Taken for English (27 page)

Unarmed, Joseph Beiler was among the twenty men who thundered with Sheriff Abraham Byler into the ranch yard of Old Man Twigg. Lurking at the back edge of the posse, Joseph coughed and then covered his face with the back of his hand against the rising swirl of dirt. Around the edges of the clearing were the main house, a smokehouse, stables, and a couple of other small outbuildings.

Sheriff Byler lifted one hand as the horses responded to reins and came to a stop, their front legs thudding to the ground in final steps. He slid off his mount and scanned the posse from left to right.

“You men stay in your saddles and put those rifles away,” the sheriff said, warning in his tone. “You are here in the event of a sour turn that I sincerely hope to avoid.”

Shifting postures of most of the men told Joseph not everyone agreed with the sheriff’s judgment, but they would comply with his instructions.

Sheriff Byler crossed the yard and approached the house, hollering in a friendly tone. “Hallo! Hallo! Anybody home?” He did not even brandish a weapon as he turned his head first toward one building and then another. Silence made him slow his steps, peering carefully. He reached the front porch of the house, put his hand on a supporting post, and looked around again. “Hallo?”

Joseph slowly moved around one side of the posse, anxious for the sheriff. He saw the rifle’s end poking out through the fissure in the log smokehouse too late. The crack of the weapon swallowed up his cry of caution. Sheriff Byler lurched.

Men in the front of the posse immediately urged their horses forward into the yard and drew their weapons.

“Get the sheriff out of there!” Thomas Combs ordered.

Sheriff Byler stumbled only a few yards from the house when the rifle cracked again. This time the sheriff dropped and did not move.

Joseph responded with the rest of the men, moving into formation that would enclose the yard. Weaponless, Joseph took his horse toward the smokehouse. Two riders slung their legs out of their saddles and crouched over Byler.

“Shot twice!” one of them called out.

Jesse Roper burst from the smokehouse, dropped to his knees, and fired into the posse, first to the right, then to the left. Joseph yanked on his reins to pull his horse to the side, but the fearful animal went up on hind legs. Joseph could see a few men fumbling with their weapons, but the reflexive movement of most of the horses prevented straight shots. Bullets flew across the yard without purpose. When a cartridge lodged in the barrel of his Winchester, Roper worked the lever back and forth with cool aplomb until he cleared it.

Loge Hoppe yelped when a bullet hit his leg. Struck in the chest, Dr. Lindsay’s horse crumpled beneath him. The posse fell back, out of range. With the formation broken, Roper grasped his rifle in one thick hand and loped across the yard. He climbed a split-rail fence, turned to remove his imposing black hat, grinned, and waved a final farewell as he jumped down on the other side and pumped his long legs.

Some of the posse men pressed their knees into their horses and urged them into chase.

“Let him go!” Jimmy Twigg emerged from the smokehouse, his face an angry red and his rifle seated against his shoulder. “I will blow the head off of anyone who chases him. You know I mean it.”

The posse riders drew their horses to a halt. Roper disappeared into the thick woods of the Twigg property.

Joseph was afraid he would be sick. Was this
English
justice? Off his horse now, he tied the animal to a tree and turned to the throb of attention around Sheriff Byler.

Old Man Twigg’s wife ran from her house to kneel over the dying sheriff. “You poor man. You poor old man.”

Dr. Lindsay limped from his wounded horse to do what he could for the sheriff.

The clatter of a cart made Joseph look up. Joseph ran and grabbed the bridle of Maura Woodley’s horse, dragging against the animal’s movement.

“Miss Woodley—” He did not know what to say next.

“The sheriff?” Maura said as she climbed out of her cart.

He nodded. Maura ran to the huddle and pushed aside Mrs. Twigg and several men. Joseph had seen enough of Maura Woodley before this to know she would have her way even in this situation. She took Sheriff Byler’s head into her own skirt, trying to stanch the blood from his chest alongside Dr. Lindsay.

“Joseph!” she called out.

He was at her side immediately, looking into her wrenched face.

“He will not survive,” she muttered. She held out her hand to him. “This should not be. This should not be.”

He gripped her hand.

E
lijah was strapped into the gurney. Ruth was glad that if he had an inclination to move, he would not be able to. The fact that he remained as still as he had for as long as he had was telling enough. She reached from her own seat to hold his hand. They had been circumspect around other people when they were younger. When they were alone, though, two teenagers in love held hands and stole kisses.

He was the first to confess love.

She was the first to confess doubt.

Not about whether she loved Elijah Capp. In fact, she knew she loved him months before he ever spoke the word to her. But by then, two years after finishing the eighth grade and facing the church’s regulation against further schooling, she doubted that her spiritual calling was to become an adult baptized member of the Amish congregation.

She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, a gesture that gave her some reassurance of his condition. If he were not wearing the sturdy work boot of an Amish tradesman, she might have been tempted to pinch his big toe to see if he would react. Instead, she swallowed her worst-case-scenario imaginings and smiled at him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Elijah’s wide eyes fixed on her face.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

A wispy recollection that she was supposed to work at the clinic that afternoon wafted through her mind. She would need to call or text someone as soon as the ambulance arrived in Cañon City, but for now she did not intend to let go of Elijah’s hand.

“The orthopedist should be waiting for you as soon as we get there,” she said.

“I’m sure he has actual injured people he ought to be looking after.”

“And where did you get your medical degree, Dr. Capp?”

“You forget that my grandmother was a midwife.”

“That should come in handy when you’re ready to deliver a baby.”

“I want to be there when you have our baby,” he said.

The EMT sitting on the other side of Elijah perked up.

“Shh,” Ruth said. “What kind of talk is that for an ambulance?”

“I have to take advantage of every opportunity to tell you how I feel.” Elijah ignored the EMT. “I never know when I’ll get another chance.”

“I know how you feel, Elijah,” Ruth whispered and avoided the EMT’s eyes.

“It’s going to work out for us.”

His eyes shimmered till she almost could not look at them anymore. Neither could she shift her gaze. She swallowed. “You must be starting to feel sore.”

“I only care what I feel for you.”

The EMT shuffled his feet. “We’ll be there soon,” he said.

Ruth could not see Bryan from the back of the ambulance. When she looked toward the front, she saw only a wall of medications and equipment. Bryan would be concentrating on doing his job. She already knew him well enough to recognize and admire his ability to ignore distraction. Still, when the urgency wore off, what would he think about what he had witnessed between her and Elijah—or the account his partner would no doubt give him of the conversation occurring in the back while Bryan focused on safe transport?

Ruth waited alone in a small curtained area. The space seemed much larger with Elijah’s patient bed missing. She had helped the triage nurse with his basic information, also providing what little she knew about the accident itself. Explaining that the Amish church, rather than insurance or a government program, would cover his medical expenses was more challenging. The
English
forms never seemed to have the right spaces for these answers.

The wait for the doctor was reasonably short, though he did what Ruth had expected him to do after conducting a basic neurological check that revealed Elijah could wiggle his fingers and toes and tell the difference between a pinch and a poke. In a clipped cadence, the doctor ticked off a list of tests for the nurse to arrange. Ruth recognized the abbreviations and knew the instructions were aimed at ruling out spinal damage before Elijah would be allowed to move more freely. While they waited for an orderly to arrive and wheel him off, Elijah had at last dozed. He roused long enough to smile at her before his gurney turned the corner and took him out of sight.

Now Ruth sat and watched the hands of the clock in the hallway of the emergency room tick. Elijah had been gone almost ninety minutes already. She would not have him come back and find the exam area empty, though, so the most she did was pace the small room a few minutes at a time. If she had to wait halfway through the night, she would.

When the curtain finally swished another thirty minutes later, it was a nurse.

“Ah. I wondered if you were still here.”

“Yes. I’m waiting for my friend to come back from tests. Do you know how much longer it will be?”

“I’ll try to see if I can find out where he is in the process.” The nurse dragged a second chair in from the hall. “Some people are here claiming to be his parents. Judging from the way they are dressed, I believe them. They said you are not family.”

“Well, no, technically not. But Elijah and I are close.”

The nurse waved a hand. “You all can sort that out among yourselves. But it’s against hospital policy to have three nonpatients in an ER exam area. Maybe you could use a break.”

“I want to know what happens.”

“I think that will be up to his parents now to decide what they want to tell you.” The nurse stepped into the hall and beckoned with one hand. “You can wait out in the main waiting area if you like. No one is going to kick you out of there.”

Reluctant, Ruth stood up. Already she recognized the approaching dull, heavy step of Amish boots and swish of skirts. Elijah’s
daed
wore his usual somber expression with an extra furrow in his brow, and his
mamm’s
cheeks lacked their usual blush. Ruth did her best to greet them with encouragement.

“He’s just away while they do some tests,” she said, reaching for Mrs. Capp’s hand. “I’m sorry they won’t let me stay with you while you wait for him.”

“We don’t need you to stay with us.” Mrs. Capp withdrew her hand.

“I don’t think it should be too much longer.”

“Thank you, Ruth, but you can go now.”

“I’ll just be out in the main waiting room.”

“It’s not necessary for you to wait. I’m sure you have other things to do.”

“Of course I’ll wait.” Elijah’s mother had never spoken to her before with such a clipped tone. “If he asks for me, will someone come and get me?”

“I think it’s best if you go back to Westcliffe,” Mr. Capp said. “If you want to help, you can ask the church to pray for Elijah.”

Ruth looked back and forth between Elijah’s parents. Close to three years had passed since she ran out on her baptism and left Elijah behind to make his vows alone. While the Capps had been confused at her choice, they never expressed anger toward her. What mattered to them was that Elijah had joined the church. Only two weeks ago, Mrs. Capp had urged Ruth to come to dinner. She understood they were concerned about their son’s condition now, but that worry was underlaid with anger. They stepped into the exam area, their back to her, and pulled the curtain.

“You’ll have to go to the waiting room,” the nurse repeated. “His family is here now.”

The words stung.

When she pushed through the door to the waiting room, Tom Reynolds stood up.

“Hello, Ruth.”

“Tom, I’m glad you’re here. Did you taxi the Capps?”

“Yes. I said I would wait at least until they know whether Elijah has to stay.”

“I guess that depends on the test results.”