by Kelly Long
Luke’s jaw clenched. Would the bishop reprimand him? “They’ve been kind to me.”
“She is a hardworking widow, and I suspect it is difficult to make ends meet at times. Her late husband was a gut man. Aaron Lantz had a quick wit and a gut sense of humor. I enjoyed his company.”
Why was he worried? He and Charity had done nothing wrong. The kinner were present anytime they were together. He bit his lip. The guilt came from his heart racing at the mention of her name. There was a spark there the first moment they met, but he’d pushed the attraction from his mind. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. Josiah and Beth had touched on the subject of their daed. He hadn’t wanted to pry, but he wanted to learn more about Aaron. “What did he do for work?”
“He carved handles for knives, miniature toys, and different-sized building and hanging pegs. He sold them and earned a gut living. His friends helped him do chores, and he hired a man to farm his land and split the profits. Aaron said he was sick a lot as a child and had bouts of illness often as an adult. He was a gentle soul loved by his family and friends.”
From what the bishop had told him, he would have liked Aaron. How sad his kinner wouldn’t be able to ask him questions, learn from his talents, and enjoy his company. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet him.”
“You do not have a fraa. Maybe you should consider Charity for a potential fraa. You and she are not getting any younger.”
Luke cleared his throat and blinked a few times. The bishop was far from shy. He shuffled his feet and stared at the floor. “She’s a gut woman, but I’m not interested in finding a fraa.” He headed for the door. “I’d better get to work before we run out of daylight.”
The bishop passed him his coat and hat. “Consider my suggestion. You would not want another man to snatch Charity away.”
Halfway out the door, Luke pushed his arms through his coat sleeves and placed his hat on his head. He couldn’t leave the bishop fast enough. The man meant well, but he had pushed the issue far enough. The hairs on his neck prickled as he considered the bishop’s words. How would he react if another man showed interest in Charity? His head began to pound. He barely knew her, but he wouldn’t like it one bit. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her sweet voice and beautiful face out of his mind, as well as the faces of her kinner.
He flexed his gloved hands, strode to his wagon, and lifted out a new wood plank. The bishop’s words rolled over in his mind. He shivered and pounded the nails into the new wood on the porch step, then bounced his feet on it. Sturdy, it would hold much better.
Footsteps crunched the snow behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and fought to hide the irritation welling inside. He had chores to finish at home, and Charity wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss any further with the bishop. “You didn’t have to come outside. I’d have come in to bid you farewell.”
The bishop’s red cheeks dimpled. He pressed coins in Luke’s gloved hand. “I needed fresh air and to stretch my legs. I’ve been inside too long.” He studied Luke’s work. “I’ve been watching you. You do fine work. I appreciate your coming out today.”
Luke swallowed. A pang of remorse rushed through him. The man was gracious. He passed the coins back to the man. “I appreciate your willingness to pay me, but I’m happy to help you.” He put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Several of your friends told me you have been spreading the word I’m a handyman. Danki.”
The bishop shoved his hands in his pockets. “I like to help young Amish men find work. It strengthens our community.”
“Danki. You go inside and get warm.”
“All right, but remember what I said.”
Uh-oh, he’d better dash off quick before the bishop cornered him about Charity again. Luke waved and quickened his pace. He climbed in the wagon and headed home. Would the bishop mention his idea to her? He hoped not. He wouldn’t want any awkwardness between them.
Charity sat in church next to Josiah and Beth on Sunday. She searched for Luke. He must have arrived early. He sat in the third bench on the other side across from her. The sight of him sent her heart in a spin. Like her late husband, Luke had ignited a fire in her. What was it about him? He had chopped and stockpiled wood for her, brought her food, and paid attention to Josiah and Beth, but those weren’t the reasons she couldn’t put him out of her mind. She liked his voice, neat appearance, and energetic way of living.
He’d joined them for supper almost every day for three weeks. On the days he hadn’t joined them, she missed him. She wished he’d open up more about his life in Lancaster. Had he ever been married or even considered a fraa? Surely he wanted kinner. He’d gone out of his way to entertain Josiah and Beth.
Bishop Weaver lifted his Ausbund. “Please join me in lifting your hymnals and turning to page five.”
She lifted the book and flipped the pages. She shook her head a little and chastised herself. Her mind should be on the service and not on Luke, but his face popped into her mind when she least expected it.
The bishop led them in a song, then requested they kneel while he recited the Lord’s Prayer. He raised his head and asked everyone to sit.
In his sermon he reminded them they should seek God’s will for their lives and in each situation they encountered. She stared at her Bible. What would God have in store for her this year?
An hour and a half later, the bishop asked, “Luke Fisher, please join me at the front.”
Luke joined the bishop, and the man prayed over him aloud. She found it hard to concentrate. A thrill coursed through her bones. This meant that Luke had grown roots in Berlin. She’d feared someone or something in his past would pull him back to Lancaster, until now.
The bishop’s request to join him in prayer again jerked her out of her thoughts. The bishop asked Luke questions about his belief in God and his commitment to obeying God and the Amish law. Luke answered each question.
“Does anyone here object to Luke joining our membership?” The bishop waited. “Men, raise your hands to accept Luke into the fold.”
“Luke, you’ve received a unanimous vote. Wilkom.”
Luke stared right at her and smiled. Her cheeks warmed.
Josiah and Beth waved to him. He waved back and grinned.
After the bishop said a few more words and prayed, he dismissed the members for the after-service meal.
Josiah and Beth tugged Luke’s hand. “Come sit by us.”
Charity approached him. “You’re officially one of us now. Congratulations.”
Men and women crowded around them to wilkom him. Charity noticed mamms introducing their dechder to him. She tightened her lips and stared at the pretty young women fawning over Luke. She had been silly. Why would he be interested in her when he could wed a younger woman who had no kinner? She gestured for her kinner to join her.
She glanced over her shoulder to Luke. “We’ll go prepare for the meal.”
She smoothed her black plain dress and righted her kapp. She stole glances at Luke, dressed in his black pants, suspenders, and a crisp white shirt as she uncovered her dishes. Relief washed over her. He’d joined a group of men. He had no problem making conversation. Setting the table, she turned her back to him. His laughter rang in her ears. She paused and recognized the pleasant sound right away. Her cheeks grew warm. His voice and laugh had become familiar. She couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but she cared about him. She put a hand to her throat. It scared her a little but excited her more. He approached her.
“I fixed you a plate.” She slid it over to him.
“Danki.”
Josiah and Beth separated. Josiah patted the spot next to him. “Sit here, Luke.”
She thought her heart would melt at his smile as he sat between her kinner. He’d joined her and the kinner, and not any of the other available women who were staring at him. She smoothed her cloth napkin on her lap and closed her eyes for a moment. She must stop swooning over him. He treated her like a schweschder. She raised her spoon to
her mouth but lowered it. She sat and listened to him chat with Josiah and Beth. He would be perfect for a husband and daed for her kinner. He was the first man she’d considered a potential husband since the untimely death of her beloved Aaron. He’d not broached the subject or even hinted at it. She wouldn’t want to pry.
She closed her eyes. “Dear Heavenly Father, did You send Luke here for us? I don’t know what Your purpose is for bringing Luke into our lives, but danki for him. Give me the right words to say to Luke to make him comfortable to encourage him to open up to me. I praise You and danki for Your mercy, grace, and power. Amen.”
A week later on Saturday, a loud scream pierced the air outside. Josiah. Charity tossed the Amish doll she’d been stitching on the chair and opened the door.
Beth ushered her bruder inside the haus. Her face paled. “Josiah’s hurt real bad. I’m scared.”
Charity rushed over to him. “What’s wrong?” He held his right hand with his left hand. Blood flowed down his arm, dripped from his elbow, and stained the floor red. Chills coursed through her.
His face drained of color, and tears stained his cheeks. “It hurts. It hurts.”
Charity knelt and held Josiah’s arms. She willed herself to stay strong. “Can you show me where you hurt yourself?”
Knock, knock. Beth answered the door. “Luke, Josiah hurt his finger.” She opened the door.
“His scream startled me. What happened?” He hurried over to Charity and Josiah.
Charity’s lips quivered. “I’m worried sick about him.” She turned to Josiah. “Sweetheart, can you show me?” She heaved a big breath. She had to find the strength to handle whatever he was about to show her. This wasn’t the time to faint.
Josiah removed one finger at a time. His last little finger hung to the side, and he cried and held it.
Gasping, her heart thudded against her chest. Dizzy, she grabbed the back of the settee and steadied herself. Her vision blurred, and she blinked to regain her composure. Her precious child’s little finger had been cut off, except for a few threads of tissue still intact. She stood and grabbed a clean cloth and wrapped it around his hand. “How did this happen?”
Beth circled her arm around Josiah’s shoulders. Tears wet her face. “We were in the barn jumping off haystacks, and then Josiah wanted to play hide-and-seek. I found him behind the trunk in the corner. He ran out of the barn and when he closed the door, he caught his finger in it.”
Charity grimaced and gently held Josiah. The impact must’ve have been shocking and painful. She moaned. “Josiah, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
Luke opened the door. “Let’s take him in my wagon to Dr. Harris. He’ll know what to do.”
Josiah’s lips quivered. “It hurts, Luke.” He rested his head on Luke’s leg and sobbed.
Luke scooped him up in his arms and rubbed his back. “You poor child. Try to relax. I’ll carry you.” He faced Charity. “My horse is already hitched to the wagon.”
Charity’s mamm crossed the yard taking slow steps. “Who screamed? Is everything all right?”
Charity said, “Josiah hurt his finger. Luke’s taking us to the doctor. You haven’t been feeling well. You need to go back inside and rest. I’ll let you know how Josiah is when we return.”
“All right, sweetheart.” Her mamm turned to go back inside her haus.
Charity followed Luke and climbed in the wagon. He passed Josiah to her, and she held him on her lap.
Beth sat close and tenderly stroked his cheek, whispering words of comfort.
Minutes later, Luke pulled the wagon in front of the doctor’s office, jumped out and lifted Josiah from Charity’s arms, and ran inside to Dr. Harris’s office.
Beth followed on his heels.
Charity grabbed the reins and secured the horse to the hitching post. He’d left her to tend to the horse. She couldn’t stand being away from her son at a time like this. She hurried to run inside. Dr. Harris already had his spectacles halfway on his nose, peering at Josiah’s bloody hand.
“Ouch! It hurts.” Josiah pulled back.
She swayed, caught a chair, and fell into it. She closed her eyes a moment and put her hand in her lap. The raw tissue, blood, and gaping wound flooded her mind. Fighting waves of nausea, she swallowed over and over.
Luke sat next to her. “Are you all right? Would you like some air? I’ll stay next to Josiah and Beth.”
“I’m embarrassed and ashamed. I should be comforting Josiah, but instead, I’m fighting to sit in this chair and not pass out. I’ve never been able to look upon blood or wounds and not get sick. You must think I’m terrible.”
He had done the right thing by rushing Josiah inside and leaving her to secure the horse. She had a hard enough time keeping herself upright.
“No, you’re a sympathetic and compassionate woman. You can’t stand to watch your son in pain. I understand.”
His concern and empathy touched her. The more she learned about this man, the more she liked him.
The doctor approached Charity. “I’ll take your son to the exam room. My nurse will assist me. The room is not large enough for your whole family to join us. You will need to wait here.”
She bit her tongue and drew Beth to her. The man was void of emotion. She watched Josiah’s back until the door shut behind him. Her heart thudded against her chest. She should be in there next to Josiah. She stood but slumped into the chair again. She wouldn’t want to anger the doctor. She had frequented the Englischer’s office often to seek his help for Aaron more than once. He had treated the kinner for minor cuts before, but his bedside manner had been professional and nothing more.
Josiah might relax more if she were in the room. She fingered the corner of her scarf. His stiff personality aside, she considered the man a gut doctor. She trembled and circled her arm around her dochder. She whispered a prayer to God concerning Josiah, and Beth leaned against her.
Luke said, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you with whatever you need for Josiah’s care. I can handle blood and wounds. My animals have suffered injuries, and I’ve cared for them.”
What a relief. “Mamm usually helps me if Josiah or Beth hurts themselves. She understands my reaction to such things, but she’s not been well lately. I wouldn’t want to trouble her. I’ll take you up on your offer. I really appreciate it. Danki.”
Josiah’s pitiful scream rang out.
She jerked, cringed, and tears dripped onto her cheeks. She stood but sat again.
Beth’s tearstained face looked up at her. “I’m scared for Josiah.”
“I am, too, but the doctor knows what’s best for him.”
Luke pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it to Beth. “I’m having a difficult time listening to Josiah’s painful cries. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you. I wish I could say or do something to make this easier for you and your mamm.”
Having him next to her and Beth eased the pain of the terrible accident a little. She drew strength from him. He had been such an unexpected blessing in her and the kinner’s lives.
He removed his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “Sitting here is unnerving.”
Minutes passed, and she stared at the exam room door and rubbed Beth’s back.
“Enough is enough.” He rapped on the examination room door. “Dr. Harris, please tell us something.”
Beth gripped her mamm’s arm and stared at Luke.
Charity sat on the edge of her seat.
The nurse opened the door. “Give us a few more minutes. The doctor’s almost done stitching his wound, and then you can take him home.”
She wiped tears streaming down her cheeks. How long was this going to take? Her heart ached for Josiah. Time passed slowly during a time like this. She glanced at Luke as he took a seat beside her, and his worried look and inability to sit still touched her. No doubt he loved Josiah.
She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. She bowed her head. “Dear Heavenly Father,
please forgive me wherein I’ve failed You today. Please comfort Josiah and take away his pain. Give him strength to overcome this injury. All these things I ask and pray in Your name. Amen.”
Luke whispered, “Amen.”
The doctor opened the door and gestured them to enter. “He should be waking any minute. I put him to sleep for the time it took to amputate his finger and stitch the wound. It couldn’t be saved.”
The doctor’s insensitive words sent a chill through her. Her knees buckled, and she fell against the wall. Her son had lost his little finger on the hand he favored most. “How will he write or use his hand?”
Dr. Harris crossed the room and opened a cabinet door. He removed medication and supplies, then returned to her. “Have him exercise his hand and fingers several times a day. He should practice picking up and holding small objects. These tasks will be easier once the bandage on the wound is removed. Encourage him and teach him to write with his other hand.” He passed her packets of aspirin powder and supplies. “Have him keep the hand elevated and take one teaspoon of medication followed by a glass of water as needed for pain every four hours. Change the bandages each day. If the wound should become infected, come to my office immediately. Bring him back here in a week or so, and I’ll remove the stitches.”
The elderly man’s cold eyes and harsh voice set her teeth on edge. Did he ever show emotion to his family? The man showed no compassion for her son. She just wanted to go home and get out of this place and away from this man.
Josiah blinked his half-open eyelids. “Mamm, I wanna go home.”
The doctor helped him up. “Take it easy for the next few days. No jumping around.”
Luke carried him to his wagon. “Josiah, I’m going to help your mamm take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing. Star and I will visit you each day.” He rubbed the child’s back and pressed his cheek against Josiah’s.