Rebecca's Return (18 page)

“Mom got a big breakfast going?” Lester asked.

“Of course. Because I’m home,” Rebecca said.

“I thought so.” Lester grinned. “Good for all of us.”

“Why don’t I get big breakfasts?” Matthew protested.

“You will,” Lester told him. “Your turn is coming.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Matthew protested again.

“Because it’s true,” Rebecca said.

“Let’s get these cows milked,” Matthew said quickly, “so we can get to that breakfast.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Lester said, shutting the barnyard door and reaching for the water bucket to wash the cows’ udders.

Noting his dad’s agreement, Matthew grinned triumphantly.

Rebecca figured Matthew deserved these few moments of satisfaction.
Males need moral support too,
she thought wryly, remembering John’s actions last night.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-TWO

D
espite his late night, Isaac was up with the rising of the sun, needing no alarm clock to awaken him. There was plenty on his mind to disturb his sleep. Even in the light of day, things were still a little hazy.
Is John really in the hospital, or did I just imagine it?

The empty place in the bed beside him confirmed his memory. The whole house was empty and quiet.
Yes, John really is hurt and in the hospital.

The silence pressed in on Isaac. It dampened his spirits, and he tried to shake the sense of something missing. He reminded himself that life was in the hands of God and that in such faith he could rest secure. Feeling somewhat better, he got dressed and went to the kitchen, hungry for breakfast. It was there he missed Miriam again, the emotion striking him hard.

There was no hot meal waiting, so Isaac reached for the cold cereal that Miriam kept for occasional use. Bringing it out, he thumped the cereal down disgustedly on the table. From the picture on the box, the cereal looked edible, but he knew from past experiences how such prepared food tasted.

Isaac halfheartedly poured the cornflakes into the bowl, the dry flakes rustling as they tumbled from the box, sounding like his bones trying to get going in the morning. Adding milk and sugar, he ate, but his spirits were sinking again.

Aden would be over soon, checking for news before opening his store. Isaac really didn’t want to be caught eating this stuff, so he kept glancing out the kitchen window.

In the old days, the folks didn’t even know what cornflakes were. Well, the real old folks, he amended his thoughts. He ate faster than he should have, the cold milk hurting his teeth and forcing him to slow down. He finished just in time to see Aden walking across the front yard, frosty mist rising with each breath.

Opening the front door, Isaac let him in.

“Any news?” Aden asked, standing just inside the front door, rubbing his hands together.

“Left Miriam at the hospital for the night,” Isaac said. “John was still in a coma then, and the doctor didn’t really know anything beyond a severe skull facture.”

“They doing more tests?”

“A scan this morning. He got hit in the head pretty hard.”

“Figure it’s serious?”

A worried look crossed Isaac’s face. “
Da Hah
knows, I guess.”

“Whose fault was the accident?”

“Officer was sure it wasn’t John’s. I talked to one of them at the scene.”

“Has Rebecca been told?”

“No. Miriam thought we’d better wait.”

“Engaged—aren’t they?”

Isaac nodded. “John just told us. Someone needs to tell her soon, I suppose.”

“I’ll send Sharon down right away.”

Isaac wrinkled his brow. “It could be quite a shock. Maybe someone else should go. Someone older.”

“Well,” Aden allowed, “You’re probably right. Sharon’s a little young to deliver such news. I’ll send my wife.”

“Esther would be better.” Isaac looked relieved. “Tell her everything we know.”

“You think that’s wise?” Aden didn’t look too certain.

“It’s best,” Isaac assured him. “She’ll find out anyway. Better that she hear it as soon as possible.”

“I’ll tell Esther then. You want to call the hospital?”

“Yah.” Isaac didn’t have to think long on that. “I’ll be down in a little while. Probably visit later—depending.”

“You need a fresh horse? Yours is probably worn out from last night.”

“I could.” Isaac nodded his appreciation.

“You can use ours then—after you call. Let us know if you need anything else.”

“I will,” Isaac assured him, as he watched Aden open and go out the door. Glumly Isaac returned to the kitchen and rinsed out his cereal bowl. This day looked long and weary, stretching out in front of him as one long hard road.

The thought of hospital bills came to Isaac suddenly and forcefully, even as he noticed a police cruiser pull up the driveway. No doubt they were coming to ask questions about the accident. But neither John nor he had money for large hospital bills. Yet
Da Hah
would surely see to the need, perhaps through help from the church. Still the load felt heavy on his shoulders.

He recognized the female officer climbing out of the cruiser. A man accompanied her, which was puzzling, but maybe he was a detective, come to find the man who had done this to John. Hoping the questions for him wouldn’t go there, Isaac walked to the front door. Last night he had found a peace about the accident.
Da Hah
had allowed it, and there would be no prosecution effort from him or John even if the officers knew who had done this. Isaac believed that vengeance was in the hand of God and so was the seeking of justice.

Isaac opened the door before his visitors knocked.

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” Beatrice said, greeting him. “I was the officer you spoke to last night.”

“I remember,” Isaac told Beatrice, adding nothing else. It would be best, he figured, to see what the law wanted before answering any questions.

“This is my husband, Andy,” Beatrice said rather uneasily. “Mr. Miller, my husband has something he’d like to tell you.” And then she stepped back slightly so that Andy was in front of her.

“Yes?” Isaac looked at the man.

Andy fidgeted a little, glancing quickly up at Isaac and then back to the ground. Isaac figured he must look strange to the man, his white beard still a little unkempt, his shirttails half-tucked in, one suspender up on a shoulder, the other hanging to the side.

“Mr. Miller, I was the one who hit your son last night,” Andy stammered. He quickly added, “I’m very sorry.”

There was silence as Isaac processed the information. “You must come in then,” he stated simply. “It’s more comfortable in the living room.”

“But…” Andy was clearly flustered.

Isaac held open the door. Beatrice shrugged her shoulders but led the way in.

“I would serve you coffee,” Isaac said, motioning them farther inside, “but the wife’s not home.”

Andy took the couch, cleared his throat, and said, “I’m not sure you understood me, Mr. Miller. I really shouldn’t be in your house.”

“I understood you,” Isaac told him in a patient tone. “You hit my son. The Lord has allowed it.”

“I got scared and ran,” Andy added, a look on his face implying he wanted to tell it all.

Isaac saw Beatrice’s face out of the corner of his eye. She kept silent but looked intent, very interested in this exchange. He ran his hand down his long beard, lifting his eyes to Andy’s face. “You have done a great wrong to John and…to us.”

Andy was keeping his eyes on Isaac’s face, not flinching from the stern words.

Isaac continued, “It is in God’s hands as to what His judgment will be. It is in our hands to forgive.”

“You…” Andy still had his eyes on Isaac’s face. “I just hit your son—one of the holy people.”

A gentle smile softened Isaac’s face. “No, son,” he said, “we are just like other men and woman. It is but the Lord’s grace that any of us make it.” Isaac pointed toward the sky. “Are you at peace with God?”

Andy looked startled. “I—I don’t know.”

“Then you have a much greater problem than hitting someone’s buggy,” Isaac said slowly, “even if he is in the hospital and is my son. You must think on the coming judgment, Andy, when the Lord judges all sin and unrighteousness.”

“I—I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” Andy stammered, at last finding his voice.

“We can forgive you for what happened last night,” Isaac said, “but only the Lord can forgive all your sins. All of us must repent from our sins, do works worthy of the Lord’s grace. It is the Lord’s blood that cleanses us—shed that day when He died.”

Andy said nothing, but listened. “I’ll think about it,” he finally said.

Isaac nodded, lost in sober thought.

“My insurance company will pay for your hospital bills,” Andy spoke up.

“Oh, yes, the bills.” Isaac seemed to see Andy again. “If it is the Lord’s will, that’s good,” he finally said. “It wasn’t John’s fault, but the hospital bill is all that will be paid.”

“I see,” Andy said meekly. “I’m being charged too—with a criminal offense.”

“That is in the law’s hands,” Isaac said thoughtfully. “You must take it as instruction from the hand of God, needed for your benefit. Do not fight it, but we will not press charges.”

“I see,” Andy said, glancing toward Beatrice for the first time.

Beatrice shrugged her shoulders.

Isaac thought she looked pleased. “It’s for your best,” Isaac said, rising from his seat, the discussion obviously over. “I need to be calling my wife.” With that he ushered them out with the same quiet manner he had asked them in.

“Well! He told you good,” Beatrice said, once they got back in the cruiser.

“Yeah,” Andy said, letting his breath out slowly.

“You’d better listen,” she said, giving him a stern look.

“I will,” he said meekly, a strange tone in his voice.

“I’ll be watching you,” she said, putting the cruiser in drive and pulling onto Wheat Ridge Road.

But Andy wasn’t paying attention. He seemed to be thinking—and thinking hard.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-THREE