The Amish Widow's Heart. Marta Perry

seemed to be lifting her spirits, making her pay attention to what was going on around her.

      Family and church members had been in and out constantly for the past month, taking over so much that there’d been little she had to do. And Daniel, James’s partner in the general store, had taken care of everything there. She was better for something to do.

      At some point she had to talk to Daniel and make some decisions about the store, but not yet.

      She reached for the last few items in the drawer, her fingers touching something that wasn’t cloth. Paper crinkled under her fingers.

      Curious, she pulled it out of the drawer to look at. A half sheet of paper, torn off and folded. Frowning, she flipped it open, read the few words it contained and felt her heart freeze.

      Beth stared at the penciled words, trying to comprehend, but her brain felt as chilled as her heart. She forced herself to concentrate, reading the words as slowly as if they were in a language she barely knew.

       I have to see you one more time. Meet me tomorrow night at the usual place. Please. Don’t fail me.

      There was no signature, only a penciled heart shape. No name. No date. But the meaning was clear, wasn’t it?

      “Beth? What’s wrong? Tell me.” Lydia’s arms came around her, and she sounded almost frightened. Beth knew she must look terrible. As terrible as she felt.

      “I can’t.” She stammered the words out and thrust the paper toward Lydia, glad to have it out of her hand. She clung to a faint hope that Lydia would see something different in the words...something that wouldn’t shatter her heart and grind it to dust.

      Lydia gasped, and then she was silent, probably trying to take it in as Beth had done.

      “Maybe...” Lydia was hesitant, her blue eyes dark and troubled. “Maybe it doesn’t mean what it seems to.”

      She didn’t sound as if she believed that any more than Beth did.

      “What else could it mean?” Anger and pain broke through the ice that encased her. “Someone...some woman...was meeting James on the sly. The usual place—what else could that mean?”

      “Maybe...” Lydia faltered, clearly trying to think of some explanation that wouldn’t hurt as much. “Well, maybe it was just someone who had a crush on James. He was attractive, and he could be charming, but it didn’t mean anything. You were the one he loved.”

      She clung to the words. That was true enough, she supposed. James’s charm had been what had drawn her to him, back when they were teenagers. With his laughing eyes and his enticing smile, he’d had all the girls in a tizzy at one time or another. But he’d chosen her. He’d married her, promising to be faithful.

      Something in her hardened against the pain and grief that threatened to envelop her. He’d promised to be faithful in front of God and the church.

      “He was meeting this woman, whoever she was,” she said firmly. She couldn’t ignore the obvious. “That’s not an old note—the pencil marks are still dark. Besides, I cleaned everything in this drawer not that long ago.”

      Her mind started to work again, remembering when that had been. Her gaze met Lydia’s. “That was no more than a week before the accident. That note wasn’t in the drawer then.”

      Lydia didn’t speak. Most likely she couldn’t think of another explanation, any more than Beth could. James had been seeing another woman just before he died. It was incredible. Impossible. But it had happened.

      “That night,” Beth murmured, almost speaking to herself. “He said he’d be working late in the store. What was he doing out on Owl Hollow Road? I never even thought about that...never questioned it.”

      “You think it was the night the note refers to?” Lydia understood her quickly. “But you can’t be sure of that. And you can’t go around asking people.” She sounded horrified at the thought.

      “No, I can’t go around asking.” Pain forced the words out as she realized what this would mean for her. “I can only go on wearing black and pretending. No one must ever know, especially not Benjy.”

      No matter what she felt, she couldn’t damage Benjy’s memory of his daadi. No matter how much it cost her.

      But there was one thing she could do. She could find out if Daniel knew where James had gone the night he was supposed to be working at the store. Daniel was James’s best friend as well as his partner. If anyone knew James’s secret, it was Daniel.

      Daniel Miller turned from restocking the canned goods shelf to check the time. The plain round clock on the back wall of the store showed nearly four. Since they closed at five, business should be quiet for the next hour. Time for him to make the visit he’d been putting off for weeks—a visit to Bethany, James’s widow.

      He still couldn’t get used to that word. Widow. They were too young to be experiencing this—it was for old people. If it affected him that way, how much harder must Beth be finding it?

      Shaking off the question, he rounded the end of the shelves and approached the cash register, where Anna Fisher was taking advantage of their lack of customers to clean the glass-fronted cabinet.

      “Anna?”

      She glanced up, her round, youthful face responding. “Yah? Something you want me to do, Daniel?”

      “Just keep an eye on things for me. I have to run an errand.” He smiled, nodding toward the battery section, where his nephew Timothy was replacing batteries in their proper bins. “And you might take a look at those shelves when Timothy finishes. Just in case.”

      Anna nodded. Fourteen-year-old Timothy had been helping out for only a couple of weeks. They’d needed an extra pair of hands once James was gone.

      Timothy was eager, but not always accurate. Still, Anna was responsible, not flighty like most sixteen-year-old girls, and she’d been working in the store for over a year.

      “I’ll manage everything. Don’t worry.” She was obviously pleased at being left in charge, but a trace of apprehension showed. “You’ll be back to close up, yah?”

      “For sure. No worries.”

      He headed for the door, pausing a moment outside to admire, as always, the General Store sign. They had a good location—he and James had decided the lot between their two properties at the end of Main Street would be just right for the business that was just a dream six years ago.

      They’d surmounted plenty of obstacles on the way to making the dream a reality. He’d just never thought he’d be carrying on alone, without James. Pain clenched his heart. James had been his best friend since they’d entered first grade at Creekside Amish School together.

      Funny, when he stopped to think about it, that they had linked up so quickly. He was one of seven, growing up on the ninety-acre farm that spread out from the road to the ridge that overlooked the village of Lost Creek. He sometimes felt lost in the midst of siblings, and it had been startling to realize that James’s life was so different from his, even though they were part of the same church district.

      James’s mother was a widow, and James her only child. They lived right in town, and at six, James had known little of the farm life that was so routine for Daniel. But still, they’d been best friends, and when James married Bethany and they bought her great-uncle’s holding and orchard, they became neighbors, as well.

      The lane at the side of the store led back to Beth’s property. Daniel strode along, noticing the signs of autumn beginning to show in the yellowing fields and the bright plumes of the sumac bushes. The leaves hadn’t begun to turn yet, and the weather held sunny and warm, but the children were back in school and autumn was on the way. He could see the glint of red here and there in the apple orchard that covered the lower