“Exactly.” Mary Aaron refolded the report and slid it back into the official-looking envelope. She dropped it on the table and wandered to the door where Rachel’s flowered dress for the rehearsal dinner hung. “This is so pretty,” Mary Aaron said, fingering the soft material. “I can’t believe you’re finally getting married. Even my mother didn’t think you’d ever do it. She kept saying that you were taking so long making up your mind because you weren’t sure you didn’t want to come back.”
“I know,” Rachel said. “She told me the same thing.”
Mary Aaron’s voice grew thick. “Tomorrow, you’ll be a married woman, and I’ll still be single.” She swallowed, and her beautiful eyes glistened with moisture as she turned back to Rachel. “It’s not that I’m not happy for you. I am, but somehow, I always thought I’d be the one to marry first.”
* * *
It snowed in the night, not enough to impede the wedding, but enough to lay a sparkling blanket of snow over the lawns and fields of Stone Mill. That morning, Rachel nibbled a piece of rye toast and sipped at her tea in her room while staring at her beautiful gown. The previous day’s rehearsal and the dinner afterward had gone pretty much as she had imagined they would, but there had been no fireworks. Evan’s mother and her mother had both pasted fake smiles on their faces and gritted their teeth as they went through the motions. But, on a high note, the food at Magnolia had been good and the waitresses pleasant and competent. And Evan had been wonderful: calm, charming, and so attentive that Rachel had felt as if it really was her special evening.
The day had arrived that so much work and planning had led to. And suddenly the craziness of the last few weeks didn’t seem so crazy. It was time that she married, and she could go into this marriage knowing that she’d found someone with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Evan was everything any woman could ask for. He’d been so sweet at the dinner and then he’d called her afterward and they’d talked on the phone until late into the night.
She missed him this morning. Following custom, and interestingly, on the advice of both mothers, they’d agreed not to speak to or see each other until they met that afternoon at the church altar. The idea made sense on several levels. If they didn’t talk to each other, there was no possibility of a disagreement before the wedding. And there was a certain excitement about the anticipation of seeing each other that afternoon. But a part of her wished she could hear Evan’s voice, share a few laughs and endearments, because the hours between now and the ceremony stretched out like an eternity.
Rachel had planned the morning carefully so she wouldn’t feel rushed and now she was almost wishing she’d saved some last-minute tasks for herself. But she hadn’t. Mary Aaron was picking up ice and a few final things for the wedding dinner, and she had taken complete charge of the house and the guests today. Everyone had agreed to leave Rachel to herself until it was time to get dressed. And even then, she wanted no fuss.
The reception would be there at the inn, and her mother, her Aunt Hannah, and Ada had the meal arranged down to the groom’s cake. They’d all soon be downstairs putting the day in motion. So, it was Rachel’s wedding day, and she had nothing to do until it was time to put on her gown.
Debbi from the hair salon had arrived promptly at seven that morning, and the stylist had done her hair there in her apartment so that she wouldn’t have to leave the house and chance being seen before the ceremony. Unconsciously, Rachel’s hand went to the pins at the back of her head and patted the elegant but traditional up-do Debbi had fashioned. It was fancier than she usually wore her hair, but she liked it and thought it would go nicely with her plain lace veil.
For what seemed like the one-hundredth time, Rachel glanced at her wedding gown hanging in the closet. She loved it, and she hoped Evan would, too. Feeling restless, she got up and went to the gown, brushed a few cat hairs off the protective plastic cover, and lined up her shoes under the dress. Then she wandered to a window and gazed out at the snowy ground below and the sparkling, bare treetops.
She couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with her. Mary Aaron was right. She should be more excited than she was, shouldn’t she? Were the town gossips right? Did she not really want to marry Evan?
No, that wasn’t it. She loved Evan and though it had taken her a few years to get to this point, she was ready to make her vows. That wasn’t what was troubling her.
It was Daniel’s murder.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter what Evan or Mary Aaron or the police said, she still couldn’t accept that Moses had killed him. Yet Moses was facing decades in prison. And she feared he’d never survive, not being the way he was mentally and emotionally. Not being an Amish man in an Englisher world.
Rachel had never been able to tolerate injustice, and that was the problem here. That was what was happening in the case of Daniel’s murder. Even with all the evidence, or lack thereof, her gut instinct still told her that Moses was taking the fall for someone else.
But for whom?
After talking with Mary Rose, the same gut instinct told Rachel it wasn’t her. She had been too honest with her emotions. . . and Rachel had seen it in her eyes. And the previous day, Mary Aaron had been able to confirm what
