Holding a Tender Heart (34 page)

Verna met her in the middle of the lawn. “Is there
gut
news?” She clutched her white apron, and her eyes begged for a positive answer.

“Come,” Debbie touched Verna's arm. “Your prayers may have been answered at least in part, but we need to keep praying. Getting Joe to cooperate may be the hard part. That was Ms. Hatcher's concern.”

Verna's face glowed with hope. “Then the lawyer told you what must be done?”

“Yes. She wants witnesses who can testify as to where Joe was on these dates and times.” Debbie handed Verna the paper. “Joe may not have been anywhere other than at home, and he may refuse to ask his friends to testify if he wasn't home. Maybe that's why he's not cooperating.”

“I don't know.” Verna's fingers traced the writing on the paper. “This is a start. We must be thankful for what
Da Hah
has given us.”

“We need to gather this information before Joe's appointment with Ms. Hatcher on Friday. Do you think you can get him to cooperate?”

Verna shook her head. “
Nee
. I think it's you that must ask him, Debbie.”

“Me? Ask Joe?”

“I think he will tell you what he will not tell the lawyer.”

“But, Verna…”

Verna's eyes pleaded with her. “You have already done so much, Debbie, and I almost dare not ask for more. But Joe must not go to jail, and this…it may be all we have.”

Debbie winced. “Do you people always make things this hard?”

Verna appeared troubled. “Now you speak as the
Englisha
, Debbie. I thought your heart was with us?”

Debbie hesitated. “Okay, Verna.” She took a deep breath. “I'll do what I can. I have the rest of the day off, and it's at your disposal.”

“Oh!” Verna's eyes filled with tears. “It was a blessed day when you came to our house, Debbie. Only
Da Hah
could have sent you. Thank you so much.”

Debbie looked away. She understood Verna's emotion, but this much praise was a little overboard. She finally met her friend's gaze.

“Then you will speak with Joe today?” Verna asked.

“If that's what you wish.”

“I will go with you.” Verna glanced back at the house. “There's not much going on right now. I'll tell
Mamm.
”

“I'll come along,” Debbie said as she followed Verna to the house.

Saloma met them at the front door, and Debbie waited while Verna explained their errand. Saloma gave Verna a quick hug. “You know I won't stand in the way of what needs doing, Verna. Just be careful that you don't do anything that's against the
Ordnung
.” Saloma glanced at Debbie. “I thank you for what you're doing, Debbie. We're all very grateful.”

“Don't think about it,” Debbie said. “You're giving me a place to stay, aren't you?”

A slight smile crept over Saloma's face as she dismissed them with a quick wave of her hand.

Debbie stayed close behind Verna on the walk back to the barn. Though she paid room and board, it wasn't nearly what the amount should be. Perhaps if she helped with Joe and Verna's problem, it would help repay the Beilers in an even greater way than money could. She jingled her keys in her hand and stopped short of her car. “I think we'd better take the buggy, Verna, even though it takes longer.”

Verna didn't have to think long. “That's very wise. It will also make it easier for Joe.”

Debbie stepped back to allow Verna the lead. They entered the musky darkness of the barn. Inside the summer heat was held at bay. “We'll take Buttercup,” Verna decided without hesitation. She called for the horse at the barnyard door and had Buttercup haltered seconds later.

Once outside, Debbie held up the shafts. This she knew how to do. She held them high in the air and brought them down over the horse as she'd been taught. It was easy with two people. The Beiler girls made the maneuver look so effortless when they hitched the horse to the buggy by themselves. Once everything was fastened, Debbie climbed inside. Verna threw her the lines and then pulled herself up.

“You drive,” Verna said. “I'm too distracted right now. We might run up a ditch.” Debbie laughed, which elicited a weary smile from Verna. “I guess that is a little ridiculous. But I feel so tense I could burst. What if Joe refuses to tell us if there are any witnesses? Or worse, what if he had no one who was with him on any of those nights?”

“There ought to be someone,” Debbie offered. She turned onto Route 522. Buttercup knew the way well enough, so Debbie only had to keep slight tension on the lines. She was still nervous about driving a horse.

“I pray you're right!” Verna said letting out a breath.

“Get up!” Debbie called to Buttercup, who was moving forward at an easy walk. The horse paid her no mind. She didn't even switch her tail because Debbie's voice didn't yet contain the Amish air of authority.

Verna's voice was tense as she prayed out loud. “Help us,
dear Hah,
help us help Joe.”

Debbie focused on the task at hand—keeping Buttercup on the road.

Beside her, Verna spoke a steady stream of prayer, pausing only to wave at passing buggies. She prayed until they arrived at the Weaver farm.

“Thank
Da Hah
!” Verna exclaimed. “Joe's working with the team close to the barn. I was afraid we'd have to walk all the way to the back pasture.”

Debbie pulled Buttercup to a halt by the barnyard fence. Off in the field, Joe waved and came toward them at a fast walk, leading his team. Verna tied Buttercup to the fence.

“You're here again!” Joe came up, leaned over the fence, and touched Verna on the arm. “Do you think this is wise?”

“It's important. Trust me,” Verna said, gazing into his eyes.

Debbie glanced away until Joe said, “Hi, Debbie. Good to see you again.”

“And you,” Debbie replied. “I hope you still feel that way after you hear what we have to say.”

“Oh?” Joe's face fell. “Then there is bad news?”

“Depends how you look at it.” Verna wrung her hands. “Joe, you have to tell us who was with you on the nights of the robberies. These times.” Verna unfolded the paper and handed it to him. “You already know this is what the lawyer needs. Please cooperate.”

Joe didn't even glance at the paper. He stared at Verna instead. “Where did this come from?”

“I got it from your lawyer,” Debbie spoke up. “Don't blame anyone but me.”

Joe met her gaze. “It's not a matter of blame, Debbie. It's what can and cannot be done. We don't believe in doing things the way the world does them. This lawyer already tried to talk me into suing my accuser. I know you come from another world, but suing people is not how we live.”

“Joe, please.” Verna was close to tears. “This is not about suing anyone. It's only proving where you were at certain times. There's nothing wrong with this.”

Joe seemed to waver, so Debbie plunged forward. “Okay, so let me ask the questions of these witnesses—if there are any. You don't even have to get involved. But you can surely tell us who they are—or if there
are
witnesses to your whereabouts at these times.”

Joe thought for a moment. “Perhaps I could do that. If you're both agreed that this is right.”

“Oh, Joe!” Verna clung to his arm. “We are!”

“There's nothing wrong with this.” Debbie pointed to the paper Joe was still holding. “Who would know your whereabouts on those nights and on those dates? Hopefully someone who isn't family and who is reputable.”

Joe studied the paper for a long time. His face grew dark. “These are all weekend nights, Verna. Fridays and Saturdays. I cannot do this.”

“For us, Joe! Please!” Verna begged.

Debbie saw him weaken and his hand tremble.

“Okay, I will tell you who knows, but I will say no more. If he decides not to speak, you must hold nothing against him. Promise me that.”

“He will speak, Joe!” Verna had tears on her face.

Joe said, “The man is Paul Wagler. He's already offered to help in whatever way he can. It's just that there will be trouble for him in the community if he is asked to testify in court. I don't want to ask him, Verna.”

“Then
we
will ask him,” Verna said, her face glowing. “We need to ask him by Friday morning. That's when you have your appointment with the lawyer, isn't it?”

“It is.” Joe looked at the ground. “But you mustn't ask him, Verna. Debbie must. It's the only way Paul will feel free with his choice. He must not be pressured, and you
are
the bishop's daughter.”

Verna's face shone. “We must go then. And thank you, Joe. Only Debbie will speak with Paul, I promise.”

“I must get back to my work.” Joe turned to go and gave a little wave over his shoulder.

Verna didn't wait for Joe to reach his team before she'd untied Buttercup. Soon the girls were driving out of the lane, Buttercup moving along at a brisk trot. Verna took the lines this time.

Debbie's mind was already reeling with what she must do. What on earth would Paul think of her when she went to see him alone? Would he think she'd orchestrated the visit? But she hadn't, and he would have to understand that. She would see to it that no fancy ideas entered his head.

“Oh, Debbie!” Verna held the lines in one hand and squeezed her friend's arm with the other. “Thank you! Thank you! I can't thank you enough for helping us.”

“The Amish do make things harder,” Debbie ventured. “Why didn't Joe volunteer this information a long time ago? Especially if Paul offered to help?”

“It's his
gut
heart,” Verna replied. “And we Amish don't like to deal with the
Englisha
law. But you must not hold that against him. I love Joe even more for wanting to spare Paul from having to testify, especially if, as Joe says, it will cause trouble for Paul.”

Debbie nodded. Yes, that was like Joe. For that reason alone Debbie would be glad to help if she could. But seeing Paul Wagler? She sighed. She really didn't look forward to that visit at all.

Thirty-Two

T
wo hours later Debbie parked her car close to the Waglers' barn. She climbed out and closed the car door with care. The silence of the place rushed over her. No one was in sight. Though she'd driven her car, she was still in her Amish dress—at Verna's insistence.

Debbie approached the barn and peeked in. “Hello? Is anyone here?” A few of the horses banged against their stalls. She turned and walked past her car and across the lawn. The front door of the house opened before she got up the steps. Before her the smiling face of Paul's
mamm
, Lavina, appeared.

“Well, if it isn't Debbie!” Lavina gushed. “What brings you out here…and with your…” Lavina took the car in with a quick glance, but her smile was back in an instant. “Why don't you come in, Debbie? I can get some cold lemonade squeezed right away. It gets right warm on these summer afternoons.”

Debbie cleared her throat. “I need to speak with Paul, Mrs. Wagler. That's why I checked at the barn first. I don't wish to take up your time. I'm sure you're busy.”

Lavina waved vaguely. “All the men are down at Silas Warners' place, helping with the hay making. You can drive down and see if Paul has a few moments. But first I insist on a glass of lemonade. I
couldn't live with myself if I knew Bishop Beiler's Debbie had been here and I sent her away without any refreshment.”

“Really, please, it's not necessary,” Debbie tried to keep her voice firm, but resistance was useless. The look on Lavina's face said she wouldn't take no for an answer. And it did warm her heart—those few words Lavina had spoken…
Bishop Beiler's Debbie
. The sound was like music to her ears. How could she resist? She'd been accepted in the community—at least by some people. This was a delightful moment indeed, and so unexpected in the middle of a hectic day.