River of Mercy (43 page)

And yet it had happened. According to Jacob Lehman and Amos Schrock, Samuel had appeared to snap. He openly scorned their charges of misconduct, misuse of his authority as bishop, and bad behavior in general—behavior out of keeping for not only a spiritual leader but for any Amish man. He had as much as called the two bishops liars and perverters of the truth—them and all those who had made the accusations against him, even though two of his own sons were among those he condemned.

“Like a madman he was,” Jacob Lehman had said, with Bishop Schrock nodding in agreement. “For a while there, I thought he had lost his mind altogether.”

That Samuel was a proud and at times a seemingly headstrong man was no secret to Malachi or, he imagined, to anyone else who knew the man reasonably well. Too many times he had displayed those traits in matters involving the church and individual members of the community.

But this? Along with all the other troubling aspects in his character that had recently come to light, now to hear that he had behaved like a crazy man, cursing people he had lived among for years and even coming close to blaspheming the Lord God in his tirade while displaying absolutely no sign of repentance—it was too much for Malachi to take in. His head was not only hurting, it was swimming by the time the bishops left to report the events of the day to Abe Gingerich.

By late afternoon, Samuel's position and authority as bishop had been revoked, and he had been placed under the
Bann.

Now, as Malachi sat at the kitchen table, considering all that had happened over the past few days and grieving the ugliness of the entire situation, he tried to sort through the clutter of his mind. He thanked God that he hadn't witnessed Samuel's outburst, for seeing it with his own eyes no doubt would have scalded his soul with a memory he would never forget.

As it was, his shock and confusion were now giving way to concern for those Samuel believed to have turned against him. Over the past few days, Malachi had been relieved that no further word had come to Rachel about being shunned, yet he'd remained uneasy, wondering when and if the man would actually carry out his threat to her.

Now, of course, he couldn't have her shunned. Still, in light of all that had recently transpired, he was beginning to question Samuel's mental state and couldn't help but wonder if the man might not attempt to exact some kind of revenge on those he felt had wronged him. In addition to Rachel, there were the Beiler boys to think about. There was no refuting the fact that Samuel had beaten them before. What might he do now?

Malachi was already sick at heart. Now he began to feel physically ill as well.

He must go yet this evening to the home of Dr. Sebastian and his wife, Susan. By tomorrow the word about Samuel's shunning would be all over the community. He had to talk with them now and caution them about Rachel—just in case. He understood why Rachel hadn't wanted to go to her mother with this trouble before, but now, Susan and Dr. Sebastian had to know.

He didn't like the way he was thinking about Samuel. He fervently hoped he was letting his imagination run away from reality, but he would take no chances. It was best for Rachel and her family to know about the troublesome situation yet tonight so they could take precautions.

Malachi had long been a man of prayer. Many of the People simply relied on the Lord's Prayer in all their approaches to the Almighty, but Malachi was more inclined to openly share whatever was on his heart with the Lord God. A few years ago, his family and others in the community had accepted God's offer of salvation instead of clinging to the belief that His salvation was not free, but had to be earned. From that time on, they had learned to pour out their hearts in earnest prayer, knowing their Lord would hear them and answer.

These days, it was hard for him to get to his knees. His legs didn't work so well as they had when he was younger. Even so, he struggled to kneel by the kitchen table, where he prayed in the language of his people, the language God also understood, just as He understood the tongues of all His children.

“Lord God, in Your mercy and by Your power, protect these, Your people, from harm in the aftermath of these ugly and sinful events that have taken place among us. Guard from further harm, O Lord, those who sought only to speak the truth and shield their loved ones. And if it be Your will, have mercy on this one who has strayed from the path that leads to You.”

Clumsily, he got to his feet and went for his coat, reluctant to leave and yet knowing his visit to the Sebastians could not be avoided.

It had been an awkward time, a painful time, but David Sebastian could not have been more grateful for Malachi Esch's promptness in coming to them. His account of the past few days' events and especially those of today had been candid and obviously prompted by his concern for Rachel.

David assumed his good friend wouldn't have divulged as much as he did had it not been for that concern. As it was, his quick action would enable them to take measures to protect Susan's daughter.

In fact, as soon as Malachi left, David went to fetch Rachel. At the moment, he was still trying to ignore the disappointment he felt that Rachel hadn't come to them earlier and made them aware of the burden she'd been carrying, particularly Samuel Beiler's threats. That she had spent the last few days bearing her terrible secret alone wrenched his heart.

Yet he thought he understood why she'd acted as she had. She'd doubtless been trying to shield her mother. And knowing Rachel and her sensitive spirit, she had most likely been feeling shamed by Beiler's accusations.

From where he was standing in the hallway, he glanced upstairs. Susan was still with Rachel in her old bedroom, no doubt attempting to comfort and reassure her. Of course, Susan was badly shaken herself. But he knew his wife. She would hold steady as long as her daughter needed her strength.

For that matter, David was also finding himself somewhat stunned and struggling to take in this entire situation. It boggled the mind to think of all that had transpired in such a short time.

In truth, he had never actually felt any liking for Samuel Beiler—having distrusted the man for years because of the suspicion of cruelty toward his wife. But even so, he couldn't stop a pang of sorrow for the predicament Samuel now found himself in. He couldn't imagine the horror of being cast out from everyone and everything he'd ever known.

His first concern for now, however, had to be for Rachel. She could not stay alone, at least not until this worrisome situation with Samuel Beiler had been resolved somehow.

Many decisions would have to be made, and all of them significant. For example, what would be done about choosing a new bishop? David was, for the most part, completely unfamiliar with how the church worked in matters such as these, but he knew enough to assume that another lot would have to be cast for a new bishop to be chosen. And this time, that decision would most likely be made between Malachi Esch and Abe Gingerich, their two remaining preachers and church leaders.

As Susan had once explained to him, the position of bishop wasn't typically coveted by Amish men. The overwhelming responsibility for the spiritual direction of an entire community, the often onerous decisions that needed to be made, and the time and effort involved weren't for the spiritually or physically weak.

Feeling a need to be with Susan and Rachel, he sighed and started up the steps. So many people would be affected by the shunning of Samuel Beiler. Some lives had been damaged, some would be changed. Although it was probably a forbidden thought, he couldn't help but wonder, and not for the first time, about God's plan in allowing the lot to fall on such a man in the first place.

In that instant, however, it occurred to him that if Samuel had never become bishop, his true nature might never have been revealed until it was too late and he had done even more damage. Sometimes a man's depravity was concealed until surprised by the light.

In any event, he decided, God always knew what He was doing, so man shouldn't need to. And with that thought, he shook off the troubling questions about the unknown future in order to face what needed to be done in the challenging present.

42

God keep you every time and everywhere.

M
ADELINE
B
RIDGES

I
want to see Rachel, Doc.”

David Sebastian took in Gant's condition at a glance. Clearly the man was strung as tight as the fiddle he sawed on, standing there, waiting to come inside, his eyes desperate, his mouth hard, his hands clenched. He looked as if he were about to lunge through the door right past him.

“Gant…this might not be the best time—”

“I have to see her! Is she all right?”

“She's quite all right, but it's still not a good idea for you to be here.”

“Because I'm the reason Beiler threatened her, right? At least part of the reason.”

Doc took a long breath. “Gideon talked with you, I suppose.”

“As soon as he came to work this morning.”

Of course he had. The boy had stopped by the house last night, not long after they'd come back with Rachel. He heard the whole story, and they'd had quite the time keeping him from tearing out of the house and going after Samuel Beiler. Only Rachel's pleading had stopped him.

He'd finally relented but insisted on staying the night. He was still seething when he left for town this morning.

“Doc, I'm going to stand right here until you let me in.”

And he would. David sighed and opened the door wide enough for him to enter. “You and I will talk first,” he said firmly.

“Where is she?” Gant was already looking for her, his eyes scanning the hallway and then the living room.

“She's upstairs with Susan and Fannie. She really is all right. Now calm down because you're not going to see her until you do.”

The man must have raced that big red horse of his all the way out here from town. His face was flushed, his breath ragged, his cap askew.

“Come and sit down. I'll get Rachel in a moment.”

Gant followed him into the living room but remained standing. He doffed his cap, still looking as if he might spring into motion at any moment.

David sighed. The thing about the Irish was their impetuous nature. In truth, he felt sorry for his friend. Clearly he'd come as fast as he could, most likely knowing he'd meet with some measure of resistance. All the man wanted was to comfort the woman he loved, after all.