The Postcard Read Online Free PDF Page B

someone to look after you and little Annie for a while,” she insisted, kissing Rachel’s forehead and holding her hand. “Levi and I will be more than happy to stay till you’re back on your feet.”
    “I’m so glad you’re here.”
    “I came to help, to bear your sorrow,” Esther pledged. “Levi and I can stay as long as need be.” She explained that their children were with close Amish friends in Holmes County.
    “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Rachel said, her voice breaking. “Didja know that I must’ve written you a letter the night before the accident? But I don’t remember writing it now. Mamma found it in my apron pocket.” She motioned to the small closet. “It’s in there somewhere,” she said before giving way to a fresh spasm of grief.
    Esther hugged her cousin. “Shh. I’m here now. We’ll get through this, jah?”
    When Rachel was able to compose herself, Esther sat on the edge of the hospital bed, their hands clasped. They talked quietly of Annie and how glad they were that the child had been spared, along with Rachel. “The Lord surely kept the two of you alive for a special reason,” Esther said, her eyes still wet with tears.
    Rachel didn’t quite know what to think of that—being kept alive for a special purpose. God’s sovereign will was not to be questioned, of course. Yet it was difficult to hear Esther go on so, especially when Rachel sincerely wished the Lord had taken her home to Glory, too.
    Why had God let her live?
    Mamma and Esther moved quietly to the window, encouraging Rachel to rest a bit. She heard the lull of their discreet whispering—Jacob’s or Aaron’s name slipping into the air every so often—but, honestly, she did not care to know what was being discussed. Funeral plans, most likely.
    With the thought of such a thing—a funeral for her dear ones—horrifying mental pictures flashed before her eyes: the car roaring into the wagon, Jacob’s body broken beyond recognition. She shook her head as if to shake off the visions, shutting her eyes tightly against the persistent images. “No!” she cried out.
    Mam and Esther turned their heads. “What’s that, dear?” Mam called to her. And Esther rushed to Rachel’s bedside again.
    She breathed heavily as the painful memories slowly receded. Then suddenly a new insidious notion sprang at Rachel—that the accident had been her fault. Hers . Taking a deep breath, she blurted, “I never heard the alarm! We slept through. If we hadn’t overslept—if I’d heard the alarm clock like always—we’d never, never have taken the shortcut. We wouldn’t have been at the Crossroad, and Jacob and Aaron would be alive today.”
    “Mustn’t trouble yourself,” Esther was saying, stroking Rachel’s arm. “Mustn’t go blamin’ yourself.”
    But Rachel felt she had to express herself while this one memory was still alive in her. “We were rushing to market . . . requiring the horse to gallop. Oh, Esther . . .”
    “The accident wasn’t your fault,” her cousin repeated. “Believe me, it wasn’t.”
    Mam was on the other side of the bed now, leaning over to reach for Rachel’s free hand. “The horse became frightened and leaped into traffic, is all.”
    “I . . . I don’t remember any of that,” she confessed as she wept. “How do you know this?”
    “There were witnesses,” replied Mam. “People saw what happened and told the police.”
    This was the first she’d heard any talk of police and witnesses. Why, the whole thing sounded like some made-up story.
    Esther continued to hover near. “You mustn’t dwell on what was , Rachel. Think on the Lord . . . how He watched over you and Annie,” she said, her eyes filled with concern and love. “We will trust the Lord for His continued watch over you. And all of us will pitch in and help, too.”
    “Jah,” she said, feeling calmer, knowing that what Esther said was precisely true. Still, she felt she was going through the motions,