An Unbroken Heart (35 page)

Andrew held Joanna's hand as they walked toward the barn where her father had kept
his fishing poles, tackle, and creel. As far as fishing was concerned, it wasn't
a successful trip. Otherwise . . . He smiled. They'd tossed Joanna's fish back into
the creek and had spent the rest of the afternoon talking, the way they used to when
they were friends. But this time it was different. The conversation was deeper and
more connected. The chasm that had separated them for so long had disappeared. Joanna
was different. He was different. They'd both been changed by their pain, and somehow
God had turned it into something beautiful.

They had also decided to take things slow and to be open in their communication.
“You can hold
mei
hand every once in a while,” Joanna had said as they headed back
to the buggy at the end of the afternoon, putting their decision into practice.

“Don't worry. I plan to.” And he took her hand in his as soon as he could. She had
such a delicate hand, with long slender fingers, a contrast to his thick, rough hand.
Yet they fit together perfectly.

They entered the barn, and Andrew put up the poles and hung the creel on a peg on
the wall. He turned to her, not wanting to say good-bye but knowing he needed to
go home. “Is it all right if I stop by tomorrow?” he said as they walked out of the
barn, slowing his stride to accommodate her limp. “Maybe then we can talk about date
number two.”

She smiled. “
Ya
. I'd like that.” Then she halted in her tracks. A sheriff's vehicle
was pulling into her driveway. “Oh
nee
,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Andrew put his hand on the back of her waist. She was shaking. “I'm right here,”
he said as the car came to a stop. “I'm not going anywhere.”

The sheriff stepped out of the vehicle and walked toward Andrew and Joanna. “I'm
looking for Joanna Schrock.”

Andrew was going to respond, thinking Joanna was frozen with fear. But he didn't
have to.

“I'm Joanna.” She stepped toward the sheriff. “How can I help you?”

“I have some news about the person who hit your buggy. Is there a place we can talk
privately?”

“In the kitchen.”

Andrew was curious, but the sheriff had said he wanted to talk to Joanna privately.
He hung back, trying to decide what to do. Joanna nodded to him, gesturing for him
to follow. Relieved, he caught up with her.

Abigail was in the kitchen, and when she saw the sheriff, just like Joanna she froze
in place. “What's going on?” She put down the glass of water she was holding.

“They have news about the accident.” Joanna limped to Abigail. “I think Sadie and
Aden should hear this too.”

“I'll
geh
get them.” She hurried out the door.

Andrew stood by as Joanna explained to the sheriff that her sister and brother-in-law
were working in the store next door. “They'll be here soon. Can I get you anything
to drink?” Her voice was calm and steady. Andrew had to hold back a smile. He was
impressed with her poise.

The sheriff took off his hat and shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I
won't take up too much of your time.”

Joanna invited him to sit down. As Andrew sat down at the table with him, Abigail,
Sadie, and Aden rushed in. “Fortunately we weren't busy,” Abigail said. “I turned
the sign to ‘Closed.' ”

Soon they were all seated at the table—Aden and Andrew at opposite ends, the three
sisters seated across from the sheriff. The man clasped his hands on the table.

“This case has been open ever since the incident. We've been following whatever leads
we could. Initially we didn't have much, but we got a strong lead a few days ago
and tracked the suspect from Birch Creek to Chattanooga. We were about to put out
a BOLO—”

“Bolo?” Sadie asked.

“That's what we call it when we let other departments know to look out for someone.
We ended up not having to send it. The suspect called our office and said he wanted
to turn himself in.”

Andrew glanced at Joanna. Despite her earlier show of strength, she had turned pale.

“So he was in Birch Creek all along?” Aden asked.

“He's actually from Langdon. His name is Cameron Crawford.”

Andrew sucked in a breath.
Cameron? He glanced at Joanna. Her eyes were fixed on the sheriff. How was he going
to tell her that her parents' murderer had been in his house?

The sheriff scratched his cheek. “He's at the county jail now. We've booked him on
both involuntary manslaughter and criminal negligence charges.”

Sadie, Abigail, and Joanna exchanged a look. “What is involuntary manslaughter?”
Abigail asked.

“It's when a death occurs from recklessness or criminal negligence, ma'am. There
are three charges, one for each of your
parents. The third charge is for her.” He
looked at Joanna. “He's also being charged with a hit-and-run. What we need you to
do is talk to the prosecutor's office so they can bring charges against him on your
behalf. Now, there are two ways you can do this—we can take you in a squad car down
to the police station. The prosecutor can interview you there. Or he'll send an attorney
from his office here.”

Joanna gripped the edge of the table. “To talk to me?”

The sheriff looked impatient. “Yes. We need your statement so we can file formal
charges. Right now we can only charge him with the state minimum. If you press charges,
he'll get more prison time. You want to see justice done, right?”

Joanna didn't know what to think. She looked around the room, confused and shaken.
She had truly believed it didn't matter if they ever caught the person who caused
the accident. Now that the man had turned himself in, she didn't know what to think.
The sheriff was staring at her, impatience in his eyes. She couldn't think under
his scrutiny. She could barely process what he was saying.

“I think
mei
wife and her sisters need time to discuss it.” Aden's authoritative
voice cut through the tension.

“What's there to discuss?” The sheriff's voice was short. “Crawford confessed. As
soon as you're ready, I can take you to meet with a prosecutor.”

“What if we don't press charges?” Sadie asked.

The sheriff pushed away from the table. “He'll still serve time. The state will enter
their charges. But instead of twenty-five
years, he may get only eight.” His eyes
narrowed. “Eight years for the death of your parents. Do you think that's fair?”

Joanna sensed Andrew tensing beside her. She glanced at him. Something was wrong.
He wasn't looking at the sheriff or at her. He was staring at the table, his gaze
far away.

“I'll show you out.” Aden stood.

The sheriff took a card out of the pocket of his brown jacket. “When you're ready
to press charges, call me. I'll come pick you up. Or you can arrange your own transportation.
Don't let this man get less time than he deserves.”

Aden opened the door for the sheriff and followed him out, Homer at his heels. Joanna
looked at her sisters, then back at Andrew. She didn't know what to do. Her sisters
seemed confused too. Andrew still stared at the table.

Aden came back inside. “Andrew,” he said, motioning for him to join him.

Andrew nodded and stood, gave Joanna a bewildered look, then disappeared outside
with Aden.

Joanna looked at her sisters. “What are we going to do?”

Andrew tossed his hat on one of the patio chairs and ran his hand through his hair.
He had to tell Joanna that Cameron was at his house. He should have said something
to her while they were fishing, but he hadn't wanted anything to intrude on their
time together.

“You want to fill me in?” Aden asked, putting his hand on Andrew's shoulder.

“What?”

“You looked like you'd seen a ghost when the sheriff mentioned Crawford's name.”
Aden's eyes narrowed. “Do you know something?”

“Not really. I did meet him once.” He explained how Crawford's tire had blown and
Irene had helped him. Then he told Aden about Deputy Riley's visit.

“Why didn't you say something before?”

“Because we didn't know for sure that Cameron was involved in Joanna's accident.
We didn't want to worry her and her sisters if the sheriff's department was wrong.
I have to tell Joanna now. I don't want her to find out from someone else. I don't
want her to be upset with Irene, either.”

“She won't be. None of them will. Irene's got a
gut
heart. We all know that.” Aden
blew out a breath. “So Crawford has a
boppli
?”

“
Ya
, if he was telling the truth that he's the
daed
.” But Andrew somehow knew he
was. He had seen Crawford with his daughter. Unless he was a brilliant liar, he
wouldn't be able to fake that kind of bond with a baby that wasn't his own.

Aden tilted his head toward the house. “They're not going to press charges.”

“I know.”

“At first a part of me thought they should.” Aden's voice was tight. “But knowing
he has a
boppli
and is widowed . . .”

“I can understand why he ran.”

“You're defending him?”

“Aren't you?” At Aden's nod, Andrew said, “If I had to protect
mei kinn
, I'd do
anything I could, and I'd have to figure out a way to live with myself afterward.”

“I'm definitely not one to throw stones. I've made more than
mei
fair share of mistakes.”
Aden paused and looked at the back door. “I wish we could be in there with them.”

Andrew nodded. “Me too.” But he and Aden both knew only Sadie, Abigail, and Joanna
could make this decision. Whatever Joanna decided to do, he would be there to support
her.

“What are we going to do?” Abigail asked, her mouth tightening at the corners. She
ran her palm across the table. “Should we press charges?”

“He's already going to jail,” Sadie said. “I don't think we need to get involved.”
Then she turned to Joanna. “This affects you directly. What do you want to do?”

Joanna remembered when Abigail had asked her the same question, only it was about
her wedding to Andrew. At the time she had agreed to do what everyone else wanted,
even though she was full of doubts. She was full of doubts now—and fear, because
the niggling in her heart was sending her in a direction she didn't want to go. She
had ignored God's prompting, and she and Andrew had been hurt in the process. She
wasn't going to ignore him anymore. “I want to find out his side of the story.”

“Nee,”
Sadie said.

“Definitely not,” Abigail added. “Let the police handle this, Joanna.”

“But—”