River of Mercy (25 page)

Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?

J
OB
2:10
NKJV

F
amilies began arriving early on the day of the barn raising. Although the weather had forced them to postpone the work a week, a number of men had come in the evenings to measure and sort the lumber in advance.

The women had also been working in advance, getting ready for Saturday as they cleaned and prepared the large quantity of food that would be needed for so many workers. Even before the frames were hammered in, everyone, including children who were old enough to work, had their own tasks assigned, their groups organized.

Although the work had already begun, the buggies kept coming, a steady stream of black rolling down the foggy lane, parking along the fence and across the road as their occupants emptied, supplies and tools in hand.

Gant and Gideon worked alongside Malachi Esch, whose skills were widely recognized. Malachi needed no instruction. Further, he was good with managing the older men, as he knew their strengths and weaknesses and could designate jobs accordingly.

Taking a moment to watch from the crest of the yard, Rachel noted that a number of the boys and younger men went to Jeremiah and Gideon for instruction while hammers and handsaws provided a steady rhythm to the quiet discussions taking place. She couldn't quite stop a tug of pride as she witnessed how her brother and the man she secretly loved commanded the respect of so many of the other men.

Even so, she didn't miss the dark, indignant glances Samuel Beiler often cast in Jeremiah's direction. To her surprise, even Samuel's sons wore expressions clearly resentful of the
Englischer
working among them.

For the most part, however, she found it nearly impossible to drag her gaze away from Jeremiah. The last barn raising at which he'd helped, he hadn't been able to contribute much to the physical labor because he was still recuperating from the gunshot wound that had brought him to Riverhaven in the first place. Today though, he seemed strong and vigorous enough to do his share of the harder work, even moving about without his cane for a few steps at a time.

Once, as if he'd felt her scrutiny, he glanced up and made a barely perceptible dip of his head in her direction.

Quickly, guiltily, Rachel put her proud feelings aside and turned to go back to the house, her face still warm with the awareness that Jeremiah had seen her watching him.

By the time the women served lunch, the entire barn had been framed. Not long after, the interior walls were in place. Before two o'clock the men working on the exterior framing had established their rhythm, hammering the boards and nailing them down, following the same routine as each piece was lifted into place.

They worked quickly but skillfully, the experience of the Amish men in patent display. The barn was going up incredibly fast. Gant ignored the fatigue that had begun to settle over him. In truth, he was enjoying being able to do more than hammer a few nails or stain a small piece of furniture.

It also felt good to be a part of a community, even if for only a day, to work alongside a group of men skilled at what they did, men who clearly enjoyed each other's company. He had been a loner most of his life. Even when he'd worked in the shipyards, he hadn't been much for mingling, and he had always sensed the need for a certain distance from his crew on the boat in order to maintain authority. For the most part, they had been a rough lot, and he was never quite certain but what a few might take advantage if they detected the slightest weakness in him.

This was a different kind of experience, and the fact that he found himself enjoying it came as a bit of a surprise. Indeed, the heaviness and ache in his bad leg seemed to pale in light of what they were accomplishing and the gratification to be had in doing it.

Nor could the resentful scowls of Samuel Beiler, frequent though they were, take away from his feeling of satisfaction in being included in the day's work.

He passed a hand over the perspiration that had gathered below the rim of his cap. All in all, it had been a good day, a fine day indeed. But as time went on, his leg and his back began to feel the need for the day, fine though it was, to come to an end.

It was dark when Gideon pulled the wagon into the barn. No more had Gant stepped down than Asa approached with a barely flickering lantern and a tense greeting.

“Captain…it's the boy, Silas. He's sick now. Acting a lot like the little girl, Tabitha, it seems to me.”

Gant was so tired his mind felt like cotton. “Silas too?”

Gideon had started for the barn door but stopped to listen.

“A fever,” Asa said. “Didn't Doctor Sebastian mention the possibility that the girl might have something more than rheumatism?”

Gant nodded. “So…is he separate from the others?”

“He's keeping his distance, but then he usually does. Only time he mingles is when he needs to give them orders. He usually stays off to himself.”

“Aye, he's like that.” Gant stopped to think. “Well, I can't call Doc out again tonight. He's likely just settling down from working on the new barn all day, and dead tired at that. Do we have plenty of that medicine Doc left for the girl's fever?”

“There's enough. Should I give him some?”

“No, you stay away from him. There's no sense in you coming down with this, whatever it is.” Gant hated what he was thinking, but he couldn't ignore it. “Let's just hope it isn't influenza.”

Asa waved off his caution. “I expect I've had enough fevers in this lifetime to be safe from most anything going around. How much of the medicine should I give him?”

“Let's try one of the powders first. We'll see if that helps. If need be, I'm sure Doc would come out tomorrow and check on him.”

“I'll go for Doc first thing in the morning if we need him,” Gideon offered.

“Good enough,” said Gant. He turned to Asa and added, “Come to the house and get me if the boy should take worse. For now, let's try to get some sleep.”

Even as he said it and turned toward the barn door, Gant knew it would be precious little sleep he'd get tonight. The very thought of a possible influenza outbreak among such a large group of runaways was enough to pose a wide-awake nightmare.

Asa had cautioned him more than once not to question the ways of the good Lord, but right now it was a hard thing not to wonder what was going on. Sometimes it seemed that the more he prayed about getting these people out of here and safely back on the road to freedom, the more bad luck arrived to hold them captive in his barn.

25

When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned.

I
SAIAH
43:2
NKJV

B
y the next morning, Silas had a fever so high he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Gant knew he dared not let the boy go on as he was much longer. He burned to the touch, even though Asa had plied him with cool cloths and cold drinking water all throughout the night. A few minutes before eight o'clock that morning, Gant roused Gideon from his room upstairs and sent him out to the farm to fetch Doc.

He didn't like leaving Asa alone to tend to the boy—he could see his friend was fairly worn out himself—but it might raise suspicion if the shop remained closed on a business day. So after he prepared a hurried breakfast for the fugitives, he left the barn and went to clean himself up a bit in advance of opening the shop.

He worried about Doc being seen on the premises too often. He hoped Gideon would remember his instructions, that Doc should pull his buggy up in front as always and come into the shop as he normally would. He could then exit through the back and make his way to the barn. Even so, there was no guarantee he wouldn't be seen. Still, with no vet in the area, it wasn't all that unusual for David Sebastian to doctor a horse now and then. Probably most folks would assume he was doing just that—if they wondered at all—should they happen to spy him coming or going at the rear of the property.

Not for the first time, Gant wondered how his friend managed to care for so many sick people on a regular basis and not end up sick himself. Heaven only knew how many different diseases Doc had been exposed to in his lifetime, and yet he couldn't recall ever seeing the man with more than a mild head cold. Maybe a body eventually became immune after so long a time of tending the sick.

Or maybe the good Lord simply had mercy on those who put themselves at risk to take care of others. Gant figured Doc had probably never refused to come when needed. If ever a man had challenged Gant's previously held conviction that humankind was fundamentally selfish, that man was David Sebastian.

His British friend had scotched much of Gant's earlier cynicism. He wasn't sure which of the two—Doc or Asa—owned the bragging rights to setting a stubborn Irishman straight on a fairly regular basis.