Chapter 6

Lott Hostetler was in trouble again. Unfortunately, this was nothing new. Of late, everything in his life seemed to set him off, and that was a far sight too much. Worse, no matter how hard he prayed or cautioned himself, he couldn't seem to control his actions. Or listen to his parents' advice.

Now, to his dismay, he was being forced to talk to none other than Seth Zimmerman. Not only was Seth former Amish but he'd served time in prison. The man was an ex-con. Sure, he'd gotten there by trying to help Lott's sister, but that almost made everything seem worse. People said that Seth's hard punch had knocked Peter down to the ground. It wasn't the punch that killed him. It was the rock that Peter had landed on. It kind of sounded like an accident, but the judge still made him serve time for it.

Ever since that night, Bethanne had been quiet and timid. She kept to herself even though the bishop had spent a lot of time trying to convince Bethy that neither Peter's death nor Seth's incarceration was her fault. She thought otherwise. So, things were bad at his house. He did things he shouldn't while his sister didn't do anything. The last thing he needed was to chat with Seth Zimmerman about life. Wasn't it time for all of them to leave the past in the past?

As far as Lott was concerned, his life would be a whole lot easier if Seth had never returned to Crittenden County. Maybe if he'd gone somewhere else when he'd gotten released, everyone could pretend that the man didn't exist. Especially since Lott was hung up on Seth's sister.

Even thinking about Melonie made him feel out of control. Blond like her older brother and with the same blue eyes, Melonie was pretty and sweet and good. Too good for Lott to be half in love with her too.

But no matter how hard Lott tried to stay away, he couldn't help himself. He couldn't stay away from her any more than he could wish for time to go backward. It was what it was.

The low purr of an engine brought him back to the present. When he spied Seth's silver truck pull into their driveway, resentment hit him hard. Boy, he hated Elias Weaver right now. Elias had finagled this meeting, and Lott's parents were practically buzzing, they were so sure that Seth Zimmerman's words would put Lott back on the straight and narrow.

He knew that wasn't going to happen.

As Lott watched from the living room window, Seth climbed out of the truck's cab and sauntered toward the house. Here this guy was, practically pushing the fact that he'd left the order in his face. No, in all of their faces. The only reason Lott hadn't taken off an hour ago was because he had nowhere else to go. His parents had been watching him like a hawk.

Lott ground his teeth.

His father, who had been sitting with him, must have noticed. "Lott, I hope you'll have a real conversation with Seth. Try to listen to what he has to say. It was good of him to come over here. You should take his advice and consider it well."

"I canna believe you want me to talk to him. We don't have anything in common."

"I disagree," Daed murmured.

As he stepped onto the porch, Seth pulled off his sunglasses and put them in a pocket of his barn jacket. It had been a while since Lott had seen the man up so close. He was big—at least six feet—and muscular too. But it was those eyes of his that made Lott's mouth go dry. Whereas Melonie's eyes were filled with wonder and grace, Seth's were hard and calculating. No one was going to be able to get away with much around Seth Zimmerman.

He knocked on the door. Two short raps.

"Daed, what about Mamm?" Lott asked. "Aren't you worried about her being in the same house as him?" He knew he was grasping at straws, but he needed some kind of an excuse to get out of the conversation.

"Of course not. She's fond of Seth. She and I both are."

His parents were so naive. "Daed—"

His father got to his feet, his voice icy. "Lott, I don't tell you this often enough, but I want you to listen to me now. Don't ignore me and don't be disrespectful to Seth either. He's doing you a favor coming over here."

Lott doubted Seth had anything else going on in his life, but he was smart enough not to talk back to his father. "I'll listen." At least, he would look like he was listening. He didn't care what his parents said. Seth might be fooling some folks with his do-gooder attitude, but Lott knew better.

His father stared at him for a long moment before clasping him on the shoulder. "Gut." He went to the door, opened it, and greeted Seth, and the two shook hands. "It's good to see you. It's been far too long." Then the door closed as his father joined Seth on the porch.

His father hadn't called for him, so Lott figured he could stay where he was. It might have been cowardly, but that gave him some time to get a better look at the man.

He thought back. Until now, the closest he'd been to Seth in the last year was when they were on opposite sides of the farmers' market. Seth had been buying up a ton of fruits and vegetables. Way more than for just one person. He'd surmised that Seth must have been buying food for one of his ex-con friends.

Well, that had been what a couple of the guys Lott had been with said. Gossiping about Seth was a favorite pastime. Actually, they all talked about him a lot when there wasn't anyone around to overhear them. That's when they guessed about what being in prison was like. They'd wondered if any of the other men discovered that Seth had been Amish—and if he'd had to fight a lot or if he'd been hurt or what he'd done to survive. They'd all agreed that he must have changed somehow. One didn't walk out of a penitentiary without scars.

At least, Lott didn't think so.

Now, here he was, still seated in his living room, waiting to be summoned. To Lott's surprise, they didn't come inside right away. Instead, they chatted for a few minutes. Lott watched Seth's posture ease and a hint of a smile play across his features. It was almost like his father and Seth were friends.

How could that be? As far as he knew, neither of his parents ever mentioned Seth Zimmerman. Did they meet with him in secret? Or did they just not speak about Seth to Lott, just like they never mentioned what happened to Bethanne? That possibility floored Lott. Sometimes, his parents' silence had bothered him so much, he'd wondered if they'd forgotten that Bethanne had been attacked.

But of course they hadn't.

Getting to his feet, Lott continued to watch the two of them talk. Wondered how long he was going to have to wait. And then practically swallowed his tongue when Seth turned and looked directly at him through the window. Even from the distance, Seth's eyes still looked hard and cold. They also seemed to see too much.

A chill ran through Lott, but he did his best not to act like anything was amiss. He attempted to look bored as he stared right back at Seth. Then tried not to shy away when Seth didn't avert his gaze.

Natural curiosity won over as Lott's eyes drifted over the man's features. Seth had a nose that had obviously been broken once and never set right, sharp cheekbones, a light tan, and no beard. He was wearing jeans and Red Wings, and his black long-sleeved knit shirt was tucked in, showing that Seth's body was strong and fit.

No, that was putting it mildly. Seth was not only a good four inches taller than Lott, he was also probably seventy or eighty pounds heavier. And not because he had fat on him. No, everything about the man looked muscular and hard. Like he wouldn't need to think twice about grabbing someone if he had a mind to do it.

Lott's mouth went dry. Had Seth always been that way? Or had all that time in prison done it?

Realizing that Seth was still watching him, Lott swallowed hard. Man, he wished he hadn't stayed in the house instead of joining his father. Now he had to sit here and wait. Instead of feeling like he was in the right, Lott felt small. Like a foolish child pretending to be someone he wasn't.

Maybe someone he'd never been.

As if his father had suddenly realized that Lott wasn't standing with them, he called him outside.

Lott joined them on the porch.

Seth inclined his head but didn't say anything.

"Lott, you know Seth, jah?"

"Yeah."

His father frowned at his poor manners. "Lott—"

"It's all right," Seth said. "We know each other but not all that well. Apart from work, we don't have a reason to speak to each other."

He was right. They didn't. Unless one counted the fact that Seth had saved his older sister from getting raped. Lott felt his cheeks heat.

"I'm sure Martha has put out a spread for you. Come on in."

Seth seemed taken aback. "There was no need to go to any trouble, John."

"You might not think so, but Martha and I feel differently." Treating Lott to a look that said everything about behaving himself, Daed opened the door and gestured for Seth to proceed both him and Lott.

Seth paused at the door. "Your floor looks shiny. Martha must have just washed it."

"Likely so. She's been looking forward to your visit."

"Should I take my shoes off?"

"If they're muddy, yes. Otherwise, there's no need."

Their guest looked down at his feet like he had to double-check his shoes' condition, then he followed Daed into the parlor.

Lott closed the door behind them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever noticed when his mother had mopped.

"Go straight into the parlor, Son."

This was getting worse and worse. The only time Mamm ever allowed them in the parlor was when either Preacher Zachariah or Bishop Wood came calling.

Lott followed Seth in, being careful to keep his distance.

"Welcome to our home, Seth." Wearing a dark gray dress with a white apron and her white kapp, Mamm approached. "I'm sorry that we haven't had you over until now."

"No apology needed, ma'am. I understood."

Sympathy filled his mother's gaze, but she nodded. "Help yourself to some sandwiches or cookies. Would you care for water or kaffi? The kaffi is fresh."

"Coffee sounds mighty gut. Danke."

"Lott?"

"Jah?"

Her eyebrows raised. "What do you want to drink?"

"Kaffi?"

"All right. Sit down and I'll bring it to you."

Lott glanced at his father. "What about Daed?"

"I'm not staying," his father said. "Get yourself something to eat and sit down."

Lott wasn't hungry, but he did as he was told. Seth also didn't seem too enthused, but he helped himself to a plate of sandwiches and a handful of cookies.

Just as tension began to rise between the two of them again, his mother returned. "Here you go, Seth," she said as she handed him a steaming cup. "And here you go, Lott."

"Danke, Martha," Seth said.

"It's no trouble." Smiling at his plate, she said, "Do you have a sweet tooth?"

Seth chuckled. "I reckon I do. I don't have much of an occasion to buy sweets."

"I'll make sure to send some home with you."

"That's very kind of ya. Danke."

And then, before he was ready, Lott was alone with Seth. By this time, Seth had already eaten three of the four sandwich squares and two of the cookies. He was studying Lott like he was trying to figure him out.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm wondering what's got you in such a state. Is it me? Is it my past? Or is it something else? Are you this grumpy all the time?"

"Grumpy?"

"I respect your parents enough to keep my mouth G-rated. I'm thinking of something a little more pointed."

"My parents can't hear you. Say whatever you want."

"Is that what you're doing?" He waved a hand. "Are you saying everything you're thinking?"

"Nee." Lott felt a line of perspiration trickle down the center of his back. He was starting to feel like he was in over his head. "I'm not a kid, you know."

"I know." He ate another cookie. "Where's Bethanne?"

"She's likely upstairs in her room. She likes to keep to herself."

Seth seemed to think on that for a moment. Then he fastened a cold gaze on him. "I heard you've been trying to spend time with my sister."

Seth's voice was soft. Almost like a whisper. The question was mild. If he hadn't been so stressed, Lott might not have even heard the touch of judgment in his tone.

But he had.

His guard went up as he felt the full weight of the other man's gaze settle on him. Seth was obviously taking his measure and finding him wanting. Lott's mouth turned dry. He should have known this was coming. Melonie was so kind and proper, it was easy to forget that Seth was her brother. "I've paid a call on her." He cleared his throat. "Once."

"Only once?" His eyes narrowed.

"I've been visiting with her for a while but have paid only one formal call."

Seth's lips thinned. "Do you like her?"

That was a loaded question if he'd ever heard one. So he lied. "I don't know."

One eyebrow rose. "You've been seeing my little sister without even being sure if you like her or not?"

Lott was digging himself deeper into a hole. A hole that he hadn't even seen coming. "I don't know."

Seth leaned forward, his expression hard. "I sure hope you aren't playing games with her."

"I'm not."

"You'd better not." After staring at him a minute longer, Seth rubbed the back of his neck.

"Lott, Elias asked me to come talk to you. Do you know why?"

"Nope."

Seth looked down a moment, then back at him. "Boy, I respect your parents and have a soft spot for your sister. I also am beholden enough to Elias Weaver to come over here and spend time with you. But that said, I'm losing patience with your attitude."

"There's no reason for me to be saying anything, because I have no idea why you're here." Unless it was to warn him off from Melonie.

"Let me be real clear, then. Elias told me about your temper. I asked around and heard about some of the other stuff you've been doing." He lowered his voice. "You've been drinking and carousing and making one bad choice after the next."

"It's allowed. I'm in rumspringa."

Seth sneered. "Give that excuse to someone who cares. The road you're going down is a rough one. You can't go through life imagining you'll have no consequences. You need to stop acting as if you're invincible."

"I'm not doing that."

"People say differently. Listen, no one is above the law. Even when you think that everyone will save you or that they'll intervene because you're a sheltered Amish boy, you learn real fast that ain't the case."

"I'm not going to kill anyone, Seth." At Seth's dark look, Lott felt his face heat up.

"I hope not. You don't want to live with that knowledge for the rest of your life, and you sure don't want to feel the guilt and pain that I have."

"I won't."

"I hope that's true."

Lott was shaken by Seth's words, but he tried not to show it. Right now he didn't have much pride left. He felt like he had hardly anything to stand on. If Lott allowed himself to be vulnerable, Seth might realize just what a mess he actually was.

Looking at him intently, Seth stood up. "I'm out of here. But before I go, I'm gonna leave you with this. When you're sitting here in this nice room where everything is clean and quiet and safe, it's easy to drift into a false sense of security. By and large, the folks here in Crittenden County are good. They give their neighbors space. Try to be polite. Sometimes, they might even give you the benefit of the doubt."

Lowering his voice, he continued. "Maybe so much, you start to believe you have the right to do whatever you want and be forgiven. Like maybe your sins aren't all that bad. You might even convince yourself that twenty-four months ain't a real long time to be behind bars." His jaw hardened as he averted his eyes. "But it is. Three days feels like a long time. And even those first three hours feel too long."

It was taking everything Lott had to not tremble. "Is all this talk because you don't want me around Melonie?"

"It's one of the reasons. My sister might not want to listen to me and she might never want to believe a thing I say. But she's precious to me, and I don't want her to get hurt." His eyes turned to ice. "If I begin to think that you're doing anything less than respecting her the way she deserves, I'm going to step in. And then I'll do whatever I can to make sure that she's free of you."

Lott swallowed. "That sounds like a threat."

"You're wrong, boy. It's not a threat, it's a promise. You'd best not forget that."

····

Later, long after Seth Zimmerman left, Lott's parents grilled him about their conversation. Then Bethanne came downstairs, they had supper, and Lott did his chores in the barn. After that, he lay in bed and thought about Melonie and her parents and how they didn't like having much to do with Seth. He remembered the man's voice and the pain in his eyes. Finally, he thought about his own family. The way his mother greeted Seth. The fact that Elias had asked Seth to come over.

A dark feeling grabbed ahold of Lott and pulled hard. As much as he didn't want to believe it, he was afraid that some of what Seth had warned him about did have merit. Maybe he had taken a wrong turn. Maybe he had been thinking about and attempting to do some things that he shouldn't. And maybe Seth had been right that some of what he'd been doing did have consequences.

He wasn't anxious to discover what those were.