Read Online In the Land of Milk and Honey by Jane Jensen - Free Book Online Page A

up at it. You thank God for it. Anything less would be the worst kind of blasphemy.”
    â€œBut it’s just milk!”
    The gulf between me and Ezra rarely felt this wide, but he was looking at me with his brow wrinkled in confusion. He gave a frustrated grunt. “No such thing as ‘just milk.’ When you have a family cow, you drink milk at every meal, and between meals too. It’s free and it’s gut for the body. If you’re feeling peaky, you drink milk. If you can’t sleep, you drink milk. If the milk jug is empty, you go milk the cow. If the cow is dry, you go milk the neighbor’s cow. And if the neighbor’s cow is dry, well . . . in that case it’s time for a general meetin’.”
    He was trying to be funny in that laconic way of his, but I wasn’t in the mood to be amused. “I’m not asking them to give up milk forever. It’s just until we’ve figured out where the toxin is coming from. You’d think parents would worry about their children. Hannah poured out
her
milk.”
    Ezra shook his head. “Hannah knows you. And she knows the Hershbergers gut too. You won’t convince most Amish that there’s somethin’ poison in the animal he raised on his own land, and milks with his own hands.”
    I crossed my arms over my chest. “They’d damn well better hope I’m wrong then.”
    Ezra set his glass down, giving it a guilty glance. Suddenly, I felt uneasy. “That’s the milk I brought home last night, right? From the store?” I got up and went to the refrigerator. Inside was the half gallon of pasteurized milk from a national brand in its carton with a grinning cartoon cow. Unopened. Next to it was a plastic unmarked gallon I recognized all too well, the top quarter already gone. “Ezra! For God’s sake!”
    Ezra’s voice was steady but had a trace of apology in it. “Happened to go by Henry’s Fruit Market today and . . . I was thirsty.”
    Feeling sick and angry, I strode to the table, picked up Ezra’s glass, and carried it to the sink. There my temper and frustration overcame me, and instead of pouring it down the drain as I’d planned, I threw the glass of milk into the sink where it shattered and sent drops of milk flying everywhere.
    â€œElizabeth!” Ezra was out of his chair, his face red.
    â€œHow could you do that? You say Hannah knows me. How could
you
get that milk and drink it when you know—” My voice cracked. I was at a loss. “You didn’t see them, the Kindermans! You didn’t go into that house!”
    â€œHush!” Ezra strode over in two big steps, put his arms around me, and pulled me close. “I’m sorry. You mentioned it . . . but—I truly didn’t know it meant that much to you. I won’t drink it again. Don’t be upset.”
    â€œUgh!” I remained stiff in his arms. The thought of him waking in the night, vomiting . . . seeing him die in agony. One part of me knew I was being ridiculous. I was overreacting, like some kind of PTSD reaction to seeing those bodies, those
children
. Thelikelihood of there being anything wrong with
this
milk was minuscule. But still—
    There was a knock on the front door.
    â€œWho would be callin’ at this hour?” Ezra made no move to get the door, just kept soothingly rubbing my back.
    â€œI’d better see.” I pulled away, not entirely done being mad at him. Christ. If my own boyfriend didn’t listen to me about this . . . I wiped my eyes and walked to the door.
    I opened it to find Glen Turner standing there looking unhappy. “Sorry to bother you at home. I tried your cell, but it went right to voice mail.”
    â€œThe battery’s probably dead. Sorry about that.” I stepped back. “Come on in. What’s going on?”
    Glen stepped into the living room. He looked