Lancaster County Reckoning

by Kit Wilkinson

“We...didn’t have a relationship until recently.”

  The chief looked up at that. “None at all? Was it a custody issue?”

  “No, it was... To be honest, I’m not really sure what it was. I was raised by my mother’s parents. They blamed Jesse for my mother’s death, so maybe that’s why they told me my father had died when I was a baby. They didn’t want anything to do with him.”

  “And when did you find out the truth?”

  “About a month ago. Jesse sent me a letter, and we met for the first time a week later.”

  “Did you tell anyone that you were coming to Willow Trace today? Did anyone of your acquaintance know about Jesse and your recent discovery that he is your father?”

  “No. No one knew I was coming. Only Jesse. And I hadn’t told anyone about him contacting me, other than my grandparents. But they didn’t want to discuss it.”

  McClendon looked to Thomas, who hoped the questions were nearly over. Darcy looked ready to collapse.

  “She’s told you everything as it happened,” Thomas said, hoping to head off any more questions.

  “Has she?” the chief asked. “So you can confirm what she’s said about the letter and meeting with Jesse? He told you about his daughter?”

  Thomas flushed. “Well...no, actually, today was the first I heard of it.”

  “Do you consider yourself close to Mr. Troyer?”

  “Ja, of course. We have been neighbors for twenty years.”

  “And he never mentioned a daughter? Not even in the past few weeks?”

  “No,” Thomas admitted. “He has spoken of his wife and I knew she had died, but there was never mention of a daughter.” Thomas couldn’t deny that the situation was strange. There were so many things that didn’t make sense. And the only people with answers were the threatening man from the phone call and Jesse, who might never wake up again.

  But Thomas believed that Darcy was being honest with them. Her shock and horror at Jesse’s attack had been real. And so was her fear at the phone call.

  “It must be related—the beating and the phone call,” Thomas said. “Don’t you think? It was almost like the caller was watching us. Like he knew exactly when to call.”

  “So what’s your theory on why anyone would want to beat up a nice Amish man and threaten his daughter?” McClendon asked.

  Thomas shook his head slightly. For that he had no answer. “I cannot even imagine who would want to hurt Jesse. He’s just a sweet old Amish fellow who minds his own business.”

  “You said he’s been your neighbor for twenty years. Where did he live before?”

  Thomas took off his hat and scratched his head. “I don’t recall. That would be a question for the bishop.”

  Could all this be tied to Jesse’s past? Jesse’s life before he came to Willow Trace? But that was so long ago. Even if he had enemies from decades in the past, why would they come to trouble him now?

  Thomas shifted his weight and kept one eye on the door. He was on the lookout for his friend Elijah. Earlier he had asked the ER staff to notify not only the bishop and leader of the Ordnung about the beating, but also his friend, who had spent many years in the Englisch world working as a police detective before returning to his Amish roots. Thomas hoped Elijah’s experience with police investigations could help them.

  McClendon continued questioning Darcy. “Do you give the police permission to track your incoming phone calls? In the case this happens again?”

  “Of course. You can have my phone if that helps you find whoever did this to Jesse,” she said, handing over her phone.

  Thomas saw Elijah Miller enter through the waiting room doors and walked over to greet him. He met his good friend with a hearty handshake. “Are you a sight for sore eyes. Here. Come. McClendon is speaking to her.”

  “Chief,” Elijah said as they joined Darcy and McClendon. “And you must be Miss Simmons. The whole Ordnung is praying for Jesse. And I’m here to help in any way I can.”

  Darcy seemed confused as she looked over Elijah and took in his Amish dress but somewhat Englisch mannerisms and speech, which Thomas had learned that his friend could turn on and off depending on what the situation might call for.

  “Eli is a former detective,” Thomas explained.

  “Well, I’m just a farmer now, Miss Simmons. But I worked for ten years on the force in Philly, before coming back home,” he said.

  Darcy nodded.

  “I just came from the cottage,” Elijah said. “There was a team of investigators. So far, they seem to have no leads on who attacked Jesse. Jesse lived plain. Very plain. There was nothing in his home that anyone would want to steal. But there was a business card with Miss Simmons’s personal information and number. We found that on the floor with a few papers and some old pictures.”

  “Well, that could be how they got your number,” McClendon said, turning to Darcy. “But that doesn’t explain how they would know you’re Jesse’s daughter.”

  “There was a letter there from Darcy,” Elijah said. “I didn’t read it. I think it was marked into evidence with the photos.”

  “Photos?” Thomas repeated. “I can’t imagine Jesse having photos. It’s verboten.”

  “Forbidden,” Elijah said, translating. “But if they were his only tie to his daughter for all these years maybe he kept them anyway. Or maybe he just got them recently.”

  Still, pictures? Thomas’s head spun with doubts and confusion. This did not sound like the Jesse that he knew.

  “In the morning,” Elijah continued, “a few of us are planning to meet up at Jesse’s and help put the place back together. It’s quite a mess.”

  “I’ll be there.” Thomas shook Elijah’s hand.

  “Miss Simmons—” Elijah tipped his hat “—I hope you hear some good news very soon.”

  “Thank you.” Darcy nodded and finished up answering a few more questions from the chief.

  Thomas walked Elijah from the waiting area.

  “Thank you for coming.” He shook his friend’s hand. “It is gut to have someone who can help us make sense of these things. Not that I can see any sense in the harm that was done to Jesse. He was really beat up. And you heard about the phone call to Darcy?”

  “No.” Eli looked grim. “What phone call?”

  Thomas filled Elijah in on every detail. “If only Jesse could tell us what this is all about.”

  “I think Darcy should take that threat seriously after what happened to Jesse. But what could Jesse have that would be worth nearly killing him over?”

  “That is what I keep asking myself over and over,” Thomas said. “Do you remember when Jesse moved here? You and I wanted to go to his cottage every day after chores and play baseball or lawn croquet.”

  “I remember.” Elijah laughed then stopped abruptly.

  “Do you remember if he ever said where he came from?”

  “No. I don’t guess I ever really thought about it too much. He always just fit in. Like he’d been here forever.”

  “But he wasn’t,” Thomas said. “And he’s got a full-grown Englisch daughter to prove it.”

  “Maybe the Elders know. They must know something about his past from when they accepted him in to the Ordnung. I could ask my father.”

  “Would you? But would he even be able to tell you anything?” Thomas wondered if that was the right thing to do. “I mean it’s one thing for us to know he has a daughter. It’s another for us to know the whole story behind their past and their separation.”

  “I’m sure if Jesse thought that his daughter was in danger, he’d want us to help, no?” Elijah patted him on the back. “And we can help a lot more if we know more.”

  “But if we interfere then are we leaving it up to God?”

  “God will work through all of us. We will eit
her get the answers or we won’t.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at the cottage at noon tomorrow.”

  Elijah smiled. “All will be well.”

  All will be well. In God’s time.

  Thomas returned to the waiting room. McClendon had gone. Darcy had reseated herself on the other side of the room and did not look as if she wanted company. He could respect that. She had gone through a lot in one day. He imagined Darcy was barely holding it together.

  Thomas slumped down into a seat that he decided looked the least uncomfortable. He lowered his hat over his eyes and let his chin rest on his chest.

  Secret daughter? Jesse attacked and left for dead? Threats that he has something that belonged to someone else? Thomas just couldn’t wrap his head around it. It was as if the Jesse he’d always known was someone else entirely. Images of Jesse swam in Thomas’s head as he drifted off to sleep...

  * * *

  “Hey, man, wake up.”

  Thomas sat up fast. There was a horrible pain in his back and neck. Dr. Blake Jamison of the ER stood over him, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. Thomas checked the clock on the wall.

  “Seven thirty?” He stood and rubbed his neck. “Last I saw, it was midnight. I guess I fell asleep.”

  “Glad somebody did.” Blake glanced over toward Darcy. “Is that Jesse’s daughter? I have news.”

  “Ja. Come.” Thomas shook the ache from his stiff bones and led his doctor friend across the large waiting area. He hoped and prayed that Blake had good news.

  “Darcy, this is Dr. Jamison.” Thomas cleared the sleep from his voice. “Blake is the head of the ER here. He’s been with Jesse.”

  A brief smile brushed over Darcy’s lips. The lipstick had worn away and her lips were no longer stained with color. Plain and unpainted, they looked even lovelier to him than before. She shook hands with Blake. “So, how is Jesse?”

  Blake rubbed a thumb and forefinger over his scruffy stubble. It was clear he’d been at work for hours. “Well, he’s still with us. He made it through the night. The last procedure seemed to stop the rest of the internal bleeding.”

  Thomas let out a sigh of relief.

  “I get the sense that you led with the good news,” Darcy said shrewdly.

  Blake gave her a tired smile. “You’d be right. I’m afraid not all of my news is good.”

  “So what is the bad news?” she asked.

  “Jesse has slipped into a coma.”

  FOUR

  A coma? Thomas was thankful Jesse had lived. But for Darcy’s sake, and for the sake of Jesse’s continued safety, he sure wished he could ask his old neighbor a few questions. From the look of disappointment on Darcy’s face, Thomas guessed she was thinking the same thing. How were they going to get to the bottom of this without Jesse’s help?

  “A coma?” Darcy repeated. “How long will that last?”

  “I can’t say,” Blake answered. “But this can happen when recovering from such trauma to the brain. In many cases, the patient is able to eventually make a full recovery.”

  “So he will wake up?”

  “I can’t make any promises, but we certainly hope so. There’s a very good chance, and many of his indicators look positive. Still, he won’t be out of the woods completely even after waking up. There was a lot of hemorrhaging and we won’t be able to gauge the full extent of the damage until we can communicate with him.” Blake looked at Thomas.

  “So...what? What does that mean?” Darcy dropped her arms by her sides, demanding the rest of the news.

  “There is always some potential for brain damage. He may end up losing some or all of his cognitive and motor skills, and it’s very possible his memory will be affected.”

  “So he won’t remember who he is? He won’t remember me? Or Thomas?”

  “Every case is different,” Blake said, trying to console her. But Thomas knew what Blake was really saying was that he had no idea what was going to happen to Jesse. And Thomas could see Darcy’s tiny light of hope extinguishing. He couldn’t imagine how she felt, reconnecting with her father after all of these years only to run the risk of losing him again so soon.

  “Doctors have to tell you all of the possibilities,” Thomas said, trying to sound casual. “It doesn’t mean that’s what will happen. God will decide what will happen to Jesse.”

  “So you’ve said.” Darcy’s expression soured. “But isn’t there anything you can do medically to help him heal faster or better? To wake him from the coma?”

  “Unfortunately no,” Blake said. “His body is already doing what it needs. It’s trying to heal, to live. He’s breathing on his own. We just have to wait now.”

  “So he stays here? In this hospital? Can I move him to a hospital in the city? Closer to me?”

  “Moving him right now...” Blake shook his head. “Well, that could set on a temporary decline in body function and when he’s already functioning at the lowest level, that would be taking a very unnecessary risk. We should avoid anything that would stress or strain his system more.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Of course you can,” he said. “Anytime you like.”

  Darcy nodded. “How about now?”

  “He’s in the ICU,” Blake said. “Room 11.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” She started toward the door, but turned back to them. “Thomas, may I join you and your friends at Jesse’s later today? I’d like to help clean up.”

  “You would be most welcome,” Thomas answered with a nod.

  Blake and Thomas watched her move away toward the elevators.

  “Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” Blake put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder.

  “I was going to say the same to you.” Thomas tried to muster a smile but the heaviness on his heart wouldn’t allow it. “You are working yourself too hard, Blake, but thank you. Thank you for fighting so hard for my friend. I know you are doing all you can to help Jesse.”

  “He’s a tough old bird,” Blake said. “But he was beaten up like I’ve rarely seen. And I’ve seen more than a fair share of beatings working in the ER.”

  Thomas shut his eyes as he thought of the state they had found the old man in. The pain he must have been in. At least now Jesse could not feel the pain. He could be thankful to God for that.

  “It’s good you found him when you did,” Blake continued. “Without blood and other fluids, I don’t think he would have lasted much longer...”

  “Then he must live,” said Thomas. “And I pray that he does. Even apart from his value to the community and to me, it would be so sad for his daughter to lose him now, when she only just found him again.”

  Blake’s eyes looked intrigued under the shadow of exhaustion. “What do you think of Miss Simmons?”

  Darcy Simmons? Heat rose to Thomas’s cheeks as he remembered the feel of her soft hand and the way her long brown waves framed her sweet face. “I—I think she is scared and confused. And...I think she is in a lot of danger.”

  * * *

  Darcy stayed with Jesse for most of the morning. He looked so small and weak and old, lying there lifeless in the hospital bed, with tubes running in and out of him. The nurses said he was blessed to be alive. But he hardly looked it.

  She wished he would wake up. She had so many questions. She no longer believed anything her grandparents had told her as a child about her parents. Was her mother really killed in a car crash? Why had Jesse started a life with the Amish? It was clear from all the photos of the past that Jesse had not been born Amish. Why hadn’t he stayed in the non-Amish world and raised her? Or at least taken her with him?

  There had to be reasons for his choices. There had to be something that caused him to choose this path—a path that had not included her in his life. She tried not to let her questi
ons and confusion cause anger toward her grandparents. But it was hard not to feel betrayed by them and all the lies. She’d probably be upset with Jesse, too, except that he looked so helpless lying there all but lifeless in the hospital bed.

  Please wake up, Jesse. Please tell me what happened. Tell me who did this to you and what they want.

  Darcy hated to leave Jesse but she was determined to get to the cottage and help clean up. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something there that would tell her more about her father—or at least give her a clue as to who was after him. And now her.

  Darcy called a close friend and colleague who was kind enough to use a spare key to her town house and deliver a change of clothes and her makeup bag to the hospital. After breakfast, Darcy felt revived with a clean suit, fresh makeup and some food in her belly. She headed out to Willow Trace, driving through the beautiful back roads of Lancaster County. Her friend had asked her lots of questions when dropping off the clothes, which Darcy had answered merely by saying that a close family member was in a coma and she’d be away from work until further notice. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be long. Funny, though, she thought as she passed an Amish man driving a horse-drawn buggy that was moving at a snail’s pace compared to her, how time seemed to move slower here. Even with all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

  When Darcy drove up in front of the cottage, there were already several Amish buggies parked in front. And there was Thomas. He was seated on the front porch, head down, a large book in his hand.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  He looked up at her. “Good day, Miss Simmons. You look all cleaned up and fancy.”

  Heat rose to Darcy’s cheeks. She looked down at her designer suit. “I guess it’s a little dressy for cleaning.”

  “We are just finishing up,” Thomas said. “It is time for lunch.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry. I should have come earlier.” Darcy was truly disappointed. She had really wanted to help. She had wanted to be a part of this. She had wanted to see Jesse’s home and feel closer to him and his friends. The wave of emotions made Darcy shift her weight over her heels. Life had taught her that depending on anyone made her vulnerable to getting hurt. She couldn’t allow herself to get attached to Thomas or the others in this community just because they were being kind. Maybe she should have just stayed at the hospital.