by Leslie Gould
“What time is your appointment?” Mom asked.
“I told him I couldn’t get there until five fifteen or so.”
“How long will it take?”
“Probably not long. Maybe a half hour. I’ll get a ride home with Dad.” He knew his joining the Amish hadn’t been easy on his parents. He’d expected his father, especially, to give him grief about his decision. But he hadn’t. Zane’s situation was definitely an easier transition than that of others who’d joined the Amish—and he only knew of a few—but still it was a big change.
Traffic slowed as they reached Lancaster, but then Mom turned onto a side street and zigzagged her way through town, probably a route she took when she was running late to the hospital. She stopped across the street from the center.
“Thanks,” Zane said, jumping down. He couldn’t imagine how he would have survived the last two months without his parents. He stopped on the top step of the old brick building and checked his boots for mud again. They weren’t bad. He pushed open the heavy wooden door, let it swing shut behind him, and hurried up the narrow staircase. It turned out Brad was still with another client. Zane sat down and waited, thumbing through a news magazine as he did. He read through the current events—more fighting in the Middle East, both in Iraq and Syria. He said a prayer for Simon. Thankfully Casey was back in Texas.
Then he flipped to the back of the magazine to the movie reviews. He hadn’t heard of any of them. He tuned out when the Englisch guys at work talked about what they’d seen over the weekend. It didn’t interest Zane anymore. He flipped back to the book reviews—he hadn’t heard of any of them either. He hadn’t been to the library since Lila’s accident, and probably wouldn’t be any time soon. He doubted he’d get back to volunteering at the fire station for a while either. He knew Charlie understood.
The truth was, everything had changed because of Lila’s accident. He wondered if the man who hit her had any idea what the consequences had been.
A few minutes later, a middle-aged woman with red eyes came through the waiting room and went out the door. Zane didn’t want to speculate what her worries might be. Everyone had a sad story. Usually more than one. He knew that.
Zane still hadn’t said anything to Tim—or Gideon—about talking with the lawyer. He figured they both had plenty to deal with right now. He’d broach the subject soon though.
A few minutes later Brad appeared. “Come on back,” he said.
Zane followed him and sat down. The shades over the windows were up, showing the dark sky behind them. Zane took off his gloves and wiggled out of his coat.
Brad smiled. “I still can’t get used to you dressed that way.”
Zane nodded. “It’s a little hard for me at times too.” He hoped his voice sounded light and jokey, but he doubted it.
“How is Lila?” Brad asked.
“Good. She’s getting around on crutches. Doing therapy. She’s moving along.”
“Anything new from the doctor?”
Zane shook his head.
Brad opened a file and put on his reading glasses. “The sheriff reopened the case. The new investigation shows that it’s unlikely, based on where the buggy ended up, that the horse veered to the left.”
“Great.” Reuben had told Zane at church on Sunday that he’d done some measurements, ran some numbers, and then talked with the sheriff again. “Lila found out something that might help too.” He told Brad about the SUV that appeared to be the same type that hit Lila being down the next road, to the right, from the accident. “Perhaps the driver was getting ready to turn right and then got distracted.”
“Or maybe he was on a call. Or texting.” Brad sighed. “I’ll ask for his phone records.”
“Good idea,” Zane said. “Can you get his address? Just in case it’s the same SUV?”
Brad flipped a few pages back in the file. “What road did you say it was?”
“Derry Road.”
Brad looked up. “Bingo.” He twirled his pen around his finger.
“Maybe he’d just moved there, from Ephrata.” That was the address listed before.
“Probably,” Brad said. “This is coming together. If the driver hadn’t told 9-1-1 and others at the accident scene that the horse had pulled in front of him, none of this would have happened. He’d told enough people that they were repeating it by the time the police arrived.”
Zane asked, “So the insurance company will go ahead and pay the medical bills?”
Brad wrinkled his nose. “I wish it were that easy. The insurance company will open a new investigation. Mr. Addison will be interviewed again and so will Lila.”
“Then what?”
“Depending on what they find, we may be able to arbitrate. Normally, both parties would have insurance companies representing them. In this case, Lila could have me. If she chooses.”
“But if she doesn’t win, then we’d need to pay you, right?”
Brad shook his head. “Not necessarily. Let’s see what the other investigator comes up with and go from there. I won’t do anything you’d have to pay me for without running it by you and Lila first.”
“She won’t like any of this. Another investigation. Negotiating. Any of it.”
“It’s part of life.” Brad tapped his desk with the pencil. “The investigation won’t be a big deal. She’ll be questioned at home. If it goes to trial, it will be at the courthouse. That might feel like a big deal.”
Zane leaned forward. “Trial? Why would it go to trial? The evidence seems solid.”
“Well, if the police actually charge the driver with negligence, that will help, but there’s no indication they plan to. His insurance can still claim Lila was at fault, if that’s what their investigation shows. They might be hoping that her church or fund or whatever will just pay the bills to keep her from having to sue the driver.”
“She’d be suing the driver—not the insurance company?”
“Yes,” Brad answered. “The insurance company represents the driver.”
“But the company would pay, if Lila won?” His heart sank as he asked the question. No one would agree to this. Not Lila. Not Tim. Not Gideon.
“Yes, the company is the one who pays.”
Zane thought of Lila’s description of the man’s home, of the bicycle and sandbox. It sounded as if he had quite a bit of responsibility.
Brad turned back toward Zane. “We’ll just take it a step at a time and see what happens. I need to meet Lila soon though—to see if she actually wants me to take her case.”
“All right,” Zane said. “I’ll talk with her.” He thanked Brad and said he’d be in touch soon. As he left the office he wiggled back into his coat and then hurried down the stairs and out into the cold. Lila had been so quiet lately. Most likely she was depressed. He didn’t blame her, but it was hard to get her to talk about how she felt. She seemed worse in the evening, probably because she was fatigued.
He crossed the street and entered the Veterans Center, taking a deep breath as he hurried down the hall toward Dad’s office. He’d thought becoming Amish would make life less complicated, not more.
As Dad’s pickup came around the curve on Juneberry Lane and the house came into view, it looked like all the lights were on, welcoming them home. Then he noticed the buggy. He squinted in the dark, sure the horse was Billie. Dad parked and Zane jumped down, going over to the horse to say hello. Billie had a blanket on his back and nickered and rubbed his head against Zane’s shoulder. Zane scratched his ears and then his neck. He’d been boarding Billie over at the Lehmans’ barn as much as possible so that he’d be with the other horses.
“Who brought you over?” he asked. “Rose?” Maybe she had some questions for his mom. She must not have planned to stay long since she hadn’t put Billie in the barn.
Dad was already at the front door, opening it, when Zane started up the ramp. “Hi, Rose,” Dad said, as Zane caught up with him. She was sitting on the sofa next to the wood stove, staring into the l
ittle door that showed the fire.
Zane stepped toward her. “Rose? Are you all right?”
“Oh fine,” she said, looking up.
“What are you doing here?”
She nodded toward the kitchen. “Lila’s using the phone.”
“Oh?”
“Jah. She has a list of Butch Wilsons in Virginia that she’s calling.”
Dad gave Zane a funny look. “What’s going on?”
Zane sighed. “She’s trying to contact her birth father.”
Dad raised his eyebrows. In a low voice he asked, “Does Tim know about this?”
“I don’t think so.” Zane turned toward the kitchen.
Lila sat at the table with her crutches propped against the wall. She held the cordless phone to her ear. Then she said, “So sorry to bother you. Thank you for your kindness.” She hung up and placed the phone on the table.
“Where did you get the numbers?” Zane asked.
“At Eve’s. I used her computer. I found eight Butch Wilsons.”
“Any luck?”
She shook her head. “One number has been disconnected. One rang and rang. And I’ve left two messages so far. That’s the first person I spoke with. He sounded old.” She smiled. “I hope I didn’t confuse him too much.”
“You did fine,” Mom said from the stove, where she broke spaghetti noodles in half and dropped them in a pot of boiling water.
“I have three more to call, and then Rose will take me back home.”
“I’m going to wash up,” Zane said. “Don’t leave.”
She nodded as she dialed the next number.
By the time he returned, she was sitting in the living room on the opposite end of the sofa from Rose, holding on to her crutches.
Zane plopped down beside Lila but turned to Rose and asked quietly, “Did Trevor call you back?”
She shook her head.
He frowned and then said, “Things aren’t always what they seem. It might be best if you don’t hear from him.”
Rose shook her head again but didn’t say anything more. Zane wanted to give her a hug, but he feared that would only make things worse for her. He’d failed Rose, and he felt horrible about it.
He turned toward Lila. “I need to talk with you.”
“About?”
“All sorts of things. I spoke with the lawyer again.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“And other things.” He smiled.
“I want to get home.” Rose yawned. “I’m really tired.”
“I’m pretty tired too,” Lila said. “How about tomorrow?”
“All right. How about in the afternoon? I’m working half a day.” His company didn’t usually work on Saturday, but they were making up hours they’d missed earlier in the week. “We’ll go for a ride. We can talk about Christmas—and the other stuff.”
She hesitated, and for a moment he wondered if she was done with him. But then she said, “I’d like that.”
“Dress warmly,” he said.
“I will.”
“I’ll come by around three.”
“See you then.” Lila scooted forward on the sofa. Zane stood quickly, helped her to her feet, and handed her the crutches. She positioned them under her arms and made her way toward the door. He went ahead and took her cape from the coat-tree, draping it over her shoulders when she reached him.
Rose slipped her cape over her shoulders too and called out a good-bye.
“Bye,” Mom said, stepping to the kitchen doorway, a potholder in her hand. Zane wondered if Rose had said anything to Mom about being pregnant. He hadn’t told her, but Rose probably assumed he had.
He walked behind Lila down the ramp and then helped her into the buggy. “You have that intense look on your face,” Lila said, looking down at him from the bench. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shut the door securely.
When he reached the house, Dad, Adam, and Mom all sat at the kitchen table. “I’ll get something to eat over at my place,” Zane said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait,” Mom said. “I need to talk with you.” She and Dad exchanged a look, but then she followed Zane toward the front door. Both put their coats on and she stepped out onto the porch with him, under the light.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“With?”
“You and Lila. And her looking for her birth father.”
Zane didn’t know where to start, but he had to go ahead and tell Mom about Rose. Finally he said, “I don’t know what has to do with what, not exactly, but Rose is pregnant.”
“Oh, no.” Mom leaned against the railing.
“Yeah, but it gets worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“The father probably isn’t who you think.”
“Not Reuben?”
“No,” Zane said. “It’s Trevor.”
Mom’s face fell. “No.”
“Yes.”
“How did that happen?” Mom asked. “He said he wouldn’t spend time with her.”
“Apparently, they were sneaking around when Rose stayed with Lila.”
Mom grew pale.
“And even worse,” Zane said, “he hasn’t returned Rose’s message. It seems he’s abandoned her and the baby altogether.”
“I’m not surprised.” Mom crossed her arms. “How is Lila doing with all of this? The timing has to be painful.”
Zane blinked quickly. “I know. But I haven’t had a chance to really talk with her. I’m not sure how she’s doing.” He did know that she seemed to be shutting him out more and more. Hopefully the buggy ride tomorrow would give them time to talk things through.
“Give her time,” Mom said. “But be persistent. And challenge her not to withdraw. I’ve seen her do that before, and there’s more at stake now. She’s stronger than she thinks. She needs to know that.”
Zane nodded, but he wasn’t sure she’d listen to him.
The next afternoon Zane harnessed Billie to his buggy and then arrived at the Lehmans’ back door. Rose answered his knock. He asked how she was doing and she answered, “Fine.” But she looked pale. She didn’t motion for him to come in. Instead she stayed on the stoop of the back porch and asked, “Have you heard from Trevor?”
Zane shook his head. “Do you want me to call him?”
“No,” she answered. “I just wondered if he’d said anything.” She stepped aside and motioned him in. “Lila’s resting. I’ll go tell her you’re here.”
“Who else is around?” he asked, stopping at the kitchen table.
“No one. Beth took Trudy over to see our grandparents, and Dat’s out in the barn.” Rose kept heading toward the hall. “I’ll wake Lila.”
Zane took off his hat and had just sat down at the table when he heard someone at the back door. He stood, expecting Beth and Trudy, but it was Tim.
“So you’re taking Lila out for a ride?”
Zane nodded. “I thought some fresh air would be a good idea.”
Tim nodded in return, headed to the counter, and lifted the coffeepot off the back of the stove. “There’s some left,” he said. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure,” Zane said, thinking maybe it would take Lila a while to get ready.
Tim started opening cupboards. “I think there are some sticky buns around here too. Beth made them this morning.” On the third try, he found them and then dished two onto plates. He hesitated for a moment, smiled at Zane, and then added another sticky bun to each plate.
He handed them to Zane, grabbed two mugs, filled them, and then met Zane at the table.
The two men ate in silence at first. Tim seemed in a good mood, considering, but Zane couldn’t believe the man wasn’t upset with him. He thought for a moment that perhaps he should tell him about talking with the lawyer, but then decided not to. There was no reason to put him in a bad mood.
Finally Zane said, “I’m sorry about Rose. . . . I really am.”
“Jah,” Tim answered, “I know you are.”
“I had no idea Trevor and Rose were spending time like that.”
“You had a lot going on,” Tim said. “Rose and Trevor are the ones who are responsible. Although I’d just as soon he didn’t take responsibility.”
Zane gave him an inquisitive look, and Tim kept talking.
“I always felt it a blessing that Abra never contacted the father of Lila and Daniel, after . . .” His voice trailed off. He took another bite, chewed and swallowed, and then said, “That way there was never any threat of him coming back, of him ever wanting to have a relationship with the children.”
“Would that have been so bad?” Before the words were out of Zane’s mouth he regretted saying them.
“Jah,” Tim said. “It would have been bad. What if he’d wanted a custody agreement? Where the kids have to go back and forth? Can you imagine that happening with an Englisch family? How confusing that would be? How dangerous?”
Zane understood Tim’s reasoning, but he felt Trevor had a right to be involved in his child’s life. Plus, he should help support the baby. But he said, “I’m guessing Trevor will stay away. I think he would have called Rose back if he planned to take responsibility.”
Tim drained his coffee mug. “You never know what people will do, believe me.” He scooted his chair back. “If Rose hadn’t told Trevor, I think Reuben would be more likely to step up—like I did. But who wants the threat of a real father returning?”
Zane bristled at the word “real,” especially coming from Tim. But he didn’t say anything. He knew, deep down, Tim felt he was Daniel and Lila’s real father, even if he didn’t know “biological father” was the more accurate term.
Tim stood. “This will work out one way or another. I know Rose plans to go live with Eve and Charlie for a while, and that’s fine, but she’ll always have a place here, no matter what happens.”
Zane nodded. He knew Tim would take care of her and the baby. But Zane still puzzled over the situation. “May I ask you a question?”
Tim smiled. “Depends . . .”
Zane frowned.
