An Amish Match (15 page)

“I don't think it matters,” she said with a sigh. “Timothy isn't going to tell me the time of day at this point. Let me see if I can mend fences with him before you get involved. I don't want him to think we're siding together against him.”

He nodded reluctantly. His son needed to show Rebekah respect, but trying to talk sense to Timothy when they both were upset might make matters worse in the long run. But didn't Rebekah owe him the truth, too, about why she was again acting as skittish as a doe?

He couldn't ask. Not when her color was a strained gray beneath her summer tan. He urged her to come inside and allow him to get her something cool to drink.

Maybe later she would tell him why she suddenly found his touch abhorrent.

Please, God!

* * *

A crash reverberated through the house, and Joshua sat up in bed. Rain splattered on the window, but that hadn't been thunder. It had been louder and much closer.

He leaped out of his bed and banged his head on the slanted ceiling. He rubbed the aching spot but didn't slow as he raised the shade on the window.

At the end of the driveway a car was stopped. Its lights were at an odd angle, one aiming up into the trees and the other on the grass. It couldn't be on the road any longer.

He grabbed his boots and shoved his bare feet into them. He threw open his door. When Debbie peeked sleepily out of her room, he ordered her in a whisper to go back to bed and stay there. He didn't want her to wake her brothers who were heavier sleepers. Even more important, he didn't want her to follow him out to the car in case someone was badly hurt.

His boots clumped on the stairs and he realized he should have laced up their tops to hold them on more tightly. Too late now to worry about waking up Rebekah and Sammy.

“Joshua?” he heard as he reached the bottom step.

Rebekah stood in the bedroom doorway. She wore a sweater over her nightgown. It could not reach across her distended belly, but she tugged at it.

He reached for the door. “There's a car at the end of the drive. Its lights are shining all wrong.”

“A crash?”

“That's what I'm going to find out.”

By the time he reached the front door, the rain was coming down hard. He grabbed an umbrella from the crock by the door. After throwing the screen door aside, he went out on the porch. He opened the umbrella and handed it to Rebekah, who had, as he'd expected, followed him from the house.

“Stay here,” he ordered over a rumble of thunder.

“I'll wake Timothy.”

“He may not be home yet.”

Even in the darkness, he saw her face grow ashen. Her voice shook as she said, “Then I'll wake Levi. If someone is hurt, he can run to the Beilers' barn and use their phone to call an ambulance.” She glanced toward their
Englisch
neighbors' house. Light glowed in the windows. “The Grangers are up. He can go there. It's closer.”

He nodded, relieved that she hadn't argued about coming with him. He turned up the collar on his coat before running down the steps. The grass was slick. Flashes of lightning illuminated the sky and blinded him as darkness dropped around him and thunder boomed above him. He almost lost his footing twice on the grass, so he went toward the driveway. The gravel would be easier to run on. He saw someone moving by the bright red car. He increased his speed, but skidded to a stop when he heard a familiar voice shout for him to stop.

Right in front of him, the mailbox was sheared off. He almost had run into the sharp spikes of wood.

And his older son was leaning on the hood of the battered car.

Chapter Fourteen

S
omeone must have called the police, or maybe a patrol had been driving by, because they were there before Levi could go next door and call 911. One police car soon became two and an ambulance, even though Timothy insisted he wasn't badly hurt.

Rebekah had joined Joshua when the first police car arrived. A short, stocky man who introduced himself as Steven McMurray, the chief of the Paradise Springs Police Department, insisted that Timothy be checked by the EMTs. The man and woman with the ambulance kept the younger
kinder
entertained while they examined Timothy.

Joshua wished the
kinder
had remained in the house, but the rain had eased so he allowed them to watch as Timothy's blood pressure was taken and a cut on his forehead cleaned and bandaged. He was glad when they took the extra gauze and tongue depressors back to the porch to play with them.

Chief McMurray finished talking with the other officers. Joshua heard them say it was
gut
that his son had been wearing a seat belt. Even though the airbag had gone off, Timothy could have been hurt far worse than a lacerated forehead and what would probably become a pair of black eyes.

The chief worked with easy efficiency as the storm ended, leaving hot and humid air in its wake. Joshua recalled how years ago Steven had been a troublemaker along with Johnny Beiler. Now Johnny had died, and Steven was in charge of the Paradise Springs police. The Lord truly did work in mysterious ways.

Another officer handed the chief a slip of paper and spoke quietly to him. Even though he strained his ears, Joshua couldn't hear what the officer was saying.

“Maybe you should go back to the house, Rebekah,” he murmured. “You are shivering.”

She shook her head. “No, I'm staying.”

He recognized her tone and the futility of arguing with it.

Chief McMurray walked over to them. His expression in the flashing lights from the vehicles was grim. “I wanted you to know that we ran the plates, and the car is registered to Brad Granger.” He glanced along the road to their neighbor's house, then frowned at Timothy who still sat on the back bumper of the ambulance. “How did you come to have it, son?”

Timothy held an ice pack to his forehead and shrugged. “It's my friend's car, and she wouldn't care if I used it.”

“Her father will care when he realizes the front end is smashed up. Taking someone else's car for a joyride with your friends is a felony.”

Beside him, Rebekah gasped, knowing as Joshua did that a felony could mean time in jail.

“Who was with you?” asked Chief McMurray.

“I told you before. I was driving by myself.”

The chief shook his head and frowned. “I know you teenagers think adults are stupid, but both airbags went off. The passenger side one doesn't go off unless someone is sitting there.”

“Maybe it was broken.”

“There's no maybe about it being a really bad idea to lie to the police. Someone most likely saw you and this car tonight. If you had someone with you, they probably saw that person, too.”

Timothy blanched even paler.

“It's better for you to be honest now than later.” Chief McMurray gave Timothy a chance to answer. When he didn't, the police chief looked at Joshua and Rebekah. “You also need to know that we found half a dozen empty beer cans in the car. We'd like to run a Breathalyzer on your son with your permission.”

Joshua nodded, unsure if he could speak. Why hadn't Timothy heeded his warnings about the dangers of drinking and driving a buggy? His son was smart, and he should have realized that those hazards were compounded if he was behind the wheel of a car.

Beside him, Rebekah gave a sob. He started to explain the test wouldn't hurt in any way. She turned away. That surprised him. She wasn't usually squeamish.

The police administered the test, and Timothy seemed to shrink before his eyes. The cocky teenager was becoming a frightened
kind
. Every inch of Joshua wanted to comfort him, but his son had demanded the rights of an adult and now he would have to face the consequences of making stupid choices. Even knowing that, Joshua had to swallow his cheer when the test came back negative.

But if his son hadn't drank the beers, who had?

As a tow truck backed up to take the damaged car away, Chief McMurray came to where Joshua and Rebekah stood beside his son. He handed Timothy a piece of paper.

“This is a ticket for driving without a license,” the police chief said. “Don't assume it's the only ticket you're going to get. Joshua, as your son is a minor, I'd like to leave him in your custody while we investigate what happened here.” He ran his hand backward through his thinning hair, making it stand on end, before he put his hat on again. “I don't like to see any kid sitting in a jail cell, but I won't hesitate to put him there if I find out he took the car without permission. Do you understand?”

“
Ja
, I understand.” He looked at his son, but Timothy wouldn't meet his eyes. “What happens now?”

“As he has been put in your custody, you or your wife must be with him every minute. Don't let him out of your sight. If he does something foolish like trying to sneak out, it won't look good for him when he goes before a judge. Judges, especially juvenile court judges, don't take kindly to such things. He's already in a ton of trouble. Making it worse would be foolish.”

“We'll do as you ask. Is there anything else we should do?”

The chief smiled swiftly. “Pray. I know you folks are good at that.”

Joshua nodded, but didn't say that he'd been praying since he'd looked out the window and seen the car lights shining at odd angles.

“Danki,”
Rebekah said softly. “Thank you, Chief McMurray.”

“You're welcome.” The police chief's gaze shifted to Timothy. “I hope you're being honest when you say you had permission to drive the car.” He looked back at Joshua. “We're going to be talking to the Grangers next. If they corroborate his story, I'd still like to send one of my officers over to speak with Timothy about the importance of taking driving lessons and getting his license if he intends to drive again.”

“And if the Grangers disagree with what Timothy says?” Rebekah clearly was too worried to wait for Joshua to ask the same question.

“You'll have to bring him to the police station where he'll be booked for stealing a car.” The chief looked from her to Joshua. “I hope we don't have to do that, but if he's lying...”

“We understand, Chief McMurray.” He motioned for Rebekah to return to the house.

He thanked the policemen and the tow truck driver before he led Timothy toward the house. His son was silent. Why wasn't he apologizing and asking to be forgiven? On every step, Joshua's frustration grew.

As soon as they were inside, he ordered the younger
kinder
to their rooms. They stared at him as if they feared he'd lost his mind, because he seldom raised his voice to them.

For some reason that infuriated him more. As Levi and Debbie hurried up the stairs and Sammy grasped a handful of his
mamm'
s nightgown, Joshua spun to face his oldest and demanded, “Have you lost your mind?”

“Daed—”

“No!” he snapped. “I'll talk and you'll listen. After all, you didn't want to talk to the police. You took your friend's car and smashed it into our mailbox. You were driving a car filled with empty beer cans. Where did those come from?” He didn't give his son a chance to answer. “You act as if everyone else is to blame except you. You spin tales nobody would swallow. On one hand you expect to be treated like an adult, but then you make decisions Sammy knows better than to make.”

“You don't understand,
Daed
!”

“Then help me understand. Why don't you start with why you had Alexis's car? If you don't want to start there, start with how the beer cans got into the car and who drank the beer. Don't think that I didn't understand what the police were saying. They didn't say you hadn't been drinking. Only that you hadn't drunk enough to be legally intoxicated.” When he saw the tears in his son's eyes and saw bruises already forming around the bandage on his forehead, he wanted to relent. He couldn't.

He reached out to grasp his son's shoulder, hoping a physical connection would help Timothy see that Joshua truly wanted to help him. His hand never reached Timothy.

“No!” Rebekah stepped between them, batting his hand away. “Calm down, Joshua, before you do something you'll regret.”

“I am not the one who needs to worry about that.” He scowled at his oldest and at Rebekah. Didn't she realize what an appalling situation his son was in? Timothy could be arrested.

He took her by the arm and drew her aside. She stared at him, hurt and betrayal in her eyes. When he reached toward her again, she skittered away, wrapping her arms around herself as she had when the Burkholder brothers threatened her. Did she think he was doing
that
? He wasn't angry as much as he was frustrated. With her, with his son, with himself for not being able to handle the rapidly deteriorating situation.

“Rebekah,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “The boy needs to realize the consequences of what he's done. Drinking and driving—”

“I didn't drink and drive!” Timothy shouted.

“Listen to him,” she urged.

Looking from one to the other, he said, “Be sensible, Rebekah. Even if he wasn't drinking, he was with kids his own age who were. Kids who think they can make the rules because they know more than anyone else. I know how it goes. They start drinking together occasionally, then more often. A couple of times a week become every day. By that time, they need more and more to get the buzz they're looking for. Who knows where it'll lead?”

“I know.” Her voice, though barely more than a whisper, cut through the room like the snap of a whip. More loudly, she ordered, “Don't lecture me about the dangers of alcohol, Joshua Stoltzfus! I know them too well.” She held up her right hand and tapped her smallest finger. “I know how it feels when my bones are broken in a drunken rage. I know too well how a fist can shake my teeth loose and how to look through one eye when the other has swollen shut. I know what it's like to pray every night that tonight is the night my husband doesn't turn to alcohol, that tonight isn't the night his fists will harm our unborn
kind
. I know what it's like to keep all of it a secret so the shame that is my life won't ruin my son's.”

“Lloyd?” he gasped. “Lloyd struck you?”

“Ja.”
Tears edged along her lashes, then rained down her cheeks as she said, “He loved drinking more than he loved me. I learned that when I found out he was selling our wedding gifts to pay for his beer.”

“And selling your cradle for it.” Joshua wished he could take back those words as soon as he said them because he saw devastating pain flash across her face.

Her voice broke as she whispered, “My cradle? He sold the cradle he promised me for our son in order to buy himself beer?” She pressed her hands over her mouth, but a sob slipped past her fingers. Closing her eyes, she wept.

No one spoke. Even Sammy was silent as he stared at her. How much of what she'd recounted had the little boy witnessed? How much did he remember? No wonder Sammy had shied away from him at first. If the one man he should have been able to trust—his own
daedi
—had treated his
mamm
so viciously, then how could the
kind
trust any man?

How could Rebekah trust any man, either?

He watched Timothy cross the room and embrace Rebekah. She hid her face against his shoulder as sobs swept through her. Over her head, his son's eyes shot daggers at him.

None of them could pierce Joshua's heart as deeply as his own self-recriminations. How could he have failed to see the truth? He'd seen her bruises, but accepted Lloyd's excuses that she was clumsy. She wasn't clumsy. Even pregnant, she was as graceful as the swans on the pond near the shop.

He thought of the many times she'd avoided his hand when it came close to her, though he never would have raised it toward her in anger. She'd begun to trust him enough not to flinch...until today. What had changed today? He needed to ask, but how could he when he had failed her completely?

Where did he start to ask for her forgiveness?

* * *

Why didn't Joshua say something? He stood there, staring at her as Rebekah thanked Timothy for the hug. The teenager murmured that he was sorry.

“For what?” she asked. “You didn't even know Lloyd.”

“I'm sorry for everything.” He shuffled his foot against the rag rug, then looked at his
daed
. “I really am.”

Joshua nodded and put his hand on Timothy's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, but his gaze met hers. “All I can say, Rebekah, is that I am sorry, too. I had no idea what was going on.”

“I know. Nobody did.”

“Why didn't you go to your bishop for help?”

She hung her head and sighed. “I tried. Once. But I didn't tell him the whole story because I knew Lloyd would be furious if he discovered what I'd done. The bishop told me to try to be a better wife. I tried, but I kept making mistakes. Lloyd would yell at me at first and then...” She glanced at Sammy. She'd already said too much in his hearing.

“You did nothing wrong. None of this was your fault.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. “I believed that. At the beginning. Then I began to wonder if I'd failed him in some way that caused Lloyd to drink.” Her shoulders shook so hard, she wobbled.

He rushed to her side. “Rebekah, you need to sit down.”