Authors: Laura Hilton
Tags: #Christian, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Historical, #Fiction, #General Fiction
“Look, I’m sorry for the way I treated you about the kid. I was wrong. And you aren’t like any of the others. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Please, Becky? I’ll try to do better this time.” His grip tightened around her right arm so hard that she feared it would leave marks. “Let’s get out of here.” He propelled her toward his car.
As if that feeble apology would make up for everything! Her ruined reputation, a boppli out of wedlock, her foolish mistakes…. It didn’t even begin to scratch the surface.
Besides which, she didn’t even like him anymore.
“Let me go.” Becky desperately wanted someone to help her. She glanced back at Jacob, then toward the buggy, where Annie and Matthew seemed frozen.
She looked at Jacob. Why wouldn’t he help her?
“I can’t leave Emma,” she pleaded.
“Let Annie babysit. Come on.”
Kent dragged her toward the car as she tried to dig her feet into the ground to halt their progress. Difficult to do with tennis shoes on hard, packed dirt. “Nein, Kent. Nein. You’re drunk. Don’t do this!” Couldn’t anyone hear the fear in her voice? Her desperate pleas for help?
How could she live with herself if he—
“The maidal said nein.” Jacob’s deep voice interrupted her panicked thoughts.
Becky lost her balance and fell when Kent released her and whipped around. She’d have a bruised hip, for sure.
Though her injuries were nothing compared to Jacob’s.
“Gonna fight now, Chakob Miller?” Kent’s mouth curled in contempt. He swung at Jacob.
This time, Jacob ducked to avoid him, then returned the punch.
His fist collided with Kent’s diaphragm.
Kent spewed the contents of his stomach all over the ground. He doubled over, clutching his midsection, as tears streamed down his cheeks. Then, he fell to his knees in the road, gasping for breath like one of the fish Matthew had caught earlier.
Red and blue lights flashed behind them.
***
Jacob didn’t know whether to help Becky to her feet or to put his hands over his head. He started to turn when a stern voice came over the loudspeaker. “Everybody freeze!” That settled it. He put his hands up over his head.
His stomach threatened to expel its contents, like Kent’s had done. Why had he succumbed to temptation and punched Kent? He should have stuck it out and clung to his commitment to nonviolence. But he hadn’t. And now, the police were here. He’d failed. He’d failed Becky, he’d failed himself, and he’d failed God.
Lord, forgive me.
A police officer approached and shone his flashlight directly into Jacob’s eyes. “Who are you?”
“Jacob Miller.”
The flashlight’s beam swung toward the buggy, illuminating Annie and Matt before turning back and landing on Becky, sitting in the dirt, then Kent, who was also still on the ground, gasping for air.
Jacob wished he dared go help Becky up. She shouldn’t be sitting there in the dirt. He avoided her gaze. Too bad it had come to this.
“Ah, Kent Johnson. We had a complaint about you once already tonight. Seems you’re not done getting into trouble. The person who reported you said you were drunk and disturbing the peace.” The light flashed back to Jacob. “You’re the new Amish man James mentioned. Not high, are you?”
“Nein.”
“Can you walk a straight line?” With the toe of his boot, the police officer scuffed a mark in the dirt.
“Jah.” Jacob lowered his arms and stepped on the line.
“Who are your friends?” the officer asked as Jacob followed the line.
“Becky Troyer, Matthew Yoder, and Annie. Sorry, I don’t know her last name.”
The officer’s partner got into Kent’s car, which was still running, and moved it to the side of the road as Jacob finished walking the scratched trail.
The one holding the flashlight on Jacob nodded. “So, you haven’t been drinking?” The police officer moved closer, as if to do a sniff test.
“Only water and tea. And I just had some of that fancy coffee.” He wasn’t sure how fresh his breath smelled.
The officer’s eyebrows rose. “Fancy coffee?”
“Cappuccino,” Becky said. “From McDonald’s. May I get up?”
The officer walked over to the buggy and peered inside, then came back looked down at Becky, still sitting in the dirt and rubbing her hip. “Who are you?”
“Becky Troyer.”
“Daniel’s daughter?”
“Jah.”
The officer nodded. “You can get up. Tell your dad that Troy said hi. You are all free to go.” He turned to Kent. “And as for you, Mr. Johnson, I think I’ll take you for a ride to the station. My partner will drive your vehicle back. I know your dad would prefer that over having it towed.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jacob said, but his heart still pounded like crazy. He turned and walked over to Becky, reached down, and grasped her hand to help her up.
She started to move into his arms, but Jacob held up a hand, stopping her.
***
Jacob had frowned all the way home, and he hadn’t said a word—not when he’d dropped off Matthew, then Annie, and certainly not while he’d been alone with her and Emma afterward. He’d maintained the silence all the way up to the house.
Becky’s thoughts had been in turmoil for the duration of the trip. Was Jacob angry with her? Upset that she’d gotten out of the buggy to help him? Maybe that had damaged his pride. But it had looked like he wasn’t about to do anything other than let Kent beat him up, and so she’d needed to jump in!
Ach, she shouldn’t have worried that Jacob wouldn’t protect her. He had when it had mattered most. But what must he think of her now?
He was probably disgusted that she’d ever gone so far into the world to want to date a guy just because he drove a fancy red car. That was pretty shallow.
Jacob released the reins and vaulted down, then came around to the other side of the buggy. He reached up to take Emma and helped Becky down, handing Emma back to her when she was ready. Then, he went around to the back to get the picnic basket, quilts, and diaper bag.
And, still quiet, he followed her into the kitchen.
Mamm and Daed looked up from the table, where they were sitting. Mamm’s eyes widened as she took in Becky and then Jacob, and she sprang to her feet. “What happened to you? Are you alright? Becky, your dress is all torn and dirty. And Jacob…?”
“We ran into Kent,” Becky started to explain, “and—”
“I’m sorry, Daniel. I failed,” Jacob interrupted her, dropping into a chair. “I’m so very sorry.”
Becky laid Emma down in her cradle and went to get an ice pack. Jacob’s eye was almost swollen shut and had turned an ugly shade of purple.
“I’m going to get a warm washcloth,” Mamm said. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
Tears crept down Jacob’s face as he spilled out the story. “I’m thinking maybe you should make arrangements to send me back. I shamed you and your family.”
Becky froze, standing there beside the table, the ice pack in her hand. “Nein, Jacob. Don’t say that.” Maybe that was why he’d been so quiet on the way home. She’d been proud of him, and he’d been beating himself up.
Daed nodded slowly. “Jah. Jah, you shamed us.” But then, a grin lifted his mouth. “I’m thinking you did a gut job protecting my Becky, and maybe we’ll just keep you around a bit longer.” He eyed Jacob sternly. “So long as you behave yourself.”
Becky let out the air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. She looked up as Mamm hurried back into the room and went to Jacob. Becky stopped her. “I’ll do it, Mamm.”
Jacob looked at Becky with furrowed brow and pursed lips, as if she was the last person he wanted touching him. But then, he shut his eyes. Acceptance, maybe, though he must not want to even see her. Or, maybe his eyes just hurt. He didn’t make any effort to stop her as she gently wiped the blood off of his strong jaw and removed the dirt from the rest of his face. An occasional tear still made a track down his cheek, and Becky wished she had the nerve to kiss each one away. But Mamm and Daed were right there in the room.
And even if they weren’t, his swollen, split lip looked much too sore to kiss.
Some blood had run down his neck, so Becky moved the washcloth to wipe that up, but Jacob grabbed her hand, stalling her. His eyes flew open.
“I can handle it, ain’t so? I’ll just go take a shower—if you don’t think I’ll disturb them.” He motioned toward the dawdi-haus, where Grossdaedi and Grossmammi slept.
Daniel waved his hand in dismissal. “Go on. Gut nacht, Jacob.”
He nodded, stood, and went outside. A moment later, Becky saw the horse and buggy headed away from the house toward the road.
She hoped that this didn’t mean he was driving out of her life.
Jacob drew in a deep breath, then pushed open the door to the police station. He walked up to the desk in the middle of the room. It looked different from the police station back home, but this was a small town and probably didn’t see much crime.
The dispatcher fixed his gaze on Jacob’s eye, which by now was badly bruised. Jacob had seen his reflection in the glass door on his way in.
“How can I help you?”
Conscious of how awful he must look, Jacob swallowed, wishing he’d thought twice before making this trip. Maybe he should have showered first. “Uh, is Kent Johnson still here?”
The man behind the desk slowly stood. “Yes. He’s in a holding cell. Why?”
“May I talk to him?”
“Who are you?”
“Jacob Miller. I need to apologize.”
The dispatcher narrowed his eyes. “You’re the one who fought with him? I wouldn’t worry about it. That boy has been asking for it for a while. He finally got what he needed. About time someone stood up to him. Just because his daddy is on the city council….”
City council? Was his daed some kind of important person? “Please?” Jacob rubbed his thumb against his forefinger.
“Alright. If you insist. I’ll have to pat you down to make sure you aren’t carrying.”
“Jah.” How much humiliation would he need to bear? It didn’t matter. He deserved every bit of it. He knew better. All his life, he’d had it drilled into his head that violence was not the answer. And yet….
“Put your hands here.” The man indicated a file cabinet.
Jacob nodded and complied, then tried not to flinch as the officer frisked him.
“Come on.” The man walked away from the desk and turned a corner. He stopped at the first of two small cells. It had a concrete floor and a stainless-steel toilet with no seat on one side, two built-in cots on the other. Kent sat hunched over on the bottom bed. He still looked a bit sick.
“You have company, Johnson,” the officer said, then looked at Jacob. “I’ll leave you out here, if you don’t mind.”
Jacob swallowed. “Let me in.”
“Leave him out.”
The dispatcher grunted. “I think you’ve kind of given up any say here, Johnson. Your dad said to throw the book at you. That would be disturbing the peace, driving under the influence, assault—”
“I don’t want to press charges,” Jacob interrupted him.
“I do.” Kent glared at him.
The officer sighed and banged the door with his fist. “Doesn’t change anything. I’m not letting you in. You got fifteen minutes.”
Jacob stepped forward and grasped the bars. His fingers tightened around them until his knuckles turned white.
He stood there for a long time in indecision. He could hear the officer talking in the other room—on the phone, probably, since no one else had been there when he’d arrived.
Kent began to fidget. “Go ahead. Say what you came to say, then get out of here.” He didn’t look up.
“I…I’m sorry. Violence, it isn’t our way. I was wrong to react the way I did. I had no excuse for it, except that I didn’t want you to take Bex—I mean Becky. Please forgive me.” Peace washed over him. He relaxed his grip.
Kent sniffed, his upper lip curling in contempt. “I expected you to fight. I wanted you to fight. But I guess even more than that, I wanted to beat you. I wanted Becky to go with me.” He raked his fingers through his hair as a vulnerable look crossed his face. “I’m jealous of you, you know. You have her. I don’t.” It must be the alcohol talking. Surely, Kent wouldn’t admit to this if he were sober.
“But you did.” And that still goaded Jacob.
“I thought she was like all the other girls, that once we got started…I thought she was on the pill. How was I supposed to know she was a virgin? None of the other girls ever complained. And she got pregnant the only time I…uh….” Kent’s face flushed.
Jacob frowned, wondering if she’d been forced. It sounded like it.
“She took it so hard,” Kent added.
It was good that the officer had kept Jacob out here instead of allowing him inside the cell. He chewed his lip to keep from saying anything he might regret later. The metal bars bit into his fingers when his grip tightened again.
“Said she was saving herself for marriage,” Kent continued. “I told her it wasn’t a big deal.” He shrugged, but then his expression changed. Hardened. “I suppose you think I owe you an apology. You’re probably the one she saved herself for. I always knew she’d marry one of her kind. But I’d hoped to convince her to become one of us. To move in with me. Get away from her too-strict father.”
“Yet you said the boppli wasn’t yours…and ruined her reputation among the people.” This Englischer’s thinking sure was mixed up. Jacob’s mind struggled to process everything that Kent had dumped in this information overload.
“I wasn’t ready to be a dad. I was only nineteen—way too young to settle down. Besides, I offered to pay for an abortion. Even offered to take her into Springfield for it. She wouldn’t have been ruined if she’d agreed. She’s the one who refused. She made her choices.” His lips curled.
Jacob flexed his jaw.
“Time’s up.” The officer stepped around the corner, jingling some keys as he approached.
It was probably time to leave, anyway. Jacob’s temper had already risen to the boiling point. He forced himself to calm down. To turn and walk out. He’d said what he had come to say.
The officer led the way back into the main room, where the police officer who’d drawn the line in the dirt stood waiting. The one who’d said his name was Troy.