The Prodigal Son Returns

by Jan Drexler

  Had Bram found that man he was looking for? Fear wrapped its icy fingers around her heart. Bram was in danger.

  The girls hadn’t caught Dat’s tension. They chattered like birds as they played a game with Susan and Johnny in the backseat, Rebecca holding Danny on her lap.

  Did that man, Kavanaugh, have something to do with why Bram had left church so early? In fact, he hadn’t even looked at her all through the service. Ellie worried the inside of her lip. It wasn’t like him to ignore her completely.

  When Dat turned onto Bram’s road, Ellie saw Partner in the lane between the gravel road and Bram’s barn, but why wasn’t he tied? For some reason Bram had just left the horse unattended, and Partner had pulled the buggy partway into the grass. As she watched, Partner took another step toward the long grass at the edge of the cornfield and the buggy tilted, along with her stomach. Where was Bram?

  Dat pulled to a stop at the end of Bram’s lane and handed the reins to Ellie. “You take the children home. I’m going to check on Bram.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Dat looked at her, weighing his decision. Finally he nodded. “Mandy, you drive the buggy on home and look after the children.”

  Mandy gave Ellie a mystified look as she obediently climbed into Dat’s place and took the reins.

  “We won’t be long.” Ellie smiled at her little sister as she climbed down. “It will be fine.”

  Dat waited until Mandy had driven off before turning to Ellie.

  “There’s something going on, and Bram may need help. I’m going to check the barn.”

  Ellie followed Dat as he walked toward the barn, glancing into Bram’s buggy as he went.

  Ellie crossed the lane to the other side, where she’d have a clearer view of the barn door, and stopped short. There was an automobile parked alongside the barn, out of sight until she’d seen it from this angle. What was going on here? Her mind flashed back to Bram’s face when he had first told her about this man, this

  Kavanaugh. Could the automobile belong to him?

  Dat reached the barn and paused, leaning against the wall next to the door as if he was listening to something. What? Was there someone inside with Bram?

  Ellie’s stomach clenched.

  She could hear indistinct sounds from inside the barn. Men’s voices. She had to hear what they were saying.

  She slipped up next to Dat, and they both listened to the men inside the barn.

  “You’re tougher than I thought.” Ellie didn’t recognize the voice, but she didn’t want to meet the man it belonged to.

  “It’s no use, Kavanaugh. Peters knows where you are.” Bram sounded weary but not afraid. “I talked to him yesterday. He’s on his way here right now.”

  “Charlie, stand him up again.”

  There was a scuffling noise as Charlie obeyed the first voice.

  So there were at least two men in the barn with Bram.

  “Work him over some more. I have to know how much he told the feds.”

  A sickening sound filtered through the barn wall—the sound of something hard hitting flesh. Ellie’s head pounded, and the icy fingers tightened around her heart. That was the sound of Bram being beaten. Dat knew it, too. He gave Ellie a hard look that ordered her to stay back and then rammed his shoulder against the barn doors, forcing them open with a crash of splintered wood.

  The two men looked up, surprise and anger twisting both of their faces. Ellie took in the whole scene in one glance through the open door. Bram was pinned against a beam by a huge man, his face bloody and raw. He looked straight at Ellie, and fear filled his eyes when he recognized her. Dat walked into the barn, his hands outstretched in an effort to calm the situation, watching the big man.

  Then Ellie saw the smaller man, his clean, tailored suit a stark contrast to Bram’s torn and bloody clothes. His eyes on Dat, he threw a cigarette down and in one fluid motion pulled a pistol from beneath his suit jacket.

  Ellie’s feet were lead. She must keep that man from using his gun. She ran forward and grasped the cloth of his sleeve. He spun around, swinging the gun toward her face, his eyes sharp with evil intentions. The blow caught Ellie on the side of her head as she turned away from him, then he had no more regard for her than a fly he had just swatted away.

  As she fell to the floor, Ellie was horrified to see him raise his gun again, pointing it toward Dat.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The crash of the barn door brought Bram to his senses. Was he dreaming? No, the sharp pain in his ribs was all too real. John strode into the barn between Kavanaugh and Charlie, holding out a hand toward each, a gentle smile on his face. Bram sent a quick prayer for Gott to protect this brave, foolish man. Charlie froze, his suspicious eyes on John.

  “Surely, brother, we can talk about our differences without resorting to violence,” John said, his voice calm in the charged air.

  Bram looked past him to Ellie standing in the barn door, and the fog cleared out of his mind with a rush.

  No, she can’t be here!

  Charlie turned toward John, readying a ham-size fist at shoulder level. Without the thug’s hand pinning him against the supporting beam, Bram swayed. The air around him turned black. Staggering, he shook his head, trying to clear his sight. When he looked up again, the first thing he saw was Kavanaugh backhanding Ellie. He gathered what strength he had to go to her aid, but when Kavanaugh’s hand lifted, the snub nose of the pistol pointing straight at John, Bram changed direction and sprang to his left, shoving John over just as Kavanaugh’s finger squeezed the trigger of the gun.

  He and John skidded to the floor as Kavanaugh’s gun roared in the small barn. Bram rolled to his knees—Ellie was still in danger—and stopped as he faced Charlie’s prostrate form on the dirt floor beside him, a bloom of red blood soaking his shirt’s shoulder. Bram’s pistol was still tucked in Charlie’s waistband, right in front of his eyes. He grabbed it and turned to face Kavanaugh, every nerve focused on his target.

  The gangster’s face was calm, his eyes like steel. Bram had seen that look before—the man was determined to kill. Deliberately, Bram raised the gun in his hand to meet Kavanaugh’s stare.

  “Drop your gun.” His voice croaked, but he was able to force the words out. Blood ran into his mouth from a split lip, and he spit it out.

  Kavanaugh’s lip curled in the sneer that was his trademark. “No cop is going to take me.”

  The snub nose of Kavanaugh’s gun steadied as the gangster’s finger tightened on the trigger. Bram shot at the same time. His body jerked as Kavanaugh’s bullet hit his chest, and he fell into blackness.

  * * *

  The small man fell to the ground, but Ellie didn’t look at him as she flew to Bram. Dat reached him first, turning him on his back. The wound was just a blackened hole in Bram’s shirt, but as Ellie watched, blood began spurting out of it.

  “Good,” Dat said as he propped up Bram’s head. “He’s still alive.”

  Stars whirled around Ellie, the icy grip on her heart squeezing mercilessly. Dat gripped her arm, covering it with Bram’s blood.

  “I need your help, Ellie. We need to get him to a doctor.”

  Ellie swallowed. Bram’s face was pale, and blood was everywhere. Just like Daniel.

  “What do I need to do?” Her voice cracked in a whisper of breath.

  Dat removed his jacket and tore off his shirt. Wadding it up, he pressed against the wound.

  “Keep pressure on this.”

  Ellie pressed her hand against Dat’s shirt, Bram’s warm blood pulsing against her cold fingers.

  “We need to get him to town. We’ll take that automobile outside.”

  “The automobile?”

  Dat looked at Ellie, his eyes grave. “This is a matter of life or death. It’s here, so we’ll
use it.”

  Ellie kept pressure on Bram’s wounds, walking beside Dat as he carried him to the big maroon machine. She sat on the backseat with Bram’s head in her lap as Dat returned to the barn and carried the small gangster to the automobile. The man was barely conscious as Dat set him in the front seat, and he slumped against the door.

  Dat sat in the driver’s seat, pausing to study the controls.

  “Can you make it work?”

  Dat gave her a grim smile as he turned on the motor. “Ja, I drove an ambulance during the war, remember? It wasn’t too much different from this.”

  “What about the other man?” Ellie tried to remember if he was dead or only hurt.

  “He’ll be all right. I tied him to the barn post, and I’ll send someone to get him when we get to the hospital.”

  Once Dat figured out the controls of the automobile, the trip into Goshen was faster than Ellie had ever experienced. Dat knew more about driving than Ellie imagined, but the machine still bucked and stuttered as he tried to make it speed along the dusty road.

  Bram lay deathly still for the entire trip, his head resting in her lap. Ellie watched his pale face as she leaned over him, keeping her fingers pressed against the makeshift bandages. She tried to pray, but the words didn’t survive the icy grip on her heart. Memories of Daniel flooded her mind. Once again she was helpless, hopeless, watching the man she loved as he lay dying. With every breath that made his chest rise beneath her fingers, she took a breath herself. Which one would be his last?

  Ellie blinked back tears, watching Bram’s face. She loved him. Her mind embraced what she had feared all along. Could she love him? Love meant risking her heart, risking loss again. Could she bear that?

  As Dat pulled up to the hospital, the car’s engine sputtered and died. Ellie stayed with Bram as Dat ran into the building, her numb hands pressed against Bram’s wounds. The automobile’s door swung open, and a man in white looked in.

  “We’ll take it from here, ma’am.”

  As they took Bram and put him on a wheeled cot, Ellie’s hands fell uselessly into her lap. She watched the small man, Kavanaugh, being wheeled into the hospital behind Bram. What could she do now?

  Dat opened the door next to her.

  “Come, daughter. We’ll wait for news inside.”

  Ellie looked down at her bloody hands and dress. Dat’s Sunday coat was just as bad.

  “Like this?”

  Dat smiled at her, but the smile didn’t change the worried look in his eyes.

  “Ja. This is a hospital. They’re used to these things here.”

  Ellie let Dat help her into one of the chairs lining the hall just inside the door of the hospital. Englischers were everywhere, even on a Sunday afternoon. Dat went to the desk to use the telephone while she sat. Her hands shook as she stared at the blood that covered them. Bram’s blood.

  She barely noticed when Dat took the seat next to her.

  “I called the Wrights,” he said. “They’ll take the news to Eli’s, and it will be passed on from there.”

  As the afternoon wore on, people started showing up at the hospital. Annie and Matthew Beachey were among the first, and Annie had brought some fresh clothes for them both.

  By the time Ellie changed her dress, the corridor was filled with Amish. Friends and family surrounded them. She numbly returned to her seat and heard Dat relating the news to some recent arrivals.

  “The doctor said they would have to operate. He said it didn’t look like the bullet had hit his lung, but it broke his shoulder blade. He wasn’t sure what other damage had been done.”

  Dat’s words sank in slowly. Was Bram still alive?

  Mam sat down, and Ellie found herself clinging to her. She gave way to the tears that she had dammed up. Her failed promises to Daniel, her doubts about Bram, her own miserable pride all caught up in tears that flowed like a spring flood.

  * * *

  Bram gunned the engine, Kavanaugh’s breath

  hot on the back of his neck.

  “Go, go, go!” The gangster cursed at him, and Bram put all his weight on the accelerator, but his foot couldn’t reach the floor—the Packard didn’t move. Bram risked a look over his shoulder. Kavanaugh’s face disappeared in an explosive flash.

  Bram’s eyes shot open. Ellie was in danger. He struggled to sit up, fighting against the pain that seared across his shoulder and down his back.

  Ellie’s face came into view.

  “Bram, don’t try to move.”

  But Kavanaugh would kill her; he had to move. He fought against the black fog in his mind.

  “Bram, it’s all right. You’re in the hospital.”

  Ellie’s voice pierced the thick layer. The hospital? Pieces of the events in the barn fell into place in his mind like shattered glass shards, arranging themselves into bits of memory. He lay still, watching her face. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed and wet, as if she had been crying. A tear made its way down her cheek, and he tried to lift his hand to brush it away, but the only thing that moved was his index finger. His right arm, shoulder and chest were covered in bandages. Kavanaugh... Where was he?

  His eyes sought Ellie’s again. “Wh...wh...”

  “Shh. Don’t try to talk.”

  Ellie moved away as a nurse bustled in. Quiet shoes whispered on the wooden floors.

  “Lie still, young man.” The middle-aged nurse spoke in a no-nonsense tone, and he couldn’t fight her. His chest felt as if a heavy weight held it down. The nurse gave him a sip of water after checking his pulse and temperature.

  “He’s doing fine so far.” The nurse shook the thermometer and placed it in her pocket. “You may stay only a few more minutes. He needs to get his rest.”

  The nurse left the room as Ellie came into view again. Behind her were John and Elizabeth.

  “Tell me what happened to Kavanaugh.” His voice was stronger. The water had helped.

  Ellie glanced at John. The older man looked down at his feet, then back at Bram. “You shot him.”

  “Is he dead?”

  John shook his head. “Ne, praise Gott.”

  “Where is he? You can’t let him get away.”

  “He’s here in the hospital, along with that other man.”

  Bram closed his eyes, exhausted. He had to let Peters know where to find them, but not now.

  “We’d better go.”

  Bram forced his eyes open to see John ushering Elizabeth out of the room. Ellie stood by his feet.

  “I need to go, too.”

  “Ne, wait.”

  She moved to his side and rested her hand on his as it lay outside the covers. Her mouth quivered as she looked at him.

  “If you and your father hadn’t come... I still don’t know how you got there.”

  “Dat had a feeling there was something wrong.”

  “Ja, he was right.” Bram closed his eyes, but he opened them again as he heard Ellie start to move away. “Don’t go.”

  Ellie shook her head. “I need to. The nurses won’t let me stay.” Her hands shook, as if she was trying to bear up under a great strain.

  “I’m not going to die, Ellie. I’m here for you.”

  Ellie smiled at him, a quick, tearful smile, and then turned and followed her parents out the door as the nurse came in again.

  “Now, no arguing. You need your sleep.” The nurse adjusted his pillows, checked his IV and took his pulse again. Her eyebrows rose as she looked at him. “Your pulse is up a bit.”

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  The nurse didn’t answer until he had swallowed the pills she gave him.

  “Will it help you rest?”

  “Ja...I mean yes. I need to make a phone call.”

  “No phone calls for you, y
oung man.” She moved to the end of his bed to adjust the sheets.

  “Is there someone who could send a wire for me?”

  “I can send a telegram for you, but you have to promise to go to sleep then. All right?”

  Bram nodded, and the movement made his head ring. He gave the nurse Peters’s information.

  “Tell him where I am and that I have some of his friends.” He moved his head toward her too quickly and winced from the pain.

  “None of that. I’ll send your message.”

  “One more thing. I have to talk to the police.” His voice was getting weaker. Making an effort to rally his strength just made him sink further. Whatever drug she had given him was taking effect.

  “Sure. They’ll be here first thing in the morning to talk to you if you’re feeling up to it. They always do for a shooting.” She unfolded a blanket over his legs. “Although what Amish folk are doing involved in a shooting...” Her voice faded.

  “Those other men...” But she was already out the door, beyond hearing. He was helpless against the sleep that claimed him.

  * * *

  Ellie sat alone in the back of the buggy while Dat drove home. Brownie’s hooves kept up their tireless cadence on the road while lightning bugs hovered above the fields in the growing darkness, floating in the hot breezes that carried the scent of acres of cornfields.

  Exhaustion made her head thick, numb, so much like the days after Daniel’s death....

  But Bram wasn’t dead. Ellie choked back a sob before Mam could hear it. This was what she had been afraid of, wasn’t it? That if she let herself care for another man...

  Bram wasn’t dead, but that didn’t mean he felt anything for her. That man in the barn... Ellie shuddered as she remembered his cold eyes, the blow that had sent her reeling to the ground. This was Bram’s world—violence, blood, death. Did Gott have any place in a world like that?

  Mam turned in her seat and reached back, resting her hand on Ellie’s knee. “Bram seems to be doing well after his surgery, doesn’t he?”

  Ellie nodded, not trusting her voice.