Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3)

by Patrick E. Craig

  Bobby stepped up close to Samuel Lapp and looked him in the eye. The little man’s outburst faded to nothing as he looked into Bobby’s eyes.

  “Mr. Lapp, I think you’ve seen this look once before today, and it should tell you something. Do not mess with me. My best friend and his wife are lying in this hospital near death, and my witnesses tell me that you had a hand in them being here. So I would keep your little outbursts to yourself. Understood?”

  Lapp hesitated and then nodded.

  “Now that we are clear on that, let’s get down to brass tacks. My witness says you smashed a pole or a board on Reuben’s back while he was trying to help the horse, and knocked him down into the train’s path. Is that true?”

  “Who is your witness?”

  “Jenny Hershberger.”

  “Oh, ja! Jenny Hershberger. The woman who consorts with reprobates and writes trash—”

  That was as far as Lapp got. Bobby stepped up and took him by the lapels of his coat.

  “Lapp, you are making me very angry. So I’m telling you one time and one time only. Reuben may not have done violence to you today, but there’s no Amish bishop around to keep me from slapping you into next week. And Bull here happens to be a friend of Jenny’s too, so I imagine that any action I performed on you would go unreported. Am I right, Bull?”

  “Just as long as you give me a shot at him when you’re finished, Bobby.”

  Lapp wanted to say something, but the determined look on Bobby’s face made him think better of it.

  “Now, I’ve known Jenny Hershberger since she was a little girl,” Bobby said. “She may be headstrong, but I have never, ever known her to lie. I trust her word implicitly. You, however—I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. So open up, or bishop or no bishop, you’re going to be spending some time in the Wooster County Jail.”

  “All right, Sheriff. Since you put it that way, I will cooperate. When the accident happened at the train crossing, I was trapped in the wreckage. The impact knocked me out for a few minutes. When I came to, Springer was bending over me and pulling on me. I wasn’t thinking right, and I thought he was there to hurt me. I got frightened and tried to protect myself. He shoved me down, and I thought he was going to beat me, so I grabbed a piece of the buggy and…and I hit him.”

  “That’s not what I heard, Mister Lapp. I heard that you came up behind Reuben while he was trying to get the horse up, and you cracked him a good one across the back of the head. And given the way you’ve talked about Jenny, and the look in your eye while you’re telling your story, I say you’re lying.”

  “How dare you say such a thing—”

  “Because you are lying,” said a voice behind them.

  They turned to look. It was Amos Stutzman.

  “I can’t do this any more, Samuel,” he said. “You’ve been a liar since you were a boy. I used to back you up because you were the bisschop’s son, and there were certain rewards for faithful followers. Even when your lies drove Jeremy King from the church, I backed you up. After all, what did it hurt except a man’s reputation. But this, Samuel! You have been part of injuring a man and his wife, and they might die. I want no more of it.”

  “You’ll keep quiet if you know what’s good for you,” the bisschop said.

  “Or what? You’ll kick me out of the church? After I say my part, you won’t have the authority to kick anyone anywhere.”

  Amos turned to Bobby. “I wasn’t telling the truth when you questioned me, Sheriff. I was awake when Reuben came. He was trying to help, but Samuel is such a coward. He knew he was guilty of hitting Jenny Hershberger without provocation. He grabbed her and was hurting her. She slapped him, and he knocked her down. A grown man hitting a woman…shame! And then at the train tracks, when Reuben tried to help him, Lapp went crazy. He grabbed Reuben, but Reuben pushed him away so he could save the horse.”

  “Don’t believe him, Sheriff! He’s lying to save his own skin!”

  “Shut up, Lapp,” Bobby said. “When I want something from you, I’ll tell you. Go on, Mr. Stutzman.”

  “When Reuben pushed Samuel away, he knocked Samuel down. Then Reuben turned to help the horse. Samuel snuck up behind him. I saw his eyes. They were burning with rage. He grabbed the piece of wood, struck Reuben, and knocked him down on top of the horse. The horse kicked Reuben and knocked him out cold. Mrs. Springer came running and tried to pull her husband away. Samuel saw the train and ran away—such a coward!”

  Amos turned to Samuel Lapp. “You’ve always been a bully and a coward. I curse the day I ever met you. You caused these people to be hurt, and I hope you pay the price for it. As for me, Sheriff, you can do what you want with me. I’m just glad to be clean and free from this hypocrite.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Stutzman,” Bobby said. Then he turned to Lapp.

  “Bishop Samuel Lapp, I’m arresting you for assault with intent to cause grave bodily injury. If my friend dies, you will be facing much worse. Bull, get him out of my sight.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  One Heart—Two Lives

  THE ROOM WAS DARK EXCEPT for the glow from a small lamp on a stand in the corner. The soft beeping of the heart monitors was the only sound. Jenny dozed in a chair by her mother’s bed. Jerusha stirred and groaned, and the soft sound brought Jenny back to wakefulness. She had been dreaming about her childhood—images and flashes of riding on her Papa’s shoulders, standing in the kitchen watching her mama make a streusel cake, flying up high in the swing her papa had made in the big willow tree by the creek. The dream had been filled with joy and peace, with nothing of the trauma of her earliest childhood, before she came to live with Jerusha and Reuben.

  Now she rubbed her eyes and looked at her parents. They lay still, resting. Jerusha held Reuben’s hand in hers. They had been that way since the doctors moved them to this room.

  Earlier in the evening, Reuben’s breathing had become labored, and the doctor put him on oxygen. The tubing in his nose and the large bruise obscured his face, but he was still beautiful to Jenny. She longed to feel his arms around her, to see the smile behind his eyes one more time. Then Jerusha stirred again.

  “Jenny?”

  Her mama’s voice was weak, almost a whisper.

  “I’m here, Mama, how do you feel?”

  “Better, I think.”

  “Do you have any pain, Mama?”

  “Some, but its bearable. How is Reuben?”

  “He has never awakened. They put some tubes in his nose earlier, and his breathing is easier. Oh, Mama, I’m so afraid.”

  Jerusha lifted her hand and placed it in Jenny’s. Jenny could feel her mother’s heart beating through her fingertips.

  “Jenny, I want to tell you something.”

  “What, Mama?”

  “I want to tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you. You have been the most wonderful daughter a woman could ever have.”

  “Even when I went my own way and brought trouble to our home, Mama?”

  Jerusha smiled. To Jenny, it was like sunlight breaking through the trees on a soft summer morning.

  “Your papa and I loved all your ways, Jenny. You brought such joy to us. And when you came to the trials in your life, it only made your papa and me better people as we learned to trust our Gott to bring you through.”

  “Mama, do you know something?”

  “What, dochter?”

  “When I was searching for Mama Rachel, it was never because I wanted her to be my mama. It was just that I felt incomplete not knowing who I was. You were always my mama. And I remember one day when we were in New York and Uncle Bobby told me that Joe—the bad man who hurt Mama Rachel—that he was not my father. I knew then that Papa was mein Vater and that he always had been mein Vater, and that I could never have another.”

  Jenny felt Jerusha give her hand a squeeze.

  “Jenny, I’ve loved you as though you were from my own body, as though you had grown inside me and I had given you birth. It was al
ways as if I had two daughters that were my own flesh and blood—Jenna and Jenny. And du leiber Gott did that. You were ein Geschenk vom Gott to Reuben and me.”

  Jerusha closed her eyes.

  “Rest, Mama. I’m here with you.”

  It was early in the morning. A faint light came through the window. Jenny stirred in her chair, and then she felt a light touch on her shoulder. She opened her eyes. Bobby Halverson stood beside her.

  “Uncle Bobby, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Bobby gave Jenny a gentle squeeze. “How are they, Jenny?”

  “I don’t know. Mama and I talked a little last night, but Papa hasn’t stirred.”

  Just as they were speaking, Reuben gave a slight groan. Bobby and Jenny went around to his side.

  “Papa? Papa, can you hear me?”

  Reuben’s eyes slowly opened. He saw Bobby and Jenny standing there beside the bed.

  “Hello, my friend,” he said, lifting his hand.

  Bobby took Reuben’s strong hand in his. Jenny saw a look pass between them, a look that only men who have shared the most terrible trials and the greatest friendship can know. Then Reuben released Bobby’s hand and took Jenny’s. Jenny looked into Reuben’s wonderful eyes, the deep sea-blue eyes. The old smile was there behind them, the smile that had been a light to Jenny all her days. He looked over at Jerusha as though to assure himself that she was still with him. Then he pulled Jenny close.

  “Jenny, my precious girl.”

  Jenny felt Reuben’s breathing begin to slow—one breath, another and then…nothing. “Papa! Papa!” Jenny called, “No!”

  Alerted by her cry, a nurse hurried into the room and checked Reuben’s pulse.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hershberger…he’s gone.”

  Jenny’s eyes lifted to the monitor above Reuben’s bed. The steady beep and the little blip on the screen continued unabated.

  “But nurse, his monitor…”

  The nurse looked up with surprise. “But he’s gone…I…”

  And then she looked and saw that Reuben’s hand was still clasped in Jerusha’s. “It’s your mother’s heart, beating through him, Mrs. Hershberger. It’s like they have one heartbeat.”

  Yes! Of course they do. Two lives, one heart. My mama and papa…

  Jenny looked at Bobby. A tear ran down each of his cheeks. Slowly he came to attention and saluted his fallen comrade. He held the salute for a long time. Then he took Jenny into his arms, and the two of them cried together.

  A few minutes later, Jerusha spoke.

  “Yes, husband, I’m coming.”

  Her eyes opened, and she looked at Jenny and Bobby, who stood by her bedside.

  “Take care of my girl, Bobby. She will need you.”

  Jenny slipped to her knees by Jerusha’s side. “Mama, please…don’t go.”

  The sweet hand that had comforted Jenny as long as she could remember reached out and softly stroked Jenny’s cheek.

  “I won’t say do not grieve, Jenny. I know you will. But I must go. Reuben is waiting for me, and Jenna too. And we will wait for you. Always remember that I love you.”

  Jenny looked at Jerusha.

  “Mama, please…”

  Jerusha smiled at Jenny and then closed her eyes. Jenny could hear the monitor beeping, marking the beat of Jerusha’s heart, and Jenny remembered how safe she felt in every storm when her mama held her close. Her mama’s heart.

  She heard the monitor beep once, twice, and then it stopped.

  Jerusha was gone.

  A nurse came rushing in, looked at the monitor and called the doctor. They gathered around Jerusha. Finally Doctor Beck turned to Jenny and Bobby.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hershberger,” he said, the words coming at her from a long way away and echoing strangely as though she were in a long, dark tunnel.

  Bobby arranged for an ambulance to take the bodies back to Apple Creek. Bruder Johann brought three men, and together they stripped the Springers’ front room of all furnishings. Then they placed two sets of sawhorses in the front room and set coffins on them. Johann’s wife and several women came to help Jenny. They washed the bodies and prepared them for burial. Jenny brought out Jerusha’s simple wedding dress for her to be buried in. As she lay on the bed, she looked beautiful and at peace. Then they were placed in the two coffins, side by side. The coffins were simple, handmade by Johann himself, out of pine. They had no handles or veneer and no padding inside.

  For the three days before the funeral, a steady stream of people passed through the room to view the bodies. The Amish people of Apple Creek, Dalton, and Wooster passed silently. They didn’t show any emotion or grieve openly, but as Jenny watched from the kitchen, she could tell by the looks on their faces that the whole community was in shock. When Bruder Johann and his wife came, they stood silently by the coffins for several minutes. Jenny sat with Rachel at the kitchen table. Johann came in, and she could see strong emotion working in his face. He placed his hand on Jenny’s shoulder.

  “Your papa and mama will be missed by more people than you will ever know,” Johann said. “They were a blessing to all who knew them.”

  Jenny reached up and patted Johann’s hand. “Thank you, Bisschop.”

  In those three days, she did not see Bobby Halverson. She knew him to be a man who did not express his emotions very well, so she understood his reluctance to come. There were so many thoughts and images swirling in her mind. She found it almost incomprehensible that both her parents were gone. On the second day, the postman brought a special delivery letter to her. It was from Jeremy King. She opened it with trembling hands.

  My Dearest Jenny,

  I have heard from Sheriff Halverson about the passing of your parents. I am deeply saddened for you. I know how close you were to them. If there is anything I can do for you, please contact me. You have my phone number. I will be praying for you and Rachel.

  Your friend,

  Jeremy

  At one point, when Jenny was overcome by grief, she went out alone to the orchard and stood among the trees that her Grossdaadi Hershberger and her daed had planted. It was late spring, and the apple blossoms filled the air with a sweet perfume. All around Jenny, the farm burst forth with new life. In the fields, the winter wheat was turning to gold. It stirred and flowed like the sea as the spring breeze passed over it.

  Like the sea—the sea that took Jonathan. How is it that death can come in the midst of such life? O Lord, I do not understand Your ways.

  And then a quiet voice spoke in her spirit.

  My ways are not your ways, Jenny. They are beyond your understanding. But know this: My grace is sufficient for you.

  The words were not a comfort, but they strengthened Jenny. She walked on. Here was the field where she had dislocated her ankle and her papa came and found her; here was the barn that she had hidden in on long summer days, dreaming of the future and wondering what it held for her; and here was the path to the creek where she had fished for crawdads and come home muddy and happy to her mama’s waiting arms.

  Unable to remedy the disconsolate feeling in her heart by wandering among these precious places, she returned to the house and went to her room. Mrs. Troyer had taken Rachel for the afternoon when they left, and now Jenny was alone. She sat at the desk and ran her hands over it. This was the desk that Reuben had made, so simple and yet so gracious—every piece fitted perfectly and the surface sanded to such a fine grain that it was almost soft to the touch. She took out her book and began to write.

  Jerusha stood on a high cliff. Clouds billowed all around her, but she was not cold. She heard the sound of footsteps and she turned. Someone was walking up the hill toward her through the mist. For a moment she was afraid—and then she saw him. It was Reuben!

  He came slowly up the hill until he stood beside her. He took her hands in his, and she looked into his eyes—the wonderful sea-blue eyes that drew her into him, the eyes that she loved. She could see the smile behind them, and she felt the fiercenes
s and the gentleness of his love for her. The strange feeling came over her that always happened when she was with him, as if she were falling off a high hill. But now they were on the hill together and she was not falling. He smiled at her.

  “I love you, Jerusha. I always have, and I always will.”

  Then Jerusha heard a voice. It was a child’s voice, calling to her with joy.

  “Mama! I’m waiting. Come up, come up!”

  She knew that precious voice. It was Jenna! She looked at Reuben and saw the light in his eyes and the joy on his face. Together they stepped to the edge of the precipice. She looked at him again. “Don’t be afraid, my dearest,” he said, and then they stepped off into the air. She was not falling. Instead she began to rise with her beloved, up, and up, and up into the light.

  “The Day My Mama Died”

  from the journals of Jenny Hershberger

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Third Day

  ON THE THIRD DAY AFTER the passing of Reuben and Jerusha, the Amish community of Wayne County, Ohio, came together to bury the Springers of Apple Creek. Jenny got up before dawn and opened the windows and doors to the cool morning breeze. Rachel was asleep, and no one else was with them. Jenny went into the front room to look upon her beloved mama and papa one more time as they lay in their coffins, together in death as they had been in life.

  As the light began to soften the horizon, the day seemd to pause with a cool stillness that heralded a beautiful sunrise. A songbird ventured forth with his lovely trilling. Then suddenly, a small breeze began to rustle the curtains on the front windows, and the room was filled with the wonderful scent from the lilac bush by the front porch, sweet and heavy—her mama’s favorite. It was as though Jerusha had come to say goodbye. Jenny almost felt her presence, and she could hear Jerusha’s words to her.

  “I cannot say do not grieve, Jenny. I know you will. But I must go. Reuben is waiting for me, and Jenna too. And we will wait for you. Always remember that I love you.”