The Amish Midwife's Courtship and Plain Truth

by Cheryl Williford

  She shook her head. “No, it was nothing like that. No one died. All the children were treated and survived.”

  “Then what was the problem?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure he even knew. But something was amiss.”

  “And that something—whatever it was—could have been too much for him to handle. Sounds as if your husband was temperamental.”

  “Aren’t all geniuses that way?”

  “So he was a genius?”

  “He was an intelligent man who had a love of science and research. He understood genetics and how recessive genes manifest in small, limited populations. It was his life’s work.”

  “That led to his death.”

  “He didn’t take his own life,” Ella insisted.

  “You think someone killed him.”

  She gasped. “I never said that.”

  “What else could it be? If he didn’t jump of his own volition, then someone pushed him. That’s a crime, Ella. It’s called murder.”

  “He could have slipped and fallen,” she suggested.

  “Did you see the bridge? Is that likely?”

  She shook her head, realizing Zach was right. Quin didn’t lose his footing and slip off the bridge. Nor had he jumped. He was afraid of water and had never learned to swim. There were other ways that would have been less traumatic to end his life, but again, that wasn’t Quin.

  She looked at Zach and saw the questions in his eyes. What was he keeping from her?

  “Did you drive to Memphis or were you already there?” he asked, his voice stern.

  “What?”

  “It’s evident by your facial expression when you talk about your husband that something was amiss in your marriage. You wanted to fix everything, but you couldn’t. Would it be better to have your husband die rather than face what was to come? Had he asked for a divorce? Was there insurance? You could have built an even larger clinic if he had a big policy, but that money wouldn’t be paid if it was suicide. You didn’t think about that, did you, Ella?”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she fought to keep them in check. “I can’t believe you would suspect me.” She pointed to the door. “I’d appreciate you leaving now.”

  His face changed again. “I’m not leaving. You need protection. I had to find out if there could be any hint of truth to what the Memphis officer shared.”

  “You were testing me?” Her anger increased. Today of all days, she didn’t need more hassle. “I thought you were on my side.”

  “I had to be sure which side you were on, Ella.”

  “Right now, I’m frustrated and angry. Stay in the waiting room, if you want, but I’m going back to my residence.”

  “I had to make sure, Ella, that you were innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  “And when will you need to make sure again, Zach? I can’t handle someone who doesn’t believe in me and changes in a heartbeat. I thought I could trust you. Now I realize I can’t.”

  She turned and hurried from the room overcome with emotion, from upset and heartache to a feeling of being abandoned and wrongly accused. Shame on Zach for playing tricks on her. Shame on her for believing he was something other than an investigator focused on the case. She had learned her lesson, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

  * * *

  Zach wished he could take back the callous comments he’d made. Too many investigations and too many cross-examinations had made him aggressive. He walked down the hallway and knocked on the closed kitchen door. Would Ella hear him, and if she did hear his knock, would she want to talk to him? He doubted he would be welcome, but he needed to tell her what had happened.

  Again, he rapped on the door.

  Footsteps sounded, and it cracked open. She stood on the threshold with one hand on the door and the other on her hip. Her gaze was guarded.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was acting like an overzealous investigator. You don’t understand, I’m sure, but law enforcers need to be careful and get to the bottom of every situation.”

  “You believed the Memphis police officer instead of believing me.”

  “I was wrong, Ella. I’m sorry if my questions upset you.”

  “It wasn’t your questions as much as the hostility I heard in your voice. You suspected me. You probably still do.”

  He couldn’t say anything to change her mind, he felt sure. Maybe with time she’d start to trust him again.

  “I need to bring you up-to-date.” He took a step closer. “Then I’ll leave.”

  Did he detect surprise in her expression? Had she thought he’d stand guard through the night, when she had been so insistent about wanting him to leave?

  “Special Agent Tyler Zimmerman stopped by the clinic with a cell phone. I gave it to Levi Miller. Here’s the number.” Zach handed her a small card. “Program it into your phone. Levi will be next door and will respond immediately if you feel threatened or hear anything or anyone outside.”

  “Are you sure Levi doesn’t mind?”

  “He’s more than happy to help out.”

  “Then you think he’s trustworthy?” Her question held more than a touch of irony.

  “Tyler lives along Amish Road. You’ve probably seen the antebellum home.”

  “He lives there?”

  Zach smiled. “He’s engaged to the woman who inherited the big house from her father. Tyler lives in the brick ranch south of it.”

  “I know the Amish neighbors on the other side of the old home. Isaac and Ruth Lapp have brought their young son, Joseph, to the clinic,” Ella murmured.

  “Tyler invited me to stay at his place for the next couple of days. I won’t be far. Call me if you have a problem.”

  “But you live on post.”

  “I do, in the bachelor officers’ quarters, but the drive takes a bit of time. I wanted to be closer to you.”

  She leaned against the doorjamb. “Thank you, Zach.”

  “Cops have to worse-case every situation, Ella. It’s not personal. It’s the way we roll. I don’t disbelieve you. I just needed to make sure. Your reaction proved to me that you’ve been truthful and sincere.”

  “Evidently I don’t understand law enforcement.”

  He almost smiled. “And I don’t understand medicine. Doctors have never been on my list of most favorite people.”

  “Is it personal?”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Personal, as in a female doc broke your heart so you won’t like any of us.”

  “No girlfriend. No fiancée. No ex-wife.”

  “Then I’m wrong.”

  “It stems from my childhood, but I’ll leave it at that.”

  “And did that play in to your verbal attack against me?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t an attack, Ella. I had questions that needed to be answered.”

  “Which seemed more like an interrogation.”

  He nodded. “I understand how you could misinterpret my intentions.”

  She looked into the kitchen. “I’ve got a pot of chili cooking, if you’re hungry.”

  “Are you sure you want company?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry if I came off as antagonistic.”

  Zach smiled. “Isn’t that what you accused me of being?”

  “And you were exactly that, but I’m tired and not as forgiving as I should be.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Did I ask for forgiveness?”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “If you didn’t, you should have. I’m trying to play nice.”

  “You’re succeeding.”

  “Does that mean you’ll accept my invitation to dinner?”

  “Most assuredly. As they say in the South, ‘My mama di
dn’t raise no fools.’ I’d enjoy sharing a meal with you, but only if you let me take you out sometime.”

  He hadn’t expected Ella’s surprised expression.

  “Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked.

  “No.” He raised his hand as if to block anything she had been thinking along those lines. “A friendly dinner to pay you back for your hospitality.”

  She blushed. “Now I’m feeling embarrassed. I wasn’t fishing for a date. You took me by surprise, especially after I kicked you out.”

  “You made chili.”

  “I’m reheating chili that was already made,” she corrected.

  “That makes no difference. Food is food, and I’m hungry.”

  Ella smiled. “The way I figure it, you’ve got to be down a couple meals.”

  “It’s par for the course for a special agent. We work 24/7 when needed. I can live on coffee for longer than you would like to know.”

  “Has your doctor mentioned the damage that could do to your stomach and esophagus? You’re opening yourself up to acid reflux and even more serious complications.”

  Again, he held up his hand. “I’m doing okay, and I don’t have a primary care doc. If I get sick—and it’s rare that I do—I go on sick call. Although I can’t remember the last time I needed to be treated.”

  “Hardy stock, eh?”

  “Maybe it’s the coffee.” Zach couldn’t help but smile.

  Ella laughed. The tension that he’d felt earlier evaporated. She stepped away from the door and motioned him into the kitchen.

  “We’ll eat in here, if you don’t mind.”

  He glanced at the vase of flowers by the window. “The least I can do is set the table.”

  She pointed to a cabinet near the sink. “You’ll find silverware in the top drawer. We’ll need soup spoons, as well as knives and forks.”

  Ella shoved a cast-iron skillet into the oven. “Do you like corn bread?”

  “I do. That’s good Georgia food.”

  “It’ll be done by the time the chili is hot. There’s butter in the refrigerator, if you want to put it on the table while I make a salad.”

  She also made a pitcher of sweet tea.

  Seeing the sugar she dumped into the warm liquid, Zach had to laugh. “You’re from up north, yet you make tea like a Southerner?”

  “Does that seem strange?” She smiled. “Adding sugar when the tea is warm ensures it will dissolve, which is a lot more economical than putting it in individual glasses. Plus I like the taste.”

  “No wonder the locals enjoy having you around.”

  “Only some of them,” she said as she dropped ice into the pitcher.

  “You’ve had problems before?”

  “Not really. It’s just that some folks, especially the older Amish, don’t want me interfering in their lives.”

  “Is that what they’ve said?”

  She nodded. “A few, mainly men. The woman are relieved to have a doctor nearby in case their children get sick.”

  Zach glanced out the window. “Do you ever get lonely out here, all by yourself?”

  She hesitated for a moment before she pulled two glasses from the cabinet. “The weekends can be long, although I usually have something that needs attention around the clinic.”

  She filled the glasses before glancing up at him. “What about you? Don’t you ever get lonely?”

  “I wouldn’t call it lonely. Usually I stay busy. If I have some downtime, I head to the gym or go for a jog outside.”

  “You can’t jog all day long.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. After jogging, I shower and leave my BOQ, seeking food. Like a hunter of old, only I don’t have to stalk my prey. It’s usually served at one of the local restaurants. Which,” he said with a smile, “brings us back to my earlier question. Would you like to join me for a meal sometime?” He shrugged. “We can call it a business dinner if we talk about the investigation. If we stick to more general topics, it can be a chance for two people who know each other to connect. Or—” he smiled “—if you’d feel better, we could call it a date.”

  Ella laughed. Her face softened, her eyes sparkled in spite of being tired, and she took on a new lighthearted appearance that he found enchanting. A date would be fun.

  “Is this your normal modus operandi?” she asked.

  “You speak Latin?”

  She nodded. “Most doctors have a good understanding of the language.”

  “I took it in high school,” he admitted.

  “Really?” She seemed surprised.

  “My mother loved biblical Roman times. She died when I was young. Reading the books she treasured and learning the language she had studied allowed me to feel closer to her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Zach shrugged. “We all carry baggage, the hurts and struggles from the past.”

  Ella nodded knowingly. “Would I be correct in assuming that your mother’s death has something to do with your dislike of the medical profession?”

  Not only did the doctor like to talk, she was also perceptive.

  “I thought we were discussing dinner together.”

  She nodded again and turned to ladle the chili into soup bowls. “That’s exactly what we were talking about. Mind if I ask one more question.”

  No telling where she was headed. “Shoot.”

  “Do you invite all the witnesses in your investigations to dine with you?”

  Ella stood at the stove with her back to him, so he couldn’t read her expression. Was she still being frivolous and lighthearted, or had the mention of his mother’s death turned her more pensive?

  Zach regretted the direction their conversation had gone. “Perhaps dinner should wait until the investigation is over.”

  Which made a whole lot more sense than going out when the case was still active. Either way, she was right to have asked the question. Zach didn’t usually socialize with witnesses. Make that never. He had never before gone out with a witness.

  So what made Ella different?

  Turning with a hot soup bowl in hand, she stared at him for half a second before placing the dish on the table.

  Her pretty face and blue eyes looked as perplexed as he felt. Talk about a flood of emotion. Zach prided himself on being a man of action, on not letting his personal life get in the way of anything to do with his job. Yet he’d done exactly that, no matter how much he wanted to think being with Ella wasn’t personal.

  He glanced at the chili she’d set before him and inhaled the rich aroma. “This smells and looks delicious. For me, chili usually comes out of a can. This has homemade written all over it.”

  She smiled and turned back to the stove for her own bowl. “You asked what I do on weekends. Often I cook and then freeze what I fix in smaller containers. That way if I’m busy with patients late into the day, I can eat a nourishing dinner without having to spend time getting everything made.”

  “Smart lady.”

  She turned back and smiled. “You’re an affirming person.”

  He rounded the table and helped her with her chair. “And you’re perceptive,” he said.

  “Which a doctor needs to be.”

  Settling into his seat, Zach thought about what she’d said. “My father was a positive man. Perhaps I learned affirmation from him.”

  She nodded. “He was probably worried about you after your mother died. Sounds like he was a good man who wanted to build up his young son.”

  “He was a good man. I lost him last year. Too young.”

  “Do you have other family?” Ella asked.

  Zach shook his head. “What about you?”

  “An only child. My father’s still alive, but we don’t have much of a relationship. I call h
im at Christmas. He sends a check for my birthday.”

  She glanced down. “The chili’s getting cold.”

  Zach nodded and reached for his spoon, then noticed that she had bowed her head as if offering a blessing.

  When she glanced up, he smiled sheepishly. “I haven’t paused to give thanks before eating since I was a kid. My mother always led us in saying grace before meals. You’ve taken me back.”

  Ella’s expression lightened again and the sparkle returned to her eyes. “The Amish are rubbing off on me. I’m not religious, and I haven’t had much to do with God for years, but their trust in the Lord and the comments they mention about doing His will have made me think about the importance of faith. For your information, research has proved that people of faith have a better chance of surviving a significant illness, such as cancer, than unbelievers.”

  He raised the soup spoon. “So you’re experimenting on yourself?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it in that way. If faith has a positive influence on quality of life, then shouldn’t I attempt to integrate it into my own?”

  She sounded clinical.

  “Doc, you’re talking with your head instead of your heart.” Zach tasted the chili. “My compliments to the chef.”

  “Thanks. My mother worked. I took over the kitchen at a younger age than most of my peers. Cooking was something I could do right.”

  He glanced at her as he enjoyed another spoonful of her chili. He might not be as perceptive as the doc, but he sensed she came with some baggage, too.

  Zach thought of his own past and the pain he still carried. Pain and guilt. Not that he had to go there, especially not tonight. He needed to turn the discussion to mundane matters of little consequence, instead of faith and lonely children who couldn’t find their way.

  The conversation changed to lighthearted chatter that Zach enjoyed. How long had it been since he’d relaxed with a woman? Most of the ones he associated with were army types who talked about military topics, like the guys.

  The doc wasn’t one of the guys, at least not tonight. Maybe in medical circles, when she was spouting facts about the pediatric needs of children, she might seem more focused on her career. Right now, sitting in her warm and welcoming kitchen, eating the hearty chili she had made, took him away from the investigation that had brought them together.