DC03 - Though Mountains Fall by Dale Cramer Page A

and a roof over our heads. We are blessed.”
    Watching his eyes, she saw that he remained unconvinced. From birth, his heavy-handed father had pounded it into him that no sin would go unpunished, ever. She could see it still, in Levi’s angry eyes, and she knew his thoughts. The two of them had sinned before Gott and had never confessed publicly. In Levi’s world, every ill wind was divine retribution.
    “We are cursed,” he said.
    Shifting Will to her other hip she smiled patiently and kissed his cheek.
    “No, Levi. We are blessed. In time, you will see.”
    He looked down at the baby she was holding and gently ran his blackened fingers through Will’s curly brown hair. When his eyes met hers she saw it—the glimmer of hope, the beginning of faith. Levi trusted her. In time, he would come to know the Gott of love and forgiveness that she knew.
    In time.

    The butchering of Levi’s cows kept some of the men busy all afternoon, but they managed to gather in Caleb’s barn that evening. Because of everything that had happened there would be no youth singing, although the church benches remained in place.
    They were all there except Levi, sitting shoulder to shoulder on a couple of benches in the back—Caleb’s son-in-law Ezra, John Hershberger, Ira Shrock and the five new men. Caleb stood before them, and with grim determination told them everything Rachel had confessed about what happened that night in El Pantera’s barn at Diablo Canyon. There were gasps of astonishment, along with a few grunts and groans as he talked, but no one interrupted.
    “The question that is in my mind,” Caleb said, “is what do we do now?”
    Ira Shrock was the first to speak. “If the boy killed somebody he will have to be put in the ban, it’s as simple as that. We cannot abide a murderer in our midst. But we don’t have a bishop, and it don’t look to me like we’re going to have one anytime soon.”
    “That might change,” Mahlon Yutzy said hopefully, “now that we got rid of those bandits.”
    “They’re not the only bandits in the land,” Ira huffed.
    Atlee Hostetler chimed in. “Jah, but now that we have troops in the valley we won’t be having so much trouble. We should write and tell the folks back home. Maybe a bishop will come at last.”
    Caleb nodded, but he didn’t share their enthusiasm for the troops. They had not seen the things he’d seen.
    “I will write them,” he said. “But just now we have to decide what to do with Jake.”
    Hershberger, the man who was working Jake as a hired hand and knew him best, raised a finger and said, “I think we should take things in order here. We haven’t heard from Jake, nor have we heard from two witnesses.”
    “Did you bring him?”
    “Jah, just like you asked me to. He is waiting outside. What about the witnesses? Two witnesses are needed for a proper hearing.”
    “I don’t think there were two witnesses,” Caleb answered. “Only Rachel. Domingo knows the truth, but he’s not one of us.”
    “We can’t have a proper hearing anyway, since we don’t have a bishop,” Hershberger said. “So let’s bring Jake in here and see what he has to say for himself. We can listen to Rachel, too. We should hear this from the lips of those who were there, don’t you think?”
    Several of the men mumbled words of assent.
    Caleb motioned to Ezra, who stepped outside and returned in a moment with Jake trailing behind.
    They questioned Jake at length. He freely admitted his guilt, and it was clear from his demeanor that he felt deep and terrible remorse, though he respectfully maintained that he never meant to kill the man.
    As soon as Jake was allowed to leave, Ezra fetched Rachel from the house and they interviewed her. She confirmed everything Jake had told them, holding nothing back, even when they asked her why Jake attacked the man in the first place.
    “The bandit was on top of me,” she said. “He came to me in the middle of the night to—” she