An Amish Honor Page 9

  This was not the God that he had read about in his Bible. The God he had read about—Jesus—came to seek and to save that which was lost. The God he learned about died for the whole world. For God so loved the world… The God he knew about was not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.

  Jah, he was quite certain that these narrowly inclusive groups had it wrong. Hadn’t Robert read that Der Herr wanted all men to be saved, not just a select few? Jesus died for every person. It was up to each individual to decide whether they wanted to accept his free gift of eternal life or whether they wanted to try to get into Heaven on their own merits.

  God, what am I doing here?

  So much for doing great things for God, as Robert had supposed he would. What good could come of being locked in a prison? Not much, that he could imagine.

  The only thing he could think of is that he must have somehow failed God. But how? What did he do to deserve this?

  ~

  Joseph felt like he’d been walking around in a haze for the past week. He still couldn’t get the look on Azalea’s face out of his mind. Disappointment. Shock. Mortification. So many emotions had surfaced, he couldn’t even identify all of them. He had no doubt that she’d now lost all confidence in him. If he’d ever hoped to have a future with her, he could probably forget about it now. Those dreams may as well be buried along with the trash heap he’d crawled out of three and a half years ago.

  His prison cell opened and two officers walked in. They slapped a pair of handcuffs on him and fastened his feet in a restraint as well. What was going on?

  “Your court date is today. You’ll meet with an attorney first, then you’ll stand before the judge.”

  He swallowed. He’d never pictured himself in court. Really had no idea how any of this process worked.

  They led him out to a van and helped him inside, then shut the door. The two officers that had escorted him out went back from where they’d come from. Another officer—a different one—sat at the steering wheel and manned the vehicle, while yet another one sat beside him, gun at the ready.

  He hated this feeling of being a criminal when he’d done nothing he knew of that could be considered a crime. What had happened?

  When they arrived at an impressive stately building that he guessed was the courthouse, he was immediately ushered into a room with a large desk and a couple of chairs. Joseph was directed to take a seat. One of the officers stayed in the room with him. His eyes roamed the room and he took in its features, doing his best to distract himself from reality. From asking all the questions he had no answers to.

  A man in a suit walked in and shook his hand. “My name’s Mr. Meyers and I’ll be representing you in court today. I’ll need you to tell me what happened between you and Mrs. Brandenburg.”

  Joseph swallowed. “I had been working in her home and she asked me to put up a ceiling fan in one of the rooms. When I went in, she closed the door behind me.”

  “Was she in the room too?”

  “Jah. I didn’t know she was in there at first. I think she must’ve been behind the door because I hadn’t seen her until I walked in and she closed the door.”

  “Go on.”

  “When I turned around, she was wearing a not-so-gut dress.”

  “What do you mean by ‘not so good’?”

  “I could…uh…see through it.” He swallowed, not wanting to remember the regretful image now permanently stamped in his mind.

  “Okay. What happened next?”

  “She said something like, ‘Do you like what you see? It could be yours.’” He blew out a breath.

  Mr. Meyers nodded.

  “And then I said that I couldn’t do what she was asking. That it would displease the Lord and her husband.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I ran out of the room, out of the house. I told myself that I’d never go back to work there again.”

  “Anything else you’d like to add?”

  He closed his eyes, willing this nightmare to go away. “No. I don’t think so.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Joseph briefly lifted his eyes and searched the occupants of the courtroom to see if Azalea had come to his hearing. He wasn’t sure whether he’d wanted her to be here or not. Apparently, she hadn’t showed up yet. It was probably for the best anyhow.

  He didn’t even want to look at the woman who sat on the seat next to the judge’s bench. How could she make up these lies about him? Did she not have a conscience? Did she not care how this made him appear in the eyes of everyone around? His friends? His co-workers? His loved ones? Did she have no regard for how her words defamed his character?

  He longed to run out of this courtroom, away from all those who looked upon him as though he’d actually done the terrible thing he was being accused of.

  All his life, he’d tried to be an honest, upright man—the person he thought God wanted him to be. No, he wasn’t perfect but he sincerely tried to keep a clean slate. As far as he knew, he’d done nothing wrong. Nothing for his brothers to have wanted to kill him. Nothing for this woman to accuse him of.

  He wouldn’t blame God. No, he trusted Him. But he couldn’t help but question why these things were happening to him. How was this going to bring glory to God? What did God have planned?

  “Is this your shirt?” Mrs. Brandenburg’s lawyer asked Joseph, pulling him out of his reverie.

  Joseph frowned. He’d forgotten all about his shirt. “Yes.”

  His lawyer looked at him and frowned. He whispered in his ear, “You didn’t say anything about a shirt.”

  “I forgot about it,” he whispered back and shrugged. When he’d bolted out of the Brandenburgs’ home, the last thing on his mind was his forgotten flannel.

  “Mrs. Brandenburg. Can you tell us about this shirt?” Her lawyer asked in front of all the people.

  “Yes.” She looked directly at the judge. “Your honor, I was in my room when Mr. Millerton came in. He looked at me in a very sensual way and said that I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He removed his shirt and threw it onto my bed. He said that we could lock the door and do something while my husband was away. I refused and told him that I was a married woman. That’s when he reached for my blouse and pulled the buttons loose. It ripped when I tried to pull away from him. I began screaming and that’s when he ran out of the house.” She broke down in tears and buried her face in her arms.

  What? That’s not what happened at all!

  “That’s not true!” Joseph stood up and desperately looked to the judge—the jury—anyone who would hear him. But everyone seemed to ignore him.

  “That is enough.” The judge said to the witness on the stand. “You may take your seat, Mrs. Brandenburg.”

  “None of it is true!” Joseph insisted.

  “There will be silence in this courtroom!” The judge pounded the gavel and frowned at Joseph. “You have already given your testimony, Mr. Millerton. Sit down or I will have the bailiff haul you out.”

  Mr. Meyers reached for Joseph’s arm then shook his head. “Don’t talk. You’re not helping.”

  Joseph sighed and sat down.

  Mrs. Brandenburg’s lawyer spoke again. “I’d like to call Miguel Montoya to the stand.”

  A short Hispanic man now sat in the witness stand next to the judge’s bench. Joseph recognized him as one of Mrs. Brandenburg’s employees.

  “Please state your name and how you know Mrs. Brandenburg.”

  “I work for Mr. and Mrs. Brandburg for five year.” He said in broken English. “I work in garden.”

  “Will you tell us what you saw on the afternoon of October seventeenth?”

  “Yes. I working in garden. Prepare bush for cold. I hear scream. Jonah come running out of house. Then Ms. Brandburg come too. She cry and hold her shirt together.”

  “And was her shirt torn?”

  “Yes. It had tear in middle. She also hold Mr. Jonah’s shirt in other hand. Said he
try hurt her.”

  The lawyer held up the blouse in question. “Is this the shirt Mrs. Brandenburg was wearing?”

  “It look same, yes.”

  Her lawyer frowned. “Did Mrs. Brandenburg appear upset?”

  “Yes. She cry. She very sad.”

  “Mr. Montoya, you said you have been working for Mrs. Brandenburg for five years, correct?”

  “Si. Jes.”

  “Has anything like this ever happened in the past? Has, as Mr. Millerton claims, Mrs. Brandenburg ever tried to seduce any other workers? That you know of?”

  “No.”

  The attorney looked pointedly at the jury then to the judge. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

  The judge looked to Joseph’s lawyer. “Would you like to cross examine Mr. Montoya?”

  “If I may, Your Honor.” Mr. Meyers stood up and approached Mr. Montoya. “Mr. Montoya, how long would you say it was between the time Mr. Millerton ran out of the house and the time Mrs. Brandenburg screamed?”

  “Not too long. Maybe ten second.”

  “And how long after the time Mr. Millerton came running out of the house would you say that Mrs. Brandenburg ran out?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe one and half, two minute.”

  “And would you say that was ample time for Mrs. Brandenburg to have changed her clothing?”

  “Objection, Your Honor!” Mrs. Brandenburg’s lawyer called. “Speculation.”

  “Your Honor, I’m simply trying to establish that there was indeed ample time for the plaintiff to have changed her clothing.” Mr. Meyers reasoned. “It’s completely relevant.”

  “Objection overruled.” The judge said, then looked at Mr. Montoya. “You may answer the question.”

  “I think there may be enough time to change, but I not there.” He shrugged with his palms up.

  “Thank you. I have no further questions, Your Honor.” Mr. Meyers sat back down next to Joseph.

  Joseph held his breath. This was not looking good for him. But since he and Mrs. Brandenburg were the only two people present at said event, they were the only ones who knew the truth.

  And God, He knew the truth. Please God, please get me out of this mess, Joseph silently prayed.

  ~

  A half hour later, Joseph sat in stunned silence as the judge read the verdict.

  “The jury finds the defendant guilty of attempted sexual assault.” The judge and jury had believed everything the woman said, even though it was all lies.

  He could hardly believe that someone could be so convincing. He’d even almost felt guilty as she sat there and told her sob story. The tears flowed so naturally as though he’d actually done the things she’d accused him of.

  He’d known before they’d even read the sentence what it would be. He could tell by the way the jury acted as Mrs. Brandenburg told her story full of deceit.

  How could someone just make these things up and send an innocent person to prison? Why would anyone do that? He hadn’t done anything to her. He’d only refused her advances. He’d stood for what was good and right. Actually tried to protect not only his own reputation but hers as well.

  Why, God? Why didn’t You fight for me? You know I’m innocent!

  And then it hit him.

  Hadn’t the same thing happened to the Lord? Jesus had been put on trial. Been accused of things He hadn’t done. Then He was sentenced—not only to scourging, but to death as well. And what had He done when all these things were taking place? He hadn’t defended Himself. He’d remained silent. His closest friends abandoned him—betrayed Him, even. And when the worst of His fears came true, He not only willing gave up His life—He also forgave those who caused His death.

  Shame descended on Joseph like the storm clouds now gathering outside. His predicament wasn’t anywhere near as dire as the Saviour’s had been. He bowed his head in humility. Lord, I’m sorry. Please forgive me of my faults and help me to be more like You. Help me to keep my eyes fixed on and to trust You.

  He knew it’d be nearly impossible to do. But he would try. And when he was accused, he hoped that he could keep silent as the Lord had. He didn’t need to defend himself. God knew the truth.

  ~

  Joseph couldn’t help but admit that he’d felt somewhat forsaken, though, as the van traveled back to the prison. What was God’s plan in all this? And why hadn’t God spared him the humiliation? He did his best to trust, but he couldn’t help but ask these questions.

  My grace is sufficient for thee. And just like that, the verse came to him. As though God Himself were right there with him. And He was, Joseph realized.

  I know, Lord. I’m trying.

  His sentence had been a minimum of two years. Not terribly long, but still unjust considering it was for a crime he hadn’t committed.

  How much would his life change in two years? How much would Azalea change? Would Dat still be alive even? Was he alive now? Was he praying for him now? Joseph sure hoped so. Because he needed prayer now more than ever.

  Please strengthen my faith, Lord.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Joseph wiped his sweaty palms on his orange prison pants, courtesy of the Indiana State of Corrections. He was looking forward to this visit, and not looking forward to it at the same time. He wondered if adding Azalea to his list of approved visitors would prove to be a mistake. How would their visit go?

  She hadn’t been in the courtroom when he’d been arraigned. He didn’t know why but he guessed that somehow her father must’ve found out and most likely forbid her to go. It was probably for the best anyway. He hadn’t wanted Azalea to hear about the things he’d been accused of. Although he was certain that she had probably found out by now.

  But Azalea knew him. She knew he wouldn’t do something like what he’d been accused of. Didn’t she?

  He now stared at her through the thick glass barrier as she sat down across from him. She was so beautiful. How did God ever see fit to let the two of them find one another? Perhaps it had been too good to be true.

  Azalea seemed fidgety now. She put her arms on the small countertop in front of her then put them down at her sides. Was she scared to be here? It was most likely her first time behind the walls of a correctional facility.

  She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  “So, is it true?” Her voice trembled as she spoke the barely-audible words.

  No ‘hello.’ No ‘how are you doing?’

  Joseph stared at Azalea and noticed the tears in her eyes. She thought he was guilty too? If there was anyone whom he’d thought he could count on, anyone who wouldn’t just assume, surely it was her. A knife cut through his chest. Because if she didn’t believe in his innocence, no one would.

  “What do you think?” He couldn’t hold his sharp tone. Couldn’t she at least give him the benefit of the doubt?

  “I…I don’t know.” A tear escaped her eyelashes and traveled down her cheek. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  “But you do.” He said flatly. “You’re just like everybody else. I thought you knew me, Azalea.” Disillusionment ripped through his heart. Why had he expected her to be any different?

  “I thought I did too…”

  “You know what? Believe whatever you want. That’s what matters, right? Who cares what the truth is. I’m in prison so I must be guilty.”

  “What do you want me to say, Jonah? You’ve been convicted of attempted rape. The judge and jury heard the testimonies and considered the evidence. A conviction usually means that a person is guilty of what they’ve been accused of. How am I supposed to deal with that? What do you expect me to believe? That the charges, the evidence, the testimonies are all false?”

  He shrugged. He was so disappointed in her he couldn’t even find the words to say.

  “I can’t believe…and with Mrs. Brandenburg?” She shook her head as a tear trailed her cheek. “Why were you alone with her in the first place? What were you doing in her bedroom? And you were obviously there.�
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  “I was working, Azalea! But what does it matter anyway? She’s the one with the money and she’s sought to destroy my life.” He scoffed. “All anyone needs in this world is a little bit of money, right? You can get the judge to give whatever verdict you wish because you throw some money at him.” He shook his head. “You’re rich. You should know…”

  “That’s not true.”

  He ignored her words. “But what do I know? I’m just the poor, uneducated idiot.” He turned away.

  “No, you’re not.”

  The sooner they parted ways, the better for both their sakes. Even if she did believe he was innocent, which she didn’t, who knows what else Mrs. Brandenburg might come up with and how many years he’d be in prison? And what good would he be to Azalea then? It’s not like her father would ever approve of their relationship now anyway. “I’m surprised your father let you come here.”

  “He didn’t. He doesn’t know I’m here. He wants me to stay away from you.”

  “Then why are you here?” He couldn’t help his sharp tone.

  He heard her gasp. “I thought… You know what, Jonah? I have no idea. Goodbye!” She stood and wiped her eyes, shaking her head in the process.

  “Don’t come back.”

  She began walking away, then stopped and spun around. He saw the tears, which were now many, flowing from her eyes. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I won’t. Ever.” She took off at a brisk pace, wiping her cheeks as she went.

  Joseph dropped his head in his hands the moment she was out of sight, emotion filling him. God, I didn’t want it to end that way. I’m sorry. I failed You once again.

  Why is this happening? I feel so helpless. These circumstances are beyond my control. I’m frustrated that I can’t do or say anything to defend myself. Why am I here, God?