The SILENCE of WINTER

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About the Author

Blessed are they that mourn:
for they shall be comforted.
M
ATTHEW
5:4

I
t was early yet, and Meredith Stoltzfus resisted coming out of the deep sleep she was in. Even though she was toasty warm under the covers, she couldn’t figure out why she felt as though something was different. It wasn’t the feeling of anticipation children get when they wake up on Christmas morning. It was an empty, lonely feeling.

As the cobwebs cleared, she realized it wasn’t just the emptiness she felt—it was the silence and the knowledge that she was alone. Her husband, Luke, had left for Indiana yesterday afternoon, and waking up by herself gave Meredith a really odd feeling. Luke hadn’t been gone twenty-four hours, and already she missed him terribly. Now she just needed to get through the rest of the days until he returned from his uncle’s place, where he’d gone to learn a new trade.

After all,
Meredith reminded herself,
I got through last night, and Luke will only be gone a few weeks. Now the countdown starts, and when each morning begins, it will be one day closer to Luke’s return. There’s plenty to do around here, so I just need to keep busy until the day he walks through our back door.

Meredith had always been active and very organized, and she knew these traits could be used to her advantage. It was time to fill any vulnerable moments by doing something constructive.

Rolling over onto her side and snuggling deeper under the covers, she was reminded that each morning since she’d married Luke fourteen months ago had started out the same.
If Luke was here right now, I’d be waking up with him by my side.

Just then, Fritz, Luke’s German shorthaired pointer who’d been sleeping on the floor beside the bed, snorted several times, sounding like he was snoring.

Meredith giggled, suddenly realizing what else was different this morning. She missed Luke’s snoring. The small simple sound seemed to start Meredith’s day out right. It was a gentle noise—not the deep rumbling her dad’s snoring had always been. Dad had mentioned once that even in his younger days, he’d snored really loud. He’d blamed it on his slightly crooked nose, which had been broken when he’d run into a tree while playing ball as a boy. He said he had trouble breathing out one side of his nose—especially when he was sleeping. Meredith figured that must be true, because when Dad fell asleep in his easy chair each evening after supper, his mouth hung slightly open. When Meredith still lived at home, she’d heard the rumbling snores coming from Mom and Dad’s bedroom almost every single night. Sometimes it had been so loud she’d had to cover her ears with two pillows in order to get to sleep.

Poor Mom,
Meredith thought.
I don’t know how she gets any sleep at all. But then, maybe Mom’s not bothered by Dad’s snoring. Could be she’s gotten used to it over the years.

Meredith glanced at the alarm clock on the table by her bed. Rarely did it have the chance to go off, because Luke’s snoring would start within minutes of when they were supposed to get up. It was amazing that Luke never snored during the night. If he did, it must be really quiet, because Meredith had never heard it, nor had it ever caused her to wake up until the morning hours.

Lying under the covers and continuing to enjoy her thoughts, she recollected how on most mornings it was hard not to laugh at the sounds Luke made. He sounded so content with each breath he took in and blew out, and she would just lie there quietly with her hand over her mouth and listen.

Luke didn’t seem to mind when Meredith playfully tickled his ear to gently wake him up. That was quite evident when those turquoise eyes opened slowly and looked tenderly into hers. He’d often said that a tickle on the ear was far better than any blaring alarm.

Meredith’s thoughts halted when Fritz, grunting loudly, woke himself up and rose to his feet. Then he plodded over to Meredith’s side of the bed, nudged her arm with his wet nose, and laid his head on the mattress, watching her intently with his big brown puppy-dog eyes. When he didn’t get a response, Fritz started whimpering.

“I know, I know,” she said, clutching Luke’s pillow tightly to her chest. “You need to go out, don’t you, pup?”

Woof! Woof!
The dog’s tail wagged at Meredith’s response.

Hearing the sound of sleet pelting the bedroom window, Meredith wished she could lie in bed a few minutes longer, hugging her husband’s pillow, but with Fritz needing to go outside, any more daydreaming was out of the question. Besides, she had an appointment with a midwife. It was time to get ready for what she hoped would be some really good news.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Alex Mitchell reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the gold pocket watch he’d taken from the Amish man he’d accosted in the Philadelphia bus station. It was just a few minutes past eight o’clock, he noted. He’d transferred to yet another bus thirty minutes ago, and as they headed out of the city, the bus, along with all the other traffic, was almost at a standstill. The bus he’d ridden on after leaving the station in Philly at 12:20 that morning had been a slow-go as the foggy mist had turned to black ice on the highway. Now the roads were so icy that no one could go anywhere without sliding all over the place. Motorists had no choice but to sit and wait for the salt trucks to come through in order to make travel somewhat safer.

Alex looked out the window and saw that all the other cars on the highway had pulled off to the side of the road, just as the bus had done. According to the bus schedule, they weren’t supposed to arrive in South Bend, Indiana, until 6:35 that evening, but with the weather being so bad, he figured it might be midnight or even later before they pulled into the station. Well, he didn’t care. He had food in his belly, a wallet full of money, and a ticket to freedom, courtesy of the Amish man, so he’d just sit back and try to relax until the bus took him to his destination. Even Alex’s nagging cough was a bit better now that he wore warm clothes and had the comfort of being on the bus.

Continuing to stare out at the nasty weather and listen to sleet hit the bus windows, Alex was glad to be in a place that was warm. Thinking back to the night before, Alex was surprised that his luck had held out and he hadn’t been caught—either by the drug dealers who’d been after him, or worse yet, the cops. He’d expected something to go wrong, because it usually did. But so far, nothing was out of the ordinary, and everything was going okay. The more distance Alex put between him and Philadelphia, the better he felt.

He looked down at the black felt hat in his lap and grinned. Luck had been with him once again, in that everything that had taken place at the bus station in Philly had happened late at night. Alex was sure that no one else had seen what had actually transpired between him and the young Amish man in the restroom. He felt pretty comfortable that the bus he’d boarded after the encounter had pulled out before anyone had discovered the unconscious man lying on the restroom floor where he’d left him. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for the bathroom in Philadelphia’s bus depot to be void of activity so late at night. He ought to know—he’d slept in that depot a time or two when he’d been down on his luck. He’d never gotten used to the achiness that permeated his body each time he’d flaked out on an uncomfortable bench or awakened on a cold concrete floor. It was just one more thing that added to his unhappy life as a homeless drug addict.

I wonder if that guy had a dog like this one
, Alex pondered, rubbing his thumb over the etching on the front of the Amish fellow’s watch.

He stared at the picture of the bird dog engraved on the outer case of the pocket watch and clasped his fingers tightly around it.
That poor guy never knew what hit him.
Truth was, Alex didn’t remember a whole lot about the beating, except that he’d gone berserk and started kicking and punching when the Amish fellow had refused to hand over his wallet. Once Alex had started his tirade, he’d been oblivious to everything around him and unable to stop himself. After he’d finally come to his senses, he’d taken the unconscious man’s wallet, clothes, bus ticket, and pocket watch, then left him on the cold bathroom floor. After that, he’d rushed out the door, not knowing, or even caring, how badly the man might have been hurt.

If Alex was a decent sort, he would have gone back to make sure the guy wasn’t dead. But Alex hadn’t been decent for a good many years. Maybe he never had been. Maybe he’d always been full of hate. After the beating, all Alex had cared about was saving his own hide and getting out of there as fast as he could. Now if only this bus would get moving and put more miles between him and Philly, Alex would feel a whole lot better about things. What if the Amish guy had come to and told the police about the mugging? The police could be looking for him right now. Would they know he was on his way to Indiana, dressed in the Amish man’s clothes, and using his bus ticket? Alex had never been to Indiana before, but he was anxious to get there, especially now.