by Beth Wiseman
But his younger brother was at work and Anna Mae was at the hospital doing her job. Amos rubbed a grubby hand over his face, then did what he always did when he was upset. He closed his eyes and prayed.
“Amos . . .”
His father’s voice sounded a little louder than a whisper. Yet Amos didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t until he knew what to do. Stop the bleeding.
He opened his eyes, then yanked off his shirt. He moved his father’s hands away from his leg.
“Don’t,” his daed said. “It’s bad, sohn.”
But Amos ignored him as he looked down at the ripped fabric of his father’s work pants. His thoughts were clear now, his movements automatic. The blood had soaked through his father’s pants, and Amos saw part of an open wound through the torn material. His stomach steadied as he wrapped his shirt around Daed’s shin, then tied the fabric tightly. “Stop the bleeding . . . Stop the bleeding.” He didn’t understand how tying the shirt over his father’s leg would work; he only knew that it would. He swooped Daed up into his arms and hurried across the field, through the backyard, and into the house.
“Judith!” Amos cried out for his stepmother as he ran into the kitchen.
Judith was mopping the floor and she looked up from her work. “Goodness, Amos, what’s—” Her face turned the color of new fallen snow. “Dear Gott.” She dropped the mop and went to Amos. “What happened?”
“Accident,” was all Amos could say.
“Lay him on the table,” she said, her voice calmer than Amos thought possible.
Amos did as he was told. He always tried to follow directions the best he could. He set his father on the polished oak table, then stepped back and let his stepmother take over. Amos’s chest moved up and down as he tried to catch his breath. Sweat fell into his eyes, but he couldn’t stop looking at his father. Judith untied Amos’s shirt from around Daed’s leg.
“You don’t want to be here, Amos.” Judith sounded different now. Worried. Afraid. Judith was never afraid. Amos’s thoughts became jumbled and confused again. She sounded like Amos felt inside.
“I’m okay . . . I’m okay.” Amos lifted his chin and refused to move. He was twenty-eight years old. Time for him to be a man and not a scared kin. “I can help.”
“Grab some towels out of the drawer.” Judith winced at the sound of Daed’s moan. “And a bowl. Fill it with water.”
Amos did what Judith told him to do, then he heard her speak to Daed in that soft voice that always made his father smile.
“I’m here, David,” she said. “Everything will be all right.”
When Amos turned around, the bowl of water in his hands and the kitchen towels over his shoulder, he saw Judith brush his father’s damp hair off his forehead. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Daed. She loved him too much.
He handed the bowl to her and she set it on the table. “I need scissors,” she said. “I’ve got to cut off the leg of his pants.”
Amos took the edge of his father’s pants leg and ripped it up the seam. That would be faster than getting scissors. But when he saw his father’s bleeding leg, Amos’s head felt like air again.
“Amos?”
The room turned like a merry-go-round. He used to ride those at the park when he was younger. It had been fun. But the spinning wasn’t fun now.
“It’s all right, Amos,” Judith said. “You did a gut job. I don’t need yer help anymore.”
“Will Daed be okay?”
Judith nodded. “Ya. But why don’t you geh outside and pray for him anyway?”
“Okay. I’ll pray for him . . . I’ll pray for him.” He hurried out of the kitchen and into the driveway. His stomach hurt and he felt like he had the flu. He bent over and put his hands on his legs. “Don’t throw up . . . Don’t throw up . . .”
“A-are y-you o-okay?”
Surprised, he lifted his head at the nice voice. A girl’s voice. No, a woman’s voice. And although he was always forgetting things, he recognized her right away. She was Judith’s niece. He had met her at his daed’s wedding. She must be here for her visit. Judith had said she was coming. Suddenly his stomach didn’t hurt as much. “Hello,” he said, standing up. “Hello, Dinah Keim.”
Chapter Three
Dinah’s breath caught when she saw Amos Mullet in the driveway of her aunt and uncle’s house. She remembered meeting him at the wedding. But she had been so self-conscious that she spent most of that day hiding upstairs in Aenti Judith’s old house, which was next door. She met his gaze. He’d said hello, and while the words were normal, she could see something wasn’t right.
“Uh-oh.” He bent over again.
Forgetting herself, she went to his side. “A-Amos?”
He held up his hand. Swallowed. Then straightened. She noticed the color coming back into his cheeks. She also noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Under normal circumstances she had trouble finding her voice. But even if she were the smoothest talker alive, she wouldn’t have been able to speak. He was at least half a foot taller than her, with wild-looking, longish brown hair, and rich, mahogany-colored eyes. She couldn’t stop her gaze from sweeping across the expanse of his muscular torso before she turned her head away. She shouldn’t be staring at him.
Then she felt his hand on her shoulder and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at him again. His eyes were warm and not as bewildered as they had been before. “Don’t move, Dinah Keim.”
Her brow furrowed as he sprinted inside, moving swiftly for a man of his size. Then she heard an agonized cry from inside the house.
Without thinking, she opened the door and dashed inside. Another harrowing moan came from the back of the house, and she followed it until she was in the kitchen. There she saw David, Judith’s husband, lying on the table, writhing in pain. Her aunt was tending to his leg. When Dinah saw the gash and the blood-soaked towels, she went to her aunt’s side. A sudden calm went through her, the way it did when she saw one of her beloved pets injured.
“What can I do?”
Aenti Judith glanced at her. Her eyes rounded with surprise behind her wire-rimmed glasses, then returned to their former concentration. “He needs stitches. Lots of them. We’re too far from a hospital.”
“I can do it,” Dinah said. It wouldn’t be the first time she had stitched up a wound, although the patient had been another one of her cats, Fido, and the wound had been short and not as deep. Still, Dinah knew she could handle David’s injury. “Do you have a first-aid kit?”
Judith nodded.
“I’ll keep pressure on this while you geh get it.” Completely engrossed in her task, she took over and pressed the blood-soaked compress on David’s leg as her aunt left the kitchen.
Aenti Judith came back moments later with a large kit. Her mother also had a huge first-aid kit at home. Raising six children, five of them boys, it had come in handy more than a few times.
“I need to wash mei hands before I start stitching,” Dinah said. As she passed David on her way to the sink, she saw his eyes close. He was on the verge of becoming unconscious, which might be a blessing considering how much pain he was in. Or he could be going into shock. Dinah quickly washed her hands and went back to the table. “He needs blankets,” she said. “And something for the pain.”
While her aunt was gone, Dinah went to work. She had finished irrigating the wound when Amos burst into the room, a shirt untucked from his dark blue broadfall pants and hanging a little crookedly over his wide shoulders.
“Amos,” Aenti Judith said as she came in carrying the blankets, “call Jeremiah.”
“I did. Before I came in here. But I put a shirt on first. Then I went to the phone box. A nice lady answered the phone.”
Dinah kept her focus on the wound, but she also noticed the simplistic way Amos was speaking.
“What did she say, Amos?” Aenti Judith’s normally placid voice was edged with impatience.
“She said Jeremiah is out. But she’s gonna call
him.”
“Did you tell her it was an emergency?”
“Ya. I told her Daed was hurt bad.” He paused. “He’s hurt real bad, ya?”
Her aunt laid the blankets over David’s torso. “Ya. He is.”
Amos moved to stand next to Dinah. “Can you fix him?”
“I-I c-can . . .” Oh no. A moment ago she felt in complete control of the situation. With one earnest question, she was faltering. She glanced up at Amos and saw tears shining in his eyes. She had to get her wits about her. “I-I will try m-mei b-best.”
“Okay. Trying is gut. I’m always trying.”
He was so open and honest that she almost smiled. Then she put all her concentration into stitching up David.
Nearly an hour later, Dinah cleaned the blood off David’s skin. She wiped the back of her hand over her damp forehead and checked her work. The stitches were neat and even. David was still unconscious, and Judith tucked the old, faded quilt around his chin.
“You saved his life,” Aenti Judith whispered.
Dinah looked at her uncle. His eyes were closed and his skin looked gray. But at least he wasn’t bleeding anymore. She started to say something to her aunt, only to see Amos staring at her hands. Dinah glanced down at her palms. They were covered in blood. When she looked up at Amos, she noticed he was turning green again.
“You can geh outside, Amos.” Aenti Judith put her hand on his shoulder. “Yer vatter is going to be okay, and Jeremiah will be here soon.”
“I can’t,” Amos said, his hand covering his stomach. “I can’t leave him.”
“Amos.” Judith’s voice turned soft. “If you pass out, how are we going to get you back up? You’re too big for me and Dinah to lift.”
Amos nodded. “Okay. I’ll geh.”
After Amos left, Dinah went to the sink and washed her hands. She remembered that Amos’s brother, Jeremiah, was a vet, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. At least there was someone here who could make sure she had done a good enough job stitching David’s leg.
She dried her hands and turned around to see David stirring. By the time she reached the table he was trying to get up, only to fall back against the table with a growl of pain.
“Stay still,” Aenti Judith said. “You don’t want to break yer stitches.”
“Need . . . to check on Amos.”
“He’s fine. He’s outside waiting on Jeremiah. And as soon as he arrives you’re going to the hospital.”
David shook his head. “Nee. Nee hospitals. I’ll be fine. Just a little cut—”
“That took almost two dozen stitches.” Aenti Judith’s lower lip trembled. “You will not argue with me, David Mullet.”
Glowering, David turned his head away. With a sigh, Aenti Judith said, “Dinah, do you mind checking on Amos? I’m sure he’s fine, but it might help if he wasn’t alone.”
Dinah nodded, eager to leave the tension of the kitchen. Although it was warm outside, she welcomed the fresh air. Amos was pacing along the driveway, muttering to himself. As she neared, she could make out what he was saying.
“Where is Jeremiah? Where is Jeremiah?” He shoved a beefy hand through his hair. “Should have called an ambulance . . . Should have called an ambulance . . . Should have called Anna Mae . . . Should have called Anna Mae . . .”
She went to his side. He was working himself up and she had to calm him down. He was already halfway down the driveway.
“Messed everything up . . . Messed everything up . . .”
Then before she reached him he stopped and closed his eyes. He was perfectly still, even while a faint breeze kicked up around him. His lips started to move and she realized he was praying. She started to back away when he opened his eyes and turned toward her.
“Hello, Dinah Keim.”
“I-I’m s-sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t h-have interrupted y-you.”
“It’s okay.” He faced her fully. “Is Daed okay?”
“H-he’s in a l-lot of p-pain. I st-stitched up the w-wound the b-best I c-could.”
“That’s gut, ya?”
She wanted to take the worry out of his eyes. “Y-ya. It’s g-gut.”
He blew out a long breath. “I didn’t mess everything up.”
Glad to see the relief on his handsome face, she took a step toward him. “Nee, Amos. You didn’t mess anything up.”
His eyes met hers. “You’re brave, Dinah Keim. And smart. You knew what to do to help Daed.”
She blushed at his compliment, which took her off guard and made her nervous again. “I-I had s-some practice. I-I didn’t d-do that m-much.”
“I’m not smart. I mess up a lot.”
“I’m sure that’s n-not true.”
“It is.” He tilted his head and frowned, but his gaze didn’t flinch. “You talk funny.”
That wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words, especially when she was a child. And each time someone pointed out her stutter, it made it worse, made her feel more like a failure. Like she was broken. But for some reason, Amos’s words didn’t hurt. Maybe it was the kindness mixed with respect she saw in his gaze. Or the fact that there was no malice behind the simple statement. “Y-ya. I s-stutter. A l-lot.”
“Like tripping over yer tongue?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d never heard it put that way. “I g-guess s-so.” Then she looked away, her mirth evaporating.
“I’m sorry,” Amos said.
Dinah looked at him. “For what?”
“I hurt yer feelings.” He pulled on his earlobe. “I didn’t mean to. Sometimes I use wrong words. Say the wrong thing.”
“You s-said th-the t-truth.” She smiled at him. “Y-you d-didn’t hurt mei feelings.”
“You have pretty eyes. They look like the sky does in the summer. When there aren’t any clouds.”
An intense feeling came over her as he continued to gaze at her, as if he were memorizing not only her eyes but her entire face. The sharp switch in topic threw her a bit.
A car pulled in the driveway, then came to an abrupt stop near the house. Amos turned from Dinah and she heard him sigh with relief. “Jeremiah is here. He’ll know what to do.”
A wiry man with a beard jumped out of the car. He rushed to Amos. “What happened to Daed?” Jeremiah asked. “I got a message from my tech and she said it was an emergency.”
“We were out cutting hay,” Amos said. “He cut his leg. He cut it real bad.”
Jeremiah groaned. “He was using that old scythe, wasn’t he?”
Amos nodded. “But Dinah Keim stitched his leg.”
Jeremiah gave her an odd look. “Thanks,” he said, sounding confused. Then he dashed into the house.
Dinah saw that Amos was about to follow him. Knowing how squeamish he was, she knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. She put her hand on his arm and he stilled. He stared at her hand as if he’d never seen one before. Then he looked at her, his brown eyes darkening and filling with confusion at the same time. She snatched her hand away. She shouldn’t have touched him. And although the gesture was innocent and meant to get his attention, something had passed between them. Something both unsettling and pleasant.
“W-we sh-should stay o-out here,” she said. Then she clamped her lips together. She needed to get her stutter under control. “I think the kitchen is c-crowded enough.” There. That was better.
“Okay. Jeremiah is a gut vet.”
She had remembered that from her aunt’s wedding. Jeremiah and his wife, who was a nurse, had never joined the church but were still close with their families. They were Yankees, which is what the Amish in Middlefield called the non-Amish.
“A vet can take care of people too,” Amos said.
“In c-certain s-situations, ya.”
“I remember you. From the wedding.”
There he went, switching topics faster than a flapping hummingbird’s wings. “I-I know you d-do.”
“Judith is yer aenti.”
Dinah nodded. “I’m h
ere for a v-visit.” She frowned. “You d-didn’t k-know I w-was c-coming?”
“I must have forgotten you were coming today. I forget a lot of things.”
“It’s o-okay, Amos. I forget things t-too. And I was s-supposed to be here t-tomorrow. So you didn’t forget anything.”
He grinned. “I didn’t?” Then his brow scrunched in concentration. “We’re friends, ya? I mean, we can be friends? Like me and Anna Mae are? Even though you’re a maedel and I’m a bu?”
He was far from a boy, despite his simple speech. “Ya, Amos. I would like to be friends.”
Jeremiah came out of the house and Dinah was glad to see he didn’t look as upset as he had when he arrived.
“How is Daed?” Amos asked, turning from Dinah.
“Judith and I got him to the couch. I wanted to take him to the doctor but he refused.” Jeremiah shrugged. “You know how Daed is. At least he keeps up with his tetanus shots. He did agree to let Anna Mae look at him when she gets off work.” Jeremiah turned to Dinah. “You did a mighty fine job with those stitches. Where did you learn how to suture like that?”
“I-I h-have a c-cat.” Her explanation sounded stupid. “A- and I-I’ve r-read a l-lot of b-books.” Irritated with herself, she looked away.
“You’re very skilled,” he said in a patient tone.
Dinah knew he was being nice, but she didn’t appreciate his coddling. She nodded and kept her gaze from him.
If he was bothered by her rudeness, he didn’t let on. Instead he turned to Amos. “Daed won’t be able to do much work for a while. I know it’s harvest season and there’s a lot to be done. I can come over and help you after I get off work.”
Amos shook his head. “I can do it.”
“Amos, the hay needs cutting and stacking. The corn needs to be picked. So do the beans, peas, zucchini, carrots—”
“I know, Jeremiah.”