A Simple Hope: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (16 page)

W
heels turning, spinning endlessly. Arms pumping, pushing … the images had filled James’s mind the whole night through. In his dream, he had made the trip into Paradise on his own, simply by propelling his wheelchair along the side of the paved road, one ferocious push at a time. All to get himself to Dr. Finley’s clinical treatment on time.

The dream still held him when he awoke at three
A.M.
, drenched in sweat, his biceps aching. As he washed and dressed, thoughts of escape clung to him. Much as he wanted to take control of the situation, he knew that it would take all day and half the night to wheel himself the many miles into Paradise. He needed another plan … a way to get to town without relying on anyone in his family. After Dat’s order about staying Plain, the only solution would be to turn to someone else in the Amish community. There were plenty of folks willing to help, but many of them would be put off by the opinions of Dat and Bishop Samuel. Once they heard of
their concern over this new test as well as their disapproval of James’s associations with the Englishers, well, most folks wouldn’t walk into that tangle of thorns.

He rolled his wheelchair out of his bedroom and was surprised by the smell of coffee, savory and warm. Who was up before him?

“James.” Mamm’s voice, low and quiet, caught him before he spied her bending over to poke at the fire in the woodstove. “Come. Have coffee.”

“It smells good, Mamm.” He maneuvered over to the hutch, where he lifted two mugs from their hooks. He stowed them in the chair’s side pocket, wheeled over to the table, and set the cups on the vinyl tablecloth. “Nothing quite like coffee first thing in the morning.”

“Ya.” The door of the stove closed with a squeak, and Mamm straightened, wiping her hands on her apron. “I knew I’d have to get up before the birds to catch you.”

“Ya. It’s early to bed, early to rise for me.”

“I reckon it’s easy to get up before dawn when you don’t stay out late at singings and such.”

Was this going to be about him refusing to go to social functions? Another push for him to settle into a life in this chair? James’s chest grew tight as she poured a cup of black liquid into his mug. He used to add milk, but since the accident he’d started drinking it black, savoring the bold bitterness, so like his new life. He took a sip now, silent as Mamm placed her mug beside the cutting board and began to chop baked potatoes left over from Saturday’s supper. Nothing went to waste in an Amish kitchen.

“Hash browns for breakfast?” James asked.

Edna nodded. “And scrambled eggs. You’ll want a good breakfast in your belly for the trip to Paradise.”

James gripped the mug. “Paradise?” Had he heard right? “Are you talking about going to the clinic? The treatment with Dr. Finley?”

“Ya. I’ve been thinking on it, and this is a time when we must call
on our friends and family, find someone in the community who’d be willing to drive a buggy for us. We’ll supply the horse and all.”

“It’s a big task, a lot to ask.” Despite his doubts, James felt a weight lifting. “The treatment has to be every day, seven days a week. For who knows how long.”

Mamm nodded, and as she faced him, James noticed the new creases at the outer edges of her eyes, and that there was more silver in the hair scraped back beneath her prayer kapp. His injuries had taken a toll on her, too. “But if it’s a task worth doing, it’s worth doing right. I would have put the word out yesterday after church, but I didn’t want to cross your father.”

James frowned, his lips taut against his teeth. “He doesn’t want me to get the treatment.”

“That’s not true.” Mamm held an onion to the cutting board and cropped off the papery skin at the end. “We talked about it last night, and he’s right fine with it as long as you take support from our community, not from the Englishers.”

“Mmm.” James took another sip of coffee to mask his concern. This would all be so easy if Dat would allow Dylan or a hired driver to transport him. But this treatment was so important to James, and he was glad for a way to get to Paradise without crossing his father and the bishop. “I’ll do anything I can to get there, Mamm. Even if I have to wheel myself down the road.” He told her about his dream, about the hours of strained muscles and dust.

Edna clucked her tongue. “I think we can do better than you wheeling yourself. I’m going to ask Gabe King or Lois Mast if they can take you in each morning.”

James nearly choked on his coffee. “The bishop’s wife?” Lois had a stern way about her. “I’m not sure I’m ready to spend so much time with the bishop’s eyes and ears.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Mamm didn’t look up as she diced the onion. “She’s been a great help with fund-raising and all.”

“I’m thankful for that. But would you try Gabe first? I’d rather ride with a man.”

Mamm nodded. “I’ll try, but Gabe will need to be back in the afternoon for milking. For today, I’ll take you in this morning. I can stop at the bulk store on my way home. And Mark will go in and pick you up when he gets home from school.”

“Little Mark?” Twelve-year-old Mark was right good with horses, but he didn’t have much experience driving a buggy yet. “He’s never ridden alone into Halfway, and Paradise is twice as far.”

“It’s time he learned. Right now, he’s the only one who can be spared around here, and he’s eager to do it. He’s a good boy, James, and he wants to help you.”

Were the tears in her eyes from the onion, or the high emotion of the situation? Suddenly, James wanted to kick himself. All these months, he had been so wrapped up in his own pain, he hadn’t thought of how the accident had affected his mother. Mamm wanted the best for her firstborn son. She wanted James to walk again, and she was doing everything in her power to make it so.

“Mark will learn by doing,” James said. “It’s a right good plan, Mamm.” Grateful, he nodded at his mother, wishing that he could undo the creases and gray hairs and worries of the past months.

“We do what we can.” Her thin lips curved slightly, and James caught a glimmer of that whimsical light in her eyes, an enjoyment he’d seen there when she served up a slice of pie or savored a good joke. Edna Lapp hadn’t always been a stern woman; it was the difficulties of the past few months that had dulled her smile like a worn blade.

As his mother turned away and scraped potatoes and onions into the sizzling fry pan, James breathed in the mouthwatering smells and savored the new hope in his heart. No one but Gott in heaven knew for sure whether or not he’d be able to walk again. But now at least he had a chance.

D
own in the kitchen, Rachel and Mamm were well into frying bacon and grating cheese when Rose came down the stairs, barefoot and bleary-eyed.

“What’s for breakfast?” she asked.

“We’re making the bacon and egg casserole,” Rachel said with a smile. The dish, a baked combination of hard-boiled eggs, Colby cheese, and cream of mushroom soup, was a favorite of the King children. They especially liked it served over Mamm’s flaky biscuits.

“We’re just finishing the bacon, so you’ve got plenty of time to help with the milking first,” Mamm told Rose, who was breaking off a corner from a slice of crispy bacon.

“Off with you now,” Betsy told her daughter. “It’s the early bird who should be getting the bacon.”

“I was tired this morning,” Rose said as the door to the mud room closed behind her.

“Out late with a fella.” Mamm turned to Rachel. “Did she tell you?”

“I heard bits and pieces when she came in,” Rachel said, “but I’m sure I’ll hear more about it later.” This was big news. Rose had just started her rumspringa, and she so longed to catch a fella’s eye.

“And why didn’t you go to the singing last night? Last I checked, you’re still a single youth.”

“James has trouble getting out to singings,” Rachel said. She didn’t want to mention that James might not be her beau anymore. The uncertainty of it all made her feel prickly inside.

“You’ve a good heart, Rachel, but no one expects you to marry James anytime soon. The accident changed all that, and you can’t argue with the hand of Gott.”

“I know, Gott doesn’t make mistakes.” Rachel pressed her lips together as she scooped diced onion into the pan of hot bacon grease. There was no arguing with Gott … or Mamm. Still, no one would stop her from loving James. “But that doesn’t change things for me and James.”

“We’ll see.” Betsy sighed. “Put it in Gott’s hands.”

After breakfast Rachel helped Mamm get some laundry going, and then she caught a ride into town with her brother Abe. Today was the group session, a time for counseling for the Amish travelers involved in the January crash.

The old folks did not attend; Rachel suspected that they talked through the crash with the ministers. For the young people in the van like Elsie, Ruben, Rachel, and Zed, and Haley Donovan, the Englisher girl who had helped them at the scene, the trauma had been eased by conversation and advice, and they had become good friends, too.

In the months since the accident in January, Dylan had helped Rachel let go of the guilt that had overwhelmed her. When James had been injured, she had blamed herself. Now Rachel knew that none of it was her fault. Not the crash. Not the fact that James’s seat belt had been broken. Gott didn’t make mistakes. It was sad when bad things happened, but Gott was with her. He would see her through.

Dylan opened the session by asking about friends and family. “The four of you were in the van, and I think you’ve benefited from these sessions,” he said. “But I wonder about other people in the community. We know a tragedy like this has a ripple effect. It’s my job to reach out and help other survivors work through their grief. I’m wondering if you guys can help me?”

“I think it would be a good thing for folks to talk with you,” said Elsie Lapp, who had lost her father, Thomas, in the crash. “Sometimes I see Fanny, so busy at home with the baby and the house chores.” Fanny Lapp had been married to Thomas, and tragically, he had died before their third child had been born. “She never complains, but I think her heart is broken. Her first husband was taken to heaven, too.” She shook her head. “I have asked her to come along to these meetings, but she wants to stay close to home.”

“Would it be okay if I stop by to talk with her?” Dylan asked.

“You could call during the day.” Elsie’s mouth puckered as she thought it through. “Maybe you should bring Haley? Folks might get to thinking the wrong thing if an Englisher man comes by to visit a widow.”

“We could do that,” Haley said.

“And I’ve been trying to get James to come join the group,” Rachel said, “but I don’t think it’s going to happen. His dat and the bishop don’t want James spending so much time with Englishers. They think he’s drifting away from living Plain.”

“That’s a tough issue.” Dylan explained that he had been visiting
James last weekend when Jimmy Lapp announced that he didn’t want Englishers in his house anymore. “I’m going to try to meet with James whenever he goes into Paradise for treatment. I’m sorry I can’t do more, but I respect Jimmy’s decision.” Dylan asked about others in Elsie’s family. Thomas had left behind three little children, as well as Elsie, brother Caleb, and sister Emma, who taught the Amish children of Halfway.

While Elsie talked about her family, Rachel’s mind wandered to her own concerns. James was in her thoughts all the time, but she could hardly tell the group about her courtship blues. It wouldn’t do to bring such matters up, especially in front of fellas like Ruben and Zed.

After the meeting, the group walked down the street to the pizza place—Dylan’s treat. They divided into smaller conversations, and Rachel told Haley how she dreamed of living in a house in town like Haley, or an apartment like Dylan.

“Not everyone belongs on a farm,” Rachel said. “Mucking the stalls and milking cows doesn’t suit me. And without all the farm chores, I could spend more time painting. Gott willing, I could make enough money to support James and me.”

Although Amish couples traditionally kept their engagements a secret, except from family, until just a month or so before the planned wedding, everyone here knew that Rachel and James had long planned to marry in the fall.