A Shining Light

by Judith Miller

  Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I have no right to kiss you, and kissing you on the forehead is not at all the kind of kiss I’d like to give you. But if something should happen to me, I need you to know I love you. I thank God every day that you and Lukas came into my life.”

  He didn’t give me a chance to respond before entering the barn. My insides quivered in a mixture of fear and delight. I held my breath and waited, my fear mounting by the minute. Surely the quiet meant no one had spotted Dirk.

  “Please, Lord, keep Lukas and Dirk safe.” Over and over, I repeated that same prayer. I couldn’t bring myself to pray for Fred or Mr. Shaw. They had created this dangerous situation and neither seemed to care that they had placed Lukas in harm’s way. If they desired the Lord’s help, they would need to pray for themselves.

  My breathing eased a bit. By now, Dirk must have been with Lukas. I kept my gaze fixed on the door, certain Lukas would soon appear. Only moments later, I heard the tromping of feet and another shot rang out. I covered my mouth to squelch the scream that threatened. No matter what, I must remain quiet. If Fred discovered I was along the side of the barn, he’d turn his attention back to Lukas.

  “Looks like you took a bullet, Mr. Shaw.” Fred’s shout was followed by vile laughter. “You better try and get outta here ’fore ya bleed to death.”

  A knot settled in my stomach as the minutes ticked by. Except for hooting owls and chirping locusts, silence reigned. I didn’t know how much time elapsed, but I started when Fred shouted to Lukas.

  “Get over and see if he’s dead, boy. Don’t be a coward. Do what yer pa says. He won’t shoot ya. If he’s alive, he knows I’m sendin’ you over to check on him.”

  I waited, holding my breath.

  “Lukas! Get over there and see ’bout that Pinkerton agent or I’ll aim this gun at your skinny little backside. Go on!”

  I leaned close to the door and strained to listen. “I-I-I’m going, Pa. Don’t shoot me.” Lukas’s voice trembled with fear, and I wanted to thrash Fred. How dare he treat his son with such hateful disregard! A muffled sound of footsteps soon followed. “I-I-I think he’s dead, Pa. He won’t answer me.”

  “Hold your hand near his nose and mouth and see if he’s breathing,” Fred shouted.

  “He’s not breathing, Pa.”

  “That tinsmith didn’t come back in the barn, did he?”

  “No, Pa. It’s just you and me—and Mr. Shaw. I’m going back over to the stall. I don’t want to stay beside a dead man.”

  “You need to come up here and help me, Lukas. I don’t want to hear no cryin’ ’bout you’re scared to climb the ladder. I’ll be waitin’ right up here and help you. See? I’m goin’ over there right now to—”

  A shot rang out and a strangled cry was followed by a loud thump. Lukas screamed. Dirk called to the boy as Mr. Shaw yelled for them to keep calm. I leaned against the barn, my heart pounding and palms perspiring.

  I could keep quiet no longer. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

  The door burst open and Lukas rushed into my arms. His body shuddered and I held him tight.

  “I think Papa’s dead.” His voice caught and he thrust his face against my shoulder as sobs racked his frame.

  “You were very brave, Lukas.” Dirk appeared and stooped down beside the boy. “I know this is very hard for you, but you did the right thing.”

  Lukas lifted his head from my shoulder. “Mr. Shaw said he wouldn’t kill Pa, but he did.”

  “Nein. Your Vater died because he fell from the loft and hit his head on the floor,” Dirk explained. “Mr. Shaw’s bullet was not what caused his death. If your Vater would have come down like Mr. Shaw asked, he would still be alive. For sure, it is sad that he has died, but he made that choice—not you, or me, or Mr. Shaw.” Tears continued to stream down the boy’s cheeks, and Dirk wiped them away with his handkerchief.

  “Did you hear my pa say he was going to shoot at me?” Lukas’s voice warbled into high pitch before he finished the question. He sniffed and looked at me. “Do you think he was really going to? I tried to do what he said, but he still didn’t like me, did he?”

  I cupped his cheeks between my palms. “You are a sweet and wonderful little boy, Lukas. And, no, I don’t think your father would have shot at you. He thought that if he scared you, you would do what he said.”

  “But I had to do what Mr. Shaw said ’cause he was right there beside me.” His eyes grew wide. “And he had a gun, too.”

  Dirk leaned forward and took Lukas’s hand. “But Mr. Shaw never said he would shoot at you, did he?”

  “Nooo.” Brown curls fell across his forehead as he shook his head. “Mr. Shaw said Pa would quit shooting if I said he was dead. So that’s what I did, but that was a lie.”

  Dirk smiled. “This one time I think it is gut that you told the lie. Mr. Shaw wanted to keep all of us safe.”

  Confusion flickered in Lukas’s eyes. “But if Mr. Shaw would have gone away, Papa would still be alive.”

  “Your father was involved in some very bad things back in Baltimore.” I inhaled a shallow breath, uncertain how much to tell the boy right now. “Mr. Shaw couldn’t go away. It was his job to take your father back there.”

  “I think you and your Mutter should go back to the village and ask one of the men to bring a wagon to the barn. Mr. Shaw and I will stay here.” Dirk stood and placed his hand on Lukas’s shoulder. “Do you think you could do that for me?”

  Lukas nodded and squared his shoulders. He was trying so hard to be brave, yet I wondered how all of this would affect him in the days and weeks to come. I had prayed for his safety and God had provided. Now I would pray that God would erase these terrible memories from my son’s mind.

  Chapter 28

  The following days proved difficult. Mr. Shaw took care of arrangements regarding Fred’s body. When I said I didn’t think he should be buried in the village cemetery, Mr. Shaw agreed. He needed proof of Fred’s death, and since photographs were seldom taken in the colonies, there was no photographer. Besides, I thought the idea of photographing a dead man repugnant.

  The village carpenter constructed a wooden coffin for Fred. Two days later, the coffin was loaded into the baggage car of the train Mr. Shaw boarded for Baltimore.

  “It’s better this way,” he’d said. “I’ll see that he’s buried in Baltimore. I can write and give you the name of the cemetery, if you’d like.” I told him it wasn’t necessary. I had no intention of ever visiting Baltimore again.

  Though I had little remorse over Fred’s death, I did find myself thinking of those early days when he’d been a different man. He’d never been overly kind, but when I married him, I believed him to have many redeeming qualities. Trying to understand how a man could change so much plagued me. Had I done something to cause those dreadful changes? Was it being married and having a child? Had he wanted to escape to a carefree life? How had he justified resorting to robbery and murder?

  I would never have the answers. Truth be told, I couldn’t answer the questions Lukas had posed since his father’s death. After the incident in the barn, he became fearful and timid, startled by every loud noise or unexpected circumstance. At night, I heard him whimpering in his sleep, and it tore at my heart. What damage Fred had done in such a short time. The boy had longed to win his father’s love, but Fred had loved no one but himself.

  My days seemed strangely distorted now that Fred was gone. I’d become accustomed to rushing to the doctor’s office in between my duties at the Küche. It seemed odd returning to the former routine, both for me and for Lukas. His schedule had been interrupted when Fred arrived, and his current readjustment was a daily reminder of his father’s violent death.

  Dirk was doing his best to rally around Lukas and me, and his attention proved valuable to both of us. Together we talked through much of what had happened, but Lukas withdrew at times, and I wondered if there were secrets he was protecting. Dirk cautioned me no
t to push him too fast. “He will tell all when he is ready. Give him time.”

  Days later, I was preparing to go to the cellar for milk when Lukas returned from the tinsmith shop with Dirk. A gust of cold wind swept across the floor as they stepped into the kitchen.

  Dirk quickly pulled the door closed behind him and shivered. “It is getting colder out there.”

  “But not too cold,” Lukas added.

  Dirk nodded and motioned me toward the dining room while Lukas remained in the kitchen with Sister Erma. “Lukas wants us to go to the barn with him.”

  I arched my brows. “The barn? You mean where his father . . .” I left the question unfinished and stared at him.

  “Ja, he says he has something to show us.”

  My thoughts raced. What could he possibly show us in that empty barn? “I don’t think it’s a good idea. He will relive what happened, and his bad dreams will begin anew.”

  “I did my best to talk him out of the idea, but he says it is important. I think we must trust his word on this, Andrea.” He tipped his head to the side. “You are the one who said he has been holding back. Maybe this is what he needs to do in order to free himself from what happened there.”

  I didn’t believe returning to the barn would be helpful, but Dirk was right: I had encouraged Lukas to confide in us. To discourage him now would be wrong. I glanced toward the kitchen. “I need to speak with Sister Erma.”

  Dirk nodded and called Lukas into the dining room while I went and spoke to Sister Erma. She nodded her agreement. “Ja, I think we can manage without you for a while if you can first get the milk from the cellar.”

  Before we departed, Dirk and Lukas went to the cellar for the milk while I went upstairs and retrieved my cape and a warmer coat for Lukas. When they returned to the kitchen, I held out the coat to Lukas. “You need to change coats. It is getting colder outside. By the time we return, the sun will be setting.”

  Lukas ran ahead as Dirk and I quickened our steps to help ward off the chill in the air. Dirk moved closer to my side and touched his finger to my forehead. “These lines tell me you are worrying too much. I do not think this will be as terrible as you imagine. Lukas wanted to go to the barn. Neither of us ever mentioned he should return. Please try to set your worries aside.”

  “I know you are probably right, but I wasn’t even in the barn when all the shooting happened, and I don’t want to go back there.”

  His lips parted in a smile. “But I admire that you are willing to go for your son’s sake.” Somehow Dirk always knew exactly what to say.

  As we approached the barn, Lukas slowed his pace and waited for us to join him. I was glad he hadn’t rushed ahead. I clasped his hand and he squeezed mine in return, each of us gathering strength from the other. “Do you want to talk before we go inside, Lukas?”

  “No, I’ll tell you in there.”

  The heavy barn door creaked a loud protest as Dirk pulled it open. The three of us walked inside as the late afternoon shadows fell across the straw-strewn floor. Everything seemed so much the same as the last time we’d been there that I shivered at the remembrance.

  Lukas gestured toward the ladder leading to the loft. “The first time I came here with Papa, he got real mad ’cause I wouldn’t climb up there. I told him I was scared of going up high, but he said I should be a man.”

  I squeezed his shoulder. “But you’re not a man. You’re a boy, and going up that ladder is a scary thing. When I was a little girl, I wouldn’t go up there, either.”

  Lukas’s eyes brightened a bit. “Did you ever go up there?”

  “Not until I was fifteen years old, and even then, I was frightened. I tripped on the hem of my skirt and almost fell, so that was the last time I was up there.”

  “You only ever went up there one time?”

  I nodded my head. “Yes. Your grandpa didn’t think girls should work in the barn, so there really was no reason for me to be up there.”

  “But boys are supposed to help, and Pa wanted me to go up there ’cause of his side was hurting so bad. He said we were looking for something.”

  “What? Is that why you came here?”

  “I came ’cause Pa said he needed my help. He wanted to find something someone else left up there. And he found it, too.”

  I shook my head. “You need to tell me everything, Lukas.”

  His lip quivered. “You can go up there and see. Pa said he found something, but I never went up the ladder to look. When we came back the last time, he wanted me to go up and help him bring down a metal box, but I was still afraid.”

  My mind reeled. A metal box? Could my father’s money be hidden in the barn loft? Would he have done such a thing?

  Dirk stooped down in front of the boy. “And now what do you want to do? Did you want to go up there and see if your Vater was telling the truth?”

  Lukas shook his head. “I don’t want to climb the ladder, but you or Mama can go up and see.”

  “Since your Mutter does not like climbing that ladder, either, I will go and see what I can find.” Taking long steps, Dirk strode toward the ladder and in no time was into the loft.

  I waited, not sure if I wanted Dirk to find the box. If it was there, and if it did contain my father’s money, it would mean Lukas and I could leave the colonies and start a new life somewhere else. Of late, I’d given no thought to ever leaving. I’d become accustomed to the routine of my daily chores and enjoyed visiting with the other women. I had slowly embraced the faith of these people and found my place among them. They had given me hope and been a shining light during the darkest hours of my life.

  Since Fred’s death, I’d permitted myself once again to consider a future here—a future that included Dirk. Late at night as I lay in bed, I dreamed of him as my husband, but the money would change all of that. Just as Fred had appeared and ruined everything, the money could do the same now.

  Lukas pranced from foot to foot. “Do you see it up there? I think it was over in a corner. That’s where Papa was when he hollered down to me that he found something.”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ll check the other side. He may have moved it.” Streaks of waning light shone through the loft door and cast Dirk’s shadow in front of us.

  “I don’t think there’s anything up there. We should probably leave. Sister Erma will soon need my help in the kitchen.”

  “Not yet, Mama. Let Brother Dirk look. I don’t think Papa was lying about the box.”

  “We can wait a little longer, but then I need to go back to the Küche.” Even though I didn’t want Dirk to find the money, I couldn’t deny the boy’s pleading request. He wanted to believe at least one thing his father had told him was true.

  “I found a metal box shoved under a pile of hay!” Dirk’s shout echoed in the cavernous barn.

  “That’s it. That’s it! I’m sure that’s the box Papa found. Open it up, Brother Dirk.” Lukas rushed to the foot of the ladder, his voice ringing with excitement.

  “Ja, there is money inside. I am going to bring it down.”

  I felt as though my heart had dropped into the pit of my stomach. I clasped my arms around my waist, unable to believe Fred had actually found my father’s money—and unable to believe that, even in death, Fred could again disrupt my life.

  Dirk’s shoes clapped on the wooden ladder as he carefully descended while holding the metal box beneath his arm. After he had stepped off the last rung, he extended the box to me. I shook my head, not wanting to touch it—wanting it to disappear so that I would not have to make hard choices. “Lukas can carry it.”

  The boy eagerly reached for the box and held it under his arm. “One time, Papa told me money makes you rich. Are we rich, Mama?”

  I locked gazes with Dirk. “We were already rich, Lukas. Money is not what makes a person rich.”

  “It isn’t?” His voice was filled with wonder, and I smiled at the curiosity in his eyes. “But it’s lots of money and we can go and live anywhere. That’s what Papa s
aid.”

  “It probably is lots of money, and having money means you can buy many things, travel different places, and live wherever you want. But having money and being rich are two different things. Being rich means we have peace and love and friends who help when we’re in need. We were rich before we found the money because we had already received friendship, love, and security right here in the colonies. Your pa didn’t understand God’s truth about money and being rich.”

  “But Papa said—”

  “He was wrong. We don’t need to talk about this anymore, Lukas.” I gestured for him to move along, and soon he was several steps ahead and out of earshot.

  “Why are you angry? I think you have confused Lukas. He expected you to be pleased. When you returned to Iowa and learned your Vater’s farm had been sold, the boy became aware you needed money. Now you tell him money is not important. He does not understand why that has changed.”

  “I didn’t say money wasn’t important. I said it didn’t make us rich. There is a difference.”

  “Ja, I agree there is a difference, but that difference is not what makes you angry, is it?”

  I shook my head. He was right—I would have been thrilled if we had found the money when we first arrived. But we hadn’t. Our lives had changed. When Fred arrived, I knew I would eventually be forced to leave the colonies, but since his death, I had again readjusted my thinking. There was no decision needed. Lukas and I would remain here. The money changed everything. Instead of circumstances dictating my life, now I had choices.

  The thought of making those choices warred within me. When I was a child, my father had made decisions for me; when I was an adult, Fred had made them. Circumstances in Baltimore had forced our return to Iowa, but I’d had no other choice. There’d been nowhere else to go. But now—now I had a choice.

  With my father’s money from the sale of the farm, I could purchase a house and send Lukas to a fine school. One day he might even decide to attend college and become a physician or pharmacist. I might meet a man and . . . and what? Fall in love? I was already in love. I gave Dirk a sidelong glance.