Free Plain Murder by Emma Miller Page B

pancakes, eggs, toast, and bacon. Today, he’d planned a hike up Black Mountain onto state game lands, and he asked if it was possible to purchase a bag lunch. She assured him that it was no trouble, and no charge. It was the least she could do since he’d missed Ada’s wonderful afternoon tea.
    Rachel was just clearing away the breakfast dishes when her brother Levi walked into the kitchen from the back door. Rachel waved him into the dining room and told him to help himself to the breakfast goodies. Levi was always hungry, and although their mother was a good cook, her baked goods didn’t come close to Ada’s.
    â€œWatch out,” Levi warned between bites of almond scone. Rachel handed him a napkin, and he wiped the ring of milk off his mouth. “ Mam ’s set on sending the deacon around to try and convince you to give up this house and come home for good.” Eleven years old, he was the dark-haired one of the brood, but he had the same color eyes as Rachel. He was a good-natured scamp, and she thought he might be the brightest of all her brothers.
    â€œAren’t you supposed to be in school?” Rachel asked. “Does Mam know you’re here?” Her mother disapproved of the younger children visiting Stone Mill House.
    Rachel supposed her mother thought that she would try to lure them away from Amish ways with television cartoons and iPads. What Mam didn’t know, and would probably dislike even more, was that Levi came to read. He’d just finished Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and he was halfway through Treasure Island . One of the rooms upstairs had been a library, and she’d taken immense pleasure in filling the floor-to-ceiling shelves with secondhand volumes of classics that George O’Day acquired for her.
    â€œNo school this morning.” Levi grinned. “Teacher’s not feeling good from having her teeth pulled. I have to be there at eleven, and we won’t get recess in the afternoon.”
    â€œAnd Mam didn’t have chores for you?”
    He shrugged. “She thought there was school. She went to Aunt Hannah’s.” He stuffed a strip of now-cold bacon into his mouth. “Did Uncle Aaron really kill Willy O’Day?”
    â€œNo, he didn’t. How could you ask such a thing?”
    â€œJesse said they took his dat away and locked him in a prison, just like the old martyrs. He said Uncle Aaron couldn’t come home until he was a hundred years old.”
    â€œJesse is wrong, too. I don’t know what happened to Willy, but Uncle Aaron would never hurt anyone.”
    â€œOh, and Jesse said to tell you that Mary Aaron can’t come today. Her mother needs her. And . . . and . . .” He stuffed another slice of bacon in his mouth. “She’s sorry.” He stood up. “Can I go upstairs and read?”
    She considered, knowing that she didn’t have the heart to forbid him access to the books that she’d loved when she was his age—children’s favorites that she would never have known existed if it hadn’t been for kindly Mrs. Schenfeld. “For a little while, but listen for the clock on the landing. When it chimes ten thirty, you scoot.” She reached out and brushed down his cowlick. “How did you get here? Did you come on your scooter-bike?”
    Levi headed for the stairs. “Zebby Beiler’s pony. I cut through the woods. I won’t be late.”
    Once Levi was gone, Rachel stood for a moment gathering her thoughts and making a plan for the morning. Since neither Minnie nor Mary Aaron was coming today, she’d have to make up the guest rooms and do the laundry herself. She’d start with Father Young’s room so that if he returned early and wanted an afternoon nap, she wouldn’t have to disturb him.
    She went to the kitchen to gather the cleaning supplies. Changing linen, vacuuming, and dusting three guest rooms were only a start to the