With Mrs. Edigers’s directions and Gabe’s heavy foot on the pedal, they were soon pulling in front of a large white farmhouse. In the moment before he shut off the truck, the headlights revealed a man stepping out onto the porch, a black-and-white dog at his side. Gabe gathered equipment from his side of the cab and hurried around to help the midwife over the rough, frozen yard. Woofing once to let them know he knew they were there, the Border collie stayed beside the man, his white-tipped tail waving gently over his back.
Geared to respond to any medical or emergency situation, Gabe blew out a few breaths to remind himself it wasn’t him who’d been called out to the farm. He was self-invited backup. Keeping a hand under the older woman’s elbow, he assisted her up the stairs.
“Hello, Malachi. How’s she doing?”
The blond man looked like he wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “Gut?”
Mrs. Edigers patted his arm. “Don’t get too comfortable out here. Even if Ruth isn’t looking for you again soon, I will be to have you help catch the baby.”
The man’s broad shoulders rose and fell in a shaky sigh. With a smile, the midwife patted his arm again and disappeared into the house.
Turning to Gabe, Malachi reached out a hand. “Denki for bringing her out.” Raising an eyebrow at the unusual action for an Amish man, Gabe shifted the bag of equipment to his other hand and shook it. It was surely an unusual evening for the pending father.
“You Samuel and Gideon’s brother?” It was a logical assumption. There was a family resemblance to the two men who’d been at the fire department training session. Gideon had said the day of the cold water rescue that he worked at the furniture business in town. The only one Gabe had seen so far was called Schrock Brothers. But in Amish communities, where certain surnames were very common, there could be ten different Schrock families.
“Depends on if they were behaving.”
Gabe grinned and reached down to acquaint himself with the dog before running his hand over its smooth head. “Very much so. I saw them at a CPR training session last night and met Gideon when he and Ben Raber rescued the boy at the pond.”
“Then I guess I’ll claim them.” Malachi looked over his shoulder through the door into the house. “I...ah...need to go back inside.” The man twisted his work-hardened hands together. Gabe read both apprehension and eagerness in the gesture.
“Absolutely.” Gabe quickly crossed the porch. Malachi followed, looking immediately to a closed door across the large, simply furnished room once they stepped inside the house.
He closed the outer door with a quiet click. “Actually, it was gut to step away for a moment. It’s hard to see her in... She isn’t saying much of anything.” Malachi’s smile was wry, but his eyes remained solemn. “Which is abnormal for Ruth.” He exhaled in a long stream through pursed lips. “I feel...helpless. I’m so glad Hannah came earlier. She’s been a comfort to Ruth.”
Gabe gripped the man’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. Even though she wasn’t and may never be his, the thought of Hannah someday bringing his child into the world swept him with empathy for this obviously strong man who felt powerless in the face of his wife’s pain. “I’m sure you are a great comfort to Ruth, as well.”
Malachi swallowed and nodded. “I’m going to go back in. Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen.” He glanced toward the dog. “All I can offer is Rascal for company while you wait.”
“We’ll be fine.” Releasing his grip, Gabe glanced down at the dog. Relieving Gabe of the supplies with a final nod, Malachi crossed to the closed door, his tread slow on the linoleum floor. Pausing in front of it, he took a deep breath, turned the handle, stepped decisively into the quiet room and closed the door behind him.
The Border collie looked toward the door and whined softly. Gabe knelt to give him a few reassuring pats. “They’ll be fine, as well.” Rising to his feet, he wandered briefly around the room before stopping in front of an oak rocker. Marveling at the workmanship, he decided it was too small for him and settled into the upholstered mission-style chair nearby. Shifting through a stack of Budgets, he began flipping through the Amish newspaper by the illumination of a nearby gas light. The dog lay down between the two chairs, chin on paws, to face the bedroom door. The room was quiet except for the ticking of the nearby wall clock and the soft rustle of turning pages.
Fifteen minutes later, both man and dog started when a strident tone intruded in the silence. It took Gabe a moment to process that his pager was going off in the room otherwise void of electronics. Hushing the device, he quickly contacted dispatch. A moment later, he rapped softly on the closed bedroom door.
When Hannah cracked the door open, he smiled in relief at the composure on her face. “How are things going?”
“Gut. We’re still waiting. The boppeli is being a little shy.”
“I need to go on a call. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Will that be an issue for Mrs. Edigers?”
Hannah turned back toward the unseen room. Following a short, murmured discussion, she shook her head. “Nee. She’s expecting to be here a gut while yet.”
Gabe nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later.” Although he wished for a more lingering farewell, he needed to get going. Giving another abrupt nod, he headed for the door. That Hannah was still watching him when he’d looked back while closing it prompted an extra zip in his step as Gabe hustled across the frozen ground to his truck.
The flashing blue light on his vehicle reflected over the snowy landscape as he retraced his way toward Miller’s Creek. Gabe recognized the address. On the distant outskirts of town, he swung into a driveway, the truck shuddering as it slid into the frozen ruts in the unplowed surface. Abandoned vehicles lined the lane to a dilapidated house and machine shed. The sign above the wide shed door was shattered on the left side, leaving only the word REPAIR visible, like it was making a plea instead of advertising a business.
A dim glow, generating from a bare bulb in a simple white socket, lit the porch. Gear in hand, Gabe headed for the ragged door beyond. He’d heard of this guy. Clay Weathers had been a respected local mechanic until a snowmobile accident a few years ago. He’d eventually recovered from his back injury. He hadn’t recovered from the pain medications he’d become addicted to during the process. His business, health, friends and family had been left behind in the wake of the hold opioids now had on him.
Gabe brushed his pocket to confirm he had naloxone as he trod across the weathered porch. The call had been for a deep laceration but, given the story on the man, other issues were possible. Rapping firmly on the warped screen door, he loudly announced himself. Gabe was about to try the handle when a muffled “Come in” filtered through the door.
Pushing it open, Gabe stepped into a small, shabby living room to find who he presumed to be his patient, sitting in a worn recliner with the footrest extended. A bloody towel was wrapped around the man’s hand. The man’s left calf was bare except for the blood-stained towel pressed to it with his free hand. A few more similarly soiled towels lay beside the chair.
“Looks like you tangled with something.” Upon setting down his gear, Gabe donned his personal protective equipment and leaned over the man. He nodded to the man’s leg. “May I?”
Wearily nodding, the man pulled his hand back. Gabe examined the leg. Through the smeared blood, he could see some gashes and a seeping puncture wound. “Dog bite?” he confirmed.
“Yup, but he didn’t mean it. Was my fault. I startled him.”
Placing clean gauze on the puncture wound, Gabe directed the man to place pressure against it. “Let’s get that bleeding stopped before we clean you up.” Turning his attention to the man’s hand, Gabe unwrapped the soiled towel to find similar wounds, although these were no longer bleeding. “Do you know the dog? Is this normal behavior for it? Do you know if it’s up-to-date on its rabies shots?”
�
�No, no. He’s a good dog. He’s in good shape.”
Gabe frowned. He didn’t know if he was talking more to Clay Weathers or to what the man was under the influence of. Gathering what he needed, Gabe began cleaning and treating the man’s hand.
“When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
Now the man frowned. His eyes, even with their constricted pupils, looked melancholy. “I used to keep up with that. Because of the shop. I... I’ve had one.”
“Do you want to go to the hospital? I don’t think these will require stitches, but I recommend having them checked out, as dog bites are prone to infection.” He couldn’t make the man go to the hospital. And the choice not to go affected what Gabe could do for him. But if he went, perhaps Clay Weathers would allow the hospital to assist him with other issues.
“Nah. I’ll be all right.” The man’s head dropped to the worn headrest of the recliner, and he closed his eyes.
Gabe sighed as he wrapped gauze around the man’s hand. “You’ll need to continue to clean the wounds and put antibiotic ointment on them.” Finishing with the hand, Gabe turned his attention to the leg to find the bleeding had stopped. “I highly recommend seeking out your personal physician for future care, especially if it gets infected.”
Attending to the man’s calf, Gabe felt rather than saw the man’s shrug. He wasn’t surprised with the reaction. It was what he’d expected. The man had his reasons not to want to see a health official. Still, the situation saddened Gabe.
After doing all he could to ensure Clay Weathers had the best possible chance he could give him for healthy recovery, Gabe packed up his gear to go. Stopping at the door, he turned back toward the man. “I can’t emphasize enough that you follow up with your doctor.”
“I’ll be fine. I sure do thank you for your help. I got a little concerned when the bleeding wouldn’t stop.”
Gabe nodded in acknowledgment. He met the man’s listless gaze across the small room. “I hope you seek out help, sir.”
Clay lifted his unbandaged hand and waved. Lips pressed in a firm line, Gabe stepped out the door and closed it behind him. His spirits only lifted when he got to the truck and remembered he was returning to Hannah.
* * *
Hannah stepped through the bedroom door and closed it softly behind her. Heading across the large open living area, she froze, wide-eyed, at the sight of Gabe, reading in the dim light of the gaslight, Rascal lying beside him on a braided rug.
“You’re back.”
Gabe rose from the chair. “How are things going?”
Emotions still high from recent events, Hannah had trouble finding her tongue. “Gut. Really gut. Everyone is doing fine.” Her heart swelled. If things had been different, it might have been her in the adjoining room, with Gabe supporting and encouraging her through the delivery of their child. If she had met him that night, this might’ve been their second child.
Without thinking, she found herself moving across the room toward Gabe, unable to contain the wide smile that spread over her face. “The boppeli just arrived. A beautiful baby girl. New mamm and daed are getting acquainted with her.” As if on cue, the sound of a newborn’s cry penetrated the room.
“From the sound of it, she takes after her mother?” Gabe wore a teasing grin as he glanced at the closed bedroom door.
“Ach, that’s unfair. Ruth was as quiet as a mouse all through delivery.”
“I’ve heard that about Amish women.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how they do it.”
“Neither do I.” Hannah shared his smile. The volume of the cries increased. Although reluctant to break eye contact, Hannah turned toward the bathroom. “I have to gather some things and return.” Gabe followed her across the room, the dog at his heels. Rummaging in a cupboard, she slid him a shy glance. “I’m glad you’re back.” Hannah blushed when she realized she’d verbalized her thought, hoping the murmur was low enough that Gabe hadn’t heard it.
She caught her breath when he gently touched her elbow. “So am I.” His hand slid down her arm to tangle with her fingers. “Do you ever think...?”
Yes. She did. Way too frequently recently. Hannah studied the floor. “I shouldn’t.”
Goosebumps rose on her forearms at the realization they’d both been thinking the same thing. She turned to look at this man who might have been her husband. Beyond his dear face, she saw the room behind him.
The contrast was blatant. Gabe’s light brown hair wasn’t in a bowl style, but curled closely to his head. There was no beard on his chin, a length determined by their years of marriage. If she’d been married to Gabe, the house where they lived wouldn’t have a room lit with gas and lantern light. It probably wouldn’t have a gas-powered refrigerator. There wouldn’t be a few buggy and draft horses in the barn. But most critical of all, it wouldn’t be with the support of the Amish community that would gather around, visiting the new boppeli. To support her, the new mother.
Because of the new father.
Which one did she want more? Which could she more easily live without? Right now, flush with the miracle of new life, and after witnessing the wonder of two awestruck parents holding their newborn, with her hand clasped in Gabe’s warm, strong grip, and his green eyes soft on hers, Hannah knew if he would ask what she thought he’d wanted to ask years ago, she’d say yes.
Her eyes must have mirrored her confusion, as Gabe leaned closer, his other hand lifting to gently cup the back of her neck under her kapp. Eyelids fluttering down, Hannah swayed toward him.
Only to jerk back when the dog at their side yipped excitedly and trotted toward the bedroom door. Hastily dropping Gabe’s hand, Hannah stepped away from him. Turning back to the cupboard, she stared into its depth a moment before she could recall what she was supposed to gather. When the bedroom door swung open a short while later, she was halfway across the room with her arms full of towels and other items.
Malachi stuck his head out the door. “Did you find everything you needed?”
“Ja.” Hannah nodded, slipping past him into the room.
“I’m a daed,” she heard Malachi announce to Gabe with some amazement.
Gabe’s soft “Congratulations” followed them into the room before Malachi closed the door behind them.
Ruth was sitting up in bed, holding the baby, a captivated smile on her weary face as she looked down at her newborn daughter. Malachi crossed to the pair. Carefully setting a hip on the bed, he slid his arm about Ruth’s shoulders.
“I’m glad it’s a dochder,” he murmured.
“Really?” Ruth’s smile widened as she leaned against her husband.
“Really,” he echoed. “I hope she’s just like you.”
Ruth turned her head toward Malachi. This time her tone was heavy with skepticism. “Really?”
“Ja. The world needs people like you.” Dipping his head, he kissed her nose. “Just not too many of them.”
Hannah busied herself on the other side of the room, her emotions warring between yearning and mild embarrassment at having witnessed the tender exchange.
She was so, so happy for her friend. Sliding another glance at the trio on the bed, Hannah bit her tongue when a sliver of envy slipped in to dilute her joy. Quickly, she quashed the errant feeling as she assisted Mrs. Edigers in tidying up the room. Still, she conceded, as she sniffed back a few tears, a family would be wunderbar. She yearned to be a mother. Gabe would be a tender father. If only...
When Mrs. Edigers instructed Gabe to take Hannah home some time later, despite her exhaustion, Hannah was reluctant to go. What had begun with anxiety had ended with awe.
Before they left, Gabe accepted Malachi’s offer to hold his daughter, Deborah. Hannah’s breath had caught at seeing the tiny infant in his strong arms. She’d turned away, but not before Ruth noticed Hannah’s expression and raised her eyebrows almost to her hairline.
If the ride over had seemed endless, the return trip was too short. They didn’t talk, but by tacit agreement, held hands over the front seat’s console. Gabe helped her out of the truck and walked her to the door, fingers again entwined. Although it was still a few hours until sunrise, Hannah was conscious that any minute her parents might be rising to prepare for chores. Still, she tightened her grip and didn’t resist when Gabe used their grasp to swing her around and take her other hand.
“That could’ve been us, you know.” His breath in the cold morning air wafted away an inch from her face.
“Ja,” she whispered.
“It still could.”
Hannah didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She was breathless. Maybe it was the wonder of the night, but anything seemed possible at the moment. Even marrying the man she’d fallen in love with years ago.
Gabe tugged gently on her fingers, and she eased forward. The warm air of his breath caressed her cheek as he leaned closer.
A light flicked on in her parent’s bedroom. She immediately took a step back. In the light of the now-shadowed porch, she saw Gabe’s eyes as he sighed ruefully.
With a subdued smile on her face, Hannah dropped his hands. “Good night.”
“Good night,” he echoed, mirroring her expression. Walking back to the truck, Gabe gave her a last look before getting in.
In his eyes, she’d seen hope. And a promise.
Hope for them? A promise for their future? Hannah knew what she hoped for and the future she was beginning to acknowledge she wanted, but it needed to be Gott’s will, not hers. Knowing she wouldn’t sleep the rest of the night, Hannah quietly made her way into the house.
Chapter Eight
“Yes, I understand.” Although he didn’t. Gabe’s hand tightened around the phone. “No, I appreciate you calling. I’d much rather hear it direct than from another source. Okay. I’ll... I’ll work with that. Sure. Thanks. I appreciate it. Bye.” Gabe slowly lowered the phone. There was no need for him to disconnect the call. The caller, obviously relieved to have finished the conversation, had hung up almost before Gabe’s distracted farewell. Gabe couldn’t blame her. Most people didn’t like being the bearer of bad news.
Her Forbidden Amish Love Page 8