“Did you recognize it?” Jimmy asked. “Or the driver?”
Mim shook her head, tears spilling. “I can’t remember the car at all. It happened too fast. All I could think about was Chase, lying there on the ground.” She put her face in her hands. “I should have been watching him more carefully.”
“It’s not your fault, Mim,” Jimmy said. “These things happen.”
“But Mim—”
“Bethany, not now,” Jimmy said sharply. “Hop in.” He helped Mim and Bethany into the buggy, then climbed in and drove them back to the house. He took the dog out, and Chase drooped in his arms, which started Mim sobbing all over again. “Bethany, where’s a shovel?”
“I’ll get it.” Bethany went to the barn and brought back a shovel. She would not cry. She would not.
Sammy and Luke bolted out of the house, Geena following behind. When they saw Chase in Jimmy’s arms, they stopped abruptly on the porch stairs. It was Luke who pierced Bethany’s heart. Understanding settled over him first, she saw his face go utterly stoic—a strange look on an eleven-year-old boy. His head was up and slightly tilted, his gaze focused on Jimmy, and something about him seemed like their father in every way.
“What’s wrong?” Sammy said, his forehead puckered with worry, his eyes too wide and bright. “What’s wrong with Chase?”
“He’s dead,” Luke said coldly. Sammy burst into sobs. His whole heart shone on his face.
Tears prickled Bethany’s eyes and she bit her lower lip to hold them back. Not now. Not now.
Geena joined them as they walked to the hill beside the house. Mim said Chase loved to sit on that hill and watch the sheep in their pen, so Jimmy chose a beautiful tree with a large canopy and started to dig. He laid Chase gently, ever so gently, in the hole, then put a big handful of dirt in the boys’ hands. Geena said a few reassuring words about what a good dog Chase was and sang a hymn that no one else recognized, but they liked it. Then they dropped their dirt on the little grave, and made a great ceremony of filling it and piling rocks. By the time the funeral was over, the afternoon was nearly past.
Geena and Mim walked down the hill with Jimmy and Bethany and the boys trailing behind. “I don’t know how I’ll tell Rose,” Bethany said, about halfway down the hill. “She adored Chase.”
Luke spun around and glared at Bethany. “It’s your fault!”
She stared at him, trying to understand him. “That’s not true, Luke. It’s not true and it’s not fair.”
“With Mom gone, you were supposed to take care of us!”
“Wait a minute!”
Luke’s eyes flashed, and he started to protest, but Bethany wouldn’t let him interrupt. He shook his head as she came up to him.
“Listen to me,” she said. “This was just a terrible accident. It was no one’s fault.”
“It’s your fault!” Luke shouted as he lifted his face. Angry tears filled his eyes. “You should have been watching out for him. You should have stopped this!”
“Luke, I—”
He didn’t wait for her answer. He lurched around and ran back up the hill, disappearing over the ridge.
Bethany worried so about Luke. She knew he was edging up to manhood, his heart sore and lonely with grieving for their father. He’d taken to doing and saying things he’d never have dared to try to get away with when their father was alive. She started to follow, but Jimmy grabbed her arm.
“Let him go. It wasn’t your fault.”
A wave of guilt crashed over Bethany. She was sinking beneath it. “Luke’s right. If I’d been paying attention . . .”
“Don’t think like that. It wasn’t your fault, understand?” He turned her so she had to look at him. “Bethany, did you happen to see that pickup truck that hit Chase?”
“No. I was in the newsp—I was in a store.” She looked up. “You must have, though, if you knew it was a pickup truck.”
“I can’t be sure . . . and I only saw it once before, at twilight. Months ago. It was at Windmill Farm, at Hank Lapp’s birthday party.”
Bethany stilled. Oh please, no.
“It looked like the same black pickup that Jake Hertzler drove.”
Another warning from Jake.
Later that night, Bethany tiptoed into Luke’s room and sat on his bed. She rubbed his shoulders to soften the ache she knew was there, and to comfort him. “I’m sorry about Chase, Luke. So very sorry.”
Luke wiped his eyes with his pajama sleeve. “There’ll never be another dog like Chase.”
“No. Chase will always be special. But there will be another dog to love. Chase wouldn’t want you to stop loving another dog just because you loved him so much. He’d want you to honor his memory by loving again. We’ll find you a special dog.”
“Chase came to us. We didn’t go to him. That’s the way it is with the best dogs. They find you.”
“Then we’ll be waiting.”
They stayed like that a long time, just listening to Pennsylvania night sounds through the open window—the soft hoot of a great horned owl and the harsh squawk of a Northern Mockingbird and, now and then, the steady clip-clop of a horse pulling a buggy—each of which had their own way of giving comfort.
18
After the long sick worry of a week, Bethany helped Naomi sew a binding on a quilt top on Friday evening and found it strangely calming. As soon as they finished, Naomi wanted to drop it off at the Sisters’ House so it could be wrapped and taken to a fundraising auction in the morning. A full moon cast eerie shadows all around Bethany and Naomi as they drove home from the Sisters’ House in the buggy.
The more time Bethany spent around the sisters, the more amazed she was at their quiet and purposeful lives. Now she understood why their house was a mess—they had better things to do with their time than clean and tidy and iron and dust. And they didn’t just talk about doing things—they did them. They even cared for Bethany’s own mother.
She still didn’t know the story behind that, but she was taking Geena’s advice to sit on it and pray about it. Geena said she would know when the time was right, but so far, nothing. She hoped Geena was right. This praying and expecting and waiting for an answer to come was new to her. She would prefer a burning bush.
“I’m glad for the chill in the air,” Naomi said as Bethany turned the horse down the road. Bethany stopped and looked both ways when they reached the intersection, although she knew there wasn’t a car in sight. She tugged the horse’s reins and murmured, “Tch, tch,” to urge him forward.
All of a sudden, Naomi grabbed her arm. “Look out, Bethany!”
She pulled back on the horse and slammed on the buggy brake, stopping no more than a yard in front of something lying across the road. If Naomi hadn’t spotted it in time, the horse would have tried to jump it and the buggy could have been wrecked. “Shootfire! That was close. What’s in the road?”
“I don’t know.”
They got out of the buggy together and walked to a large tree limb that was lying crossways in the road. “How in the world did that get there?” Bethany looked up. “There aren’t any big trees hanging overhead.”
“Maybe it fell off a truck,” Naomi said. Bethany leaned down to pick up one end of the tree limb and was about to ask Naomi if she would pick up the other when Naomi said, “Something’s not right here. Quick, Bethany. Get back in the buggy. We can go back down the way we came.”
“Why? That’ll take a lot longer to get home.”
“I can’t explain it. I’m just getting a funny feeling.”
“I thought you only got those when you had a headache.”
“Hurry! We need to get out of here!”
She straightened up to see what Naomi was so anxious about, and just as she did, a man emerged out of the cornfield. She opened her mouth to ask for his help, but before she could utter a word, it dawned on her that tree limb wasn’t there by accident. The man came toward her, slow and deliberate, and stopped just as he reached the buggy headlight. He to
ok a step closer, moving across the beam of the headlight off the buggy, and she saw who it was.
Jake Hertzler.
He walked right up to her and smiled, but his eyes showed no warmth, only a cold, hard gaze. “Hello, Bethany.”
She stood like a statue, frozen to the spot.
“Bethany, who is he?” Naomi asked in a trembling voice.
“I’m Bethany’s boyfriend, Jake Hertzler. Bethany, honey, I’ve come for you.” Jake’s voice was soft and charming, like always, and there was the faint scent of Old Spice aftershave lotion, like always, but he didn’t look the same and he didn’t act the same. He had a strange look on his face that scared her. Something had changed, something essential, deep down. Even then, Bethany thought it was odd that she’d noticed such a thing.
“What is it you want, Jake?” Bethany practically spit the words. “You killed Chase. You ruined the gardens. What more can you take from my family?”
Jake sneered and his eyes narrowed slightly in the way of a man studying a mildly perturbing question. “I need to talk to Tobe and I think it’s best if you’re with me.”
“She doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Naomi said boldly. “Nobody does.”
Jake waved his hand at Naomi, as if he were brushing away a pesky fly. He kept his eyes on Bethany.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Bethany snapped. “You keep away from me!”
He gave her a slow look over, up and down, in a way that made her feel filthy.
“Don’t you touch me,” she said, teeth chattering. She didn’t want him to see how cold she was. She was shaking with it, she was feeling so cold. She took a step back.
Jake lunged toward her and grabbed her wrist. “You know you don’t mean that. You know you belong to me.”
She tried to yank her hand away, but he slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, then hit her again with his palm. She tried to get away, but he held on to her wrist tight as a trap.
By now Jake’s cool exterior had vanished; he was seething. She looked into that face, into eyes that were relentless, ruthless.
“What’s the matter, Bethany? Aren’t I good enough for you anymore?” Jake put his hand on her throat and moved it down over her body. She began to shake all over even while she was trying so hard to be brave.
“Leave her be, Hertzler.” A voice spoke out calm and clear in the dark.
Jake stilled.
“Hertzler, I told you to leave her alone,” the voice said a little louder. In the beam of the buggy headlight stood Rusty.
Jake dropped Bethany’s wrist as if it were a hot potato and spun around. Bethany’s legs gave out and she fell into the dirt. Naomi ran to her side.
“Run along, kid,” Jake said. “You’ve been paid for your work.”
“You can keep your money,” Rusty replied in the same calm voice and pulled out a handful of crumpled bills from the pocket of her jeans. She threw them at Jake’s feet. “Leave the women alone.” Bethany realized she had never heard Rusty’s voice before. She spoke as quietly as a person in a library. “They won’t fight you, being Amish, but I will.”
Jake laughed at Rusty, sizing her up and dismissing her. He turned back to Bethany and grabbed her arm. “Get up. You and me are going for a ride.”
Rusty pulled the buggy whip from its socket and whipped it, like a flash, against the back of Jake’s hand so that he released Bethany. “I told you to leave her alone.”
Jake gripped his stung hand. Then he swung at Rusty, but before he could land a single punch, she kicked him in his privates. He bellowed out with pain and she kicked him again so that he dropped his hands to the front of his pants and doubled over. Rusty pulled something out of her back pocket and held it up high, in front of her, so Jake would see it in the beam of the buggy headlight. In her hand was a six-inch knife. It looked familiar, like the knives that belonged to the Grange Hall kitchen.
“Now, why don’t you just get along back to that rock you live under,” she said, still in that calm, quiet voice.
Strangely authoritative, Bethany realized, and wondered why her mind was working though her body wouldn’t budge.
Jake turned to run and Rusty kicked him in the small of this back. He made a whoomp sound and limped off into the dark.
Rusty watched, making sure he was gone for good, before she turned to Bethany, her breath coming as easy as if she’d been out for a walk. “You all right?”
“Where did you come from?” Bethany’s voice was high and shaky, and she cleared her throat.
“Just heading back to the Group Home.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Rusty nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. “I’ll move that tree limb out of the road. Then I’ll be getting on.”
“No!” Naomi cried. “What if he comes back?” She was as pale as a ghost.
Rusty hoisted the tree limb and shoved it to the side of the road like it was a feather pillow. “I don’t think so. Not tonight, anyway. He’ll be hurting for a while.”
“I can’t drive the buggy,” Bethany said. “My hands are shaking too much.” Naomi was trembling even more.
“I’ll drive you,” Rusty said. She hopped right into the driver’s side of the buggy. Naomi helped Bethany in, then got in and sat in the backseat. Bethany wanted to know more about Rusty, to ask how she happened to be right there when they needed her, how she knew Jake, why she was willing to fight him off. And how did she know how to drive a buggy? But Bethany’s cheek was smarting where Jake had hit her and her teeth kept chattering and she wasn’t sure she could get the words out in any order that made any sense. Rusty didn’t volunteer any information—she just drove the buggy down the road like she’d been doing it most of her life.
When Rusty pulled up to Naomi’s house, Jimmy came out of the front door. “Galen was just wondering where you were, Naomi.” He stopped short as he realized there were three in the buggy. “What’s happened?”
From the backseat, Naomi poked her head out the buggy window. “Bethany needs help.”
Jimmy jumped the porch rail, landing near the buggy.
“We just had a scare, that’s all,” Bethany said.
“The scare of our life,” Naomi added.
Jimmy yanked open the buggy door, and Bethany slid out and fell into his arms.
“Let’s get her inside,” Naomi said, hurrying to climb down from the buggy.
Jimmy wrapped his arm around Bethany and helped her up to the house. Her legs still felt shaky—she couldn’t have walked to the house without his help. They reached the porch steps before she remembered Rusty and turned back to the buggy.
“Rusty!” she called, but there was no answer in the darkness.
Galen opened the door. “I’ll put the horse and buggy away . . . ,” he started to say, then stopped when he saw the bruise on Bethany’s face. “Do you want me to get a doctor?” he asked.
“No,” Bethany said.
Jimmy set her in a chair as Galen grabbed a sweater hanging on the wall and wrapped it around her.
“I’ll get a cold rag for your face,” Galen said.
“I’ll start some tea,” Naomi said, her voice sounding stronger. “Tea always helps everyone calm down.” She filled the teakettle with water and put it on the stove to boil.
Jimmy knelt down in front of Bethany. “Are you all right?”
Bethany nodded, her eyes on her lap, where her hands twitched.
“Look at me, Bethany,” Jimmy said.
She raised her head as slowly as she could, glancing at him, then turning to the stove where the teakettle was starting to sputter.
He covered her hands with his. They were so warm and she was so cold. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” she said in a squeaky voice. “He didn’t . . . he tried to make me go with him . . .”
“Who?”
Bethany kept her eyes on her hands that were tucked under Jimmy’s. She took too long to answer, so
Naomi spoke up. “Jake. Jake Hertzler.”
“Oh no . . .” Jimmy grabbed Bethany out of her chair and hugged her so hard she could hardly breathe.
“I’m all right, Jimmy. Truly I am.”
The teakettle started to whistle, so Naomi filled a teapot with hot water, then dipped four teabags into it. The cinnamon scent of the tea filled the air, calming Bethany’s racing heart. Galen brought a cold rag and she held it up against her cheek to keep the swelling down. Every few minutes, without saying anything, he took the rag and refolded it so it would be cool, then put it back against her face.
Naomi set the teapot and four mugs on the kitchen table, then sat at the kitchen table and poured tea for everyone. Bethany looked up and saw Naomi gazing at her with concern, handing her a mug of hot tea, and she felt so lucky to have such good friends that tears came to her eyes.
As Naomi’s nerves settled, she was able to start at the beginning. Bethany filled in parts she missed, so that soon Galen and Jimmy heard every detail, including the rescue by Rusty.
When the girls had finished, Jimmy hit the table with his fist. “I’m going after him!”
“No!” Naomi said. “No. You can’t catch him. You shouldn’t even try.”
“Naomi’s right,” Galen said, “but we should call that SEC lawyer. He needs to hear—”
“No,” Naomi said firmly. “We should let God alone deal with this.”
Bethany looked at Naomi. “What else did you see tonight?”
Hesitating, Naomi kept her eyes fixed on her tea mug. “Jake Hertzler cast two shadows. I saw it in the moonlight, plain as day.”
A chill traveled down Bethany’s spine. Jimmy and Galen exchanged a look.
Naomi’s hands were wrapped tightly around the mug. “That man is possessed.”
Early Saturday morning, Jimmy arrived at Galen’s to start work. Galen was in front of the barn, waiting for him, a tight, serious look on his face.
The Calling Page 21