Authors: Patrick E. Craig
Jerusha hesitated for a moment and then said, “
Daed
, you don't know Reuben as well as I do, so you can't see how much he's changed. But I see it. I do want to be his wife, and yet sometimes I think he's not the man I fell in love with. It's as though a stranger came home from the war.”
“I'm not sure I understand.”
“Always before, there was a part of Reuben that took joy in life. Even when he looked stern there was a smile behind his eyes. That smile is gone. And so is the joy, and that frightens me. It's as though the piece of Reuben that makes him whole and happy died in the war. And now he's built a wall to hide the empty place where his heart used to be. I'm afraid that I may use my love to help him break down that wall and find that the darkness there kills my love too.”
Jerusha looked at her father.
“That's why I may not seem so joyful when you tell me we can marry. It's that I'm afraid. Afraid I may not have enough love in me to heal him, afraid that I may not be strong enough to be his helpmeet when the trials come. A little voice inside me says, âWait, wait,' and I tremble when I hear it. And yet I'm so desperately in love with him. I just want to be with him forever.”
Suddenly Jerusha burst into tears. Her father looked at her for a moment and then gently took her into his arms.
“My beloved
dochter
,” he said quietly. “I have watched you grow from a precocious child into a woman of strength and faith. I don't know what lies before you in this union, but I do know this. I trust that you are strong enough and loving enough to walk through any trial as long as you continue to place your trust in the Lord and follow Him. We can't control the things that happen to us in our lives. We just trust that all things work together for our good. Reuben has returned to the fold, and he has placed himself under the
ordnung
again. You are a strong woman. With these things to help him, I believe Reuben can be a good husband and, with God's blessing, a good father. I am not a woman, but I know that every woman must work through such questions when she is to be married. Trust me in this, Jerusha, trust the Lord, and be a wife to this good man.”
Jerusha stood in the strong circle of her father's arms and felt a peace flood her soul. Surely God had spoken to her through her
daed.
“I will marry him,
Daed
, and I'll help him to live in the present and put the war and all the terrible things he saw behind him,” she said quietly.
“
Gut,
” he said. “Then you may marry in November, after the harvest.”
Jerusha's heart sank within her as she lay in the dark cabin.
I should have listened to my heart and waited. Reuben was so bound up, but I just ignored the warning signs. I should never have married him.
And then Jerusha heard the voice, the one that reminded her of her
daed,
but deeper and more peaceful.
“
But then you never would have known Jenna, dochter.
”
“What good did it do me to give birth to Jenna!” she cried aloud. “The pain of losing her was too much to bear. If I had not married Reuben, I would be happy now, and I wouldn't have these scars on my heart. There would be no Jenna to long for, no Reuben to be bound to.”
Jerusha began to cry again.
Just then the little girl woke up. She looked up at Jerusha, and then her little arms stole around Jerusha's neck and she pulled Jerusha close. In her half-sleep she spoke.
“Don't be sad, Mama. Please don't cry.”
Jerusha looked down at the little face, and her heart melted.
What's happening to me? Why did you send me this little one?
“
To comfort you, dochter, to comfort you.
”
B
OBBY
H
ALVERSON WENT OUT
to the shed behind his parents' house. His dad had fired up a kerosene heater, and the shed was much warmer inside than it was outside.
He checked the electrical connections to the glow plugs to make sure they were seated properly and then got into the cab and fired up the diesel engine. He let it run for a few minutes until it was warm and the heater had taken the chill off the inside of the cab.
While he was sitting there waiting, he did something that both surprised him and made him a bit uncomfortable. He bowed his head and prayed out loud.
“Lord, if Jerusha is still alive out there somewhere, will You please help me to find her? Give me strength for this day and a clear head so I can do what I need to do. Thank you...uh, amen.”
Bobby looked around to see if anyone had seen him praying and then thought better of it.
So what if I prayed? I need all the help I can get.
He pulled the flaps on his woolen cap down over his ears and headed out. The wind was howling, and the snow was piled two feet high around the Halverson house. As he pulled out of the shed, he saw his dad coming across the yard. He leaned out of the cab as his dad called up to him.
“Do you know where you're going to start?” he hollered over the wind.
“I think I'll go by the Springer house again to see if she got home somehow,” Bobby yelled. “If she's not there, I'm going to run by the sheriff's office and let him know what's going on and see if he's got any extra men who can help me look. Then I'll go back out to Kidron and see what I can find, maybe go by Mark's and see if he's seen or heard anything. I'll stop by Dutch's place before I head out toward Dalton and get some fuel.”
“Okay, son,” his dad yelled. “Get number one fuel, not number two. It's more volatile and burns hotter. Be safe out there. Your mother and I will be praying for you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate that.”
For some strange reason, the fact that his parents would be praying made him feel better. Then he had a thought that he spoke aloud.
“God, I forgot. Would You please let Reuben know somehow that Jerusha's in trouble and send him home? Thanks.”
This must be what they call shotgun prayers. I'm just firing them off and hoping someone hears me.
Fifteen minutes later, Bobby pulled into the lane that led down to the Springer home. It was just beginning to get light. The snow had drifted across the road, and there were no car tracks leading to the house. He pulled up in front, idled the engine, and got down to look around. The house was dreary and dark, and snow was heaped on the front porch. The windows, dark and blank, stared back at him like dead eyes. Whatever life had once been in this house was gone.
Just as he was ready to turn back, he noticed something. Prints in the snow. But whose? He could see a recent single set of tracks lead up from the side of the porch and to the front door. Then they turned and went back toward the Lowensteins' next door.
Bobby jumped down and hurried across the bridge to the Lowenstein's place and banged on the door. After a few minutes Hank came to the door.
“Bobby!” he exclaimed. “Come in, come in!”
“Thanks. I guess you heard about Henry. He's at Doc Samuels'.”
“Yes, we did hear. He's going to be all right,” Hank said.
“Then you know his story? He crashed the car on Kidron Road and was walking into town to get help when a windblown tree limb hit him and knocked him cold.”
“We heard. We're hoping the weather clears enough for us to get over there. But what about Jerusha?” asked Hank.
“She's still missing. By the time I got Henry to tell me where the car was and Mark and I got over there, Jerusha was gone. Either she tried to walk out or someone came by to help her. The wind had blown any tracks away, so that didn't help. I came by here hoping she might have made it home somehow.”
“No, we haven't seen any sign of life over there.”
“I saw a set of footprints leading here and I wondered whose they might be. I was hoping maybe Reuben came home.”
“Those were my tracks,” Hank said. “I couldn't sleep, so I got up an hour ago and went over to the Springer's to see if Jerusha was back. The house was dark, and no one has been there.”
“Okay, Hank, thanks. I'll be on my way. As my dad says, âI'm wasting daylight.'”
“You be extra careful out there today, Bobby. I've never seen a storm like this one, and it's going to get worse today before it gets better. Martha and I will be praying for you.”
Bobby turned and walked back to the tractor.
Why is everyone praying for me all of a sudden? Even I'm praying. I thought I didn't believe in God. At least that's what I told Reuben.
Bobby was mustered out of the Marines with a medical discharge, a Purple Heart, and a Silver Star for his part in the Battle of the Ridge. He left Hawaii about a month before Reuben and arrived in Apple Creek at a loss as to what to do with his life.
Of course there was a flurry of activity when he came home. He was made over and welcomed back by his friends, and clucked over by his folks. The local VFW even put on a dinner for the returning hero, but within a few weeks all the attention died down, and he was just plain old Bobby Halverson again. He got hired to work at his old job, moved in with his folks, and even started going back to his favorite bar in Wooster, but somehow his life wasn't the same as he had left it. His dad saw him moping about the house one weekend afternoon and took him aside.
“When I got back from the big war, there was a song that was real popular. It went something like, âHow ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm after they seen Paree?' It looks to me like you're going through something like that, eh, son?”
“That's kind of what I'm feeling, I guess,” Bobby said. “But that's not all there is to it. It's just that I never really knew what I was getting into when I went to the Pacific. I mean, it's one thing to talk about killing the enemy and saving the world for democracy, but it's different when you're in hand-to-hand combat in a trench and you know that the only way to live through it is to kill the guy you're fighting. It gets a lot more personal. Staring down a sniper scope at a slight movement in a tree two hundred yards away is one thing, but it's completely different when you have a man skewered on your bayonet and you see the life go out of his eyes. When you've been through an experience like that, it kind of makes you feel disconnected from ordinary life. I can't seem to get a grip on things since I got back.”