The SILENCE of WINTER Read online

  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.

  CHAPTER 6

  The 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.

  Fritz followed Meredith wherever she went, and on several occasions he’d actually tried to jump up in her lap. Perhaps the dog sensed her need for consolation, or maybe he’d become so clingy because he needed comforting, too. Did the pup realize that his master was never coming back?

  Meredith had once read that animals could sense when their owners had died. Not long ago, she’d seen an article in the newspaper about a man’s dog and how it had stood vigil every day over the grave site after its owner had passed away. She wished she could explain things to Fritz so he’d understand what had happened to Luke, but maybe he already knew. If only dogs could converse with humans, it would make it so much easier to communicate.

  Meredith was thankful that everyone in their community had been supportive, bringing meals to
Luke’s parents and offering to run errands. They had taken Luke’s death very hard—especially Sadie. Her usual cheerful smile and bouncy step had been replaced with deeper lines etching her forehead, slumped shoulders, and hazel-colored eyes that no longer held their sparkle. Her small frame had seemed to shrink.

  The other day when they’d been talking about Luke, Sadie had tearfully told Meredith, “No parent ever expects to outlive their children. It’s just not right.”

  That’s true, Meredith acknowledged, swiping at another set of tears rolling down her cheeks. And no wife expects her husband to be killed a year and two months after they’re married.

  Many people—Amish and English—had come to Luke’s memorial service, offering their support but not really knowing what to do or say. Luke had become a friend to many in the community. He’d exuded confidence, and even to strangers, he had seemed comfortable talking about most any subject. He’d been open minded and straightforward, and it was those qualities that people had liked about him. He’d had an infectious personality and had made many friends over the years because of it. Folks just gravitated toward him, and from the look Meredith had seen on so many faces during the service today, it was evident that Luke’s death had hit the community quite hard.

  Alma Beechy had hugged Meredith as soon as she’d seen her this morning. With tears in her eyes, she’d said she would be praying for Meredith during this time of need, and that if Meredith ever needed to talk, she should feel free to drop by her house, day or night.

  Sheriff Tyler had come to the memorial service, too, dressed in his uniform. Meredith wondered if other places in Pennsylvania had law-enforcement officers as nice as theirs. Many times in the past when Luke and Sheriff Tyler had talked, it had been evident that the man took his job very seriously, wanting to assure a safe environment for the entire community. He was admired and respected by all the Amish who knew him. Over the years, Sheriff Tyler had developed a kinship with many people and usually took part in their community events. He was single, lived outside of Bird-in-Hand, and rarely turned down a good home-cooked meal when he was invited. Meredith remembered him saying once that even though there were plenty of good restaurants to eat at in the area, an invitation to one of the Amish homes was much better than sitting alone at a table in some crowded restaurant or having a microwave dinner in front of the TV at his home.

  Sadie had written a poem about being a mother, which she’d shared with Meredith this morning before the service. It had almost been Meredith’s undoing as she’d listened to Sadie read the poem in a quavering voice: “A mother wants her faith to give hope to her child; stability and trust in a world gone wild. A mother’s faith should be handed down; in the next generation it will be found. A mother’s faith must be steadfast and sure; so her children will desire to be like her.”

  Meredith smoothed the wrinkles in her black mourning dress. She hoped she could be the kind of mother to her child that Sadie had been to Luke. He had respected his parents and been a good son to them. Meredith had never heard him say an unkind word about either one of his folks. In fact, he’d often commented on their kindness and wisdom in raising their children. He’d also said that when he and Meredith had children of their own, he hoped he’d be half as good a father as his dad was to him and his brothers.

  Shifting her thoughts, Meredith was grateful that Luke’s uncle Amos and his family had been able to hire a driver and come for the service—although seeing him had been a painful reminder of why Luke was dead. If he hadn’t boarded that bus for Indiana, he would still be alive, and if Amos hadn’t offered to sell Luke his business, there wouldn’t have been a memorial service for him today.

  Amos, full of regret, had apologized to Meredith for having asked Luke to make the trip to Indiana. “I should have waited till spring when the weather was better,” Amos had said with a slow shake of his head. “Sure wish I could undo the past.”

  Shoulda, woulda, coulda, Meredith thought with remorse. From the very beginning, I had a bad feeling about Luke going to Indiana. If she could go back in time, she would tell him that she was almost sure he was going to be a father. Meredith wished she could take back all the arguments they’d had after he’d lost his job. She knew just how trivial they were now. Luke having no job at all would be better than the pain of what she was going through. Now there would be no homecoming—no surprising Luke with the news of their baby. Just like that, their dreams of raising a family and growing old together had been snatched away. Luke would never know he was going to be a father, and it was too late for regrets.

  Meredith hadn’t told her parents or Luke’s mom and dad about the baby yet. In her grief, she’d been waiting for the right time. Now that they were all together and needed something positive to look forward to, it was probably a good time to let them know.

  She turned from the window and swallowed hard, trying not to break down. She’d done enough crying to fill a bathtub these last few days—especially at night in the privacy of the room she’d been given at Elam and Sadie’s. “There’s something you all need to know,” she said, looking first at Mom and Dad and then at Sadie and Elam.

  “What is it?” Sadie asked. Her face looked drawn, and her eyes appeared sunken. It was obvious that she’d done a good deal of crying over Luke’s death, too, and like Meredith, she probably hadn’t slept much since they’d been given the tragic news.

  Meredith placed her hand against her stomach and forced a smile as tears slipped down her cheeks. “I’m expecting a boppli. He or she should be born sometime in July.”

  Mom clapped her hands, and Sadie gasped. The men just sat with big grins on their faces.

  “Praise be to the Lord; we certainly needed some good news,” Sadie said, her eyes glistening with tears. “Luke’s memory will live on, and we’ll have the joy of knowing and loving your baby.”

  Philadelphia

  Susan stared down at her patient, noting that there had been no change in his condition since he’d been brought to the critical care unit three days ago.

  Since he had no identification, he’d been listed as a John Doe, but Susan thought that was too impersonal, so she’d decided to call him “Eddie.”

  “How are you doing today, Eddie?” she asked, after checking his blood pressure and other vitals.

  No response. Not even an eye flutter. The poor man had been in a coma ever since he’d been admitted to the hospital, and Susan had not only been taking care of his physical needs, but she’d been praying for him often.

  She thought about the day he’d been brought to her floor. When the doctor had checked the man’s pupils, she’d noticed the pretty turquoise color of his eyes.

  The police had come to question the patient about who’d inflicted these terrible injuries on him, but they’d been told that he was still unconscious and might never wake up. In addition to the severe trauma to his head, the young man had a crushed vocal cord, bleeding from some of his internal organs, and several broken bones, including his ribs, sternum, and collarbone. They’d been giving him medication to help dissolve the blood clot on his brain, and the patient was scheduled for surgery tomorrow.

  Susan checked the man’s IV and said another prayer for him. Now that he was cleaned up, he didn’t look like a homeless person at all. He looked like an average young man with his head wrapped in a bandage, who needed someone to care about him.

  Who are you, Eddie? Susan wondered. Where’s your family? Is anyone even looking for you?

  Bird-in-Hand

  “Meredith … Where are you, Merrie?”

  “Luke, is that you?” Meredith could hear Luke’s voice just as plain as day, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. He appeared to be enveloped in some kind of a fog—yet he seemed so close to her. If she just kept going, maybe she could reach him. “Luke! Luke!” she shouted, moving forward through the haze. “Oh, please, Luke, come toward me. Let me see your handsome face.”

  “Meredith …”

  “Luke …”

>   “I love you, Merrie.”

  “I love you, too, Luke, and I always will.”

  “I can’t stay, Merrie. I have to go….”

  “No! Please stay with me, Luke. Don’t go away!”

  “Goodbye, Merrie. Goodbye …”

  And then there was silence.

  Drenched in sweat and clutching her bedclothes, Meredith bolted upright. Where was she? Where was Luke? Why wasn’t he here beside her?

  She glanced around the dark room, feeling disoriented and chilled to the bone. Slowly, she became fully awake and realized that she was in the guest room at Sadie and Elam’s house, where she’d spent the last few nights. Today had been Luke’s memorial service, and after she’d told Mom, Dad, Sadie, and Elam that she was pregnant, she’d come down with a pounding headache and gone to bed.

  “Oh, that dream seemed so real,” Meredith moaned. It was as if Luke was still alive. Is this how it’s always going to be? she wondered. Me, dreaming about Luke then waking up feeling the pain of losing him all over again?

  She closed her eyes, hanging on to the last time she’d seen Luke alive. It was just before he’d climbed into his driver’s car to take him to the bus station in Lancaster. She could still hear him yelling out to her as he turned and waved, “Don’t worry, Merrie. It will all work out!”

  Merrie. She’d always love the special nickname Luke had given her. It was short for Meredith, but he’d said he liked to call her that because she had such a joyful spirit.

  It’s not joyful now. Meredith placed one hand on her stomach and heaved a sigh. If it weren’t for this baby I’m carrying, I’d have no reason to live.

  Unable to endure the pain of her loss, Meredith buried her face in the pillow and sobbed.

  CHAPTER 7

  Are you ready to go home, boy?” Meredith asked, turning and reaching over the front seat of Elam’s buggy to pat the top of Fritz’s head.