Chapter 5

Elias Weaver was waiting for him when Seth returned home. His horse and buggy were parked off to the side.

"I was beginning to think you were dodging me," he called out when Seth was about halfway up his driveway.

"Why's that?"

"Your truck is sitting here and the engine was cold. I thought you were around but didn't care to talk."

The truth was that Seth wasn't in any great hurry to speak to Elias at the moment. Even though Elias was one of his oldest friends and had even taken the time to write to him a couple of times when he'd been in jail, Seth sometimes found him to be nosy. Elias might say his questions stemmed from interest and concern, but Seth had always gotten the feeling that the man simply enjoyed gleaning information.

Though that could be helpful, it could also come back to bite him. The last thing he wanted was for Elias to get into his business with Tabitha. That was private and no business of anyone else's.

Besides, Seth needed some more time to replay Tabitha's words in his head. All the way back home, some of her words and phrases had come back to him, playing over and over like they'd been recorded. During their conversation, he'd been so focused on not spooking her, he hadn't allowed himself to react to the things she'd said. He was anxious to do that ... but couldn't with Elias over.

Of course, that wasn't fair to his buddy.

Hoping that Elias would sense that he wasn't in the mood to chat, Seth stopped a few feet from him. "I didn't need my truck for where I had to go."

"Which was ... where, exactly?"

"Why are you here, Elias?"

Elias looked taken aback. And maybe a little bit hurt. "Do I have to have a reason for coming over?"

"No, but you usually do." He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

Elias hated silence. After a few seconds passed, he sighed. "I came here to ask for a favor." His eyes kept darting to one side.

Time hadn't been all that good to Elias. His middle had gotten thick, and more than a couple wrinkles had appeared on his face. He'd also had a number of financial setbacks. Like when he was a child, he was full of impulsiveness—and now regrets. Though he and Seth were almost the same age, Elias carried a smattering of fine lines around his eyes. Seth always thought that was an ironic twist. How could a man look worse than his best friend who'd been in prison?

Regardless of all his flaws, Elias was a proud man. So proud that Seth had always figured he'd rather stride through a raging river than ask for a helping hand to get into a boat. Of course, that was why his friend's words caught him off guard.

Immediately he ran through scenarios that would necessitate Elias being there. The best—and worst—possibility had to do with Melonie. Seth's younger sister always had his heart, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to spend time with Seth but also needed to mind their parents. They'd reluctantly allowed Melonie to see him from time to time but otherwise kept their distance.

"Is everything okay with Melonie?"

And just like that, Elias's proud countenance slipped into soft sympathy. "Jah." Squeezing Seth's shoulder, he added, "Your sister is gut, buddy."

A couple of years ago, Elias had mentioned to Seth that he'd like to court her one day. Seth had shut that down, saying that he was sure his sister would never think of him as anything but an older brother. Elias had been disappointed but had eventually agreed.

It turned out that he'd done a real fine job of filling that spot for Seth when he'd been in prison. Elias had looked after her, spoke with her after church services, and even stopped by to see Melonie and their parents from time to time. Melonie had often written him about Elias's visits, easing Seth's mind. Later, when Seth returned to Crittenden County and realized that his parents weren't going to welcome him with open arms, Elias had continued to be supportive to both him and his sister.

Seth appreciated everything his buddy did for him and his family. He truly did. But he would be lying if he said that he wasn't jealous of his longtime friend. In some ways, Elias had taken Seth's spot in the Zimmerman family. In his weakest moments, Seth tried to imagine what his life would have been like if he'd never stepped in to defend Bethanne.

As much as even thinking about Melonie hurt, Elias's news eased his insides. "I hope our mother is keeping an eye on her. A train could be coming and half the time I think Melonie would still walk across those tracks." Of course, from what Seth had gathered, their father was always working and their mother had taken to bed with a constant stream of headaches. Melonie could do all sorts of things without either of them knowing.

"I don't think she's that oblivious. At least, not anymore. So there's no need to worry about her." He cleared his throat. "This has to do with me."

Concern for his friend made Seth study him closer. If Elias was hurting, he was doing a good job of hiding it. "Let's go on inside."

"Danke."

Looking at the horse, Seth added, "Want to unhitch Lightning?"

"We might as well, I reckon."

When he stepped toward the horse, Seth stopped him. "I got it." He carefully unhitched the lines from the horse and moved him over to a grassy area where another hitching post stood. After attaching the lines to it, he strode to the barn, found an old bucket, and used the spigot outside to fill it with water before carrying it to Lightning's side.

Elias watched it all, an expression of bemusement playing on his features. "You can still tend to a horse better than most anyone around."

Seth felt like rolling his eyes. Even his good friends didn't seem able to look beyond his jeans, T-shirt, sleeve of tattoos, and short English haircut. It was as if his changed appearance had changed his heart and his mind. What he would've been happy to tell Elias—and anyone else who took the trouble to ask—was that he was still very much the same man he'd always been. He still did love working with horses. He'd even considered being a blacksmith or working in a livery, but that dream ended when he realized that no Amish person would give him their business.

Though Seth didn't regret the things he'd done that landed him in prison, he did regret that he was never going to be able to remove it from anyone's memory. He wasn't a completely different person because a man died in a fight with him and he'd served time, but the experiences had altered him. He thought he was stronger because of his hardships. Unfortunately, even his parents weren't willing to associate with him anymore.

Running a hand down Lightning's flank, he said, "I might not be Amish anymore, but my brain still works."

"Thank the good Lord for that," Elias muttered and followed Seth inside.

Like always, his modest house's interior brought Seth a sense of comfort. The floors were a dark-stained hickory, the walls a vanilla white. His kitchen had stainless-steel appliances and his living room a large couch covered in fawn-colored suede. The decor was sparse for an English home, fancy for an Amish one, and luxurious by his own standard.

It was also clean and tidy—a consequence of his upbringing, his years incarcerated, and a natural inclination toward order. The house was warm, thanks to the gas fireplace he'd installed last year. Outside, the October weather was crisp. Because the sky was overcast, the inside was shadowy. Until he turned on the lights.

Elias whistled softly. "Last time I came over, we sat out on the porch. When did you connect the electricity?"

"A while back. I figured there was no reason to stay in the dark since I decided not to be baptized in the Amish faith."

"I reckon I would've done the same thing."

Seth led the way into the kitchen. "Would you care for a glass of water? Soda? Coffee?"

"You got coffee made?"

"I don't, but it's no trouble." He headed to the coffee maker.

"Wait. You got a Coke?"

He grinned. Elias looked so hopeful it was almost comical. "I do."

"I'll have that, then."

Seth detoured to the fridge, then opened the door and pulled out two cans of soda. He wasn't particularly thirsty but knew Elias would have something to say if Seth didn't join him.

After handing him one of the cans, Seth sat down on the rocking chair next to the fireplace. The rocker had been his grandfather's. He hardly used it, preferring the comfort of the couch, but there was something in Elias's eyes that put Seth a little on guard. Like he was about to hear something that he was going to need to have all his wits about him for. The hard discomfort of his dawdi's chair would serve that purpose.

"What's the favor, Elias?"

"I want you to talk to Lott."

Lott—Bethanne's younger brother.

Seth had never expected the Hostetlers to thank him for what he'd done. To his surprise, both of Bethanne's parents had come to the prison to thank him in person. And Bethanne had sent him a long letter. In it, she'd not only thanked him for fighting off Peter Miller but also apologized for her decision to leave a gathering with Peter. She was sure what had happened was all her fault, that she should've known better than to go out walking with Peter in the dark.

Seth knew she was wrong. The fault didn't lie with her but with Peter. And Seth was pretty certain he was at fault too. If he hadn't gotten so angry when he spied Bethanne trying to fend off Peter, he might not have pushed him so hard.

Seth had never written Bethanne back, mainly because he knew word would get around that she'd received a letter from the penitentiary. He figured she had enough to bear without being reminded about Peter's attack or having to answer questions about why Seth Zimmerman was writing to her—or both.

Course, he might have jumped the gun. The Hostetler family could have decided that their duty to thank Seth was fulfilled and not wanted to receive letters from a convict. It had felt right to keep his distance from the family since his release. Everyone knew that Bethanne was still having a difficult time moving on. His presence wouldn't help.

And then there was Lott. The kid had a cocky air about him that grated on Seth's nerves. Stories abounded that he was pushing the boundaries a bit. Okay, more than a bit. Seth would've hoped that the guy would have more respect for his parents than that.

But most of all, he didn't think he was anyone's role model. He might not regret helping Bethanne, but he did regret fighting with Peter. He'd let his anger get the best of him. As far as he was concerned, there were many other men in town who would be better suited to offer Lott advice. Starting with Elias himself.

"What do you say, Seth?"

There was only one thing to say. "Nee."

"Nee?"

"Nee, as in no way do I want to speak to Lott Hostetler." Imitating Elias's raised eyebrow, he added, "Is that clear enough for you?"

"It is not. That's about as clear as mud."

Irritated that his friend had brought back a flood of difficult memories, Seth added, "I'm not the right person to speak to Lott. I'm too tied to one of the worst moments in his family's life."

"I disagree. He needs to speak with someone who's had to deal with the consequences of his actions."

Seth stood up, popped open his can of soda, and took a long gulp. "You knew I'd say no. I can't believe you came over anyway."

Elias held up both hands. "I'm not going to deny that I knew this request would be hard for you."

"But you showed up here and asked anyway."

"Whatever. What I'm trying to say is that it took a lot for me to ask this, Seth. You know it." His gray eyes, so unusual, were filled with pain. "Hear me out."

"Fine."

"It's like this. Lott has been a little too wild during his rumspringa. He's been drinking and even fighting from time to time."

"I heard the same things. It's none of my business, though."

"I think differently. He's angry, Seth."

"So?"

"Stop arguing and listen. Seth, I think he's angry because of Bethanne. Because Peter Miller's parents are still wearing black and mourning their son, and Peter's younger brother Joe is walking around whispering that he knows the whole story about what really happened."

Seth shook his head. "Joe doesn't know what he's talking about. Bethanne was sixteen at the time, I was eighteen. Joe was a lot younger."

"I think he was fourteen."

"It doesn't matter how old he was. All I do know is that he wasn't at that gathering. No one that young was there."

"Calm down. Of course Joe wasn't there. But not everyone wants to hear the truth when a made-up story is a lot more interesting, Seth."

Seth clenched his jaw so hard, a dull pain radiated along the back of his neck. "What am I supposed to say to Lott? That he shouldn't be angry that Joe is telling stories? That he shouldn't defend his sister? I'm not going to tell him that." His mind kept clicking. "Or are you looking for someone to tell him to turn the other cheek?"

Elias's expression tightened. "I didn't say any of that."

"You should be glad you didn't, because I'm not going to tell Lott any of it."

"I'm not suggesting that either." Folding his arms across his chest, he sighed.

Seth felt bad for acting like a jerk. But he had enough on his plate without Elias or Lott Hostetler dredging up the past. "Just tell me, then."

Elias leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "John and Martha feel like Lott is at a crossroads. He's been acting out, he's angry. They're hoping you might be able to connect with him in a way that no one has seemed to be able to. Maybe tell Lott more about what happened the night Peter died."

"He knows what happened. If he wants to know more, he should ask his sister."

"Yeah, that ain't gonna happen."

"Because?"

"Because Bethanne refuses to speak of it."

Seth paused. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't lie about that."

He was surprised to hear that. Bethanne's note to him in prison had been long and filled with her feelings about both Peter and Seth's conviction. So, had her parents and brother not given her a chance to tell her side of the story? Or had Bethanne been the one to keep them in the dark for a reason all her own?

Realizing her reasons didn't matter and that he was going to have to visit with Lott, if for no other reason than he owed Elias so much, Seth released a ragged sigh. "Fine."

"You'll do it? You'll speak to Lott?"

He nodded. "I don't see what purpose it will serve, though."

"If you can help Lott cool his heels and find a way to ignore Joe and accept some peace, it will help him and you."

He understood that Lott needed to find some peace, but he had no idea why Elias thought he needed to find some peace. "Why are you worried about me?"

Elias sighed. "Because Lott wants to court Melonie."

"Wait. My baby sister?"

"Seth, Melonie is seventeen and no baby."

"She's too young for a caller." And she deserved someone better than Lott Hostetler.

"You know that ain't true."

"Okay, how about this? Lott is way too full of himself. If he's acting hotheaded about Joe Miller, then he still has some growing up to do. Plus, he's gone out of his way to avoid me."

"I think he's afraid of you."

"Because I'm a killer?" he asked sarcastically.

"No one who was around when all that happened thinks you're some cold-blooded killer. I think he believes that prison hardened you a bit. And he knows you dote on Melonie."

Surviving prison had made him harder, that was true. And he did dote on Mel. Studying Elias, he said, "I can't believe you're involved in all of this."

"I think the Lord knew it was a good idea because everyone needs to forgive each other and move on." He waved a hand. "Bethanne needs to stop hiding and move forward. Lott Hostetler needs to start settling down. And the Millers—especially Joe—need to make peace with Peter's actions and move on." Elias lowered his voice. "Seth, you need to not only forgive yourself for losing your temper when you were trying to help Bethanne but accept that you are still a good man. A worthy man." His eyes twinkled. "Finally, you need to let your sister make up her own mind about Lott."

Man, he wished Elias hadn't shown up at his door. "Elias, not a bit of that is easy."

"I didn't say it would be. But there isn't anything you can do about it either. Time marches on, with or without you. And Lott had already called on Melonie once when Joe Miller started shooting his mouth off about you and Peter and Bethanne."

The whole thing was convoluted and filled with upcoming conversations he'd never wanted to have. But it seemed the Lord had other plans. "I don't have a choice, do I?" Sooner or later he was going to have to speak to Lott.

"Everyone has choices, Seth," Elias drawled, sounding like the wise mentor he so absolutely wasn't. "What you and I and the Lord know, however, is that not every choice is either easy ... or the right one."

Seth closed his eyes. Even though Elias was right, he really wasn't happy about how much of the past was about to be churned up. "I really wish you hadn't come by."

Elias grinned. "Does this mean you're going to talk to Lott?"

Seth nodded. As much as he wished he wasn't, he was invested now. Besides, even if he never saw Bethanne again, he wanted to be close to Melonie. It would be foolish to pretend that his actions and imprisonment didn't affect his sister. They did. There was no way he would ever not do everything he could to help her. She had a hard enough time holding up her head when the whole community somehow thought his actions tainted her reputation.

"Jah. I'll talk to him."

His old friend grinned. "Gut. I told him you'd stop by one evening this week."

Elias had totally played him. "I hate you so much right now." Sure, Seth was joking, but at the moment the sentiment felt real.

"No, you don't." Elias's smile proved he hadn't taken offense. "You could never hate me."

"And you know this how?"

"Because I could never hate you, Seth Zimmerman. You're one of the best men I've ever met."

Seth mumbled something about having to go to the bathroom as he strode down the hall. It was either that or let Elias see the tears that were threatening to fall.

He couldn't have that.