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A Secret Sacrifice (Amish Secrets--Book 5) Page 11
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“Most likely, but it looks like they’ve moved on for now. I hear the Humvee coming.” Jones crawled toward him. “Your leg looks like it’s bleeding. Did you get hit?”
Zachariah looked down. Sure enough, there was a flow of crimson soaking the canvas pant leg at his ankle.
Jones cursed under his breath. “Quick, let’s bind that up so you don’t bleed to death.”
To death? He certainly wasn’t ready to die, not with the rift between him and the church.
“I’m fine. I didn’t even feel anything.” Of course, after surviving a tractor accident, most pain never fazed him. He was no pansy.
“Nevertheless, it’s our job to look out for each other.” Jones pushed Zach’s pant leg up and winced. He pulled out a bandana from his pants pocket and wrapped it around his ankle tightly. “It looks pretty bad. One of the medics will have to treat it when we get back to the barracks. I don’t have the proper supplies.”
That was his fault. If they had stayed with the other troops, none of this would have happened and they’d possess whatever supplies they needed. “Sorry, man.”
“No time for apologies. Here comes Peters. Let’s go.” Jones looked back at him. “Here, put your arm around me. I don’t think you can walk on that.”
Zach stood up and attempted to put pressure on his wounded leg. Excruciating pain shot through his entire body and he thought he might pass out. He breathed heavily and quickly grasped on to Jones. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thanks.” He forced the words through gritted teeth.
Jones nodded with a frown. “You gonna be okay?”
“I think so.” A relieved sigh escaped Zach’s lips as the convoy finally approached, but he didn’t eagerly anticipate the tongue lashing he was sure to receive from his superior. It wouldn’t be any worse than the bishop’s rebuke, would it?
Even so, he couldn’t wait to get back home.
Jones' hand smacked his cheek, yanking him back to the present. “Don't you be falling asleep on me, Farm Boy. You can take your nap in the truck. Just a little further.”
An explosion launched both men into the air. Zachariah’s vision fuzzed, from the shock or the dust in his eyes, he wasn't sure. Return fire sounded from a few feet away, most likely their gunners. He spotted Jones lying face down beside him. “Jones?” he managed, coughing at the dirt clinging to his tongue.
Peters rushed to him. “Farm Boy! Can you walk?”
“Jones. Check Jones.”
Peters rolled Zach's partner over then turned back to Zach, his face grim. “There's nothing we can do for him.”
“Jones!”
“Come on, Farm Boy. You're first.” Peters gripped his arm and yanked him up. Zach screamed at the pressure on his wounded leg, torn open again from the recent blast, while Peters hustled him to the vehicle. “Get him in,” he commanded the soldiers, who hauled him up into the back of the medic's truck.
Jones' still body landed next to him a few moments later. Zach clenched a handful of his comrade's uniform and pulled him closer, trying to see his face. Sobs choked him when he took in Jones' injuries. His face and chest were torn open, revealing gaping flesh. The right side of his face was mostly missing, leaving an unrecognizable mess of blood.
Jones died saving my life. This is my fault.
Unable to look into the face of his friend again, Zach rested his head on Jones' limp arm and cried. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”
Zach pressed his hands over his mouth to stop his screams from erupting. Silent tears coursed down his cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Jones. I'm so sorry.”
Leaning his forehead on his drawn-up knees, he whispered those words over and over again, praying that someday he might be able to redeem his mistakes.
<><><>
“What do you do for a living, John?”
John stared out the window. Had he not even heard her uncle’s question? Rosanna nudged her husband.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” John shook his head.
“He asked about your job.” Frustrated couldn’t begin to describe how Rosanna felt. Here they were, at her relatives’ place in Southern Ohio, on their honeymoon, and all he could think about was Zachariah Zook. This was supposed to be a time of bonding, but instead, it was driving a wedge further between them. She’d thought that if she just got John away from Kentucky, she’d have him all to herself. But, no. Zachariah was present wherever they went.
“Do you have a phone shanty?” John asked.
“Just down the road past the neighbor’s house on the right.” Her uncle pointed.
“Thank you.” John pushed his chair back and headed in that direction. “I’ll be back.”
Rosanna’s jaw dropped. She pushed her chair back too and followed after her husband. Once they were outside, she stopped him.
“John, please.” She couldn’t stop the tears that surfaced. “We haven’t even been married a week and I already feel like I’m losing you.”
He turned to her. “You’re not. I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You may be here in body, but your mind is with Zachariah.”
“I’m concerned about him, Rosie. Surely you can understand that.” He leaned close and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Rosanna Christner.”
“I wish you loved me more than Zach.”
“That’s ridiculous, Rosie. I didn’t marry Zach, I married you.” He tilted her chin toward him.
“It doesn’t seem that way.”
John’s eyes met hers. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Rosanna, do you believe the words of Jesus?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I believe in living them. How else can we show love to one another? If I won’t be Zach’s friend, then please tell me, who will?”
How is it that the thing she loved about John was also the thing she hated? His kindness was one of the things that made her fall in love with him. Was she being the cruel one?
“So, you’re willing to sacrifice me to take care of Zach? Is that it?”
“Rosie, listen to me. If we can help Zach, he will come back to us. Isn’t that what we want? Isn’t that the goal? How can loving someone and wanting what’s best for them be a sacrifice? Can’t we set aside our own needs for just a little bit? Think about it, Rosie. If Zach can get better, it will benefit the entire community. How happy would his folks be if he returned?
“What about the parables Jesus told? The lost coin. The lost sheep. We are supposed to go and look for the lost sheep just like the Good Shepherd would. We are not supposed to just leave him out there for the wolves to devour.” The sincerity in John’s voice touched her heart.
Rosanna sighed. Perhaps she was the one being selfish. But was it really too much to desire her husband’s attention? She realized that there was only one thing that could change their situation, and that was prayer. She would pray for hers and John’s marriage to not only succeed, but to thrive.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Zachariah had begun drinking again, and as a result, John and Rosanna returned from their honeymoon earlier than expected. They’d been blessed to receive nice gifts and Rosanna was happy that their families had shown much generosity toward them.
Upon finding out about Zach’s departure and his drinking, John had been devastated. He blamed himself for being gone. Perhaps they should have postponed their trip like John had suggested in the first place, but how was Rosanna supposed to foresee the turn of events?
John apologized and rushed off as soon as they’d returned.
<><><>
“Thanks, Ernie. I'll call you if I need a ride home later.” John waved as the Englisch driver drove away.
He was visiting Zach again. He'd heard that his friend had taken to drinking again when he learned that another friend died in combat. Tommy had been the one to offer Zach a place to stay, so losing him must've really hit home. John knew he had a lot of work to do to pull Zach out of the
pit he'd fallen into, but he was determined to do it, for good this time. It was his duty.
A middle-aged woman stepped out of the main house before he reached the door to Zach's apartment. “Excuse me? John, is it?”
“Yes, ma'am. It is. I'm a friend of Zach's.”
“I'm Betty Brooks, his landlady. I was hoping we could talk for a moment.”
“Of course.”
“I've noticed that you've visited Zach several times and I'm assuming you are trying to help him recover from the war.”
John nodded. “I am.”
Mrs. Brooks smiled. “Good. I'm very glad he has a friend willing to help him. I've invited Zach to attend church with my husband and I. I'm sure it would help him. Our church provides a Reformers Unanimous program, which is designed to help people overcome their addictions.”
Hope stirred within John. “I've been praying I could find something like that. What is the name of your church?”
“It's Crossroads Baptist. Just down the road a few miles. The RU meetings are at seven o'clock on Friday nights. I'm sure it would help him if he were to go.”
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Brooks. And I will pray for the Lord to help you cope with the loss of Tommy.”
Tears gleamed in her eyes. “Thank you, John. You are a very kind young man. God bless you.” The woman made her way back to the house.
John paused before opening Zach's door. Lord, give me courage and perseverance. Help me bring Zach back to us. Heal his heart and soul. And please forgive me for my part.
<><><>
“As a leader and as one who cares for you, I advise you to steer clear of Zachariah Zook. He has left the ways of our people. Surely he is spreading a net out for your feet. Don’t get entangled with him. It will only lead to heartache.”
John stared at Deacon Miller. “I don’t intend to leave, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“John, there have been many who have left who never intended to. That is how the devil works. He traps you until you have no way out. Most don’t realize it until it’s too late.”
“Do you not think that Christ would try to help Zachariah?”
“Aye, but you are not Christ. You do not possess the fortitude to withstand the wiles of the devil.”
“I’m glad to hear of your confidence in me.”
“My confidence rests in Christ alone.”
“As does mine.”
“John, Bishop Hershberger asked me to speak with you on this matter. Surely, you would not wish to go against his…recommendations.” His brow shot up at the implication the statement held. If he continued to associate with Zach, they would possibly put him under the Bann as well.
<><><>
“I’ll be back in a while.” John’s eyes met hers as he lifted his hat from the wall rack.
He already knew how she felt about this, so why was he still going? “But, John. You can’t keep spending time with Zach. He’s shunned.”
“He’s my friend, Rosanna. My best friend, in fact. He needs me. He needs my help now more than ever.”
“The leaders are going to put you in the Bann if you continue to spend time with him. I don’t want you to be shunned. You know how difficult that will make our lives.” Could he hear the desperation in her voice?
“I can’t help it, Rosie. I need to be there for him. You don’t know what he’s been through.”
“But it’s his own fault!”
John held up a hand to silence her, and Rosanna sensed a frustration in him that she’d never seen before. “Don’t say that. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. He fought for this country. Our country. He fought to preserve our rights. Even if you don’t agree with it, I won’t have you blaming Zach. He did something more honorable than most people will ever do in their lifetime. He deserves respect.”
“I don’t understand how taking up a gun and shooting someone down is honorable,” Rosanna reasoned.
“Just stop. Please.” He stepped forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you, Rosie. You may not understand now, but I pray that someday you might. I have to go.”
Animosity toward Zach grew in Rosanna’s heart now more than ever. It wasn’t enough that he had to leave the community and shame his family by joining the military, now he was destroying her and John’s chance at a happy life. A tear slid down Rosanna’s cheek as the back door slammed shut.
<><><>
“So, Rosie, how have you and John been?” Margaret asked.
Rosanna glanced up from her stitching to meet her sister's gaze. She attempted to dispel the memories of their last fight from her mind. “Fine. Fine. Why do you ask?”
“Well...” her sister hesitated. “Seth mentioned that he saw him in town with Zachariah Zook a few days ago.”
Rosanna blew out a breath and nodded.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“I thought Deacon Miller warned him not to be around Zach,” Frances entered the conversation from her side of the quilt.
Rosanna pretended to study her work, avoiding her mother and sisters' inquisitive gazes. “He did.”
“Rosanna, if John is not adhering to the minister's instruction...” Her mother said gently.
“I know, Mamm. I know. I've spoken with him about it, but he insists he is doing what is right. He won't give up on Zach.” She stabbed her needle into the quilt square, battling her anger – and her tears.
“Even if it costs him his family? His standing in the community? If he refuses to obey the leaders, he will be disciplined. This is very serious. You must convince him to stop his foolishness.”
Frustration with John mounted. “I've tried, Mamm. I am trying. He's not listening. He is so determined that he is right. I just- I don't know what to do.” She continued to watch her hands, which had ceased sewing and now lay useless.
Her mother's hand covered hers. “You will always have a home with us, Rosanna. If John continues to ignore the rules, he will be put under the Bann. If such a thing were to happen, your father and I will take you in. Don't ever doubt it.”
“I won't, Mamm.” Feeling the tears spill from her eyes, Rosanna stood. “I have to go.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rosanna grinned in excitement as John's buggy pulled up beside the barn. He would come inside, greet her with a kiss, and then wash up for supper. Then after supper, and after the dishes were finished, they would both retire to the living room, where she would deliver her special news – if she could manage to wait that long.
She prayed this revelation would bring them closer together. The tension between them concerning Zach seemed to be straining their relationship, but hopefully that would all change now.
John's stomping footsteps could be heard from the back door as he entered the dawdi haus. He graced her with a warm smile. “How is my Rosie? Do you feel better this morning?”
She nodded. “I feel wunderbaar.” Rosanna pressed her hands to his chest as she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him, knowing how he loved it when she initiated the kiss.
“And so do I,” John replied once their lips separated. “Especially now.”
A grin crept up her mouth and she tapped his chest before stepping back. “Supper will be ready in a moment.”
“I'll go wash up.”
As John headed for the sink, she returned to the stove and transferred the food to the table. After quickly setting the table, they both bowed their heads in silent prayer. Please be with the baby and protect it. And please heal the distance between John and I. John cleared his throat to signal the end of the prayer and they both lifted their heads.
“How is the house coming along?” Rosanna asked.
“Good. I pray we'll be living in it by December.” They shared a smile. There was something intimate about soon having a house they owned all to themselves.
“The sooner the better.”
Rosanna dished out the chicken pot pie she'd made onto their plates so they could begin eating.
> “Elam Zook visited me today.”
She glanced up in question, unsure of who that was.
“He's Zach's older cousin. He was at our wedding.”
She nodded and a knot began forming in her stomach, as it always did when he brought up Zach.
“He said he wants to help me with Zach. He saw what happened at our wedding and he would like to help bring Zach back. I can't tell you how happy I am that someone else is on my side.”
Rosanna glanced down at her food, the excitement in John's voice making her feel guilty. She knew she wasn't supporting him as a wife should, but how could she support him when she wasn't certain he was right?
John's hand covered hers. “I feel as though you're pulling away from me, Rosie. Please don't ever pull away from me.”
She met his sober gaze and shook her head. “I'm not. I just hoped we could share an evening without discussing Zach.”
“We can. And we will. I won't mention him any more today. I promise.” He pressed a hand to his heart and raised the other in the air. His eyes twinkled.
Rosanna fought a grin at his foolishness.
“Come on, Rosie. Laugh. I'm funny and you know it.” He wiggled his eyebrows and she giggled. “There it is. Have I ever told you I love to hear you laugh?” He caressed her cheek.
She leaned toward him. “I don't think so.”
“Well, I do,” he murmured, brushing her lips with a kiss.
The desire to share her news with John welled. She'd planned to wait until after supper, but now felt right.
“John,” she began, his name interrupting their kiss.
He pulled back to meet her gaze, his hand still pressed to her cheek. “Yes?”
“I have something I need to tell you.”
His brow furrowed at her serious tone. “What is it, Schatzi?”