by Mary Ellis
“Say, I’m looking for the Matthew Miller Horse Rescue Society. Have I found the right place?”
Matt dropped his brush into the bucket of sudsy water and pivoted around. He recognized immediately the grinning face of the local veterinarian. “Dr. Longo, what are you doing here? Did my pa call you?”
“Nah, I heard about what you did in Sugar Creek and thought you might need some help.” Longo rested one boot heel on the fence rail.
Matt tried not to let his face give away his disappointment. Farm calls by veterinarians didn’t come cheap, and as vets were concerned, Longo was the best. Buying the herd had already crimped his budget, so he couldn’t afford treatments and therapies. Especially as they didn’t exactly own Kentucky Derby bloodlines. “That’s mighty nice of you to stop by, but I’m in no position…”
“I cleared my schedule for today and brought everything we might need, including boxes of pharmaceutical samples that those salesmen keep dropping off at my office. The only payment I will accept is a sandwich at lunchtime and, if I’m still here, maybe supper with your family. Nothing else.” He held up both palms.
Matthew pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his untamable hair. “Shucks, I couldn’t let you do that. You haven’t even seen the state some of these critters are in. I’ve got cracked hooves, mange, and infected fly bites. And that’s just what we can see.”
“In that case, I better get started if we plan to turn any of them around by winter. You’re not the only horse lover in this county, Matt. It would be my pleasure to support your project.”
“Then it’s time you know who’s responsible. Henry, come on up here.”
Henry had been pretending he wasn’t listening while working knots out of a mare’s mane. He shuffled over to the fence, looking shy and somewhat nervous.
“Henry is my new partner in equine rehabilitation. Buying these eleven challenges was his idea.” Matthew slapped Henry on the back.
“Danki for coming out to help us today.”
Longo gazed skyward at a crystalline blue sky dotted with lace-work clouds and then looked from one Miller to the other. “On a day as gorgeous as this? I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it.”
November had a bad reputation for cold, damp, rainy weather. Even a snow flurry wasn’t out of the question. And overnight frost was practically assured. So when Leah received the subpoena to appear in district court, she wasn’t surprised when the weather turned dismal to reflect her mood.
She had had three weeks to consult an attorney. Or prepare financial statements to support her innocence in the crime of tax fraud. Or at least discuss the matter with her former business partner, April Lambright. Yet she had done none of those things. She had no money for lawyers and neither did her parents after they had generously paid off the remaining names on her list. She had no financial records to assemble because the books for Leah’s Home Cooking had never been available to her. And she wasn’t about to call April from the neighbor’s phone and voice her grievances where she might be overheard.
If the rumors flying around Holmes County were true, and April meant to dump the legal matter of sales tax evasion into her lap, she had no documentation to support her side. She had only the truth. And it would have to be enough. She would attempt to convince the court she had no culpability in April’s crimes. But if the judge saw things differently, she would face the consequences.
Since she’d received the subpoena, her parents spent their days casting her sidelong glances with exaggerated sighs. They didn’t understand the legal system any better than she. Their questions haunted her for days: What if Mrs. Lambright doesn’t tell the truth? What if you’re sent to jail? What if the state demands immediate payment in full for tax money owed?
What if…what if…what if?
Leah had had enough of suppositions and fear. She would leave the matter up to God. He who had the power to create heaven and earth, to right every wrong, had this matter under control. Leah wasn’t blameless. If she deserved to go to jail for being irresponsible, then so be it, but she wouldn’t spend another day fretting as though she had no faith. So when the day of her court hearing dawned sunny and bright, reminiscent of September’s pleasant weather, her spirits lifted. Dressing in her Sunday best, she waited down by the road for Mrs. Lee to pick her up. She’d insisted that her parents not come along. Her father would be mortified with shame, while her mother would wring her hands with worry throughout the ordeal. She hadn’t been a child when she entered into the partnership, and she wasn’t a child today when she would face the music.
During the drive to Millersburg, she felt only mild car sickness from an empty stomach. Somehow mamm’s lumpy oatmeal hadn’t appealed to her at six o’clock in the morning. As Mrs. Lee fiddled with the radio buttons, Leah tried to distract herself from queasiness by thinking about something else. Memories of Jonah Byler returned—unbidden and unwarranted. Jonah. She’d neither seen nor heard from the blue-eyed dairy farmer whom she’d once considered her future husband. He certainly wasn’t in Wisconsin anymore. And he’d surely heard about the unfortunate turn of events by now.
She really couldn’t blame him. How many Amish fellows wanted a fiancée on her way to prison? Let’s plan for a wedding next winter, Jonah…before spring planting and right after I’m released on parole…
Leah laughed at her absurd thoughts.
Mrs. Lee glanced over. “I’m glad you thought of something humorous, my dear. Other than prayer, keeping your chin up is sometimes all you can do.”
“You’re right. If there ever was a time for a stiff upper lip, this is it.”
The neighbor reached over and squeezed her hand. “At least it will soon be over. Are you sure you don’t want me to wait with you until your case is called?”
“No, the hearing is more than an hour away. You can run your errands and still be back in time. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to testify on my character or not, but I’m glad you’ll be in the courtroom.”
“I’ll find a way to get my two cents in. I’ve watched every Perry Mason rerun at least five times.”
Leah didn’t know who Perry Mason was, but she doubted he would be much help today. After Mrs. Lee dropped her off in front of the district courthouse, some of Leah’s confidence evaporated. The one hundred-thirty-year-old structure with patina copper dome and soaring white columns seemed far too imposing for a simple Amish girl. With the directions on where to appear clutched in her hand, she climbed the steps to face her future. Upstairs at the end of the hall, she saw the one person she hadn’t considered facing today…April Lambright.
Looking very thin, April’s eyes seemed to grow larger in her pale face. “Oh, Leah!” she exclaimed. Within seconds she had crossed the polished wood floor and thrown her arms around Leah’s neck. She hugged and squeezed so tightly Leah couldn’t draw breath. Over April’s shoulder, she saw a middle-aged woman in a gray wool suit and high heels sitting on a bench. When Leah met the woman’s gaze, she rose to her feet. “Hello, Miss Miller. I’m Mrs. Daws, April’s attorney.”
Leah couldn’t reply since April was squeezing her neck so hard speech was impossible. When April released the hug, Leah murmured to the lawyer, “How do you do?”
Then April grabbed her hand. “Please come with me. I want to talk to you. There’s a room we can use before we go into the hearing.” April pulled Leah into a small chamber with four plastic chairs and a wooden table. The lawyer returned to the bench and didn’t follow them in. Once they sat down, Leah extracted her hand from her former partner’s and cleared her throat. “Why, April?” she asked. “How could you tell people that Leah’s Home Cooking was my restaurant? That I was responsible for all the shenanigans?”
April’s face turned paper white as she stared down at the table. “I’m so ashamed. I have no excuse other than I panicked when my husband confronted me. I was afraid he would divorce me and take away my children, so I blamed you. And once my pack of lies began I didn’t know how to s
top. I was ashamed to admit to my parents and sister that they were right all along—that I had no business running a restaurant without previous experience.”
Leah sat so stiffly in her chair her back muscles began to spasm, but she remained silent.
“Once the story—my web of lies—began to circulate I despised myself. I had broken the ninth commandment: Thou shalt not bear false witness.” When she lifted her face, the toll of guilt and anguish was evident. “So I told my husband and family the truth and begged to be forgiven. I called my lawyer and told her what I’d done. She said it wasn’t too late to make things right.” April once again reached for Leah’s hand. “Please forgive me, Leah. I beg you. I will clear your name in court and eventually pay back everything I owe.”
“It’s too late. The damage is done.” She had allowed her hand to be enveloped, but felt no warmth, no mercy for the deceitful woman.
“I will testify that you only cooked and that I handled all financial matters. My lawyer says this is a preliminary hearing to determine if there was intent to defraud the state. If the judge feels I had no intent to avoid taxes, they may drop the charges. Then an independent accountant will determine how much is owed, and I would pay that amount along with penalties and fines.” A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
“How in the world do you plan to do that? Give me another list with my half of the debt? I have no more money.” Leah felt an uncharitable surge of anger.
“No, of course not. My sister and her husband have come forward to help. She said she’d never thought I would work so hard or that the diner would do so well. She felt proud of us, and she wants to keep the restaurant open. She has paid Mr. Jenkins for the back rent. Once we have straightened out the tax issue, she intends to buy out your investment and become my new partner. My brother-in-law will handle the books, and I’ll get a very small salary for a long time to come.” April’s moist eyes glowed with hope and promise. “Even my husband supports this idea. He says it’s my chance to fix the mess I caused. I’m just so glad he’s talking to me again!” Tears slipped from her lashes and trailed down her face. She made no effort to wipe them away.
“I’m happy for you about the new developments,” said Leah, only she didn’t feel happy. She felt smug and judgmental and mean spirited. Why should April’s woes melt like butter on a hot griddle while Leah’s life had been ruined? April wouldn’t even lose the diner after all because her family had rallied to her aid.
Leah’s cynical tone of voice hadn’t been lost on April. “I’m sorry for what I have done. I hope you believe that, and you will one day find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Leah stared out the window’s wavy glass where sunlight streamed through into refracted prisms. Then in a soft voice she chose to open her heart. “It’s not that I don’t forgive you; I do. I believe you’re sorry and that you hadn’t meant things to turn out like this. But please excuse me if I don’t clap my hands with joy that you’ll still be able to save the diner. My problems aren’t so easily fixed.” After the truthful admission, Leah felt her anger dissipate.
“But my lawyer prepared a statement that I have signed and will be submitted in court. I take full responsibility and release you of any culpability. Although you must appear with me in court, most likely you won’t be asked to testify. When I’m called before the judge I will accept the consequences for my actions.” April inhaled deeply and then released her breath with a whoosh.
“It’s not money nor my future obligations that worry me. I wasn’t even afraid to go to jail. April, my name and reputation have been ruined. Despite what you say today in court, many people will choose to believe ill of me. I will be shunned, if not by the ministerial brethren, at least in people’s hearts. My Jonah…the man I’d hoped to marry…has already forgotten me.” Tears she’d held at bay for so long began to fall. Leah laid her head down on her forearm and allowed misery to wash over her.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Leah. I wouldn’t be so sure.” April wrapped her arm around Leah’s shoulders in a tender embrace and stroked the back of her head.
Leah was too weary to resist comforting or to remain angry or even to care much about her future. When the attorney knocked and entered with several pieces of paper, she signed her statement with only a cursory read-through. Soon after that, the bailiff arrived and announced it was time for the two former partners and Mrs. Daws to enter the courtroom. Other cases had been heard, settled out of court, or continued to another day. Leah uttered a silent prayer for strength and forgiveness as she walked in at April’s side.
To her amazement, the courtroom was filled with people while others stood along the back wall. She spotted Mrs. Lee sitting directly behind the carved polished banister that separated onlookers from participants. Mrs. Lee lifted her hand in a friendly salute, as though greeting someone at the mailbox. Emma’s bright grin caught Leah’s attention next. Her sister was sitting next to her husband and his brother Kevin. James Davis smiled and winked at her. His suntan was long gone now that he wore a hat whenever he was outdoors. With a gasp, Leah noticed that Plain folk had crowded into the last four rows of seats. They nodded and offered smiles of encouragement. She even spotted Anna Boyer from the quilting bee with her beau, Aaron, the picnic table craftsman. Anna waved like a tourist while Aaron held both thumbs high. With the debt paid, all seemed to have been forgiven.
Leah felt weak in the knees, as though her legs might buckle. Her district had come not to condemn but to support her. Mrs. Daws steadied her arm and led her to the defendants’ table. As Leah took her place behind her chair, a man in the last row rose to his feet. He was tall and held his black felt hat between very large hands. With an olive complexion and the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen, Leah stared into the face of Jonah Byler—the love of her life. Her heart swelled inside her chest until her ribs began to hurt.
When an elderly, gentle-faced judge entered the courtroom, the bailiff called the room to order. As Leah took her seat, she knew she could handle any outcome, any punishment. For the next fifteen minutes, Mrs. Daws read both April’s and Leah’s statements and presented the signed affidavits from those who had been paid back and no longer wished to press charges. Surprisingly, even Whip Jenkins had signed a document that all back rent had been paid in full. April was called to the stand and kept her word about taking the blame. Leah did not have to testify, although she wouldn’t have minded doing so. Jonah was no longer in Wisconsin or at home, but in Millersburg where she needed him. With Jonah in the courtroom, sitting only a few rows away, she had the courage to handle anything God placed in her path.
She could barely sit still as the judge reviewed the documents in evidence and then called April to the bench. He read a lengthy list of terms and conditions, but all charges would be dismissed in six months if April fulfilled her obligations to the Sales Tax Division for the state. He then suggested she change the name of the restaurant to April’s Home Cooking and that she hire a good accountant. He also mentioned he’d eaten at the diner once and hoped pineapple pancakes would become a permanent item on the breakfast menu.
Pineapple pancakes! Leah thought. It takes all kinds, doesn’t it?
Leah had been absolved of any culpability. Her name had been cleared. The clapping and shouts from the back of the courtroom, highly unusual for Amish folk, attested to their support. After thanking Mrs. Daws and hugging April with every ounce of strength she had, Leah walked from the courtroom to the crowd waiting in the hallway. Their trust lifted her heart. She thanked each person for making the trip to Millersburg…and for believing in her.
Finally it was over, and she hurried outside with Emma, Jamie, Kevin, and Mrs. Lee. The members of her district had gone out the back to where their horses and buggies were tethered. Only one Amish man remained on the courthouse steps. He sat leaning against a tall white pillar as though he was just another tourist taking in the Millersburg sights.
“I’ll wait for you in the parking
lot, dear,” said Mrs. Lee. “It looks like someone wants to speak with you.” She leaned over to kiss Leah’s forehead.
“We’ll wait there too,” said Emma, “but something tells me you won’t need a ride home.”
After thanking them, Leah went down the steps with legs that had turned to jelly. “Jonah Byler, what brings you to town today?” she asked with feigned casualness. “How were things in Wisconsin?” She tucked her skirt beneath her and sat down on the concrete steps. Below them on sidewalk and streets, pedestrians and vehicles went about their business unaware her heart was slamming against her ribcage.
Jonah sat down beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders as though mere hours instead on several weeks had separated them. “Wisconsin was just fine. My uncle and I got the farm shipshape after we brought in the harvest. He should be able to manage for the winter while his back finishes healing. By spring, his sons will be that much older and able to help more with planting.” His eyes sparkled with animation.
“How long have you been home?” she asked, focusing on two pigeons fighting over a piece of popcorn.
“Almost a week now. My dawdi had plenty of chores for me when I got back. I thought I’d never get caught up.” He gently squeezed her shoulders and then released her. “Didn’t you get my letters?” he asked with a curious expression. “I was hoping you would have written back. I was mighty lonesome in Wisconsin. All my old friends have gotten hitched and forgotten about me.”
The squabbling birds no longer held her interest. “You wrote to me, Jonah? I never received any letters.”
“Twice. I sent them to Leah Miller, Route 585, Winesburg, Ohio.” He turned on the steps to face her. One lock of dark hair fell forward into his eyes.
Leah felt the seed of hope take root. “I know it’s confusing, but everyone on our end of the township road has Wilmot addresses, and considering how many Millers there are in the county, I’m not surprised they never found me.”
