The Christmas Cradle (22 page)

Josiah inhaled the brisk night air and sent up thanks to God that this day was ending so much better than it had begun. Lena's
dat
had never been a man inclined toward chitchat, but he seemed genuinely pleased to be here in Willow Ridge with his daughter, and sincerely interested in seeing the grills and hearing about the new restaurant venture and the farm.

“So you found a place near here?” he asked as they made their way around the edge of the crowd. “How're land prices compared to up our way?”

Josiah waved again at Officer McClatchey and Sheriff Banks, who were still caught up in the children's pageant. When he saw Bishop Tom standing near the two lawmen, he decided a detour was in order. “It would've been about an even trade, moneywise until you consider that we'll have a much smaller acreage than my
mammi
's now, but a much newer house,” he replied. “This is Bishop Tom Hostetler, who's to marry Lena and me—and his wife Nazareth, along with her sister Jerusalem and Bishop Vernon Gingerich. Tom, we've had quite a nice surprise!” he exclaimed. “Lena's parents have come, and this is her
dat
, Emory Esh.”

Tom's face lit up, and as the crowd began singing “Joy to the World” with loud exuberance, both bishops reached for Emory's hand. “Oh, but it's
gut
that you folks have made it down to see the kids!” Tom said beneath the singing. “They've come a long way in a short time, and we're mighty pleased that they're makin' Willow Ridge their new home.”

Emory smiled wryly. “
Jah
, I've noticed a few improvements,” he said as he glanced at Josiah. “And you know how it is when the women keep insisting it's time for a change of attitude—and time to meet the grandchild.”

Vernon's eyes twinkled as he laughed. “Were it not for Mary and the baby Jesus, where would any of us be?” he reminded them. “The hand that rocks the cradle has ruled the world for centuries, and I don't see that changing.”

“Have you heard any word about Miriam?” Josiah asked beneath the voices around them, raised in song.

Tom shook his head. “All we can believe is that she's gettin' the best of care, and that she's in God's hands. I figure to head to the hospital after the crowd's cleared out.”

Josiah nodded. “Give her and Ben our best. Emory and I are going over to take Christmas dinner out of the cookers now, so—”

A loud
kaboom
made everyone in the crowd suck in their breath and stop singing. Across the road, a huge fireball flared up behind the Sweet Seasons, so bright that Josiah couldn't look directly at it. Folks in the crowd cried out, and parents grabbed their children.

“What in the—
fire!
” Josiah cried out. “One of the grill's propane tanks must've exploded, or—”

He started to run toward the road, but Bishop Tom and Officer McClatchey both grabbed him. “You don't want to go anywhere near there, son,” the lawman insisted as he pulled out his cell phone. “If the gas appliances in the café's kitchen catch fire, you'll be blown to Kingdom Come. Yeah—” he said into his phone. “We've got an explosion and fire in Willow Ridge at the Sweet Seasons Café—natural gas and propane involved,” he added urgently. “Send the fire crew and an ambulance and some deputies for backup. Clyde Banks and I are already here.”

When Sheriff Banks saw how folks in the crowd were heading toward the cars parked along the side of the road, he hurried in their direction. “Stay right here, folks!” he hollered. “Take cover in the house and the barn!”

Bishop Tom jogged over to where the kids were huddling with Teacher Alberta and their parents. “Let's get in the house,” he insisted as he opened the back door. “Nice and calm now, so nobody gets hurt. Might be best if local folks go on upstairs to make room for everybody who's here.”

“Walk through the kitchen and into the front room,” Vernon reassured the frightened English guests. “We often seat a couple hundred folks here on Sunday, so there's plenty of space for everyone.”

Josiah stared in horrified fascination at the blaze but then steered Lena's
dat
ahead of him as folks filed inside. He found Lena and her
mamm
in the front room, huddled with Isaiah between them. Savilla stood nearby, staring out the picture window in disbelief.

“What
happened?
” Lena rasped. “We heard a
boom
and—my first thought was that you and Dat were over there and—oh, but I'm glad you're here with us, Josiah!”

As Lena grabbed him so tightly that he gasped, Josiah held her close and let her cry against his chest. People were crowding into the front room, murmuring fearfully, some of them going upstairs with their wide-eyed costumed children. As he watched the fire raging across the road, a horrible idea occurred to him: Had he and Emory gone right over to check his cookers instead of stopping to talk with Bishop Tom, they would have been blown to bits.

For a moment, Josiah couldn't think or breathe.

But what caused this? I checked the propane tanks and all the grills an hour before the pageant
, he fretted as several sirens blared in the distance.

Bishop Tom's voice rose above the others as he called in from the doorway. “The sheriff wants us to get away from the windows,” he explained. “We've got almost everybody inside now, so let's stay safe. A prayer for our lawmen and firefighters would be a
gut
idea, too.”

Seeing how crowded the front room and the kitchen were, Josiah motioned Savilla and Lena's family down the hall toward the
dawdi haus
. As they entered the rooms where his sister and Lena had once stayed, he heard the kitchen door close on the other side of the wall. Everyone was inside now.

The sirens blared and came to a stop in front of the Hooley house. When another explosion rattled the windows, everyone grimaced and got quiet.

“Sounds like Miriam's gas appliances just went up,” Josiah murmured. His throat was so tight and dry he could hardly speak as he slung his arms around Lena and his sister. “I can't think much will be left standing now.”

A few moments later, Bishop Tom, Nazareth, Jerusalem, and Bishop Vernon joined them in the
dawdi haus
sitting room. Tom removed his black hat, shaking his head sadly. “This is gonna be a hard piece of news to break to Miriam, when she's already had such a rough day.”

“Maybe it would be best to keep this under your hat until you see how she and Ben and the baby are doing,” Savilla suggested. “They'll have all kinds of questions about what triggered the explosions, and until we know—”

“Unfortunately, I have an idea who might be behind it,” Tom muttered. “And I hate jumpin' to that conclusion as much as I detest the devastation we've all witnessed on this holiest of nights. At least nobody at the live Nativity was hurt.”

“It's another blessing that the pageant was still in progress so people weren't on the road, getting into their vehicles,” Vernon murmured.

After they stood in silence for a few moments, Josiah let out a long sigh. “It's a pretty sure thing that Ben's smithy—and the apartment upstairs, where Rebecca lives—have been destroyed along with the café,” he murmured. “Not to mention the Schrocks' quilt shop and all their inventory, and the equipment and furniture in the Sweet Seasons.”

“And Christmas dinner,” Lena joined in sadly. She eased away from Josiah to take Isaiah from her
mamm
. The baby was getting fussy, as though he, too, sensed something too horrible for words had just happened.

In his mind's eye, Josiah once again saw the ball of flame billowing up from behind the café, and it didn't take much to imagine a bigger, hotter inferno engulfing the nearby buildings. The other folks in the
dawdi haus
settled into chairs or perched on the beds. Too nervous to sit, Josiah peered down the hallway. Some of the people in the front room were cross-legged on the floor, while others had scooted the chairs away from the glass to sit in them. A few whispered to each other, but most of the crowd waited in apprehensive silence—until someone upstairs cried out, “Who's that on the stretcher? They found somebody over there!”

Unable to endure another moment inside, Josiah slipped out the back door of the
dawdi haus
. He shook his head as he recalled that Lena had seen a face peering through the nearby window not long ago. Had a propane tank on one of his grills malfunctioned, or had Hiram Knepp tampered with it? Had Knepp somehow gotten over the enclosure's walls—or had he broken into the Sweet Seasons and accessed the cookers through the kitchen? When Josiah stepped around the end of the house, he saw two huge fire engines pumping white foam over the Sweet Seasons building, while safety-suited firefighters aimed other streams of foam at the area behind it.

Josiah nipped his lip. The paramedics loaded a stretcher into one of the ambulances, and then the vehicle took off down the county highway with its lights pulsing and its siren slicing through the night. About ten minutes later, the flames were extinguished. The entire area appeared to be coated with steaming white shaving cream.

Ben's smithy was an empty shell. The building that had housed the quilt shop and the café had burned to the ground. Only the forge and odd remnants of the stoves and fridges stuck up out of the foam-coated ashes.

In a matter of minutes, Ben and Miriam Hooley, Naomi Brenneman, and the three Schrock sisters had lost their places of business—and Josiah's future had gone up in smoke, as well. A sob tore at his throat as he wondered how he would support Lena, his sister, and his son, and how he'd make the monthly loan payment on the farm he'd just bought.

It was conceivable that the Eshes might take Lena and Isaiah back to Bloomfield once they found out that Josiah's own stubborn foolishness had been at the heart of this catastrophe. If only he hadn't agreed to cook for Hiram before he'd visited Higher Ground in person. If only he'd taken Ben's advice and come to terms with Knepp about staying in Willow Ridge.

With a heavy heart and slumped shoulders, Josiah turned away from the scene across the road. Bishop Tom's black and white cow, the sheep, and the miniature pony were watching him from between the rails of their pens. He noticed that the floodlight from the live Nativity was still pointed upward.

The star balloon drifted on its long ribbon, shimmering serenely in the night sky.

Josiah kicked the hay bale where Rachel had sat with Amelia an hour earlier. The whole Christmas story suddenly seemed as fake and meaningless as these props from the kids' pageant. What did it matter that God's Son had been born centuries ago? Evil and meanness still ran rampant in the world, and from what Josiah could tell, God wasn't doing a thing about it. If He rewarded the righteous and the pure, why had Miriam Hooley suffered such agony this morning? And why had she lost the restaurant she'd poured her heart and soul into? Why had Hiram Knepp been allowed to torment so many people who'd not gone along with his wishes?

Josiah shivered with cold, but he wasn't ready to go inside. He wasn't sure he could face Lena and her family—and when he glanced toward the devastation again, he saw Officer McClatchey and Sheriff Banks coming up the Hooleys' lane. Even in the darkness, their expressions were grim.

“Ben, congratulations! You've got a baby girl!”

Ben stopped staring into the worst cup of coffee he'd ever tried to drink. He'd been so absorbed in his worrisome thoughts about losing Miriam that he'd lost track of the time and the senseless blather playing on the TV. He raised his head and gazed blankly at the man who was approaching him in blue scrubs and odd plastic slippers that matched the puffy shower cap on his head.

Andy Leitner removed his hat, his smile fading. “Are you all right, Ben?” he murmured. “I thought you'd be a little more excited about the birth of your—”

“Is Miriam alive?” Ben rasped. “If she didn't make it through the delivery, I don't know how I can possibly go on—”

“Did you hear me?” Andy insisted in a low voice. He grasped Ben's shoulders and gazed directly into his eyes. “You have a perfect baby girl. Miriam's all sewn up and she'll be fine. After we got her stabilized, she gave the delivery everything she had, but we finally did a C-section. As the hours went by, her blood pressure and sugar weren't cooperating and she was losing her strength.” Andy smiled kindly. “I sent nurses out here a couple of times to keep you informed, but I guess you were so preoccupied you didn't grasp what they were saying.”

Light began to dawn in Ben's frightened mind. He exhaled, allowing himself to believe that his wife had survived—and that she'd borne him a daughter. “Don't mind me,” he said, shaking his head to clear it. “I was all alone out here, and I've never been in a hospital before, and—and I guess I lost my faith for a bit.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It's only eight o'clock? Seems like I've been goin' through my own little hell for a lot longer than that today.”

Andy's eyebrows rose. “You've never been in a hospital?”

“Nope. And I thank God I've had no reason to be.” Ben sucked in a long breath as happier thoughts began to dance in his mind. “It's a girl? And she's healthy?”

“She's a beauty,” Andy replied with a grin. “Ten pounds, three ounces. Strong set of lungs on her, too.”

Ben let out a nervous but ecstatic laugh. “Ten pounds? No wonder Miriam felt bigger than a barn this past month. I—can I see them?”

Andy clapped him on the shoulder and steered him down the hallway. “Now you're sounding like the Ben I know. The first words out of Miriam's mouth when she regained consciousness were ‘where's my Bennie-bug? ' She was threatening to get out of bed to find you herself, so I came to fetch you.”

Where's my Bennie-bug?
Ben's heart thrummed with exhilaration as he strode down the corridor. His Miriam was just fine. It was he who'd been too fearful to notice the pleasant colors of the hospital decor—or even the nice gal who'd brought him that awful cup of coffee.
I hope you'll forgive me, Lord, for forgetting that You've been in charge
, he prayed as Andy paused in front of a wooden door with a rectangular window in it.

Ben's breath caught. Even standing outside the room, he could see that Miriam looked peaceful and composed—enthralled with the bundle she held in the crook of her arm. He raked his fingers through his uncombed hair and fumbled with his half-tucked shirttail. Although she'd been through a major surgery and had given birth, his wife's dark hair was neatly tucked beneath a fresh white
kapp
, and she wore the new robe he'd gotten her a few months ago. Her color had returned, and she looked much better than when he'd gazed so helplessly at her during the ambulance ride in the wee hours.

“Congratulations again,” Andy murmured as he opened the door. “She's tired, so don't stay too long.”

Nodding, Ben stepped into the room. He could only gape, unsure of the proper thing to do or say—until Miriam's shining eyes set his heart to beating again. “Hey there, honey-girl,” he murmured as he approached her bedside. “Who's this you've got hold of?”

“She's the sweetest little miracle you've ever seen in your life, Bennie,” Miriam whispered. “This being Christmas Eve—and what with the names your aunts and uncles have—what would ya think of callin' her Bethlehem?”

Ben's mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. The blanketed bundle in Miriam's arms had opened her eyes and was wiggling her arms and legs as her mouth opened and closed. When Miriam offered the baby to him, Ben scooted an upholstered chair to the bedside and sat down so he wouldn't drop her. “How do I—what if I—”

“Support her head with your hand. Other than that, she's a sturdy little thing.”

Swallowing hard, Ben carefully did as Miriam had instructed—and then he rested against the back of the chair with a surprisingly solid, warm little body that fit perfectly against his chest. “Bethlehem,” he breathed.

He had no idea how long he gazed at the red, wrinkled face and the puckered forehead with such perfectly arched brows . . . the tiny bow-shaped lips and quivering little nostrils. Although he knew the world was still turning, and ordinary folks were performing their jobs as usual, Ben felt the universe hold its breath for a long, lovely moment—a moment that redefined life as he knew it. He'd spent his first thirty-five years wandering like a gypsy, until one look at Miriam Lantz on a stormy morning had grounded him. Now he sensed an entirely different path opening before him—an event every bit as momentous as Moses parting the Red Sea or the angel Gabriel telling Mary she would conceive God's own Son.

“Bethlehem. Bethlehem Hooley,” he whispered in awe. Then he glanced at his wife. “What's her middle name?”

Miriam giggled. “With a name like Bethlehem, ya think she needs a middle name to clarify who she is?” she teased. “After all, Jerusalem and Nazareth have no middle names, either.”

“
Jah
, you're right. I'm so jumbled up, it's a
gut
thing you've got all this figured out,” he replied with a chuckle. Then he gazed at his daughter again, so totally in love with her that he let himself drift in the perfection of this warm, cuddly moment. “It's been quite a day, little girl,” he murmured. “A Christmas Eve like no other.”

 

 

When Josiah came back into the
dawdi haus
, followed by Officer McClatchey and Sheriff Banks, Lena protectively held her little son closer. Although she'd met these lawmen before, she and her family—like most Plain folks—associated policemen with bad news and an unwelcome intrusion into their community. The grim expression on Josiah's face bespoke his own misgivings about the message they were about to share.

Bishop Tom rose from his chair. “What've ya found out? I hope nobody's been hurt,” he added in a concerned voice. “Back at this end of the house, we've not been able to see what's happenin', but somebody hollered about a stretcher bein' put into an ambulance.”

Sheriff Banks nodded. “The news isn't good—and I'm really sorry all this commotion interrupted your Nativity pageant,” he added. “The firefighters found a fellow several feet away from the buildings, badly burned and unconscious. It was Hiram Knepp.”

Lena and those around her sucked in their breath. Her heart pounded as she swayed from side to side, cradling Isaiah as though to protect him from the nastiness they were hearing about. “It's wrong to wish Hiram ill, even after all he's done,” she murmured, “but—well, is he going to live?”

Officer McClatchey smiled ruefully. “We don't know yet. We found one of those plastic wands you use to light grills nearby, but it's the arson squad's job to determine whether the explosion was caused by a malfunction of a propane tank or if Hiram was to blame.”

“We have our theory about that,” the portly sheriff added. “And I'm guessing you folks do, too.”

Bishop Vernon let out a long sigh. “No matter what our theories are, we must pray for Hiram's healing and his soul—for God's will to be done. And we must find it in our hearts to forgive whatever part he played in tonight's disaster.”

“I'm gonna let Annie Mae know about this before we tell the rest of these folks,” Tom said as he went toward the hallway door. “Hiram's four youngest kids were in the pageant, and Annie Mae and Adam will have a tough time explainin' to them about what's happened to their
dat
tonight.”

Josiah nodded solemnly. “
Jah.
Nellie's with them, too. I think they went upstairs.”

“Let's keep everyone here in the house while you talk to them,” Sheriff Banks suggested. “McClatchey and I will go back across the road to finish taping off the area so nobody disturbs any evidence before the arson squad investigates.”

“Are Miriam and Ben here?” the deputy asked. “I sure hate it that they lost both of their businesses—”

“And Rebecca lost her apartment,” Lena added in a small voice.

“They rushed Miriam to the hospital this morning. I'm hopin' the Hooleys have a fine, healthy baby to help offset what's happened in their absence,” Bishop Tom replied. “I'm goin' to the hospital as soon as we're finished here.”

Officer McClatchey clapped Tom on the shoulder. “I'm sorry you've got such a heavy message to bear to so many tonight, when just an hour ago we were all celebrating the good news of Jesus's birth, Bishop.”

“I appreciate your concern—and all of your help while we've been dealin' with Hiram these past months,” Tom replied with a sad smile.

“God be with you both,” Vernon added. “What a blessing that you were with us this evening. Men in your line of work see the dark side of human nature all too often.”

Lena watched the two officers and the bishops leave, sensing that the moment the
dawdi haus
door closed behind them, her parents would be spouting questions about Hiram and the trouble he'd caused. Before her
dat
could speak, however, Josiah came over to stand behind Lena, wrapping his arms around her and the baby.

“Emory and Dorcas, I want you to know that I nearly hired on with this Hiram fellow we're talking about—because I was foolish enough to believe his pie-in-the-sky promises about a supper club he was opening,” Josiah began solemnly. “I'm indebted to Miriam and Ben for warning me about him, and for taking us into their home—not to mention the thanks I owe God for waylaying us in Willow Ridge the night we were heading to Higher Ground,” he added. “I'm also grateful to Lena and Savilla for standing by me when I was too hardheaded to listen to the advice I was receiving.”

Lena's heart stood still. The expressions on her parents' faces were priceless: They had a hard time believing that the wild, reckless young man who'd split up their family was now acting so penitent—sincerely trying to prove himself worthy of their acceptance.

“Bishop Tom will be marrying us next week,” Josiah continued as he hugged Lena closer, “and I hope you'll join us for our big day. It would mean the world to both of us to have your blessing—and your forgiveness for the heartache we've caused you.”

Lena thought her mother might melt. Mamm's face softened as she swiped at her eyes. “Ohh,” she murmured as she came toward them with open arms. “This is such a fine turn of events, seeing the way you've both grown up since you came here. I'll be the happiest person at your wedding! Wouldn't miss it—would you, Emory?”

Her
dat
's reaction was predictably less emotional, yet his steady gaze made Lena's heart thrum. “It seems you two are finally on the right path,” he said. Then he cleared his throat. “I've got to wonder, though, what with the restaurant burning to the ground, how you expect to make a living—”

When a raised voice in the front room caught their attention, Savilla opened the door into the main part of the house.

“If I could have your attention, please.” Bishop Tom was speaking above the chatter. “I'll give ya the update on that ambulance ya saw, and then you folks who've joined us from other towns are free to go out to your vehicles.”

Lena and Savilla preceded Josiah into the hallway so they could hear what was being said. As her parents stood beside her, Lena sensed a new hopefulness in them, despite the unfortunate events that had disrupted life in Willow Ridge.

Bishops Tom and Vernon stood near the front window, clasping their hands in front of them as though they were preparing to preach on a Sunday morning. “Sheriff Banks and Officer McClatchey have informed me that the fella in the ambulance was Hiram Knepp, who used to be our bishop here in Willow Ridge,” Tom said in a solemn voice. “Whether or not ya know him, I'd ask ya to bow your head in silent prayer for his soul and his young family.”

“We've witnessed an unthinkable disaster this evening,” Vernon continued as he gazed around at the silent, stunned crowd. “As horrible as it appears to us now, we're grateful that the words written in the Gospel of John still hold true for us today. John tells us that the light of Christ came into the world and the darkness did not comprehend it—and in a more modern translation, the darkness did not
overcome
the light. Shall we pray on these things together?”

When the bishops bowed their heads, the entire crowd—English and Plain alike—joined them. As Lena closed her eyes, she was in awe that so many folks who didn't live there were willing to pray with them. It felt like a holy moment, standing in silence with more than a hundred other souls who were united in their petitions to God on behalf of the Knepps, and the rest of Willow Ridge as well.

Your will be done, Lord,
Lena prayed as she bounced Isaiah to keep him from fussing.
Please keep Annie Mae, Nellie, and the younger Knepp kids in Your care as they deal with another sad example of how their
dat
has strayed from the higher road. Bless Miriam and Ben, too, as they face such an unexpected disaster.