Kit Wilkinson - Lancaster County Reckoning

“A coma?” Darcy repeated. “How long will that last?”

“I can’t say,” Blake answered. “But this can happen when recovering from such trauma to the brain. In many cases, the patient is able to eventually make a full recovery.”

“So he will wake up?”

“I can’t make any promises, but we certainly hope so. There’s a very good chance, and many of his indicators look positive. Still, he won’t be out of the woods completely even after waking up. There was a lot of hemorrhaging and we won’t be able to gauge the full extent of the damage until we can communicate with him.” Blake looked at Thomas.

“So...what? What does that mean?” Darcy dropped her arms by her sides, demanding the rest of the news.

“There is always some potential for brain damage. He may end up losing some or all of his cognitive and motor skills, and it’s very possible his memory will be affected.”

“So he won’t remember who he is? He won’t remember me? Or Thomas?”

“Every case is different,” Blake said, trying to console her. But Thomas knew what Blake was really saying was that he had no idea what was going to happen to Jesse. And Thomas could see Darcy’s tiny light of hope extinguishing. He couldn’t imagine how she felt, reconnecting with her father after all of these years only to run the risk of losing him again so soon.

“Doctors have to tell you all of the possibilities,” Thomas said, trying to sound casual. “It doesn’t mean that’s what will happen. God will decide what will happen to Jesse.”

“So you’ve said.” Darcy’s expression soured. “But isn’t there anything you can do medically to help him heal faster or better? To wake him from the coma?”

“Unfortunately no,” Blake said. “His body is already doing what it needs. It’s trying to heal, to live. He’s breathing on his own. We just have to wait now.”

“So he stays here? In this hospital? Can I move him to a hospital in the city? Closer to me?”

“Moving him right now...” Blake shook his head. “Well, that could set on a temporary decline in body function and when he’s already functioning at the lowest level, that would be taking a very unnecessary risk. We should avoid anything that would stress or strain his system more.”

“Can I see him?”

“Of course you can,” he said. “Anytime you like.”

Darcy nodded. “How about now?”

“He’s in the ICU,” Blake said. “Room 11.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” She started toward the door, but turned back to them. “Thomas, may I join you and your friends at Jesse’s later today? I’d like to help clean up.”

“You would be most welcome,” Thomas answered with a nod.

Blake and Thomas watched her move away toward the elevators.

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” Blake put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder.

“I was going to say the same to you.” Thomas tried to muster a smile but the heaviness on his heart wouldn’t allow it. “You are working yourself too hard, Blake, but thank you. Thank you for fighting so hard for my friend. I know you are doing all you can to help Jesse.”

“He’s a tough old bird,” Blake said. “But he was beaten up like I’ve rarely seen. And I’ve seen more than a fair share of beatings working in the ER.”

Thomas shut his eyes as he thought of the state they had found the old man in. The pain he must have been in. At least now Jesse could not feel the pain. He could be thankful to God for that.

“It’s good you found him when you did,” Blake continued. “Without blood and other fluids, I don’t think he would have lasted much longer...”

“Then he must live,” said Thomas. “And I pray that he does. Even apart from his value to the community and to me, it would be so sad for his daughter to lose him now, when she only just found him again.”

Blake’s eyes looked intrigued under the shadow of exhaustion. “What do you think of Miss Simmons?”

Darcy Simmons? Heat rose to Thomas’s cheeks as he remembered the feel of her soft hand and the way her long brown waves framed her sweet face. “I—I think she is scared and confused. And...I think she is in a lot of danger.”

* * *

Darcy stayed with Jesse for most of the morning. He looked so small and weak and old, lying there lifeless in the hospital bed, with tubes running in and out of him. The nurses said he was blessed to be alive. But he hardly looked it.

She wished he would wake up. She had so many questions. She no longer believed anything her grandparents had told her as a child about her parents. Was her mother really killed in a car crash? Why had Jesse started a life with the Amish? It was clear from all the photos of the past that Jesse had not been born Amish. Why hadn’t he stayed in the non-Amish world and raised her? Or at least taken her with him?

There had to be reasons for his choices. There had to be something that caused him to choose this path—a path that had not included her in his life. She tried not to let her questions and confusion cause anger toward her grandparents. But it was hard not to feel betrayed by them and all the lies. She’d probably be upset with Jesse, too, except that he looked so helpless lying there all but lifeless in the hospital bed.

Please wake up, Jesse. Please tell me what happened. Tell me who did this to you and what they want.

Darcy hated to leave Jesse but she was determined to get to the cottage and help clean up. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something there that would tell her more about her father—or at least give her a clue as to who was after him. And now her.

Darcy called a close friend and colleague who was kind enough to use a spare key to her town house and deliver a change of clothes and her makeup bag to the hospital. After breakfast, Darcy felt revived with a clean suit, fresh makeup and some food in her belly. She headed out to Willow Trace, driving through the beautiful back roads of Lancaster County. Her friend had asked her lots of questions when dropping off the clothes, which Darcy had answered merely by saying that a close family member was in a coma and she’d be away from work until further notice. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be long. Funny, though, she thought as she passed an Amish man driving a horse-drawn buggy that was moving at a snail’s pace compared to her, how time seemed to move slower here. Even with all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

When Darcy drove up in front of the cottage, there were already several Amish buggies parked in front. And there was Thomas. He was seated on the front porch, head down, a large book in his hand.

“Good morning,” she said.

He looked up at her. “Good day, Miss Simmons. You look all cleaned up and fancy.”

Heat rose to Darcy’s cheeks. She looked down at her designer suit. “I guess it’s a little dressy for cleaning.”

“We are just finishing up,” Thomas said. “It is time for lunch.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. I should have come earlier.” Darcy was truly disappointed. She had really wanted to help. She had wanted to be a part of this. She had wanted to see Jesse’s home and feel closer to him and his friends. The wave of emotions made Darcy shift her weight over her heels. Life had taught her that depending on anyone made her vulnerable to getting hurt. She couldn’t allow herself to get attached to Thomas or the others in this community just because they were being kind. Maybe she should have just stayed at the hospital.

Thomas stood, folding the book closed. A Bible, from the looks of it, which he tucked under his elbow. “Come. There are people who would like to meet you.”

She followed him into the small living space, which was all tidied up. There were two women inside, along with Elijah, Thomas’s friend whom she had met at the hospital, and one other elderly man. All of them were Amish.