Lancaster County Reckoning. Kit Wilkinson

compliment was sincere. The transformation of the cottage was stunning. The home had been completely cleaned and organized. “It’s so warm and homey.”

      “Just like the man who lives here.” Nana glared back at her grandson. Darcy had to hold back the urge to laugh at the comical exchange between Thomas and his grandmother.

      Darcy looked to the older man who sat nearby. He’d seemed uninterested in the conversation, but now rose and moved toward her.

      “This is Bishop Miller. He’s one of the Elders, or leaders, of our Ordnung,” Nana explained. “He’s also Elijah’s father.”

      Darcy nodded at the man who was slow to make eye contact with his piercing blue eyes. There were no smiles from this person. No handshake. Yet he did not seem harsh, simply solemn. He looked like a man who carried a lot of weight on his shoulders. He stopped just a few feet from her and stood silent.

      “It’s very nice of you all to do this for Jesse,” she said. “So very kind. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

      “You had a long night. You must be exhausted,” said Nana.

      “Which is why we’d like for you to join us at lunch at Nolt cottage,” said Hannah.

      They didn’t wait for her answer, but swept through the front door as quick as a second. Only Thomas and the bishop stayed. Thomas still held the Bible in his hands. She wondered if he took it everywhere with him. And why did its presence in his hands make her so uncomfortable? She’d seen plenty of Bibles in her life.

      “Bishop Miller would like to speak with you, if that’s okay,” Thomas said.

      Darcy nodded to him as a wave of dread washed over her.

      “Then just follow the bishop to our place,” Thomas said. “It’s not far. About a mile or so.”

      She nodded again and tried to swallow down the dry lump that had formed in her throat.

      The bishop remained behind as Thomas exited. It was obvious he had something to tell her. Had something changed in Jesse’s condition since she left the hospital? She knew it was unlikely—the hospital had her contact information—but she was too worried to be rational. Her pulse spiked as she feared the worst of news.

      “You know something about Jesse?” Darcy asked, trying to be brave.

      “About his past, yes,” the old man said. “Just a little. But I will share what I have been told as my son thinks it is important for you and the police to know.”

      “The police?” Darcy could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. So this past might have something to do with Jesse’s beating and her phone call? Did he also know why Jesse had abandoned her? Did she even want to know?

      Bishop Miller cleared his throat. “When Jesse came here he was a broken man. A man running from many things. He was very scared. But he was also searching—for God and for the forgiveness that can only come from the Lord. And he opened his heart and found peace.”

      “Until yesterday?” Darcy asked.

      He nodded.

      “What was he running from? From the people who beat him? From the law? From...me?”

      Darcy tried to swallow again, but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

      “He was not running from you, child, but from himself. He made many mistakes, Miss Simmons. Although it is not for me to judge.” The bishop remained solemn but his tone was kind. “And please know that Jesse has had to pay dearly for his past decisions through great loss and sacrifice.”

      “What sacrifice? Looks to me like he came here and lived a pretty great life...”

      “His sacrifice was you. And your mother.”

      “My mother? What do you know about my mother?” Darcy fell back into one of the upholstered chairs. None of this made her feel any better. Only more confused and sick inside.

      Bishop Miller locked his sea-blue eyes on hers. “From what I was told, it all began when your father helped put a man in prison many years ago—a very bad man. Now that man has been released.”

      The phone call. The voice. The man who was coming after her. The man who’d already viciously beaten Jesse. Darcy’s head was spinning. It felt as if all the blood had drained from her body. She tried to breathe and calm herself down, but it was like some invisible force had gripped her chest. “What did this man do? What has this got to do with my mother?”

      “This man... He killed your mother.”

       FIVE

      “Why, Darcy, you’ve hardly touched your lunch,” said Nana Ruth as she cleared away the plates.

      “I had a late breakfast,” she explained. Thomas watched Darcy stand and begin to help Nana and Hannah clean away the dishes. He knew the real reason she hadn’t touched her lunch. On the way from the cottage, when Darcy had stayed behind to talk to the bishop, Elijah had shared with Thomas what the Elders knew about Jesse Troyer’s past.

      Thomas supposed he shouldn’t feel so mixed up about what he had learned. After the beating and the phone call to Darcy, he should have expected that Jesse had some dubious connections. Still, it created a cloud of mistrust to discover that Jesse had kept secrets for all these years. For Darcy those mixed emotions must have felt even heavier.

      He glanced through the kitchen window. In his office in the stables, where he managed his business of raising and training horses, he’d stowed away Jesse’s Bible, which he’d taken from the cottage. He was going to take it to the hospital the next time he went to visit Jesse so he could read to him. But now, he felt compelled to share it with Darcy. She should be the one to take it to the hospital and share God’s word with her father. Maybe it would give her some peace in all of this confusion. By the look on her face, she could certainly use some.

      “Your home is lovely.” Darcy brought him a cup of coffee that Nana had poured out.

      “Danki.” Thomas felt a brief grin slide over his lips. He took the coffee from her hands, thinking how this woman was not quite what he had thought when he first saw her on Jesse’s front porch. Fancy and sharp-witted, yes. But there was something softer there, too, although Thomas guessed it wasn’t a side of her that she was comfortable revealing to many people, especially to a stranger like him.

      “Well, if you like the old house, Miss Simmons, please allow me to show you the even older stables.” He glanced over to Elijah. “Eli and I were just heading there to look at the filly.”

      Eli raised an eyebrow at the unexpected invitation, but followed Darcy and Thomas out of the white clapboard home toward the great red stable.

      “So your grandmother lives on one side of the house and you on the other?” Darcy asked.

      “When the house was more crowded, we definitely needed the space,” Thomas said, thinking back to a time not so long ago when his brother’s child and wife had lived there under his roof, dependent on his protection—protection he’d failed to give. “Now it’s just the two of us. Frankly, I don’t know how Nana keeps up the place all by herself.”

      “That’s why Nana is always on the lookout for a new granddaughter-in-law.” Eli slapped him on the back.

      Thomas clenched his teeth. He knew his friend meant no harm, but somehow the comment rubbed him wrong. To redirect the conversation, he started to explain to Darcy that Hannah—Elijah’s wife—used to live with him, along with her stepdaughter, Jessica, when Hannah was widowed by his older brother, who’d died in a buggy accident. And so it was really Eli’s fault that Nana had lost her helper, when he’d come back to town to investigate the case of Jessica’s murder and married Hannah. But the memory was so bittersweet. As happy as he was that his friend and his sister-in-law had found love together, the losses