The SILENCE of WINTER (5 page)

“Oh, I hope nothing’s wrong with Meredith.” Luann clutched the folds in her dress, trying to remain patient until Philip pulled up to the hitching rail.

“Don’t worry, Luann,” Philip said calmly. “I’m sure the sheriff is just checking on our daughter, since he probably heard that Luke left for Indiana yesterday. News travels fast, and our sheriff, he’s a good one—always checkin’ on folks or just stopping by to say hello.”

“I pray you’re right.” Luann looked toward the house as apprehension filled her senses. She had a sinking feeling that Sheriff Tyler might be there for more than just a social call.

M
eredith’s heart felt like it had been torn asunder. She still couldn’t believe Luke was dead, but Sheriff Tyler wouldn’t have told her all of that if it wasn’t true. She sniffed deeply and dried her eyes on the tissue the sheriff had just handed her, feeling dazed.

Meredith shuddered as she tried to imagine how Luke must have felt during his last moments on earth. Had he been frightened? Had he thought of her?

She swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. To be burned to death in an explosion must have been horrifying. Had Luke suffered much, or had he and the others on the bus died quickly? It was unimaginable to think that Luke had been taken from her, and in such a terrible, tragic way.

“Would you like a glass of water or something else to drink?” Sheriff Tyler asked, touching Meredith’s shoulder and looking at her with concerned eyes.

“No, thanks. My throat feels so swollen, I—I don’t think I could drink anything right now.” And with the waves of nausea beating against Meredith’s stomach, she was sure she couldn’t keep anything down. Her whole body trembled, and her mind swirled with a multitude of disjointed thoughts.

“Meredith, I think we should go to your folks’ house now.”

Meredith remained glued to her seat as she looked past the sheriff to the corner of the room. There sat the bookcase Luke had surprised her with this past Christmas. He’d used his woodworking skills and made the beautiful oak bookcase with eight changeable shelves. Luke had mentioned to Meredith that he thought by the time they got old they’d have all the shelves full of books. Little did Meredith realize then that it would be the last Christmas she and Luke would spend together.

Her gaze went to the other side of the room, where the quilt rack Luke had given her as a wedding present sat. She’d been overwhelmed with the craftsmanship and love her husband had put into each piece of his work. It had brought tears to her eyes when he’d said that nothing was too good for his bride.

Meredith clutched the arms of the rocking chair so tightly that her fingers turned numb. There weren’t many places she could look in this house and not be reminded of Luke. She’d anticipated that when he learned of her pregnancy, he would start making baby furniture right away. But that wouldn’t happen now. Their firstborn would not be sleeping in a crib or rocked in a cradle that had been made by the hands of his or her daddy. Their child would never know the joy of being held in Daddy’s arms, and Luke would not have the privilege of rocking his son or daughter to sleep each night.

Just then, Fritz let out a loud bark and raced into the kitchen, bringing Meredith’s thoughts to a halt. A few minutes later, Mom and Dad entered the room. They’d obviously let themselves in through the back door.

“Meredith, are you all right?” Mom asked, moving quickly to stand beside the rocking chair.

“Your mamm was concerned when we saw the sheriff’s car outside,” Dad said, joining Mom by Meredith’s side.
“Was is letz do?”
he asked.

What is wrong here?
Meredith thought, unable to speak because of the lump in her throat.
Everything’s wrong! How do I break the news to them when I can’t comprehend it myself?

“Meredith, was is letz do?” Dad asked again, tipping his head.

“It … it’s Luke. He … he’s dead.” She choked on a sob then let go of the arms of the chair and clasped both hands tightly against her stomach.

Sheriff Tyler gave a slow nod and added, “I’m real sorry, Mr. and Mrs. King, but it’s true.”

“Wh—what happened?” Dad asked as Meredith rose from her seat and sought comfort in her mother’s outstretched arms.

Sheriff Tyler gently repeated everything he’d told Meredith about the bus accident and ended by saying that he needed to see Luke’s parents to tell them the sad news.

Meredith looked back at the sheriff. “No, please. I want to tell them,” she said, swallowing hard as she leaned heavily against Mom for support. Her legs felt like two sticks of rubber, and her head began to pound, while the nausea increased.

“Well, you can’t go alone; we’ll go with you,” Dad said, quickly embracing both Meredith and her mother.

Mom nodded tearfully and patted Meredith’s back. “Elam and Sadie will need our support, just as you will, Daughter.”

“That’s fine,” the sheriff agreed. “If you’d like to go there in your horse and buggy, I’ll follow in my car.”

“I appreciate that, but it might take us awhile,” Dad said. “We shouldn’t try to go very fast in this snow.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind going slow on a wintry night such as this,” the sheriff said. “I’d just feel better following your rig and knowing you got there safely.”

Fritz whined, drawing Meredith’s attention to the fact that he was sitting by the front door, as though anxious to go out. “What about the pup?” she asked, still feeling as if she were in a fog.

“I’ll put him in the dog run. Come on, boy.” Dad opened the door, and when he stepped onto the porch, Fritz ran out behind him, bounding into the snow-covered yard.

Meredith continued to stand there, unable to think of what to do next. She felt like she was in the middle of a dream—a nightmare, really—and couldn’t wake up. If only this were just a dream and she could wake from it and find everything as it had been before Luke left for Indiana. As she looked at her mother, Meredith could see the anguish hidden behind her pale blue eyes. This was not going to be easy on any of them.

As though sensing Meredith’s confusion, Mom went to the utility room and returned with a heavy woolen shawl and black outer bonnet. “It’s bitterly cold out tonight, so you’ll need to put these on,” she said, slipping the bonnet on Meredith’s head and then wrapping the shawl tightly around her shoulders. It felt like years ago, when Meredith had been a little girl. Mom’s motherly instinct still was to protect and comfort her.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but with God’s help and the support of your family, you’ll get through this,” Mom said, leading Meredith out, while the sheriff locked the door behind them. “We all will, Daughter.”

Meredith didn’t see how that was possible. With or without God’s help, she couldn’t imagine going through the rest of her life without Luke.

“So, what do you say, Mom, should we turn down the gaslights and head for bett?” Elam asked, setting his book down and looking at his wife as she smiled back at him.

Sadie set her mending aside and glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “Jah, it is getting late, so I suppose we ought to go to bed.” It was almost ten o’clock, and they were usually asleep by now, but for some reason, they’d stayed up longer tonight, enjoying the quiet and each other’s company.

“I’m not sure why,” Sadie said, “but I have some words swimming around in my head. Maybe I’ll try to make some sense of it all and write a little poem.”

“It’s been awhile since you wrote one,” Elam said, looking at her affectionately while patting her arm. “I’ve always enjoyed hearing you read me the verses you come up with. I think the way you put them together in rhymes is a real talent.”

Sadie smiled. It was nice to know her husband was so supportive and appreciated her desire to put her thoughts down on paper. “I guess I should keep a tablet and pen handy,” she said. “Then whenever the words hit me, I can write them down.”

Sadie had started writing poems when she was a teenager. It was just for fun, though, and only when the mood hit her. When she sat down and actually tried to write a poem, all the concentration in the world didn’t help the words to come. It seemed to happen naturally, when she least expected it. The journal Sadie kept, with all of her writings, was worn and old, but she’d hoped one day a grandchild might take a similar interest, and she could hand down her journal to him or her.

“Think I’ll take a pen and my journal to the bedroom with me and try to write a little poem before going to bed,” she said.

Elam grinned. “Sounds like a good idea. Then you can read it to me like you’ve always done.”

Just as Sadie and Elam rose from the sofa, a knock sounded on the front door.

“Now I wonder who that could be at this hour of the night,” Elam said, pulling on his full gray beard before opening the door.

Sadie was surprised when Sheriff Tyler entered the house and even more surprised to see Meredith and her parents step in behind him.

“What’s going on?” she asked, seeing the look of distress on all of their faces. Her hand went to her chest, and she had a sick feeling that something was horribly wrong.

“You’d better sit down,” Sheriff Tyler said. “I’m sorry to say, and this won’t be easy, but we’ve come here with some very bad news.”

Sadie’s knees went weak, but she couldn’t sit down. Her hands started to shake as Elam’s arm went around her waist for support. “Wh—what is it?” she asked. Noticing Meredith’s tear-stained face, she said in a near whisper, “Is … is it Luke?”

Meredith nodded and burst into tears as she threw her arms around Sadie and hugged her tightly. “The bus Luke was on was hit by a tanker full of gas, and …” Meredith’s voice faltered.

“The bus …” Sheriff Tyler slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there were no survivors when the bus exploded.”

“Oh, dear Lord, no,” Sadie moaned, holding tightly to Meredith. “Not our boy, Luke!
Ach
, this can’t be true!”

As Elam’s shoulders began to shake, he embraced both Meredith and Sadie. Sadie’s husband was usually a strong man and, with his deep faith in God, could take almost any news. But this was different. This was about their youngest son, and the loss was simply too much to bear.

The wrinkles on Elam’s forehead deepened as Sadie clung tightly to him, unable to endure the tragic news they’d just received.

T
he next three days went by in a blur, and Meredith didn’t know how she’d made it through any of them—especially today’s memorial service. Without Luke’s body to view, it was that much harder to accept her husband’s death. If only she could have looked at his face one last time and said goodbye. None of this made any sense, yet she had to force herself to acknowledge what had happened.

But would seeing his body really have helped?
Meredith asked herself as she stared out her in-laws’ kitchen window.
Would it have given me a sense of peace? No, probably not, but at least I’d have had some kind of closure.
She sniffed deeply, fighting for control as tears coursed down her cheeks.
I’m so lost without you, Luke. I don’t know how I can go on.

“Are you all right?” Meredith’s mother asked, slipping an arm around Meredith’s waist, while Dad, Sadie, and Elam remained at the table, murmuring words of consolation.

“I … I’m glad today is almost over,” Meredith said, avoiding the question. She couldn’t say she was all right, because it would be a lie. Truth was, she didn’t think she’d ever be all right again. And Meredith knew if she’d admitted just how she was feeling right now, Mom would probably insist that she come home with them tonight so she’d have her family around her. Meredith wasn’t up to that. She loved her two brothers and five sisters very much, but sometimes the younger ones were noisy and got on her nerves. She was sure that three-year-old Owen and six-year-old Katie wouldn’t understand much about what had happened to Luke. And perhaps even Arlene, who was eight, wouldn’t be able to grasp the agony Meredith felt. Only Laurie, Kendra, and Nina were old enough to really be supportive, but after a day of struggling to keep her emotions in check, Meredith needed some peace and quiet, and she really just wanted to be alone. Trying to be strong in front of everyone was taking its toll on her.

“Won’t you come join us for a cup of coffee or tea?” Mom asked, motioning to the table.

Meredith shook her head. “No, thanks; you go ahead.”

Without a word of argument, Mom gave Meredith a hug and returned to her seat at the table.

Meredith cringed as her stomach rolled. She may not have had any morning sickness before, but she’d been struggling with waves of nausea ever since she’d received the news of Luke’s death. She didn’t know whether it was because of her pregnancy or due to the intense grief she felt at the very core of her being.

Determined not to give in to the sick feeling, Meredith continued to stare out the window, focusing on the snow-covered yard, immersed in private thoughts. She’d been staying with Luke’s folks since the news of his death, knowing they needed her support as much as she needed theirs. Dad had brought Fritz over to be with her, but even though the pup was back where he’d lived when he’d first come to be with Luke, the poor animal seemed as confused and forlorn as Meredith felt.