Plain Admirer

by Patricia Davids

  Roman considered what he should do. Finally, he brought out his notepad and started a letter of his own. Before he realized it, the note was two pages long, and he felt better for having unburdened himself. The Happy Angler was right. A burden shared was a burden halved.

  He sealed the letter inside the jar and returned it to the knothole in the log as the evening light faded. He headed for home determined to do better at the job his uncle had given him and treat everyone there with fairness. Including Joann Yoder.

  When he reached the house, he saw his mother weeding in her garden. He opened the gate and joined her. Stooping, he pulled a dandelion that had sprouted among the peas.

  His mother paused and leaned on her hoe with a heavy sigh. “Danki, Roman. I appreciate the help. I declare, these weeds grow faster every year. I can hardly keep up with them.”

  “I’ll take over the weeding from you this summer. My town job leaves me with extra time on my hands.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet of you, but I enjoy being out here. I like the smell of growing things. I feel closer to God in my garden. It would be a blessing if you could do it once in a while.”

  “Whenever you want, Mamm.”

  “Where have you been?” She started hoeing again.

  “Over to Woolly Joe’s lake.”

  “Ach, that’s a pretty place.”

  “Mamm, do you know any Amish women who like to fish?”

  She laughed. “Goodness, I know plenty of women who like to fish. Your grandmother loved to sit on the riverbank with a pole in the water. Sometimes, I think she didn’t even put a worm on the hook, she just sat there and enjoyed the day. Why?”

  “No reason. I heard a local Amish woman was trying to buy her own house but lost her job. Do you know who it was?”

  His mother frowned as she concentrated. “Nee, I know of no one like that.”

  “Then I must have heard wrong.” He took the hoe from his mother and set to work.

  It seemed that the identity of his pen pal would remain a mystery. Maybe it was for the best this way. He hadn’t revealed his name, either.

  * * *

  Joann stepped off her brother’s front porch and scowled. She could see the end of the lane from the house. Roman wasn’t waiting for her this morning. Now she was going to be late.

  She’d grown accustomed to accepting a ride from him. She made a point of telling him when she would drive herself and she hadn’t mentioned anything like that yesterday.

  She didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to town by nine o’clock. She started running. Oh, she could just see Roman standing behind the counter and glancing pointedly at the clock when she finally got there. He’d be happy to tell her she was late. She could hardly point out that it was his fault. Odious man.

  She reached the road just as a horse and buggy came into view. She slowed to a walk. Roman pulled up beside her. “Sorry I’m late. I had trouble getting Meg hitched up. My brother normally does it for me, but he was sick in bed with a fever so I had to do it myself.”

  “That’s okay. I hope he feels better soon.” She was a little winded as she climbed in beside him.

  “Why were you running?”

  “I thought you’d decided not to come for me today. I didn’t want to be late.”

  His brow darkened. “I’m sorry you thought I would deliberately make you late for work. That was never my intention.”

  Joann hugged her book bag to her chest and remained silent as he set off down the road. That was exactly what she had been thinking. Who was the odious one now?

  She gathered her courage and said meekly, “I’m sorry for thinking poorly of you. Please forgive me.”

  “I reckon I’ve given you some cause.”

  “Still, I was in the wrong.”

  A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. A touch of humor slipped into his voice. “I never expected to hear you say that.”

  She sat up straighter. “I can admit when I’m wrong. It just doesn’t happen very often.”

  He chuckled, but then cleared his throat. “What’s on our agenda for today?”

  He hadn’t called her “teacher” in that annoying tone. Perhaps her goal of eventual friendship was possible, after all.

  “We’ll be putting together the magazine. They need to be finished before five o’clock tomorrow night so we can get them to the post office.”

  “How many copies do we print?”

  “Twelve hundred.”

  “Are you serious? We don’t even have twelve hundred families in Hope Springs.”

  “The Family Hour goes all across the county to Amish and Plain folk and even some Englisch subscribers.”

  “There’s still so much I don’t know.”

  “You’re doing okay. It takes time to learn it all. On Friday, we’ll get out the newspaper as usual.”

  “That sounds like a lot of work for the week.”

  “I thought you found our work easy.” Oh, why did she have to say that? Just when things were getting better. She could have cheerfully bitten her tongue.

  He glanced at her and then laughed. “I have seen it is not as easy as I once thought. When I’m wrong, I say so.”

  She managed a slight smile. “I don’t imagine that happens very often.”

  “More often than you might think, Joann Yoder. More often than you might think.” He grinned at her, and she blushed with delight.

  They rode the rest of the way into town in companionable silence. Joann’s high hopes for a pleasant day vanished when they turned the corner and saw an ambulance in front of the office with its red lights flashing. Leonard and his wife, Mabel, were standing outside. The front window had been broken.

  Joann jumped out of the buggy before it rolled to a stop. “Leonard, what happened?”

  “Someone threw a brick through our window. Otis was standing just inside. The brick hit him in the head. He was knocked unconscious.”

  Leonard’s wife Mabel said, “We called an ambulance right away.”

  Roman rushed past them and into the building. Joann tried to follow him, but Mabel held her back. “There’s broken glass and blood everywhere, dear. He’s being taken care of. They said we should stay out of the way until the sheriff arrives.”

  A crowd was gathering around them. Leonard said, “Did anyone see who did this? Did the brick come from a car or from a buggy?”

  Everyone shook his or her head. Mabel said, “It was early, businesses aren’t open, there weren’t many people on the street, but someone must have seen something.”

  Joann glanced over the crowd. No one stepped forward. The ambulance crew came out of the building with Otis on a stretcher. Roman came right behind them. As they put the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, Roman spoke to Leonard. “Will you drive me to my uncle’s house to get his wife and take her to the hospital?” The nearest hospital was more than thirty miles away. Too far for a buggy.

  “Of course.”

  Mabel said, “I’ll go and get her. Leonard, you should stay and talk to the sheriff. You were inside when it happened. Roman, would you like to come with me?”

  “Ja, I would. I should tell my mother what has happened.”

  Joann spoke up to reassure him. “I will take your buggy and let your mother know where Otis has been taken. Leonard, will you call Samuel Carter, the van driver, and see if he can take her to the hospital as well?”

  Leonard pulled a cell phone from his pocket. His hand shook as he tried to dial the number. “I can’t believe this. Otis is such a fine man. He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

  Mabel put her arms around him. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Leonard wiped at his eyes. “He gave me a job when everyone else said I was through. I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to him.”

  Roman laid a hand on Leonard’s shoulder. “We will keep the paper and the magazine running just as he would want.”

  Leonard looked at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “You’re
right. Just as he would want. I’m sorry now that I wasn’t nicer to you.”

  “We will start anew, you and me.”

  Gerald came jogging down the street as the ambulance was pulling away. “What’s going on?”

  Roman said, “My uncle was hurt when someone threw a brick through the window. They’re taking him to the hospital now. The sheriff will be here soon. When he is done, I want you to get some plywood to board up the window. Mabel, we should go before my aunt hears about this from someone else.”

  She kissed her husband on the cheek and hurried toward her car with Roman at her side. Joann and Gerald ventured as far as the doorway and looked in. There was broken glass everywhere. In the center of the mess was a pool of blood. A bloody towel had been discarded on the counter.

  “What is happening to our town?” Gerald asked sadly.

  Joann understood his sense of loss. First the school and now this. Was it a coincidence that it had happened during Brendan Smith’s trial or was something more sinister at work?

  Joann said, “I must go and tell Roman’s family what has happened. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Gerald shook his head. “Don’t hurry. I doubt we’ll get any work done today.”

  “We’ll get it all done. We have a magazine to get out and a business to run. That’s the best thing we can do for Otis.”

  “It’ll take twice as long without him.”

  “Then we must work twice as hard.”

  She made the trip out to Roman’s home as quickly as she could. Poor Meg was covered with flecks of sweat and foam by the time they reached the mill.

  Marie Rose and Menlo were grateful that she had brought the news and had thought to send for Samuel Carter. It wasn’t long before his gray van pulled into the yard. The retired Englischer earned extra money as a taxi driver for his Amish friends.

  Joann helped Marie Rose bundle together what they might need and saw them off. Andrew and Faron stood beside her as the dust from the vehicle settled. “I’ll hitch up another horse for you, Joann. Meg is getting a little old to be making so many trips to town,” Andrew said.

  He led the mare away and returned a short time later with a piebald pony hitched to a two-wheeled cart. “This is Cricket. He’ll get you there and back.”

  “Danki, Andrew. I’ll take good care of him. I must let my family and Bishop Zook know what has happened.”

  “I’ll see that the bishop knows,” Faron said.

  “Danki, that will save me many miles of travel,” Joann said.

  She stopped by her brother’s farm. Salome was pushing Louise on the swing in the front yard. They ran to her as she stopped the pony by the front gate.

  “Aenti Joann, did you get a new horse?” Louise asked as she petted the animal’s nose.

  “Nee, Cricket belongs to Andrew Weaver. He only loaned him to me. Where is your father?”

  “He and Mama are weeding the corn patch behind the barn.”

  “Danki.” She watched the two girls return to their play. What if it had been one of them injured by a thrown brick? Who might be next? She made up her mind. She would tell the sheriff what she knew. It was little enough, but someone had to try to put a stop to what was happening.

  Joan hurried around the barn and met her brother and sister-in-law as they were heading in with their hoes over their shoulders. She quickly explained what had happened. They were both as shocked as she had been.

  Hebron found his voice first. “You must stop working at that place.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. “Why?”

  “It is too worldly for you. To have dealings with the Englisch law twice in one week tells me it is best you stay here and help on the farm.”

  “I’m sorry, Hebron. I gave my word to Otis Miller that I would do a good job for him. I intend to honor my promise. I will be very late tonight. Don’t wait supper on me.”

  She turned on her heels and left them staring after her, though she knew she hadn’t heard the last of Hebron’s opinions on the subject.

  By the time Joann got back to town, the sheriff had gone and Gerald was nailing a large piece of wood over the broken window. He took a pair of nails from his mouth and said, “Leonard’s wife just called and said that Otis is in the emergency room at the hospital in Millersburg. He’s still unconscious, but they say his condition is good.”

  “Praise God for that news. What did the sheriff have to say?”

  “He took the brick, but he has little hope of finding who did this unless someone comes forward to say that they saw the crime committed.”

  “Did he think this was related to the school fire?”

  “If he does, he didn’t say so.” Gerald put the nails back in his mouth and finished hammering the one he had started into the woodwork.

  Joann went inside. No one had started cleaning up, so she got a broom and a dustpan and began sweeping up shards of glass. She had most of it cleaned up, when someone came in the front door. Expecting Roman, she turned around quickly to ask about Otis, but it was a young Englisch woman. Joann said, “I’m sorry. We’re closed for business today.”

  The woman shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and hunched her shoulders. Her eyes swept around the room and focused on the blood Joann hadn’t had a chance to wash off the floor.

  “I heard that the old man who runs this place was hurt. Is that true?” the woman asked.

  Joann dumped her dustpan full of glass into the trashcan. “Ja, they took him to the hospital in Millersburg.”

  The woman finally looked at her. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “We don’t know yet, but he is in God’s hands, so we do not fear for him. Do you know Otis Miller? I can give his family a message if you want.”

  She started backing toward the door. “No, that’s okay. I don’t know him.”

  She turned around and ran into Roman who was just coming in. Her face turned ashen white. She bolted past Roman and out the door. Joann stepped to the unbroken window and watched her. She got into a red car parked halfway down the block and took off. Joann grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the license plate number.

  Roman came to stand beside her. “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know, but does that look like the car that almost ran us off the road on the way to school?”

  “I didn’t get a good look at the car.”

  She turned to face him. “She wanted to know if the old man who worked here had been hurt. She seemed upset when I told her what I knew. How is Otis?”

  “Awake and worried sick that Family Hour and the paper won’t go out on time. The doctor said they needed to run more tests. They’re going to keep him for a few days.”

  “We can see that the magazine and paper get out on time. There’s nothing wrong with the presses. I’m willing to stay late, and I’m sure everyone else is.”

  “Danki, that will mean a lot to my uncle. What did you write down?” He pointed to the notepad in her hand.

  “I wrote down the license plate number of that woman’s car.”

  “What do you intend to do with it?”

  She gazed at his face trying to judge what his reaction would be if she admitted what she’d been thinking.

  “You plan to give it to the sheriff, don’t you?”

  “I think the woman knew more about today’s event than she let on,” Joann said.

  “Many in our church will tell you it’s none of our business. We must forgive the transgressors. My uncle has said this from his hospital bed.”

  “I do forgive them. I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

  He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

  Joann’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She reluctantly handed it over without looking at him.

  Roman stifled a twinge of pity and took the note from her. He didn’t want her getting in to trouble with her family or with the church.

  “What are you going to do with it?” Joann challenged Roman with a h
ard stare.

  “That is my business. Forget the number, forget you ever wrote it down.” He waited for the outburst he could see brewing behind her eyes.

  Instead, she lowered her gaze. “I need to get the rest of this cleaned up.”

  “Is the sheriff on our mailing list for the Family Hour magazine?”

  “Nee, but he gets our newspaper.”

  “Then I want the notice from the farmer whose hay was burned put in the magazine and not in the newspaper.”

  “I’ll have Gerald reset the type.”

  “Goot.”

  She started to turn away, but Roman caught her by the arm. “I want to thank you for letting my parents know about Otis. He was grateful to have his sister at his side.”

  “You don’t owe me thanks. I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

  Her tone had a sting to it. Clearly, she was implying that he wouldn’t. He didn’t say anything else. It didn’t matter what she thought of him. He would do what was best for all of them.

  Once the office was cleaned, they set to work finishing the magazine layout and printing the twenty pages both front and back that would be bound into the final project. Joann was everywhere, running proofs, carrying paper, refilling the ink when Leonard hollered that it was low and pausing to speak to the steady stream of people who stopped in to inquire about Otis and offer help. By late afternoon, the hardware store owner was supervising the installation of a new window.

  Roman tried his best to keep up with the flow. Otis normally ran the saddle binder, the machine that stapled the magazine pages together. Roman had already spent some time thinking about how he could operate it with one hand.

  Joann had shown him how to use the machine on his first day of work. She laid the open pages across the bar with her right hand and pressed the stapler with her foot. The machine moved the papers into the proper position and inserted a pair of wire staples. She then removed the pages with her left hand and laid the finished product in a container, making the task seem almost effortless. It wasn’t for him.

  He found a leftover length of plywood to make a slide and positioned it against the end of the machine. He had seen that he didn’t have to take the papers off the bar. He simply put the next set on the machine and when it moved the work into the proper position, it kicked the previous magazine off the bar, onto the slide and down into the box. He could bind the pages almost as fast as Otis and Joann had done. He was feeling quite pleased with his ingenuity.