Page 11 of Unforgiven

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.”

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