should
reach the West Virginia border by lunchtime, and then he would be outside of Charleston
by late afternoon. Last night after Lacy was asleep, he searched on his phone for
jobs around the Charleston area. He was qualified for several, and he was able to
apply online for one of them.

He wasn't too far from Langdon when he ran into a detour. He groaned as he followed
the signs for the next fifteen minutes. What kind of backward detour was this? All
he wanted was to get to the freeway, but the signs kept taking him farther away.
He seized the steering wheel when he realized he was in Birch Creek.

His stomach knotted as he saw a black buggy, and he took special care to drive around
it, not just because Lacy was in the
car. Making sure he was doing the speed limit,
he
glanced
in the rearview mirror at her car seat, which was facing backward. His
truck
was
small and old, but it was a king cab and had a backseat. He couldn't see
her
face,
but she'd been sound asleep when he put her in the seat earlier that morning.
He'd
fed
and diapered her, dressing her in a pink one-piece fleece outfit, a gift
from
Mrs.
Rodriguez.

The truck suddenly lurched, and he heard a loud popping sound. Lacy started to cry
as Cameron gripped the steering wheel. “It's all right, sweetheart,” he ground out,
guiding the vehicle to the side of the road. He turned off the ignition and leaned
over to check on her. She had settled back down again, her eyes drifting shut. “Good
girl,” he whispered, then pocketed his keys. He climbed out of the car, closing the
door quietly. When he saw what happened, he swore under his breath.

A flat tire. And he didn't have a spare.

Great. Just great. He thought about his low reserves. He needed a tow and a tire,
and he could barely afford either one of them.

Cameron cursed again and pulled out his cell phone, staring at the screen. No bars.
He held up the phone and pivoted, trying to find a signal. Nothing. He glanced around
and saw a few white houses without shutters spaced out along the street. What he
didn't see were cars parked in the driveways. If that hadn't clued him in that he
was on a predominantly Amish road, the lines of wash hanging and swaying in the fall
breeze did.

He tried to stem his panic. He was stuck in the last place he wanted to be. He had
two choices—he could backtrack on the road on foot until he had a signal, or he could
knock on one of the doors and see if he could borrow their phone. He
knew enough
about the Amish from working at Barton Plastics to know they used phones sometimes.
Some of the Amish guys even carried around cells, although he'd never seen them chatting
on them.

He shoved his useless phone into the pocket of his jeans, went to the truck, and
opened the back door. He took Lacy from the car seat and headed for the nearest house,
cradling her tiny body against his shoulder. Somehow she remained asleep.

As he walked up the gravel driveway to a small, simple house, a calico cat fell into
step beside him. His sneakers ground against the small stones. The sound seemed to
echo in the quiet of his surroundings. Instead of the thrum of traffic, he heard
the soft lowing of a cow. He saw two horses in a small corral, munching on stubbly
grass. He heard birds twittering, smelled the scent of burning wood in the air from
nearby chimneys. Everything seemed to reach his senses in a way he'd never experienced
before. Living in the city all his life, even a small one like Langdon, had numbed
him to nature.

He tried to steady his nerves as he climbed up the steps to the wooden front porch.
A planter filled with orange and purple mums was near the door. Otherwise the porch
was cleared off, without a speck of dirt or a stray leaf. Cameron knocked on the
screen door and waited. No answer. He knocked again. Lacy rubbed her cheek against
his shoulder. She would be waking up any moment now.

He was about to leave when the door opened. An Amish woman looked at him, her light
blue eyes wide and wary. She was young, possibly his age, wearing a white bonnet-looking
hat and a light blue, long-sleeved dress, which was typical of what Amish women wore
around here. He couldn't help but give her
a once-over, her odd way of dressing making
him curious, and noticed that she was barefoot. Realizing he was staring, he lifted
up his head and met her questioning gaze. “Hi. I've got a flat tire and my cell
isn't working.” The words came out in a rush, and she started to frown at the same
time Lacy began to fuss. He rubbed his daughter's back and continued. “Do you have
a phone I could use? I need to call for a tow.”

She regarded him for a moment as Lacy continued to squirm. Patting her back wasn't
working, so he shifted her to the crook of his left arm, his hand on her tiny bottom.
She couldn't be wet again, could she? Or hungry? Was she cold? At this point he had
no idea. The little mewling cries she let out were different from the usual ones.

“A tow?” the woman asked.

He nodded, trying to pay attention to both her and his daughter. “I don't have a
spare tire, so I need a tow truck. And a new tire. Lacy, shhh.” He bounced her gently
in his arms, and that seemed to calm her for a moment.

“Our phone is in the shanty.” She pointed to a small wooden structure at the end
of the driveway. “You're welcome to use it.”

“Thanks.” Lacy's cries turned into high-pitched screams. Yep, she was hungry. “I
have to feed my daughter first,” he said over the noise.
Why did I tell her that?
It wasn't as if the woman needed to know or was even interested. “I'll use the phone
when I'm done.” He started down the steps. He didn't realize the woman was following
him until she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Your wife can come inside and feed the baby.” She hugged her arms. “It's a little
chilly out today. It's much warmer in the house.”

Maybe being cold and hungry was what had Lacy in a snit.
She'd been warm and cozy
in the truck, and he hadn't put a jacket on her. The familiar feeling of being out
of his element rose within him. “It's just me and Lacy. I can feed her in the truck.”
And find her jacket while I'm at it.

“I'm sure that wouldn't be comfortable for either of you.”

She moved to stand in front of him, her expression filled with kindness and concern.
Nice, but not what he needed right now. If she didn't get out of his way, he'd have
to sidestep her. With every second she delayed him, Lacy's cries grew louder, and
with every second he was delayed, he was forced to stay in Birch Creek.

“Why don't I feed her while you make the phone call? I'm pretty good with babies.”

Cameron hesitated, thinking of the foolishness of handing his baby girl over to a
complete stranger. But she was Amish, which meant she was religious and Lacy would
probably be fine. Right now he'd do anything to get to West Virginia faster. “I'll
run and get her bottle out of the truck.”

“I can hold her while you do.”

He paused, still uncertain, then decided to chance it. “I'll be right back.” He put
Lacy in the woman's arms and ran to his truck, looking over his shoulder several
times. The woman didn't move, just rocked Lacy in her arms. From this distance he
could hear Lacy's cries growing in intensity. He grabbed her diaper bag and tiny
jacket and sprinted back to the woman. She was singing to Lacy, the words in a language
he didn't understand. It calmed Lacy a little bit, but she was still crying.

“She's cute.” She looked at Cameron. “So sweet.”

“She is, except when she's hungry.”

“Oh, babies are sweet even when they're hungry. I'm Irene, by the way.”

“Cameron Crawford.” As soon as he said his name, he wanted to kick himself. Then
he calmed down. No one would be looking for him here on a back road in Birch Creek.
He didn't have to worry about her knowing his real name. “Nice to meet you.”

She held out her hand, and Cameron was about to shake it when he realized she was
gesturing to the diaper bag. “Don't worry. I'll take good care of your little one.
You make your phone call.”

For some bizarre reason, Cameron felt a sudden calm come over him. He trusted Irene,
which was weird because he didn't trust strangers easily. It had taken him a good
week to trust Mrs. Rodriguez to watch Lacy after Mackenzie died, and he had known
her for a few months. But Irene had a peaceful disposition, she seemed like a natural
with babies, and he had to get that tow as quickly as possible. He handed the bag
to her, hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake.

Irene slipped it over her shoulder and nodded at the shanty. “Take your time. When
you're done, come inside. I'll be in the living room with . . . Lacy? Is that her
name?”

Cameron nodded. He rushed to the shanty, then came to a skidding stop at the end
of the driveway. He called to Irene, “Is there a phone book in there?”

“
Ya
. It's from last year, but you should be able to find the number you need. I think
you will, anyway—I've never called a tow truck before.”

But Cameron was already opening the shanty door, grateful for a fairly up-to-date
phone book. He glanced over his shoulder one more time to see Irene head for the
house with Lacy. This was going to be the quickest phone call he ever made.

Cameron squeezed inside the shanty, which had one small window that let in cloudy
light from outside. A stronger breeze kicked up, shaking the small booth as he thumbed
through the phone book. He hadn't used one of these since he was a little kid. He
searched through the yellow pages for towing services, found the biggest ad, and
looked at the phone. He couldn't believe they still had a rotary phone, something
else he hadn't seen since he was a little kid. He dialed the number, then tapped
his fingers against the wood-planked wall and waited for someone to answer. The
number was out of order.

He hung up and dialed the next number. This time he got a recorded message. The next
number he chose was also out of order. And the next. He looked at the front of the
book. Eight years out of date. Irene was a little off on the date. Could his luck
be any worse? He dialed the last number and held his breath. Finally, someone answered.

“Connor's Towing,” the gruff voice on the other end said. Static crackled through
the line, and Cameron could tell the guy was on a cell phone.

He explained the situation. “So I'll need a spare too,” he told him.

“You don't have one in your truck? Not too smart of you.”