Winter of Wishes (19 page)

“
Jah
, Pop,” the boys murmured in unison.

As Joey and Josh went to stand in their corners, Rhoda felt secretly relieved that
they had misbehaved, distracting their
dat
from his lecture. This discussion had embarrassed their guests and spoiled the visiting
Mamma had been looking forward to—especially since Rebecca had joined them for this
holiday dinner. The pork roast was especially tender and tasty, seasoned with garlic
powder and dill, the way Mamma baked it in the café. Jerusalem had brought the pretty
cinnamon apples and the fresh broccoli, while Nazareth had provided dessert and their
relish tray, all prepared yesterday so they would do minimal work on the Sabbath.

But Rhoda had lost her appetite. She laid her fork on her plate and sat with her hands
in her lap. Now that Hiram was returning to his table, however, everyone else seemed
to be eating faster, the sooner to be finished so they could escape the table and
the unpleasantness he had created.

Bless her, Rebecca broke the uncomfortable silence while she spooned up some of Mamma’s
strawberry jam to spread on her oatmeal roll. “This food is
so
good, and I think it’s so cool the way you aunts brought some of these dishes with
you,” she said with a grin for the Hooley sisters. Then she took a huge bite of her
soft, warm roll, closing her eyes as though she’d never tasted anything as delicious.
“I can’t wait to move into the apartment with Rhoda, and I’m hoping all of you wonderful-
gut
cooks will share your know-how with me.”

“And I can’t wait to have ya close by, honey-bug,” Mamma replied softly.

Seeing how she’d made everyone smile again, Rebecca continued in a rising voice. “We
could put recipes from local ladies on the Sweet Seasons website. And any dishes that
use the specialty grains Ira and Luke will process in their mill could be put up on
the site, too—with photos, so folks will taste how good your food is just from looking
at it. They’ll
have
to come here to enjoy some or to get the ingredients from the Mill at Willow Ridge!”

“I like the sound of that,” Luke said with a nod.

“Jah,”
Ira agreed, “folks who’ve never cooked with quinoa or millet are more likely to try
those grains if they have recipes—especially if they can sample them when they come
to check us out.”

“We could host a grand opening, with a tasting table,” his brother chimed in. “We
were going to try that in Lancaster, but we never got around to finding gals who would
bake up what we needed.”

“What a
gut
idea!” Nellie Knepp exclaimed. “I could do that bakin’ for ya! And if ya need somebody
to work in your shop, I’d be able to help out most any day, after school.”

Behind them, Hiram loudly cleared his throat. “Are you not listening to yourselves,
my friends? And have you not heard my warning to Rhoda?” he demanded in the voice
he used when he was preaching. “Sounds to me like Willow Ridge will soon be on the
level of Bird-in-Hand or Paradise, in Lancaster County, where the traffic is bumper-to-bumper
and the shops teem with people. It’s not our mission to create such a tourist trap.
We would become far too worldly with so many English traipsing through our shops.”

Once again Rhoda bit back a retort. Hadn’t the Hooley brothers built their mill with
just such a shop in mind? And wouldn’t every business in Willow Ridge benefit from
the attention the new websites would generate? As she noticed how Mamma’s eyebrows
rose and Ben pressed his lips into a tight line, Rhoda wondered how the folks around
this table would vote, come time to accept Hiram back into good standing.

What happens when a bishop loses the approval and trust of his flock, Lord? Seems
Hiram has peeved several members today
—
and this after he shocked us all by ownin’ a car. Yet Ya chose him to serve us for
the rest of his life.

These were issues few Plain communities ever faced, because following the leadership
of the bishop and the other preachers was a basic tenet of their faith. Yet as serious
as this issue was, it gave Rhoda a moment of hope.
Maybe folks’ll be so concerned about him that my confession will seem like small potatoes
next Sunday.

On Friday afternoon, Rhoda lettered and hung the sign Mamma had asked her to put on
the door:

She finished wiping down the tables and then gazed out the café’s front window. It
was blessedly quiet in the Sweet Seasons after a mighty busy day. It seemed as though
all the locals were getting in a few last meals today and tomorrow before the place
closed on Monday for a couple of weeks. The morning snowfall had wrapped Willow Springs
in a fresh white blanket, adding to the hush . . . a sense that once she wasn’t waiting
tables, her life would be very, very quiet even with the excitement of Mamma’s wedding
preparations.

Naomi and Hannah had headed home. Rachel had left with Micah for another weekend of
collecting wedding gifts, this time visiting kin near Richmond and Carrollton. Mamma
was in the kitchen baking a special order of pies and treats for an employee Christmas
party at the regional hospital.

Rhoda desperately wanted to help deliver those goodies tomorrow afternoon, imagining
she’d have a chance of seeing Andy. It was silly, of course, to believe he’d be working
that particular shift or that she’d catch sight of him among all the other folks there,
but it gave her something pleasant to think about . . . instead of fretting over her
confession this Sunday.

“You okay, Rhoda?” Rebecca had cleaned the big coffeemaker and was preparing the first
batch of tomorrow’s water and coffee. “You haven’t seemed like your usual perky self
today, Sister.”

Rhoda shrugged. How did she describe her feelings, her fears, to someone who hadn’t
grown up in the Amish church? “Just wishin’ my ordeal with Hiram was behind me,” she
murmured. “What with the bishops from New Haven and Morning Star bein’ in charge,
there’s no tellin’ how things might go.”

Rebecca came to stand beside her at the window, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
“I bet you’re missing those two kids and Andy, too,” she said in a low voice. “I can
certainly see why. What a nice family they are—and as crazy for you as you are for
them. Not to criticize your Plain ways, but it seems awfully . . .
harsh
for Hiram to forbid you to see them again, and to declare he won’t allow Andy to
join your church, either.”

“
Jah
, I’ve been turnin’ that over and over in my mind,” Rhoda murmured. “The Old Ways
have been followed for centuries, yet now that it’s
me
goin’ to my knees, it all seems unfair.” She sighed. “I guess that’s the way of it.
So—when’re ya movin’ in with me, Sister? I’m lookin’ forward to your company.”

Rebecca chuckled at the abrupt change in topic. “I think we should allow Mamma and
Ben to enjoy all their wedding excitement before I start hauling my stuff here. But,
gee—that’s only two weeks away!”

“
Jah
, and I’ve told her I’ll do the bakin’ for the feast,” Rhoda replied. “Figured it’d
be a real
gut
afternoon to bake her coconut cake layers and the sheet cakes, too. I’ll put them
in the freezer so Rachel can decorate them when she gets back. She’s steadier with
a pastry tube than I am, ya see.”

“
Puh!
I can’t think of a thing you’re not really good at, Rhoda,” her sister insisted.
“And I hope you’ll let me help with—oh my, here comes a sleigh! No, two of them!”

They hurried to the front window to watch. Rhoda shielded her eyes with her hand,
squinting into the sun’s glare. “
Jah
, and they’ve got those horses runnin’ awful fast in that fresh snow, too.” Rhoda
squinted into the sun’s glare. “Why, that’s Levi and Cyrus Zook in the green sleigh.”

“The boys in the black sleigh are so short, I can hardly see that anybody’s driving
it.” Rebecca cupped her hands against the glass to shade her eyes.

“Ohhh, that’s because it’s the Knepp twins,” Rhoda murmured, shaking her head. “Hiram
and Jerusalem are gonna pitch a fit when they find out—oh my stars, they’re headin’
onto the blacktop. We’ve gotta stop this.”

Rhoda rushed out the front door, hollering as loudly as she could. “Get outta the
road! If a car comes, it’s too slick to—”

Wild, childish laughter rang out in the crisp air as reins clapped on the horses’
backs. One of the horses whinnied and their hoofbeats sped faster as the two sleighs
approached the Sweet Seasons. Rhoda kept running at them, waving her arms above her
head even as her shoes slipped on the packed snow in the parking lot. “Pull in here,
outta the—Joey, a car’s comin’!” she shrieked when a vehicle topped the hill, approaching
the two sleighs from behind.

“Car’s coming!” Rebecca echoed behind her, pointing frantically toward the car.

Levi Zook motioned for Cyrus to pull into the Lantzes’ lane. The Knepp boys, however,
were caught up in being ahead in the race and they had far less driving experience.
As they flew past her, Rhoda again yelled at them. “Joey! Josh! Pull over! Car coming!”

“Boys, get outta the road!” Ben hollered. He had no doubt heard Rhoda screaming as
he worked in his farrier shop. He rushed around her and Rebecca, jogging as fast as
the slick pavement allowed.

Rhoda’s heart flew up into her throat. The driver of the car had finally spotted the
sleigh, but when he jammed on the brakes, the car fishtailed crazily. The horn honked
again and again until the car went into a full spin.

The next few moments took on a sense of slow-motion unreality as Rhoda watched in
horror, gripping her sister’s hand: the Knepp’s Belgian, spooked by the blaring horn,
swung around in the middle of the road. The sleigh whipped across the slick surface
in an arc, tossing the twins out of the seat. A deafening whinny blended with the
boys’ cries, and when the spinning car’s back end struck the terrified horse, Rhoda
knew that sickening
thud
would live on in her memory. The Belgian kept screaming as it fell to the pavement,
held captive by the sleigh’s metal shafts. The sleigh continued to slide until the
weight of the horse stopped it. The car careened into the ditch.

Then, silence.

Rhoda stood frozen, with Rebecca’s hand her only grip on reality. Ben resumed his
running. “Josh! Joey!” he called out hoarsely. The Zook boys, their faces as pale
as the snow, had hitched their horse to the rail by the café. As they, too, made their
way across the parking lot, Rhoda came out of her shock.

“Get Mamma,” she told Rebecca. “We’ve got to call Hiram—I’m callin’ Andy first, though.”

“And call 9-1-1,” Rebecca added.

Rhoda hurried to the phone shanty out back, aware now that she hadn’t grabbed her
coat, but there was no time for that. Thank goodness she’d tucked the little ad with
Andy’s number on it into the drawer of the phone table. As she punched the numbers,
she tried to focus her thoughts.
Dear Lord, please be with Josh and Joey and all of us who’re scramblin’ to get help
over here—and please let Andy be at—

“Hello?” came a voice through the receiver.

“Andy! Ya gotta come, quick! There’s been a sleigh wreck, right here at the café.
Hiram’s little boys got thrown out onto the road, and—”

“I’m on my way. Cover them, and don’t move them or let them get up.”
Click.

Rhoda tried to catch her breath and slow her runaway heartbeat. Cold wind blew into
the shanty with Mamma, who shut the door behind her as Rhoda was hanging up. The heavy
coat she’d brought felt awfully good as her mother held it so Rhoda could put her
arms into its sleeves.

“Mamma, Andy’s comin’, but Rebecca thinks we should call the ambulance, too,” Rhoda
said as she tied on her bonnet. “Ya know how Hiram feels about gettin’ doctors involved.
He wouldn’t take Linda—his own wife—to the hospital when she was havin’ trouble deliverin’
that last poor baby, so the both of them died.”

“We’re callin’ 9-1-1,” Mamma declared quietly. “We’ve got English folks in that car
to consider, and I’ll not have it on my conscience that we didn’t do everything possible
for the twins. If the bishop doesn’t like my decision, well, it won’t be the first
time.”

Nodding, Rhoda punched 9-1-1 and gave the operator the information she asked for.
The regional hospital was on the far side of Morning Star, so it might be several
minutes before the ambulance arrived . . . yet another reason Rhoda was thankful she
had gotten to know Andy Leitner. She would probably be in deeper trouble, come Sunday,
for defying the bishop’s order not to see Andy again, but what if Josh and Joey had
serious internal injuries? What if they didn’t regain consciousness, or—heaven forbid—what
if one or both of them died? She would never forgive herself if they passed on for
lack of proper care . . .

“We need to call Hiram now, although I sent the Zook boys over there in case nobody
hears the phone,” Mamma said. “Rebecca has run to the quilt shop for blankets and
the Schrocks’ help—”

“I—I’ve never been so scared in my life, Mamma,” Rhoda rasped as she dialed the bishop’s
number. She didn’t realize she’d started crying, but fat tears were plopping onto
the tabletop. “Both boys got thrown from the sleigh. Rebecca and I saw the whole—
jah
, Jerusalem?” she said into the phone. “We’ve had a horrible accident here by the
Sweet Seasons. Hiram needs to come right away. Josh and Joey got thrown out of the
sleigh when a car spooked their horse, and—”

“Oh, my Lord! Hiram’s off visitin’ an English client. If they don’t answer their phone
I’ll send Annie Mae to get him,” the
maidel
gasped. “I’ll be right there. Don’t let anything bad happen to my little boys!”

As Rhoda and Mamma came around to the front of the café, Rebecca had reached the road
with Mary and Eva Schrock close behind her, all of them carrying quilts. Seth and
Aaron Brenneman, who were working on the new house, had come out to see what all the
honking was about. The two young men joined Ben at the ditch, their faces grim as
they approached the two little boys, who had landed about ten feet apart. Joey and
Josh were too still, sprawled on the snowy ground with their arms and legs spread
in unnatural positions.

Rebecca dropped her quilts and turned away suddenly, her face pale. “Oh, this doesn’t
look good. I’m going over to see about the car’s driver.”

Mamma nodded and grabbed Rhoda’s hand as they carefully walked closer. The horse let
out an agonized cry, flailing as it lifted its head. Its hind legs were bent the wrong
direction, and as Aaron brought a blanket to cover it, he was shaking his head. “Gonna
have to put this poor fella down,” he murmured. “I’ve got to wonder what those boys
were doin’—how they came to be out racin’ around with the sleigh and one of their
dat
’s Belgians.”

“We’ve got a lot of explainin’ to hear,” Mamma agreed in a tight voice. “It’s a
gut
thing the Zook boys pulled over. Except that leaves them to do the explainin’.”

Ben looked up from tucking a quilt around one of the twins. “Aaron, I keep a pistol
in my farrier trailer for times like this. Look in the drawer of the nightstand up
at the front end.”

As the youngest Brenneman brother took off across the road, Rhoda tried not to think
about a beautiful animal losing its life, or the boys’ frightening stillness. She
moved in beside Ben with another quilt. “Andy Leitner’s on his way. Says to cover
them and not to move them. I think this is Joey, but I can’t always tell them apart
unless they’re talkin’,” she murmured. She glanced over to the other twin, shaking
her head. “They were ridin’ high, racin’ the Zooks without payin’ one bit of attention
to traffic . . .”

Ben lifted his head from Joey’s chest. “Thank the
gut
Lord he’s breathin’, but it’s awful shallow. He won’t be sneakin’ out with one of
his
dat
’s horses again anytime soon.” He glanced toward Seth, who was wrapping a quilt around
the other twin. “How’s he doin’? Got a pulse?”

“
Jah
, and he’s startin’ to moan. Gonna be in perty fierce pain, what with this arm broke
and maybe a leg.”

A single shot rang out. Rhoda clenched her teeth to keep from crying. At least Hiram’s
poor horse was out of its misery, while the bishop’s boys might suffer a long while
yet.

The sound of an approaching car made them all look up. Ben sprang to the edge of the
road, waving his arms to warn the driver away from the horse and Aaron, who still
knelt beside its body.

At the sight of the familiar vehicle, Rhoda’s shoulders relaxed a bit: Andy had arrived,
so surely this heart-wrenching situation would improve. He quickly surveyed the scene
and moved toward them, gripping his medical bag. “What happened?” he asked in a low,
no-nonsense voice.

As Rhoda recounted the way the twins had been thrown from the sleigh, Andy did a fast
once-over on each boy before beginning a more thorough examination on the one she
was kneeling beside. “I hear sirens,” he murmured gratefully. “Wasn’t sure you’d call
for help.”

“Hiram’ll no doubt give us a piece of his mind for that,” Mamma replied, “but I thought
it best, partly because of whoever was drivin’ that car.”

Rhoda looked down the road, relieved to see her sister talking with that driver as
he leaned against the car, which was nose down in the snow-filled ditch. “Well, that
fella’s up walkin’ around, anyway. Probably more scared than hurt, if he was wearin’
his seat belt.”

Andy was gently rolling Joey onto his back, checking for broken bones and whatever
else his skilled hands might detect. When he placed his stethoscope to the boy’s chest,
however, his expression tightened. He checked inside Joey’s mouth, pinched his nostrils
shut, and then breathed down his throat . . . inhaled deeply and breathed into him
again.