by Loree Lough
All this from a man who made no secret of how much he’d enjoyed married life enough to want to marry again and, this time, raise a family. And though he hadn’t said it in so many words, Simon’s actions made it clear he’d like Julia to share that dream with him.
Knowing that a man like Simon cared for her—and cared deeply—touched her as few things in her life had. But then, he only knew the public Julia, whose reserved behavior was meant for the office and the courtroom or meandering through the quaint shops in Paradise. A time or two she’d unintentionally given him a peek into her past and let him catch a glimpse of memories that had the power to cast ominous shadows on her present. The brief visit into her history awoke the hero in him, and Julia instinctively knew that he wanted to protect her not only from things that had hurt her long ago, but from anything that might hurt her now and in the future, too.
Lying on her stomach, Julia punched her pillow then buried her face in the crook of one arm. How many single women live in Lancaster County? she wondered. How many would count themselves fortunate to have a man like Dr. Simon Thomas interested in them?
Every last one, she admitted.
And how many needed rescuing?
Very few, she thought—spawning the idea that his interest in her might be likened to his “save the helpless critters” tendencies. The very thought made her wince. She’d fallen hard and fast for Simon, and Julia had experienced just enough close calls to know the difference between what merely felt like love…and the real thing.
Trouble was, knowing the difference opened a whole new can of worms. Because love stirred the protector in her, too, prompting a reaffirming of her decision to spare him from herself.
That decision that would prove to be the toughest of her life.
A whopping case of “missing Levi” woke him earlier than usual, inspiring Simon to pay a visit to the Gundens’ before opening the clinic. His pickup hadn’t even rolled to a complete stop when Levi raced up to the driver’s door, tears streaming down his face.
“Doctor Thomas,” he cried, “come inside, quick. It’s Mama…she is very, very sick.”
Instinct made him grab his doctor’s bag from the passenger seat. “What is it, Levi? Did she fall?”
“No,” the boy wailed. “Papa says something is wrong with the baby.”
Baby, Simon thought, racing toward the house, what baby? He hadn’t heard that Hannah was pregnant….
William met him at the door, white-faced and wide-eyed. “God must have sent you,” he rasped. “Hannah is in a bad way, Simon. I have never seen anything like it.”
The man had brought dozens of farm animals into the world—some breech. Things must be terrible indeed to paint that look of fear on his face. “Where is she?” Simon asked, stepping up to the sink.
“Upstairs in her bed,” Levi said as Simon dialed 911 on his cell phone. And then he prayed, because he knew from experience it would take no fewer than fifteen minutes for EMTs to arrive. Meeting William’s gaze, he said, “Blood?”
“More than I have ever seen,” he answered, running a trembling hand through his hair.
Simon barked instructions and information to the dispatcher, then snapped the phone shut and dropped it into his shirt pocket. Raising and lowering the pump handle, he started a stream of cool clear water. Grabbing a bar of homemade soap from the counter, he began vigorously scrubbing his hands.
“Where are Seth and Rebekah?”
“At the schoolhouse,” William said on a shaky breath.
Good, Simon thought. Now if only he could think of something to occupy and calm Levi while he ran upstairs to see what he could do for Hannah until the ambulance showed up. A knock at the door startled all three in the kitchen, and Levi ran to it. “Oh, Miss Julia!” he sobbed, flinging himself into her arms.
When she made eye contact with Simon, her expression registered concern and confusion.
“Mama is very sick,” Levi blubbered. “Very, very sick.”
Simon had never been more relieved to see anyone in his life. “God must have sent you,” he said, quoting William. Then, turning to the Amishman and his son, he added, “You two get down to the end of your drive, in case the ambulance needs help finding your house.” To Julia he said, “Grab my bag and follow me, will you?”
Instantly, she snapped into action. “What happened?” she whispered, racing up the stairs behind him.
“Not sure yet. Levi said something about a baby, and William says there’s lots of blood. Sounds like a miscarriage.” He stopped on the landing. “Now, we don’t know what we’re gonna find in there,” he said in a low, grave voice, “so do your best to stay calm and try not to look so terrified, okay?”
Julia took a deep breath then nodded.
Simon strode confidently into the room and tried to ignore the huge puddle of blood that surrounded Hannah. One hand over her stomach and the other pressed to her forehead, she grimaced with pain.
“So what’s the big idea,” he said around a tense smile, “keeping this pregnancy a secret from your friends?”
“I wasn’t even sure myself yet,” Hannah said. Opening her eyes, she spotted Julia at the foot of the bed. “I prayed God would send a woman,” she rasped. “I am so glad He sent you.”
Julia returned her smile and then knelt beside the thin mattress, taking Hannah’s hand in her own “How far along do you think you are?”
“Not far.” A tear escaped the corner of one blue eye. “We were so looking forward to another child.”
“This is far from over, Hannah Gunden,” she said, patting the hand. “Keep a good thought.”
“You are right, of course.” Hannah managed a feeble grin. “Will you pray, Julia?”
He could almost read her mind. Eyes wide and lips parted, the idea scared her nearly as much as Hannah’s condition. Lord God, Simon prayed, give her the words that Hannah needs to hear….
He watched as Julia licked her lips and straightened her spine, listened as she took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “O Lord our God,” she began, “be with us now and bless us with Your strength. We trust that You will watch over Hannah and her baby as You correct whatever is causing Hannah’s pain, as You put an immediate stop to her bleeding. We know that You are all-powerful and wait with hopeful hearts for You to answer this prayer….”
“Amen,” Hannah whispered. “Amen.”
The composure that seemed to flow from Julia filled the room, reminding Simon that he’d almost forgotten his purpose here. “Would you hand me my stethoscope,” he said to her, “and see if you can find a couple of clean sheets and towels around here somewhere?”
She was on her feet in a heartbeat, hurrying around to his side of Hannah’s bed to place his doctor’s bag on the night table. “Are the linens in the dresser, Hannah?” she asked, handing Simon the stethoscope with one hand and pointing at the tall many-drawered bureau against the far wall.
The woman answered with a slight nod, and in no time Julia was back again, carrying neatly folded sheets in her arms. After putting them beside his bag, she grabbed a washcloth. “Be right back,” she said quietly. “I’m just going to the kitchen to dampen this. Maybe if I wash her face…”
She was gone before Simon could tell her what a good idea it was, and he wondered how many women would handle a crisis like this with her levelheadedness. Especially considering that Hannah’s pulse was thready and her heartbeat far faster than normal.
“Who would have guessed,” Hannah said, her voice soft, her words slow, “that she could pray like that.”
“Who would have guessed,” he echoed. “Now you be quiet, Mrs. Gunden, and conserve your strength, you hear?”
She gave the barest of nods as the hint of a smile curved her lips upward. “Yes, Doctor.”
Hannah slipped into unconsciousness just as the blare of sirens raced up the drive. “What Julia said, Lord?” he prayed. “Ditto.”
The doctors agreed to let Hannah go home from the hospital only if she
promised to stay off her feet for at least a week. “And remember,” Levi said as he helped Hannah into the kitchen, “no climbing the stairs!”
Seth and Rebekah hovered nearby, chattering about how they’d prepared for their mother’s return. “Seth and I brought our beds into the parlor,” her daughter said. “You’ll sleep on Seth’s and I’ll sleep beside you, in case you need anything, anything at all.”
“But where will Seth sleep?” Levi wanted to know.
“In your bed,” said his older brother, “with you.”
Levi groaned. “Oh, that will never work. You are a blanket hog!”
Seth chuckled. “And you are a pillow pig, so we are even.”
After inhaling a huge breath, Levi shook his head. “Oh, I suppose I can stand anything for a week, since it is for Mama.”
Julia would give anything to have children like these! But this was neither the time nor place to dwell on her own sorry past. “I’m making your supper tonight,” she announced.
“Such a good friend,” Hannah said, sinking gratefully onto the bed where she’d spend the next seven nights. “You came to see me every day I was in the hospital and came to take me home, and now this?” She bit her lower lip. “We will be all right, if you have something else to do.”
“You’ll be doing me a favor,” Julia said.
William stacked pillows behind his wife’s back. “How are we doing you a favor, Julia?”
“You’re my guinea pigs.” She flapped a recipe card in the air. “It’s the first time I’m making this casserole.”
“Is there enough for one more?” said a voice through the screen door.
“Simon!” Levi squealed. “Have you come to welcome Mama home?”
“Indeed I have,” he said, scooping the boy into his arms. “How are you, Hannah?”
“Very well,” she said around a wan smile.
But Julia knew better. She’d been at the hospital when the doctor came in to say that Hannah had lost the baby. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a woman cry harder. When the tears had subsided, the woman wiped her eyes and blew her nose and said “Gottes wille,” and not another word was spoken of the miscarriage. Though Julia didn’t see eye to eye with the “God’s will” theory, she did hope that if she were ever put to such a test, she’d carry herself with the same grace and dignity.
Supper that night was a festive event. Instead of mourning their loss, the Gundens chose to celebrate Hannah’s recovery. Halfway through the meal, Simon was called to the clinic to perform emergency surgery on a dog that had fallen from a second-story window. Julia stayed to help Rebekah with the dishes, then bid them all farewell and headed home to study a brief for her court case the next day. “But I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised, “with another recipe to test!”
When she arrived an hour earlier the next day, Hannah looked much more like her old self. Not quite the robust, rosy-cheeked woman she’d been before the miscarriage, but far healthier than when Julia and Simon waited with her for the EMTs to arrive. Julia brewed a cup of herbal tea for the two of them and perched on a wooden bench beside Hannah’s temporary bed in the parlor. “I cannot sip from a cup while lying down,” Hannah protested. “I am well enough to sit quietly at the table.” And with that, she marched into the kitchen.
Julia followed dutifully, carrying a steaming mug of tea in each hand. “All right,” she said, placing one mug in front of her Amish friend, “but if I even start to see signs that you’re feeling poorly, it’s back to bed for you!”
Chuckling, Hannah nodded. “You would have made a good nurse, I think.” Easing onto a chair, she said, “You keep to yourself far too much. God did not intend for His children to be alone.”
Julia sat a little taller. The comment had come from out of nowhere, leaving her wondering how—or if—she ought to respond. It would have been disrespectful to say “Mind your own business,” especially considering what the married mother of three had just survived. And although, according to Levi, his mother was only three years older than Julia, Hannah had always seemed much older and wiser than that.
“I hope my honesty does not offend you, Julia, but I have always felt closer to you than the others in town.”
Smiling, Julia sighed, knowing that by “others,” Hannah meant “not Amish.” “And I’m sorry if it sometimes seems as if I’m standoffish and withholding.”
“If I could, I would bring some tea to William,” she said absentmindedly. “He has been hard at work in the killing room all morning.”
“Again?” Julia asked. And remembering the lessons about slaughter little Levi had given her, she tried not to wrinkle her nose.
“More pigs means more customers,” Hannah said matter-of-factly. She gave a slight shrug. “But as I was saying, I have been watching you closely this past year. I would have to be blind not to see the sadness in your eyes.” One hand over her heart, Hannah shook her head. “No one would argue that our lives are very different, yours and mine, but I am your friend, you know.”
“I’m touched, and I’m honored,” Julia admitted. And, not knowing what else to say, she took a sip of the tea. “Delicious…”
“Tell me, Julia Spencer, just who are you, anyway?”
“Goodness,” she said with a laugh. “What a question!”
A deep furrow appeared between Hannah’s eyebrows. “I know that you live just down the road a bit in the house built by your grandfather. I know that your work puts you in Lancaster every day, where you do many important legal things inside the courthouse.” She tilted her head. “But where did you go, all those years ago, Julia? And why did you leave Paradise?”
Where to begin? Julia wondered. And then she sat back, clasped both hands on top of the table, took a deep breath, and confessed everything to the woman who now seemed more like a sister than a friend. She started with the gloomy Tuesday morning when a counselor delivered a frightened three-year-old to her grandparents’ house, to the Saturday last summer when she came back to it again, scarred by her parents’ abandonment and the sexual abuse that had happened in between. As Julia spoke, Hannah’s blue eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, Julia, I admire you so, for having survived it all without even more bitterness.”
Even more bitterness? Julia’s mind echoed.
Hannah dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her white apron. “Life has inflicted many wounds upon your heart, and God our merciful Father has given you many years to heal.” Wrapping both hands around her mug, Hannah spoke slowly. “But…why do I get the impression that you blame Him for all the sadness of your past?”
“Well, it’s kinda hard not to,” Julia admitted. “He’s supposed to be all-powerful. Loving and merciful. ‘Ask, and ye shall receive’ and all that, right? But it isn’t true. At least, not all of the time. Not for some of us, anyway.” She was rambling and knew it but seemed incapable of stopping now that she’d started. “I asked for His help. Believe me, I asked. Plenty of times! Not unreasonable, silly things, mind you. Yet never, not once, did He answer. I can’t help but think—”
“Your parents did horrible, regrettable things. I cannot argue with you about that,” Hannah interrupted, “but you had no part in any of it.” She gave Julia’s hand a light tap. “They made poor choices, but admitting that they could not care for you? It was not one of those poor choices. That was a good-for-you choice.”
Dozens of times, Granny had said as much before the Commonwealth took Julia away, though back then, little-girl Julia had no concept of what it meant. Now Julia watched as Hannah fiddled with her bonnet ties, half wishing she’d exercised more self-restraint and kept her sordid story a secret.
“Do you know why Amish women wear hats all the day long?”
“Of course I do,” Julia said. “It’s because you believe that, in order to pray, your head must be covered. And since you never know when you might be called to do just that…”
Laughing, Hannah said, “I am impressed. How did you learn this?”
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br /> “What I didn’t learn from watching you, my friend, I learned from life itself. I’ve lived on the outskirts of Amish communities most of my life. In fact, one of my foster fathers was born Amish.”
“Ahh,” the woman said. “Shunned?”
Words like “outskirts” and “shunned” had always awoken unpleasant feelings in Julia. No surprise, really, since that’s how she’d felt most of her life.
“You often come into my mind, Julia, and when you do, I pray for you.”
Julia cleared her throat. “I…well…thank you….”
“May I be blunt?”
Julia grinned, because it seemed to her that Hannah had already been blunt! “I suppose.”
“Ah, there it is again…the wary look of a nonbeliever.” Hannah took a deep breath. “To tell you the truth, I would expect someone with so much book learning to be smarter.” She didn’t wait for Julia to respond. Instead, Hannah launched into a fullblown lecture:
“You may have inherited the eye color of one parent or the height of the other, but inside”—she patted her own ample bosom—“inside, you are not like them at all. This I know from watching closely when you are with my own children.” She leaned in and narrowed one eye. “I always know that I can trust you with any of them, because you have a good head and a good heart and good instincts, too. So this…” Hannah waved her hands. “So this ‘I might not be a good mother’ nonsense…” She slapped the table. “That is what it is…just nothing but nonsense!”
Julia knew it, too…on a conscious level. She’d taken the required psych courses in college, studied about misplaced hostility and other destructive behaviors. But book knowledge and what a person believed, she’d learned, were two entirely different things. “Feels good to know you care.” And it did, right down to the soles of her shoes.
Hannah shook her head then folded both arms across her chest. “Make no mistake, Julia, my words were not intended to make you feel good.” Shaking a maternal finger, she added, “God put this little speech on my heart months ago, and ever since, I have prayed that He would tell me just when to deliver it.”