“There’s no life here. Everything’s gone.” He didn’t let go until she understood and was ready to leave this place to find Jim.
She nodded and took his hand as he guided her out. They walked over to the only two structures left standing, but nothing stirred in the eerie quiet as they walked the grounds. The sounds of her childhood were mute. No cows lowing their complaints to walk to the barn to be milked, no rooster crowing to wake them. Only silence, but it wasn’t the peaceful quiet that she’d found at Meadowlark Valley with Mose. The ghosts that haunted her remained here, and that was all she felt from this place.
Mose seemed to understand and was quiet until they got to the buggy. “I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“This place was hit hard.” She scanned the entire farm, slowly taking one last look before they left. She had to remember what she was leaving, that it wasn’t what she remembered growing up there. It had become as broken as the people who lived there.
“I’m ready.” Abby closed her eyes as Mose encouraged Frank to pull them out of the mud pit where the wheels had stuck. Abby prayed they could get through. She didn’t want to be there for another second. When she felt the wagon move, she opened her eyes and focused on the road.
Mose put a hand on hers. “Is there anywhere else you want to look or go to see someone he might be with?”
“No, there’s no one else. Maybe we should go ahead and check the hospital.” And that’s what scared her. Since Jim had no friends or family to watch over him, he could have wandered off somewhere, and no one would know to look for him. She blamed herself for being gone so long. She knew how he was and that he was getting sick.
“Stop.” Mose’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts.
She looked over at him, wondering what was wrong.
“It’s not your fault. If you wouldn’t have left, you would have been a fool. And I wouldn’t have let you come back any sooner than you did.” He kept his eyes forward when he spoke, as if he didn’t want to lose his confidence in telling her what was on his mind.
“Thank you, Mose. I needed to hear that.” She squeezed his hand and admired the profile of his strong jawline and the slight bend in his nose that she was curious about. They were silent as they drove, but when they got on to the highway, she wanted to hear his voice, but not about any of the reasons they were there until curiosity got the best of her.
“What did you do to your nose?” She grinned slightly, glad to have something to smile about.
He scoffed. “My bruder hit me when we were messing around one day. I made him mad, and he popped me one. He caught it from my daed. But my mamm was even sorer at him than Daed.” He grinned at the thought. “It was always fun watching Jake get it because he usually got out of punishments.”
“Why do you think he didn’t get caught?”
“Didn’t have the conscience to ’fess up is my guess.”
“But you would have told the truth even if you knew you’d be disciplined?”
“Jah, I never wanted to carry the burden of a lie.”
“So, you did the right thing even if you got punished?”
He turned to Abby and studied her for a moment. “How does this relate to Jim?”
She smiled at his insight. “It relates to me, doing the right thing. I’m going to need someone by my side who will keep me on the right path. Because I can tell you now, there will be times that I don’t want to.”
“You got all that from my busted nose?”
“Your brother and Jim think alike in a lot of ways.”
Mose looked over at her again. “You hadn’t mentioned that before.”
“You didn’t tell me you had an older brother until he just showed up one day.”
“Jah, I guess we both have someone who keeps us on our knees.”
Abby smiled at the comment and said a little prayer right then, before she faced Jim, if they found him. If nothing else came of her seeing him again, she at least wanted him to know she’d tried. And all the things before this, like taking her mother’s role cooking and cleaning after she died, and that she tried to be a good daughter to Jim, even though he was mentally as well as physically abusive, and she worked to help provide for them when he lost his reputation as a horse trader. He’d never appreciated anything she’d done, and she doubted she could expect it now.
When they got to the hospital, they were fortunate to be in a buggy, as the parking lots were full and they could squeeze into a space by a curb. Mose tethered the horse to a parking meter occupied by a small car and fed the meter a few coins. The closer they got to the front doors, the more anxious Abby became. It was even worse than the farm. This was unknown to her, and so was her father’s fate. If he wasn’t here, where else could they look?
They stood in line at the registration desk and watched the bustle of people going every which way. The waiting room was filled with people, and the employees looked harried and overworked.
When they finally got up to the desk, a clerk with puffy brown hair and bright-colored lips began asking one question after another. The barrage of information requested overwhelmed Abby, and she held up a hand for her to stop. “Jim Barker. He’s my father. I just need to know if he’s here.”
“There’s a certain protocol we ask each person, ma’am.” The woman punched in some numbers in a computer and shook her head. “No one by that name is registered here.”
“Where else would someone be who is hurt or needs help?” Mose leaned over and stuck his head over the desk to get her attention.
“You can check the churches. They’re taking in the needy.” Her heavy stare told them that was all the information they were going to get.
Mose took Abby’s hand and led them to a quiet area where they could talk. “Is there any certain church he might go to?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t go to church. But there’s another hospital I want to check first—the St. Phillips Episcopal Hospital.”
“The same name as the school where you teach. I should have thought of that. I hope your daed did.”
She wondered how it would feel going back to work at the school after spending time with the Amish. She loved her job, but it was difficult to think about leaving Meadowlark Valley. And as she looked over at Mose, she especially couldn’t imagine not being with him.
He kept her close as they passed by the line of people waiting for assistance and made their way to the buggy. The traffic was heavier than usual, but not as bad as Abby had thought it might be. A lot of people were on foot, going to grocery stores, fixing the mudslides that had caused damages, and repairing their shops.
“There’s still a lot that needs to be done around here.” Mose maneuvered through the people and traffic with more ease than the cars, and they were soon at the hospital. “It doesn’t seem well organized.”
“This is what you call quiet chaos.” The organized ways of the Amish would be helpful in a situation like this. No one seemed to be helping each other, but she hadn’t noticed any escalations or problems.
A nurse with blue scrubs caught them at the door. “Can I help you?”
“Jah, ma’am. We’re looking for Jim Barker,” Mose replied, peering over at the small computer she held as she tapped in some information.
“This way.” She guided them into the crowded waiting area and pointed to the hall. “The elevators are down to the end. Go to the second floor, and you’ll be directed to him.”
Although helpful, everyone was abrupt. Abby knew she shouldn’t expect more; there were a lot of other patients that needed to be taken care of. She was just anxious about the possibility of being so close to seeing Jim.
What will I say? What if he doesn’t want me here? Will he be as nasty as ever, or will he be humbled?
If he was the latter of the two, Abby wondered whether she’d even know what to do with him. But she prayed for a gentle spirit all the same.
The ding of the elevator was sharp in her ears a
s she stepped out and then looked down the long hall filled with busy nurses and doctors. Mose walked away to ask a nurse where Jim was, and Abby slowly walked down the hall, looking for a familiar face.
Then she saw him. He lay perfectly still, with a breathing mask over his nose and mouth. His gray hair had turned white, and his skin had lost the touch of sun that was usually on his arms. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was open, as if to let in as much oxygen as possible.
She felt Mose’s hand rest on her shoulder as he silently stood behind her for a moment. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, not ready to speak yet. Mose started to move his hand, but she reached up and held it tight against her shoulder.
What would I do without him here with me?
She used to be alone all of the time, but now she couldn’t imagine being without him, especially now.
The nurse came in and put two fingers on Jim’s wrist. “Are you relatives?”
“I am, yes. How is he?” Abby didn’t recognize her own voice. It was so filled with emotion.
“I’ll have the doctor come in and talk with you.” She wrote on Jim’s chart, smiled, and left.
Abby felt Mose’s hand slip away and heard his footsteps. Soon he walked in with a doctor, who was explaining something to him. “You must be Mr. Barker’s daughter. I’m Dr. Warren, the attending physician.” He checked the chart and turned back to Abby.
“What’s wrong with him?” Abby examined the machines. One was giving him oxygen, but she wasn’t sure what the other was for.
“Your father has a tumor.” Dr. Warren paused to let it sink in, but Abby only responded with a blink.
Numb as she felt, Abby made herself speak. She needed to know what was happening to him, whether she wanted to or not. “What does that mean?”
“If he would have come in earlier, we might have been able to help him. But at this stage, his chances of recovery are not favorable.” The doctor’s words were hard, but his demeanor was kind. “Did he show any symptoms of chest pains, fever, or weight loss?”
She shook her head. “No, the first time I noticed anything was when I saw him cough up blood.” The remorse she felt grew.
If I had made him go to the doctor earlier, they may have been able to do more for him.
“Where is the tumor?”
“In his small intestine. That explains expelling the mucus and blood.” He paused and studied her. “I can explain in more detail.”
She shook her head. “What can you do for him?”
“We can do an endoscopy to find out the size and exact location of the tumor to see if chemo or radiation would help, or surgery, but I don’t think he’s strong enough to undergo a procedure.”
Abby watched Jim’s mask fill with condensation and his chest heave with each breath. “How long would he have without doing anything?”
“Medically speaking, not long.” He moved forward and stepped closer to Abby. “But I’ve seen miracles happen.” He patted her on the arm and walked to the door. “Let me know what you decide.” He turned and walked out of the room.
“He makes it sound easy.” Mose let out a breath. “It isn’t fair for you to have to decide. I’m sorry it’s left to you.”
“He pretty much gave me the answer.” She looked up at Mose. “Jim would be happier with my mother than with me.”
“It’s a quality of life question at this point.” Mose looked over at Jim. “When he wakes up, maybe he’ll help you with what to do.”
“It would be good for him to decide, not me.” She didn’t want this burden. It wasn’t fair to have gone through so much misery with him all of those years and have to decide what to do about his medical issues.
Why did I get the worst of Jim and my mother the best?
She stopped her thoughts. But he hadn’t treated her mother well when Abby grew older. Looking back, she wondered whether Jim was envious of the attention her mother had given her. It would explain him abusing her. Nothing else made sense. And it explained his unreasoning disdain for Abby. She’d always felt it was something she’d done, but now she was realizing it wasn’t her fault at all—or her mother’s.
Mose’s voice brought her back. “What about the miracles?”
Abby couldn’t imagine anything even remotely close to something that pure or holy involving Jim. She swallowed hard as the reality of her family transgressions were revealed to her. The worst part was she couldn’t explain it to Mose. He wouldn’t understand her not caring if her own father lived or died.
“If it’s meant to be.” She shrugged, not sure of anything at the moment—especially miracles.
“What is it, Abby?” Mose bent down to look at her, but she didn’t meet his eyes, ashamed of what she was thinking. The more she thought about it, the more Abby knew she’d realized much more than she was willing to admit. It had taken Jim being near death to bring it up to the surface.
Chapter Thirty
MOSE WAS ANXIOUS to pick up Abby for Henry’s memorial, knowing she would be going back to the hospital after the service. These were the times he wished she stayed at his home and they could leave together and communicate better. He decided to leave early to have some extra time with her.
Mose enjoyed the morning cool, before the heat stirred up the thick humidity. Most of the crops were beat up, half or completely gone. The autumn harvest wouldn’t be plentiful, by any means. It would mean everyone gathering their crops together and sharing what they had equally. They would eat their regular fill, but they wouldn’t have enough to sell and make a profit. The only good way of thinking about it was that they could put food on the table. Only one had perished, but one was more heartache than any of them could stand. It was a comforting peace of mind to think of Henry going on up to heaven with an angel by his side.
When Mose drove up to the Troyers’ house, Abby was sitting on the top step waiting for him. He was pleased they could talk a little before getting to the service. As soon as she stood, Becca walked out with two of her sisters. He didn’t want to appear rude, but he was a mite resentful that he and Abby wouldn’t be alone. But he’d pushed that too far too many times. This was for the best.
Joe pulled up in front of Mose’s buggy and grinned at him. “Morning, Bruder Mose.”
Joe must have seen the irritation in Mose’s face to grin like he was, but he wasn’t going to pull out of it quickly.
“Mornin’.” He switched gears and started focusing on the meaning of the day. He shouldn’t be thinking about himself first, second, or third. This was Henry’s day.
“I hope it’s okay to have the Troyer girls ride with us. Becca’s folks sure appreciate it.”
Mose must have given some clue that he was annoyed, because Abby and Joe were giving him subtle warnings. “No problem. Gut morning, ladies,” he said in a most cordial voice.
“Thanks for driving us, Mose.”
“Jah, it’s nice to be together on a day like today.”
The young women continued to chatter, and Mose politely responded when he should, and when he got the opportunity, he looked over at Abby to make contact. She tapped his knee and smiled at his reserved demeanor. The sensation of her touch distracted him from anything else he had been thinking about. She couldn’t have realized the effect it had on him, and he was surprised that it did in such a powerful way. He hoped her attraction to him was the same as what he felt for her. A moment like that gave him hope that she did.
Mose dropped the Troyer girls off, and then he and Abby found a spot along a long thick rope that had been tied up to tether their horse. As they walked together to the Zooks’ home, Mose instinctively wanted to hold her hand but didn’t. Even though they knew they lived in two different worlds, Mose found himself forgetting she wasn’t meant to be there.
The longer she stayed, the less foreign it felt to have her there. He could see that others were starting to feel the same. She could have been one of the Troyer girls to a stranger, and they wouldn’t know the difference. M
ose was becoming blind to it as well, and that was a dangerous place to be.
Abby’s back stiffened, she stood straight, and her face was taut. Her eyes darted from one person to another in question. When she turned to him, he touched her hand. “It’s just like most funerals. Don’t worry.”
Abby let out a breath she’d been holding. “Okay, good.”
Many from the group near Beeville came to give their respects, overcrowding the room out past the front door. The setup at the Zooks’ home was the same as any other Sunday. The plain pine casket was set up in the center of the room as Minister Miller gave a sermon. “Henry’s earthly journey is over and his new life has begun.”
Another sermon was given, and they sang a song. At the end of the service mourners walked past the family as the preacher recited Henry’s name and said a prayer. There had been visitors at Henry’s home, but the service wasn’t over until the soil was placed on the ground around the headstone.
One of the elders led them in a song, and then Minister Miller read passages out of the Bible. There was never a eulogy, only the deceased’s name said. The minister then gave a sermon and the congregation sang another song. With the service over, they got in their buggies and took the coffin to the cemetery in a hearse wagon.
When everyone got there, the minister led the mourners to the gravesite. The cemetery was not large, as they were a small community and not much time had passed since their arrival. So they hadn’t had a reason to lay a soul to rest.
“Join with me in song.” One of the elders led them in all four verses. The a cappella voices mixed together to make a varied, beautiful harmony. A white tombstone next to Henry’s wife had only his name, date of birth, and date of death engraved.
“It seems there should be something more on the headstone,” Abby mentioned as they walked past it.
Mose glanced at the tombstone. “Somehow, I find peace in that—a simple man with a simple tombstone, just enough to tell you he was born, lived, and died.”
“Simple. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that word since I’ve come here. It has a whole new meaning here than it does out there.” She pointed toward the highway that led to Beeville.
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