Jenny's Choice (Apple Creek Dreams #3) (6 page)

J
ENNY WAS UP AT FIRST LIGHT,
making her morning coffee after another troubled night. She still hadn’t heard from Jonathan. Before he left he promised he would call the General Store and leave a message for her to let her know when he would be arriving home, but when Lem had checked there was no message.

Jenny sat at the kitchen table sipping her coffee and reading her Bible when she heard a car pull in the long driveway. She went to the living room to look out the window. Fear clutched at her when she saw the boxy white car with the red light on top and the state police lettering on the side. The car came to a stop in front of the house, and two uniformed troopers climbed out. Jenny watched as they came across the lawn and up on the porch. There was a knock on the door.

No! I’m not going to answer it! I’ll stay inside, and they’ll go away and everything will be fine. Jonathan’s just fine.

Even as the terrible thoughts crowded in on her, she walked to the door and opened it.

“Mrs. Hershberger?” one of the officers asked.

“Yes…”

“Are you the wife of Jonathan Hershberger?”

“Yes. What’s this about?”

“Was Mr. Hershberger recently in Sag Harbor, Long Island?”

“Yes, he was,” Jenny said. “Officer, please—”

“Wait just a minute, ma’am,” the other officer said. “We just have to confirm that we’re talking to the right person before we can give you any details.”

“What details? Has something happened?”

“We’re not sure, ma’am,” the first officer said. “It seems that Ronald and Francis Hershberger left Sag Harbor early Tuesday morning headed for North Carolina on their boat, the
Mistral
. They were supposed to check in with their housekeeper Tuesday night to let her know they had arrived, but they never called. The Coast Guard station in Beach Haven, New Jersey, picked up a distress call from the yacht
Mistral
out of Sag Harbor around three p.m. Tuesday afternoon. It seems there had been an engine explosion, but before
Mistral
could state her position, the radio went dead.”

The second officer continued. “The Coast Guard checked with the harbormaster in Sag Harbor. Jack Clarkson, the captain of the
Mistral
, filed a cruise plan, and their destination was Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. It seems the Hershbergers had a vacation place down there. The
Mistral
was a fast boat and could cruise at thirty-five knots, so the Coast Guard plotted a course and they have planes and boats out looking in the area where they should have been.”

“But what about Jonathan?” Jenny asked, twisting her hands in her apron.

“Ma’am, they wouldn’t have even known about him except that the Hershbergers’ housekeeper told the local police that the Hershbergers had taken their son, Jonathan, with them. She said it was a surprise for him that his parents planned. The housekeeper told the police Jonathan had come from Paradise, Pennsylvania, and he was a member of the
Amish church here. Local officers contacted us, and we’ve been looking for you since Wednesday. It wasn’t easy to find you without a phone.”

Jenny suddenly felt her knees almost give way. She grabbed the doorframe to hold herself up. The state trooper stepped forward and took her arm.

“Are you all right, ma’am?”

“I need to sit down,” Jenny said. “Please come in.”

They went into the front room, and Jenny sank down onto the couch. The two troopers looked at her with concern in their eyes.

“Have they found anything?” Jenny asked. “I mean, what’s happening with the search?”

“As of now, the Coast Guard has nothing to report,” the first officer said. “A storm moved through the area, and it was difficult for the rescue teams to even get out to where they presumed the
Mistral
was. As of last night they hadn’t found anything.”

Jenny sat on the couch, her mind reeling and her heart pounding. Her whole body felt numb, and the troopers seemed to be talking to her from a long way away.

I knew something would happen. You showed me. I should have screamed and begged and held onto him and never let him go.

“Ma’am, are you all right?”

Jenny looked up at them, and then she burst into tears. “I told him not to go. I begged him. I just knew…” Then sobs overcame her, and she could speak no more.

It was Sunday afternoon. Jenny sat at the kitchen table staring into space. She had sent Rachel outside to play earlier. As she buttoned her daughter’s coat, Rachel touched her mama’s face.

“I’ve been praying for Papa,” she said.

Jenny pulled her daughter into a long hug and then brushed an errant curl back from Rachel’s forehead.

“I know you have, my darling, and I have too,” Jenny said, “Now we must put Papa in the Lord’s hands.”

“Okay,” Rachel said, bounding out the door.

Now Jenny sat numbly in the kitchen, thinking.
I’ve been praying and praying. Will You answer me, Lord? Will You bring my husband back?

Just then Jenny heard footsteps coming across the front porch and Lem’s voice calling her.

“Jenny! Jenny!”

Jenny jumped up and ran to the front door, thrusting it open.

“Lem! What is it?”

“They found a raft, Jenny. There was one survivor from the
Mistral
.”

Jenny’s heart leaped into her throat. “Jonathan?”

“I don’t know, Jenny. All I got was a message from the state police saying that one survivor had been found on a raft.”

“How can we find out? Oh, Lem, I have to know!”

“I asked Karen Jamison—you know, the owner of the store—if she could have her son come out and take us into Lancaster. He was making deliveries for her, so he’ll be here in about an hour.”

“Oh, Lem, it has to be Jonathan, it just
has
to.” Jenny burst into sobs.

Two hours later, Jenny and Lem were in the office of Sergeant Mike Johnson of the state police. He was going over a file. Finally he looked up. Jenny felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

“What can you tell us, Sergeant?” Lem asked.

“All I have so far is that there is one survivor. He was found on an Avon raft, but he was far to the north of where the rescue teams were searching. It seems that one of the Coast Guard planes was called back to look for some other missing boats near the New Jersey shore, and the pilot flew north and west to get there. As he looked, he spotted the raft about a mile off the coast. They thought the raft was from another
boat, but the cutter that went out radioed in that the raft had
Mistral
stenciled on it and that there was one survivor aboard. That’s all we know.”

“Can we wait here until you hear more?” Jenny asked.

“Sure, Mrs. Hershberger. We have a break room just down the hall, and there’s a cafeteria if you’re hungry.”

Jenny and Lem left the sergeant’s office and walked down the hall. Lem had his arm around Jenny protectively, but they didn’t speak. The past several days had taken their toll, and Jenny was ready to collapse from the strain.

“Lem, if it’s not Jonathan…what will I do?”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time, Jenny. Let’s think the best and not the worst. I’m trusting
unser liebender Gott
to bring Jonathan home. So let’s just rest in Him and pray.”

Jenny and Lem sat in silence in the break room drinking coffee Lem had gotten from the cafeteria. Jenny alternated between great leaps of hope and horrible plunges into despair.

I’ve got to know, Lord. One way or the other, I’ve got to know. This waiting is killing me.

After what seemed an eternity, a girl came into the room, saw Jenny and Lem, and came over. “Mrs. Hershberger?”

“Yes…”

“Would you come with me, please? Sergeant Johnson has some news concerning your husband.”

Jenny looked at Lem. “Oh, Lem…”

“All right, Jenny, let’s go find out.”

They walked into Sergeant Johnson’s office. The trooper looked up at them.

“Please sit down, Mrs. Hershberger,” the sergeant said as he pointed to the chair opposite him.

“What is it, Sergeant?” Jenny asked as she sat down.

Sergeant Johnson looked down at a piece of paper in front of him and then back at Jenny.

“This just came in on our teletype,” he said.

He paused and then went on. “The man they found is a black man named Gerald Sanders. He was Mr. Ronald Hershberger’s caretaker and valet. He’s in a hospital in Atlantic City. From this report, Mr. Sanders is sure there were no other survivors.”

Jenny gasped and buried her face in her hands as the sobs came without restraint.

Three days later, Jenny sat in a hospital room in New Jersey with Gerald Sanders. He had a bandage around his head, and his right arm was in a sling. He turned his head and looked out the window when Jenny asked him about Jonathan.

“Like I said, Mrs. Hershberger, I’m certain no one else got off the boat. I was down in the galley cleaning up. The last time I saw Mr. Hershberger and his son, they were in the dining room. They had finished their breakfast and were talking. There was a storm coming up and it was getting pretty rough, so I cleaned all the plates off the table and took them below. I had just finished doing the dishes when there was a terrible thump and the boat skewed to the right. I went out on the aft deck to see what was happening, and then there was a big bang and the boat lurched over on its side. I tried to get up to see what was happening but something else blew and there was a big ball of fire that went right up through the dining room and the wheelhouse. The boat just came apart in the middle.”

Gerald took a deep breath and passed his hand over his eyes.

“Stuff was flying all over. A piece of the boat hit me on the side of my head, and then something smashed into my arm. I was still on the back half of the boat, and there was an Avon up on the wall, so I pulled
it off with my good arm and jerked the inflator. I pushed it over the side and climbed in just as the boat went down. There was stuff all over the place…and then the waves just swept me away. Right after I got into the raft, I passed out. When I woke up, it was dark and I was freezing cold and soaked. I tried to get the Avon cover on, but I couldn’t manage it, so I just rolled up in it and waited. They say I was out there four days, but I don’t really know.”

“And…my husband?”

“The last I knew, he was still in the dining room with his father. That fireball went right up through there. I’m sure they…I don’t think they could have made it, ma’am.”

Gerald paused and then looked back at Jenny.

“I’m awful sorry about Mr. Jonathan, ma’am. He was a nice young man.”

Jenny looked out the window, but she didn’t see the plum tree with its pink blossoms. She didn’t see the lawn or the street with cars going back and forth. All she saw was a long black tunnel with no light at the end, and she knew she was seeing her future—a future that she would walk without her beloved Jonathan.

C
HAPTER
S
IX

Dark Days