Elijah fell out of Annie’s sight.
Twenty-Four
Annie flew around the truck. Elijah lay flat on his back, moaning.
“Don’t try to get up!”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Elijah gasped at the effort of speaking. “My chest. She really clobbered me.”
“How about your back? Can you feel everything you’re supposed to feel?”
“It all hurts, so I guess so. Is she still up there?”
Annie spun around and looked to the top of the gravel heap. Leah was on all fours looking down.
“Leah Deitwaller, you do the grown-up thing and get down here right this minute!”
To Annie’s shock and relief, Leah began a cautious climb down.
“Is he all right?” Leah asked. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“We’re going to need help. An ambulance.” Constraining the kitten with one hand, Annie dug with the other in the bag still hanging from her shoulder and extracted her cell phone. She flipped it open and turned it on. A dark screen glared back at her. “Battery’s dead. Elijah, did you bring a cell phone?”
He grunted. “Nope.”
Leah was on the ground now and knelt beside Elijah. “I’m sorry.”
Elijah closed his eyes. Annie’s heart lurched.
“No! You stay conscious!”
“The sun’s in my eyes, that’s all.”
Annie positioned herself between the sun and Elijah. “Leah, one of us has to go for help.”
“You should be the one to go.”
Annie was not sure which she dreaded more, the thought that if she left, Leah would bolt and abandon Elijah, or the thought that Leah might bolt with the buggy and abandon her along with Elijah.
“Annalise,” Elijah said, “can I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“How many times have you handled a horse and buggy?”
“Twice.”
“By yourself?”
She cleared her throat. “Never.”
“Then Leah has to go.”
Annie met the girl’s eyes.
“Okay,” Leah said, “but you have to let me take the kitten.”
“Do you think she’ll actually get help?” Annie sat in the dirt beside Elijah as Leah turned the buggy around and headed toward town.
“Do you think she will actually bring my horse and buggy back?”
“I’m sorry, Elijah.” Annie wriggled out of her sweater and spread it across his chest. “I dragged you into this, and now you’re hurt and worried about your rig.”
“I’m not worried about my buggy. Gottes wille.”
Annie pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, and propped her chin on top of the mountain they made. “I haven’t quite learned to say that as freely as I ought to.”
“First you have to believe it.” Elijah started to lift an arm.
“Don’t do that!” Annie put a hand on his wrist.
“I really think I’m fine. I’ll be sore and I have a headache, but that doesn’t seem so terrible. Considering.”
“Considering you were kicked in the chest, fell off a gravel truck, and landed flat on your back?”
“Ya, that. But I landed on earth, not concrete.”
“You could have a concussion. Broken ribs. Or your spinal cord—”
“I’m grateful to have such cheerful, optimistic company.”
Annie clamped her lips shut.
“If you’ll scratch the left side of my nose, I promise I won’t try to get up.”
“That bargain is more than fair.” Annie used two fingers to thoroughly scratch the side of his long, narrow nose then pushed his brown hair away from his eyes.
“Thank you. That’s better.”
“Does your chest hurt? It looked like she kicked you right in the heart.” Annie noticed that his chest did not lift high with his breaths.
Annalise reached for his wrist and put two fingers down in search of his pulse.
“Don’t worry. It’s still beating.”
“You’re taking this whole thing too lightly.”
“I would shrug if you would let me.”
“You will do nothing of the sort.”
“Mrs. Stutzman will be in a tizzy by now.”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Stutzman. The beautiful coffee cake the girls were going to serve you straight out of the oven—coincidentally—will be ruined.”
“They’re not so bad. You’re just sensitive because Beth had her eye on Rufus. He set her straight weeks ago. You know that.”
Annie picked up a pebble and tossed it several yards. “I know. But they don’t seem your type, either.”
“You know there’s only one woman I want.”
She did know. “Are you really going to leave?”
“Yes, I believe so. I cannot stay and be a hypocrite for the next sixty years.”
“What if leaving doesn’t change anything with Ruth?”
“I hope it will, but either way I have to go.”
“Don’t you believe? In what I just promised to believe and obey?”
“Are you trying to talk me into staying because you chose to join the church?”
“Of course not.” She crossed her arms atop her knees. “I know you would never make this kind of decision for someone else.”
“I tried that three years ago and it hasn’t worked out too well.” Elijah squinted at the sun. “I wish I had my hat right now, though. I left it in the buggy.”
Annie readjusted her position once again to shade his face.
“If I get my horse and buggy back, I’m going to sell it.”
“Really?”
“I’m going to buy a van. Tom has been teaching me to drive. He’ll take me for my test.”
“He’s going to want you to be quite sure.”
“I’m sure. You and Rufus are going to need a buggy once you’re married. You won’t always live on the Beiler farm.”
“One step at a time.” Annie raised a hand to shade her eyes and stare down the road. “Why hasn’t someone at least come about this truck?”
Ruth stepped outside the grocery store and gratefully turned her face up to the sun. Late September at an elevation of eight thousand feet brought days gently sloping off the peaks of summer temperatures, but the sun comforted her nevertheless. She had walked down Main Street to the store, careful not to buy more items than she could comfortably carry the blocks back to Annalise’s house. Growing up in the Amish community in Pennsylvania, Ruth rarely stepped inside a grocery store. Her family had their own milk, eggs, and vegetables, and the large church district included families of all trades. Anyone who wanted to avoid the English completely could do so for months at a time. Now here she was carrying two canvas bags of groceries so she could feel she was making some contribution while she stayed with Annalise.
Just as she was about to turn off onto the narrow street where Annalise’s house occupied the middle of the block, a horse trotted toward her on Main Street—at a speed that lacked caution.
Elijah’s horse pulled his buggy—Ruth had spent enough time in that buggy to recognize it anywhere, as much as it looked like so many others—but Elijah was not on the bench.
The driver reined in the horse and stared down at Ruth.
“Leah?”
“I remember you from the day I went to church.” The girl on the bench pointed. “You’re Ruth Beiler. You were the only one there not wearing the clothes of our people.”
Remembering what Annie had told her about Leah Deitwaller, Ruth took care with her tone. “It’s good to run into you, Leah. I see you have Elijah’s buggy.”
“He needs help. Is it true you’re a nurse?”
Ruth’s heart pushed against her chest. “I’m training to be a nurse. What happened?”
Leah licked her lips and swallowed hard.
“Leah, I want to help if I can. I need to know what happened.”
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“Ye
s.”
“Call 911.”
Ruth set down the groceries on the sidewalk and yanked her phone out of the pocket of her blue scrubs shirt. “They’ll want to know what happened, Leah.”
“Elijah fell. Annalise says he needs an ambulance.”
“Where is he?” Ruth did her best to focus while Leah described the location of the gravel truck.
As soon as she called 911 with the scant information she had, Ruth picked up her groceries and set them on the floor of the buggy.
“Do you know where Annalise’s house is?”
Leah nodded.
“I’m going to run there and get my car. I would appreciate it if you could take these groceries. And you could wait there if you like. The back door is open.”
Ruth spun and ran. Her car was in the driveway, unlocked, and she was in it and backing onto the street before Leah had fully negotiated the turn onto Annalise’s street. Ruth had no idea whether Leah would take the groceries to the house, or whether she would stay there if she did. It might please Annalise to find her there, but if this thoughtless, headstrong girl had anything to do with how Elijah got hurt, Ruth was not as certain of her own grace. She accelerated past Elijah’s buggy onto Main Street and barreled toward the main highway.
At least Annalise was with Elijah. Ruth forced herself to slow the car’s speed in order to look for the old county road the Stutzmans routinely used to reach their farm. A twelve-ton gravel truck could not be that hard to find, and if Leah was telling the truth, Elijah would be sprawled on his back beside it.
Ruth saw Annalise spring to her feet before she discerned Elijah’s black-and-white-clad form on the ground. She swung the car off the road and screeched to a halt.
“How did you know to come?” Annalise moved out of the way as Ruth knelt and put her ear to Elijah’s chest.
Ruth put two fingers on his neck, looking for his pulse. This would be the last time she ever traveled without at least a stethoscope in her car.
“Leah found me walking home with groceries. I called for an ambulance. They should be here any minute.”
“I keep telling Annalise I don’t need an ambulance.”
Elijah weakly nudged Ruth’s hand away from his neck.
Annalise’s protest was swift. “You promised not to move.”
A siren wailed. “Too late,” Ruth said. “It’s just about here.”
Annalise scrambled closer to the road and began to wave her arms.
“I’m glad you came first,” Elijah whispered.
“Did Leah do this to you?” Ruth hated the tone in her own voice, but she could not help it.
“Maybe we’ll talk about that later.”
Ruth put the back of her hand against his cheek, telling herself it was to judge his temperature but knowing that something more than fledgling professional instincts guided her movement.
“I hate the thought that you might be seriously hurt,” she said.
He gave her an impish smile. “I love that you hate it. I love you.”
She was so relieved he was conscious, talking, smiling, trying to move. “The paramedics will be able to give you a thorough going over, but I can almost guarantee they will take you in. Protocol. They are not going to come all the way out here and then leave because you say you don’t need them.”
“I do admit to having the wind knocked out of me.”
A fire engine and an ambulance rolled into the meadow. Bryan Nichols stepped out of the ambulance.
Annie stood back out of the way and watched. She noticed that Ruth had moved only a few inches, crouching next to Elijah’s head and leaving a hand on his shoulder while she spoke softly with Bryan as he examined Elijah. Two other responders pulled a gurney out of the back of the vehicle, rolled it across the ragged ground, and lowered it on the other side of Elijah. Ruth and the EMTs formed a wall around Elijah, and Annie could see next to nothing of what they were doing.
When Ruth pointed to her and Bryan looked over his shoulder, Annie knew she was going to have to give some account of what happened. There could only be one account. Elijah was trying to get Leah Deitwaller down off the heap of gravel, she kicked him in the chest, and he landed on his back. That was what she told Bryan a few seconds later.
“You did the right thing to keep him still and talking.” Bryan jotted notes on a form on his clipboard. “He said essentially the same thing you did, so there doesn’t seem to be any cognitive alteration. We’ll immobilize him for transport.”
“Will you take him to the clinic in town?”
Bryan shook his head. “Cañon City. The ortho doc on call at the hospital there will make sure his spine did not suffer any trauma and decide about treatment.”
Ruth approached them. “I’m going with him. He needs somebody with him.”
Bryan wriggled his fingers in a neutral gesture. “There’s room in the back.”
“What about your car?” Annie asked.
“I’ll come back for it. Would you lock it for me, please?”
Annie walked over to the blue Prius that had belonged to her until a few months ago, opened the driver’s door, and snapped the master lock button.
“The other rig is going back to town if you want a ride.” Bryan pointed with a thumb.
“Thanks. I’ll see if someone knows how to get hold of his parents.”
“Good idea.”
Annie paced back to Ruth and drew her into a hug. “He’s going to be okay.”
Ruth nodded against Annie’s shoulder. “It’s just the thought that maybe he won’t be. I can’t leave him.”
“You shouldn’t.” Beneath her hands on Ruth’s back, Annie felt her friend tremble.
They stood side by side while the EMTs slid the gurney into the ambulance. Bryan waited for Ruth with his hand on the open door.
Twenty-Five
June 1892
Sheriff Abraham Byler stood up from behind his desk in the Mountain Home jailhouse at the trampling sound of a horse’s hooves overlaid with the creak and rattle of the wagon the beast pulled. He was outside the small structure by the time Deputy Combs reined in the animal. Three young men hung their sheepish heads. A.G. knew them all by name—and their daddies, too.
The deputy slung down from the wagon bench. “These are the boys who were out shooting—except Jesse Roper. He threatened me with a pistol.” He jabbed his finger at the men in the wagon. “They’re all witnesses. You can get their statements.”
A.G. sighed. Jesse Roper had hardly been in town four days and already was a steady aggravation.
“Boys, you tell the sheriff,” Combs said.
“What will happen to us if we do?” Digger asked. “All we did is a little friendly can shooting.”
“Which you know good and well you were not supposed to do,” A.G. said.
“Let’s arrest these boys.” Combs signaled that they should get out of the wagon.
“I think Roper is our real trouble,” A.G. said.
“That’s right!” Digger heaved himself over the side of the wagon on one arm. “He’s the troublemaker.”
A.G. shook his head. “I reckon he is. But that does not take you off the hook. One at a time, you tell me what you saw when Deputy Combs went to collect you.” He pointed at Digger.
He listened carefully to three rapid accounts and then turned to his deputy. “What else do you want to add, Thomas?”
Deputy Combs held up his hand and opened his thumb and forefinger about three inches. “That pistol was this far from my face. It’s a clear violation of the law to threaten an officer with a weapon.”
“I know the law,” A.G. said. He was not going to make it home while Bess’s chicken was still hot tonight. “We’re going to have to go talk to him.”
“We weren’t the only witnesses,” Digger said. “One of those Amish men was there.”
A.G. pressed his lips to one side. “Mmm.”
“I didn’t see him.” Deputy Combs put both hands on his hips. “You have a lot of gall
to involve an innocent man in this.”
Digger pointed up. “In the maple tree outside my family’s house. Must have followed from the clearing. He was there, too.”
A.G. looked at the other two men. “Did either of you see him at the house?”
They shook their heads.
“I saw him!” Digger insisted. “He just about fell out of that tree when Jesse Roper waved that pistol in the deputy’s face. Wish he had. Then y’all would believe me.”
A.G. raised a thumb to the small jail behind him. “You three go in there and behave yourselves. I’d better find you sitting right where I left you when I get back.”
“Yes, sir,” they all muttered as they filed in.
A.G. pulled the door shut after them and turned to the deputy. “I’ll look for the Amish man and get his story. My gut tells me we’re going to need a posse to take out to the Twigg ranch. You see who is available. Try to keep Mooney out of it. And none of these boys’ daddies.”
They tossed some names back and forth, and Combs unhitched his horse from the wagon and saddled it.
A.G. took a deep breath and exhaled. “I will see you in one hour on the road off the Twigg ranch. Stay off their property until I get there.”
Joseph splashed water from the barrel inside the stables on his face and neck and rubbed. Then he used a dipper to pour some over the top of his bare head.
“No letter?” he said, when he opened his eyes and saw Zeke’s boots in the hay next to him.
“No letter.”
“So we wait.” Joseph toweled his face dry and ran his hands through his hair. He opened a small leather bag and considered his razor with one hand, while running the other over his three-day beard. If he did not shave soon, people would start to think he had married.
He corrected himself. The English would draw no such conclusion. In Gassville a man’s beard meant nothing about his marital status.
“We still have to muck,” Zeke said. “You’ll only have to clean up again.”
Joseph did not want to explain the tree sap stuck to his face and hair on the side of his head. “I was hot.”
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