his hands to both of them. There was enough command in the gesture to enforce an uneasy silence in the room, broken only by the rhythmic hum of a machine by Aunt Rebecca’s bed.
“Enough.” Jake looked equally annoyed with both of them. “Rebecca’s hospital room is no place to have this discussion.”
“That’s right.” Katie tugged Lainey’s arm. “What would your aunt Rebecca think of this fratching? Komm. Sit.”
She wasn’t going to retire from the battle that easily, but Lainey let herself be maneuvered a couple of steps back. Jake, seeming satisfied that she wouldn’t interfere, turned to Zeb.
“Why don’t you and your boys go on home now?” he said. “I’ll stop by the farm this evening and answer any questions you have then. No point in hanging around here, is there?”
Zeb didn’t speak. He glared for another moment, then glanced at his sons and jerked his head toward the door. They filed out without a word.
Katie expelled a sigh of relief when the door swung slowly closed, and her round face creased in a smile. “There now.” She patted Lainey’s arm as if she needed soothing. “You mustn’t mind Zeb. He’s always been cross-grained, and I believe he’s getting worse the older he gets.”
“Aunt Rebecca said once that he was sour where Uncle Isaac was sweet.” Lainey smiled, remembering.
Katie chuckled. “Ja, that’s certain sure. Your gross-onkel was a kind man.”
“Yes, he was.” Like Aunt Rebecca, he had made her welcome in his home, although surely he must have had doubts about taking in a waif who’d been no relative of his at all.
“Komm.” Katie gestured to the chair next to the bed. “Sit and talk to Rebecca. Maybe she’ll hear your voice, even if she doesn’t speak.”
“I’ll be on my way....” Jake turned toward the door.
Lainey grabbed his arm before he could get away. “I’ll be right back,” she assured Katie, and led him out into the hall for a private word.
He came to a halt a few feet from the door, forcing her to stop as well. He was a bit too large for her to tug very far.
“You mind telling me what you’re doing?” His right eyebrow lifted.
“Stopping you. You’re not getting away before I understand what going on with Zeb Stoltzfus.”
“Later,” he said. “After you’ve had a chance to think about what Rebecca is asking.”
“Now.” Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. “I can’t make a decision without knowing all the facts. Surely an attorney can understand that.”
Jake detached her fingers from his sleeve. “Are you always this stubborn?” He sounded more interested than condemning.
“Yes.” Stubborn. And impulsive. Those two qualities had landed her in trouble more often than she cared to remember. Pain flickered at the thought of the events of the past couple of weeks.
“All right.” His rapid capitulation surprised her. He glanced around. “Come on. We can’t talk in the hallway where anyone might hear.”
Now it was his turn to grasp her arm and propel her down the hallway. His big hand enclosed her elbow, and she felt his warmth even through two layers of fabric.
Jake stopped at a door and peered through the narrow vertical window. “Good, it’s empty.” He shoved the door open and led the way inside. “We shouldn’t be disturbed in here for a few minutes.”
It was a chapel, she realized, carefully non-denominational as chapels usually were in places like hospitals. Light streamed through the abstract pattern of the stained glass window on the outer wall, laying a path of color across beige carpeting. Two short rows of pale wooden benches faced a table under the window, which held a vase of bronze-and-yellow mums.
“Have a seat.” He waited until she’d slid into a pew and sat down next to her.
“Now tell me.” Almost without thought she lowered her voice. “What does Zeb have against me?”
Jake frowned absently at the vase of flowers, apparently arranging his thoughts. She waited, trying to be patient. She could stand to do some thought-arranging herself, since at the moment her brain felt like a juggler, tossing a handful of colored balls into the air.
“Didn’t you wonder why an Amish woman would have an attorney?”
Lainey blinked at the question. “Well, I guess I didn’t consider it.” Why would she? She hadn’t known until he’d called her with the news, and she’d been too shocked to think of anything except getting here.
“It’s unusual, to put it mildly.” The lines of his face relaxed a little. “Unlike most of the Amish in this area, your great-uncle was actually fairly wealthy, at least in terms of the property he owned. I think it started almost by accident, but Isaac seemed to have a gift for knowing when to buy. As a result, when he became sick, he consulted me, wanting to be sure Rebecca had someone to advise her.”
“He didn’t trust the family to do so?” Picturing Zeb’s narrow, avaricious face, she didn’t think she’d trust him either.
“Let’s just say that Isaac didn’t want Rebecca to have to handle any family disagreements. He felt that having an outsider assisting her would prevent that.”
“Okay. But I still don’t see what there is in that to make his brother so upset. If, as you say, my aunt’s money is invested in land, there surely isn’t anything I have to do about it while she’s ill. When she gets better...” She stopped, not wanting to think about the alternative.
“Yes.” Jake seemed to be answering what she didn’t say, and his already deep voice deepened still more in sympathy. “We don’t know yet what will happen to Rebecca, and whether she’ll ever be able to take over managing the property again. In the meantime I can certainly collect rents and pay taxes, but there’s more to it than that.”
Lainey’s head was beginning to ache as Jake seemed intent on adding even more to the number of balls she was juggling. “You’d better tell me the worst of it. How else am I going to know what to do?”
His firm lips curved slightly. “There’s no ‘worst,’ as you say. It’s just that Rebecca owns several farms among other things—farms that Zeb and three of his sons operate.”
“They’re doing it for her?”
“No, they’re doing it for themselves. They pay her a rent that is...nominal, to say the least.”
She still didn’t quite see what all the fuss was about. “Surely Zeb doesn’t think I’m going to raise the rent or evict them or something. Things can just go on the way they are.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Jake’s frown told her that despite his words, there was something worse to come. “A week or so before Rebecca’s stroke, Zeb had asked her to sign one of the farms over to him so that he could use it for collateral on a loan. She hadn’t made a decision yet, so that’s in limbo, and I don’t know how badly he needed or wanted the money.”
No
