Search the Dark. Marta Perry

one thing hasn’t changed at all.”

      Before she could answer he turned and walked away, his fists clenching as he tried to stamp down feelings he’d been sure had died a long time ago.

      * * *

      ANGER WAS MEREDITH’S only shield against pain, and she clung to it as she hurried into the house. If all Zach had to offer her was bitterness, so be it. He might at least have given her a chance to explain.

      The thought drew her up sharply. What was there to explain? She’d said she loved him, but she hadn’t had the courage to go against her family, her mother’s imagined social status or the opinion of Deer Run to prove it. Zach knew that as well as she did. Their love was long since dead and buried, and it might have the decency to stay in its grave.

      “What on earth were you doing, talking to that boy? Standing there at the front gate where everyone in town could see you—Meredith King, you should have better sense.” Her mother waited in the entryway, shaking with anger from the top of her carefully tinted hair to the tips of her neat leather loafers. “I can’t imagine how he has the nerve to show his face in Deer Run again. What’s he doing here, anyway?”

      Meredith sucked in a deep breath and prayed for calm. “I’m not sure, Mother. I believe he has some business to take care of.” She kept walking, heading for the kitchen. “I’d better put the goat’s milk in the fridge.”

      It was too much to hope that her mother wouldn’t follow her. “What kind of business? If he’s come back here to moon after you again, he might as well go back where he came from.”

      “Don’t be silly.” That came out too sharply. “You know all that was over a long time ago.”

      “You shouldn’t have talked to him at all.” Her mother sank onto a kitchen chair, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “It gives me one of my headaches just to think about Zach Randal, right at my front gate, looking like some kind of a hoodlum.”

      Zach had looked a bit rough around the edges, hadn’t he? That had always been part of the allure, Meredith supposed. It was classic, a good girl like Meredith King falling hard for the boy who was bad to the bone, or so people said. And Zach, with his disdain for small-town attitudes, had seemed to enjoy shocking the denizens of Deer Run. If he wasn’t cutting school, he was sauntering in late. And he’d been quick with his fists at the slightest opportunity.

      “I understand he’s a police officer now,” she said, opening the refrigerator door to shield her face while hoping to head off some of the inevitable speculation.

      “I suppose he told you so, and you believed him. Just like you always did.” Her mother’s voice went up an octave, and she stopped massaging her temples to clutch at her chest—never a good sign. “You believed him no matter what we said, causing your poor father so much grief.”

      Tears spurted from her mother’s soft brown eyes, and her words came in little gasps. She was working herself into a state of hysteria, and if Meredith didn’t intercede, she’d end up with a frantic call to the doctor, insisting she was having a heart attack.

      “Now, Mother, that’s all in the past. There’s nothing to worry about anymore. Zach is only here for a few days, and then he’ll be gone and we’ll never see him again.” Her heart seemed to lodge a protest at that, but she kept going. “I’m sorry his return upset you, but it doesn’t need to. Why don’t you come upstairs and have a nice rest before supper?”

      Still soothing, Meredith led her mother gently to the stairs. They’d played this scene so often she knew it by heart. First it had been Daddy doing the soothing and comforting, and now it was Meredith’s job.

      Keeping her voice calm, her touch gentle, she guided her mother up to her bedroom, pulled the shades, tucked her under the coverlet. Experience had taught her that it was useless to try and reason with her mother—she was no more amenable to reason than the average two-year-old. And too much emotion led inevitably to the racing heartbeat that frightened her mother as much as it did Meredith.

      According to the doctors, her mother’s atrial fibrillation was not nearly bad enough or frequent enough to require anything other than the mild medication she was on. Their assurances had never comforted her mother.

      Finally, after repeated promises that Margo would never be subjected to the sight of Zach Randal again, Meredith was able to get away. An easy promise to make, wasn’t it? It was hardly likely that Zach would care to confront Margo King after what she had done to him.

      Meredith had barely reached the kitchen when she heard a tapping on the back door. Through the window she spotted Rachel, who’d probably cut across the back lawn between their houses in the shortcut they’d developed in the past few months. The elderly Amish seamstress whose small house sat between the two didn’t mind their frequent trespassing.

      Meredith opened the door with a sense of relief. Here was someone she could confide in without the need to protect her feelings.

      Rachel came in, handing her a package as she did so. “This was on your back porch.”

      Meredith glanced at the label as she led the way into the kitchen and sighed. “It looks as if Mother has been watching the Shopping Channel again. I can’t seem to convince her that we can’t afford every little thing that appeals to her.” She’d have to have another of her futile talks with her mother.

      Rachel nodded in sympathy. She knew all about getting by on a small income, since she was supporting herself and her young daughter by turning her former mother-in-law’s house into a bed-and-breakfast. “She still doesn’t understand that her investments aren’t paying off the way they used to?”

      “Understand? She won’t even listen. Says it gives her a headache.”

      Meredith put the kettle on the stove with a little unnecessary force. Rachel was the only person in whom she confided, and Rachel was safe. Their childhood friendship had blossomed into a solid relationship since Rachel moved back to Deer Run.

      “How is she taking Zach Randal’s return?” Rachel lowered her voice, as if Margo King might be lurking around the corner.

      “It’s okay to talk. She’s taking a nap.” Meredith set two mugs on the counter. The late-September day was cool enough to switch from iced tea to hot tea for their afternoon break. “So the rumor mill is turning already, is it?”

      “I’m afraid so.” Rachel hesitated, her usual gentle expression concerned. “If you don’t want to talk about it...”

      “I’d rather talk to you than anyone. I just can’t believe Zach has come back. I never expected to see him again after what my mother did.”

      “Your mother?”

      “You didn’t know? I guess you might not have.” Rachel had still been Amish then, and their childhood friendship had faded by that time. Amish teenage girls were helping their mothers or preparing for marriage at a time when Englisch girls were engrossed in cheerleading and the latest hairstyles.

      The kettle shrieked, a suitable sound for the way Meredith felt. She poured water over the tea bags.

      “My parents didn’t want me involved with Zach, as you can imagine. He was the rebel, constantly in trouble with everyone.”

      She had to smile. It had been such a classic story—like Grease without the music. Or maybe more like West Side Story, even though no one died.

      “When we started getting too serious, my mother came up with a simple plan to get rid of him. I had let him into the house when she wasn’t there, and she claimed money was missing from her desk drawer. She said Zach had taken it, and she threatened to prosecute if he didn’t go away and leave me alone.” The words were as dry as dust in her mouth. “He was ready to leave Deer Run behind, anyway, I suppose. He wanted me to go with him. I said no.” She set the mugs on the table with a clunk and sank into her chair.

      Rachel studied her face for a moment. “Did you love him?”