Rebecca's Return (21 page)

“I see,” Rebecca said, wishing again last night had never happened.

Esther looked intently at Rebecca and then to Mattie, “They didn’t break up—did they?”

Mattie shook her head. “Just a little—well, disagreement—I think they had. Nothing serious.”

“We all have those.” Esther smiled grimly. “All of us being human.”

Rebecca was silent, listening, feeling detached.

“Was he driving on the wrong side of the road?” Mattie asked, and Rebecca figured she knew why. Her mother wanted to know if maybe John had been distracted by their argument.

“Not that I know,” Esther said, her eyes meeting Mattie’s. “The officer would have said so, I’m sure. Isaac talked to him—at least that’s what Aden said—there was no blame put on John.”

“Do they expect him to recover?” Rebecca asked, now that the question of blame was answered.

“I think so,” Esther told her. “Doctors are doing a CT scan this morning.”

Rebecca nodded, still feeling a little cool flush, but calm otherwise.

“Thanks for coming over.” Mattie was concluding the conversation. “The family’s still having breakfast.”

“A Saturday morning.” Esther smiled for the first time.

“Fixed a little something special for Rebecca’s first morning home.”

“Yah,” Esther said, “I’ll be getting back now.”

Esther climbed into the buggy, as they stepped back toward the house and gave her room to turn in the driveway.

“Now isn’t that a shock to one’s system.” Mattie stated to no one in particular. “Looks like you two are having some big troubles already.”

Rebecca still felt numb, like crying but not able to.

“That wasn’t really serious last night was it?” Mattie asked, now seeming uncertain about the answers she had given.

Not feeling like giving all the details, Rebecca told her, “John was upset, but he seemed okay. I told him we would discuss it fully Sunday night. Oh, I wish we had just talked about it right there. Now he’s in the hospital.”

“Did he think you were quitting him?”

“Not that I know of. I certainly wasn’t.”

“Did you give him that impression?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I didn’t think it or show it,” Rebecca stated simply, meeting her mother’s eyes.

“The officer said it wasn’t John’s fault,” Mattie replied, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else. “We’d better get inside and let the others know.”

Walking back in, Mattie went first, took her seat at the kitchen table again, and then said, “Esther brought the news that John was hurt last night in a buggy accident. He’s in the hospital.” She then turned back to the care of her family. “This gravy’s good and cold now, isn’t it?”

“How bad is he hurt?” Lester asked.

“Unconscious, but they have good hopes for him.”

“You’ll be taking Rebecca down?” Lester asked next, the last of his breakfast already done and scraped off his plate.

“As soon as I can,” Mattie told him. “You think the children will be okay while I’m gone?”

“Should be for a Saturday,” Lester said, looking at them. “They should learn to take care of themselves, if they haven’t already. Matthew can work with me on cutting wood.”

“Katie and Viola can do the dishes…Martha and Ada, dry them,” Mattie said, without much further explanation. “We can get going right away. Rebecca really should get down to see John.”

“I’ll be in the living room then,” Lester told them. “When you two are done eating, we can have morning prayer.”

As her father left, Rebecca found that none of her food would go down anymore.

“It’s okay,” her mother told her, noticing, as she finished her own breakfast. “Let’s go in for prayers.”

They rose to follow her, Rebecca scraping her chair on the floor. Still none of the other children were saying anything, a hush seeming to have fallen over them in the face of this unknown.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-SIX

I
saac walked out of the house soon after the officer left with her husband. He thought of harnessing his horse and using it for the trip to town, disregarding Aden’s offer of a fresh horse. After considering how exhausted his horse probably was from last night, he decided to take up Aden’s offer. His own horse would likely complete the trip to West Union, doing what it was told, but there was no sense in making it suffer.

Tomorrow was Sunday, the Lord’s day, when he would need not only a fresh horse, but a fresh conscience, clear from offense to man or beast. Even if Aden hadn’t offered, Isaac might have gone and asked, considering the rest his horse sorely needed.

Stopping at the barn, Isaac dropped a quarter bucket of oats into the horse’s feed box and checked its hay too. The sound of the sliding oats got its attention. With a whiny, it came swiftly into the barn, halted just inside the door, and then made its way to the grain, nuzzling its nose deep into the fluffy oats.

“Hungry, eh?” Isaac asked it with a gentle chuckle. Pausing to watch the horse’s teeth working so diligently, he whispered softly, “Enjoy your oats then. I guess you’re off for the day.”

Walking briskly up Wheat Ridge toward the Miller’s complex, Isaac’s thoughts ran back over the night’s events. How quickly things could change. Only last night John had left the house, full of life and vigor, anxious about Rebecca. Now John was lying in a hospital bed and facing an unknown future.

It was all in the hands of God, Isaac knew. God would know what was best, yet he bowed his head from the weight of what he felt was ahead of them. Something about the way John appeared, his head swollen on the one side, made him uneasy. The doctor had seemed to be optimistic enough, but they were trained to be optimistic, he figured.

Wishing now that he had asked the officer’s husband how fast he had been driving, Isaac regretted the missed opportunity. Perhaps it would have given him a better understanding of what lay ahead. Then remembering the scene from earlier in the morning, he was glad he had not remembered to ask.

Such a question would have caused Andy unnecessary grief. What good would it have done anyway? It would not help John now, and trying to make himself feel better at the other’s expense didn’t really help either.

He walked past three cars already parked in front of Miller’s Furniture, entered through the front door, and found Sharon at the front desk. “Using the phone,” he told her, his steps not slowing much.

She nodded, her attention focused on one of the customers in the store. “Our main floor person had an accident last night,” she was saying.

He shut the outside door and any sounds of the continuing conversation inside. Reaching for the phone, he dialed the hospital’s number that was listed in the phone book Aden kept on the shelf. It rang three times before someone answered, “Adams County Medical.”

He gave his name and John’s name, asking to be transferred to room 201. He hoped Miriam was there to answer the phone.

“Just a moment,” the voice said, followed by two short beeps.

Miriam answered with a weary, “Hello.”

“It’s Isaac,” he said, not certain if she would recognize his voice over the phone. “How’s John?”

“He’s doing about the same,” Miriam answered in the same tired tone.

“You get any rest?” he asked, concerned.

“Waiting room chairs aren’t very comfortable to sleep in,” she said dryly.

“Doctor stopped by yet?”

“Yes. The scan’s at ten. Nothing new till then…I guess.”

“Aden’s letting me use their horse. I’ll be starting out soon.”

“Could you find anything for breakfast?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Cold cereal,” he said scornfully.

She chuckled. “It’ll keep you alive.”

“Not by much.”

She chuckled again. “Keeps you young.”

“Really,” he said, forgetting for a moment that he was on a phone, calling a hospital. Her face came into focus. He was a bit surprised at how much he missed her. After all, it had been only last night they were together.

“A little need—it’s good for a man. Keeps his senses and tastes sharp,” she said, with tenderness in her voice.

“I’ll be on my way,” he said, returning to the subject at hand. “Should get there before they do the scan.”

“I’m worried, Isaac,” Miriam said.

“It’s in the hands of God.”

“He’s our baby,” she said, the words catching in her throat.

“
Gottes villa
is what’s best,” he told her, trying to comfort himself too.

“Yes…” she said, the weariness back in her voice, “He’s not known for sparing though—even those He loves.”

“He gave us His only Son,” Isaac said, thinking about that act, not finding the words too comforting, considering the implications. “We must trust Him,” he added resolutely.

“Yes,” she said, meaning it.

“I’ll be down soon,” he said softly. Hearing her hang up, he did so himself.

“Any news?” Aden asked, as Isaac stepped back inside.

“No…still the same. They’re doing the scan at ten.”

“You want the horse?” Aden asked Isaac, getting up from his chair.

Isaac nodded, motioning for Aden to remain seated. “I can get it myself.”

Aden accepted and settled back down. “Harness’s just inside the barn door, left-hand side. Take the brown gelding. It ought to make the trip in good time. Shoes are in good shape.”

“Thanks.” Isaac took his leave, knowing they would pass on the news of John’s condition to those of the family who ought to know.

Walking back up the road and across to Aden’s place, he pulled the single buggy out of the barn, finding the harness and horse easily. He harnessed the horse and was on the road quickly.

Pulling back on the reins at the stop sign on the state road, Isaac stopped short, giving himself a few extra feet just in case the strange horse should act up. The horse stood there calmly, while Isaac waited for two cars to pass, starting instantly again when Isaac let out the reins.

They made good time going south till Isaac felt himself relaxing, becoming comfortable with driving the brown gelding. Aden would have told him of any dangerous habits the horse might have, but he still needed to get to know the animal personally before he totally trusted it. A simple mistake on a main highway could have disastrous results.

He thought of Rebecca, John’s girl. She would, no doubt, be showing up, perhaps even before he got there.
How is she taking this?
Her reaction might be a good indication as to the quality of girl she was.

They wanted the best for John, both he and Miriam did. They wanted a girl who would be a credit to John, as well as a solid mate. She must be a good Christian girl, one with no leanings toward leaving the faith. Life among the Amish was hard enough, without being married to someone who was always complaining about the preachers or the hardship of the Amish life. A good wife would not be thinking the requirements of the
Ordnungs Brief
too high
.

This he knew from being a minister, remembering past family problems. A woman who always complained could wear a man down and send many a good man to the liberal churches, where he might otherwise not have gone.

Isaac reminded himself, the man could do the same thing for his wife, but in John’s case there had never been any signs pointing in such a direction. The boy had always given every indication, both by his willingness and desire, of staying in the Amish faith. That being true, it would be a disaster for John to marry a girl who would push him away from his present leanings.

Running his thoughts over what he knew of the Keim family, he remembered what he had told Miriam only the evening before. It was strange how little he knew about the family. With the family’s move, there was a positive church letter from Milroy forwarded to Bishop Martin from Bishop Mose, giving a good word but nothing else.

Shouldn’t there be something else? No news was good news. But Isaac wasn’t sure in this case. A lot lay at stake with the marriage of John because once married, like all Amish, John was married for life. Never, outside of death, would he be able to do anything about another choice.

Isaac tightened up the reins on the brown gelding as a semi roared past, going the other way. The boy sure seemed smitten with the girl, which could well be a problem. It could be blinding John’s eyes to her faults. Yet this was a sticky problem, which even concerned parents might best stay away from.

With a searing suddenness, Isaac remembered John’s present state, lying in the hospital. Why in the world was he thinking about the girl? He ought to be thinking about John and whether he was worthy of the girl. What if John was a cripple now, brought down with such a handicap?

Shame flooded Isaac at the thought, shame for what John’s state might mean to them and him, and shame that he had been judging Rebecca. He really had no right to do so, he told himself.

Perhaps this was why
Da Hah
had allowed this accident to happen, to bring them back from the deadly sin of pride. Miriam and he thought so much of John, their only son. Had their love been blinding them from seeing their own sin?