Free The Treasure Hunt by Rebecca Martin Page A

right arm was in a sling. He smiled when he saw all those family members spilling out of the house. Helooked very, very tired as he slumped down on the porch steps and said, “I guess you’re surprised to see me.”
    â€œYou’re hurt,” Mother said, touching the sling.
    â€œYes. I was careless. I should have watched myself better. I cut my hand while band-cutting on the thresher and had to get it stitched up.” He passed his free hand across his forehead. “Now there’s a doctor’s bill to pay. I should have been more careful.”
    â€œAccidents can happen,” Mother said. “You should come in and lie down. Joe, please help Father on that side. I’ll help him here.” Between them, Father staggered through the kitchen to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.
    â€œHow did you get home?” Joe asked, standing near the door.
    â€œTook the night train. Walked to the doctor’s. Waited until he came out here to see a patient.” Father sounded exhausted. His eyes were closed.
    â€œYou mean you got your hand stitched here in Wild Horse by Dr. Crawford?” Lisbet asked.
    â€œNo, no. There was a doctor in the town close by where we were threshing. The owner of the thresher paid the bill for me. Now I owe him.”
    â€œDon’t worry about that,” Mother said firmly. “You have to rest and get well. Would you like some breakfast before you sleep?”
    Father opened his eyes briefly. “Breakfast sounds good. Let me see…I don’t think I had supper last night either.”
    The rest of them had eaten breakfast an hour ago, but in minutes Mother had fried two eggs and toasted a slice of bread. After arranging this on a platter with a glass of milk, she took Father’s breakfast into the bedroom.
    Lisbet looked around the kitchen in a dazed sort of way. “Now, what was I doing, anyway?”
    â€œYou were washing dishes. You dropped the dish rag here on this chair,” Lydia said, “and I was sweeping the kitchen.”
    â€œPoor Father,” Lisbet said as she went on with the dishes. “I think he’s in pain.”
    â€œI hope it’s not too bad,” said Lydia, picking up the broom.
    Joe shouldered the shotgun once more. “I’ll be off hunting now. Father would like squirrel for supper, I’m sure.”
    He headed straight for the creek. Tucking the gun onto the lower branches of a tree, he brought out his pan and began swishing gravel. Panning for gold seemed more urgent than ever, now that Father’s plan to make money had failed. It’s up to me , Joe told himself, making the gravel fly. If nobody else can make money for the family, then I have to.
    Meanwhile, back home in the garden, Lydia was worrying as she helped Mother dig turnips. “I wonder why that had to happen to Father.” She let out a big sigh as she snipped the top off another turnip.
    Mother’s answer was practical and the same one she gave Father earlier. “Accidents happen.”
    Lydia sat back on her heels. “But we hardly have enough money. Why would God let this happen?”
    â€œOh, Lydia,” said Mother with a shake of her head. “Things like this happen all the time. It’s true, God could have prevented it, but the Bible says that God chastens those whom He loves. When trials come our way, we need to keep on being thankful for His love. If we trust Him, something good may come from this happening.”

    Just a few days later, something good did come along. It was Saturday morning, and with a clatter of hoofs, John Miller rode up to the Yoders’ door.
    Spying him from inside the window, Father eased himself out of his chair. “It looks like John doesn’t want to dismount. He must have a message that he’s taking ’round the community.”
    Lydia followed Father to the door. How surprised John looked when he saw Father! “I thought you were gone