A Simple Faith: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (14 page)

The sound of footsteps in the corridor made Elsie look up expectantly. With relief, she saw that it was Haley Donovan, her new Englisher friend.

“How’s everything going?” Haley asked, bringing a swirl of energy into the room. “How’s your father, Elsie?”

“Still unconscious. They’re giving him medicine to reduce the pressure in his brain,” Elsie reported, knowing Haley would understand.

Haley nodded. “Trying to avoid a craniectomy. And how’s James?” she asked Rachel, who gave her the latest update.

“I saw Kate Fisher in the hall, and she filled me in on Jacob. Sounds like he’s going to be fine.”

Elsie wished she could smile, but she could only manage a weary sigh. “Ya. That’s a good thing.”

“Excuse me.” Graciana stood up. “I’m just going to call my boss and leave a message at work, and I know they don’t want us to use cell phones here. If the doctor comes looking for me, would you tell him I’ll be right back? My daughter is Clara … Clara Estevez.”

“Sure.” Elsie nodded. “And we’ll save your spot, right here.”

The Englisher woman thanked her and headed out of the waiting room.

“I’m sorry I missed so much,” Haley went on, “but the police had a gazillion questions about the accident scene. It sounds like I’m the only witness outside the van who saw the whole incident.”

Elsie nodded. Although she appreciated Haley’s willingness to help the police, the Amish would have nothing to do with testifying or filing a lawsuit. “I saw everything,” Elsie said. “The lights of that dark SUV crossing the double lines … I will never forget it.”

“I know what you mean. It’s kind of burned in my memory.” Haley rubbed the plastic handles of the chair. “The police think the driver was texting; they found a cell phone in the car, and I guess they pulled up a message from the time of the crash.”

“What is this, texting?” Rachel asked.

Haley explained how a person could type in and read messages on a cell phone.

“And they type and read while they’re driving?” Rachel asked. “I would never think to read a book while driving a horse and buggy.”

“Exactly,” Haley said. “Well, at least I’m through with the interviewing for now.” She looked up as two Amish men entered the waiting room. “It’s our long-lost friends. What’s up, guys?”

Zed Miller and Ruben Zook stepped in.

“We heard there were free doughnuts,” Ruben said quietly. “So we came right away.”

Elsie almost smiled despite the turmoil roiling inside her. “Have a seat and a doughnut.”

Ruben held up his hands, both wrapped in white gauze and tape. “I’m not supposed to get crumbs on these.”

“You’ll have to use your fingertips,” Haley said, handing over the large box as the young men sat down across from Elsie.

“We heard that Jacob is doing good, thanks to you, Haley.” Zed gestured at Haley with a doughnut. “The doctor said that it was good we didn’t move him.”

“And I saw Market Joe and Lizzy leaving the ER when I got my hands bandaged,” Ruben said. “Joe told me everything is fine.”

“That’s good,” Haley said wistfully. “What happened to your hands, Ruben?”

He explained that he had cut them on glass when he first opened the van door, and so many small pieces had been embedded in his palms.

“And you didn’t say anything?” Haley shook her head. “Shame on me for not noticing.”

“You’re just one person with two eyes,” Ruben said.

“But you never said a word about it,” Elsie pointed out. She had never talked much with Ruben before, and somehow she had not expected to find humility. “And everything you did—running around and finding the SUV and flipping it over. You did it all with glass in your hands?”

“Very heroic,” Haley said.

Ruben shrugged. “Those things had to be done.”

“And I was pretty impressed by the way you moved the traffic along, Zed,” Haley said. “How did you know to set out flares?”

Zed frowned. “I spent eight years driving a truck.”

“But I thought the Amish weren’t allowed to drive.”

Elsie knew Zed’s long story. Everyone in Halfway knew about his long rumspringa and the job he’d gotten as a truck driver and the Jeep he’d left behind that had caused a bit of trouble for his parents. But she didn’t think it was her place to say.

“I left home during my rumspringa,” Zed said. “Do you know what that is?”

Haley nodded. “A time of freedom for Amish youth?”

“Something like that. I learned to drive an eighteen-wheeler. I took a class and everything, and for a long time driving was how I made a living.”

“But you’re back. Visiting Lancaster County, or are you back for good?”

Funny, how Zed didn’t meet a person’s eyes very often. Elsie wondered what heavy burden kept him looking down at the ground.

“Ya, I’m back.”

Just then Graciana returned, navigating around legs in the aisle.

“I saved your spot.” Elsie patted the seat. When the woman thanked her, Elsie introduced her, mentioning that the others had been in the van, and that Haley was a nurse who had fortunately been driving on the same highway.

“Actually, I’m just a nursing student,” Haley corrected. “I was driving home on Route 30 when … when everything happened. I had just finished up my clinical class here.”

“And you were the first car on the scene?” Graciana rubbed her arms. “That just gives me goose bumps. It was meant to be.”

“Seeing how you helped everyone after the accident last night, I think you’ll be a right good nurse,” Elsie said.

“Tell that to my clinical instructor. I’m not so good with the class work and reports.”

“But Gott blessed you in the things that really matter,” Rachel said.

Haley pressed a hand to her heart. “Thank you for saying that.” She turned to the older woman. “I don’t think we met. I’m Haley.”

“Graciana Estevez.”

“Graciana’s daughter was in an accident near Lancaster,” Elsie explained.

“That’s right. We live in Lancaster, and Clara was on her way to work,” Graciana said. “She’s been working at the Shopmart every afternoon and evening, trying to save money. Clara has always wanted to go to Disney World, and as a graduation present, I’m paying for our trip. She’s got to save up the money to pay for our admission to the parks.”

“I like Mickey Mouse,” Elsie said without thinking.

“How do you know Mickey Mouse?” Zed asked.

She shrugged. “I see him on signs and advertisements. His round black ears.”

“Not in
The Budget
,” Ruben said, mentioning the newspaper read by Amish people.

That actually brought a chuckle from the group. Even Elsie felt herself smiling. “Not in
The Budget
. But I like the way Mickey is always cheerful.”

“Even if he is a mouse,” Rachel said. “With Graybeard the cat, he wouldn’t last in our barn for ten minutes.”

“Sometimes I forget he’s a mouse,” Elsie said.

“Clara likes Pooh Bear,” Graciana said.

“Now there’s a bear with a bad name,” said Ruben. “I wouldn’t like to have a name that makes folks think of manure.”

Again, there was a murmur of laughter.

“But I can’t believe we’re laughing about this in such a terrible moment.”

“Laughter is a great de-stresser,” Haley said. “I know. Mickey told me.”

Maybe it was good to laugh in the face of fear. Elsie had to admit that her mind had been free of the memory of the crash, at least for a second or two. Maybe she would be rid of it eventually. Her dat always said nothing lasts forever, not even your troubles.

16

H
aley felt such a strong emotional connection to the group assembled in the waiting room, she couldn’t even think about heading home yet. She had called her parents to fill them in about the accident. After Haley had assured her mother that she was still in one piece, Wendy Donovan had started in on the worries of having a single daughter out on the road.

“This was exactly the sort of thing I was looking forward to being finished with,” Mom had told her. “If you were married and settled now, I wouldn’t have to worry about you coming across a terrible accident on the highway at night. You think you’re independent because you’re in your twenties, but, honey, your father and I still worry.”

“Ma, are you saying you would have stopped worrying if I’d married Graham? I still could have encountered the same accident. How would it be any different?”

“It just would be. You don’t understand and you probably won’t
until you have children of your own. Which may not be until the next millennium, at the rate you’re going.”

Mom didn’t get it, but that was nothing new. Still, Haley wished she could get her parents to understand a fraction of the last few hours of her life. The joy of helping someone. The incredible fulfillment that came with reaching a person who needed help, connecting with someone at one of the most vulnerable, desperate crossroads in his or her life.

An Elsie … a Rachel … a Graciana.

Right now Elsie Lapp was explaining why she and her father had traveled to Philadelphia for the afternoon. They had met with some vendors in Philadelphia who were interested in carrying the local products they sold. Things like honey, lavender, homemade soaps and jams and popcorn, and Amish crafts like cloth dolls, quilts, embroidery, and pincushions. Her loving description made Haley curious about the Country Store in Halfway. She’d never even noticed it.

“With a little love and care, our shop will be a true Country Store again,” Elsie said. “The way it was when Mamm used to run it.”

“Your shop sounds charming,” Graciana said. “Clara and I will have to stop in, after all this is over.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out to check the message.

“Your boss again?” Ruben asked. He was a quick study and a quick wit. Haley was grateful for his ability to lighten up a difficult situation, though she knew that under every comic’s veneer there was an acute awareness of pain.

“Yes. He wants to know if I’ll be at work in the morning. And I don’t know the answer to that.” She raked the silver streak of hair back with one hand. “I want to be here for Clara tomorrow, but if she’s going to be drugged up and sleeping all day, I hate to lose a whole sick day. Especially with our vacation coming up.”

“What kind of boss contacts you at ten o’clock at night?” Haley asked.

“A pesky mosquito who will not let you sleep,” Ruben added.

Graciana pointed to him. “That’s exactly the way Charles Showalter the third is. Have you met him?”

Dark blue uniforms passed by the waiting room—not a color that belonged here at the hospital. It was two police officers, the ones from the state highway patrol who had taken Haley’s statement for their accident report.

“Officer Wood,” Haley called after them.

The men stopped, nodding in recognition.

“Haley?” Larry Wood checked his watch. “You back at work already?”

“Just keeping these folks company,” she said. It sounded so silly when it was really so much more than that.

“Maybe you can help us. We’re looking for …” He looked down at his clipboard. “Graciana Estevez.”

“Oh.” Haley turned to find Graciana on her feet. “That’s me, Officer. Are you the ones who towed my daughter’s car away? I’ve been trying to get information on the extent of the damage.”

The cops exchanged an uncomfortable look. “Didn’t you talk to the sheriff?” Wood asked. When she shook her head, he went on. “Ma’am, I’m sorry if there’s been a miscommunication. Your daughter’s car was totaled. It crossed the median strip, hit a van full of people, and went down into a ravine on the side of the road. She might still be hidden there if it weren’t for the diligence of these folks here.”

“What? What do you mean?” Graciana blinked in confusion.

“Hold on,” Haley said. “You mean the driver we found in the ditch at the side of the road was her daughter? Clara Estevez?”

Regret shadowed Wood’s face. “That’s right.”

“No, no, no. That can’t be right.” Graciana tapped two fingers
against her lips. “Their van crashed on Route 30, near Halfway, and my daughter isn’t permitted to drive so far from home. It couldn’t have been her.”

“Ma’am, does your daughter drive a dark blue Ford Explorer?” the second cop asked.

“Yes, but—”