Love Still Stands (18 page)

He tucked the notebook in his back pocket and pulled out another book in which he
proceeded to scribble with big flourishes. No one spoke. Doctor Womack coughed, a
hacking cough that didn’t sound good.

“Here you go, sir.” He tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Elijah.

“What is this?” Elijah stared at the paper, his expression puzzled. He shook his head.
“You’re giving me a ticket.”

“It’s just a warning. Don’t worry. No fine or anything.”

“A warning for what?”

“For obstructing traffic and endangering an animal in the process.”

“I…” Elijah stopped. “Understood.”

Bethel opened her mouth. Silas shook his head again. She closed it. She tried to see
an inkling of Shawn in this man. Nothing. The sheriff had dark hair, weathered skin,
and, if she remembered correctly, brown eyes. Shawn must take after his mother in
everything, including his good nature.
Walk in his shoes. Jah, Gott, I’m trying
.

“Good talking to you all. You done here, doc?”

“Done.”

“I’m heading out. What about you?”

“Heading out.”

The two Englischers started toward their cars. “How ’bout them Chiefs, think they
got a chance at the Super Bowl this year?”

The vet laughed, a deep belly laugh that turned into a cough. “About as much chance
as I have.”

The sheriff laughed, a gruffer, less amused sound.

“Sheriff, wait.” Bethel swung after them on her crutches.

Elijah made a noise behind her. “Bethel, no.”

The sheriff swiveled to face her, his expression a cross between curiosity and annoyance.

“I met your son.”

Slowly, he removed his sunglasses and stared down at her. His eyes were indeed brown.
He looked much older than he had the day they’d arrived in New Hope. “Where?”

“At the rehab clinic for physical therapy.”

“Yep. That’s where he spends most of his time now.” He seemed to hesitate, his gaze
dancing over Bethel’s shoulder to the horizon, then back to her face. “He doing all
right?”

Besides being devastated over his parents’ divorce? “He seems all right.”

“For a twenty-two-year-old boy stuck in a chair for the rest of his life, you mean?”

He wasn’t a boy. He was a man who had fought for his country and nearly died for his
efforts. Bethel didn’t understand about wars and military things, but she understood
courage and bravery. She also understood how a young man might feel about his father
abandoning his family. “He seems like a nice person.”

“I never wanted him to go into the army.” Sheriff McCormack returned his sunglasses
to his nose, hiding his eyes, but his gruff tone couldn’t hide his anger. “I got calls
to make. You take care, ma’am. I’d hate to see you dumped on the side of the road.
You could end up like my boy. Stuck in a chair instead of running around on crutches.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You do that. Don’t be stupid.”

The unspoken words hung in the air.
Don’t be stupid like my boy
.

Bethel’s heart wrenched in her chest. Her daed might not shower his children openly
with affection. It wasn’t his way. But she never once doubted his love for her. A
sadness for Shawn enveloped her, but it didn’t end there. It engulfed the man who
stood before her doing his best to act as if he felt nothing. How he must hurt to
see his son trapped in that chair, unable to move. But standing tall didn’t always
involve standing on two feet. She knew that as well as anyone. “Goodbye, Sheriff.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he spun on his heels and marched away. He picked up speed,
his long stride eating up the ground between him and the car with its lights on top.

He looked for all the world like a man being chased.

Chapter 17

B
ethel leaned against the back of the wagon and tugged at the box. It held several
dozen cookies she and Leah had baked the previous day. Surprisingly heavy for cookies.
She inhaled the crisp, cool morning air. Autumn had arrived and it nipped at her cheeks.
She welcomed her favorite season, always so refreshing after the heat of summer. The
sun would pop up over that horizon any second and the pounding of the nails would
start. She inhaled the scent of fresh-cut lumber mixed with mowed grass and earth.
Earlier in the week, the men had set the foundation in this little nook and cranny
of land nestled near a stand of spruces not far from the road. What a perfect day
for building a school on that foundation. She batted away the thought that immediately
followed. She might not be the teacher when this school opened, but she could do her
part to give the scholars a simple place to come each day to learn. God had given
her this role to play on this day.

“I’ll get that for you.” Elijah had slipped up to the wagon without her noticing.
He raised his head and sniffed like a hound dog, a look of ecstasy on his face. “Snickerdoodles.
Fry pies. Gingersnaps. I see peanut butter cookies. They all smell good. I want to
carry that box.”

“You have a good nose.”

“Given its size, how could I not?”

His nose looked quite nice to her. Not that she would tell him that. Bethel backed
away and let him get at the wagon. She had learned to set aside her pride and not
to argue about these things. She couldn’t handle her crutches and carry a box. After
three weeks of physical therapy she thought she saw some improvement in her muscles.
On the other hand, it might be wishful thinking. She continued to do the exercises
before she went to bed each night as well. Her left leg lifted slightly on command,
but the right one refused to respond. Doctor Karen said it could be months before
that changed. But it would change. Of that, she was determined.

“You should be at your therapy today.” Elijah moved a box filled with loaves of freshly
made bread and tugged on a cooler that held ham and roast beef sandwiches, cold fried
chicken, pickles, and cheese in his direction. His bland expression belied the accusation
in the words. “How do you expect to make progress if you miss sessions?”

“Everyone is expected to help when we have a frolic. That includes you and me. How
could I go without someone to drive me?” She didn’t need him inside her head, reading
her thoughts. Even though his words echoed the very argument she’d had when she realized
the school build would conflict with her next session. It would be selfish to put
her progress ahead of this important work. “My progress is not as important as our
new community and building a school so our scholars can get back to learning.”

“They’re getting plenty of learning.” He set the box of cookies on top of the cooler
and tugged it to the edge of the wagon. “They’re learning how to create a new district.
They’re learning how to be a new community. They learned about ordination. They’re
learning from their parents. That’s just as important as book learning.”

Spoken like a man who’d had no interest in school. He’d been a fair scholar, if Bethel’s
memory served, but, like so many of her friends, had relished the day he’d been set
free from the schoolhouse. “Of course it is, but their book learning only lasts a
few short years. They have many years—their whole lives—to learn the things you speak
of.”

“Spoken like a true teacher.” He stopped, his face reddening from his jawline to his
hairline. His gaze dropped to the cooler. He’d only spoken the truth, but his consternation
at reminding her of her loss showed in his face. With ease he lifted the cooler and
the box and started toward the tables they’d arranged in long rows several yards from
the worksite. “The folks from Webster County are already arriving. With their help
this should go quickly.”

“It’ll be nice to meet our neighbors even if they are a good distance away.” Relieved
at the change of subject, she stuck the handle of a basket filled with napkins and
silverware over her shoulder and grabbed her crutches. He didn’t mean to be insensitive.
Everyone had avoided the subject of her replacement as teacher. No matter. She understood
Luke’s decision. “Luke says they’ve done real well up there.”

“Their Englisch neighbors have welcomed them…or at least left them in peace.”

He didn’t elaborate and it was better he didn’t. The encounter with the sheriff and
the vet had left them both uneasy. Elijah had spoken with Luke about it, but her brother-in-law
insisted they must settle in, work hard, and mind their own business. The folks in
New Hope would get used to their presence and leave them alone if they weren’t a burden
to the town. They had no need for an open-armed welcome. Only simple acceptance.

A burden. How could they be a burden? She shook her head.

“Talking to yourself?”

“What?”

“You shook your head.” He looked at her over the box that reached just below his chin.
“You look like you’re carrying on a conversation only you can hear. What are you thinking
about? Not about what I said, I hope. I didn’t mean to pour salt in an open wound.”

“You didn’t. Luke made the right decision. It’s not that.”

“What then? You look concerned.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth. She didn’t want to lie to Elijah, but she
didn’t see how she could share these thoughts with him. He had enough on his plate.
He and Silas had attended a horse auction the previous week, but the horses had sold
at prices beyond their means. In the meantime, Silas’s daughter Hannah had fallen
from the trampoline and broken her arm—again. Silas had dismantled the thing and vowed
to sell it at their next school fund-raiser. It had meant their first encounter with
the New Hope Medical Center emergency room and medical bills.

“Nothing important. Just thinking about what the winter will bring.”

“You talk to yourself, don’t you?”

“Do not.”

“I’ve seen you.” His voice took on a teasing quality that reminded her of their schoolyard
days. “Do you have imaginary friends too?”

“Don’t be silly.” She tried to sound disapproving, but the effort was spoiled by her
giggle. “They’re not imaginary just because
you
can’t see them.”

His smile broadened. That nice smile that brought out the dimple in his left cheek.
What would he look like with a beard? Contemplating his face, she forgot to watch
the ground in front of her, stumbled over something hard, and lost her grip on one
crutch.

“Whoa!” Elijah dropped the cooler and the box. The bags of cookies tumbled out in
all directions. He lunged forward with both hands outstretched, trampling them. “Bethel!”

Her feet skidded on the damp grass. Down she went, legs askew, skirt twisted, landing
with a painful thump. She closed her eyes, the heat coursing her neck and cheeks.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She would not cry. She would not cry.

“Are you all right?” She could feel Elijah’s breath on her cheek. He was close to
her, too close. She didn’t want to open her eyes. Not yet. Fingers closed around her
arm in a tight, warm grip. Elijah’s sure grip. “Did you hurt yourself? Can you get
up? Let me help you.”

“I can get myself up.” She jerked from his grasp and opened her eyes to see his concerned
face hovering inches over hers. He smelled like soap, clean and fresh. Fine lines
were starting to form at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Smile lines. “I don’t
need help.”

“I forgot.” The look of concern fled, replaced by a fierceness that startled her almost
as much as the fall. “You don’t need
my
help.”

“I didn’t say—”

“Is everything all right?”

Still sprawled on her back side, Bethel looked up into the dawning day’s light to
see a woman she’d never met standing over them. She wore a lavender dress and crisp
apron, but it was her face that drew Bethel’s stare. The woman had dark blue eyes
that seemed enormous against her white skin. She was petite and slender in a way that
made Bethel feel immediately enormous and clumsy. Of course, she had the advantage
of standing upright, while Bethel sprawled on the ground—a fact Bethel tried with
every ounce of her being not to resent.

“I fell.” Her face hot, hands cold with sweat, she saw no reason to elaborate.

“Are you hurt?” The woman shifted the casserole pan she carried to one arm. “Can I
help? My sister is good at doctoring. I can go get her.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“I’ve got her.” Elijah scrambled to his feet. Despite his words, he didn’t attempt
to help Bethel get up. His gaze remained on their visitor. “Are you from Webster County?”

“I’m Viola Byler and yes, I’m from out by Seymour.”

Bethel positioned her crutch to one side and attempted to pull herself up. Her efforts
proved fruitless, but neither Elijah nor Viola seemed to notice. They stared at each
other with unabashed interest.

“Elijah?” To Bethel’s mortification, her voice sounded weak. “Never mind.”

Determined, she rolled to one side, ignoring the grass stains and mud on her skirt.
Mustering all her strength, she planted herself on her knees, used a crutch as a wedge,
and swung herself upright until she stood.

“I’ll just…if you’ll just…”