“Nope, not married,” Asa said. “I would like to get home, though. Lots of refinishing work waiting for me.”
“Stand up for me.” With relaxed efficiency, Andy continued to observe Asa’s responses, carefully placing his hands on Asa’s shoulders and midsection. When Asa flinched, the nurse nodded. “It’ll be a while before your ribs stop hurting. Over-the-counter pain relievers and an ice bag should help, but I want you to stay in Willow Ridge at least until Monday morning so I can be sure your brain’s recovering from that jostling it took. Follow my finger with your eyes while you keep your head still.”
Asa’s sigh sounded impatient. “That’s a long time to be away from my shop. And I promised Edith Riehl I’d get to the bottom of this situation with that Gingerich fellow who says I fathered those babies. I can’t do that if I’m stuck here.”
“An honorable excuse, but it won’t fly,” Andy said firmly. “Edith impresses me as a young woman who would want the best for those babies and for you, so work with me, all right? Too many folks who’ve suffered head trauma get into trouble when they don’t rest long enough for their internal injuries to heal.”
Asa closed his eyes, quelling the urge to protest further.
“You know, I’m on my way over there to check on those twins,” Andy said as he put his tools back in his bag. “How about if you walk along with me, and we can see how your horse is doing at Ben’s? The fresh air and exercise will do you gut.”
“And while I appreciate your help, I’m sure you’d rather be out doing something other than my busywork,” Nora chimed in.
Asa’s smile confirmed her assumption. As she watched the two men head for the road at a leisurely pace, Nora wondered if her doubts about Asa were off base. Any fellow his age would champ at the bit if he were being detained—and in pain—after an unidentified buggy driver had gotten him into this fix. She certainly wouldn’t like it if the same sort of accident had happened to her—and she would probably be a lot crankier than Asa.
Nora sat down at her table and wrote out the labels for her new merchandise. Better to be focused on her own business rather than poking her nose into someone else’s.
* * *
“The vet says Midnight will be feisty and fine again in a day or so,” Ben Hooley was saying as Asa stroked his gelding’s broad black neck. “He threw a shoe, so I’ve replaced both of the back ones. Noticed a little tenderness as I worked on him, but that’s to be expected. Mighty fine mount you’ve got here, Asa.”
Asa reveled in the presence of his Percheron, in the horse’s glossy ebony coat and the bunching of his muscles as he shifted his feet. Midnight was glad to see him, too, and had displayed only a slight limp when Asa had walked the gelding around Ben’s corral a couple of times. Innate understanding shone in those intelligent brown eyes as he nuzzled Asa’s palm.
“Jah, he’s got a steady head and disposition—which tells me the buggy that spooked him had to have passed us awfully close and fast,” Asa said. He felt worse about his horse’s being hurt than he did about his own injuries.
Ben considered this, and asked the obvious question. “Ya didn’t hear it comin’ up behind ya, then?”
Asa let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t actually recall the accident—”
“And that’s normal, right after a bad bump to your head,” Andy put in.
“—but I must’ve been thinking about something else, not paying attention,” Asa continued with a shake of his head. “I’ve wondered about it a lot, but nothing comes back to me. It’s not like a horse-drawn buggy sneaks up on anyone.”
“For me, the bothersome part is that the driver didn’t stop to help ya,” Ben said. “We might never know who was responsible.”
Asa shrugged, because he’d considered that possibility. “Without anybody to pin the blame on, I’m better off just moving forward. Once Andy says my head’s on straight again, I’ll go home and get back to work.”
As Ben and Andy chuckled, Asa realized he owed the farrier some money . . . and that all his cash had gone home with Edith. He didn’t care to let on about how pleased he was to have an excuse to see her this morning—or about how she’d snatched up his clothes when they’d been alone together. As a preacher, Ben might find that detail inappropriate, and Asa didn’t want him or anyone else getting the wrong idea. “How much do I owe you for those horseshoes, plus the vet’s bill?” he asked. “I’ll bring you the money when I—”
The farrier waved him off. “I’m happy to put those shoes on for ya so you’ll get home safely and ya won’t have a bad impression of our little town after your accident. We look after folks here.”
Asa’s jaw dropped. “But a vet charges just for showing up, before he even sees the animal.”
“I had the vet here lookin’ at one of my mares anyway,” Ben insisted. Then he shrugged, a smile lighting his friendly face. “And maybe someday there’s a favor you can do for me, jah? Or better yet, next time ya see somebody in a tight spot, maybe you’ll lend him or her a hand. The Lord loves a cheerful giver.”
“These Willow Ridge folks are big on paying it forward,” Andy remarked. “Not so long ago I was a divorced English fellow looking to join the Plain faith and this community because I’d found the love of my life here—and she was Amish.”
“His Rhoda is my Miriam’s daughter, you see,” Ben explained. “We had to be very sure this man was sincere in his intentions and his faith.”
“I had to prove myself more than most men would,” Andy agreed with a fond smile. “Yet this town has made me and my family very welcome. It’s a blessing to care for these people, and to see my kids going to school here—growing up in a community that relies upon God and puts Him first.”
Asa and Andy took their leave of Preacher Ben, and continued on to the Riehls’ place. They walked at a leisurely pace along the county blacktop, which allowed Asa time to consider what he’d just learned about the local nurse who’d rescued him along the roadside yesterday.
He knew of communities where English men would’ve been shut out before a romance had had a chance to develop with a local girl—not to mention church leaders who wouldn’t have allowed Andy to practice his medical profession after he’d been baptized into the Amish church. The fact that Willow Ridge had accepted a divorced man was the most radical aspect of Andy Leitner’s past, however, because the Old Order counted folks who’d left their mates as adulterers—and the church didn’t allow anyone to remarry unless their previous spouse had died. The way Willow Ridge had accepted Andy spoke of a deep forgiveness the likes of which Asa hadn’t encountered before.
“What do you recall about the guy who brought the twins to Willow Ridge, apparently looking for help from the Riehl girls because he knew them?” Andy asked as the white house with the dogwood trees came into view.
Asa sensed the question was as much a test of his memory as it was curiosity on the nurse’s part. “I’d never seen him before—or his wife,” Asa added emphatically. “But Edith knew him and didn’t bat an eye before agreeing to take in his kids. Except he swears up and down that they’re my kids.”
Andy’s eyes widened. “How’d you find out about the babies, then?”
“Got a message on my machine, saying my name was the last thing his wife uttered before she died.”
“Wow,” Andy murmured. “Any chance he got the wrong phone number?”
“Oh, no, it was my first name he said—and when he mentioned he was bringing the babies to Willow Ridge until he could get things straightened out,” Asa continued in a rising voice, “I saddled Midnight and rode up here straightaway to find out what was going on.”
Nodding, Andy slowed their pace a bit. “What else can you tell me about this guy? I hate to ask a lot of embarrassing questions once we get to the Riehl place.”
Asa gathered his thoughts, hoping to remain objective. “His name’s Will Gingerich, and he lives outside of Roseville—the town where the Riehls lived before they moved here,” Asa recounted.
“He told me he was once engaged to the middle Riehl sister—Loretta, I think her name is—but her dat broke it off, and then Will married some gal named Molly. She was apparently pregnant before they tied the knot, but she didn’t tell him that part. Somewhere along the line, she got cancer.”
“Oh, my.” Andy thought about this, stopping at the end of the Riehl lane. “Now that Will is widowed—with two babies who supposedly aren’t his—I wonder if he’ll try to rekindle his romance with Loretta? You’re doing a fine job of recalling these details, by the way,” Andy added. “But let’s not get into this complicated relationship story while we’re here, all right? I just want to be sure the babies are healthy and that the Riehls are handling the situation. It must be a major adjustment to suddenly have two babies in the house.”
“Edith was a saint,” Asa murmured. “She heard the babies crying and came to see about them while Will and I were arguing. And she informed us that the babies’ needs were far more important than our loud, upsetting talk—and then she agreed to take them in until Will could bury his wife and deal with Molly’s family. No questions asked. I was amazed.”
Andy smiled as he gazed toward the Riehls’ tidy white house. “I don’t know this family well because they’ve only lived here a month or so, but I like what you’re telling me,” he said. “The twins are in gut hands—and I’ve heard that Lydia Zook has organized the women, taking donations of baby clothes and equipment and such.”
Asa was once again astonished at the immediate, unconditional generosity the people of Willow Ridge had displayed. When the front door opened and a young woman stepped onto the porch carrying a basket in each hand, his pulse lurched. It was Edith, and behind her came another young woman with baby bottles. “We’ve arrived in time for lunch,” he said with a chuckle.
“A picnic on the porch, by the looks of it,” Andy remarked. He returned the other Riehl girl’s wave and bright smile. “Shall we make our visit?”
Asa was already walking down the lane, his eyes on Edith as she set the baskets down and settled in the porch swing. Behind the house he saw laundry flapping in the gentle breeze and recognized his own turquoise shirt among a number of gray ones, and dresses in shades of blue, green, and purple. Once again he admired Edith. She’d washed his clothing without any concern that it didn’t fit in with the darker shirts and pants—though some neighbor ladies would notice that and wonder what was going on. He felt a puppy-dog eagerness as he got closer to the house.
“Gut morning, ladies!” Andy called out as they approached the porch. “At first glance, it appears all is well with you and the twins.”
Edith grinned. “It’s going a lot better now that Nazareth’s brought us fresh goat milk.”
“Jah, they’re slurping it down,” her sister chimed in. “They’re so much happier; we’re guessing the store-bought formula was upsetting their tummies and making them fussy.”
“Nazareth’s told us to dilute the milk with distilled water, about one part water to two parts milk,” Edith said to the nurse. “Are we doing it right?”
Leitner nodded as he observed the babies in their baskets, waving their little arms and legs. “That’s the ratio I’ve heard other Plain ladies speak of. I can check on that when I get back to the clinic and let you know if I find anything different.”
Asa had been happy to let Andy initiate the conversation; at this moment he couldn’t have talked if he wanted to. What a picture Edith made, sitting in the white wooden swing with a baby cradled in her arm as she held its bottle. She seemed determined not to meet his gaze, yet the pretty roses in her cheeks suggested she was aware of his presence . . . and trying not to let on that she was glad to see him. Or at least he wanted to believe that.
“Asa, you’re looking much better than you did when Rosalyn and I caught a glimpse of you in the clinic yesterday. I’m Loretta, by the way,” she added. She was holding the other baby, making the feeding process look effortless as she and Edith gently moved the swing forward and back.
“Hi, Loretta,” Asa said. “I’m feeling a lot better, too. Denki for your concern.”
“Oh, lots of folks are concerned,” she replied quickly. “The story about you and Will and these babies was all the talk at the wedding dinner yesterday—until Nazareth came to fetch Andy because she’d found you unconscious on the roadside. Then your story had everyone chattering.”
Asa glanced at Edith, and any sort of reply flew out of his head. Her eyes sparkled, big and brown, as she gazed at him. Soon she set aside the empty bottle, draped a small towel over her shoulder, and stood up to walk as though she’d cared for dozens of babies.
“See how calm and content we are today?” she murmured as she approached him, swaying and patting the baby’s back. “Much better than when we first met, jah? Louisa, say hi to Asa.”
“Louisa?”
“Jah, and her brother is Leroy,” Loretta said as she, too, stood up and began to burp the baby she held. “I can’t for the life of me imagine how anyone could drop these babies off like so much dirty laundry—but we’re glad Will dropped them with us.”
“Sounds like a complicated situation all around,” Andy remarked as he walked behind Edith to study the baby on her shoulder. “I thought I should take a look at them to be sure they don’t need medical attention—what with their mother passing on and all.”
“Such a sad story, that she died of cancer,” Edith murmured. “I’ve prayed that God will guide us all to the right answers and the truth—for the truth will set us free,” she added softly.
Asa blinked. What had Edith meant by quoting that particular Bible verse and in such a wistful way? Did she suspect Gingerich had toyed with the facts to convince her and her sisters to care for these kids?
Or does she wonder if you’re the one who’s not being totally honest?
Before Asa thought about what he was doing, he opened his arms, and after a moment—and the rise of her eyebrows—Edith carefully placed the tiny girl in the crook of his arm. His reaction to the baby’s warm, solid weight took him completely by surprise. Asa swallowed hard and couldn’t stop gazing into Louisa’s little face. When the baby began to squawk, Edith put her towel on Asa’s shoulder.
“Hold her upright, like—”
It seemed the natural thing to do, and Asa was rewarded with a belch that made everyone on the porch chuckle. Andy had taken Leroy to look him over, his hips swaying in a rhythm that seemed to come naturally.
“Did I hear correctly that these kids are right at six months?” Andy asked.
“Jah, born October tenth, Will said,” Edith replied as she tweaked Leroy’s nose.
“They’re both smaller than I’d like,” the nurse remarked as he peered into the boy’s ears, “but I believe they’ll catch up. I’m glad you’ve switched them to goat milk. Formula’s outrageously expensive, and some newborns don’t tolerate it well.”
“Nazareth’s timing was perfect, too,” Edith remarked as she watched Asa and Louisa. “I can return the unopened can of powder to the market—and we won’t have Dat asking us how much all this is costing him.”
“Where is your dat?” Andy asked, glancing through the screen door. “Hi, Rosalyn!”
“Gut morning, Andy!” she replied as she appeared with a plate of cookies. “Isn’t this a fine scene, with the babies fed and happy, and everyone paying attention to them? The goat milk is a blessing—and our supply’s right next door. Life is gut. God is gut.”
Was it his imagination, or had Edith and her sisters ignored Andy’s question? Asa had a feeling their father didn’t approve of the circumstances surrounding these babies, and he probably didn’t relish the crying and the diapers and the change in his family’s schedule, either.
Edith helped herself to a warm chocolate-chip cookie and then took another one, smiling up at Asa. “Dat went to Kansas City early this morning to buy replacement parts for the clocks he makes and repairs.” Smiling demurely, she held a cookie an inch away from Asa’s mouth, s
ilently coaxing him to bite into it. “He won’t be back until this evening.”
Why did her father’s absence make Asa feel like a fox come to visit the henhouse? The aromas of warm sugar and chocolate chips were more than he could resist. As he closed his mouth over the cookie, his eyelids lowered and his lips brushed Edith’s fingertips. With everyone looking on, he couldn’t give in to the urge to lick the melted chocolate off her fingers, but every nerve in his body was vibrating—every inch of his skin warmed as he met her gaze.
Get a grip. Her sisters are watching—and so is Leitner.
Even so, Edith held his gaze for another long moment before turning the cookie so Asa could take the rest of it into his mouth. He couldn’t help noticing how her green dress complemented her complexion and her brown eyes, and how crisp and white her kapp appeared against her dark, parted hair.
“Denki,” he murmured, turning to smile at the sister with the cookie plate. “Fabulous cookies, Rosalyn,” he remarked. “In my opinion, homemade cookies are the perfect remedy for whatever ails you. I feel so much better now!”
Everyone on the porch laughed as they ate their own cookies, but Asa had a feeling they were taking mental notes—honing in on the sparks he and Edith had just created as they stood so close together. Rosalyn sniffed the air and then hurried toward the door. “Better get the next pan of cookies out of the oven! Nothing smells worse than something that’s been burnt.”
Loretta let out a short laugh. “Well, there’s the dis-stink -tive aroma of dirty diapers,” she countered. “I need to soak several of those before the fumes get too noticeable.”
“Jah, Dat’s not crazy about that part of having babies around,” Edith said as the door closed behind her sister. She looked up at Asa again. “Even though I truly love caring for the twins, I hope you and Will figure out who fathered them—but you’ve got to take care of your own injuries, of course.”
For a moment, Asa couldn’t remember what those injuries were. “I promised you I’d do that, and it’s my top priority when I get home,” he murmured. “You seem very comfortable with the twins. They couldn’t possibly have a better mother.”
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