Amish-made furniture was always in demand and Samuel was one of the most skilled carvers in the area. It was his God-given gift, and he put it to good use. Up until now, he’d only sold his work locally from the family’s gift shop. But their Amish community of Bowmans Crossing was off the beaten path. Few tourists ventured into the area. Samuel knew he needed to reach a bigger market if the family operation was going to expand. With five sons and only enough farmland to support one family, the woodworking business needed to grow, and quickly, or his brothers would have to look elsewhere for work.
Samuel checked over every inch of the machine and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. He glanced across the shop and spied the second of his four younger brothers stacking fresh lumber by the back door. “Luke, did you put gas in the generator this morning?”
“I told Noah to do it.”
“And did he?”
Luke shrugged. “How should I know?”
Samuel shook his head in disgust. “Why do I have to do everything myself?”
Luke tossed the last board onto the stack and slowly dusted his hands together. “Want me to go check?”
“Never mind, I don’t have all day.” Luke’s lackadaisical offer rubbed Samuel the wrong way. Again. He loved all his brothers, but none of them had the drive that was needed to make the family business a success. Luke and Timothy would rather go out with friends than work late in the shop. Noah had his head in the clouds over a new horse. Joshua had up and married at girl from Hope Springs leaving them short a farmhand. Samuel had no time for such foolishness.
Luke hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “When is Father going to replace that ancient piece of junk? We need one of those new diesel generators to power this place. The bishop has already said we could use it in our business.”
“Our engine may be ancient, but it will last one more year and then maybe we can afford a better one. Provided you stay out of trouble. You know why father doesn’t have the money to buy a new one.”
Luke took a step forward, his face set in hard lines. “Because of me, is that what you’re saying? He didn’t have to pay for a lawyer. I had a public defender.”
“That would have been okay if you hadn’t pulled Joshua into trouble with you.”
Luke flushed a dull red. “No matter how many times I say I’m sorry, it will never be enough for you, will it?” He turned away and stormed out of the building.
Samuel regretted his jab at Luke, but his brother’s attitude irked him. It always had. He knew Luke was trying to make up for his poor choices in the past when he’d rebelled against his strict Amish upbringing and left home for the big city. He’d fallen in with bad company and ended up using and selling drugs. When their brother Joshua went to try and talk sense into him, they were both arrested and jailed. It had been a difficult time for the entire family.
Even so, it was wrong of Samuel to throw Luke’s failures in his face. What was forgiven should not be mentioned again. He would find Luke and apologize later. Now he needed to get the table leg turned. He could only put out one fire at a time.
He grabbed the tool chest from the bench beside the back door in case a lack of gasoline wasn’t the issue. If the generator required more than a simple fix, he wouldn’t be able to finish on time, and this opportunity would pass him by.
The engine was housed in a small shed at the back of the woodworking shop. The pungent smell of exhaust filled the small room. As Samuel suspected, the fuel gauge needle sat on empty. He should have filled it himself instead of depending on someone else.
The red gas can was sitting on the floor beside the generator. He picked it up. The light weight and faint slosh revealed it was less than half-full. It would take precious time to go get more. He decided against it. Half a can would be enough to finish the job.
He opened the generator’s gas cap and began pouring in the fuel. Strong fumes hit him in the face. Maybe he should’ve waited until the old machine cooled down a little more.
It was his last thought before a blinding flash sent him flying backward into oblivion.
* * *
“Did you hear what happened at the Bowman place?”
“I haven’t. Something serious?” Rebecca Miller glanced from the cake she was slicing to her mother, Ina Fisher. Ina was putting away the goods she had picked up at the local market on her way to Rebecca’s house. Mamm was always eager to share what news she gathered along the way when she came to visit. The Bowman family lived several miles away across the river. Rebecca seldom saw them except at church functions.
“Well, I stopped at the Bowman gift shop after I left the market this morning. I wanted some of Anna’s gooseberry preserves. You know how much I like them.”
“I do.” Her mother’s plump figure was proof that she enjoyed her sweets.
“Anyway, Verna Yoder was at the counter.”
“I didn’t know she worked there.” Verna was her mother’s dear friend and one of the biggest gossips in the county. The woman somehow knew everything about everybody. She and Rebecca’s mother were birds of a feather.
“Verna doesn’t actually work there. She was helping Anna for a few minutes. She told me everything. A few days ago, Samuel was putting gas in their generator for the wood shop and it exploded. His face and hands were badly burned. They aren’t sure if he’ll see again.”
“Oh, no.” Rebecca pressed a hand to her heart and uttered a silent prayer for the young man from her Amish community and for his family.
“As if that wasn’t enough, the building caught fire and a large part of their work was destroyed. They have seen many trials and tribulations in that family.”
“Will he be badly scarred?” Rebecca asked, thinking of Samuel’s rare smiles. He wasn’t known for his sense of humor. That would be Noah, the youngest, who was the family clown. Samuel was always a serious fellow, one who seemed to study others rather than try to entertain them. She always thought his dark brown eyes looked more deeply into things than most other men.
To be blinded. How terrible for him.
“Verna only said that his face and hands are heavily bandaged. Time will tell if he is scarred. It is all in God’s hands. I know his family is grateful his life was spared.”
“As am I. I will pray for his healing.” Rebecca didn’t know Samuel well. He hadn’t been among her husband’s close friends, but he had made her husband’s coffin in his wood shop.
She could still smell the pungent odor of the red cedar panels he chose instead of the simple white pine that was used for most Amish coffins. Walter had always loved the smell of cedar. She didn’t know how Samuel knew that, but she had been grateful for the special touch even though her mother reported that some people in the church thought it was too fancy for an Amish casket.
“Verna has no idea how the family will manage. Anna is about to tear her hair out trying to run the gift shop and take care of Samuel, too. Apparently, he’s a cranky patient. Harvest is coming on, and her men will soon be in the fields and won’t be able to give her the help she needs. Of course, Verna heard that she sent Gemma Yoder away in tears when she tried to help.”
“I wonder why?”
“That Gemma has had her sights set on Samuel for ages, but I can’t see her being much help in the sickroom. The girl cries at the drop of a hat.”
“What is the church doing to help?” Rebecca knew their community would rally around the Bowman