The officer set to work, first putting out emergency cones to slow down any traffic.
“Can I give you a ride home?” Bynum asked.
“Nein. We all live close, and I have the tractor.”
“All right. I’ll be in touch as soon as we know something.” Bynum climbed into his patrol car. He blipped the siren once and drove away toward the bishop’s house. An unnatural silence had fallen over the scene. A few people hurried down the road, looking to see what had happened.
But there was nothing to see.
There was no sign of the tragedy that had happened there other than a couple of tire tracks in the mud. Everything was the same as before, and nothing was the same as before.
How quickly life changed.
Mammi’s words came back to Paul. Never assume you have tomorrow.
He squatted down and pulled both boys to him. “You did gut. It was a very sad thing that happened today, but you stayed calm and did the right thing.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Mateo used the back of his hand to brush away his tears.
“I hope so. Let’s pray that he is.”
He held them close as each offered up their own silent prayers, and then he squeezed them once more and stood up. As they were walking toward the tractor, Mateo pulled away, hurried over to the fence, and picked up a package.
When he brought it back, Paul could see it was some type of gift.
“For Brian’s wife,” Isaac said.
“Ya,” Mateo unzipped his backpack, the one that still had blood from his teacher’s wound, and stuffed the gift inside. “He can give it to her when he comes home.”
CHAPTER 66
Sarah hurried down the porch steps. She’d been standing there, watching for the boys, and now Paul was driving down her lane. When he came closer, she saw that both boys were with him, scrunched onto the little tractor. He was driving slowly, carefully.
But why was he bringing them home? Why weren’t they walking, and why were they late? And what were the sirens she’d heard?
Those questions died on her lips when she saw that Mateo was wearing Paul’s shirt, and Paul was standing there in his pants and undershirt. She ran toward the tractor. As soon as it stopped, Mateo and Isaac jumped off. At first they flew to her, wrapping their arms around her, but then they stepped back and glanced toward Paul.
“It’s their teacher, Brian. He was hit by an Englisch vehicle.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “How bad is it?”
“They’ve already taken him to a hospital in Tulsa. Sheriff Bynum said he would pick up Bishop Levi. Together they’ll go and tell Katie.”
“Someone should be with her. She’ll want someone to stay with the children so she can go and be with him.”
The rest of the Yoders had spilled out of the house. Paul again repeated what he knew, and this time Isaac and Mateo chimed in with bits of information.
“We saw it happen,” Mateo said, his voice shaking.
“Sort of.”
“I saw the truck swerve and then speed away.”
“And he realized it hit Brian.”
“So we ran.”
“And we tried to help.”
“But he was bleeding.” Mateo touched the top of his head. “And his leg was…”
“Broken.”
Their story spent, both boys swiped at their eyes.
Sarah pulled them to her again. What a terrible thing for two children to see. How frightened they must have been.
“Katie’s parents live close. They’ll stay with the children so she can go to the hospital to be with Brian.” Andy stuck his hands in his pockets. “This is a tragedy for sure. It’s hard to imagine…”
They stood there for a minute, their lives temporarily suspended by tragedy in their midst. Luke and Henry and Andy shuffled their feet. Paul stared back the way they had come. Mateo and Isaac studied their hands. Only Mia seemed unmoved by the news, though she did drop her doll into the dirt and proceeded to pat it saying, “You’re okay. Don’t worry.”
Sarah’s emotions tumbled over one another—from grief for Brian, to relief that the boys weren’t hurt, to guilt that she could feel relief when one of their community was even now speeding toward the hospital.
It was Mammi who took charge and broke through their shock. “Best get inside, boys. You’ll need to clean up before dinner. Mateo, put Paul’s shirt in the dirty clothes, and I’ll wash it tomorrow.”
“There’s no need for you to do that,” Paul assured her.
“The shirt has blood all over it, and I doubt you know how to soak and remove the stain. One of Andy’s should fit you. Don’t be arguing with me, Paul Byler, and I can see you’re about to. Dinner will be on the table in ten minutes, and I expect you to join us.”
No one would think of questioning Mammi, not when she used that tone. So they all went into the house, shock giving way to sadness. When the screen door had slapped shut behind Sarah, she stopped and looked around their home, surprised that everything looked as it had fifteen minutes ago. Tragedy had once again touched their lives. Their world had changed, and yet their home remained the same.
Dinner was as tasty as ever.
The boys ate, even Isaac and Mateo, though occasionally they would close their eyes and pull in a ragged breath. After the meal, Mammi suggested they join hands and offer silent prayers of healing for Brian, wisdom for his doctors, and comfort for his family.
It was only by chance that Sarah had sat next to Paul. When he reached for her hand, she couldn’t meet his gaze. She didn’t want him to see her tears, to see how vulnerable and raw she felt at the moment. But his hand? It calmed her, somehow settled her world that seemed to have tilted when she saw the boys with blood on their clothes.
Andy reminded Luke and Isaac and Mateo to complete their evening chores. For once they didn’t argue. Andy and Henry went to the barn to check on the chickens and Dusty. Sarah and Paul helped Mammi with the dishes. When the last plate was dried and put away, Mammi said, “Perhaps you’d like to walk Paul out to his tractor. I believe the night air might do you good.”
Sarah didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree.
How would she ever feel good again? Life was so precarious, and there was nothing she could do to protect those she loved.
But the evening air did help. Though it wasn’t yet fully dark, the first stars had begun to prick the night sky.
She looked up and remembered the Scripture from Job, about how God had placed the constellations in the sky. Surely He would show mercy to Brian, would heal him, unless…unless it was his time.
Paul’s thoughts seemed to mirror her own. “When someone passes, we say their life is complete. Hard to imagine that’s true in Brian’s case.”
“Did it seem so awfully bad? Do you think…is there a chance he won’t make it?” She’d held back the questions, not wanting to know, not wanting the boys to hear the answer.
Paul shook his head. She could just make out his expression in the fading light. “I’d like to tell you he’s going to be fine, but I can’t say that with any certainty. His leg was certainly broken in several places, but that alone shouldn’t have caused his unconsciousness. I’m not sure…not sure how bad the head injury was.”
“It’s a gut thing you were there.”
“I wasn’t though.” He told her then about seeing Mateo running down the road, how they’d hurried to the phone shack, and then their mad dash back to Brian’s side. “I think…I think the biggest danger would be internal bleeding. His blood pressure was low when one paramedic called it out to the other.”
“How do you know about blood pressures?”
“My mamm is a midwife.”
“Ya?” Sarah had never thought about Paul’s family, aside from Rebecca and Joseph. “Tell me about her.”
“She’s tough, like Mammi. I guess she had to be to raise so many boys.”
“Seven of you?”
“Ya.”
“A gut-sized Amish family.” Sarah laughed and then regretted it. How could she laugh when Brian was fighting for his life?
“It’s all right, you know.” Paul stepped closer, hesitated, and then he reached for her hand. “It’s okay to still have moments when you feel happy or when something makes you laugh.”
“It doesn’t feel okay.”
“Because you care about him.”
“I guess you know he wasn’t raised Amish.”
“Rebecca told me a little.”
“We were all surprised that he stuck with it. I’ve never known an Englischer who became Amish, though you read about such things often enough in romance books.”
“You read romance books?” They were walking toward his tractor, and he nudged her shoulder with his.
“Nein. Of course not,” she said in an exaggerated I’m-innocent voice. “I’ve only heard about them.”
Paul stopped a few feet from his tractor, glanced back at the house, and then reached forward and cupped her face in his hands.
“I could tell how frightened you were when you first saw the boys, when you saw the blood on them.”
Sarah’s right arm began to shake. She clasped it to her side with her other hand, but not before Paul noticed.
“Hey. It’s all right. The boys are okay.”
Any other time, she might have resisted, but when he pulled her into his arms, the reserve she’d carefully constructed began to crumble.
“What’s this about? Isaac and Mateo?”
She nodded, feeling foolish for sobbing all over his shirt—correction, all over Andy’s shirt. But for a moment, she stopped fighting the fact that she might actually need someone else. Briefly, she allowed herself to lean on his strength.
He patted her back, mumbled something about how strong the boys were, and attempted to make a joke about how much better Mammi’s cooking was than his.
“I managed to burn soup last night. Can you imagine?”
She could, and perhaps that was why she pulled away from him, wiped her sleeve across her eyes, and straightened her shoulders.
“Danki.”
“For?”
“For not telling me that Brian would be okay when we don’t know yet. For allowing me to fall apart.”
“Sarah, we all need to fall apart occasionally.”
Tears continued to roll down her face, but she pulled in a deep breath and put on her best smile.
“Even you?”
“Ya, of course.”
“And when was the last time you cried?”
He tapped his finger against his chin, as if he were deep in thought. Finally, he leaned closer to her and said, “Old Yeller. We read Old Yeller in class. I pretended I needed to go to the boys’ room, sat down on the step, and cried for a good two or three minutes.”
“You did not.”
“Ya. Ask my mamm. I told her, and she said most everyone cries when they read Old Yeller.”
“I did.”
“See?” He stepped closer and used his thumbs to wipe away the last remaining tears. “Get some sleep. We’ll know more about Brian’s condition tomorrow.”
Sarah was pretty sure she wouldn’t sleep, but she did. And before she drifted off, her last thought was of a young boy, sitting outside an outhouse, crying over a fictional story about a dog that didn’t even exist.
CHAPTER 67
Paul went to town first thing the next morning. He had arrived before the store opened, and now he stood at the counter as Rebecca checked to make sure the cash register had enough change for the day’s business.
“We heard he passed,” Rebecca said.
“Passed?”
“That’s what the Hershbergers told us. Said he died on the side of the road. Real tragedy. I plan to go and see Katie this afternoon.”
“Nein. Brian was alive when they loaded him in the ambulance.”
Joseph joined them at the register. “You’re sure?”
“Ya. I was there.” He explained how Mateo and Isaac had seen the accident.
“Those boys have been through enough.” Rebecca crossed and then uncrossed her arms. “It’s a shame that they saw such a thing, but I suppose Gotte has His reasons.”
“Maybe we could call the hospital to see how Brian’s doing.”
“No need for that.” Joseph flashed him a smile and hurried to unlock the door.
Bishop Levi was the first to walk inside. He was followed by two other men and one woman from their community. For the moment, Paul’s mind went blank, and he couldn’t remember a single name. Joseph said good morning to each of them, calling them by name.
Paul was going to have to make an effort to at least learn who people were. After all, this was his community now.
“Do you have news on Brian?”
“I do.” The bishop waited until everyone had quieted. “I stayed at the hospital through the night. Katie is doing okay, but she needs our prayers. She’s understandably quite upset.”
“And Brian?” Joseph asked.
“He’s in critical condition. He had some internal bleeding, which they did emergency surgery to stop. The doctors also had to give him a transfusion because he’d lost so much blood. If it hadn’t been for Mateo and Isaac…They saved his life by wrapping the shirt around his head and at least slowing the amount of blood loss.”
“So he will live?”
Levi shrugged and tapped his cane against the floor. Paul could tell that he’d rather not answer the question, but it was the bishop’s job to guide them, not protect them from the harshness of the world.
“The doctors couldn’t say. They put him in a medically induced coma to allow his body time to heal. The leg will mend, but the internal injuries, especially those to his head…only time will tell.”
They stood in stunned silence, and then the bell over the front door rang again. Paul looked up to see an Englisch couple walk inside. Slowly their group dispersed. Rebecca patted him on the shoulder. “Be sure to tell Sarah and her family what we know.”
He shook his head. “She was so upset yesterday.”
“And she’ll be upset today, but it’s better that you not try to hide this from her. She’ll imagine something even worse. Trust me. It’s what women do.”
“Hard to imagine worse than this.”
“Have faith. Brian has a chance, and we all know what a tough person he is.” Now Rebecca’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “He did become Amish. How many are able to do that? Brian Walker is a strong and godly man. We can trust him to Gotte’s care.”
Though he didn’t want to, Paul stopped by and told Mammi the news.
“Sarah is upstairs with Mateo. The boy’s been unusually quiet since it happened.”
“Would it help if I talked to him?”
Mammi cocked her head to the side, and then she patted her pocket and pulled out a silver-wrapped piece of chocolate. She put it into Paul’s hand and closed his fingers around it. “You’re a gut man, Paul Byler. I’ll suggest the boys come to see you later. Caring for those pigs might be just the thing to perk them up.”
So he’d gone home, though he wanted to stay and speak to Sarah. Mammi hadn’t said how she was doing. Paul thought of her soaking his shirt with her tears, and he vowed he would find a way to make her smile again.
It was just before lunch when Mateo and Isaac showed up to check on the pigs.
“Where’s Luke?”
“Helping Henry take apart the tractor engine, though it doesn’t need it. Henry’s fascinated with mechanical things.” Isaac had picked up a stick, and he despondently struck it against the ground.
Mateo sat down on an upturned feed pail and stared at his shoes.
The two had obviously been dwelling on what had happened. Paul’s heart ached for them, but he also understood the wisdom of what Mammi had said. An afternoon’s work wouldn’t take away their pain, but it would at least distract them for a few hours.
So he set them to cleaning the pigs’ pen. He also sugg
ested they raise the water buckets that were attached to the side of the pen. “These pigs are growing faster than I can keep up with.”
After they had done that, he thought they would come and find him, but they didn’t. He finally went to the pigpen to check on them. Mateo was sitting on the ground, giving the smallest pig a belly rub. Isaac was whittling on a stick with a pocketknife.
It was a beautiful April day.
There had to be something he could do to raise their spirits. Suddenly he remembered something he’d seen in a back stall of the barn.
“I could use your help with one more thing.”
Isaac shrugged and Mateo stood up, but neither showed much enthusiasm. When he led them to the back stall and began pulling out fishing gear, he finally got their attention.
“Where did this come from?”
“It was left here.”
“So it’s yours?”
“I bought the place. Anything on the premises automatically became mine.”
“You need our help cleaning up this stuff?” Isaac frowned at a tackle box that he’d opened. It was a real mess. It almost looked as if someone had turned it upside down.
“Sure. That would be gut, but I was sort of hoping you could help me catch some fish.”
Isaac’s head jerked up. “I thought you needed to check the crops.”
“Ya, I do need to do that, but it will keep until next week. Today I have a hankering for fried fish. Think Mammi knows how to cook it?”
“Mammi can cook anything,” Isaac said, walking over to the fishing poles and choosing a plain bamboo one.
Mateo looked less convinced. “I’ve never fished before,” he admitted.
“No? Then today is a gut day to learn.”
Paul sent the boys to dig up some worms while he fetched three cans of soda, a jar of peanut butter, and half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t the best lunch, but he supposed that didn’t matter as much as raising their spirits. He placed everything inside a medium-sized cooler and took two small ice packs out of his tiny freezer. The ice packs went on top of the drinks.
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