Page 73 of Unforgotten

Bethanne’s heart went out to her. “How are you feeling? Are you hurting worse?” Candace had tried to fight Scott when he’d clawed at the soft skin above her collarbone. His jagged fingernails had broken the skin, and his harsh grip had made Candace cry out. Tears had run down her face as Bethanne had attempted to break free.

“It’s not too bad.” Scooting closer to her side, Candace whispered, “I’m so sorry, Bethanne. I never, ever would’ve wanted anything to happen to you again. This is all my fault.”

“Being taken from my yard, dragged through the woods, and tossed in here is not your fault.”

She sniffed. “Well, it’s sure not yours.”

“It’s neither of our faults. It’s his.” When her cousin sniffed again, Bethanne knew the tears were falling again. “You mustn’t cry. There’s no way to wipe your tears.”

“Sure there is.” A few seconds later, she added, “I’ll just wipe my eyes and nose on your clothes.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime.”

“We’ll get through this, Candace. I know it.”

“I hope so.”

Snuggling as best she could next to Candace, Bethanne closed her eyes. If she breathed deep, she could catch a whiff of her cousin’s perfume. Or maybe it was her lotion or shampoo? “What makes you always smell so good?”

“What?”

“You’ve always got a good scent surrounding you. It’s ... I don’t know. Like flowers and vanilla and maybe honey?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking about my perfume right now.”

“It seems like the perfect time, especially since you smell good.”

“I guess I should be glad I don’t stink.”

“Jah. We should both be glad of that,” Bethanne teased. “Anyway, I’d rather think about your perfume than imagine how gross this floor is. So, what is it?”

“I went to some party with my mother years ago where they make up a scent just for you.”

“Fancy.”

She chuckled. “I thought it was silly and a waste of time. But maybe not, because I’ve always liked the perfume I was given. It’s got jasmine and gardenias and is supposed to have vanilla undertones.”

“I’m not even sure what that means.”

Sounding a tad bit calmer, Candace said, “I don’t know if I do either. I guess the perfume maker added a touch of vanilla. I think the rest of what you smell is my lotion.” She exhaled. “You’re so funny, Bethanne. I can’t believe you brought it up.”

“I’ve always wondered what it was. I was just too embarrassed to ask.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?”

“Come on. You’re Candace and I’m me.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at. And for the record, you don’t smell either. You just smell like Bethanne.”

“You know what I mean. Jah, I’m Amish and you’re not, but there’s more that’s different. You’ve always been so pretty. But more importantly, you’ve always had goals and been confident. I’ve always wished I was more like you.”

“You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Oh, please. I could hardly leave my room for years.”

“Bethanne, stop. What I’m trying to say is that you’re pretty too. But the more important thing is your character. You’re sweet. You always take time to think of others. I’m too selfish by half. I’ve often wished I had more of your humility.”

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