by Mary Ellis
“Then perhaps you will enlighten me,” said Jonas with his signature composure.
She explained to him about the Centralia gas explosion, including every detail of the disaster she could remember. “Can you imagine if the pilot light on our propane hot water tank or stove suddenly shot flames like a blowtorch?”
“I cannot.” He rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand. “But it sounds to me as though the Lord showed mercy that day. All those houses exploding and burning down and, thankfully, no one died? God is good.”
Emily certainly agreed, but her story didn’t have the effect she intended. Next she repeated the heinous saga of Bloody Bill Anderson’s activities during the Civil War. She hadn’t yet reached the despicable way his dead body had been treated when Jonas raised his hand.
“Enough, Emily. Don’t allow those images to fester in your mind. They’ll serve no purpose other than to disturb your sleep with bad nightmares. War brings out the worst in human behavior. It has corrupted many Christian lives throughout the ages. Look no further than the Crusades. Let us pray mankind will lose his taste for war.” Jonas craned his neck out the window to follow the flight of a red-tailed hawk on warm air currents. In no way did his heart seem as burdened by Solomon’s sermon as hers.
“So you don’t think the plague of locusts was a sign from God? Are you one of those who’ll scoff and say it’s simply Mother Nature acting up?”
He remained silent for a moment. When he replied he appeared to be struggling to keep his voice even. “There is no ‘Mother Nature.’ All nature is the handiwork of the Lord, but I don’t believe all disasters are punishments due to His dissatisfaction with us. He created the earth and then left it in our control. He gave us free will to make decisions, and unfortunately man has not always chosen wisely. We have squandered our resources and polluted His majestic creation beyond repair, according to some Englischers. We’ve driven thousands of species of life to extinction with our greed and carelessness. That’s probably why the locust and certain bird populations are out of whack.”
Jonas pulled on the reins as they picked up speed downhill. “But Sol’s advice is sound. We should pray daily to be delivered from ourselves. These may well be the end-times prophesied in the book of Revelation—a book I cannot begin to fully understand.”
His stoic reserve was Emily’s undoing. She burst into tears. “How can you sit there so relaxed? I fear God’s judgment is upon us—you and me—because of my mean spirit.”
He covered her hand with his. “What are you talking about?”
“Our childlessness. The fact I can’t conceive. It’s due to my past sins.”
“What sins are those?” he asked. A hint of apprehension crept into his voice.
“I’m impatient with people who can’t make up their minds. After preaching, I sometimes sneak food in the kitchen instead of waiting for the men to eat first. Often my mind wanders during the bishop’s sermons to what I intend to pick from the garden or whose house we’ll go to after church.” Tears streamed down her face. “I secretly covet Nora’s slim figure and Violet’s ability to add sums in her head without paper and pencil. And I’ve been known to spread gossip more times than I care to admit. Once when—”
“Em, stop. You’re becoming hysterical. Wipe your face and blow your nose.” He handed her a handkerchief and waited until she composed herself before continuing. “You think these sins are why we haven’t been blessed with kinner?”
“I’m convinced of it.”
“Every Christian falls short of Jesus’ example. Unfortunately, it’s in our nature to sin since the Garden of Eden.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
“Of course not. We must confess and never stop trying to live a more righteous life. But if God only blessed sinless people with babies, I’m afraid the human race would have died out long ago with the other extinct species.”
Again his calm voice irritated her, yet she didn’t know exactly why. “I can’t take this matter as lightly like you can, Jonas. Solomon is right. This district has slipped into bad habits, including me. And until we take steps to change, horrible things will continue to happen in Paradise. And I will never know the joy of becoming a mother.” Emily crossed her arms and stared out the side window as her tears flowed again freely. She turned her back on her beloved ehemann. He was too lackadaisical about sin, too forgiving. She needed to heed the dire warnings raining down on them, literally and figuratively, before her child-bearing years were over.
Jonas had never been so happy to greet Monday morning in his life. Never had a Sunday afternoon and evening dragged on so interminably. After their discussion during the buggy ride home, Emily had turned moody and sullen. If he came to the front room with his newspaper, within a few minutes she took her book to the porch to read. Later, when he ventured onto the porch with his Bible to catch the evening breeze, she retreated like a scared rabbit back into the house.
Whatever she’d hoped he would say he hadn’t said.
Whatever solace she needed from him he hadn’t given.
But Jonas couldn’t agree with her conclusion that God was smiting the people of Missouri. This was not the God he knew. Why should Christians dwell in Old Testament stories of failed tests and subsequent judgments? Not when His Son came to earth expressly to show them how to live their lives. Jonas preferred to study the psalms, the proverbs, the miracles performed by the apostles, and, of course, the parables told by Jesus. Through His teachings, the way was clear. Difficult but clear. However, Jonas knew better than to argue with his strong-willed wife. Her heart would soften and the forgiveness she readily extended to others would eventually include her. Then she would realize that we need not question God’s motives, but wait patiently for life’s mysteries to unfold. Even so, Jonas was pleased to hear the crow of his brother’s rooster at dawn, granting him a temporary reprieve from Emily’s cool treatment.
During their ride to the lumberyard, Lewis kept him entertained with his enthusiastic assessment of Paradise. “Did you know, Jonas, that there are eleven sawmills in the area? Just imagine, eleven,” he repeated.
“I didn’t know that. I never counted them before.”
“And Nora and I drove by at least eight schoolhouses. You know who would make a great teacher? Violet Trask,” he answered, without waiting for Jonas’s guess. “She is very patient and funny—both good attributes for a teacher, don’t you agree? We passed several farms for sale too. Some with decent-looking houses that wouldn’t take much time or money to fix up.”
Jonas finally gave up trying to insert comments into the conversation. He enjoyed listening to the young man’s viewpoint on his hometown. After Lewis ran out of landmarks and interesting facts to expound upon, Jonas asked his one and only question: “Are you thinking of moving permanently to Missouri?”
Lewis lifted a boot heel to the wooden slats. “It’s too soon to say, but life holds plenty of twists and turns, no? I try not to plan too far in the future.”
“Sounds like good advice for everybody.” Jonas slapped him on the shoulder as they drove into the Gingerich parking lot. “You go inside so you don’t punch in late while I tend to the horse. If I’m late, nobody can fire me.”
Lewis hopped down and sprinted to the employee entrance. Jonas put his gelding into the back paddock, marveling at what a blessing the young man from Maine turned out to be. His good mood faded, however, the moment he walked into his office. Ken and Robert were waiting with grim expressions.
“Good grief, is something wrong all ready? It’s not even eight o’clock.” Jonas poured a cup of coffee from the small office pot.
Ken closed the door, signaling news other employees shouldn’t overhear. “Robert called me at home on Saturday night. You and I had already left before he made the discovery. I didn’t bother you yesterday because I thought it could wait until this morning. We couldn’t have done much on a Sunday anyway.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, while Robert looked equal
ly nervous from his position by the window.
Jonas lowered himself into his chair, hoping to ease the tension in the room. “We’re all here now. Why not get whatever is bothering you off your chest?” He took a long drink of strong black coffee.
Robert took over the narrative from the foreman. “I had paperwork to finish Saturday night before heading home because I’d been tied up training Lewis all day. I collected the cash and checks from the lumberyard register to tally for my nightly bank deposit. Then I went to get the receipts from the showroom cash drawer.” He paused to scratch his ear.
“Go on. Spit it out.” Jonas grew impatient as Robert danced around the news.
“Well, the checks were there, but no money whatsoever. And I know for a fact Lewis and I both made cash transactions while working the front counter.”
“What happened to them?” Jonas took another sip.
“I haven’t a clue. During the afternoon we closed the showroom register and set out the sign directing customers to use the outdoor checkouts. I needed to train Lewis on the computer in your office because the software is different than on the floor.”
“And you locked the showroom register?”
“Of course we did.” Robert scratched his ear again with more energy.
“You or Lewis?” asked Jonas, about to lose his patience.
“I told Lewis to. I’m sure he did. That kid is nothing if not thorough with details.” Robert pulled off his Gingerich Lumber ball cap—a gift for English customers who purchased more than fifty dollars’ worth of merchandise.
“The trouble is, boss, that nobody has a key to that cash drawer other than Robert, the new hire Lewis, and you,” Ken said. “I don’t even have a key. There’s no sense having too many floating around to get lost or stolen.”
Jonas noted the foreman’s emphasis on “new hire” as though new equated with untrustworthy. Yet Jonas also trusted Robert implicitly. The man had worked for Jonas since he’d opened the sawmill, using a lean-to for a store and office. So who does that leave? Jonas jumped to his feet. “All right. Call Lewis in here and let’s see what he has to say.”
Robert left the office for a few minutes. When he returned, Lewis was at his side, fresh faced and unflustered. Either the man was innocent or he should pursue a career in the theater. Robert closed the door and returned to his spot near the window.
Lewis remained in the center of the room, glancing from one man to the next curiously. “What’s going on?” His focus landed on Jonas.
“After you and everyone else left Saturday, Robert discovered that money was missing from the showroom cash register.”
Lewis’s face was blank. “How much?” he asked after a moment.
“All the cash. Probably close to a thousand dollars. We won’t know the exact amount until we review each purchase made that day and subtract those by check or credit card.”
Then, as realization dawned, Lewis’s upbeat demeanor faded. “And you think I took the money?”
“No, I do not.” Jonas answered without hesitation. “I can usually read people fairly well, and I don’t think you would take as much as a second donut from the break room.”
Robert cleared his throat, drawing Lewis’s attention. “The trouble is, only three keys exist to the drawer—yours, mine, and Jonas’s. And I sure didn’t steal anything.” He leaned his substantial bulk against the sill.
Lewis’s complexion paled to the color of skim milk. “I can’t explain this, Jonas, but I would never rob you. You and your wife have been as kind and generous to me as my own parents…and besides, it would be breaking a commandment.” He raked a hand through his thick brown hair. “Besides, I am now officially courting Nora.”
His voice cracked, and for one horrible moment, Jonas feared he might cry.
But he straightened his spine, clenched down on his back teeth, and glanced from one man to the other, waiting.
“I don’t know about anybody else, but I have a suspicion who might have pulled this stunt.” Ken almost spat the words.
Jonas cut him off with a wave of his hand. “We are not going to throw around baseless accusations.” He turned toward Lewis. “Do you remember for sure if you locked the drawer before going to my office on Saturday?”
“I think so, but I was still jotting down notes in my spiral tablet.” Lewis flushed a bright pink. “I can’t say for certain one way or the other, but if this happened because of my carelessness, I’ll work off every missing penny.”
Jonas shrugged, with his hand already on the doorknob. “Let’s all get to work. Don’t speak to anyone about the missing money. No one,” he emphasized. “We’ll keep our eyes and ears open for a while. The real thief might resent getting no glory for his misdeed and start dropping hints to his friends.”
Robert and Ken exchanged a brief but pointed glance. Jonas’s intuition told him the two Englischers would prefer he fire Lewis on the spot, or at least transfer him to a position without access to money. But he knew Lewis would never recover from such a blow to his character. He would quit his job and move out of the house tonight. Jonas refused to hobble anyone’s future based on circumstantial evidence, no matter how conclusive it appeared to be. “Everyone back to where they belong,” he repeated, louder than before. “We have a business to run.”
His three employees filed out without another word or backward glance. Jonas was left with a mountain of paperwork, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the undeniable reality that he had a thief on the payroll.
Their boss truly got her money’s worth from her employees on Thursdays. The bakery didn’t open until ten o’clock, two hours later than on Saturdays, but Violet worked her tailbone off the whole day. And Nora? Between baking pies and cookies, helping Violet wait on customers, and running back and forth to the shed for more supplies, she resembled an unfortunate hen being readied for the dinner table. As Nora walked Violet to the buggy after closing up shop and stowing the wheelchair, she grabbed her friend’s arm several times to steady her.
“Would you stop babying me?” Violet huffed. “I can walk. My legs are getting stronger every day.”
“Then why are you staggering as though you’re drunk?” Nora lingered close by, ready to catch her friend.
“I’m exhausted. Aren’t you? This heat drains the life out of a gal.”
“Totally agree with you there.” When they reached the buggy, Nora put an arm around Violet.
But she shook off the assistance. “Back off, missy. Let me do this myself. How will I improve if you and mamm keep hovering?”
Nora moved away to steady the horse as Violet limped up to the steps. With one hand on the handle Jonas had installed and the other on the buggy’s frame, she pulled herself up. But with the cumbersome leg braces, her body remained immobile in the doorway.
“A little push would be nice.”
Still hanging onto the reins, Nora stepped behind her friend. “With pleasure,” she answered and delivered a hearty shove to Violet’s backside.
“Oof!” she sputtered. “There we are, all inside.” She shuffled her feet and plopped down on the bench. After straightening her skirt, she grinned at Nora as she climbed in from the other side. “I almost flew right out the other door.” Both women laughed uproariously as Violet yanked Nora’s kapp askew.
“I believe in putting forth my best effort.” Nora drank deeply from her water bottle and flicked flies from the horse with the long-handled whip.
“Why don’t we get moving before the three of us melt?” asked Violet after a minute of sitting in the hot sun.
Nora lifted her chin. “Only if you promise to spill the beans about last Saturday night. Otherwise we’ll stay until you’re ready.”
“Whatever do you mean, Miss King?” Violet reached for a soda from their cooler bag.
“Don’t play coy with me, missy. You pried every detail from me about the hayride—from where each courting couple sat, to what Lewis and I talked about, to where the wagon took us…as
well as a full description of both kisses.” With the last item, Nora dropped her voice to whisper. “You know everything about the hayride except for the exact location of stars and planets in heaven above.”
“I do wish you had taken better notes regarding the sky.” Violet smiled, sly as a fox.
“And then you peppered me about our buggy ride around Audrain County on Sunday, even though you’ve lived here your entire life and have seen everything I described a hundred times.” Nora tugged Violet’s kapp to the side.
“It’s always good to hear things from a fresh perspective. Could we go home, please?” Violet pulled a hanky from her purse and blotted her perspiring face. “All right, I’ll tell you, but I didn’t want to jinx things by blabbing too soon. And don’t tell my daed I used the word jinx—he doesn’t like it.”
“Then I suggest you start talking.” Nora released the brake and shook the reins. With the buggy finally rolling the breeze felt wonderful. “All I know is by the time Lewis and I returned from the hayride you, your wheelchair, and Seth Yoder had disappeared. Someone said you went down to the bonfire for marshmallows, but Lewis and I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Maybe you didn’t try the path to the river.” She smirked behind a raised hand.
“Violet Trask, you and Seth snuck off alone from the get-together?” Nora couldn’t believe her ears. “You two just met!”
“Don’t make such a big deal about it. It was all in fun. Seth was telling me about the horses his family raises. And he mentioned several are saddle broken because he and his bruder like to take trail rides into the hills or down to the river.” Violet rolled her eyes with great exaggeration. “I asked, what river? I’ve lived here my whole life, and there is no river close to Josh’s house.” She fanned herself with a piece of cardboard.
Nora steered the buggy to the side of the road as a car passed. “Go on.”
“Seth said he would show me. Then I asked if he happened to notice I use crutches or a wheelchair.” Violet laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. “He said climb into that chair and we’ll go for a ride.”