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Authors: WANDA E. BRUNSTETTER

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BOOK: The SILENCE of WINTER
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Fritz followed Meredith wherever she went, and on several occasions he’d actually tried to jump up in her lap. Perhaps the dog sensed her need for consolation, or maybe he’d become so clingy because he needed comforting, too. Did the pup realize that his master was never coming back?

Meredith had once read that animals could sense when their owners had died. Not long ago, she’d seen an article in the newspaper about a man’s dog and how it had stood vigil every day over the grave site after its owner had passed away. She wished she could explain things to Fritz so he’d understand what had happened to Luke, but maybe he already knew. If only dogs could converse with humans, it would make it so much easier to communicate.

Meredith was thankful that everyone in their community had been supportive, bringing meals to Luke’s parents and offering to run errands. They had taken Luke’s death very hard—especially Sadie. Her usual cheerful smile and bouncy step had been replaced with deeper lines etching her forehead, slumped shoulders, and hazel-colored eyes that no longer held their sparkle. Her small frame had seemed to shrink.

The other day when they’d been talking about Luke, Sadie had tearfully told Meredith, “No parent ever expects to outlive their children. It’s just not right.”

That’s true,
Meredith acknowledged, swiping at another set of tears rolling down her cheeks.
And no wife expects her husband to be killed a year and two months after they’re married.

Many people—Amish and English—had come to Luke’s memorial service, offering their support but not really knowing what to do or say. Luke had become a friend to many in the community. He’d exuded confidence, and even to strangers, he had seemed comfortable talking about most any subject. He’d been open minded and straightforward, and it was those qualities that people had liked about him. He’d had an infectious personality and had made many friends over the years because of it. Folks just gravitated toward him, and from the look Meredith had seen on so many faces during the service today, it was evident that Luke’s death had hit the community quite hard.

Alma Beechy had hugged Meredith as soon as she’d seen her this morning. With tears in her eyes, she’d said she would be praying for Meredith during this time of need, and that if Meredith ever needed to talk, she should feel free to drop by her house, day or night.

Sheriff Tyler had come to the memorial service, too, dressed in his uniform. Meredith wondered if other places in Pennsylvania had law-enforcement officers as nice as theirs. Many times in the past when Luke and Sheriff Tyler had talked, it had been evident that the man took his job very seriously, wanting to assure a safe environment for the entire community. He was admired and respected by all the Amish who knew him. Over the years, Sheriff Tyler had developed a kinship with many people and usually took part in their community events. He was single, lived outside of Bird-in-Hand, and rarely turned down a good home-cooked meal when he was invited. Meredith remembered him saying once that even though there were plenty of good restaurants to eat at in the area, an invitation to one of the Amish homes was much better than sitting alone at a table in some crowded restaurant or having a microwave dinner in front of the TV at his home.

Sadie had written a poem about being a mother, which she’d shared with Meredith this morning before the service. It had almost been Meredith’s undoing as she’d listened to Sadie read the poem in a quavering voice: “A mother wants her faith to give hope to her child; stability and trust in a world gone wild. A mother’s faith should be handed down; in the next generation it will be found. A mother’s faith must be steadfast and sure; so her children will desire to be like her.”

Meredith smoothed the wrinkles in her black mourning dress. She hoped she could be the kind of mother to her child that Sadie had been to Luke. He had respected his parents and been a good son to them. Meredith had never heard him say an unkind word about either one of his folks. In fact, he’d often commented on their kindness and wisdom in raising their children. He’d also said that when he and Meredith had children of their own, he hoped he’d be half as good a father as his dad was to him and his brothers.

Shifting her thoughts, Meredith was grateful that Luke’s uncle Amos and his family had been able to hire a driver and come for the service—although seeing him had been a painful reminder of why Luke was dead. If he hadn’t boarded that bus for Indiana, he would still be alive, and if Amos hadn’t offered to sell Luke his business, there wouldn’t have been a memorial service for him today.

Amos, full of regret, had apologized to Meredith for having asked Luke to make the trip to Indiana. “I should have waited till spring when the weather was better,” Amos had said with a slow shake of his head. “Sure wish I could undo the past.”

Shoulda, woulda, coulda,
Meredith thought with remorse.
From the very beginning, I had a bad feeling about Luke going to Indiana.
If she could go back in time, she would tell him that she was almost sure he was going to be a father. Meredith wished she could take back all the arguments they’d had after he’d lost his job. She knew just how trivial they were now. Luke having no job at all would be better than the pain of what she was going through. Now there would be no homecoming—no surprising Luke with the news of their baby. Just like that, their dreams of raising a family and growing old together had been snatched away. Luke would never know he was going to be a father, and it was too late for regrets.

Meredith hadn’t told her parents or Luke’s mom and dad about the baby yet. In her grief, she’d been waiting for the right time. Now that they were all together and needed something positive to look forward to, it was probably a good time to let them know.

She turned from the window and swallowed hard, trying not to break down. She’d done enough crying to fill a bathtub these last few days—especially at night in the privacy of the room she’d been given at Elam and Sadie’s. “There’s something you all need to know,” she said, looking first at Mom and Dad and then at Sadie and Elam.

“What is it?” Sadie asked. Her face looked drawn, and her eyes appeared sunken. It was obvious that she’d done a good deal of crying over Luke’s death, too, and like Meredith, she probably hadn’t slept much since they’d been given the tragic news.

Meredith placed her hand against her stomach and forced a smile as tears slipped down her cheeks. “I’m expecting a
boppli.
He or she should be born sometime in July.”

Mom clapped her hands, and Sadie gasped. The men just sat with big grins on their faces.

“Praise be to the Lord; we certainly needed some good news,” Sadie said, her eyes glistening with tears. “Luke’s memory will live on, and we’ll have the joy of knowing and loving your baby.”

Philadelphia

Susan stared down at her patient, noting that there had been no change in his condition since he’d been brought to the critical care unit three days ago.

Since he had no identification, he’d been listed as a John Doe, but Susan thought that was too impersonal, so she’d decided to call him “Eddie.”

“How are you doing today, Eddie?” she asked, after checking his blood pressure and other vitals.

No response. Not even an eye flutter. The poor man had been in a coma ever since he’d been admitted to the hospital, and Susan had not only been taking care of his physical needs, but she’d been praying for him often.

She thought about the day he’d been brought to her floor. When the doctor had checked the man’s pupils, she’d noticed the pretty turquoise color of his eyes.

The police had come to question the patient about who’d inflicted these terrible injuries on him, but they’d been told that he was still unconscious and might never wake up. In addition to the severe trauma to his head, the young man had a crushed vocal cord, bleeding from some of his internal organs, and several broken bones, including his ribs, sternum, and collarbone. They’d been giving him medication to help dissolve the blood clot on his brain, and the patient was scheduled for surgery tomorrow.

Susan checked the man’s IV and said another prayer for him. Now that he was cleaned up, he didn’t look like a homeless person at all. He looked like an average young man with his head wrapped in a bandage, who needed someone to care about him.

Who are you, Eddie?
Susan wondered.
Where’s your family? Is anyone even looking for you?

Bird-in-Hand

“Meredith … Where are you, Merrie?”

“Luke, is that you?” Meredith could hear Luke’s voice just as plain as day, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. He appeared to be enveloped in some kind of a fog—yet he seemed so close to her. If she just kept going, maybe she could reach him. “Luke! Luke!” she shouted, moving forward through the haze. “Oh, please, Luke, come toward me. Let me see your handsome face.”

“Meredith …”

“Luke …”

“I love you, Merrie.”

“I love you, too, Luke, and I always will.”

“I can’t stay, Merrie. I have to go….”

“No! Please stay with me, Luke. Don’t go away!”

“Goodbye, Merrie. Goodbye …”

And then there was silence.

Drenched in sweat and clutching her bedclothes, Meredith bolted upright. Where was she? Where was Luke? Why wasn’t he here beside her?

She glanced around the dark room, feeling disoriented and chilled to the bone. Slowly, she became fully awake and realized that she was in the guest room at Sadie and Elam’s house, where she’d spent the last few nights. Today had been Luke’s memorial service, and after she’d told Mom, Dad, Sadie, and Elam that she was pregnant, she’d come down with a pounding headache and gone to bed.

“Oh, that dream seemed so real,” Meredith moaned. It was as if Luke was still alive.
Is this how it’s always going to be?
she wondered.
Me, dreaming about Luke then waking up feeling the pain of losing him all over again?

She closed her eyes, hanging on to the last time she’d seen Luke alive. It was just before he’d climbed into his driver’s car to take him to the bus station in Lancaster. She could still hear him yelling out to her as he turned and waved, “Don’t worry, Merrie. It will all work out!”

Merrie.
She’d always love the special nickname Luke had given her. It was short for Meredith, but he’d said he liked to call her that because she had such a joyful spirit.

It’s not joyful now.
Meredith placed one hand on her stomach and heaved a sigh.
If it weren’t for this baby I’m carrying, I’d have no reason to live.

Unable to endure the pain of her loss, Meredith buried her face in the pillow and sobbed.

CHAPTER 7

A
re you ready to go home, boy?” Meredith asked, turning and reaching over the front seat of Elam’s buggy to pat the top of Fritz’s head.

The dog whined and nuzzled her hand with his cold nose.

After spending nearly six weeks with Luke’s folks, Meredith had decided it was time to go home and try to somehow get on with her life, however difficult it would be. It wasn’t fair to expect Dad and her twelve-year-old brother, Stanley, to keep going over to her place every day to check on things, care for the horses, and do any other chores that might need to be done. While still in mourning over Luke’s death, his mother seemed to be doing a little better now that she knew Meredith was expecting a baby, and at least she had something to look forward to, as did Meredith. So this morning during breakfast, Meredith had told Luke’s parents that she would be going home, and Elam had agreed to take her. Sadie had argued at first, saying it was too soon, but Meredith assured her she would be okay on her own and would let them know if she needed anything.

I need to get back into a routine,
she thought, turning to stare out the front of Elam’s buggy.
There’s so much to do before the baby comes, and maybe keeping busy will help me not think so much about losing Luke.

Meredith wasn’t sure how she was going to support herself. Half the money they’d had in the bank had been lost with Luke, and she’d have to be careful how she spent what was left. What she needed was a job—something she could do from her home. But what could it be?

BOOK: The SILENCE of WINTER
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