Page 13 of A Gathering of Secrets

“Did Dr. Gray take X-rays?”

“I think so.”

I nod. “Did Daniel ever have any broken bones?”

The Amish man’s face twists into a mask of agony, but he fights the wave of emotion and recovers. “When he was seven. Fell out of the hayloft and broke his arm.”

“Do you recall which doctor he saw?”

“We took him to the emergency room at Pomerene.” His mouth quivers again. “I know why you’re asking these questions. I cannot…”

Unable to finish the sentence, he lowers his face into his hands, emits a sob fraught with unbearable sadness.

I reach out and set my hand on his arm. “I’ll come see you the moment I know anything, good or bad.”

Raising his head, he nods, then walks into the house without a word.

* * *

The Mercantile was usually silent at nine P.M. The shop closed at six o’clock sharp six days a week, and that schedule hadn’t altered since the place opened a year ago. Tonight, however, Shania Twain belted out a song, proclaiming to the world she felt like a woman. The industrial lighting that lent so much character to the old barn, with its ancient beams and concrete floor, buzzed with electricity. The aromas of apple cider and cinnamon filled the air with the essences of autumn.

Neva Lambright would never tell anyone, especially her mamm, but this was her favorite time of day. After hours, when the customers, with all their stupid questions and nitpicky complaints, were gone, the music was blasting something that would make her datt frown, and it was just her and her friends, Ina Yoder and Viola Stutzman.

The three girls had been best friends for so long, Neva couldn’t even remember when they met. They’d grown up together, attended school together, shared the trials and tribulations of becoming young women together. And so last year, when Neva’s mamm and datt opened their Amish tourist shop, Ina and Viola were the natural choices for employees.

Tonight, the three of them were at the front of the store, working on the two display windows for Allelieweziel, or Halloween, which was a month away. Viola, the most creative of the three, had come up with the idea of displaying a few of their trick-or-treat costumes for the little ones, everything from pirates to Superman to cute Amish outfits replete with dresses and kapps for girls, and trousers with suspenders and straw hats for boys.

The second window had been fashioned to look like a spuk haus, or haunted house. They’d borrowed one of the boxed electric fireplaces from the housewares department. Viola added the skull lantern with its grinning mouth and backlit eyes. Ina had kiddingly suggested adding a skeleton, but Neva had run with it. They’d dragged a chair from the café, put Mr. Skeleton in the chair, and given him Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” to read.

“Some of the Amish aren’t going to like all this spooky stuff,” Ina pointed out.

From her place inside the display window, Viola sprayed cobwebs onto the chair. “The Englischers are going to love it.”

“Especially the little ones.” Neva stood just off the front window, studying the display with a critical eye. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh, you Beachy Amish,” Ina said teasingly. “Always pushing the limit of what’s acceptable.”

Neva took the gibe in stride. The Beachy Amish are a progressive group that allows its members to drive cars and the limited use of technology like phones and computers. Some of the Old Order don’t even consider them Amish. But Neva never felt lesser in any way, especially when it came to her friends.

“Car comes in handy when it’s ten below or raining,” Neva said breezily.

“I’ll second that.” Viola cleared her throat. “Car aside, if it’s all the same to you two, I’d like to finish sometime before midnight.” Brushing the spray-can cobwebs from her dress, she stepped out of the window display. “Let’s see how all of this looks from the outside.”

Exchanging grins, the girls headed toward the door. The evening was crisp and breezy. Neva smelled burning leaves and she knew the English boys down the road had spent the afternoon raking Mr. Groves’s yard.

“It’s the best we’ve ever done,” Viola said.

“Better than any of the other shops.” Ina rubbed her chin. “What if we add some of those little lights?”

“Too cheerful,” Neva replied. “We want this to be scary.”

“As long as we don’t frighten the little ones,” Viola said.

“Little pansies need not apply,” Neva said, and the three of them broke into laughter.

Ina sighed. “I can’t wait for your mamm to see it.”

“We still have to do the pumpkin display,” Viola pointed out.