Hometown Healing
Page 20
He raised the hood and propped it open, disappearing from Jesse’s view. A few seconds later, he looked around at Jesse. “Loose battery cable. Try it now.”
Jesse scooted across the bench seat until he was behind the wheel. He turned the key and the truck roared to life. Dale dropped the hood, pushed his toolbox behind the seat again and got in as Jesse moved back to his side of the seat. “Are we heading back, or do you want to get a motel room tonight and start fresh in the morning?”
A glance at Dale’s face told Jesse his coworker was worn-out. “We’ll get a room.”
As eager as Jesse was to get back, making the long drive this late wasn’t practical. Tomorrow afternoon would be soon enough to have the bank issue him a cashier’s check as earnest money for the auction the following day. He needed the land to expand his farm. It could be years before another piece of farm ground so close to his own came up for sale.
Dale grinned. “Good. Let’s get something to eat too.”
“Sure.” Jesse was getting hungry. The sandwich he’d packed for his lunch was long gone.
“I know this great little burger place just off the highway downtown. Our crew used to eat there every chance we got.”
“Crew?” As soon as he asked the question, Jesse knew it was a mistake.
“I worked two summers for a logging company up the way. Didn’t I ever tell you that? The pay was good, but the hours were long and the work was dangerous. The first week I was on the job, a tree fell within inches of my head. Inches. That was just the start of it.”
Jesse was sure he was about to hear everything that had happened to Dale during those two years. He settled himself in resignation. Hopefully dinner would put a halt to Dale’s storytelling.
As they drove back into town, Jesse searched for the Amish woman, hoping to see her face and prove it wasn’t Gemma. The streets and sidewalks were almost empty. He didn’t spy anyone in Amish clothing. Dale pulled the pickup and empty trailer into a parking lot off the main street. When he opened the door, Jesse got a whiff of mouthwatering fried onions and burgers. If the fare was anything like the aroma, they were in for some good food. His stomach growled in anticipation.
He followed Dale inside the small diner, ducking slightly to keep from knocking his black hat off against the doorjamb. Several people were seated at tables and at a counter. They all turned to look. He should have been used to the stares, but he never got over the feeling that he was an oddity. An Amish giant. At six foot four, he towered over Dale, who was five foot eight at the most. Jesse’s hat added another two inches to his height, and his bulky black coat made him look even bigger.
He happily took a seat in a booth where his size was less noticeable. His friend Michael Shetler once told him he needed to hang out with bigger friends. Good advice, but the problem was there wasn’t anyone his size in their Amish community.
A waitress came over and pulled a pencil from her dark curly hair. “What can I get you?”
“Two of your lumberjack burgers, two orders of fries and I’ll have a soda. What do you want to drink, Jesse?”
“Water.”
Dale winked at the waitress and grinned. “The Amish like to keep things simple.”
She ignored Dale and focused on Jesse. “Are you with the Amish lady waiting at the bus station? Oscar, the bus station attendant came over a little while ago and bought a burger for her. He said she had missed her bus and didn’t have enough money for a motel. She was hoping to find another Amish family in the area. He asked me if I knew any and I don’t.”
“We aren’t from around here,” Dale said.
Jesse hesitated a few seconds, then stood up. “Which way is the bus depot?”
She pointed her pencil up the street. “It’s not really a depot. The bus line just has a desk in the hardware store.”
He touched his hat. “Thank you. Go ahead and eat, Dale.” He couldn’t leave without offering aid to another member of his faith. He would pay for her motel room and make sure she had money to use for food if she needed help.
He walked out the door and up the sidewalk to the hardware store. A bell tingled as he walked in. A quick glance around showed him a woman in Amish clothing sitting on a bench near the other end of the store. She sat huddled in her seat with her head down and her hands gripping her handbag as if someone might tear it from her grasp.
He stopped a few feet away, searching for something to say, to ask if she was okay, if he could help and he finally settled for a simple “good evening” in the native language of the Amish, Pennsylvania Deitsh. “Guder nacth, frau.”
The woman looked up. He stared at her familiar face in astonishment. “Gemma?”
Her eyes widened. “Jesse?”
The color left her cheeks. She pressed a hand to her lips and burst into tears, leaving him with no idea what to do.
Copyright © 2019 by Patricia MacDonald
ISBN-13: 9781488043093
Hometown Healing
Copyright © 2019 by Jennifer Slattery
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