A Little Bit of Charm

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A Little Bit of Charm Page 25

by Mary Ellis


  Life was different at work for Rachel too. The head trainer cut her back to Wednesdays and Fridays. An unusually cold, rainy spell kept the expensive show horses confined to the indoor arena. Owners didn’t want their prized animals getting wet and muddy. Because trainers and exercise personnel were getting in each other’s way, hours were reduced until March.

  Rachel offered no argument. Jake was gone and wouldn’t return until spring. After not seeing him for several days, she finally learned the story from one of the grooms. He’d left town the day after their breakup. By the time he returned to Charm, she would probably be back in Pennsylvania, thus ending the most enjoyable period of her life on a bitter note.

  Once the holidays passed, back-to-back ice and snowstorms canceled Sunday services two weeks in a row. Slippery roads created dangerous conditions for people and horses. Rachel and the Stolls spent Sabbath mornings in silent prayer and Bible study. During the afternoons, Rachel wrote long, chatty letters to her three sisters but avoided the topics most on her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about Jake or the shameful way she’d led on Reuben.

  Her weather-imposed exile came to an abrupt end on the following Sunday morning. Sarah woke her with an impatient shake. “Get up, sleepyhead. The roads are clear and the forecast calls for dry and sunny weather. We might hit forty degrees today. We leave for church in half an hour.”

  Rachel swung her legs over the side of the bed and nodded. “I’ll be ready.” The sooner she faced the Reuben conundrum, the better. Waiting would only make him despise her more once he learned the truth. When they arrived at church, she spotted no familiar blond head on the men’s side of the room. Now that she’d come this far, Rachel hoped he was at the service so she could swallow her bitter pill. Afterward she walked with Sarah and Isaac to their buggy.

  “Rachel? Could I have a moment please?” Someone called out her name.

  She turned and saw Reuben’s mother coming toward her. “Guder mariye, Mrs. Mullet.”

  “Guder mariye, but please call me Constance.”

  “I was looking for Reuben earlier. Didn’t he come with you today?”

  “No. He was in a buggy accident almost two weeks ago. He’s been released from the Charm Hospital and transferred to a rehab facility in Somerset.”

  Sarah patted Rachel’s back. “I’ll wait in the buggy to give you two some privacy.”

  Rachel swayed on her feet, feeling a little dizzy. “What?” All this time she thought only of herself while poor Reuben had been injured. “How is he?”

  “Getting better each day. It’ll be a long while before he walks without crutches, but at least the doctors believe he will walk. His daed wouldn’t let me tell you over the phone, and with our weather lately, I couldn’t come to church until today.”

  Rachel pressed a hand to her throat. “How did it happen?” A light rain began to fall, which she barely took note of.

  Constance Mullet raised her umbrella to shelter them both. “We’re not completely certain. Reuben said he was waiting at a stop sign. It was night and the intersection had no street lights. The other road had the right-of-way with a yellow flasher but no stop sign. Highway patrol doesn’t know if he didn’t see the oncoming truck or if his horse got spooked and bolted across the road. Reuben doesn’t remember.” Constance lifted her gaze to meet Rachel’s.

  “Mercy me,” she murmured. “Did he suffer a head injury too?”

  “Just a concussion. He can recall the rest of his life except for the accident. Thank the Lord.”

  “Yes, thank Him for His mercy.” Rachel’s shoulder muscles relaxed.

  “He sure remembers you just fine,” Constance continued. “You’re all that boy talks about whenever we visit. How pretty you are, how sweet tempered. It’s Rachel this and Rachel that.” Constance fluttered her blond eyelashes.

  Rachel’s relief proved short lived. “Will he make a full recovery?”

  “He’ll probably walk with a limp, but he will be fine.” Constance pulled out her cell phone to check the time. “We’re driving to Somerset to see him around one. Do you want us to pick you up? I know he would love to see you.”

  Rachel’s mind sorted and processed the details at lightning speed. “Danki, but if you don’t mind I’ll make the trip another time. May I have the address of the facility?”

  “You’d probably like a few moments alone without his mamm, daed, and four schwestern, jah?” Constance Mullet chuckled good-naturedly. “Seeing that you two haven’t announced your engagement, I shouldn’t permit it. But considering Reuben has a roommate and the staff is constantly going in and out, I suppose it would be okay.” She dug in her purse for a business card. “Here is the address, phone number, and visiting hours. It’s about an hour by car.”

  “I appreciate your coming here, Constance. Tell Reuben I will see him soon.”

  Just how soon no one could have predicted. Crammed into the front seat of a pickup with Ruby and her cousin, Josh, Rachel waited until the Mullet family left the rehab facility. She had bribed her companions with buffet dinners at Bread of Life besides offering to pay for the gas.

  “There they go, heading toward their hired car and driver,” announced Ruby. “You want us to come in with you?”

  “No. I won’t be long.”

  “Good luck. Be brave.” Ruby, privy to what Rachel planned to do, hugged her tightly.

  Rachel jumped out and strode to Room 204 as fast as she could. She carried no flowers, no get well card, no box of chocolates. She brought only the grim announcement that whatever Reuben had planned for their future wasn’t going to happen. Her news would certainly send the man into despair.

  Reuben struggled to sit up when she entered the room. “Rachel! What a sight for sore eyes you are. You just missed my folks and sisters by five minutes.”

  Closing the privacy curtain, she pulled up a chair and delivered her overdue confession within sixty seconds of arrival, not wanting this mean-spirited sham to continue another moment.

  He listened attentively as she explained she could never see him as anything more than a friend, and then she effusively apologized for not being forthright sooner. She begged for his forgiveness and continued friendship.

  He neither fainted, gnashed his teeth, nor tried to hang himself with the traction equipment. In fact, he took the gut-wrenching news with complete composure. “Ah, don’t fret about it. I pretty much figured that out, but I thought I’d see how far you would go with this.” Chuckling merrily, he reached for the TV control. “Did you know this place has cable? One station runs old Westerns all day long. Want to watch Gunsmoke for a while?”

  Rachel was the one who needed a moment of composure. “I would, except that Ruby and Josh are waiting to drive me home. I’d better go.”

  “Ruby Miller?” His eyes rounded. “She was my next choice for courting if you ever dumped me. Do you think you could put in a good word for me?”

  Rachel assured him she would and then shook hands with Casey County’s happiest dairy farmer. Everything discussed in conversation on the ride back to Charm put Reuben in a good light, setting the stage for a bit of matchmaking down the road. Actually, the more she thought about it, the more she thought Reuben and Ruby would be perfect together.

  “Home, sweet home,” said Josh as they turned up the chicken farm driveway. “Looks like the popular Stolls are getting more company, even this late in the day.”

  Rachel leaned forward to see past Ruby to the new arrivals—one tall, gaunt, very old man, one plump, white-haired old woman, and one tiny blond girl in a ghastly brown dress. “As I live and breathe…” she murmured. The bishop, grossmammi, and Beth stood out in the drizzle talking to Sarah and Isaac as though it were a midsummer afternoon. “Thanks for the ride,” she squeaked, her voice suddenly gone. Jumping out of the truck, moisture filled her eyes as Rachel ran toward three of her favorite people on God’s green earth. By the time she reached her family, tears streamed down her face—tears of joy.

&n
bsp; Donna tried not to think too much about what lay ahead of her that morning. Her husband and her two daughters had finally stopped asking questions during breakfast and while they all dressed. She had no answers, only plenty of questions of her own. She had invited Pete, Amber, and Kristen to accompany her today for moral support. Now she wasn’t so sure that had been a good idea. When a woman could potentially make a total fool of herself and be run out of town on the proverbial rail, did she really want an audience? But having three more friendly faces in the Old Order Mennonite Church would bring the total to five, counting Rachel King and Sarah Stoll.

  Donna had also invited Phil to attend so that he might see what she was up against. But he’d politely declined, citing a previous commitment. Sleeping until noon under a layer of warm blankets didn’t constitute a previous commitment in her opinion, but forcing a person to attend church seldom worked.

  Isaac Stoll would be there too, but whose side he would be on remained to be seen. The Lancaster bishop and Rachel’s grandmother had recently arrived from Pennsylvania and were also unknown variables at this point. They could either help make her case for vaccines or seal her fate in Charm’s Amish and Mennonite communities. Either way, as Pete turned their SUV into the parking area—filled almost entirely with buggies—Donna knew the showdown between the Kentucky State Department of Health and the Plain believers of Casey County had arrived.

  Rachel and Sarah were waiting on the front stoop as Donna and her family approached. Kristen and Amber glanced around, wide eyed with fascination, but at least they were smiling. Anything different from the same old, same old was fine with them. Pete, true to form, greeted the occasion with his usual confidence. He loved to say, “If it ain’t the end of the world, there’s nothing to worry about. And if it is the end of the world, but you know the Lord, you have nothing to worry about.”

  Donna agreed with him in theory, but she possessed far less peace of mind. “Good morning, Rachel, Sarah,” she said as they climbed the steps. “You know Amber and Kristen, and this is my husband, Pete.”

  “Hi,” greeted Rachel. “Good to see you again.” She grinned at the two teenagers. “And this is my grandmother, Edna King, and my hometown bishop, Abraham Esh.” As though they were the next contestants on a television game show, two elderly Amish people appeared in the doorway on cue.

  “I was just staying out of the wind until you got here,” said Edna. “How do?” The woman shook Donna’s hand as though it were a pump handle, demonstrating far more strength than most women her age.

  “I’m fine, thank you. This is Pete Cline.” Donna pointed at her better half. Pete nodded and then stretched out his dry, chapped fingers.

  “How do?” repeated the grandmother, giving Pete’s arm a good workout too.

  “Good morning. A blessed Lord’s Day to you all.” The black-clad preacher spoke in a gracious tone. “Let’s go inside. The service is about to start. Mr. Cline, I’ll show you where to sit. You ladies and young women should follow Sarah.”

  Within minutes, Sarah, Rachel, Edna, and Donna were seated in the front row on the left. Pete sat equally ringside between the Lancaster bishop and Isaac Stoll.

  “Preaching first, and then you and Abraham will get your chance to talk.” Sarah provided the only advance explanation Donna would receive.

  James Mast, Sarah’s bishop, conducted a lovely Christian service that probably would have been more recognizable in English. Prayers were silent, but the bishop gave specific requests of what to pray for. Hymns were sung out of key without musical accompaniment, and all Scripture was read in German, but Donna sensed the presence of God in the room.

  Bishop Mast delivered the first sermon in Deutsch, and then a younger minister delivered the second message in English. Kristen and Amber, who had been seated with Mennonite teenaged girls, appeared mesmerized by the proceedings, even though they could only comprehend around half of the service. Once it was ended, the bishop cleared his throat to regain the congregation’s attention. “Today we welcome guests into our midst. The Englischers are Donna Cline, a nurse and social worker for the State Department of Health, along with her husband and daughters: Pete, Kristen, and Amber.”

  Murmurs of welcome filled the room, the loudest coming from the youthful corner.

  “Visiting from Lancaster County is Sarah Stoll’s grossmammi, along with her cousin, Beth King, who is also Rachel King’s schwester. Edna King brought her bishop, Abraham Esh, who wishes to address our district. First we will hear from Mrs. Cline.” Bishop Mast took his seat on the right-hand side.

  Donna heard indistinguishable whispers as she walked to the front of the room. She chose to get right to the point—Plain people deserved plain speeches. “Thank you, Bishop Mast, for allowing me to address your district. As you know a total of four polio infections have been discovered here in Charm. I wish to thank everyone for their cooperation with our sample testing. Blessedly, no new cases have turned up, and none of the four children have developed paralytic polio as of yet.” She paused so that her words could be absorbed. “Unfortunately, the little girl remains hospitalized and her infection might develop into a paralytic form down the road. I obtained her parents’ consent to disclose this information.” Scanning the congregation, most watched her without any expression whatsoever. “I have listened to your concerns these past weeks and then did my own research. We’ll probably never know for certain how the little girl contracted a virus that hasn’t been in the United States for years. Somebody who had been out of the country, perhaps even a doctor or nurse, might have exposed her.”

  Murmurs rose throughout the room, many of them agitated.

  “Although I’m not Plain, I can imagine what you’re thinking—that this is what we get for associating with Englischers and for trusting modern medical facilities. And I can’t disagree with that initial reaction.” Several formerly benign faces turned astonished. “Unfortunately, the Plain communities of America can no longer remain completely separate from the world. Too many people travel to foreign lands, including humanitarian workers to Haiti, Africa, and India. We, both English and Mennonite, go to help our fellow man in need as Scripture dictates, and to spread the Good News about our Lord. Even if no one from Charm travels abroad, foreigners come to Kentucky on vacation or to work or to relocate. They could bring with them a virus that might not make them sick but could easily infect a community such as this.

  “You no longer have the luxury of keeping your children safe by keeping them removed. They will interact with strangers in restaurants, libraries, and bus stations throughout their lives, in addition to the English medical system should they need stitches or an X-ray. Vaccines are the only way to protect their health. Mrs. King remembers when the Pennsylvania Board of Health came to Lancaster County back in nineteen seventy-nine after a polio outbreak in the Netherlands, which had already spread to Canada. About one-third of the residents were inoculated back then, most of them children. Health care workers set up clinics in more than one hundred districts in barns and outbuildings. Bishop Esh has traveled from Mount Joy at Rachel King’s request to answer questions you might have about the procedure. He also remembers the board of health’s visit clearly and doesn’t recall a single parent regretting their decision due to side effects or some adverse reaction.”

  Pausing again as chatter increased, she let the congregation talk a minute and then raised her hand for silence. “In the end, the decision is yours—each mother’s and father’s. Some English parents refuse shots for their kids for their own reasons. No one will try to force you into something you feel strongly against, but after you listen to Bishop Esh, if you decide to get your family immunized, there are papers on the back table. They explain where to go, how to prepare, and what you can expect, and have my personal cell phone number and address as well. Take a paper home and give the matter some thought and prayer, as I have done. Thank you for listening. God bless you on this lovely winter morning.”

  Edna King and Bishop Esh
walked to the front as Donna sat down, relieved and proud of herself. She had done her best. Even Rachel’s and Sarah’s grossmammi had a few words to say on the subject. This, as with all matters, was now in God’s hands. Glancing over the men’s side of the room, she spotted her husband trying subtly for her attention.

  “Well done,” he mouthed. And if she hadn’t been sitting among those taught to control their emotions, she probably would have started to cry.

  Florida

  Jake gazed over an empty racetrack just as the sun broke the horizon to the east. Within the hour trainers and exercise boys, jockeys and owners, local and national news media, Thoroughbred devotees and sports enthusiasts would fill the track and grandstands, ready for another busy day in the winter racing circuit. The weather was warm and sunny, with a refreshing breeze from the west. His hotel was clean, comfortable, and reasonably priced. He’d enjoyed a breakfast of fake eggs, English muffins, fresh mixed fruit, and strong coffee, all complimentary. There had been plenty of warm water for his shower because he didn’t have to share the hot water tank with five other family members.

  Alan Hitchcock had greeted him graciously, surprised yet pleased he’d come down for the rest of training. The man had talked nonstop during dinner last night about Eager to Please’s latest times and distances. Alan told him about the procession of jockeys being considered to find the right match between professional rider and highly spirited colt. Hitchcock took Jake to a fine steakhouse, insisting the meal was his treat and wouldn’t appear on any expense account receipt. The restaurant served delicious Black Angus steaks covered with sautéed mushrooms and onions with a dollop of blue cheese sauce—just the way Jake liked it. His potato had been twice baked and served with cheddar cheese and sour cream. A Caesar salad opened the feast, while chocolate cake with hot fudge sauce had brought the memorable meal to a close.

 

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