Redeeming Grace and the Prodigal Son Returns

by Emma Miller

  He had called Peters again before heading home from Elkhart, letting him know what he had found. The FBI agent would put his findings together with the information other agents had been able to gather on the Chicago end. They were closing in, squeezing a tight circle around South Bend. That had to be where Kavanaugh’s new headquarters were. Peters told him the feds would be making their move soon, and then Bram’s job would be over—as long as the cops were thorough this time and the gangster didn’t slip through the cracks. Another day or two and he’d call Peters again, just to see what progress had been made.

  Meanwhile... He smiled, enjoying the thought. Ja, meanwhile, once they got Kavanaugh out of the way, he could stay right here. No more FBI, no more Mexico on his horizon, no more running, just the sweet anticipation of courting the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He’d start by asking her to a picnic with the children at Emma Lake.

  The first thing Bram saw when he turned Partner into the Stoltzfus barnyard was Reuben working in Ellie’s strawberry field with a singletree plow. What happened to the strawberries?

  Ellie came out of the Dawdi Haus to greet him as he tied his horse to the hitching rail.

  “Good afternoon, Bram.”

  It was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms, but he settled for a brief touch on her shoulder.

  “What’s Reuben doing with the plow?”

  “Ach, the cows got into the field yesterday and ruined anything that was left.”

  Her voice was flat with discouragement.

  “You’re not planting more right away, are you?”

  “Ne. I can’t buy more plants now, even if I thought they might survive. Dat’s planting buckwheat.”

  Bram nodded. Buckwheat grew quickly, and they’d be able to harvest it before frost, even with this late planting. He glanced at the clear blue sky and amended his thought—they’d get a harvest if the rain came.

  “The worst part...” Ellie lowered her voice as she walked with him into the shade of one of the maple trees. “The worst part is that I won’t be able to pay you back as soon as I hoped.”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “But I do. I hate being in debt. I have to save for next year’s taxes, but I will pay you back.”

  “Ellie, I said don’t worry about it. I’m not worried. Everything will work out.”

  “That’s what Mam always says.” Ellie looked away from him, watching the dust cloud behind Reuben’s plow.

  Bram reached up and turned her chin toward him. “Your mother is right, as usual.”

  Her expression was solemn. He longed to kiss her cheek. Maybe that would force her into a smile. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat.

  “I came to ask if you’d like to have a picnic on Sunday—you and the children. We could drive over to the lake, and the children could go wading...” He stopped as she looked away from him again.

  “I don’t want the children to be a burden to you.”

  “Your children are never a burden.” He waited until she looked at him again, then smiled and stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb. “I never regret any time I spend with you or the children. Being with the four of you for a day is the nicest thing I can think of.” He took Ellie’s hand in his and turned it over, stroking her palm with his finger. “I want to take you on this picnic. Please come.”

  She hesitated for a long minute. He enfolded her hand in his, longing to be able to pull her into his embrace. He stole a glance to her face. The worry line was there, her lips drawn into an expression of doubt. Confusion. Something still stood between them.

  “I...I can’t, Bram. It isn’t fair to...” She stopped, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “It isn’t fair to whom, Ellie?”

  She whispered the answer. “To me. To the children. The more time we spend together, the more they like you, and the more they’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

  “What if I told you I wasn’t going anywhere?”

  “What?”

  “My job is almost finished, and I thought maybe I’d stay on.” He smiled, anticipating the pleased look of surprise he’d see in her eyes, but instead her worry line deepened farther.

  “Stay on? Do you mean as part of the community?”

  “Ja, sure.”

  “Become a member of the church?”

  Bram shifted and looked away. He hadn’t thought about joining the church since his brief conversation with Bishop Yoder. Was he ready to take that step?

  “I...I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Ellie pulled her hand out of his and took a step, putting distance between them.

  “I’ve let myself become too close to you, Bram. I can’t keep being friends with someone who’s a nonmember.”

  “And if I never joined the church?”

  She lifted her eyes to his, her voice a whisper. “Then I can’t see you anymore.”

  Bram swallowed and looked to the sky. How was he supposed to handle this?

  “Give me some time, Ellie. I need to take care of this thing with Kavanaugh.”

  “And then what?” She gave him a trembling smile. “After you take care of this problem, what comes next? You look like you’re Amish, Bram, but you’ve never left the Englischer behind. What if you’re never ready to submit to the church?”

  Bram tore his gaze away from her clear blue eyes. She was right. He felt like swearing, but could only accept her words. If he couldn’t submit to the church, everything he had come to treasure here would slip through his fingers. Even Ellie. Even the children.

  But to join the church, to agree to live by the Ordnung, to give up his freedom, his independence...

  Did she know what she was asking him to do?

  “If it was Levi Zook standing between us, I’d fight for you. I wouldn’t give up until you chose one of us, and then I’d abide by your decision. But this...Ellie...You’re asking me to give up everything.” He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck.

  She looked at him, her eyes wet. “Sometimes Gott asks us to give up what we hold dear in order to give us the better thing He has for us.”

  Bram shook his head. “I don’t know if I can believe that.”

  “You can trust Gott, Bram.”

  Could he trust God that far? He wasn’t sure.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bram left the house the next morning with a check of the clear blue sky. Another day with no rain meant the crops would continue to suffer. He glanced at the cornfield on his way to the barn, but there was little change. The seeds had sprouted, but by now the plants should be almost a foot high, with bright green leaves reaching upward. Here it was nearly the Fourth of July, and the plants were barely six inches high, dull leaves hanging from the fragile stalks.

  He harnessed Partner and hitched him up to head to the telephone exchange in Topeka. He was itching to find out if Kavanaugh was in custody. If the gangster was out of the way, he’d be able to settle into his life here—but what kind of life would it be?

  Little spurts of dust rose with Partner’s hoofbeats in the empty road as the relentless question echoed in his mind. Ellie was right—if he stayed here, he’d have to make a decision to either join the Amish church or leave it. How could he make a decision like that?

  At the corner ahead, a buggy turned onto his road, trotting fast. As it drew closer, Bram saw that Matthew was driving. He pulled Partner to a halt when the two buggies met.

  Bram’s gut wrenched when he saw Matthew’s haggard face. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

  Ellie...

  “Matthew, what’s happened?”

  “It’s Hezekiah Miller. He’s missing.”

  “What do you mean, he’s missing?” Elderly Amishmen didn’t just disappear.

 
“Amos Troyer went this morning to help out and found Miriam beside herself. Hezekiah never came in from doing his chores last night.”

  “I’m on my way over there. Where’s Ellie?”

  “She and Elizabeth went to Hezekiah’s as soon as they got the news. I’ve got more families to tell, and then I’ll be down there.”

  Bram gave a brief nod goodbye in return to Matthew’s and then slapped the reins on Partner’s back. The gelding set off at a fast trot.

  Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Bram thought of all the possible reasons for Hezekiah’s disappearance. If it was any of the other farmers, he might have thought the old man had decided to take a walk around one of the fence lines in the evening, but as crippled as Hezekiah was, he wouldn’t go farther than the barn itself. Not alone. Not willingly.

  He chirruped to Partner again, even though the horse was keeping up his steady, fast pace. Where had they looked already? Bram went over the farm in his mind, glad he had been there often enough in the past two weeks that it was familiar. It was only ten acres, not so large that Hezekiah could get disoriented and lost. The creek had steep banks—could he have slipped down them? He’d make sure someone looked there. The woodlot wasn’t big, but it was dense with undergrowth. Another place to make sure of. The barn itself? It was fairly small, but there were still places to look.

  Bram pulled into the small farmyard, glad to see it crowded with buggies. The people had come together in this crisis, as they always did.

  A couple boys had been given the job of seeing to the horses. Bram handed Partner’s reins to one of them, then strode to the house, where he saw the men and older boys gathering around the back porch.

  John Stoltzfus nodded as Bram joined the group, his mouth set in a firm line. Almost every man from the church was here. Bram nodded to Jim Brenneman, Ellie’s Englisch tenant, while John organized the searchers.

  “Amos already searched the barn and farmyard this morning, before sending for help. We’ll divide the rest of the farm between us. Look in all the fencerows, ditches, anywhere he may be lying hurt.”

  John sent a grim look around the circle of faces and then nodded to Bishop Yoder, who stood at the edge of the circle. The old bishop lifted his hands, shaking with palsy, to bless the men as he prayed. The rhythm of the Deitsch words flowed over Bram, giving him strength and confidence. With God’s help, they were sure to find Hezekiah.

  Before joining John and his boys as they headed to the east fence line, Bram glanced toward the house. Ellie stood in the doorway, holding on to the frame as if it were her lifeline. He caught her eye and nodded, giving her a smile that he hoped would be reassuring. She returned his smile with a worried one of her own and disappeared into the kitchen.

  * * *

  Ellie turned back to the kitchen and joined Mam at the counter, where she prepared chicken casseroles for the men who would be hungry at dinnertime. Ellie prayed it would be a celebration dinner as she chopped stalks of celery for the casseroles.

  Miriam stood at the counter next to her sink, where she could watch the fields through the window while she kneaded bread dough. She seemed calm, but her movements lacked the smooth efficiency that was normal for the older woman.

  Ellie remembered her own panic when Daniel was lying in bed, hurt, while she sat helpless at his side, waiting through that long day only to face his death at the end. Miriam must be feeling the same thickening of her throat, the same telescoping of sight to that last glimpse of her husband, and yet she continued to knead the dough until it was nearly overworked.

  Ellie’s eyes blurred as she concentrated on the knife and the celery. What would any of them do without Hezekiah?

  Mam put two large casseroles into the oven and went over to Miriam while Ellie washed up at the sink.

  “Come, Miriam, the bread has been kneaded enough. Let it rest now.”

  Mam took Miriam’s hands in her own and handed her to Ellie. The older woman’s eyes stayed fixed out the window, but she was as compliant as Susan when Ellie washed her floury hands at the sink while Mam covered the dough with a damp towel.

  “Let’s have another cup of coffee while the dough rises.” Mam got three cups from the cupboard. “Ellie, can you pour us all a cup?”

  Ellie led Miriam to a chair at the kitchen table. She had seen Mam do this same thing many times during a crisis. Keep things as normal as possible. Keep the conversation going. Anything to keep Miriam’s mind off what the men were doing, what they might find or if they never found anything.

  “I won’t be able to go on without him.” Miriam’s voice was edged with tears, and Ellie stifled a sudden sob. The last time she had heard Miriam’s voice like that had been the evening of Daniel’s death, when the waiting at his bedside finally ended. Ellie’s heart chilled at the thought of the lonely night vigil Miriam had just spent waiting for her husband to walk through the door, a vigil that had only ended with Amos’s arrival in the morning.

  “Ja, you will. Gott will give you strength.” Mam’s words were solid ground in this miserable morning.

  “They’re sure to find him soon, with all those men searching.” Ellie tried to sound hopeful, but Miriam didn’t seem to notice she had spoken.

  “Ja, Ellie’s right. They’re sure to find him soon.”

  Miriam got up from the table to look out the window over the sink again. “Ach, if only I could help them.”

  Whatever happened with Hezekiah, Ellie knew she couldn’t let Miriam stay on the farm without some help. The men of the church had been faithful in coming to help with the work, but even that hadn’t prevented this accident.

  Ellie looked at Miriam over her coffee cup as the older woman stood at the window watching the searchers for the first sign that her husband had been found. She rose to stand next to her, a woman as dear to her as her own mam. She put her arm around Miriam’s shoulders and supported her as the elderly woman leaned into Ellie’s strong embrace. They would share this vigil together.

  * * *

  Bram made his way to the woodlot growing on either side of the fence that separated Hezekiah’s farm from Ellie’s, the farm the Brennemans were renting.

  He eyed the brambles that grew at the sunny edge of the lot. Yellow jackets buzzed hungrily at the stunted black raspberries that covered them. It would take a determined man to break through that mess, and he would leave a trail. Hezekiah certainly didn’t have the strength to do it.

  Bram followed a path through the grass as it skirted the brambles and then stopped where it disappeared in a narrow tunnel leading into the trees. Could Hezekiah have gone in there?

  Looking around, Bram spotted Benjamin ten yards behind him.

  “Ben, over here.”

  “What did you find?”

  “Look here,” he said as Benjamin leaned down to look through the narrow opening. “Could he have followed a cow through there?”

  “Ja, I think so.” Benjamin pointed to a deep, cleft-hooved print in the long grass just outside the opening. “That’s not a deer print. If he was following a stray cow, he might have tried it.”

  Benjamin ducked and started down the narrow tunnel. Bram waited, listening to the sounds of the other searchers, praying they would find Hezekiah alive.

  “Here! Bram, in here. Hurry!”

  Bram echoed Benjamin’s shout to the other searchers, then followed the trail into the woods, ignoring the brambles that snagged at his clothes. He paused just inside the shadowed cover of the trees, letting his eyes adjust. The close, humid air pressed against him and hummed with mosquitoes.

  “Bram, he’s over here. I found him.”

  Benjamin knelt next to Hezekiah’s prostrate form; the old man’s body slumped over a fallen log. Adrenaline shot through Bram when he saw blood-matted hair on Hezekiah’s face. Kneeling next to him, Bram checked for a pulse. He th
anked God it was there, faint but steady.

  “Is he...”

  “He’s still alive.”

  “We need to get him to the house.”

  “Not yet. We need to see where he’s hurt first.”

  The thick air of the woodlot filled with voices as the other searchers joined them. One by one, the men fell silent as Bram checked Hezekiah’s arms and legs. The old man groaned when Bram turned his head to find the source of the bleeding. A cold shock went through him when he found the wound. That ugly bruise didn’t come from a fall—he had been hit by something hard.

  Bram spoke to John hovering at his shoulder.

  “We can move him, but we need to make a litter out of a blanket or something.”

  Two of the boys left the group. They would take the news to the house and fetch the blanket.

  “Will he be all right?” John’s voice was raspy as he looked down at his longtime friend.

  “I don’t know. It looks like he has a concussion, and spending the night on the ground hasn’t done him any good. He’s been eaten up by mosquitoes.” Bram looked at John. “He’ll need the doctor. Can someone fetch him?”

  “I will.” Mr. Brenneman spoke up. “I’ll take my car.”

  Bram supervised as Hezekiah was moved onto a blanket, but he stayed behind as the group took the elderly man into the house. There had to be clues to tell him what had happened here last night.

  He looked around to get his bearings. The fallen tree was in a low spot, near a ditch that might be a small stream in a rainy year. Bram walked around the log, outside the perimeter of where the group of men had been standing. He found the cow’s prints in the soft ground of the ditch and the print of Hezekiah’s work boot.

  Following the ditch farther along, Bram found what he dreaded. There had been two men in the woodlot, and judging from the footprint in a muddy spot at the bottom of the ditch, they weren’t Amish. That print had been made by someone wearing shoes, not work boots. Bram slipped his hand inside his pocket and grasped the reassuring handle of his pistol.