Where Grace Abides (25 page)

He dismissed Samuel Beiler from his mind right away. He had known Beiler for several years, had delivered two of his sons, and treated his late wife during her illness. He'd found the Amish deacon to be a seemingly cold man with an unmistakable disdain for anyone outside the Plain People's community. Even with David, his own family physician, he had rejected any overture of friendliness.

Besides, he had known—no, he'd
suspected
—certain things about Beiler that to this day stirred in him a dark uneasiness. He wouldn't be comfortable speaking to him about the bishop or anyone else.

Abe Gingerich was one of their two ministers and a good man. So was Malachi Esch.

He knew immediately that he would be most at ease speaking with Malachi. He disliked the idea of burdening the man, who was undoubtedly still grieving the loss of his wife, Phoebe. But perhaps when and if the need arose to alert someone to the bishop's failing health, a sufficient length of time would have passed that Malachi might have moved beyond the grieving process.

For now he thought the best he could do would be to monitor the bishop's condition and say nothing. He could also hope it would ultimately be unnecessary for him to consult anyone else, that either the bishop himself or a family member would take care of that part of things. After all, he found it hard to believe that no one else had noticed the changes in Bishop Graber. Surely at least a member of the family or perhaps one of the ministerial brethren had seen signs of the bishop's failing health and mental illness.

His mind circled back to Ellie Sawyer and her husband. He did
think he might mention his concern for the couple to Gant. After all, it seemed only fair that his friend be alert to the fact that his part-time employee might not be around too long.

Clearly Sawyer's wife suspected that might be the case.

 
30
 
W
ORDS FROM A
F
RIEND

Did you know that I waited and listened and prayed,
And was cheered by your simplest word?

A
UTHOR
U
NKNOWN

W
hen Gant heard that Doc had been in town looking for him earlier in the day, on impulse he decided to pay him a visit that same evening.

Gant wondered if anything in particular had brought him to the shop. Even if that wasn't the case, he had a question or two of his own he wanted to raise with his friend. Besides, they hadn't talked alone in quite some time. They were due for a visit.

He hoped he might catch a glimpse of Rachel if she happened to be outside as he went by, so he slowed Flann to an ambling walk. But when there was no sign of her, he signaled the big gelding to resume his earlier pace as they went on down the road.

In front of Doc's house, Gant stayed in the saddle a moment, his gaze scanning the property. Thanks to Doc Sebastian's generous offer, this was where he had stayed during the final weeks of his recovery after being shot last winter.

It was a small house, owned and sometimes used by Doc Sebastian—mostly in the winter—to be closer to his Amish patients when the weather was bad or when he had an expectant mother nearby about to deliver. But after beginning the process to turn Amish
and becoming engaged to Susan Kanagy, the doctor had sold his home place, a farm between Riverhaven and Marietta, and took up residence here, at the far edge of the Plain People's community.

Over the past couple of months, he'd had an extension added for office space. Gant had done some of the work, Gideon part of it, as well. Of course, Doc and Susan planned to live at her farm after their marriage, but he would still need at least a small office, and with some more work and redecorating, this place should serve him well.

Because he had been a physician to the Amish for several years, once he made his vows for conversion and married Susan, he would still be practicing medicine—but only among the Amish. The bishop had stipulated there would be no outside “doctoring” to others. Gant saw this as one more example of too much control on the part of the Amish leadership, but even though Doc admitted that he didn't like this turn of events, it came as no surprise—he'd expected his practice would be limited after his conversion.

In fact, Doc being the man he was, had already been contacting other physicians and medical colleges in an attempt to attract another doctor to the area.

Gant had liked staying here during his recovery. He'd enjoyed getting to know some of the Amish neighbors, and he'd appreciated the quiet, natural beauty of the countryside.

Over time, however, he'd become aware that the seeming peace of his surroundings was a deceptive one, for the Riverhaven Amish had been plagued with an ongoing series of vandalism, pranks, and thefts.

Eventually the harassment escalated to an attack on Rachel's little sister, Fannie. The girl had been tormented by a group of boys she believed to be
Englisch.
They had teased her, shoved her, and actually kicked her about until she fell unconscious in the snow.

Fannie recovered, but not Phoebe Esch, the latest victim of the horrors wreaked upon these good people. No doubt Phoebe's death had left the entire community wondering what might come next.

Suddenly the screened door at the front of the house swung open, and Doc stepped outside.

“Well. Are you going to sit out there admiring my house the rest of the day, or are you coming in?” Doc chided him.

Gant grinned, his spirits brightening somewhat at the other's good-natured dig. He had no doubt but what he could look forward to more of the same for the rest of the evening.

It was still early in October, but the evening was cold—cold enough that Gant's bad leg had begun to ache even more than usual by evening.

Inside Doc had a nice fire going. “Ah,” said Gant, going to stand in front of the fireplace. “That feels good.”

Doc returned from the kitchen with two mugs of warm apple cider. He handed a cup to Gant. “Or would you rather have coffee?” he asked.

Gant shook his head. “Not at all. Susan make this?”

“She and Rachel. Fannie led me to believe that she also helped.”

Gant smiled. “No doubt.”

“All the women have been buzzing around, busy as can be, what with the harvest and the extra work it brings for them. Every time I make a call, I come away with a jar of apple butter or a gallon of sweet cider. Remind me, and I'll send some of their handiwork home with you.”

“That's an offer I'll not turn down.”

Doc sat down in front of the fire, but Gant waited a few minutes more, letting the heat seep through him before taking a chair.

“The leg doesn't like the cold, I expect,” Doc said.

Grant pulled a face. “It's not even that cold out. I hadn't thought it would be this sensitive.”

“It'll be worse as you get older.”

“Ah. Something else to look forward to.”

“Heard anything from Gideon and Asa?”

“I had a note from one of the stations they'd stopped at recently. They were both good, and so far there hasn't been much in the way of trouble.”

“Susan worries, not only about their safety, but she frets about Gideon getting back in time for the wedding. I do hope he makes it. She'll be crushed if he doesn't.”

“Well, once they get to Canton, they'll be relieved by someone else, and they can head back. They should make it home in plenty of time.”

“Good.” Doc took a sip of his cider.

Watching him Gant felt fairly certain the man had something on his mind besides the wedding. “Something wrong?” he said.

Doc paused, his expression still thoughtful. “Not exactly, but there's something I think you should be aware of.”

He went on then to explain the conversation he'd had with Ellie Sawyer and the concern she'd expressed about her husband possibly moving on without her for a time.

Gant thought about that and discovered that he wasn't all that surprised. “I've seen the restlessness in him. He's a fella who can't sit still more than a few minutes at a time, and he's forever talking about ‘when they get to Indiana.' No, I can't say it would be any great shock to hear that he's leaving before they can actually afford for him to go. Too bad, though. I don't mind helping out his wife in his absence, and she'll get help from other folks around town once they hear she needs it—but it's not fair to her. Not at all. Seems to me the right thing would be for him to wait until she and the baby are fit to go with him.”

Doc nodded his agreement. “Suppose it would do any good if one of us was to talk with him?”

“We could try, I suppose, but I have my doubts. He's a roaming
sort, I suspect, and when a man has the wanderlust, there's not much chance of holding him back.”

“Why do I think you're speaking from experience?”

Gant shrugged. “I'll not deny it. I know what it's like, at least I used to.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a time before Doc stretched both arms out in front of him as if to ease the tension from his back. “So—shall we have a game?”

The two spent many an evening trying to best each other at checkers. Both fiercely competitive, they seldom passed up a chance to play. But at the moment, Gant had another matter on his mind. “Maybe later. There's something I want to ask you about first.”

Doc set his cup on the table beside him. “All right.”

Gant searched for just the right words. After all, Doc was well on his way to being an Amish man himself, and there seemed to be all number of matters the Plain People refused to discuss. He had no desire to offend his closest friend, but this thing with Samuel Beiler had been simmering in him ever since the day the man had come into his shop.

“If you don't want to answer this, it's all right. I don't mean to put you on the spot, but what I'm wanting to know is would an Amish man give what might be considered a somewhat costly gift—not just a small and impersonal one—to an Amish woman if they're not married or at least engaged?” He paused. “More to the point, would she
accept
such a gift?”

Doc frowned studying him. “Does this have something to do with you and Rachel?”

“Just tell me what you think based on your knowledge of the Amish.”

Doc eyed him with a speculative look. “Well. I suppose it might depend on the circumstances, but I'd say it's highly unlikely on both parts. Even if he should make the gesture, I'm fairly certain she would refuse. Amish relationships, even their courting customs,
are guided by secrecy and very strict standards. A couple won't even discuss their romantic interests with their own parents. And as far as special gifts are concerned—it simply isn't done, except from a man to his wife or perhaps between engaged couples. I'd have to ask Susan to be sure I'm right, but even with an engaged couple, I doubt there would be an exchange of anything but a token gift, perhaps a small something in remembrance of one or the other's birthday.”

He stopped and then added, “Does that answer your question?”

Gant quickly processed Doc's explanation before replying. “Aye, it confirms my own assumption.”

“As I said I'd have to get Susan's opinion to be sure, but I believe I'm right.”

“No, best not to say anything to Susan.”

“So it
does
have to do with you and Rachel.”

“Rachel perhaps. Nothing to do with me.”

Doc lifted an eyebrow. “Another man besides you is giving Rachel a significant gift?
Who
?”

Gant looked at him, wondering just how much he should say. Still, he trusted David Sebastian more than any other man besides Asa. And he needed to get this off his chest before it ate a hole in his heart.

“Might I ask you to say nothing to Susan?”

Doc seemed to consider that. “We don't keep secrets from each other—”

Gant nodded to show he understood.

“But if it's that important to you, I'll keep your confidence, so long as she can't be hurt by not knowing.”

“This has nothing to do with Susan, my hand on it. Only Rachel.”

He stopped, waiting for his friend's reply.

“All right, then.”

“It's about Samuel Beiler.”

Doc's expression darkened. “What about him?”

“He came into the shop the other day and placed an order for a sideboard for Rachel. For her birthday.”

Doc's mouth thinned to a hard line, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Gant. “I find that a bit strange.”

Gant sat forward. “So did I. More peculiar still, I had the distinct feeling that he didn't think I'd agree to do it.”

“But if that's the case, why would he place an order with you?”

Gant expelled a long breath. “This may sound stranger still, but my sense was that he was deliberately trying to goad me, or at least he meant to make it clear that he and Rachel…are a couple. He seemed genuinely surprised when I agreed to make the sideboard.”