“Hey, Evie.” Jake strolled over to us. I felt a pull so deep I had to remind myself Stephen and a multitude were watching us, sizing up our relationship. More fodder for gossip.
“Hi, Wayne,” Jake said.
Wayne nodded in return.
A moment later Stephen joined us. “Something going on I should know about?”
“Bill and Ralph are on a rampage,” Wayne said. “They’ve filed complaints against you, Evie, and Jake. Even Glenn’s dog.”
Stephen wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’d better call Glenn and let him know. He may want us to use his attorney.”
“I’m not paying Glenn’s attorney five hundred dollars an hour for him to defend me against some lamebrain false accusation,” Jake said. “If I hadn’t shown up last night, who knows what would have happened to Evie?”
I recalled the feel of Ralph’s arm around my neck and trembled at the narrowness of my escape. Jake had rescued me.
“What exactly were you doing there, Jake?” Wayne’s demeanor turned rigid, his knees locked.
“Yeah, I’d like to know the same thing.” Stephen jutted out his chin.
“I wanted to speak to Evie about visiting my dat.” Thankfully, Jake didn’t elaborate further.
“You don’t have permission to enter the nursery after hours.” Stephen folded his arms across his chest. “I’m tempted to take out a restraining order to keep you off the property permanently.”
The muscles on Jake’s jawline twitched. “Can he do that?” he asked Wayne.
“Well, I don’t know. Glenn could.”
“I’ll suggest it to Glenn next time I talk to him.” Stephen’s voice was terse, his words clipped.
“Have you spoken to Glenn recently?” Wayne asked Stephen.
“We keep in touch. But I’ve kept the conversations lighthearted. Glenn’s father-in-law may only have days to live. Glenn has worries enough, and his wife and daughter need him.” He rubbed his chin. “In retrospect, it was a mistake to hold anything back. But my guess is Beatrice speaks to Rose daily.”
“You’d better give him the full scoop today.” Wayne’s gaze turned to the road as a pickup cruised to a halt. “This problem isn’t going away by itself.”
THIRTY-NINE
Please tell me that isn’t Bill Hastings.” Stephen angled his body away from Wayne.
“That’s Ralph’s brother?” Jake asked, watching Bill exit his vehicle and tromp toward us.
My hand at my throat, I wanted to escape. To bolt across the road, hide in my cabin, and lock the door. No, I still wouldn’t be safe. And a cowardly act would make me seem guilty of crimes I hadn’t committed.
Bill tromped over to us. “Well, now ain’t this handy?” Bill reminded me of Dat’s bull when riled. He turned to Wayne. “I hope you’ve filled these lowlifes in. How Ralph and I won’t tolerate their insults and accusations anymore. Someone’s gonna pay.” He glanced at the barn out of the corner of his eye. Half the men had stopped working and stared back at him.
Bishop Harvey climbed down a ladder and strode over to us. He put out his hand to shake Bill’s. “Hello, I’m Harvey.”
Bill seemed reluctant to shake his hand. “Yeah, I know who you are. Someone told me you’re an Amish bishop, which means nothing to me. Don’t expect me to kneel down and kiss your ring.”
Harvey smiled. “I don’t even wear a wedding ring, so no problems there. And no one has ever bowed down to me. Although I might be able to help out if you’d accept my input.”
“Nah. How could you possibly help? I know how you Amish think. Forgive and forget. Well, the people in this county won’t forget what’s been said about my brother and me. And I sure won’t forget the Yoders’ dog biting me. He could have rabies, for all I know.”
“He’s been vaccinated,” Stephen said, but Bill ignored him.
“But the dog bit me, right? I still think it killed some of my lambs. And now Ralph has been accused of burning a barn and accosting a young woman. He had to spend the night in jail.”
I mashed my lips together to keep silent. Ralph had attacked me and might have killed me if Jake hadn’t shown up and let Heath in.
Harvey seemed to be pondering as he stroked his beard. “Perhaps you could go speak to your own minister, Bill.”
“Look, you’re not my bishop, so don’t bother preaching to me.” Bill snorted a laugh. “I gave up that phony-bologna Bible business years ago. The only part I remember is an eye for an eye.”
“Did ya never hear ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’?” Harvey’s voice remained calm.
“Oh, you mean like God does? Don’t make me gag. Those platitudes mean nothing.”
“Has no one ever forgiven you when you didn’t deserve it?” Harvey asked.
“That’s a trick question, isn’t it?” Bill blinked. “God died the day my mother did. I was six years old.”
Harvey rubbed his palms together. I figured he was weighing his words. “Did your father remarry?”
“No. And he never forgave Ralph and me for nothing. When he came home snookered, we used to hide out in the barn.”
“Where is he now?”
“Not in heaven, that’s for sure.” Bill swiped his nose with his cuff. “One snowy night when I’d just turned eighteen, Dad’s car skidded off the road and down an embankment. He was barely holding on according to the only witness, an Amish man, who didn’t have a cell phone to call 9-1-1. By the time the medics finally arrived, it was too late.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Harvey said. “Losing both of your parents must have been very difficult.”
Bill’s mouth twisted. “If that Amish guy had owned a cell phone and a car, our father might have made it. You Amish are all screwed up.”
Harvey stood in silence for a moment. “God’s ways are difficult to understand.”
“That makes you pretty dumb. I mean, you only went to the eighth grade and haven’t even been to divinity school, and yet you claim to be a bishop.”
“Many would agree with you.” I imagined Harvey had plenty on his mind, but he didn’t defend himself.
“Hey,
