A Heart Made New (9 page)

“And some continue to work in town,” Thomas added. “Those jobs in town supplementing our income are important.”

Easy for Thomas to say. He had his own farm. A good-sized one
at that. If Luke split the Shirack farm with Josiah and Mark, they would be down to thirty-five acres each. Josiah wanted to raise cattle. He wanted to raise crops too. He wanted to farm. But a person didn’t always get what he wanted. If anyone knew that, he did.
Keep your mouth shut. Keep your mouth shut. Keep your mouth shut.

“Could it be this drought is God’s way of telling us to diversify? To use better, more modern methods, more modern equipment?” The questions burst out of him of their own accord. Luke shook his head vigorously, but it was too late. Josiah plowed ahead. “I mean, how do we know that isn’t God’s plan for us?”

Bishop Kelp steepled thick, hairy fingers. “We must not presume to know what the Lord’s plan for us is.” His stern gaze traveled the room. “None of us. Our focus must be on the Ordnung. On keeping our children on that path that steers them far from worldly ways. Breaking from our tradition now will not serve that purpose.”

Bishop Kelp’s gaze came to rest on Josiah. He swallowed and forced himself not to look away. After a second the bishop moved on. “What thoughts do the rest of you have?”

No one spoke. The curtains rustled in a faint breeze that passed through the open windows, providing the only sound.

“There are more and more influences battering us now.” Paul Yonkers finally broke the silent stalemate. He spoke rapidly. His features—so like Miriam’s—were drawn tight with nerves or excitement, Josiah couldn’t be sure which. “Perhaps a move would be better for all of us. I’ve heard there’s land to be had in Montana. New districts have started in Colorado. Parties have been sent out by other districts to Alaska and even Mexico. There are those among us who seem to delight in bringing worldly influences to our community, like snakes poised to strike.”

“Let’s speak our minds here.” Bishop Kelp’s sharp tone said he’d reached the end of his patience. “If you have something to say, say it straight out.”

Paul shifted from one dusty boot to the other. “Maybe it’s Josiah who should say it. Tell us, what was that Mennonite girl Sarah Kauffman doing in the blacksmith shop yesterday?”

A
nnie wiped damp palms on her apron and put her hand on the door to Bliss Creek’s police station. She’d never been in this building before. She couldn’t ever have imagined a time when it would be necessary. Luke would not be happy—if he found out. But he would never know. For now, he was still at the horse auction. The thought made her feel sneaky. Still, she had to do it. She’d been thinking about it all morning through the noise of the older Plank brothers, along with Samuel and Paul Yonkers, putting in the new windows at the bakery. She couldn’t bear the thought of Logan McKee all alone in a cell. Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe he felt sorry.

Go on. Go in.
She peeked inside. A ceiling fan whirred overhead, making a gentle, monotonous sound. She slipped over the threshold. Officer Bingham sat at a desk, his feet propped up, a
Hunting and Fishing
magazine draped over his belly. Music, tinny and indistinct, dribbled from a clock radio with big red numbers on it that set on a shelf over his head. His eyes were closed. She cleared her throat and let the door shut with a heavy click.

Officer Bingham swung his feet from the desk and sat up with a startled snort. “Yes sir! Yes sir!” The magazine slid to the floor. He bent over and smacked his forehead on the desk. “Ouch!”

Annie swallowed a giggle. It wasn’t nice to laugh at people in pain,
but Officer Bingham reminded her of a steer who’d mistaken a house for the barn. Suddenly she didn’t feel so nervous. “Sergeant Bingham, it’s just me. Annie Shirack.”

Rubbing his forehead, he righted himself. “Sorry, ma’am. I was just…I mean, I…just keeping up with the latest information on firearms, ma’am.”

Unless that information was written on the insides of Officer Bingham’s eyelids, Annie doubted that. “I’m here to see Logan McKee.”

“Pardon me?” Officer Bingham’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You can’t see the suspect. You’re a witness.”

“No, I’m not. I told Sergeant Parker I wasn’t—”

The door swung open so hard it banged against the inside wall. A young woman trotted in with a little girl in tow. The woman had long, stringy blond hair and a silver stud in her nose. The girl’s hair was a thick mat of dark curls that hadn’t seen a brush in a long while. They didn’t look much alike, but both wore pink T-shirts. The girl’s had something purple and sticky-looking all over it and seemed to be a size too big. The woman’s, on the other hand, stretched tight over a large belly. She was expecting. Both T-shirts made Annie long for a washtub and some soap.

She averted her eyes, aware that she’d been staring. She didn’t care for it when people stared at her long dress and kapp. But why would someone bring a small child into the police station?

“I’m here to see Logan McKee.” The woman spoke with the same southern drawl Annie had noticed in Logan’s speech. “I’m his… we’re…we’re together.” Her face turned the color of ripe tomatoes. “I’m Charisma Chiasson. I need to see him.”

Charisma Chiasson. What a beautiful name. Annie rolled it around in her head. Plain people choose plain names. Biblical names most times. That way no one put on airs or became too fancy. But the name Charisma Chiasson wasn’t fancy; it reminded Annie of the earth. Like David did with his eyes the color of wet, freshly plowed dirt.
No.
As of last night, she had set aside thinking of David as any more than Josiah’s closest friend. “I also would like to see Logan McKee,” she said firmly.

Charisma eyed Annie. Annie smiled at her, but didn’t speak. What did one say to the friend of someone who’d pointed a gun at you?

“You’re from the bakery, aren’t you?” Charisma’s face turned an even deeper shade of scarlet. “You’re the one he—”

“Whoa, now.” Officer Bingham raised both of his big hands. “Just back up the train, both of y’all. Hold on.” He hitched up the belt that held his gun and lumbered around his desk. “This isn’t visiting hours, ladies. You’ll have to come back in the morning. Nine to ten. Except tomorrow is Sunday so you best wait until Monday.”

Annie glanced around the office. Empty. Knowing Bliss Creek as she did, she could be almost certain Logan McKee was the only person currently in the jail. “I work in the mornings. Would it be a terrible problem to allow me to see him now—just for a minute or two?”

“Why do you want to see him?” Charisma tugged the little girl away from a crumpled soda can she was attempting to pull from a wastebasket. “Stop it, Gracie.”

Grace. Just as Annie imagined, she had blue eyes, fair skin, and dark hair. It was for her that Logan had committed this crime. “To see if he needs anything.”

“Gracie, stop it!” Charisma hoisted the girl on to her hip. Then she winced and rubbed her stomach. “Why would you do that?” she asked, turning back to Annie.

Annie searched for words to explain her desire to be charitable. Upbringing. Grace—the other kind of grace. Would the woman understand that? “He’s in jail.”

Seeming to ignore Annie’s response, the woman took a step closer to Officer Bingham.

“I really, really need to see him.” She swiped at her face with a crumpled tissue. “I need to talk to him. Please.”

“Rules is rules, ma’am. Ain’t a hotel we’re runnin’ here. He made a phone call. That’s about all he’s allowed for now. The judge will come in from Wichita to hold court on Tuesday morning.” Officer Bingham pawed at the stubble on his double chin. “I’m sorry. Come back Monday.”

“Did he call a lawyer? Ouch, Gracie, stop it!” Charisma ripped Gracie’s hand from her tangled hair. “He needs a lawyer.”

“The judge will assign him a public defender when he’s arraigned, since he’s indigent and all.”

Indigent. Annie searched for the meaning of the word. Didn’t have money. Of course he didn’t have money. If he had, he wouldn’t have been robbing a bakery. Never having been in this world of guns and laws and courts, she hadn’t thought about the money Logan McKee would need to defend himself.

“Then he’ll get out on bond?” For the first time, Charisma looked hopeful. Tears welled up in her blue eyes. “He’ll get out?”

“Depends on how good his lawyer is. And whether he can come up with the money for bail.” Officer Bingham didn’t sound like he held out much hope of either. “Plus he don’t live around here. That makes him a flight risk.”

The hope on Charisma’s face faded as quickly as it had appeared. She started to back toward the door, her lips pressed together in an obvious attempt not to cry. Sergeant Parker strode in just in time to nearly mow her down. Mayor Haag traipsed in behind him so he had no place to go. “Whoops, sorry!” He grabbed Charisma’s arm and steadied her. “Easy there.”

“Whoops!” Gracie crowed. She clapped her hands. “Whoops!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Charisma rushed past the newcomers and disappeared through the door.

Mayor Haag frowned and rubbed her arm as if she’d somehow been damaged by the encounter. “Young people. No manners these days. Absolutely no manners.”

“That was the prisoner’s girlfriend,” Officer Bingham threw in, his chest puffed up in a self-important pose. “And I’m guessing that was his kid.”

Frowning, Sergeant Parker removed his hat and ran a hand through short hair. “He said he had a family here, but he wouldn’t tell me where they were staying—not that they have a lot of choices here. Did she tell you anything?”

“Well, no. I, mean, I was gonna ask, but she got all out of sorts on account of the fact that I wouldn’t let her see the prisoner—”

“He has a name.” Annie couldn’t help herself. “The prisoner has a name. It’s Logan McKee.”

“I’m sorry, Annie.” Sergeant Parker massaged his hat with both hands. “If this seems harsh to you, I apologize, but we’re just doing our job.”

“I would like Logan McKee to get out of jail now.” Annie took a deep breath and called upon her small reserve of courage. “He’s had time to think about what he did and repent. I know he’s very sorry.”

The mayor laughed, a high, irritating cackle. “Good grief, child—”

Sergeant Parker held up a hand. “Mayor, please.” He turned to Annie. “I know your people do things differently, but Officer Bingham and I have to uphold the law. People can’t just go around trying to rob innocent ladies like yourself, Miss Miriam, and Mrs. Plank. We have to make sure Bliss Creek is safe for everyone. Otherwise, the crooks will come in and take over.”

“I don’t think Logan McKee is a crook.” Annie straightened, drawing herself up to her full five feet. “He made a mistake. I’m sure if you ask him, he’ll tell you he won’t do it again. I could vouch for him.”

Sergeant Parker slapped a big hand to his mouth, Mayor Haag snorted, and Officer Bingham laughed right out loud. “Vouch for a criminal you’d never seen before? Aren’t you the silliest girl—”

“No need to call names,” Sergeant Parker interrupted the officer. “Nothing wrong with a little compassion, even if it is misplaced.”

“That man does a mighty fine imitation of a crook.” Mayor Haag tapped a long painted fingernail on the counter that separated the foyer from the office. “And he’s staying right where he is until the judge comes in.”

Sergeant Parker stepped closer to Annie. “I’m sorry, really I am. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Something about his gentle tone reminded Annie of the way Luke talked to a spooked horse, or little Joseph when he had a nightmare. Annie edged toward the door. Sergeant Parker’s height always made her
feel young and small. Or maybe it was the gun on his hip. “I should go now. It’ll be time for fixing supper soon. I’ll work something out and come back Monday morning.”

“Absolutely not!” The mayor wedged herself between Annie and the door. “You can’t be seeing him period. You’re a witness. I want to make sure you’ll be at the courthouse on Tuesday. McKee will be arraigned. The city attorney wants all the witnesses there. We don’t want this criminal getting out on bond before his trial.”

Feeling like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights, Annie looked to Sergeant Parker for help. He gave her a slight shrug and an apologetic smile. No help from that quarter. She faced the mayor. “I’ll have to talk with my brother about that.”

Mayor Haag didn’t budge. “Missy, we need to show people that crime will not be tolerated in this town. Tourists will stop coming if we don’t. We need tourism to grow the town’s economy. Bliss Creek is going to be the next Lancaster County.”

“I thought farming was the mainstay of Bliss Creek’s economy,” Sergeant Parker said, finally speaking up. “Not gawking at our Amish neighbors.”

Given courage by his kind words, Annie squeezed past Mayor Haag. “I’ll not be speaking in court.” She lifted her chin and looked the mayor square in the eyes. “I’ve forgiven Mr. McKee. Maybe you can find it in your heart to do the same.”

Her own heart pounding, she slipped through the door. The mayor’s exasperated huffing followed her, but the woman didn’t. Could she make Annie go to the hearing? Could they make her speak in front of a judge and lawyers? Anxiety made it hard to breathe. Luke would know. He would talk to the bishop. They would work it out.

Annie set her dilemma aside and concentrated on the bigger problem that interested her a whole lot more. Charisma Chiasson looked desperate…as desperate as Logan had been at the bakery yesterday. What were they doing in Bliss Creek? Did they have family? It was none of Annie’s business, of course, except that Logan had chosen the bakery to rob.