The Judgment (33 page)

When Rose returned home, the kitchen was empty, a rare thing. She quietly placed the money from the old tin box in the empty cookie jar on the counter that her parents had always used for the purpose of storing pin money. The additional thirty dollars would easily mingle with the jam and jelly money and the earnings Rose had made recently on sales of her faceless dolls.

No one will ever question it. My visit to the ravine is safe.

Chapter 33

B
randon gingerly sat on the edge of his hospital bed Sunday afternoon, fully dressed, his middle wrapped securely and his right arm in a cast. Hen had pulled up a chair as she attempted to encourage her husband, whose sight still had not returned. It was obvious he was depressed.

In the midst of Hen’s inability to reassure him, the on-call doctor came into the room. He glanced at Brandon with a smile. “Someone’s rarin’ to go home.” He directed his gaze to Hen, then continued. “We’ve studied the MRI test results, and I’m happy to say they’re normal. As soon as the paperwork is finished, you’re free to go.”

“That’s all great, but I still can’t see,” Brandon stated. “How am I supposed to function like this? I need to get back to work.”

Again, the doctor reiterated that the blindness was temporary. “Most probably.”

“Can’t you give me more to go on than that?” Brandon rubbed his eyes and grimaced. “I can’t even see light!”

The doctor assured him that given enough rest, his brain and his eyesight should fully recover.

Brandon needs my help,
Hen thought, reaching to touch his shoulder. This was more than he could manage on his own. “How about I take you home?” she offered. “We’ll get through this together.”

He turned toward her, surprise registered on his features. “You’d do that, Hen?”

Just then, she realized he might be confused, thinking she meant their house in town. “I’ll take you home with
me
.”

“Amishville?” he muttered, scowling. “I hope you’re not serious.”

The doctor waved at Hen. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, moving quickly to the door.

“Thank you for everything,” she called to the doctor.

He nodded and smiled. “Remember, rest is key.” Then he was gone.

Brandon sat there silently.

“I can best take care of you at the farm, Brandon,” she said more quietly. “It will also be more peaceful for you—fewer distractions while you heal.”

He hung his head. “I’m not going there.”

“All right, then. But don’t you need someone to help you get your bearings?” She wondered if his sister might return to stay with him. But when she asked, Brandon said Terry had used up all of her vacation time.

“Where’s the phone? I’ll see if I can stay with Lawrence . . . just until this nightmare’s over.”

Hen cringed inwardly but handed the receiver to Brandon to dial the number. Standing up, he shuffled about, looking so pitiful that Hen guided him back to the bed, where he sat while fingering the keypad on the phone. He talked himself through it, mumbling the whole time, as if picturing the keypad in his mind. It took more than a minute for him to locate the numbers to call his brother. Hen patiently stood by but did not assist him.

When Lawrence answered, Brandon greeted him warmly. Hen heard him ask if he might stay there for a while, but soon it was quite evident that Lawrence could not—or would not—accommodate Brandon’s request. He was too busy.

“What about your parents? Couldn’t they come stay with you?” Hen suggested when he’d hung up.

Brandon shook his head. “They have all kinds of holiday social commitments.” He blew air out of his mouth. “Besides, I don’t want to put them out.”

She waited, wondering what other options he might have.

Then, almost reluctantly, he said, “Why don’t you just take me to the house in town. I’ll figure out what to do when I get there. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to see later this afternoon.”

“Sure, I’ll drive you there . . . if that’s what you want.”

“I need to check on Wiggles, too.” He mentioned the neighbor who looked in on the new puppy when Brandon was at work. “I had Lawrence call her to let her know I might be in the hospital for a few days.”

She glanced around the room. “Did your briefcase come along with you after the accident?”

“I assume the nurse put my belongings somewhere nearby.”

Hen spotted what looked like a narrow closet near the door. “How’d you get dressed earlier?”

“Lawrence dropped off fresh clothes yesterday.” He shrugged. “And I had some help today.” A look of recognition crossed his determined face, and he stopped talking for a moment. He drew in a long, contemplative breath. “Okay, I see your point. I’m entirely dependent on someone.”

“Well, not really. It’s all how you think about things. For instance, there are only so many strides from the door of the Dawdi Haus to the kitchen table. And a certain number of steps to the stairway . . . you get the idea.” She paused. “And Mattie Sue will be thrilled to help out, of course.”

He shook his head slowly. “I don’t want my daughter to see me like this.”

“Okay. It’s your decision.” She opened the small closet and found his briefcase, car keys, and wallet. She placed his wallet and keys in his hand. “I’ll carry your briefcase, unless you want to.”

“I can do it.” He stuffed his wallet and keys in his pants pocket. He held out his good arm and took the briefcase from her, then winced as he remembered his broken ribs. “On second thought, maybe you’d better keep it.”

The nurse arrived with a wheelchair for Brandon, and when he was seated Hen placed the briefcase on his lap.

In the elevator on the way down to the main entrance, Brandon asked about the other driver. “Any idea how he’s doing?”

She hadn’t heard an update since yesterday but knew he was expected to remain in the hospital longer than Brandon due to a fractured vertebra and badly broken leg. “He may be worse off than you are . . . but I don’t know for sure.”

“I feel bad for the poor kid.” He shuddered just then.

His melancholy demeanor was typical after a head trauma, or so the booklet the doctor had given her had indicated. She’d also read that Brandon might experience confusion and disorientation, abrupt mood swings, and even weakness on one side of the body. He was no longer experiencing nausea, but his headache and broken bones were enough to warrant a prescription for pain medication.

Once downstairs, she headed to the parking spot and brought the car around to the entrance. A nurse wheeled Brandon out to the curb and helped him into the front passenger’s seat.

Hen thanked the nurse, then inched the car forward and out of the drive. Brandon mentioned something about maybe not staying at home after all.

“Your doctor did say yesterday it’s important for family to observe head injury patients for several weeks, even months,” she reminded him.

They rode for a ways before he relented. “Well, don’t expect me to wear that ridiculous black felt hat or those suspenders your father wears.”

She smiled to herself. “Deal. Let’s stop first to pick up some more of your clothes from the house. And Wiggles, too?”

Brandon turned toward her. “What day did you say it is?”

“The Lord’s Day.”

He ignored the religious reference. “I really need to contact Bruce Kramer, my business partner.”

“You can use the phone at the house while I find your clothes.” She smiled again. “I doubt I’ll have time to sew up a batch of britches for you.”

“Hen, please . . .”

“If you rest like the doctor said, you should be able to resume your work and return to the house in town in a couple of weeks.”

“Two weeks? Is that what he said?”

“Two weeks to two months,” she replied.

He groaned loudly, looking quite pathetic there in the passenger seat. “I hope you’re driving carefully,” he said. “I’m a little gun-shy about getting into a car. I’d prefer not to get creamed again.”

“Sounds like you might actually prefer some slower travel in a horse and buggy.”

He blanched. “No, Hen. I refuse to rot away in Amishville.”

“Why not think on the bright side? You might actually enjoy yourself and soak up the peace of the place. Besides, it’s almost Christmas, and Mattie Sue will be thrilled to spend it with you.”

The three of us
.

Hen sighed, her heart in her throat. “And if you still want to divorce me when you’re well again, that’ll be up to you.”

Rose held her breath and watched Hen lead Brandon carefully across the driveway after helping him out of the car. Wiggles was nestled in Hen’s free arm as Brandon stepped gingerly across the driveway. Rose’s heart sang, seeing her sister and husband make their way toward the backyard together. “Mattie Sue, come welcome your daddy home!” she quickly called up the stairs.

Mattie’s footsteps were on the stairs in an instant, and Rose went to look in on her mother. “Hen’s brought Brandon home from the hospital,” she said softly. “Isn’t that wonderful-
gut
?”

Mamm’s eyes were suddenly alert. “You don’t mean it!”

“Jah, it’s just amazing.”

Mamm looked at the ceiling, exhibiting her gratitude to God.

Rose excused herself to put on an old coat. Then she hurried to the back porch to welcome her brother-in-law. Mattie Sue was already chattering about the big cast on his arm and his bandaged forehead. Meanwhile, Beth peered out the back door, shaking her head no when Rose asked if she wanted to come meet Mattie Sue’s father.

“That’s all right,” Rose assured her. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Rose slipped her arm around Hen as Mattie Sue clung to Brandon’s uninjured arm. “I’m glad you’re both here,” said Rose softly.
At last . . .

Dat opened the door of his woodshop and came across the backyard, calling his greetings, as well. “
Willkumm,
son!”

Rose’s breath caught and she had to look away. Her father’s warmhearted greeting touched her so deeply. With all of her heart, she hoped Brandon understood just how truly it was meant.

Later in the afternoon, when Beth had finished eating an ice cream cone, Rose wiped off the table. Dat came into the kitchen from the sitting room where he’d been attending Mamm and glanced at the money jar. “Rosie, do ya know anything ’bout the extra money in there?” he asked. “A
gut
thirty dollars has just appeared—on the Lord’s Day, yet. More than I counted the other day.”

Caught, she bowed her head. She’d been naïve to think no one would notice. “Jah, Dat . . . I know about it.”

He tilted his head, eyeing her. “What’s to be ashamed of? Did ya sell some more of your little dolls?”

“Not lately.”

“Well, what then?”

“You might not remember, but Mamm took thirty dollars’ worth of bills and change to market . . . the day of her accident.”

His face turned white.

“Oh, Dat . . . I found the tin box with the money in it, behind a boulder near the crick . . . in the ravine.”

“
You
did?”

She paused. “Well, not exactly me.” Dare she reveal the full truth?

“Nick happened upon the box first. He took me there later to see it.”

His eyes locked on hers. “You . . . and Nick?”

She nodded.

He chuckled a little, his face still pale. “Well, I’ll be a horse’s knee.”

She’d never heard him talk so, and she bit her tongue, bracing herself for further questions.

Just at that moment, Beth came out of the bedroom. “Can you carry Mrs. Kauffman to the bathroom?” she asked shyly.

Immediately Dat turned without saying more, leaving Rose alone, her heart beating ever so hard.
Might’ve been better to leave the money where Nick first found it.
She wondered if Dat would also ask why she hadn’t brought the tin box home, as well. But he was occupied now, and Rose dismissed her concern. Actually, she rather liked the notion of a secret hiding place . . . especially because Nick had thought to leave his letter to her there.

And now mine’s there, too. . . .

Chapter 34

H
en’s heart was gladdened at her father and sister’s welcome of Brandon, but seeing Mattie Sue’s response earlier had been best of all.