The Amish Heiress (The Paradise Chronicles Book 1)

by Patrick E. Craig

  Augusta scowled. “What precipitated this hasty action on her part, Gerald?”

  Gerald twisted his hands awkwardly. “She...she caught me messing around with Monique. I guess my infidelity meant something to her. She’s pretty upset.”

  Augusta raised her hand in a dismissive gesture.

  “It’s not something we need to worry about.”

  “Grandmother, that’s not all.”

  “Not all? What is it then?”

  “Rachel is pregnant!”

  “What?”

  Augusta stared at Gerald’s face. Despite the cold, he was sweating.

  “Rachel is pregnant.”

  Augusta looked at Gerald for a long moment and then slapped him, hard. The sound of her hand was like a whip crack. “You stupid fool! I told you to leave her alone.”

  Gerald rubbed his face and looked down. “When you told me that, it was already too late. She got pregnant in Capri. We only were together once...”

  Augusta stared at Gerald as he cowered before her.

  He really is a pitiful human being. If I could do this without him, I’d have Randall take care of him, too.

  She sighed and took him by the arm. “Come with me, Gerald.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Augusta put her arm around Gerald’s shoulders. “I just want you to know that you are very fortunate to have someone watching over your interests.”

  “What do you mean, Grandmother?”

  “I have already anticipated this situation and taken steps to remedy it.”

  Gerald stopped and pulled away. “Remedy? How can you remedy this? We’re in big trouble here. She wants to divorce me.”

  Augusta opened the stall door and looked up and down the hallway. The barn was quiet, except for the occasional nicker of a horse and the cooing of the pigeons huddled above in the rafters. She turned back to Gerald.

  “Our friend, Gordon Randall, and I have worked out a solution to all of our problems. He is coming for a brief stay. He will be here tonight. During that time you are going to be his assistant in facilitating the quick and unsuspicious demise of your obstinate wife.”

  “Assistant?”

  Augusta stepped up close to Gerald. Her voice was like icy daggers ripping at him. “Yes, assistant, you helpless little pipsqueak. You keep pushing me to get the money. Well, there’s only one way to get it, and you’re going to be in it up to your eyeballs. You’re going to poison your wife and we’re going to make it look like she got a very virulent form of A-Shanghai flu. It should take about five days. Dr. Schumacher will certify the cause of death, and her Amish relatives will never ask for an autopsy. They don’t believe in them. So Rachel will die, we’ll ship her back to Pennsylvania, and you will be the heir.”

  “But, what about the baby?”

  “Collateral damage. Can’t be helped.”

  Gerald looked about the room as if trying to see a way to escape. “Look, Grandmother, I don’t think I can go through with this.”

  “And why not?”

  “Something’s changed in my life. For the first time I’ve found a girl who is real, and pure, and honest. I’ve never known anyone like her. And now she’s having my baby. I can’t hurt her. I...I love Rachel.

  Augusta’s hand lashed out again and Gerald withered under the blow.

  “Now you listen to me, you weak little boy. If I didn’t need you I would have figured out a way to take care of you years ago, and you wouldn’t be the first St. Clair I’ve dealt with.”

  Gerald went pale. “What do you mean, I wouldn’t be the first one?”

  “That, my dear grandson, is none of your business. As far as Rachel is concerned, I want you to understand something. Your life is worth nothing and you are standing on very shaky ground. I want that money and I want it now. That means Rachel has to go. If you mess this up, I will see you dead before you touch another dime of St. Clair money.”

  Gerald tried to take a stand. “You won’t kill me, Grandmother, you need me. You can’t get the money without me.”

  Augusta laughed out loud. “You’re a fool, Gerald. The difference between you and me is that I see the whole picture, and I make preparations for the future. You’re just a grasshopper, living from day to day. Do you really think that I don’t have other options—that I have put all my eggs in the untrustworthy basket named Gerald St. Clair?”

  She laughed again. “If you think that, you really are a fool. Now, if you want to live, you’ll come with me and not say another word. And tomorrow morning you will begin the treatment that will resolve our dilemma. Do you understand me?”

  Gerald’s face was white. Augusta patted him on the face, but it was still a slap. “Gerald, my foolish, foolish boy. You need to understood how far your grandmother will go to achieve her purposes. Augusta could see the fear in his eyes.

  He capitulated. “Yes, Grandmother.”

  Augusta smiled sweetly. She patted his face again. This time it was a caress. “That’s better, dear. You just trust your devoted grandmother, and we’ll see to it that you’re well taken care of.”

  She took Gerald by the arm. Together they walked out of the stall, down the hallway and out through the big doors.

  *****

  The barn was silent for a few minutes, and then the door of the tack room next to the empty stall, where Augusta and Gerald had been, creaked open. Daniel peeked out and then slipped out of the room and walked quickly through the barn and out the back door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Key

  Jenny Hershberger stood at the window of the little blue farmhouse in Paradise, Pennsylvania. Outside, gray clouds scudded across the sky, signaling the coming of another storm. The chill wind had piled the snow from the last nor’easter high along the fences that marked the lane leading out to Old Leacock Road. Bare, brown trees painted with white frost lined the lane. A pine siskin sat on a branch of the dormant plum tree by the porch, waiting for someone to replenish the seeds in the bird feeder. Its chirping did not dispel the gray clouds, but it seemed oblivious to that and continued singing its plaintive song. Pennsylvania lay in winter’s icy grip, but for Jenny, the winter was in her heart.

  The sound of someone tramping onto the porch drew her away from her vigil, and she looked out the half-circle window that graced the one hundred-year-old, handmade door. Bobby Halverson was out on the porch stomping the snow off his boots. His old dog, Rufus, whined and fussed, anxious to get inside out of the cold. Jenny opened the door and motioned them both in, but not before an icy blast chilled the air in the entryway. Rufus trotted past Jenny and headed straight to the fireplace where he lay down as close to the burning logs as he could. Jenny looked up at her old friend. Bobby reached out, and then Jenny was inside the circle of his arms, weeping.

  Bobby patted her awkwardly on the back until her sobs stopped. Jenny pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. She smiled at Bobby. “Sorry, Uncle Bobby. I’m still pretty umkippen over everything that’s happened with Rachel. Come in and sit down. I’ll get some coffee.”

  From the kitchen, Jenny saw Bobby sit down in a chair close to the fire. He held out his hands to the warmth. Rufus looked up and whined again. Bobby patted him on the head. “Yes, boy, it is cold. Our old bones can feel it today, can’t they?”

  Rufus inched closer to Bobby and put his head up for more rubbing. Jenny found Bobby sitting there, staring into the flames and absentmindedly stroking his dog when she returned with two mugs of steaming coffee.

  “Sugar and cream, just like you like it, Bobby.”

  Bobby took the proffered mug and spoon and stirred the coffee a few times. Jenny sat down on the couch that was pulled up close to the fire, and the two sat there for a while, sipping the hot brew.

  “Where’s Jonathan today?”

  Jenny sighed. “He’s lying down. He got another migraine. They pretty much knock him flat.” There were a few moments of silence, and then Jenny spoke again. “Bobby, what am I g
oing to do?”

  “Have you heard from our girl?”

  Jenny sipped her coffee as she stared into the fire. “We heard from Rachel right after she got married. Gerald was taking her to Europe on a honeymoon. Her letter sounded cheerful enough, but I know my daughter. Underneath the excitement about going abroad, there was uncertainty. I think she was realizing what a mess she has made of her life. Jonathan was glad to get the letter, but the next day, he was in one of his moods and sent it back with a note reminding Rachel that she was under the bann and that we could not communicate with her. We haven’t heard from her since.”

  Jenny got up and went to the window again. She looked out on the snow-covered yard. The past few months had taken their toll. She could see herself reflected in the glass, and there were new wrinkles in her once-smooth skin.

  I’m aging every day. My hair is turning gray...

  She turned back to the fire. “I feel old, Bobby. And I can’t get anything done. I just stand here at the window, hoping I will see Rachel trudging down the lane carrying some sick animal she wants to take care of, or coming home from schule with an exciting discovery to share with me. It’s a good thing it’s winter and everything is on hold. If I’m like this in the spring, this farm will fall to pieces.”

  “What about Daniel King?”

  “No one has heard from him. His daed came by after Daniel left. They had an argument over Rachel, and he thought Daniel might be staying here. I guess Rachel sent Daniel a letter and Daniel responded. He’s such a good boy and he’s loved Rachel since they were little, so he isn’t about to let the meidung keep him from looking after her. Jonas tried to get Daniel to forget Rachel, but Daniel loves her too much. Daniel was very upset by the letter and worried about Rachel. He just packed up his clothes one morning and left. I think he followed her to New York.”

  Jenny set down her cup and put her face in her hands. After a moment she looked up at Bobby. “What has happened to my life? It used to be so peaceful here. The three of us were together on the land. We were always happy and Rachel loved her papa so much. I felt every day that du leiber Gott was walking with us, guiding us, and leading us. Then Jonathan disappeared and we went home to Ohio. And then Mama and Papa died. And when Jonathan came home, everything was different. It just seems that the Lord is so very far away. I don’t know what to do...”

  Jenny’s voice trailed off and silence filled the room.

  Bobby sat for a long time and then he spoke. “You don’t sound like the Jenny Hershberger I know.”

  Jenny looked up in surprise.

  Bobby went on. “The Jenny Hershberger I know has never ever quit, or whined, or complained. She takes the good with the bad and somehow finds a way to overcome all obstacles. And for an old agnostic like me, the one bright spot in my own search for meaning in life has been to watch my Jenny standing strong in her God. You’ve changed, Jenny. It seems like you stopped trusting God when Jonathan came home. You started trying to do everything on your own. I don’t know much about how God works, but what little I do know about Him, I learned from your dad and mom and you and Jonathan. I know this is a long speech for me, but don’t you think you should ask Him what to do instead of coming to a broken-down old Marine who can only shrug his shoulders when you ask?”

  Jenny sat with her mouth open, staring at Bobby. He smiled and reached over to pat her arm. “Didn’t expect that, did you? I’m just trying to say that it seems like you’ve given up on life. Why, I remember that when hard times came, the first place your mama, Jerusha, went was to her knees. I’m just making a suggestion that you might have gotten away from the source of your own strength.”

  Jenny sat for a long time and then she smiled back at Bobby. “Uncle Bobby, I didn’t know you knew so much about our faith. You’ve always said that it was good for us, but you weren’t interested.”

  Bobby ran a hand through his thinning hair and took a sip before he answered. “Look, Jenny. I never said I wasn’t interested—I’m just kinda slow when it comes to these things. But I have learned this. You can’t hang around Christians for the better part of your life without something rubbing off. I’m in my 80s now, and when you get to be my age, you start to understand that you are closer to the end than the beginning. I’ve seen enough to know that you can’t wait to be a deathbed penitent, because you never know when you might come face-to-face with your own mortality. You would think I might have learned that in World War II, but somehow I forgot.”

  “Uncle Bobby, you sound like you have made some kind of decision...”

  “Well, we will talk about that later. Right now, I want to know what you are going to do to get yourself out of this funk.”

  Jenny stood up. “You are right, Uncle Bobby. Sie schlagen den Nagel auf dem Kopf.”

  Bobby smiled again. “So I hit the nail on the head, eh?”

  “And you’ve picked up a little German along the way, also?”

  “Some.”

  Jenny went and knelt by Bobby’s chair and put her arms out. He reached out and put his arms around her. They stayed that way until she raised herself back up.

  “You are right, Uncle Bobby. I’ve forgotten about prayer. I’ve been so focused on keeping everything organized that I forgot I’m not in charge. The Lord showed me that a long time ago when I was trapped in that cave waiting for my papa to come for me.”

  A voice behind them spoke. “I was there, too, Jenny.”

  Jenny looked around.

  Jonathan was standing in the doorway. “I remember how it all happened. God kept showing Himself to me through miracle after miracle. The way I came to Apple Creek and met you, the way we rescued you from the gang that was chasing me, the way we found your birth mother; those were the things that opened my eyes to the truth that I needed Jesus in my life.”

  Jonathan walked into the room and came around the couch to face Jenny. “I haven’t been a good husband or a good father for a long time, Jenny. I’ve been using my injury as an excuse to withdraw from you and Rachel. Now Rachel’s gone because of me. Before I met Jesus, we used to laugh at Christians and tell them to stop beating us with their Bibles. Now I realize that is exactly what I’ve been doing to Rachel. The Ordnung does not save us. I used to know that, but somehow I forgot. I need your help, wife, to remember.”

  Jenny took Jonathan in her arms. Her heart went out to the gentle man who had suffered so much.

  Then Jonathan stepped back and looked into Jenny’s eyes. “I want to share something I believe the Lord showed me today when I was reading.”

  He went into the bedroom and came back with his Bible. He motioned Jenny to the couch and sat beside her. He opened the Bible and began to read: “Proverbs 12:25 says, ‘Anxiety in the heart of man causes depression, but a good word makes it glad.’”

  Then he turned to another section and read again: “Philippians 4:6-7 says, ‘Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.’”

  Jenny looked wonderingly at her husband as the Word sank into her heart.

  Jonathan put the Bible down and took Jenny’s hands. “I’ve been acting like some kind of a religious zealot. I’ve been strutting around, spouting the rules and there has been no place for grace in my heart. I have forgotten the way Gott has worked in our lives to restore our family. I have been depressed and I didn’t know why. And then I read these verses and it became very clear to me. I’m anxious—anxious about everything. I’m afraid that I’m going to lose my mind or have a stroke or worse. And that has been making me depressed. And then I get verrückt, crazy and cranky and...oh, Jenny, I’ve been miserable to live with.”

  Tears welled in Jenny’s eyes. She reached out and softly touched the cherished face.

  “But then I read the last part: ‘...a good word makes the heart glad.’ And then I remembered Philippians: ‘Be anxio
us for nothing...’ The Bible tells us, commands us, not to be anxious.”

  Jenny went on for him, quoting the beloved verse. ‘“...in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”’

  Jonathan nodded. “Yes, Jenny, don’t you see? We haven’t been praying and it’s my fault. I’m the head of this house. I need to lead you in prayer. And we need to make our needs known to God, with thanksgiving. And then we will have the peace that we need.”

  Jenny sat in amazement, looking from Bobby to Jonathan. And then, in a moment of understanding, she knew that God was working in her life once again. Another favorite scripture came to her mind. She spoke it softly. ‘“I will enter His gates with thanksgiving in my heart; I will come into His courts with praise.”’

  Jonathan looked up. “Yes, Jenny, that’s it. He’s given us the key all along. He wants us to come into His presence and He has shown us the way. Prayer, thanksgiving, and praise will lead us right into His throne. Oh, Jenny, I’m so sorry.”

  Suddenly Bobby laughed out loud. “Hallelujah!”

  Jenny and Jonathan stared at him.

  “I feel like I’m in a revival meeting. It hasn’t been like this in this house for a long time.”

  As Jenny sat there in the glow of what God was doing, a picture came to her mind. It was the second time she had remembered the Key, the one her mama had sewn almost prophetically into the Rose of Sharon quilt...

  “...You do not know which pieces of your life you will discover tomorrow, but they are there, determined by die Vorkenntnisse des Gottes. He has already planned them. Now let me show you one more thing as a reminder.”

  Jerusha moved the quilt until the rose was under her hand.

  “Look! Do you see it?”

  Jenny looked, and there it was! Sewn into the center of the rose—the small, key-shaped piece of red silk so finely stitched that it was almost invisible. Jerusha smiled. “The Lord had me add it to the quilt so that we would always remember...”