Home by Dark. Marta Perry
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“You don’t need to be walking me...us...home at all.” Rachel’s pointed chin set stubbornly.
“Sure I do.” He nodded to Mandy, already ten yards ahead of them on the sidewalk. “Mandy has my dog.”
“You know perfectly well—” She stopped, maybe realizing how silly it sounded. “Oh, all right.” She surrendered the bag. “If you must.”
Satisfied, he fell into step with her. “You know, I’ll start thinking you don’t like me if you keep going on this way.”
“I—” She stopped, seeming to change her mind about what she was going to say. “I wouldn’t want people to start talking. That’s all.”
“Because I walked beside you and carried your groceries?” He raised an eyebrow. “We’re not ten, and I’m not carrying your books home from school.”
The warm peach of her skin seemed to deepen. “No. But you know how people talk in Deer Run. You just said it yourself, remember?”
“True.” He could hardly deny it. “But you can’t stop meeting old friends because of what people might say. I saw you and Meredith getting reacquainted,” he added quickly, before she could remind him that they’d never exactly been friends.
“It was nice to see Meredith again.” She took the diversion with a slight frown. “I was a little surprised she’s still living at home.”
“Are you kidding? With that mother of hers? Margo King has been a professional hypochondriac all her life. She used that to keep poor old John dancing attendance on her, and now that he’s gone, she’s guilted Meredith into taking his place.”
Rachel darted a glance his way. “Cynical, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I call ’em as I see ’em. If you’re around them very long, you’ll see for yourself. Everyone in town knows what Meredith’s mother is like except Meredith.”
“I doubt that everyone in town is as cynical as you are.”
There was that word again. Was he cynical? He didn’t think so. At least, not about Rachel and her daughter.
“Just wait and see,” he said. “By the way, what’s going on with that little brother of yours?”
“Benj?” Rachel’s deep blue eyes widened. “Why? What have you heard?” The questions had a sharp edge of emotion. Was it fear? Surely not.
“Take it easy.” He lifted his free hand in a gesture of surrender. “I just meant that I expected him to stop around and mow the grass today, but he didn’t show up. Why are you worried about him?” He turned the question back on her.
“I’m not.” She made an unsuccessful attempt to mask the anxiety in her face.
“You know, you’re really not very good at telling fibs. You ought to practice a bit more.”
“I’m not interested in telling fibs.” The color came up in her cheeks again. “I don’t know why Benj didn’t show up. I’ll speak to him about it. He shouldn’t slack off on his work.”
“Spoken like a true big sister,” he said. “You don’t need to bug the boy about it. But you are worried about him, aren’t you?”
He waited, wondering if she’d try to lie again.
Rachel was silent for a moment, her gaze seeming fixed on her daughter. Mandy had stopped on the walk in front of Jeannette Walker’s B and B, and she seemed to be telling Duke something to which he listened intently, his head cocked to one side.
Finally Rachel shook her head, sighing a little. “Maybe I’m imagining things. After all, I don’t know Benj very well.” The words contained a wealth of regret. “But he seems to be frightened of something. And he’s keeping it secret, whatever it is.”
He nodded, unable to dismiss her concern. “I’ve noticed it, as well. He’s not in trouble with your dad, is he?”
“Not that I know of. I just wish he’d talk to me about it. Or somebody else, if not me.”
“Don’t start blaming yourself. Teenage boys don’t confide readily in anyone older. Probably teenage girls are the same, but I can only speak for the boys.” He tried a smile, hoping to lighten the moment.
“You were never an Amish teenager.”
“Boys are boys, Amish or Englisch,” he retorted. Maybe he didn’t want to start talking about being a teenager with Rachel. There were too many minefields in that topic, like what had happened between them one summer afternoon. “Looks like Duke’s making himself right at home.”
He nodded toward Mason House, looming ahead of them like a monster ready to consume anyone foolish enough to count on it. Duke had flopped to his side on the porch floor, with Mandy sitting next to him. His head rested on her leg, and he wore a blissful expression as she petted him.
“Mandy loves dogs. She’ll be pretending he’s hers in no time at all.”
“She ought to have a puppy,” he said, hardly thinking of what he was saying because he was so lost in Rachel’s expression when she looked at her child. “You had plenty of animals to take care of at that age.”
“I lived on a farm,” she reminded him. “If we got a dog I’d have to be certain it wouldn’t disturb the guests. Or frighten them.”
“You could keep a dog away from the guests, I’d think. And it would be a little added security for you and Mandy, if you’re determined to stay here alone.”
“There’s nothing to be frightened of in Deer Run. I don’t need a dog for security.”
He held the gate open for her. “Times have changed. Even Deer Run is affected by the modern world, whether it looks like it or not.”
Rachel seemed to shrug that off. She stopped at the porch steps and held out her hands for the grocery bag. “Thank you. I’ll take that now.”
“I’ll carry it in for you.” He went up the steps. “Maybe you’d be kind enough to give Duke a drink before we finish our walk,” he suggested, aiming the words more at Mandy than her mother.
“I’ll do it.” Mandy leaped to her feet. “Hurry and open the door, Mommy. I have to get Duke a pan of water.”
Rachel sent him a glance that mingled reproach with giving in. “All right. Let me get my keys.”
He had his hand on the knob while she was fumbling in her bag for the keys. It turned under the pressure of his fingers, and the stained-glass paneled door swung open.
“Looks as if you forgot to lock it,” he commented, pushing the door the rest of the way.
Rachel stood where she was, blue eyes darkening.