DC03 - Though Mountains Fall (11 page)

“The question that is in my mind,” Caleb said, “is what do we do now?”

Ira Shrock was the first to speak. “If the boy killed somebody he will have to be put in the ban, it’s as simple as that. We cannot abide a murderer in our midst. But we don’t have a bishop, and it don’t look to me like we’re going to have one anytime soon.”

“That might change,” Mahlon Yutzy said hopefully, “now that we got rid of those bandits.”

“They’re not the only bandits in the land,” Ira huffed.

Atlee Hostetler chimed in. “Jah, but now that we have troops in the valley we won’t be having so much trouble. We should write and tell the folks back home. Maybe a bishop will come at last.”

Caleb nodded, but he didn’t share their enthusiasm for the troops. They had not seen the things he’d seen.

“I will write them,” he said. “But just now we have to decide what to do with Jake.”

Hershberger, the man who was working Jake as a hired hand and knew him best, raised a finger and said, “I think we should take things in order here. We haven’t heard from Jake, nor have we heard from two witnesses.”

“Did you bring him?”

“Jah, just like you asked me to. He is waiting outside. What about the witnesses? Two witnesses are needed for a proper hearing.”

“I don’t think there
were
two witnesses,” Caleb answered. “Only Rachel. Domingo knows the truth, but he’s not one of us.”

“We can’t have a proper hearing anyway, since we don’t have a bishop,” Hershberger said. “So let’s bring Jake in here and see what he has to say for himself. We can listen to Rachel, too. We should hear this from the lips of those who were there, don’t you think?”

Several of the men mumbled words of assent.

Caleb motioned to Ezra, who stepped outside and returned in a moment with Jake trailing behind.

They questioned Jake at length. He freely admitted his guilt, and it was clear from his demeanor that he felt deep and terrible remorse, though he respectfully maintained that he never meant to kill the man.

As soon as Jake was allowed to leave, Ezra fetched Rachel from the house and they interviewed her. She confirmed everything Jake had told them, holding nothing back, even when they asked her why Jake attacked the man in the first place.

“The bandit was on top of me,” she said. “He came to me in the middle of the night to—” she hesitated, blushing, but then straightened herself—“to do terrible things to me. He tried once before, when we camped in the mountains, but El Pantera stopped him then.”

The men stirred and muttered among themselves.

Ira Shrock raised an eyebrow. “Why was this bandit so interested in you? Did you do something to provoke him?”

Caleb gave him a hard look, but said nothing.

Rachel met Ira’s stare. “I was forced to ride with him, sitting in front of him on his horse for hours, traveling through the mountains. He said many awful things to me about what he planned to do. I said nothing, did nothing. My hands were tied.”

Ira nodded. “You did
nothing
? Sin begins with tempta—”

“Enough,” Caleb said. “She was
bound
, Ira—a prisoner. She had just seen her brother killed by these same bandits, and I’ll thank you to remember that she’s my daughter.” He didn’t raise his voice, yet his tone was clear and firm.

Ever the peacemaker, Hershberger broke in before Ira could say anything else and started a different line of questioning. “Jake says he didn’t mean to kill the man, that he only meant to put him to sleep. Do you believe this is the truth?”

Rachel nodded. “I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be certain? Can you read Jake’s thoughts?”

“No, but I saw El Pantera trick him when they were wrestling by the campfire. That’s why—”

Ira broke in again. “Jake
wrestled
with the bandits?”

Rachel’s mouth flew open and she looked to her father for help, but Caleb only said, “Answer him.”

“Jah,” she said reluctantly, “but they forced him to do it. El Pantera held a knife to my throat and said he would kill me if Jake didn’t fight him. So Jake agreed, but only to wrestle. He would have won, too, but El Pantera tricked him. Jake got him from behind, with an arm around his throat, choking him, and El Pantera pretended to pass out. When Jake let go he jumped up and started hitting Jake with his fists.”

Ira smirked. “So the man in the barn was not the
first
bandit Jake strangled.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened into a thin line. “He never had a choice, Ira, and he never meant to kill that bandit.”

Ira’s expression didn’t change. “But, woman, he fought with a bandit, and the bandit died. Gott’s Word does not say, Thou shalt not
mean
to kill; it only says thou shalt not
kill
.”

Caleb sighed heavily. “Jake’s transgressions are between him and Gott, who knows his heart. We are only trying to decide what
we
should do. I think there have been enough questions. Rachel, you must leave now, so we can talk.”

She found Jake just outside, leaning back against the wall of the barn with his hands in his pockets. It was the first time she’d seen him since that morning in the churchyard, and the forlorn look was still in his eyes. He barely glanced at her.

“You lied to me,” he said.

She made sure no one was looking before she took his arm. “Jake, I’m sorry we lied to you, but there was nothing else we could do. You were acting like a dead man, the way you’re acting right now. None of us would have escaped if we hadn’t lied to you. Would you rather I was sold as a slave?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “No. I suppose a lie is better than that. But you could have told me after we got home.”

“Jah, and then what?”

He looked at her, shrugged. He didn’t see it.

“Then they send you to Ohio to face the bishop,” she said. “And you never come back. I didn’t want to lose you.”

His eyes widened as understanding took hold. Gripping her shoulders, he looked deeply into her eyes. “Rachel, you
can’t
lose me. Did you learn nothing in Diablo Canyon? We can be
separated for a time, but I will come to you. No matter how far, no matter who stands in the way, if I can draw breath I will find my way back to you.”

Overcome with emotion, she couldn’t answer.

“Anyway,” he said, “you’re forgetting something. In less than a year I’ll be twenty and then I can make my own decisions.”

This was true. In their district a boy became his own man at the age of twenty. He could keep the money he earned and go wherever he wanted.

A kiss brushed her forehead. It was the lightest of kisses and yet it rolled through her like a warm wave. Forgiveness.

“Jake, what did they say to you?”

He sighed deeply. “They just asked a lot of questions about what happened. I will be banned, I could see it in their eyes. But not for long. I’ll repent and be forgiven. What about you? Are you in any trouble?”

Rachel hung her head. “Only with my dat. He was upset about the lies, but the church won’t do anything since I haven’t been baptized.”

He nodded. “Jah, I forgot. Maybe I would be better off if I hadn’t got baptized when I did.”

She heard the shuffling of feet, the murmuring of voices, and let go of his arm. “They’re done. Here comes my dat.”

Caleb walked up to them slowly with his head down, his wide hat hiding his face. When he finally looked up, Rachel saw the worry lines deepened around his eyes. Miriam’s wedding, the battle with the bandits, and now this. It had been a very trying day.

“It was as I feared,” Caleb said. “No one here is able to deal with such a thing—or wants to. They were all in agreement that I should write to the bishop back in Ohio and see what he would have us do. But there is another thing on which they
all agreed. I must also write to your father, Jake, and tell him everything.”

“What will happen now?” Rachel asked.

“Most likely Jake will have to appear before the church and the bishop, where punishment will be decided. He will probably be banned, at least for a time.”

“Will the bishop come here?” Jake asked.

“We won’t know that until we get a letter back from him,” Caleb said. “I’ll write him tonight and maybe we’ll have an answer in two or three weeks.”

Chapter 9

M
iriam braced herself for the inevitable culture shock of going from American Amish to Mexican peasant, but nothing could have prepared her for the wedding party. Domingo said only relatives and close friends would be there, so she was shocked when half the population of San Rafael turned up at Kyra’s house. Red was the color she had chosen for her wedding, to match the roses on her dress; the whole house and yard were trimmed in red banners and clay pots of red cactus flowers. Half of the women wore red dresses. When she and Domingo climbed down from the carriage the guests lined the walk for the ritual entry of the new couple into his mother’s home—or in this case his sister’s home where his mother lived.

“The whole clan is here,” Kyra said when Miriam finally made it to the house. “Oh, there will be dancing and singing far into the night.”

“But, Kyra, I’ve ruined my lovely dress.”

Kyra’s eyes sparkled. “No matter. Come, let’s get you cleaned
up and then I will show you the
new
dresses Maria and I have made for you.”

“New dresses?” Miriam had no trouble feigning surprise, for Kyra’s sake.

“Sí. A bride always shows off her finery at the wedding feast—it’s the custom. Come!”

There was something different about the bedroom, but in the excitement Miriam didn’t realize what it was until after she’d already changed and was about to make her grand entrance.

The dresser was gone. The night she and Kyra left to search for Domingo they had put on Kyra’s father’s clothes, and she remembered taking them from a lovely little dresser with brass pulls on the drawers and fancy inlaid designs. It seemed out of place in a peasant house—far too elegant and expensive. Kyra said her father had salvaged it from a raid on a hacienda. Until now, in the mad rush of her wedding day, Miriam hadn’t even noticed it was missing.

“Kyra, what happened to the little dresser that was here before?”

With a curiously sad smile Kyra took her hand, ran a thumb over the gold ring on Miriam’s finger and said, “You are wearing it.”

Miriam shook her head. “No, Maria told me about the rings. They belong to the church and will have to—”

“No,
mi hermana
. My mother and I did not want that for you, so we sold the dresser. The ring is bought and paid for. It is yours to keep.”

“But that fancy dresser was all that was left of your father! You said it was the only thing the Revolution gave you in return for his life—how could you bear to part with it?”

Kyra smiled. “Miriam, the thing itself was not important, only what it represented. It was a symbol.
This
,” she said, touching a fingertip to Miriam’s ring, “is a much better symbol. My
father is smiling because this is what he himself would have done. He would have loved you so much.”

Miriam turned the little gold band on her finger, staring at it in wonder, too moved for words.

“I have never owned a ring before,” she finally said. “My people don’t wear jewelry. Thank you, sister. Your father lives on in his children, and already I feel like one of them.”

———

Miriam made a grand entrance in her new dress, then sat on a woven mat beside Domingo’s chair as the guests filed by to offer best wishes and present their gifts, usually a few pesos.

A trio of guitar players circulated among the crowd outside, the wine flowed, and the singing and dancing began. Miriam did her best to follow Domingo’s lead, but her Amish feet betrayed her. Her new family laughed at her, and then
with
her, and when they took it upon themselves to educate her in proper dance steps they did it with such grace and charm that her Amish feet actually learned some of it.

She hadn’t laughed so hard in years. Even Paco joined the festivities with his arm in a sling, and she marveled at his great good humor, despite the wound, until he confessed that he’d allowed himself a touch of tequila.