Abigail's New Hope (8 page)

Daniel dropped the reins and walked to her side. His arm protectively encircled her shoulders. “What’s this about, officer?”

“I’m afraid a warrant has been issued for your arrest, Mrs. Graber.” The sheriff set his hat back on, while his deputy shuffled his boot heels in the dirt.

Abby gasped. She tried to speak, but words would not come.

“For what?” Daniel asked. “What are the charges, sir?”

The sheriff gazed at Daniel with more pity than anything else. “Your wife has been charged with practicing midwifery without a license, involuntary manslaughter, practicing medicine without a license, and possession and sale of a dangerous controlled substance. Those last two charges are felonies, Mr. Graber.”

He seems more comfortable addressing Daniel than me
, she thought.

“Manslaugher? Practicing medicine?” Daniel’s voice rose in agitation. “That’s absurd. She doesn’t kill people or practice medicine. She delivers babies.”

The officer turned back to Abby. “Did you make a statement to the attending paramedic that you injected Mrs. Fisher with the drug Pitocin?”

Abby felt the blood drain from her head. “Yes. I wanted them to know so there would be no possible drug interaction with anything else or potential overdose. I did it in an attempt to save her.” Her final admission was barely audible.

Daniel turned on the gravel and stared at her, his face a mask of confusion.

Excuses, explanations, pleas for understanding all swam through her brain, yet Abby couldn’t think of anything to say to mitigate the wrong she had done.

“Then I’m afraid I must take you into custody, Mrs. Graber,” the sheriff said.

His deputy brought forth handcuffs from his chest pocket, but the sheriff shook his head. “Bob, I think we can trust one skinny Amish lady to behave herself on the way to county booking.”

With one last glance at Daniel, he turned back at her. “Ma’am, if you would be so kind?” He pointed toward the squad car.

Abby started to walk on legs threatening to collapse beneath her toward the police car on the second most terrifying day of her life.

A
bby bolted upright with a start following a particularly stressful dream. She had been running away from an unknown adversary. Each place she had chosen to hide from her pursuer turned into another trap of danger—gaping holes in the floor, stairs climbing into the clouds without end, and dangerously canted hallways in buildings that shook with earthquake intensity. Each time she felt that her nemesis had either lost her trail or lost interest in her, the faceless stalker would show up to send her fleeing to another condemned building or shifting sandbar.

When she awoke her heart was racing, her breath came in jagged, shallow gasps, and sweat was soaking through her nightgown. After perusing her surroundings, Abby realized the danger was real, not imagined. Even though no slippery slopes into dark abysses threatened her path, a cell offered an equal amount of anxiety to her jangled nerves.

She was in jail.

Abigail Graber, God-fearing woman and respected member of the Amish community, had been locked up like a common criminal. She contemplated that fact as she knelt beside her uncomfortable bunk for morning prayers. At least she was alone in the sparsely furnished cell and the matron had allowed her to keep her well-worn Bible. Opening it to the book of Deuteronomy, she read a few paragraphs of Old Testament tribulations and changed her mind about the chapter selection. Perhaps Psalms or Ephesians could lift her spirits from self-pity and remorse—remorse for the effect her arrest would have on Daniel and her two
kinner
.

Would her husband hang his head in shame, keeping to their farm for fear of district censure for her actions? Crawling beneath a rock had never been his habit in the past. Would her children suffer embarrassment because of her arrest? At least school was recessed for the summer, but would other children point fingers or ask questions that would frighten Laura and Jake? The Amish were raised to not sit in judgment of others but to follow their
Ordnung
. How she longed to know how her
daed
, her district’s bishop, would react to his daughter going to jail. Because it happened only last night, she doubted he’d even heard the news yet.

After her devotions, Abby dressed and was just lacing her shoes when suddenly the door swung open and a middle-aged woman entered carrying a tray. “Breakfast is served,” she announced. “Nothing gourmet, but the eggs are real and the coffee is hot.” She offered a pleasant smile along with the food. “From now on, you’ll take meals in the common room with the other women, but you have a hearing in half an hour, so eat fast.”

“
Dank
—thank you,” Abby said, remembering to use only English. She looked over the tray—coffee with powdered creamer, scrambled eggs, two slices of white toast, margarine spread, and a plastic dish of fruit cocktail.

“I’ll go get your own clothes,” the woman said. “I suppose you’ll be glad to get out of our duds for a while. Camouflage green isn’t exactly an Amish color.”

Abby’s face flushed with shame. The matron probably meant no offense with her comment, but drawing attention to her mannish, ghastly outfit only made Abby feel worse. She took a bite of toast and looked up. “Will I be allowed to wear my own clothes from now on?”

“No, only during your appearance in court today. The judge will read the charges against you and set the amount of your bail.”

Abby swallowed the dry bread and asked, “Then I can go home?” She reached for the coffee and drank half the cup, forgoing her usual cream and two sugars.

“No, then he’ll ask if you have counsel to represent you. You know… a lawyer,” she added upon Abby’s bewildered expression.

She rubbed her forehead. “Amish folks don’t usually hire lawyers. I wouldn’t know who to call.”
Because Amish folks don’t usually get themselves thrown in jail
. “We try to settle our differences among ourselves and go to the ministerial brethren only if we can’t come to agreement.”

The matron looked sad and somewhat uncomfortable. “Yes, but this is Wooster, so I’m afraid if you don’t have an attorney, the court will appoint one for you. That’s what the judge will tell you today. I don’t recommend you trying to represent yourself in court.”

Abby nodded. “After I am assigned a court-appointed lawyer, then will I be allowed to go home?” She ate some of the bland, undercooked scrambled eggs, trying not to reveal her distaste.

“Mrs.—” The matron glanced down at her clipboard. “—Graber. Do you realize that you have been charged with a felony?”

“I understand the law says practicing midwifery in Ohio without the proper license is a crime, but Amish midwives have been delivering babies in our community since we settled here a hundred years ago.”

“That may be, but it’s still considered a crime. Usually you would have been charged with a misdemeanor. If that were the case, they would release you after your hearing and expect you to come back for your trial date. That is, if you didn’t cop a plea. But it looks like you’ll be charged with a felony, and that’s much more serious. They must have something else on you other than just delivering a baby.”

Abby swallowed as much of the eggs as she could stomach and washed them down with the rest of her coffee. She couldn’t ask the woman about everything she didn’t understand or the other inmates might not get their breakfast trays until lunchtime.

“So the judge will read the charges against you, assign a lawyer, and then set the amount of your bail.”

“The bail is money I must pay to get out?”

“Yes, but you’ll get the money back if you show up for trial.”

“Why wouldn’t I show up?”

The woman laughed softly. “Good question. I know
you
will, but some people hightail it and run. That makes them look guilty, and it also makes things go a lot worse when they’re finally caught and dragged before the judge.”

Abby nodded as she ate her fruit cocktail. Each fruit in the syrup tasted exactly the same. “I hope my husband remembers to bring whatever cash we have on hand if he comes to the courthouse today.” She spoke more to herself than to her jailer.

The woman laughed again. “It’ll take more than the proceeds from selling eggs and garden produce from your farm stand. Bail for felonies can run into a couple hundred thousand dollars.”

Abby set the fruit cup back on the tray and stared in disbelief. Her appetite vanished while the food in her stomach started to curdle. “Then I guess I’ll be staying here until the trial. We don’t have that kind of money.” Her calm tone of voice belied her inner turmoil.

“Nobody has that kind of money. That’s what bail bondmen are for.” She glanced at her watch and then over her shoulder. “Look, I can’t spend any more time jawboning with you. I need to supervise the breakfast room so no food trays
accidentally
hit the walls. Your lawyer will explain about bonding and bail money.” She walked out carrying Abby’s tray but reentered within a couple minutes. “Here are your regular clothes,” she said, handing Abby a plastic sack. “They want you to appear in court looking normal. You can wash up at the sink and change outfits. There’s no time for a shower. If I finish up early, I’ll stop back to explain more of the goings-on so you won’t be afraid.”

Abby glanced up to meet the jailer’s gaze. “Thank you for breakfast, and for your kindness in speaking to me today.” She didn’t mention that knowing what would happen did nothing to alleviate her fear.

“Sure thing. For what it’s worth, I’m on your side. There are too many laws telling us what to do in this country. They take away every personal freedom we once had in an effort to protect us from ourselves. Doesn’t make sense to me.” She marched out the door, shaking her head. At least no bolt clicked behind her as it had last night. Abby hated the thought of being locked inside a room. What if there was a fire?

She washed, changed clothes, and then tried her best to pin up her hair without benefit of a hairbrush. The guard’s words swam through her mind like bees around a hive, making her more agitated by the minute.

Be still and know that I am God.

One of her favorite Scriptures helped to calm her nerves. As she contemplated the events at the Fisher farm, preparing to explain her actions to the judge, there wasn’t a thing she would have done differently. If she was a woman faith, she needed to show some now as she waited for the hearing. Opening her Bible, she turned to the book of Genesis. “Might as well start at the beginning,” she whispered and began to read.

By the time the deputy arrived to take her to court, God had created heaven and earth in six days and rested on the seventh; Adam and Eve had eaten the forbidden fruit and lost paradise; Cain had slain his brother Abel; a great flood had covered the earth; the Babylonians had erected the tower of Babel, separating people forever by language barriers; God had destroyed the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah; and the faith of the great prophet Abraham had been tested by the Lord. While walking the corridors of the Justice Center, Abby’s problems seemed minor by comparison.

She walked into a courtroom filled with people, while many more stood along the back wall. She spotted Daniel and Dr. Weller but recognized no one else. “Who are all these people?” she asked the guard. “Have all of them come to hear my case?”

The question seemed to take the man by surprise. “No, ma’am. The judge will preside over many cases this morning—some to set bail, some to request continuances, while others informed their lawyers they wish to enter or change a plea. But this sure isn’t your lucky day. Judge O’Neil is sitting on the bench. He can be a tough one. Sit there, ma’am. You’re next on the docket.”

Abby did as instructed, wondering about this Judge O’Neil, who looked no different than most English folk to her. She stole a glance over her shoulder at Daniel. Dark circles beneath his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept in days. He clutched his hat between his large hands, while his hair still showed the impression left by his hatband. He seemed as comfortable as a hen in a fox lair. She hoped she could go home with him after she explained to the judge that she’d tried everything within her power to save Mrs. Fisher. Did Jake and Laura wonder what had happened? Her little girl had trouble sleeping whenever her
mamm
was out on a call.