Amish Weddings

by Leslie Gould

  He’d been apologetic. Obviously he wasn’t that interested in her.

  The clear skies had held, and the day was warm. She had the horse hitched in no time and headed down the lane. By the time she reached the school, it seemed that she’d seen at least ten red sports cars. None of them was Trevor’s though. Thinking about him so much alarmed her. Was this how Dat felt about Beth? Was Rose accidentally falling in love with Trevor? She couldn’t let that happen, and yet she could feel her certainty about marrying Reuben diminishing each day. Perhaps she was only seventy percent sure now. The thought troubled her.

  She tied the horse to the hitching post and started toward the building. “You’re late.” Trudy stood on the top step.

  Behind her, Beth waited in the open doorway of the school. She waved at Rose and called out, “How is Lila doing?”

  “Gut,” Rose answered. Actually Lila seemed to be in a lot of pain still. It didn’t seem to be getting better, and she was taking as many pain pills as always. She said she couldn’t sleep without them.

  “How are you doing?” Rose asked the woman.

  “Fine,” Beth said, but she didn’t seem fine.

  Rose stepped onto the first stair and shot Trudy a questioning look, but her little sister just shrugged her shoulders.

  After stepping up another level, Rose asked, “What happened?”

  Beth shook her head.

  Rose raised her eyebrows.

  Beth paused a minute and then said to Trudy, “Go get your book to take home. You should be able to finish it tonight.”

  Once Trudy slipped back into the school, Beth said, her voice low, “A few weeks ago Gideon cautioned your Dat and I from spending so much time together.”

  “Oh.” It was as Rose suspected, but she was surprised that Beth and Dat would be caught off guard by Gideon’s warning. “I’m sorry,” Rose said. “I know how much you two . . .” She wasn’t sure how to finish her sentence.

  But Beth nodded.

  Again Rose wondered if Reuben had said something to his Dat. Sure, it would be perfectly acceptable within their community to be concerned. Dat worked for Reuben, and they were friends besides. If anyone should say something, it should be Reuben. But the thought of him doing so still troubled Rose. What was the harm? Dat and Beth knew they couldn’t marry. It was like Reuben to put his principles before people.

  “Is your Dat doing all right?” Beth asked.

  “A little quiet.” Rose wrinkled her nose. She’d noticed but hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to him.

  Trudy bounded back onto the porch, a book in her hand. She gave Beth a hug and then hurried down the stairs. Rose waved to Beth and followed Trudy to the buggy. Once she’d unhitched the horse and climbed up, Trudy asked her, “What’s wrong with Beth?”

  “She’s a little sad.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you know how she and Dat have been friends for a while?”

  Trudy nodded.

  “Gideon—Bishop Byler—doesn’t want them to spend so much time together.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they can’t marry.”

  “Do they want to marry?”

  Rose wasn’t sure. Perhaps, if Beth could, they might. But then again, she couldn’t imagine Dat marrying again. Almost all Amish widows and widowers remarried, and soon after their spouses died, but Dat had never seemed interested. Finally, Rose said, “I don’t know.”

  “Well,” Trudy said, “if they wanted to why couldn’t they?”

  “Because Beth was married before, and her husband is still alive.”

  “Oh.” Trudy bit her lower lip. Obviously all of them had failed to explain that to her, which wasn’t surprising. Sometimes Rose felt as if there were all sorts of things they hadn’t told Trudy that she might need to know someday. Information about their mother and her illness and why Simon joined the Army and why Lila didn’t marry Reuben. But all of that could wait until another time. Sometimes it felt like a relief to have one person in the family still innocent.

  Instead Rose said, “In the eyes of the church she’s still married to her first husband until he dies.”

  Trudy shifted on the bench. “So he didn’t marry anyone else?”

  “I don’t know for sure.” She had the impression he had. “But I know he left the church.”

  “Oh,” Trudy said, taking it in. “Did Beth want to leave the church?”

  Rose shook her head. “No, she didn’t.” Rose didn’t know that Beth’s ex-husband wanted her to leave though. She had the idea he left both the church and Beth.

  “Did you think maybe Dat and Beth would get married someday?” Rose asked, motioning for Trudy to scoot closer.

  Her sister nodded as she snuggled up against Rose. She hiccupped. Rose realized she was crying. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Trudy continued to cry. Rose wanted to also. Beth would add so much to all of their lives. Then she realized Dat probably felt the same. Did his heart ache for Beth the way Rose’s was beginning to for Trevor?

  11

  Zane stood beside Tim and held a lantern high as the veterinarian examined Billie’s foreleg. “The swelling has gone down. I’d say he’s going to make it.”

  “But will he be able to pull a buggy?” Tim asked. “Or will he be prone to reinjure it?”

  “Another injury will be a little more likely, sure,” the vet said, “but I think he’ll do all right. He should have several more good years.”

  Tim wouldn’t want Zane to keep the horse if it couldn’t pull a buggy. As gentle as he was with his cows, Tim was still practical when it came to animals. He wouldn’t condone keeping one around just to feed.

  “All right,” Tim finally said. “We’ll give it another week or so and see how he’s doing.”

  Lila would be heartbroken if Tim thought Billie should be put down. So would Zane and his budget. He already had to buy a new buggy—and perhaps with no insurance money to help.

  Zane continued to hold the lantern up as they all left the barn. “Thank you,” Zane said as they reached the door. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Ach,” Tim said. “I’ll cover it.” He turned toward the vet. “Put it on my bill.”

  “I will,” the vet said. He’d checked on one of the dairy cows too.

  Tim turned toward Zane. “Thank you for helping with the milking.”

  “Sure.” Zane had gotten off work early and knew Rose could use a break.

  “Could you listen to a message on the machine before you go?” Tim asked. “It’s about the accident.”

  “Oh?” Zane thought he’d given everyone his parents’ phone number, hoping they’d call there.

  “From the insurance company, I think,” Tim said. “Go listen to it.”

  Zane stepped into Tim’s office, wishing he’d told him earlier about the call. The agent had most likely left by now. Zane clicked the button on the machine. A man’s voice came on, identifying himself and the insurance company he worked with. Zane grabbed a pen. The man said, “After gathering more information from Mr. Addison, the driver of the SUV, and reading the police report filed by a Deputy Howell, I wanted to give you an update. Please call me back at your convenience.” He rattled off his phone number twice and then said good-bye.

  Zane scribbled down the number and quickly called the insurance agent back. He let it ring several times, expecting a voice message after each ring. He wanted to at least leave a message. He didn’t want to have to call back the next day.

  Just as he wondered if he should hang up, the insurance agent picked up and said hello.

  “Zane Beck, here. Calling back on behalf of Lila Lehman.”

  “Thank you,” the man said. “May I speak to Ms. Lehman?”

  “No,” Zane said. “I’m in her father’s barn, using the phone in his office. She’s in a house without a phone.”

  “I see,” the man said. “And you are?”

  “Her fiancé.”

  “I see,” he said again
. “You’ll still need to have her call me back. I can’t divulge any private information to you.”

  Zane exhaled sharply. None of this was easy. “How long will you be in your office?”

  “I’m on my cell. Call me any time.”

  “I should be able to get a phone to her within a half hour, at least.”

  “Perfect,” the man answered.

  Zane hustled out of the barn and jogged across the field. When he reached the little house, Rose and Reuben stood on the porch. At first, Zane felt relieved to see them together. He’d been worried by the way Trevor was looking at Rose the evening Simon and Casey showed up. After he called out a hello, he realized they were deep in conversation. It looked pretty serious. Reuben had his hat in his hands and Rose had her arms crossed.

  Reuben said a quick hello, but Rose didn’t say anything.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Zane said as he approached. “Is my mom around?”

  Rose shook her head. “She went home about twenty minutes ago. She was going to heat up supper and bring some over.”

  “Denki.” Not wanting to intrude, Zane started toward his parents’ place. “Tell Lila I’ll be over in just a minute,” he called over his shoulder.

  Rose sighed. “All right. And then I’m going home to get supper on the table for Dat and Trudy.”

  Zane waved to let her know he’d heard her, tipped his hat to Reuben, who nodded in reply, and then hurried over to his parents’ house. He opened the door, stepped inside, and found Trevor sprawled the length of the sofa, asleep, and Adam sitting in a chair, reading a book.

  “Mom,” Zane called out, veering off toward the kitchen. She stood at the stove stirring a pot of something. “I need to borrow your cell phone.”

  “What for?” Mom let go of the spoon and reached into her apron pocket.

  “So Lila can talk to the insurance agent.”

  She handed the phone to Zane. “Tell Rose I’ll bring supper over soon.”

  Zane nodded toward the living room. “What’s Trevor doing?”

  “Sleeping,” Mom answered. “And soundly. I dropped a cookie sheet and he didn’t even stir.”

  “But why is he here? Why didn’t he go over to Eve and Charlie’s?”

  Mom shrugged. “Ask him when he wakes up, but he probably feels more comfortable here, rather than hanging out with Eve until Charlie gets home.”

  That made sense. It also reminded Zane he needed to call Charlie and tell him he needed more time off from volunteering at the station. He wasn’t sure when he’d go back—it might be a long time. “Thanks,” he said, holding up the phone as he headed for the front door.

  He had to wake Lila up, which wasn’t easy. “How many pills did you have?” Zane asked as Lila rubbed her eyes.

  She shrugged. “Just one. The usual.”

  Zane held up the bottle. There were only a few left. He’d talk to his mom about renewing the prescription.

  “Babe,” Zane said, his frustration growing. “I need you to talk to the insurance agent. I’ll put the phone on speaker and take notes so we don’t miss anything.”

  “All right,” she said. “Help me with the backrest.”

  He adjusted it so she was reclining at an angle, the fixator jutting out in front of her.

  Zane pulled the slip of paper with the phone number on it from his pocket, dialed, and then put the phone on speaker. It rang twice and then the agent picked it up. Zane told him hello and then nodded at Lila.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “How are you doing?” the man asked.

  “Fine,” she answered.

  “Oh, good,” the man said.

  Zane winced. He’d believed her. “Actually, she’s not fine,” Zane said. “She has a crushed pelvis with a fixator bolted to her hip bones. Have you seen one of those before? It’s like a Frankenstein contraption. She can’t sit up straight. She can’t walk more than a few feet. No one would even use it as a torture device.” Zane’s frustration turned on the man. “Plus, she’s recovering from a ruptured spleen, a bruised bladder, a bruised liver, and a concussion.”

  “Oh, well,” the agent said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” He paused for a moment and then said, “I wanted to give you our update after interviewing Mr. Addison and examining his vehicle. And reading the deputy’s report.”

  Lila didn’t respond.

  “Are you there, Ms. Lehman?”

  “Jah,” she answered. “I’m just a little sleepy.”

  “Is this an all right time to talk?”

  “I think so,” she said.

  “Yes or no?”

  “Jah,” she answered. Zane wished she’d stop saying jah. It sounded so lackadaisical. Yes sounded much more precise.

  “Okay, then listen carefully,” he said. “We’ve come to the conclusion that your buggy veered out in front of Mr. Addison’s SUV, causing him to hit the back of your buggy. There was no way for him to avoid the collision.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You heard me.”

  Zane bristled again, his frustration turning to anger.

  “No,” Lila said. “I don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “Mr. Addison hasn’t changed his story, beginning with the 9-1-1 call. We have it as evidence.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not what happened,” Lila said, her voice soft and calm.

  “Pretty sure or sure? The police report indicated you were uncertain,” the man said. “And the report indicated”—there was the rustling of paper—“that you had a head injury from the accident, perhaps contributing to a cognitive issue.”

  “It was a mild concussion,” Zane corrected.

  “But can Ms. Lehman be certain she can remember the moments right before the accident? To know the horse didn’t cut in front of the vehicle.”

  “I remember being over as far as I could be on the road and then being hit from behind, and I remember going through the windshield, over the top—”

  “The police report corroborates Mr. Addison’s story.”

  “No,” Zane said. “It doesn’t.”

  “Pardon?” the man said.

  “The deputy believed the driver over Lila. That’s all.” Zane stood but leaned toward the phone on the table. “I think your client is trying to take advantage of Lila being Amish. And I’m guessing you are too.”

  “No, no, no, that couldn’t be further from the truth,” the man said. “And we could counter you’re trying to take advantage of a driver who happens to have accident insurance as opposed to the driver of the buggy who obviously does not.” Zane bristled. Was that how insurance companies worked? “We’ll be sending Ms. Lehman the cost of the repairs to Mr. Addison’s vehicle.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Zane said.

  “No, that’s the law.”

  “We’ll be contacting an attorney,” Zane said.

  The voice grew deeper. “I thought you just said Ms. Lehman is Amish.”

  “And that’s why you thought you could bully her?”

  “Of course not,” the man said. “But we won’t be paying for her medical bills or for the buggy. Like I said, she’ll need to pay for the repairs to Mr. Addison’s vehicle.”

  “Good-bye,” Zane said, hitting the End button and picking up the phone. “They’re bluffing,” he said, before Lila could respond. She appeared shell-shocked.

  “I can’t call an attorney,” she said. “That’s not what we do.”

  “I’ll talk to one and get some ideas.” Zane wondered where he’d come up with the money.

  Tears filled Lila’s eyes.

  “Don’t think about it,” Zane said. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “I don’t want the mutual fund to have to pay for it,” Lila said. “Not when I’m the one who was hit.”

  “I know.” Zane didn’t really understand the fund, except that everyone contributed to it to pay for medical expenses of people in the district. Lila’s accident certainly qualified, but the man’s insurance should have to p
ay for her medical care. And the buggy.

  Zane stumbled to his feet.

  “Are you mad?” Lila asked.

  “Of course not.” Zane stopped beside the bed even though he felt like running. He exhaled. It wasn’t her fault.

  “I’m sure I was over as far as I could be, that Billie didn’t pull to the left. There’s no way he could have. But the way the agent was talking, it makes me question myself.”

  “You’re a good driver,” Zane said. “I believe you. Keep believing yourself.”

  “Denki,” she said.

  “Dad has a lawyer acquaintance. He’s across the street from the Veterans Center—he’s a vet and helps other vets. I’ll see about talking to him.” He patted her arm and then put the phone on the table. “Don’t worry. Try to rest some more, until Mom comes over with supper.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m going to go work on the bathroom until then.”

  Lila already had her eyes closed as he walked away.

  As he sanded by hand, his frustration grew. He’d felt such harmony a year ago when he joined the church, standing in front of the congregation as he proclaimed, “I am a seeker desiring to be part of this church of God.” He knew seeking after God and Christian community were both lifelong endeavors. He knew life had its ups and downs. He just expected the downs to come a little later.

  He embraced the Amish, he really did, and he’d never felt such peace as the day he joined, such confidence that it was what God wanted him to do. But maybe the whole lifestyle thing wasn’t as doable as he thought.

  Lila’s injuries were worse than his had been when he’d been shot in Afghanistan, and her recovery would take much longer. He remembered the pain he’d been in and the meds he’d taken to get through it. He knew she had to be in horrible agony, probably far worse than she let on. Her body had been tossed from the buggy, then flung through the air, and landed in the creek with the horse on top of her. He shuddered. He hated to even think of it, to replay it in his head.

  If Lila had been in a car or pickup she wouldn’t have been hurt so badly. And if the Amish sued, the insurance agent wouldn’t be trying to bully Lila.