inside, she hurried to a window at the front of her house and looked out toward the road. Linc Armstrong was nearly to his car; it was dark blue, not black and not a van.
Trembling, Ella leaned against the wall next to the window. Must they suspect everyone? Well, she’d told Andrew that her visitor didn’t like her very much. But he was a former FBI agent. Could he want to harass and hurt her just because she’d urged Hannah to give Seth a second chance? Who else out there hated her and why?
* * *
Ray-Lynn was even more thrilled with the impromptu picnic than with the fabulous view from this vantage point. Holding hands, she and Jack had taken a walk atop the hill, admiring the valley from all sides, though they’d steered clear of what Jack called potholes, several small, grassy sinkholes where someone could fall and might tumble all the way down. From a safe distance, they’d looked at the stacked white boxes that were the neatly kept beehives that Eben Lantz tended. Best of all, they’d cuddled and kissed.
Now Jack was looking through his binoculars while she poured the Merlot he’d brought. She was touched that he’d brought delicate, slim-stemmed goblets clear out here. For once, he’d arranged everything, including bringing an old transistor radio tuned to an easy-listening station.
“Doggone!” he said, sitting up straighter. “If that isn’t Linc Armstrong down there, getting in his car. He’s driving away from near the Lantzes’ driveway! Just earlier today I told him on the phone to give me a heads-up if he was in the area, but I assumed he was in Cleveland, when he must’ve been nearby.”
“He better be here on FBI business and not to look for Hannah.”
“He’s not FBI anymore, took early retirement. And I told him to steer clear of her. He’s doing some kind of private security work now, pays a lot more, he said.”
“I don’t care what he’s doing. After what Hannah told me about the graveyard murder investigation, all she’d need is former Agent Armstrong suggesting she try a professional singing career again or messing with her feelings. Jack—wine.”
He put the binoculars down and took the glass from her. He clinked it with hers. “I guess a lot of brides get the last-minute jitters, but is she shaky about the wedding?” he asked.
“No, rock solid in her feelings for Seth.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said, stroking her cheek with the curled backs of his fingers. A sharp sizzle swept down from there to her lower belly. Even though she couldn’t recall the early days of their courtship, she bet he’d always affected her this way.
She had to smile that the song on the radio was “The Second Time Around.” Momentarily content, they sipped their wine and settled back against one of the big oaks at the fringe of this lofty woodlot. She knew how hard it was for him to mentally leave his job, even when he was off duty. She understood that and could live with that—live with him.
“I can see someone—or something’s—been here recently,” Jack said, indicating the smashed grass on the brow of the hill just ahead of them. “Maybe deer lying down or lovers—other lovers.”
“Is that a hint?”
“Wouldn’t mind, but I’d rather roll out of a bed we shared than down this steep hill,” he said with a slow, lazy smile.
“One of my Amish waitresses at the restaurant told me this brow of the hill used to be called Lover’s Leap.”
“Don’t like the sound of that. What’s the deal?”
“She said that a couple of decades ago an Amish girl and an English guy who shared a forbidden love jumped off into the ravine near the pond below when they couldn’t marry.” Even though Ray-Lynn could not recall her plunge down a treed hill, she shuddered at the thought, and Jack put his arm around her.
She cuddled against his ribs. She could tell he had something to say but was holding back, so she decided on a careful approach. “Jack, all of this is great.
Trembling, Ella leaned against the wall next to the window. Must they suspect everyone? Well, she’d told Andrew that her visitor didn’t like her very much. But he was a former FBI agent. Could he want to harass and hurt her just because she’d urged Hannah to give Seth a second chance? Who else out there hated her and why?
* * *
Ray-Lynn was even more thrilled with the impromptu picnic than with the fabulous view from this vantage point. Holding hands, she and Jack had taken a walk atop the hill, admiring the valley from all sides, though they’d steered clear of what Jack called potholes, several small, grassy sinkholes where someone could fall and might tumble all the way down. From a safe distance, they’d looked at the stacked white boxes that were the neatly kept beehives that Eben Lantz tended. Best of all, they’d cuddled and kissed.
Now Jack was looking through his binoculars while she poured the Merlot he’d brought. She was touched that he’d brought delicate, slim-stemmed goblets clear out here. For once, he’d arranged everything, including bringing an old transistor radio tuned to an easy-listening station.
“Doggone!” he said, sitting up straighter. “If that isn’t Linc Armstrong down there, getting in his car. He’s driving away from near the Lantzes’ driveway! Just earlier today I told him on the phone to give me a heads-up if he was in the area, but I assumed he was in Cleveland, when he must’ve been nearby.”
“He better be here on FBI business and not to look for Hannah.”
“He’s not FBI anymore, took early retirement. And I told him to steer clear of her. He’s doing some kind of private security work now, pays a lot more, he said.”
“I don’t care what he’s doing. After what Hannah told me about the graveyard murder investigation, all she’d need is former Agent Armstrong suggesting she try a professional singing career again or messing with her feelings. Jack—wine.”
He put the binoculars down and took the glass from her. He clinked it with hers. “I guess a lot of brides get the last-minute jitters, but is she shaky about the wedding?” he asked.
“No, rock solid in her feelings for Seth.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said, stroking her cheek with the curled backs of his fingers. A sharp sizzle swept down from there to her lower belly. Even though she couldn’t recall the early days of their courtship, she bet he’d always affected her this way.
She had to smile that the song on the radio was “The Second Time Around.” Momentarily content, they sipped their wine and settled back against one of the big oaks at the fringe of this lofty woodlot. She knew how hard it was for him to mentally leave his job, even when he was off duty. She understood that and could live with that—live with him.
“I can see someone—or something’s—been here recently,” Jack said, indicating the smashed grass on the brow of the hill just ahead of them. “Maybe deer lying down or lovers—other lovers.”
“Is that a hint?”
“Wouldn’t mind, but I’d rather roll out of a bed we shared than down this steep hill,” he said with a slow, lazy smile.
“One of my Amish waitresses at the restaurant told me this brow of the hill used to be called Lover’s Leap.”
“Don’t like the sound of that. What’s the deal?”
“She said that a couple of decades ago an Amish girl and an English guy who shared a forbidden love jumped off into the ravine near the pond below when they couldn’t marry.” Even though Ray-Lynn could not recall her plunge down a treed hill, she shuddered at the thought, and Jack put his arm around her.
She cuddled against his ribs. She could tell he had something to say but was holding back, so she decided on a careful approach. “Jack, all of this is great.
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