The professor squeezed her hand and smiled. “Are you sure?”
“Please,” she begged. “You need to warn them so they don’t worry.”
Rebecca watched as the professor ran through the cornstalks. Desperate to get away from the marijuana crops, Rebecca struggled to her feet. The world tilted and her empty stomach heaved.
With one hand to her forehead and the other to her belly, she moved one foot in front of the other through the tall cornstalks.
Please help me, Lord.
The sound of the sirens grew closer, adding to the clanging in her head. She paused and leaned over, bracing her hands on her knees. It didn’t help.
Dizzy, she straightened and walked shakily forward. Finally, she stepped onto the hard-packed surface of her driveway. The lights on the ambulance caught her eye before her gaze landed on the professor coming out of the house.
Tiny stars danced in her line of vision before darkness consumed her and she collapsed.
*
With a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, Jake lingered in the doorway of Rebecca’s hospital room while she slept. Her shiny brown hair, usually wound in a bun and hidden under a bonnet, was splayed on the white pillow. A white bandage covered a portion of her forehead, but her cheeks had regained some of their color and her expression was peaceful.
Something inside him shifted.
He stepped into the room, and she must have sensed him because her eyes fluttered open. A small smile curved her pink lips.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He took a step closer, letting his fingers brush against the cotton blanket on the bed. “How are you?” he asked, his voice low. Something about hospitals made him feel melancholy. Perhaps it had to do with watching his father waste away from liver failure in one.
“I’ve been better.”
Yellow-greenish bruising blossomed under each eye. Anger burned inside him. She could have been killed.
Suddenly aware of the flowers he was holding, he offered them to her. “For you.”
Rebecca took the bouquet and brushed it under her nose. A faint smile graced her lips. “They’re beautiful.”
“Let me find something to put them in.” He held up his finger, ran out to the nurses’ station and came back with a pitcher. He filled it with water from the bathroom, then plunked the flowers in it, plastic wrap and all.
A smile lit Rebecca’s eyes. “Thank you.” She lifted her hand and gingerly touched the dressing on her forehead. “The nurse told me Katie and Grace are okay.” There was a question in her tone. “Did you take them to my brother’s house?”
“Actually,” Jake said, sitting down in the pleather chair next to her bed, “Katie and Grace are with Samuel in the waiting room at the end of the hall. The nurse said they could stop in briefly if you felt up to a few visitors.”
“I do.” She struggled to push herself up with her elbows and winced. She lay back down. “It would make me feel better to see for myself that they’re okay.”
Jake rested his elbows on the edge of her bed and his fingers lingered inches from the tubes running into the back of her hand. “I’ll get them in a minute, but first we need to talk.”
She slowly turned her head on the pillow to fully face him and lifted her eyebrows as if to say, “What?”
“You’re going to have to make a statement to the sheriff.”
Rebecca pressed her lips together but still didn’t say anything.
“Someone tried to kill you.”
She stared at him, her eyes lacking both shock and fear.
“Samuel is also going to have to talk to the sheriff. The events this morning won’t allow me to have you resolve this through your Amish neighbors. Law enforcement must be involved.”
Rebecca tried again to sit up by pushing her elbows under her, but she collapsed back on the mattress. “You don’t have the authority to tell me anything. This is my life. My family.”
The sudden harshness of her words sliced through him. Confused by her anger, he dared touch the back of her hand, cautious of the tubes. “I need to make sure you’re safe.”
“I imagine this would also make a great research paper for you. A nice—what do they call it?—a feather in your cap? Lots of publicity for you. Professor Burke stumbles upon drugs on an Amish widow’s farm.” She scrunched up her nose. “Imagine when they connect this all to Willard, the Amish murderer.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and pulled her hands over her midsection in a protective gesture.
“I’m sorry. The sheriff needs to talk to you.”
A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
Jake stood, pushing back the chair, its wooden legs dragging across the worn linoleum. He tamped down the conflicting emotions welling inside him.
Did she really think that little of him? That he’d use this information for a research paper?
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll bring in the kids now.”
Without saying a word, Rebecca nodded.
*
Katie’s chatter floated down the hall to Rebecca. She touched her forehead and wished she could somehow hide her injury. She didn’t want to worry the girls.
Rebecca fumbled with the remote the nurse had showed her and she moved the head of the bed up a few more inches. Squaring her shoulders, she hoped she appeared stronger than she felt.
The professor appeared in the doorway, then stepped aside to allow her children to enter the room before him. Samuel held his little sisters’ hands. He’s such a good big brother. Rebecca quickly swiped at a tear, frustrated with how close to the surface her emotions lurked. The reason she had lashed out at the professor.
“Hi, Mem,” Samuel said sheepishly. Rebecca forced a smile, but suddenly the memory of the dark shadow raising his arm to slam something down on her head came to mind.
An oppressive weight squeezed her lungs and she turned to stare out the window. Soft white clouds floated across the pale blue fall sky. She wanted nothing more than to go home and forget about this mess.
Neh, not her Samuel. He wouldn’t have hurt her. Not this young man who was protectively ushering his little sisters into her hospital room with whispered words of reassurance. She had heard him when they entered the door: “Mem’s okay. She’ll be better and home soon.”
Grace broke free from her big brother’s grasp and ran over to the bed. “Mem!” She threw herself down on the bed and buried her face in Rebecca’s knees.
Katie, the quieter of the two, wandered over to stand next to her mother and sister.
“I’m okay, girls. I should be home soon. Is everything okay?”
Grace nodded slowly.
Then Rebecca turned to Samuel, who stood at the end of the bed. “Are you okay with the girls?” She trusted him, she truly did.
He nodded, the look in his eyes hard to read under the shadow of his straw hat.
Muffled voices sounded in the hallway outside her door. The sheriff strolled in, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth. He touched a black unit on his shoulder and the voices stopped.
“Didn’t know you had a full house.” The sheriff took a step back. “I could come back later.”
Rebecca gently brushed her hand across Grace’s hair and the little girl lifted her head. Rebecca forced a smile that hurt the inside of her head. “Go with your big brother to the waiting room. Sheriff Maxwell wants to talk to me.” She looked up and locked gazes with Samuel.
He bowed his head and reached for Katie’s hand, then Grace’s.
“There are too many people in this room,” a nurse said as she strode in. She stopped short upon seeing the sheriff. Then she hiked her chin and glared pointedly at each of the offenders. “I’m sorry, Sheriff Maxwell, but Mrs. Fisher needs to rest. She has a concussion.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“A minute.” The nurse turned and left the room.
Rebecca’s family said their goodbyes, and Samuel ushered the two girls out, their Amish dresses and b
onnets out of place against the sterility of the modern hospital room.
The professor touched Rebecca’s arm. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
“I’d like you to stay.”
The sheriff nodded in assent.
“I have a few questions,” Sheriff Maxwell said.
Samuel slowed up at the door with his sisters. “Samuel, please take your sisters to the waiting room.” Her daughters didn’t need to hear this.
“What do you know about the marijuana crops growing on your land?”
Something about the way the sheriff said your land unnerved Rebecca. She folded over the corner of the blanket and ran her pinched fingers along its edge. “I hired Uri and Jonas Yoder to help on the farm. Yesterday, Samuel told us he’d discovered they had been using our land to grow these horrible plants.”
The sheriff scratched his jaw. “The Yoder brothers tell me your son was the one who planted the marijuana. They claim they knew nothing about the plants since they were tucked in a back corner of your land.”
Rebecca smoothed the folded edge of the blanket. The dull pain in her head grew to an unbearable thump. “I… They…” She crossed her arms over her middle. “Last night we went to the Yoders’ house and the boys claimed my son was involved, but they were using that as an excuse.”
The sheriff wrapped his hand around the metal bar of the footboard. “Rebecca you’ve had a few rough years.”
She felt her mouth grow dry.
“Have you considered that Samuel might be responsible?” he continued.
She blinked slowly, sensing the professor’s watchful gaze. Did everyone think she lacked good judgment? She had, after all, married a murderer.
Rebecca couldn’t squeeze out any words, fearing her emotions would get the best of her.
“Samuel’s a good kid,” the professor said. Relief swept over her. Yes, yes he is.
“I don’t think he’d get mixed up with drugs,” the professor continued. “From my experience, I’ve had no indication he’s been involved with the drugs in Apple Creek.”
“What are your impressions of Uri and Jonas Yoder?” The sheriff tapped his fingers on his thigh.
The professor stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I had no indication that they were involved with drugs either. But my time with any of the Amish youth is limited.”
The sheriff nodded his head slowly, as if considering all this. “I’m sending a crew over to the farm to destroy the crops.”
Rebecca nodded quickly, immediately regretting the motion as a new wave of pain crashed over her. “That’s what I was trying to do when I was attacked.”
“You didn’t see your attacker?”
“No.” She threaded her fingers together, unease tickling her throat.
“Rebecca, I know you’ve had a tough time of it, but I want you to know that state forfeiture laws state that any property connected to a crime can be confiscated.”
“Confiscated?” the professor asked, the alarm in his voice setting her nerves on edge.
The sheriff cut a sidelong glance to the professor. “Yes, and if the drugs that led to Elmer’s crash can be traced back to illegal activity on your farm, you would also be liable. And there’s prison to consider.”
If the sheriff had come here to scare her, he could consider his visit a colossal success. She moved to place one hand to her mouth, but the wires on her hand got caught on the side rail. A painful tug reminded her of her injuries, and she dropped her hand. The professor gently untangled the wires and placed her hand by her side. He grazed the skin on the back of her hand softly with the pad of his thumb before releasing her hand.
Rebecca glanced up at the professor through a watery haze. She couldn’t talk for fear of having a total meltdown.
“Can this wait until she’s feeling better?” the professor asked. “This is all news to Rebecca. She had no knowledge of the crops prior to yesterday.”
The sheriff stepped toward the door. “I don’t want you to blindly protect Samuel. There’s a lot at stake here for you and your little girls.”
A dull thud pulsed behind her eyes. “I am not blindly protecting anyone.” Did the sheriff think Samuel had planted the marijuana and tried to stop her this morning? Her mind flashed to the shadow bearing down on her. Samuel couldn’t have possibly—
“I did it,” Samuel blurted from the doorway, where he must have been secretly listening to their conversation. “My mem had nothing to do with this. She didn’t even know about the crops until I told the professor last night. I’m the only one responsible.”
With a trembling hand, Rebecca peeled back the white covers of her hospital bed. She swung her feet around and shook her head, refusing the professor’s assistance.
Standing on shaky legs, Rebecca held out her arm to Samuel. “You need to forgive yourself.”
Her son bowed his head and tapped the frame of the door with the tip of his boot. The image of the little boy she had first come to know haunted her memory. She loved him as her own. Her heart ached for him.
She moved slowly across the cold hospital floor that seemed to tilt with each step. She was aware of the professor hovering next to her.
“You need to forgive yourself for whatever you feel you did wrong when it came to your father,” she repeated. “Your dat was a bad man. Not you.”
Samuel hung his head, unwilling to look her in the eyes.
“You saved lives by helping law enforcement get him off the street.” She reached up to touch Samuel, but her arm dropped to her side. “Forgive yourself. Move on. Don’t try to ease your guilt by taking blame for the marijuana crops in some misguided attempt to protect me. It’s not going to solve anything.”
Samuel sniffed and his shoulders shook.
“I know you would never hurt me.” She touched the bandage on her head. “I know it wasn’t your idea to plant the marijuana on the farm.” She shook her head and immediately regretted it. “I know that’s not you. Elmer made his own bad choices. Not you. Forgive yourself.”
Little footsteps sounded and Katie and Grace ran into the room, then hung back, as if sensing something intense was going on.
“Son,” the sheriff finally spoke up, “are you confessing to growing the marijuana?”
Her son’s eyes moved to his little sisters, then to his mem. Samuel nodded. “Yes, I’m responsible. My mem had nothing to do with it.”
“Neh, Samuel. Stop this foolishness,” Rebecca pleaded.
“I’m guilty.” Samuel stepped forward.
The sheriff grabbed Samuel’s arm. “I’m going to have to take you down to the station.” The sheriff started rattling off something about a right to an attorney, but all Rebecca could focus on was the metal handcuffs binding Samuel’s wrists.
The world suddenly grew very dark. Rebecca sensed the professor’s hand on her elbow as she backed up until the back of her legs connected with the bed. She planted a hand on the mattress to steady herself. “Don’t do this.”
The sheriff glanced her way, a look of contrition in his eyes. “I’ll call Jake to let you know what’s going on. Okay?”
When she didn’t answer—couldn’t answer—the sheriff added, “I’ll make sure he’s okay in lockup.”
Rebecca heard soothing words from the professor but couldn’t make heads or tails of them. Didn’t the sheriff know that nothing would ever be okay again?
NINE
Jake swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and squinted up at the sun hanging low in the sky. A few days had passed since Samuel’s arrest and subsequent release on bail. The Fisher family had a lot on their minds. Fortunately, Rebecca had been released from the hospital. She dismissed the doctor’s orders to rest, insisting that farm life went on.
With aching muscles, Jake maneuvered the wagon into place behind the barn with Samuel’s help. Then Samuel rode the tractor—without rubber on its tires—into the far corner of the barn. The two men had worked in relative silence most of the da
y, both in tune with the work at hand. Jake had done some gardening as a kid, but he had no idea he’d enjoy working the land so much.
When Samuel emerged from the barn, he made a straight line for the house. Jake called out to him. “We need to talk.”
Samuel kept walking.
“You can’t ignore the situation. The Amish might like to keep the law separate, but you’re caught in the legal system now. It will not go away.”
Samuel spun around and adjusted his straw hat low on his forehead to hide his eyes. “Who says I’m ignoring it? I promised you wouldn’t lose your bail money. I’ll be there on the court date.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Any idea when that will be?”
“It hasn’t been set yet. The lawyer I hired will let us know.”
Samuel slowly shook his head. “Why are you doing all this for us? It’s not your problem.”
“I don’t think you’re guilty. I think you’re trying to protect your mother by taking the blame. Confessing to something you didn’t do is not going to help you or your mother. The right people need to be punished.”
Samuel clenched his jaw.
“Someone’s been threatening you and your mom.”
“You think you’re so smart?” Samuel’s words came out clipped with frustration and anger. “If you’re so smart, you’d stay away from here, too. How do you think having an Englisher work the farm appears to our Amish neighbors?”
“Your mother needed help. I’m helping you guys harvest the crops now that you’ve lost the farmhands.”
The young man pressed his lips together and shook his head. He had obviously said his piece.
Jake rolled his aching shoulders and decided to change the subject. “I haven’t had this much physical exertion since my army days.”
Samuel’s expression softened. “You were in the army?”
“Yes, I wanted to serve my country and it helped pay for college.”
“Maybe I could follow that path and go to college. Tommy seems to think I couldn’t get a decent job without a college degree.”
Jake studied the young man’s thoughtful expression. A criminal record would also prove limiting, but he decided not to go there. “Do you agree with the Amish stance on being a conscientious objector?”
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