"Well, I gotta run," Lily said. She drew Rachel into another embrace, surprising her when she whispered into her ear. "There's something I want to tell you," she said. "Call me tomorrow." She pulled away abruptly and leaned over to kiss Gram's cheek. "Hey, Helen," she said, "you watch out for those old lightning bolts, okay?"
"I will," Gram promised. "You can count on it."
Lily moved away to another group of people, leaving Rachel to wonder what she wanted to talk to her about.
She glanced across the auditorium to see Michael looking at her. He waved, an act of bravery in this crowd, and she returned the gesture. That was as much of him as she'd be able to have tonight.
–29–
"Your son is beautiful," said Rachel.
Michael leaned back on the sofa and smiled into the phone. "Thanks. He did look kinda good up there tonight, didn't he?" He'd been surprised when Ian called Jason up to the stage. Ian must have given Jason some sort of instructions earlier, but Michael still saw his own trepidation mirrored in his son's eyes. It had gone well, though. "He even refused a ride home. Wanted to walk with some of the kids."
"That's great."
"Gives me some time alone with you, finally."
"Well, if you can call this time alone."
He laughed. "Frustrating, tonight, wasn't it?"
"An understatement. It was hard to be that close to you and not be able to talk to you."
"Where are you right now?"
"In the library, sitting in the fake-leather chair, sipping a cup of Earl Grey. Gram's gone to bed. I have the house to myself."
"Wish I were there with you." He let the words out, unwise though they may have been.
"I wish you were, too. It was so nice the other night, sitting with you on that loveseat in the hotel."
"With Ursula's hidden camera over our shoulders."
"Well, even if she had one, we didn't do anything we need to be ashamed of."
"True." But he knew that didn't matter. The article had done him irreparable damage. He thought of telling her about that morning's conversation with Jason and his visit from Lewis, but he didn't want to mar the warmth and comfort he was feeling just then.
"Lily told me to call her tomorrow," Rachel said. "She said there's something she wants to tell me. Do you have any idea what it might be?"
He heard the screen door open and the click of Jason's key turning in the lock. "She probably wants to convert you," he said. "Thinks you'd make a good Mennonite."
Rachel responded, but he didn't hear her. His eyes were on his son, who had walked in the door and was trying to hurry past him.
"Jace?" he said. "Come here."
With a resigned sigh, the boy turned to face him, and Michael sucked in his breath. There was a bruise on his cheek, near his eye, and blood was crusted under his nose. Someone had beaten him up.
"I've got to go," he said to Rachel. "I'll call you later."
He hung up the phone, then stood to slip his arm around his son's shoulders. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said, walking with him toward the kitchen. He wouldn't push Jason for details. Not yet. One thing at a time.
In the kitchen, Jason was quiet as Michael tended to his injuries. They were simple wounds, but Michael found himself wishing Katy were home. Some people thought Katy could heal children with her touch alone.
"Where are your glasses?" he asked.
"Broken."
"Do you still have them?"
Jason pulled the glasses from his pants pocket. One lens was completely missing. Michael took them from his hand and set them on the kitchen counter. Jason was lucky he hadn't lost an eye.
He filled the ice pack and instructed Jason to hold it to his cheek. "Now," he said, sitting down across the table from him. "Tell me what happened."
"I don't want to talk about it," Jason muttered. His lips were tight as he stared at the table.
The phone rang, and Michael ignored it. He would let the machine pick it up.
"I remember looking something like this once upon a time," he said. "Right down to the broken glasses." It had happened to him only once. After that, people knew that anyone who hurt him would have to answer to Luke.
Jason didn’t raise his eyes from the table, and Michael knew he didn't care whether his father had been through this or not. Maybe he shouldn't press him to talk about it.
"Mark Matthews said you were fucking her," Jason suddenly blurted out. He looked at Michael, and Michael could see in his son's face the anger that had been there this morning. "Rachel Huber," Jason added, as if Michael might not get it. "I was walking home with Patrick Geils, and Mark came up and said that. So I hit him. And then he hit me back."
Michael leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. Jason had gotten himself beaten up defending his honor. "Are you wondering if what he said is true?" he asked.
"You said this morning you're just friends." There was an edge of cynicism in his voice. "You're acting so weird lately, I don't know. But I don't think you'd actually do something like that."
"You're right. I wouldn't. People like gossip, Jace, and I'm sorry you've gotten caught in the middle of it. You can't control it. I can't, either. We just have to live our lives the way we think is best."
"You were talking to her on the phone when I came in, weren't you?" he accused.
"Yes."
Jason made a look of disgust and winced, pressing the ice pack harder to his cheek. "I wish she'd never come here," he said. "I hate her."
"You don't even know her, Jace. That's not fair."
He knew he was skirting the real issues. If he were doing a good job of this conversation, he would ask Jason what he was afraid of. He'd try to help him get to the bottom of that fear and exorcise it. But he was afraid to hear his son's inevitable answer to that question—that Rachel could somehow derail his family. Michael would not be able to offer him easy reassurance to the contrary.
"Listen to me, Jace, please," he said. "I've been trying to figure out some questions for myself lately. Mainly some things about my faith. I'm not certain what answers I'll find, but I can assure you that the one thing that will never change is how much I love you. That's something that will never, ever change, no matter what. So you're right if you think I'm acting different lately. I am. But please don't pin the blame for that on Rachel."
"I want to call Mom."
"Why?" he asked, alarmed. He hadn't mentioned to Katy that Rachel was still in town, much less that he'd been spending time with her. If she heard it first from Jason, it would look as if he'd been hiding the fact. Which, of course, he had been.
"To talk to her," Jason said. "Do I need some kind of special reason?"
"All right," Michael said. "Let's see if we can get through."
They tried for half an hour, but there was no answer, and Jason went to bed sulking.
Michael checked the answering machine after Jason was in bed. Sammi Carruthers, the chairperson of the board of supervisors, had left a message telling him that the date of the hearing had been changed from September 6 to August 29, the following Monday, four short days away. It felt like some sort of plot. Drew was not even due back from California until the first.
It was very late, but he tried calling Drew anyway. He got his machine, the message already changed to say that he would be "away from the phone for a week." He would call Drew's travel agent in the morning and find out where he could reach him. Maybe there was a chance he could come home in time for the hearing.
He'd said he would call Rachel back, but for the first time he was not anxious to talk to her, and he waited until he got into bed before dialing Helen's number. Rachel answered quickly.
"I hesitated calling this late," he said. "Didn't want to wake Helen up."
"I don't think you did. I'm still in the library, sitting by the phone. I was afraid you weren't going to call back. Is everything all right?"
"Not really." He told her about Jason's fight for his honor. He told her every detail
of their conversation, as well as the gist of the conversation from that morning.
She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice sounded tired. "I haven't done anyone much good by being here, have I?" she asked. "Except maybe Gram, and she really doesn't need my help anymore."
He had to admit she was right. Her being in town had stirred up painful memories of an old tragedy, turned good people into anxious gossips, and raised a conflict in him he happily could have gone his whole life without experiencing.
"None of this is your fault," he said. "Remember that."
"You're very upset," she said.
"Yes, I am," he said. "I'm upset that my actions have caused Jace so much grief."
"I'm so sorry, Michael."
"Not your fault," he said again.
They spoke a few minutes longer. He told her about his need to get in touch with Drew. He tried to shift his thoughts from Jason to the hearing, but when he hung up the phone, all he could think about was David and Bathsheba, and the son they'd lost as punishment for their weakness.
–30–
Rachel called Lily at Hairlights at exactly nine the following morning. Lily asked if she could get away for lunch, and she agreed but then pictured eating with her former student in one of the few restaurants in town and was immediately reminded of their farmers' market outing.
"Do you think we could we meet outside of town?" she asked.
"How about the Hearthside Restaurant?" Lily suggested. "It's in Bird-in-Hand—not too far away, but far enough."
As soon as Rachel stepped into the homey Hearthside Restaurant, she spotted Lily waiting for her at a corner table near the windows. She crossed the room and took a seat opposite the younger woman.
Lily handed her a menu. "I'm having the turkey and Swiss," she said.
"I'll have the same." She set the menu aside without looking at it. She wasn't here for the food.
They ordered their sandwiches, then Rachel smiled. "That was a great show last night," she said.
"It went well, didn't it?" Lily grinned.
"Yes. And that was a sweet thing Ian did for Jason Stoltz." She thought of telling Lily what had happened to Jason on his way home from the show but changed her mind. She didn't want Lily to think it had anything to do with Jason being in Ian's act.
"Yeah." Lily looked like a woman in love. "Ian does a lot of sweet things. And we made tons of money, too. Everyone was really generous." She cocked her head to the side. "Poor Rachel. You've seen too much of the ugly side of people here. You don't know the truth—that Reflection is truly a generous, caring town."
Rachel heard the mild defensiveness in her tone. "I believe that," she reassured her. "I know people's reaction to me is unusual."
Lily looked down at the table and ran a finger over the handle of her knife. "I have stewed and stewed about this," she said, raising her eyes to Rachel's. "But I think that if I were in your position, I would want to know."
Rachel tensed. "Know what?"
Lily took in a deep breath. "I have a funny job, Rachel," she said. "You wouldn't believe the information I get, unsolicited, from my clients. I know more about what goes on here than the mayor does."
Rachel thought of the newspaper interview with Ursula Torwig and wondered what more Lily could possibly know.
Lily hurried on. "Please forgive me if this is none of my business. It is none of my business. But I have to tell you."
"You're already forgiven, whatever it is," Rachel said. "You've been kinder to me than anyone in town."
Lily leaned back in her chair. "I know that Katy and Michael have been having problems for quite a while. Most people think they're terrific together, and everyone thinks highly of them. Well, people aren't so sure about Michael right now, but at least in the past both of them were truly respected. But I do the hair of a couple of Katy's friends, and I know things are not exactly blissful between them. And I also know you care a lot for Michael."
"He's a dear friend."
"And it's none of my business if he's more than that."
"He's not." Rachel felt her cheeks redden, and Lily quickly broke in.
"I don't care," she said. "Well, actually, I do care in a selfish sort of way, because I want Michael to be the strong leader in my church that he's always been and I want people to listen to him when he says we can save the land if we work together. But if I think about what Michael might need rather than what I need, then I wish the two of you were more than friends. I adore him, and he deserves better than Katy."
Rachel tried not to take pleasure in her words.
"Okay. So here goes." Lily blew out her breath. "Katy's pregnant," she said. "At least I know for a fact that she was pregnant when she left for Russia."
Pregnant? Rachel felt the smile slip from her face. Did Michael know? How far along was she? And she had to be forty-two, at least.
The waitress set their sandwiches on the table, and Rachel and Lily locked eyes, waiting out the intrusion.
"Are you certain?" she asked when the waitress had walked away.
"Yes, I'm sure. One of my clients works in her O.B.'s office, and she, of course, had no right in the world to tell me, and I, of course, have no right to pass it on, but here I am. She was about two months along when she left, I think."
"I don't think Michael knows." Surely he would have told her if he did.
"No, I don't think so, either. She didn't plan to tell him before she left for Russia. At least my client said that Katy was upset about it—being pregnant—because her marriage was on shaky ground to begin with. She was scared and crying in the O.B.'s office. She wanted her and Michael to use the separation as a time to think things through. She didn't want the pregnancy to cloud the process."
"But it does cloud it, whether she wants it to or not," Rachel protested. "It's not fair to keep that kind of information from your husband." Her hands were trembling, and she lowered them to her lap. She was about to lose something that had never been hers to begin with. Michael would not turn his back on a pregnant wife, a new baby. And she wouldn't want him to. "Do you think she might have an abortion over there?" she asked, although she was certain she already knew the answer.
Lily shook her head. "Some Mennonites could do it, but I don't think Katy is one of them."
Rachel tried to smile. "Well, actually, I think this will help Michael see things a little more clearly. Poor guy's been kind of…conflicted lately."
"I know," Lily said. "And I'm sorry, Rachel. I can see this has really shaken you up, but I thought you should know. I get the feeling you and Michael—well, if you're trying to make any decisions, I think you need to be aware of all the facts."
"I appreciate it," Rachel said. She looked at her untouched sandwich, her appetite shot. "Anything else you think I ought to know?" She was joking, but Lily's sober expression made her tense up again. "Lily?"
"Not a thing," Lily said. "That's the only Stoltz family gossip I can think of."
* * *
She couldn’t do this, she thought as she drove home from Bird-in-Hand. She could no longer blithely fantasize about having something other than friendship with Michael while Katy was pregnant. It was bad enough to consider harming their marriage as it was, but with Katy expecting and upset? No. No way. She felt sick that she even had considered it. She'd believed—even delighted in—the descriptions of Michael's wife as a cold and noncommunicative woman. But the Katy that Lily described sounded like a frightened woman who badly needed her husband. Damn it.
She thought of Michael's words in the hotel in D.C. He'd been thinking about them, about the possibility of their having a future together, and she knew it could never be. He'd been very distressed last night, telling her about Jason. For the first time, he'd sounded as if he didn't want to talk to her, and she could hardly blame him. She was a threat to him and his family, a threat to this entire town. She was the demonic temptress after all.
She pulled into the driveway in front of her grandmother's hous
e but didn’t get out of the car. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the seat and thought about what she had to do. Chris was due to arrive in two days. She would have to call him, head him off. Suggest he meet her somewhere else for a few days' vacation. How far could she get in two days? Or maybe she could pick him up at the airport and they could drive to Philadelphia, spend a few days there together. Or go up to New York. Chris had never been there. Then she could take her time driving back to San Antonio. She pressed her fingertips to her temples. There was too much to figure out right now.
She found her grandmother at the piano in the living room.
"Gram." She sat down on the other piano bench. "Do you feel strong enough to be left alone?"
Gram looked at her in surprise. "Left alone?"
"Yes. You're getting around well. We could put a chair in the little hallway where you feel safe in case it storms, and—"
"Has something happened?"
Rachel shook her head. "No, but I have to go," she said. "I'm hurting Michael. His son was beaten up because some kids think Michael and I are having an affair. His son hates me without even knowing me. And Lily told me that Katy's pregnant. I can't stay here…" Her voice broke, and Gram moved quickly from her bench to Rachel's. She put an arm around her granddaughter's shoulders.
"I'm perfectly fine to be left alone," Gram said, "but I don't want you to go. Does Michael know you're thinking of it?"
"Not yet. I'm going to pack and be ready to leave before I call him so he can't change my mind." It would be far too easy for him to dissuade her if she called him now. She didn’t have nearly as much to lose as he did. "If I'm gone, he'll be able to focus on his family again. And his church. He'll regain everyone's respect."
"When will you go?" Gram still had her arm around Rachel's shoulders, and it felt good and warm.
"In the morning." She pressed one of the piano keys so lightly it didn't make a sound. "You can't leave that quickly."