An Amish Harvest

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An Amish Harvest Page 11

by Beth Wiseman


  “Can I get you anything else?” Janie asked, stepping closer to him. “Do you want me to see if I can find some ice for your arm?”

  “No, danki. I’ll be fine.” Jonathan glanced around the parking lot. “I hope everyone is all right. I thought it was safe when I slowed to turn. I never expected that car behind us to hit the buggy.”

  Janie sank down onto the bench beside him, determined to ease his obvious distress. The man was shaking. “From what I saw, it wasn’t your fault. You did signal before you turned.” She pointed at his arm. “I really think you need to get your arm examined before you think much more about this.” She spotted an EMT talking to one of the passengers nearby. “Do you want me to get an EMT to look at it?”

  Jonathan shook his head again. “No, there are people who need help more than I do.”

  “Jonathan.” Craig appeared in front of them. “One of the police officers would like to get your perspective on what happened. He’s on his way over.”

  “Sure.” Jonathan cleared his throat.

  Janie stood. “I’ll see if I can help anyone else.” She stepped away and headed toward Bianca. She hoped she’d have a better opportunity to tell Jonathan and Craig what else she saw later.

  Jonathan tried in vain to will his body to stop shaking, but he continued to tremble like a leaf caught in a windstorm. His arm throbbed, and the wound on his forehead stung. He took in the tumultuous scene around him and it all felt surreal. His passengers were receiving medical attention from a group of firefighters and EMTs. One of the passengers was lying on a stretcher, and others had bandages on their heads or arms.

  His stomach pitched as trepidation seized him. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he put his passengers’ lives at risk?

  Less than thirty minutes ago, he was enjoying giving another tour around the Bird-in-Hand area. For nearly a month, he’d been working as a buggy tour driver and relishing every minute of it.

  He’d originally come to Bird-in-Hand for a short visit with his grandparents, but when Craig Warner, his grandparents’ next-door neighbor, had offered him the job, Jonathan decided to stay through the end of November. He was not only making money to help his grandparents, but avoiding going home to Mechanicsville, Maryland, for a while longer.

  “Jonathan?” A police officer—a balding, portly, middle-aged man with graying brown hair and dark eyes—broke through his thoughts. “Would you please state your full name?” Pen poised, he was ready to take notes.

  “It’s Jonathan Omar Stoltzfus,” he said, then spelled his last name.

  “What do you remember from before the crash?” the officer asked.

  Jonathan ran his hand down his face. It was all a blur. Why couldn’t he think straight?

  “Just take your time,” Craig said as he sat down next to Jonathan on the bench.

  “We were coming back from the tour,” Jonathan began, his voice shaky. “I thought I had signaled to turn into the parking lot. As I started to turn, I felt the jolt of the car hitting the rear right wheel, and then the back of the buggy collapsed and I was thrown to the ground. As soon as I got my bearings, I jumped up and started helping the passengers.”

  The officer was silent as he wrote frantically in his notebook, then asked his next question. “What is the route you take for the tour?”

  Jonathan explained the route and the officer wrote that all down too.

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “Almost a month.”

  “Had you ever given buggy tours before you started working here?”

  “No, but I’m a cautious driver. I always put my passengers’ safety first.”

  The officer nodded and then fired off a few more questions.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said when he was finished. “I’m going to talk to a few of the passengers and find out what they saw.” He pointed toward Jonathan’s arm, the one he hadn’t realized he was still rubbing. “You should get that looked at.”

  “He’s right,” Craig said as the officer left. “I want you to go to the hospital and get an X-ray. I’ll get someone to drive you.”

  “Thanks.” Jonathan glanced around the parking lot, and his eyes found Janie.

  Jonathan studied her as she leaned down and said something to a man before placing an ice pack on his knee. Jonathan had never met an Amish girl with red hair before. Janie had been so attentive when she’d tended to his head wound. Craig mentioned last week that he had a new employee starting today, but Jonathan hadn’t seen Janie until she approached him after the accident. Something about her intrigued him, but he pushed those thoughts away as Bianca came up to him and Craig.

  “Jonathan, Janie told me you took a hard fall from the buggy. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” Jonathan tried to shrug off his injuries even as his arm continued to throb.

  “I think he should go to the hospital for an X-ray,” Craig said. “I need to stay here. Would you take him?”

  “Of course I will.” Bianca’s brow furrowed with concern. “You look like you’re in a lot of pain, Jonathan. We should get going.”

  Jonathan followed Bianca to her SUV. As he walked past Janie, she gave him a concerned smile, and he nodded before climbing into the car.

  Jonathan couldn’t get the picture of the damaged buggy and injured passengers out of his mind. Later that evening, as he sat at the small kitchen table in his grandparents’ modest two-bedroom cottage on his uncle’s farm, the feeling of dread that had taken hold of him earlier that day continued to consume him. He kept wondering what he could’ve done to prevent the accident.

  His tour had seemed so typical, but then it turned into a horrible nightmare. What had he done wrong? Janie said he signaled, but was she right? Witnessing the accident must have been upsetting for her, maybe enough to think she saw him signal when he hadn’t.

  He stared down at his plate filled with food, but his stomach remained tied in knots. The thought of eating made him feel nauseated.

  “You need to eat,” Mammi said from the other side of the table. “You’re much too skinny, Jonathan. Isn’t your mamm feeding you enough?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “I usually make my own meals now that I have my own haus.”

  Mammi blotted her mouth with a napkin. “Your mamm should cook for you since you don’t have a fraa. I’ll have to discuss that with her the next time I speak with her.”

  “Mammi, I’m going to be thirty in February,” Jonathan gently reminded her. “I’m capable of cooking my meals.”

  “You’re obviously not cooking enough,” she grumbled as she scooped more mashed potatoes onto her own fork.

  “Now, Mary,” Daadi chimed in, “how is Jonathan going to find a fraa if he’s fat?”

  Jonathan nearly choked on his water. “I’m not planning on getting fat, and I’ve all but given up on finding a fraa to marry. At this point, I think I’m too old to date.”

  “If you’re not dead yet, then you’re not too old,” Daadi said with a wink.

  Jonathan smiled a little despite the guilt that had settled on his shoulders, tightening his already-sore muscles. He’d always enjoyed visiting his father’s parents. It was a shame they lived nearly 160 miles away from his home in Maryland. Jonathan’s parents met while his mother was in Pennsylvania visiting her cousins one summer, when they were both in their early twenties. After Jonathan’s father married his mother, they moved to Maryland to live near her family. From the time he was a young child, Jonathan always looked forward to visiting his grandparents.

  A knock on the back door startled him. Before either of his grandparents could stand, he jumped up and hustled to open the door. Craig was standing on the back porch.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at suppertime. But I wanted to check on you.”

  “Come in.” Jonathan opened the door wide and led him into the kitchen.

  Craig greeted the older couple and then turned to Jonathan. “How are you feeling?”

  “So
re, but I’m okay. I didn’t need any stitches in my forehead, and I just have to ice my arm later. The doctor said it’s a sprain, but it’s really nothing.” He wasn’t exactly truthful. His arm hurt, but he was more worried about the tour group that had been in his buggy.

  “Jonathan, could I talk to you outside for a minute?” Craig asked.

  “Of course.”

  Craig said good-bye to Jonathan’s grandparents, then stepped out onto the small porch as Jonathan followed him.

  “How are all the passengers doing?” Jonathan held his breath, afraid of what Craig might say.

  “They’re doing all right.” Craig nodded and rested his hand on one of the pillars that held up the porch roof. “One man suffered a minor concussion after hitting his head on one of the posts in the buggy. Another woman broke her arm, but the rest only have minor bumps, bruises, and cuts.”

  Jonathan nodded as more remorse plagued him. He should have prevented the accident . . . somehow.

  “It could have been much worse.” Craig sighed, and his look of concern for the passengers turned to . . . was it regret?

  “Jonathan, I spoke to my lawyer, and he thinks it would be a good idea if we took you off driving duty for a while. Things may get messy if anyone in the tour group decides to sue us. The driver of the car insists you didn’t signal. He will only admit to possibly following too closely, but he says he didn’t have time to brake fast enough to avoid hitting the buggy.”

  He shook his head. “I have a difficult time believing you were careless, but when I spoke to the passengers, they all said they weren’t paying attention to you. They were just enjoying the end of the ride.” Craig sighed again. “Jonathan, I still want you to work for me, but I’d like you to work in the stable for a while until we get this cleared up. How do you feel about that?”

  Jonathan rubbed his chin as disappointment mixed with guilt. He didn’t want to give up his job as a buggy tour guide, but he understood Craig’s reasons. “That’s fine. I enjoy working with the horses.”

  “Great.” Craig shook Jonathan’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  “Ya, I’ll be there.”

  “Good night.” Craig descended the porch steps and headed toward his large farmhouse next door.

  Jonathan suddenly remembered something he’d wanted to ask his boss. “Craig!” he called, causing the man to turn and face him. “Did you pick up my straw hat by any chance? I lost it when I fell out of the buggy.”

  Craig shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see it.”

  “Well, maybe someone else picked it up, but I have a spare. Thanks.” Jonathan stepped back into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

  “What did Craig have to say?” Daadi asked as he cut up a piece of chicken on his plate.

  “Did he have any more news about the tourists who were in the accident?” Mammi chimed in.

  Jonathan shared what Craig had reported about the passengers.

  “Thank the Lord their injuries weren’t worse.” Mammi’s eyes were sympathetic.

  Jonathan ran his fingers over his glass of water. “Craig said he needs me to stop driving the buggies for a while. His lawyer thinks it would be a gut idea in case any of the passengers sue. He wants me to work in the stables.”

  “Oh.” Daadi leaned back in his seat. “Did he say how long he needs you to work in the stables?”

  Jonathan shook his head and his throat dried. “I just feel so terrible about the accident. I never meant to put those people in harm’s way.” He cleared his throat, fighting back his raw emotion. “Craig said the driver of the car insists I didn’t signal before I started to turn into the driveway, but I thought I did. One of the store’s employees told me she saw me signal. I’m always cautious.”

  “We know you are.” Mammi rested her hand on his. “It was an accident.”

  “You’ve never been reckless.” Daadi spooned peas from his plate. “I’d have a difficult time believing you didn’t signal.”

  “Everyone who was in the accident is going to be okay.” Mammi pointed to his plate, still filled with chicken, potatoes, and peas. “You need to eat. Your food is getting cold.”

  Jonathan glanced down and tried to will his stomach to relax, but all he could think about was the sound of the buggy wheel shattering and the passengers’ screams when the car struck.

  Chapter Two

  It’s a miracle no one was killed,” Dat said before sipping his coffee.

  Janie had spent most of supper telling her parents and her older sister, Marie, about the accident and the events that took place afterward when the emergency responders arrived to help. Her family had listened with interest as she described the scene in detail.

  “Ya, I agree,” Marie said as she cut a slice of their mother’s homemade apple pie. She placed it on a plate and handed it to Dat before tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “It sounds like it was bad.” Janie could see the concern in her sister’s brown eyes, the ones that matched Dat’s. Janie, two years younger than Marie’s twenty-two years, had inherited their mother’s blue eyes. But Mamm’s hair was light brown and Janie was the only person in the family with red hair.

  “You must have been so scared,” Mamm chimed in as she stirred her coffee. “I can’t believe it happened right in front of your eyes.”

  “It was scary,” Janie insisted as Marie handed her pie. “I was just sitting there eating my lunch when it all happened.” She lifted her fork and frowned. “I overheard one of the police officers tell Craig the driver said the accident was Jonathan’s fault. He said Jonathan didn’t signal, but he did. I saw it.”

  Marie handed Mamm pie and then cut a piece for herself. “It sounds like the driver lied. That’s a sin.”

  “That’s not the worst of it.” Janie took a deep breath. She’d had to hold the secret in all day. “The driver was texting on his phone.”

  Marie’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  Janie nodded with emphasis. “I saw him looking down at something in his hand, and I’m sure it had to be a cell phone. He definitely was not watching the road. I was going to tell that police officer, but I never had the opportunity. Bianca ended up really needing my help, and before I knew it, the officers and medical personnel were leaving.

  “Then as soon as all the passengers were on their way and Craig had talked to his lawyer on the phone, he had Eva and me call our drivers, closed the shop early, and drove off to join Bianca at the hospital. I’m going to tell him what I saw tomorrow.”

  Dat frowned and pushed his fork through the flaky piecrust. “No, Janie. Don’t get involved. Let the authorities handle the case.”

  “But it’s not fair that Jonathan is being blamed for something that’s not his fault. I heard Craig talking on the phone to his lawyer.” Janie set her fork next to her plate. “What if Jonathan gets fired over this? I can’t let that happen when I know the truth.”

  “You need to stay out of it, Janie,” Dat warned again. “You just need to worry about your job. Let Craig handle the accident.”

  Janie nodded, then looked down at her uneaten piece of apple pie.

  “My day at the schoolhouse wasn’t nearly as exciting,” Marie said. “In fact, the kinner all behaved quite well.”

  While Marie talked on about her job working as a teacher’s assistant at the nearby schoolhouse, Janie pushed her fork through the pie. She couldn’t stop herself from recalling the anguish in Jonathan’s brown eyes as she took care of the gash on his head. She was certain Jonathan blamed himself for the accident even though he had signaled, but if no one else saw what really happened, only she knew the truth. How could she allow Jonathan to be charged with an accident that was not his fault?

  The question continued to swirl through her mind after her father went out to the barn to care for the animals. As Janie cleared and wiped down the table, her mother started washing the dishes.

  “I really like teaching,” Marie said as she dried a pot. “I’m so t
hankful the assistant position opened up this fall. Maybe I can become a full-time teacher next year.”

  “That would be really nice,” Mamm said, smiling at Marie. “You’d make a very gut teacher.”

  Janie’s focus moved to the end of the counter where Jonathan’s straw hat sat. She’d picked it up at the scene of the accident after he and Bianca left, and she planned to give it back to him tomorrow. She gnawed her lower lip as she listened to her mother and Marie talk. She wanted to discuss the accident and the information she had about the driver, but she didn’t want to go against her father’s instructions.

  “Mamm, do you think Dat is right about the accident?” The question burst from Janie’s lips before she could stop it.

  Mamm spun to face her. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think I should keep the information about the driver to myself?” Janie fingered the washrag she still held in her hands. “I feel as if I need to share what I saw so Jonathan can clear his name.”

  Mamm frowned as she turned toward Janie, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I know you want to help Jonathan, but you need to listen to your dat. Besides, you know it’s not our way to get involved in legal issues. Leave that to the Englishers.” She gave Janie a little smile and turned back to the sink.

  Janie finished cleaning the table and then swept the kitchen floor as Marie talked on about her students. Janie tried to concentrate on her sister’s words, but her thoughts were still stuck on the accident and Jonathan’s innocence.

  After her chores were done, Janie headed upstairs to her room. She chose a book off her shelf, sat on her bed, and began to read, hoping to take her mind off the day’s events. She had just started the second chapter when a knock sounded on her doorframe. She looked up and found Marie watching her with concern in her milk-chocolate brown eyes.

  “Are you all right?” Marie asked, stepping into the room.

  “Ya, I’m fine. Why?” Janie closed the book and set it on the bed beside her.

 

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