lives than he had ever realized. “How do you stand it, Bertha?”
“God gives us strength,” Bertha said. “And once people look their fill, they grow bored. They see that we are not so interesting after all, but just people living our lives. Then they leave us alone and we buy our spools of thread in peace.”
“You are a wise woman, Bertha.”
“No.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But I have lived longer. Now we must decide what to do with you. Do you have a plan?”
“Not really, but a roommate from college has an old hunting cabin in West Virginia. Up in the mountains. He told me a long time ago that if I ever needed to get away, it would be available. I’ve been thinking of going there when I get my truck fixed.”
Bertha thought this over. “It would be better for Bobby if you stayed here.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Why?”
Joe hesitated. “Because of Rachel.”
“Ah yes. Our Rachel. She is a suspicious one, that girl.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Do not judge her too harshly.” Bertha shook her head. “She has been through much.”
Joe found himself more curious about Rachel than he would have guessed a mere twenty-four hours earlier. “In what way?”
“She lost her mother when she was young, and then there was her father, my little brother….” Her eyes took on a faraway gaze. “He was always fascinated with guns. Even as a boy, he was constantly out in the woods target practicing with our father’s hunting rifle.”
“Your people own guns?”
Bertha looked surprised. “Of course. How do you think we protect our livestock from predators?”
“I had no idea. Please go on.”
“After Frank chose not to join the church, he became a policeman, but he worried about keeping his weapons in the same house as his little girl. Children are fascinated with forbidden things, so as soon as he thought she was ready, he brought Rachel out to the farm and did target practice with her, over and over. Lydia and I grew tired of hearing the shots.”
“Rachel wanted to do this?”
“Oh yes. She was a natural. On her eleventh birthday, she and her father went to the bank for money to celebrate. A man was robbing the bank when they entered. My brother went for his gun, but the robber was faster.”
“I am so sorry, Bertha.”
“Rachel was standing next to her daett when he was shot. It is not something a young girl—or anyone—should ever experience.”
For the first time, Joe got a glimmer of why Rachel was so serious and grim. Now he knew. She, too, had experienced the evil that resided in the world.
“People who were there at the bank,” Bertha continued, “said that as her father went down, Rachel bent over him. They thought she was bravely trying to protect her father with her own body, but when she stood back up, she had both hands wrapped around his revolver—and it was cocked.”
Joe swallowed. “Go on.”
“She pointed the gun straight at the robber, even though he already had a gun. They said her hands were steady and her finger was on the trigger, but tears were streaming down her face.”
“Oh, Bertha.” He knew at that moment that he would never look at Rachel in the same way again.
“The bank robber didn’t know what to do. Having a little girl in a frilly, pink birthday dress pointing a handgun at him was not something he had anticipated. A male customer tackled him from behind while he hesitated.”
“What about Rachel?”
“One of Frank’s deputies had to talk to her for a long time before she handed the gun to him.” Bertha shook her head. “She never wore pink again.”
“I see.”
“I also see, Joe. I see your kindness toward us and your love for this child. I think you are a good man who needs our help. You are welcome to share what we have for as long as you need to stay.”
Her words were like a gift. Who would ever have believed that his shattered faith in mankind could be resurrected by an elderly Amish
“God gives us strength,” Bertha said. “And once people look their fill, they grow bored. They see that we are not so interesting after all, but just people living our lives. Then they leave us alone and we buy our spools of thread in peace.”
“You are a wise woman, Bertha.”
“No.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But I have lived longer. Now we must decide what to do with you. Do you have a plan?”
“Not really, but a roommate from college has an old hunting cabin in West Virginia. Up in the mountains. He told me a long time ago that if I ever needed to get away, it would be available. I’ve been thinking of going there when I get my truck fixed.”
Bertha thought this over. “It would be better for Bobby if you stayed here.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Why?”
Joe hesitated. “Because of Rachel.”
“Ah yes. Our Rachel. She is a suspicious one, that girl.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Do not judge her too harshly.” Bertha shook her head. “She has been through much.”
Joe found himself more curious about Rachel than he would have guessed a mere twenty-four hours earlier. “In what way?”
“She lost her mother when she was young, and then there was her father, my little brother….” Her eyes took on a faraway gaze. “He was always fascinated with guns. Even as a boy, he was constantly out in the woods target practicing with our father’s hunting rifle.”
“Your people own guns?”
Bertha looked surprised. “Of course. How do you think we protect our livestock from predators?”
“I had no idea. Please go on.”
“After Frank chose not to join the church, he became a policeman, but he worried about keeping his weapons in the same house as his little girl. Children are fascinated with forbidden things, so as soon as he thought she was ready, he brought Rachel out to the farm and did target practice with her, over and over. Lydia and I grew tired of hearing the shots.”
“Rachel wanted to do this?”
“Oh yes. She was a natural. On her eleventh birthday, she and her father went to the bank for money to celebrate. A man was robbing the bank when they entered. My brother went for his gun, but the robber was faster.”
“I am so sorry, Bertha.”
“Rachel was standing next to her daett when he was shot. It is not something a young girl—or anyone—should ever experience.”
For the first time, Joe got a glimmer of why Rachel was so serious and grim. Now he knew. She, too, had experienced the evil that resided in the world.
“People who were there at the bank,” Bertha continued, “said that as her father went down, Rachel bent over him. They thought she was bravely trying to protect her father with her own body, but when she stood back up, she had both hands wrapped around his revolver—and it was cocked.”
Joe swallowed. “Go on.”
“She pointed the gun straight at the robber, even though he already had a gun. They said her hands were steady and her finger was on the trigger, but tears were streaming down her face.”
“Oh, Bertha.” He knew at that moment that he would never look at Rachel in the same way again.
“The bank robber didn’t know what to do. Having a little girl in a frilly, pink birthday dress pointing a handgun at him was not something he had anticipated. A male customer tackled him from behind while he hesitated.”
“What about Rachel?”
“One of Frank’s deputies had to talk to her for a long time before she handed the gun to him.” Bertha shook her head. “She never wore pink again.”
“I see.”
“I also see, Joe. I see your kindness toward us and your love for this child. I think you are a good man who needs our help. You are welcome to share what we have for as long as you need to stay.”
Her words were like a gift. Who would ever have believed that his shattered faith in mankind could be resurrected by an elderly Amish
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