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THREE

Rachel’s reaction to his statement was obvious. Shock battled anger for control.

That was what he’d felt, too, since the attorney told him about old Mr. Unger’s attempt to buy the place. He’d hoped the lawyer would say his mother had been imagining things. Instead, his words seemed to confirm her suspicions.

Rachel took a breath, obviously trying to control her anger. She held both hands out, palms pushing away, her expression that of one who tries to calm a maniac. “I think you should leave now.”

“And give you time to come up with a reasonable explanation? I’d rather have the truth.”

Her green eyes sparked fire. “I don’t need to come up with anything. You’re the one making ridiculous accusations.”

“Is it ridiculous? My grandfather claimed someone was trying to cheat him. Your grandfather tried repeatedly to buy his property. How else do you add those things up?”

“Not the way you do, obviously. There’s a difference between buying and cheating someone. If your grandfather thought the offer low, he didn’t have to sell.” She flung out a hand toward the portrait that hung over the fireplace mantel. “Look at my grandfather. Does he look like someone who’d try to cheat a neighbor?”

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Still, he had to admit that the face staring out from the frame had a quality of judicious fairness that made the idea seem remote.

She gave a quick shake of her head, as if giving up on him. “This is getting us nowhere. I’m sorry for your problems, but I can’t help you. I’ll be glad to refund your money if you want to check out.” She stood very stiffly, her face pale and set.

He’d blown it. He’d acted on impulse, blurting out his suspicions, and now he wouldn’t get a thing from her. Time to regroup.

“Look, I’m sorry for coming out with it that way. Can we sit down and talk this over rationally?”

Anger flashed in those green eyes. “Now you want to be rational? You’re the one who started this with your ridiculous accusations.”

He took a breath. He needed cooperation from Rachel if he were going to get anywhere. “Believe it or not, I felt as if I’d been hit by a two-by-four when I heard what Grassley, the attorney, had to say. Just hear me out. Then I’ll leave if you want.”

Rachel looked as if she were counting to ten. Finally she nodded. She waved him to the sofa and pulled the desk chair over for herself. She sat, planting her hands on its arms and looking ready to launch herself out of the chair at the slightest wrong word.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, trying to pull his thoughts into some sort of order. He was a logical person, so why couldn’t he approach this situation logically?

Maybe he knew the answer to that one. Grief and guilt could be a powerful combination. He’d never realized how strong until the past few weeks.

“You have to understand—I had no idea all this was festering in my mother’s mind. She didn’t talk about her childhood, and I barely knew her father. I’d been here once, before I came for my grandfather’s funeral.”

She nodded. “You told me that. I thought then that there must have been some breach between your mother and your grandfather.”

So she’d seen immediately what he’d have recognized if he weren’t so used to the situation. “I never knew anything about it. My father may have known, but he died when I was in high school.”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes darkened with sympathy, in spite of the fact that she must still be angry with him.

“My mother had always been—” He struggled to find the right word. “Secretive, I guess you’d say. After my father died, she started turning to me more. Change the lightbulbs, have the car serviced, talk to the neighbors about their barking dog. But she never shared anything about her finances or business matters. I knew my father had left her well off, so I didn’t pry. That’s why I didn’t have any idea she still owned the property here.”

“I suppose she let the attorney take care of anything that had to be done. I’m surprised he didn’t urge her to sell—to my grandfather or anyone else.” Her voice was tart.

“He did, apparently, but he said she’d never even discuss it. She didn’t with me until her illness.” It had been hard to see her go downhill so quickly, hard to believe that none of the treatments were doing any good.

“What was it?”

“Cancer. When she realized she wasn’t recovering, that’s when she started to talk.” He paused. “She’d left it late. She was on pain medication, not making much sense. But she said what I told you—that her father had insisted he was being cheated, that everyone was out to take advantage of him.”

“That sounds as if he felt—well, that he thought he was being persecuted. How can you know that any of what he told her was true?”

“I can’t. But she thought there were things about his death that had never been explained. She regretted that she’d never attempted to find out. She demanded my promise that I’d try to learn the truth.”

His hands clenched. He’d told Rachel more than he’d intended. If she knew about what had happened then—but that was ridiculous. She’d been a child twenty-two years ago. At most, she’d oppose him now out of a need to protect her grandfather’s reputation.

“I can understand why you feel you have to honor her wishes,” she said, looking as if she chose her words carefully. “But after all this time, how can you possibly hope to learn anything?”

“I thought I might talk to your grandmother—”

“No!” She flared up instantly at that. “I won’t have my grandmother upset by this.”

A step sounded from the hallway, and they both turned. “That is not your decision to make, Rachel.” Rachel’s grandmother stood in the doorway, her bearing regal, her face set and stern.

Rachel’s throat tightened. Grams, standing there, hearing the suspicions Tyler was voicing. She’d like to throw something at him for causing all this trouble, but that wouldn’t help.

“Now, Grams…” She had to think of something that would repair this situation. Protecting Grams was her responsibility.

She stood and went to her, the desk chair rolling backward from the pressure of her hands. She put her arm around her grandmother’s waist.

Grams didn’t seem to need her support. She had pride and dignity to keep her upright.

“Don’t ‘now, Grams,’ me, Rachel Elizabeth. I know what I heard, and I don’t require any soothing platitudes.”

Rachel shot a fulminating glance at Tyler. At least he had the grace to look unhappy at this turn of events. He’d look worse when she finished telling him what she thought.

“Grams, I’m sure you misunderstood.” She tried for a light tone. “You always told us that eavesdroppers never hear anything good, remember?”

Grams ignored her, staring steadily at Tyler. “I must apologize. I’m not in the habit of listening in on other people’s conversations, but you were both too busy arguing to realize I was there.”

“I just want to protect you—” Rachel began.

Her grandmother cut her short with a look. “I don’t require protection. I knew my husband well enough to be quite confident that he’d never have been involved in anything underhanded. I have nothing to fear from Mr. Dunn’s inquiry.”

“Of course not, but it’s still upsetting. Please, Grams, let me handle this.”

Her only response was to move to her armchair and be seated, folding her hands in her lap. “I’ll answer any question you wish to ask.” She glanced up at the portrait. “The truth can’t harm my husband.”

Grams might want to believe that, but Rachel wasn’t so sure. Of course she knew Grandfather had been perfectly honest, but rumors, once started, could be difficult to stop.

She glanced at Tyler. He looked as if getting what he wanted had taken him by surprise.

“It’s very good of you to agree to talk with me about this.” He’d apparently decided on a formal approach. Good. If she caught the slightest whiff of disrespect, he’d be out of here before he knew what hit him.

Grams inclined her head graciously. “I don’t know that I have much to offer. My husband only discussed business with me in very general terms.”

Tyler’s mouth tightened fractionally. “Start by telling me what you remember about John Hostetler. You must have known him, since you were such close neighbors.”

“I knew him. Knew of him, certainly. He was a rather difficult person, from everything I recall. After his wife died, he became bitter, cutting himself off from the community.”

“Do you know if your husband had any business dealings with him? Did he talk to you about wanting to buy the place?”

She frowned. “I don’t remember, but if he did, it would be in his ledgers. Rachel will make them available to you.”

She swallowed the protest that sprang to her lips. Tyler could strain his eyes looking through decades of her grandfather’s fine black script, and he wouldn’t find anything wrong.

“That’s kind of you.” Tyler seemed taken aback by that kindness, but that was her grandmother. “Do you know of anyone he was on bad terms with?”

A faint smile rippled on Grams’s expression. “It might be easier to ask with whom he didn’t quarrel. I don’t mean to speak ill of him, but it’s fairly well known that he argued with just about everyone.”

“I remember a visit we made when I was about six. Certainly he and my mother seemed to battle most of the time.”

“I’m afraid that was his nature.” Grams spread her hands. “I don’t know what else I can say. After his death, the neighbors were concerned about the condition of the farm. Several of them came to Fredrick about it, I remember that.” She glanced up at the portrait again. “If he did try to buy it, I’m sure that’s why.”

He nodded, not offering any comment. It was what Rachel had told him, too, but she didn’t think he was convinced. He wouldn’t understand her grandfather’s almost-feudal-lord position in the community. Everyone, Amish and English alike, had come to him with their concerns.

“Do you remember anything about the robbery and his death?”

Grams moved slightly, and Rachel was instantly on the alert. This questioning bothered her grandmother more than she’d want to admit.

“I know we were shocked. Everyone was.”

She put her arm around her grandmother. “Of course they were.” She darted him a look. “I think my grandmother has told you everything she can.”

Grams gave Tyler a level look. “I have, but if there’s anything else…”

“Not right now.” Tyler seemed to know he’d pushed enough.

Grams rose. “We’ll cooperate in any way we can. It’s what my husband would wish.” She turned toward the kitchen and walked away steadily.

Rachel hesitated. She wanted his promise that this wasn’t going to be all over the township by sunset, but she didn’t want to say that where Grams could hear. She’d better make sure Grams was safely in the kitchen with Emma.

“Would you mind sticking around for a minute or two while I speak to Emma? I could use some help moving that ladder.”

He nodded, his expression telling her he understood what she wasn’t saying. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

By the time she went out the front door a few minutes later, Rachel knew exactly how she should behave. She’d talk with Tyler very calmly, explaining the harm that could be done to her grandmother by careless talk. She’d make it clear that they’d already done everything he’d asked of them and that there really was nothing else they could contribute.

She would not express the anger she felt. She’d extended friendship to the man, and all the time he’d been using her to pry into her family.

He waited by the ladder she’d left propped against the house, his leather jacket hanging open in the warmth of the afternoon sunshine. He straightened when he saw her. “Is your grandmother all right?”

“She didn’t like being cross-examined,” she said sharply, and then snapped her mouth shut on the words. If she wanted discretion from Tyler, she’d better try a little tact of her own. “She was telling you the truth.” Katherine Unger was not someone who’d lie to cover up her own or anyone else’s misdeeds.

He gave her a slight smile. “I know. Do you think I don’t recognize integrity when I see it?”

“I was afraid your judgment might be skewed by your need to find out about your grandfather.”

“Look, I said I was sorry for jumping on you with it. I want to be fair about it.”

Did he mean that? She hoped so. “There’s one thing you said to me that you didn’t mention to my grandmother.”

He frowned. “What’s that?”

He knew. He had to. “You said your mother didn’t think her father’s death had been adequately explained. You called it murder.”

The word seemed to stand there between them, stark and ugly.

He was silent for a long moment, and then he shook his head. “I don’t know, Rachel. That’s the truth. I can tell you what my mother said. What she seemed to believe. As to whether it had any basis in fact—” he shrugged “—I guess that’s what I have to find out.”

“I hope—” She stopped. Would he think she was trying to control his actions? Well, in a way, she was.

“What do you hope?” He focused on her, eyes intent.

“I hope you’ll be discreet with the questions you ask people around here, especially anything to do with my grandparents. It doesn’t take much to set rumors flying in a small community like this.”

“Your grandmother didn’t seem to be worried about that.”

No, she wouldn’t worry about people talking when she felt she was doing what was right.

“Grams can be naive about some things. If the rumor mill starts churning, the situation will be difficult for her. So be tactful, will you please?”

“I’ll try.” He took a step back from the wooden stepladder as she approached it. “I’m not here to stir up trouble for innocent people.”

“Sometimes innocent people get hurt by the backlash.” She bent to plug the end of the string of lights into the outlet.

“I can’t let that stop me from looking for the truth.” His jaw set like a stone.

“And I won’t let anything stop me from protecting my family,” she said. “Just so we’re clear.”

“We’re clear. Does that mean you want me to move out?”

It was tempting to say yes, but it was safer to have Tyler where she could keep track of him. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” She started up the ladder, the loop of lights in her hand.

“Thank you. And since I’m staying, I’d be glad to climb up and do that for you. I wouldn’t have to stretch as far.”

“I can reach.” If she stood on the top step on her tiptoes, she could.

She looped the string of lights over the small metal hook that was left in the window frame from year to year. Pulling the string taut, she grasped it and leaned toward the other side.

She stretched, aware of him watching her, and pushed the wire toward the hook—

“Wait!” Tyler barked.

The wire touched the hook—a sharp snap, a scent of burning, a jolt that knocked her backward off the ladder and sent her flying toward the ground, stunned.

FOUR

“I’m fine. Really.” Rachel tried to muster a convincing tone, but if she looked half as shaken as she felt, it was hardly surprising that Tyler wanted to rush her to the hospital.

“You don’t look fine.” He had a firm hold on her arm, and he didn’t seem inclined to let go any time soon. “My car’s right there. If you won’t go to the E.R., at least let that local doctor you were talking to have a look.”

“I don’t need Dr. Whitmoyer to look at me.” She rubbed her hands together, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation. “It just knocked the wind out of me, that’s all.”

He still seemed doubtful, but finally he gave a reluctant nod. “I’ll help you inside.”

“No.” She tried to pull her arm free, but he continued to propel her toward the door. “Look, I don’t want my grandmother upset, okay? She’s been worried enough about me since the accident, and the last thing she needs is any fresh reason to fear. Besides, she’s already had her quota of crises today.”

Tyler’s face settled in a frown, but at least he stopped pulling her toward the door. “That’s dirty pool, you know that?”

“I’ll do whatever works where Grams is concerned. She may think she’s still as tough as she always was, but that’s not true.”

After her accident and then Andrea’s brush with death in the early summer, Grams had shown a fragility that had hit both of them hard. She was doing much better now—confident that the inn would succeed, happy about Andrea’s wedding. Nothing must disrupt that.

Tyler urged her toward the step. “Sit down and get your breath back, at least. When I saw the power arc and you fly backward, I thought my heart would stop.”

“Sorry about that.” She managed a smile as she sank down on the low stone step. It was nice of him to be so concerned about her. “I felt a bit scared myself, not that I had time to think about it. Is it my imagination, or did you tell me to stop just before I touched the hook?”

He nodded, putting one foot on the step and leaning his elbow on his knee as he bent toward her. “A second too late. I caught a glimpse of bare wire where the sun glinted on it. Sorry I didn’t see it sooner. And sorry you didn’t think to check those lights before you plugged them in.”

“I’ll admit that wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did, but I did look over them when I got the box out of the attic. At least—” She stopped, thinking about it.

“Well?”

She glared at him. “I think I checked them, but I was in a rush to get ready for last night’s meeting.” She’d shoved the box in the downstairs restroom when she’d realized how late it was. Maybe she had missed some of the strings.

Tyler, apparently feeling it wiser not to pursue the conversation, walked over to the stepladder and cautiously detached the string of lights. He frowned down at it for a moment before carrying it back to her.

“There’s the culprit.” He held the strand between his hands. Green plastic coating had melted away from a foot-long stretch of cord, and the wire between was blackened and mangled, shreds of metal twisting up like frizzled hair. The acrid smell of it turned her stomach.

“Guess I won’t be using that string of lights anytime soon.” It took an effort to speak lightly.

“Or ever.” He was still frowning, the cord stretched taut between his hands. “That’s a lot of bare wire.”

She shrugged, trying to push away the creeping sensation on the back of her neck. “All’s well that ends well. I’m relatively unscathed, and I’d better get back to work.”

“Sit still.” He softened the command with a half smile. “Sorry, but you look washed out.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Now he grinned, his face relaxing. “Just let me see if this blew a fuse before you do anything else.”

She hadn’t even thought of that, so she leaned back against the step, watching him test the heavy-duty extension cord on a fresh strip of lights.

“Looks okay. Actually that’s surprising. Usually the wiring in these old places isn’t in great shape.”

“You should see the maze of wires in the cellar. It’s an electrician’s nightmare, but it all seems to work. We did have to have the wiring checked out before we could open the inn, of course.”

He gazed up at the house. “It’s early eighteenth century, isn’t it?”

“I guess an architect would know. The oldest part dates to 1725, according to the records.”

“It’s been in your family ever since?”

“Pretty much. My maternal grandfather’s family, the Ungers, that is.”

He was probably making conversation to distract her from the fact that he was going over each strand of lights in the box, checking all of them methodically with eyes and hands.

Well, she wouldn’t object to that. She was happy enough just to sit here, feeling the sun’s warmth chase the winter chill away.

“Satisfied?” she asked when he’d put gone through every one.

“They’re in better shape than I expected.” He frowned a little. “You’d think if one was that bad, some of the others would show similar signs.”

“Maybe a squirrel tried to make a meal of it, didn’t like the taste, and left the rest alone.”

“Could be.” He picked up a strand of lights and mounted the stepladder.

“What are you doing?” She stood, fighting a wave of dizziness at the sudden movement. “I’ll take care of that.”

“I’ve got it.”

She’d keep arguing, but he really was getting the job accomplished more easily than she could, given his height. She watched, liking the neat efficiency of his movements, the capability of his strong hands. She was used to doing for herself, and in the months of running the inn she’d learned how to do all kinds of things she’d never dreamed of before, but it was nice to have some help.

She couldn’t rely on him. Not Tyler, of all people, given what brought him here. That galvanized her, and she went quickly to the stepladder.

“I’m sure you have work of your own to do.” Such as investigating his grandfather’s death.

“This is the least I can do, since your grandmother offered your cooperation in dealing with my problem.”

“That’s not exactly what she said.”

He smiled faintly but continued to thread the cord through the hooks.

And if she did help him, what then? She was as convinced as Grams that Grandfather hadn’t done anything wrong.

She watched Tyler, frowning a little, trying to pinpoint the cause of her uneasiness. No matter how irrational it was, she couldn’t help feeling that Tyler’s determination to look into his grandfather’s death was similar to poking a stick into a hornet’s nest.

Rachel searched through the changes she was attempting to make to the inn’s Web site. Did she have everything right? Andrea could probably have done this in half an hour, but she’d been working for what seemed like hours.

She glanced at the ornate German mantel clock that stood on one side of her grandfather’s portrait above the fireplace. Nearly ten. It had been hours. Grams had gone up to bed some time ago, but Barney still dozed on the hearth rug, keeping her company.

She smiled at the sheltie, and he lifted his head and looked at her as if he’d sensed her movement. “Just a little longer, Barney. I’m almost finished.”

He put his head back on his front paws, as if he’d understood every word.

Tyler had gone out earlier and hadn’t come back yet. She certainly wouldn’t wait up for him, although she’d had difficulty all summer going to bed when guests were still out. He had a key—he’d let himself in.

Thinking about that opened the door to thoughts of him, just when she’d succeeded in submerging her concerns about Tyler in her more prosaic worries.

If she could stay angry with him, dealing with the situation might be easier. Unfortunately, each time he had her thoroughly riled, he managed to show her some side of himself that roused her sympathy.

Tyler was determined to give this quest his best effort, and she’d guess he brought that same single-minded attention to every project he undertook. That would be an asset in his profession, but at the moment she wished he were more easily distracted.

He’d had a difficult relationship with his mother—that much was clear. She sympathized, given her own mother, who was as careless with people as she was with things. She’d always had the sense that her mother could have left her behind on one of their frequent moves and not even noticed she was gone. Not that Andrea would have let that happen.

She rubbed her temples, trying to ease away the tightness there.

I’m spinning in circles, Lord, and I don’t know how to stop. Please help me see Tyler through Your eyes and understand how to deal with him in the way You want.

Even as she finished the prayer, she heard the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by Tyler’s step in the hallway. She paused, fingers on the keyboard, listening for him to go up the stairs.

Instead he swung the library door a bit farther open and looked around it. “Still working? I didn’t realize bed-and-breakfast proprietors kept such late hours.”

“It’s pretty much a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, but at the moment I’m just trying to finish up some changes to the Web page. Not my strong suit, I’m afraid.”

“Mind if I have a look?” He hesitated, seeming to wait for an invitation.

“Please. I think I have it right, but I’m almost afraid to try and upload it.”

He smiled, putting one hand on the back of her chair and leaning over to stare at the screen.

“Never let the computer know you’re afraid of it. That’s when it will do something totally unexpected.”

“Just about anything to do with it is unexpected as far as I’m concerned. I’d still be keeping reservations in a handwritten log if Andrea hadn’t intervened.”

“Andrea. That’s the older sister, right?” He reached around her to touch the keyboard, correcting a typo she hadn’t noticed.

“Two years older.” She tried not to think about how close he was. “She and her new husband are on their honeymoon. Somehow I don’t think I can call and ask her computer questions at the moment.”

“Probably wouldn’t be diplomatic,” he agreed. “As far as I can see, this looks ready. All you have to do is upload.”

She hesitated, cursor poised. “That’s it?”

“Just click.” He smiled down at her, giving her a slightly inverted view of his face, exposing a tiny scar on his square chin that she hadn’t noticed before.

And shouldn’t be noticing now. She was entirely too aware of him for her own peace of mind.

She forced her attention back to the computer and pressed the button, starting the upload. “I can see you’re a fixer, just like my big sister. She’s always willing to take over and do something for the inept.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she heard how they sounded and was embarrassed. She thought she’d gotten over the feeling that she would never measure up to Andrea. And if she hadn’t, she certainly didn’t want to sound insecure to Tyler.

“There’s nothing wrong with admitting you don’t know how to do something. I couldn’t make a quiche if someone offered me a million bucks.”

“It’s nice of you to put it that way.” She leaned back, looking with faint surprise at the updated Web site. “It actually worked.”

“You sound impressed. The program you’re using is pretty much ‘what you see is what you get.’”

“I seem to remember Andrea saying that. She actually told me how to do it, but my brain doesn’t retain things like that.”

Tyler’s smile flickered. “Maybe you should write it up as if it’s a recipe.”

“Just might work.” She smiled up at him, relaxing now that the work was done. For a moment time seemed to halt. She was lost in the deep blue of his eyes, the room so quiet she could hear his breathing.

She drew in a strangled breath of her own and broke the eye contact, grateful he couldn’t know how her pulse was pounding.

That was unexpected. Or was it? Hadn’t the attraction been there, underlying the tension, each time they were together?

Tyler cleared his throat. “You know, you could hire someone to run the Web site for you.” He seemed to be talking at random, as much at a loss as she was.

Oddly enough, that helped her regain her poise. “Can’t afford it,” she said bluntly. “We’re operating on a shoestring as it is, and it’s getting a bit frayed at the moment.”

He blinked. “I didn’t realize. I mean—” His gesture took in the room, but she understood that he meant the house and grounds, too. “People who live in places like this often don’t have to count their pennies.”

“That’s why it’s a bed-and-breakfast.” She wasn’t usually so forthcoming, but it wasn’t anything that everyone in the township didn’t already know. And probably would be happy to gossip about. “If Grams is going to keep the place, this seems her only option. Luckily, she’s a born hostess, and she’s enjoying it. Otherwise, she’d have to sell.”

“She doesn’t want to do that, so you feel you have to help her.”

“Not exactly. I mean, I love it, too.” Was it possible he’d understand her feelings? “But even if I didn’t, Grams was always there for us when our parents weren’t. I owe her.”

“I take it your folks had a rocky marriage.”

“You could say that. My father left more times than I can count, until finally he just didn’t come back.”

“That’s when you lived with your grandparents?”

She nodded. “They were our rock. Now it’s our turn. I’ll do whatever is necessary to make this work for Grams.”

His face seemed to become guarded, although his voice, when he spoke, was light. “Even if it means learning how to do the Web site.”

“Only until Andrea comes back.” She frowned, thinking of yet another chore. “I guess I really should put some Christmas photos up, too. She and Cal won’t be home in time to do that.”

“If you get stuck, just give me a shout.” He turned away, his expression still somehow distant.

Some barrier had gone up between them, and she wasn’t sure why. Because of her determination to take care of her grandmother, and he equated that with interference in what he planned? If so, he was right.

He paused at the door, glancing back at her. “Good night, Rachel. Don’t work too hard.”

“Thanks again for the help.”

He vanished behind the partially open door, and she heard his steady footsteps mounting the stairs.

If she let herself start thinking about Tyler’s situation, she’d never sleep tonight. “Come on, Barney.” She clicked her fingers at the dog. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

It was unusual to be unable to concentrate on work. Tyler had always prided himself on his ability to shut out everything in order to focus on the job at hand, but not this time.

He closed the computer file and shut down his laptop. No, not this time. Before he came to Churchville, he’d thought the task he’d set himself, although probably impossible, was at least fairly straightforward. Find out what he could about his grandfather’s death, deal with the property, go back to his normal life with his conscience intact.