Grace's Forgiveness (28 page)

Skinner snarled and crossed the room. He fisted his hand, lashed into Mark’s midsection, and knocked him to the floor. “Mister Amish man needs remindin’ we mean business. Nobody talks to me thataway.” Placing his boot on Mark’s back, he dug his heel into Mark’s spine. “Got the picture?”

Mark’s stomach clenched. He lay still, barely breathing. His heart thudded. Sweat beaded on his forehead and lips. He’d taken home his earnings. He’d left only a few coins in the cashbox. Not enough to satisfy these men. It would add to their anger. This could be his last day on earth.

Pain shot through his side as Skinner’s pointed boot kicked him. “Answer me, you fool.”

“Jah, I got it.” Mark flexed his hands and gritted his teeth. His side throbbed in sharp pain. “I have little money.” He could barely gasp out the words.

Buck marched over, grabbed Mark’s hair, and jerked his head back. “Git up!” He let go of Mark’s hair, swung him around, and slapped him hard across the face. “We caught sight of Abel in the saloon a couple days ago but lost him. He must’ve come to you. Where is he?”

Mark struggled to stand, swallowed the blood in his mouth, and ignored the burning pain where Buck had hold of his hair again. In one quick movement, the man could snap his neck and kill him. Clenching his fists, Mark wanted to punch and kick the men to a bloody pulp. The anger rose like a small flame fanning to a full-blown fire in his stomach. But he must turn the other cheek. It was what he’d been taught to do. Even if it cost him his life, he was done disobeying the Amish law. “I have no idea.”

Buck jerked his head back farther.

Skinner lunged forward, swung, and punched Mark in the stomach.

Mark swallowed the scream in his throat. He had to endure their humiliation and pain for Grace’s and Anna’s sakes. Nothing must alert them to check on him. He jerked forward then fell to the floor on his knees as bile rose and burnt his throat. He touched his burning scalp where hair had been yanked out. Crimson blood covered his fingers.

Buck stepped beside Skinner and pulled Mark upright and pushed him toward the counter. “Show me your cashbox. Give us what you’ve got. Hand over the money in your pockets, too.”

Skinner pulled his pistol out of his holster and peered out the window. “I turned the sign to ‘closed,’ but it’s busy on the boardwalk and street. We best be gettin’ on. He ain’t gonna give up his brother. The man let us beat him and didn’t lift a hand to defend himself. These Amish men are cowards.” He spit tobacco on the wooden floor. Without warning, he swung his arm across the toy shelf, and wooden figures flew across the room.

Mark swiped the blood from his brow, held his stomach, and stumbled behind the counter. He fell on his knees and every bone in his body raged with pain. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay alert.
The middle door.
Grace or Anna might kumme through it at any minute. This was the only time he was glad he and Grace had agreed not to speak or visit each other in case her daed came in unannounced. He pushed the pain out of his mind and used his hands to push himself up and lean on the counter. Throwing open the box, he shoved it at Buck then emptied his pockets. “It’s all I’ve got.”

Buck’s eyes bulged and he reached across the counter and dragged Mark’s body over it.

The room spun. Mark’s entire body pulsated in pain. He blinked several times and rubbed his neck to remain alert. He had to stay focused for Grace.

“You rotten lowlife. I’m sick of you not givin’ us what we want. Maybe when your brother hears we done killed you, he’ll figure we mean business and pay up.” Buck pulled his gun and held it to Mark’s chest.

Mark’s breath caught. His arms flew up in defense. “Please! No!”

Abel kicked in the door and aimed his rifle. “Put the gun down.”

Mark gasped.
Abel?
What were Abel and the sheriff doing here?

The sheriff pointed his shotgun at Skinner. “You! Put your gun on the ground nice and slow like. Then kick it across the floor to me. One wrong move and I’ll shoot. Got it?”

Skinner grunted. He bent, set his gun on the floor, and kicked it, sending it to the lawman.

The sheriff put his foot on the pistol and didn’t move.

Buck raised his gun.

Mark yelled, “Abel, watch out!”

Abel shot Buck in the leg.

“Ackkkkk!” Buck howled in pain. His gun fell to the floor as he grabbed his leg. Abel snatched it, shoved the man’s face against the rough boards, and then rolled him over onto his back. He slammed the heel of his boot on Buck’s chest, the rifle pointed squarely at his nose. “You move an inch, and I’ll shoot you again, you good-for-nothin’ scoundrel.”

Mark gasped. Abel was still an excellent shot. Puzzled, he couldn’t imagine why his bruder was here.

The sheriff pushed Skinner to the ground, rolled him over, and handcuffed him.

A deputy barged in. “Sheriff, are you all right? I returned to the office from checking on the widows and Mr. Blauch and his daughter rushed in and told us she heard a violent commotion in here. Who are these men?” He grabbed Buck’s cuffed hands and the back of his pants. He tilted his head to Abel. “I’ve got him.”

The sheriff roughly pulled the villain to his feet. “They’re robbers and up to no good. They belong in jail. As you can see, your prisoner’s been shot. He’s too dangerous to take to the doctor’s office. We’ll have the doctor come to the jail and fix him up.” He shoved his prisoner to the door. “Abel, thank you for your help.” He nodded to Mark. “You need to have the doctor take a look at you. They worked you over pretty bad.”

Gasping and relieved, Mark said, “Danki for your assistance, Sheriff. I’ll be fine.”

Abel narrowed his eyes at Buck and Skinner. “I hope you both rot in jail.”

Buck snarled. “I ever git my hands on you, you’re a dead man.”

Skinner spat at Abel. “Watch your back. If I do get out, I’m comin’ for ya too.” He struggled to get free.

The sheriff threw him to the ground and held a pistol to his head. “You try anything else and you’ll be the dead man. Do you understand me?”

“Ya, I got it.”

Pulling his prisoner up, the sheriff headed for the door. “I’ll notify sheriffs in other communities I have you two in custody. I suspect you’ve done enough damage in other locations, besides this town, to put you away for a long time.” He and the deputy nodded to everyone and escorted the criminals out of the store.

Abel pulled a chair and led Mark to it. “Sit and catch your breath. I’m so sorry about everything. I had to come back and try and fix things for you here. The Amish man at your door the day I left your haus stared right at me red-faced and frowning. I worried he’d tell the members you allowed me into your haus and shun you. I also had to do something about Buck and Skinner.”

Before Mark could say a word, Grace, Mr. Blauch, and Bishop Weaver entered.

“The sheriff told us to kumme in.” Grace dashed to Mark, stopping a few feet out of his reach but close enough he caught sight of the shimmering wet tears on her cheeks. “Awful thudding and scraping noises coming from your store caught my attention. I got scared and ran outside. When I peeked in the window, I was terrified the two men inside were going to kill you. I hurried to fetch the sheriff and bumped into Bishop Weaver and Daed and Abel on the way. I told them you were in trouble and I had to alert the sheriff, and the bishop agreed and they accompanied me. Several minutes ago, the deputy returned to his office. Daed and I alerted him the sheriff might need help.”

The aches couldn’t overshadow his desperate need to reach out and embrace her. He didn’t know which was worse, the physical pain or the torment of not being allowed to hold her.

His attention swung to Mr. Blauch. The man had a pleasant demeanor about him. Something must have happened, but what? He had so many questions. “Grace, you saved my life getting help. Another few minutes and the men may have killed me.”

Her words repeated in his mind. Why were his bruder, Bishop Weaver, and Mr. Blauch together? He wanted to ask his bruder questions. He glanced at the bishop. “May I have permission to speak to my bruder? If not, I understand.”

The bishop raised his eyes over his spectacles and peered at him. “In this case, I’ll make an exception.”

“I’m sorry, Abel. I’m thankful you saved my life today, but you are the reason my life was at risk. I’ve lost the love of my life because of you.” He avoided eye contact with Mr. Blauch. “Her daed won’t forgive me for talking to you the first time. If you care about me at all, stay away unless you’re ready to ask God and the members for forgiveness and return to the Amish life.”

Abel shuffled his feet. “I have spoken to Mr. Blauch and Bishop Weaver on your behalf. I’ll let Mr. Blauch explain our conversation.”

Mark stood and groaned. “You’re making things worse.” He gripped his throbbing head and sat.

“It’s all right. Listen to Mr. Blauch.”

Mr. Blauch dragged a chair and sat across from Mark. “Abel explained his actions and your innocence the day I found him at your haus. The bishop brought him to me. Abel told me you had not invited him in. He said you begged him to turn his life and did nothing else.”

Raking a hand through his hair, Mr. Blauch heaved a big sigh. “I’m sorry. I judged you harshly and didn’t give you a chance to explain the day I found Abel with you. I misunderstood. I blamed you for his transgressions and bringing these men into our community, when you were innocent of wrongdoing.”

Grace moved closer but didn’t touch him. Having her near eased the stabbing aches in his side and back. His forehead thumped, and the back of his head burned. He’d never experienced such agony, but Grace next to him and her daed apologizing was the best medicine for taking his mind away from it.

“Your apology means a lot to me. Will you reconsider letting Grace and me marry?”

“Jah, you and Grace have my blessing.” He drew in a breath. “I hope you will forgive me.” He stood. “I’m relieved you’re all right, son. You didn’t deserve any of this. If there’s anything I can do while you recuperate, let me know. After all, I’m practically your daed.”

Tears pooled in Mark’s eyes. “I’m so thankful to you and, of course, I forgive you.” He grabbed the counter and attempted to get up, but his knees buckled.

Mr. Blauch caught him and lowered him back to the chair. “Don’t stand. Please sit and gather your strength. As far as I’m concerned, this is over. We don’t need to speak of it again. You and Grace can plan your wedding.”

Bishop Weaver hadn’t said a word. He knelt and rested a hand on Mark’s knee. “After you’ve had time to heal, we’ll schedule dates for marital instruction and a wedding.” He winked. “You and Grace can still have November fifteenth.”

She beamed. “Danki. I was hoping we could reserve the same date.” She bounced on her toes and met Mark’s eyes. “I’m so joyful I could climb the highest mountain without taking a breath.”

Mark wiped his eyes. “Me too. This terrible day has turned wonderful fast. A day I’ll remember for very different reasons. The day God worked a miracle in our lives.”

The bishop said, “I agree.”

Abel leaned close to Mark. “I had to come back and speak on your behalf. I never meant to bring any harm to you. I’ve been selfish. Please forgive me. I love you, bruder.”

Mark wiped a tear. “I forgive you, and I love you, too.”

Bishop Weaver faced Abel. “Son, won’t you consider asking God and the members for forgiveness and return to our fold?”

Shaking his head, Abel stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I have been courting a woman in Louisville, Kentucky. She believes in God, attends church, and she loves me. After I left, I had time to think and pray. My first stop was here to make things right, and my next stop is to ask her to marry me.” He dug in his pockets, pulled out a handful of coins, and passed them to the bishop. “I’m sorry for stealing from the members. This should be more than enough to cover their losses. I stole things from Levi, Mark, and one other haus.”

Mark rubbed the ache in his neck. “Bishop, the other haus Abel is referring to is Samuel’s. Mrs. Paulson told Grace and Sarah about the robbery shortly after it happened. Please give Samuel and Levi my share.”

The bishop stared at the money. “I’ll hand this money to Samuel and Levi.”

Grace wrinkled her nose at Abel. “What will you do for work?”

“Her daed owns two hardware stores. She’s begged me to work for him. He’s offered to take me under his wing. I’ve managed to hide my drinking and money troubles from her. It’s time I change before I mess up the one good thing in my life. She attends church services in town. I’ll go with her.” He whispered in Mark’s ear, “The scarf you found is for her. She’s a wonderful woman.”

Mark stretched out his hand, but Abel bent and gently hugged him. “Mark, I hope you and Grace are happy. Take care.”

His bruder wiped his damp eyes.

“Be safe, Abel.”

Abel paused. “Grace, take care of him. He’s a wise and honest man. He’ll be a good husband.” He bid the men farewell and crossed the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned at Mark then shut the door behind him.

Mark swallowed around the lump in his throat and wiped tears from his eyes as he watched Abel walk out the door and out of his life. The knowledge his bruder was safe and had changed his life for the better made it easier.

Mr. Blauch pulled the door open. “I’m going to ask the doctor to return with me and take a look at you, Mark. His examining you here is better than taking you to his office. I’m sure it’s painful for you to move any more than necessary.”

“I’ll stay with Bishop Weaver and Mark until you return.” Grace had a radiant glow.

Mark’s heart soared once again to have her for his future fraa. God had worked a miracle in their lives. In a day, God had saved his life, given him peace about Abel, and blessed him with the best gift of all, Grace.

Bishop Weaver darted his eyes to Abel then Grace. “Abel’s chosen his life. We must never speak of him again. Understood?”

Grace and Mark nodded.

Mr. Blauch and a man carrying a medical bag entered. Mark recognized him as Dr. Rogers. He passed the doctor’s office each day going to the livery. He approached Mark. “Mr. King, I’m Dr. Rogers. I understand from Mr. Blauch you’ve been beaten. Tell me where you hurt.” He winced. “Your scalp is bleeding.” He examined the wound.