Amish Christmas Blessings: The Midwife's Christmas Surprise/A Christmas to Remember

by Marta Perry;Jo Ann Brown

  Calling to Polly to join them, Linda looked at the tall man whose face she couldn’t see clearly. “Can I ask you a question, Amos?”

  “Ja. Ask as many as you wish.”

  “Where are we?”

  His voice was gentle as he replied, “Paradise Springs in Lancaster County in Pennsylvania. That’s near—”

  “I know where Lancaster County is.”

  “You do?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “Somehow I know things like that, but don’t know anything about myself. Strange, isn’t it?” She hesitated, then asked, “What day is it?”

  “Thursday.”

  “No, I mean what’s the date?”

  “December 14th.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. Curiosity had spurred her questions, but she didn’t know what to do with the answers.

  “Go now?” Polly asked. “I’m cowd.”

  Linda shivered. She was cold, too.

  “And you’re hungry, too, Polly, ain’t so?” Amos grinned.

  “Ja!” The little girl jumped up and down in excitement.

  “What do you say to some sandwiches to tide us over until supper, Linda?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to answer, but no words emerged. Everything and everyone in front of her rippled like a puddle in the rain. The edges of her vision darkened. She thought she heard someone call her name as firm arms kept her from collapsing, but the sound, the arms and the rest of the world vanished into blackness.

  Chapter Two

  Linda opened her eyes and stared at a white ceiling. No rafters or water stains broke the painted expanse. A propane lamp hung from the center, its flame turned low. She started to move her head, but pain exploded like a sky filled with fireworks behind her eyes. She squeezed them shut and rode the wave of pain until it eased.

  Fireworks...

  She remembered fireworks. Maybe from the Fourth of July. Standing by a fence and watching them detonate in the distance. Waiting for the bang to follow almost a minute later. The heat of a humid summer day and the smell of freshly cut grass and a charcoal fire. Hamburgers? Ja, but when she tried to recreate more of the scene to see where she stood and who else was there, the fragments of memory vanished as if they’d never existed.

  Tears filled her eyes. She refused to let them slip past her lashes to fall down her face. Why was she crying? What filled her mind could have been something she read or someone else had described to her. The tantalizing bits of memory might not be her own. Focus on the here and now, she told herself. Guide me, Lord, until I find my way.

  When she opened her eyes a second time, she looked around. She was in a living room if she were to guess by the furniture. A braided rag rug was on the floor in front of a fireplace. A gas fireplace, she realized when she noted how the fire came from behind the logs rather than within them.

  A clock ticked steadily. She hoped it wouldn’t chime. That would be agony.

  Closer she saw a low table. On top was a bowl filled with water. A cloth hung over its edge, and she realized another damp cloth was draped across her forehead. For a moment, she savored its gentle warmth, letting it sink into her.

  “How are you doing, Linda?” asked a woman.

  Her eyes struggled to bring the woman sitting beside her into focus. Concern was vivid on the woman’s face as she wrung the cloth from the bowl and used it to replace the one on Linda’s forehead.

  “I don’t know,” Linda replied as she examined the woman’s features, desperate to know her.

  Someone else spoke. “Don’t try to recognize where you are.” The deep voice, though the words were soft, resonated through her. She knew that voice! “You’ve never been here before, and you’ve never met my mamm, Wanda Stoltzfus, before.”

  She turned her head on the pillow and fought not to wince. Amos Stoltzfus leaned one shoulder against a staircase. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was drawn. She couldn’t keep from smiling. Not only was he familiar, but his words were the kindest ones she could imagine.

  She had been struggling to place this room and the woman. Despite knowing her memories were lost, she’d longed to see something she knew.

  Someone.

  And Amos understood. She appreciated his words more than she could have guessed. He walked toward her, and she was amazed such a tall man was able to walk lightly in work boots.

  Tears welled into her eyes at his unspoken kindness, surprising her. Was she usually sentimental, or was weakness causing her eyes to fill? Another question she couldn’t answer.

  He knelt by the sofa. “My name is—”

  “I remember your name.” The tears bubbled to the edge of her eyelashes at the words she’d feared she’d never use again. They tasted as sweet as the year’s first strawberries. “Amos Stoltzfus. You work at a store.”

  He smiled. “That’s right.”

  “I was there. With Polly!” She tried to push herself up. “Where’s Polly?”

  “She’s fine.” Wanda put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Amos brought you and Polly here.” Wanda smiled, and Linda saw the resemblance between mamm and son. Something around the eyes and the way their lips tilted when they grinned. Amusement laced through her voice as she added, “He figured one of us women here would know what to do. My daughter-in-law, Leah, is in the kitchen feeding the kinder. Your Polly and her Mandy. Are you hungry?”

  She was, but many questions demanded an answer before she ate. She pushed herself to sit up. Amos slid his arm behind her shoulders to assist her. She stiffened as the aroma of his shampoo and soap enveloped her.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked, turning to look at her.

  Their faces were so close a kind’s hand couldn’t have fit between them. She stared at his strong jaw and his expressive mouth that was drawn in a straight line. His dark brown eyes, volatile in the parking lot, were now shadowed with worry.

  For her.

  Silly tears flooded her eyes at the thought of someone caring about her. She’d been alone, save for Polly, not knowing if anyone wondered where they were. Temptation teased her to rest her head on his shoulder and let his strong arms surround her to hold the world at bay.

  But she couldn’t. For many reasons, but the primary one was the little girl sliding off a chair in the kitchen and watching her with a troubled expression. Another girl, who looked about ten-years-old and must be Mandy, stared, too.

  God, help me find the strength.

  Linda drew away from Amos. She murmured her gratitude but settled herself against the back of the sofa. Her head felt too heavy, and she let it drop.

  “Ouch!” she gasped, sitting straighter. She was horrified to see strands of hair tumbling forward. It must have fallen out of her bun. Glancing at Amos, she groped for her hair. Where was her kapp? No man but her husband should see her hair loose and without a cover.

  Her fingers froze. Did she have a husband? She had no idea.

  “There’s a big lump above your right ear.” Wanda tucked Linda’s loose hair between her shoulder and the sofa, then grimaced. “I’ll get you one of my kapps, but I wanted to make sure you don’t need stitches.”

  “Where is my kapp?” Its shape could be a clue to where she’d come from or where she was going.

  “You weren’t wearing one,” Amos said.

  “But why would—”

  The cry of Linda’s name in an adorable lisp cut through her words. Polly rushed toward her. Linda tried not to groan when the little girl threw herself against her, saying Linda’s name over and over. Wrapping her arms around Polly, Linda held on for dear life. This kind needed her. Something horrible had happened to them, and she wasn’t going to allow it to happen again. It was a vow she intended to keep...somehow.

  * * *

  Amos w
atched raw emotions racing across Linda’s face, and he realized no matter what had happened to her, she cared for the little girl who clung to her. He’d been heartsick when Linda opened her eyes and looked around like a starving soul seeking God’s love. His first thought had been to let her know she was safe.

  He’d been shocked when Linda fainted in the parking lot. He’d caught her as he tried to soothe Polly’s terror, hoping his reassurances would prove to be true. When he’d put Linda in his buggy and assisted Polly in before locking up the store, he’d prayed Linda would awaken. His prayers hadn’t halted during the short drive to the farm where he’d been born and lived his whole life nor had they eased when he carried her into the house, shocking his mamm and Leah, his older brother Ezra’s wife.

  When he’d placed Linda on the couch, he’d followed his mamm’s instructions and then stayed out of the way while Mamm removed Linda’s bonnet and coat. Leah had steered Polly into the kitchen when the unmistakable color of blood was revealed on Linda’s bonnet.

  What had happened to her? Had her injury stolen her memories? A quick search of her coat had revealed nothing to identify her. Polly had said they were traveling, so he assumed Linda had been carrying a purse. Where was it? He guessed she didn’t know. Otherwise, she would have seen her name on the ID insert in her wallet. If she’d filled it out. He had no idea if she was organized or not. As his siblings often reminded him, not everyone was as conscientious as he was. He ignored them, because not being careful had led to being made a fool of by Arlene Barkman five years ago.

  Polly rubbed tears off her chubby cheeks as she leaned her head against Linda’s shoulder. He watched them and was surprised when Leah spoke close to him. He hadn’t noticed her coming to stand beside him.

  Her voice was a whisper. “Polly loves Linda. I wonder how they’re related.”

  “That should be easy to answer,” he answered before he raised his voice to ask, “Polly, is Linda your mamm?”

  The little girl looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “No!” In the lisp, he found easier to decipher each time the kind spoke, Polly went on, “She’s Linda. My Linda. Not my mamm.”

  “Linda is her name. What’s your mamm’s name?”

  She gave him the same incredulous look she had in the parking lot. “Mamm’s name is Mamm.”

  “Ask a silly question,” murmured his own mamm, and his sister-in-law struggled to hide a smile.

  Linda gave him a sympathetic glance, which he appreciated. He was spared from trying to devise something to say when he heard a knock. He went to the door and opened it, knowing who was there.

  “Komm in, Dr. Montgomery,” he said, stepping aside to let the tall, slender redhead enter. The Englisch doktorfraa was dressed in a navy coat, a skirt of the same color and an unadorned white blouse.

  “Thank you, Amos,” she said with a calm smile. “I assume my patient is in the front room.”

  “Ja. Mamm is watching over her.”

  “Then she’s in good hands.”

  “The best.”

  The doktorfraa slipped off her coat after setting her black bag on the stairs. Picking up the bag, she walked past him.

  Amos went into the kitchen when, after introducing herself to Linda, Dr. Montgomery suggested she’d like privacy to examine her patient. When his mamm joined him in the kitchen while Leah returned to washing the dishes, Polly came with her. The littler girl had question after question until Mamm distracted both kinder with cookies.

  His own curiosity couldn’t be deflected so easily. He glanced into the other room. As he watched, Linda touched her right forefinger, then her left one to her nose. Following the doktorfraa’s orders, she reached to do the same to Dr. Montgomery. She paused and looked past the doktorfraa when a giggle came from the kitchen and Polly asked if she could play, too.

  When Linda caught him staring, he expected her to look away. He expected himself to look away. Neither of them did as, for a breathless moment, his gaze entwined with hers. For that second, he sensed the frustration and panic boiling inside her. An urge to put his arm around her and hold her close until the fear subsided shocked him. He didn’t know her or anything about her, yet he couldn’t deny the unexpected longing crashing over him.

  Stop it! he told himself. He’d been fooled by one pretty woman when he discovered he hadn’t known enough about her. He wouldn’t do that again.

  Dr. Montgomery closed her bag and sighed, breaking the connection between him and Linda. “All I can tell you is that you were struck above your ear, and you’ve suffered a concussion which is the most likely cause of your amnesia.”

  “There isn’t anything you can do to help?” Amos asked, walking into the front room.

  “Other than prescribing two acetaminophen tablets every six hours for pain, there’s nothing I can do but order some neurological tests and scans. I’ll contact Dr. Vandross, the chief neurologist at the hospital, and get his advice to see if we need to arrange some tests and scans.”

  Linda started to shake her head, then holding it in her hands said, “I don’t have any money, and I can’t ask this district to pay for a stranger’s medical bills.”

  Mamm sat beside Linda on the sofa. “Don’t fret about such things. It’ll take a while before the tests can be scheduled.” She raised her eyes to Dr. Montgomery. “Isn’t that right? When Leah’s daed needed tests last year, it took some time to fit him into the schedule.”

  “The full battery of tests might happen before Christmas, but more likely afterwards.” The doctor gave Linda an apologetic smile. “I know it must be frustrating to lose your memories, but having the tests won’t guarantee their return. Time is the best healer. It’s important you don’t bump your head until your brain has a chance to heal. Another trauma to your skull and your brain could be damaged worse.”

  “And keep my memories from coming back?”

  “That’s one possibility. Another possibility is that you’d suffer injuries leaving you unable to do physical things or talk.”

  Her eyes grew round with unabashed horror. “That could happen if I bump my head again?”

  “I can’t say what might happen or not happen. We know too little about the brain and how it handles an injury. If you feel dizzy, sit immediately. Don’t take chances.” She smiled sadly. “I don’t want to scare you, but being careful is vital.”

  “We understand,” Amos said when Linda didn’t reply.

  “I’d like to see Linda in my office after Christmas if she’s still in pain. Can that be arranged?”

  “Ja,” said Amos.

  “If she regains her memories—even bits of them—let me know. What she recalls may help determine what we do next.”

  “Danki, Dr. Montgomery,” he added as he stepped aside to let Mamm walk the doktorfraa to the door. He guessed his mamm had other questions she wanted to ask without Linda overhearing.

  If she got answers, Amos saw no sign of it when Mamm bustled into the living room and insisted Linda eat. Linda took the bowl of stew, setting it on the table in front of the sofa. She didn’t touch it after his brother Ezra came inside when the barn chores were done. His other unmarried brothers returned home from work to eat their supper. The stew grew cold after Polly gave Linda a kiss good-night before Leah took her and Mandy upstairs to bed. Mamm refilled the bowl with warm stew before going through the connecting door to the dawdi haus, but Linda didn’t taste it. When Leah and Ezra asked if she wanted help to go into the guest room beyond the kitchen, she thanked them and sat with her hands folded on her lap.

  Amos said nothing as he sat in a chair near the couch and stared at the flames leaping in the gas fireplace. It, along with the old woodstove in the kitchen, kept the whole house warm except on the coldest days of the winter. He unlaced his work boots, then he toed off one and then the other.

  “You know Mamm
is going to be disappointed if you don’t eat,” he said as he glanced over at Linda, half expecting her to be asleep.

  “Moving makes me dizzy,” she said in little more than a whisper.

  “Do you want me to spoon it for you?”

  He was so sure she’d say no he almost gasped aloud when she said, “Ja. I don’t want to spill anything on the couch.”

  That she was thinking of others when she was suffering no longer surprised him. He’d seen how worried she was about Polly.

  “Do you mind?” He pointed to the cushion beside her.

  “Gently, if you don’t mind.”

  He tried not to shift the cushion, but he must have because she closed her eyes and her breath caught. “Once you have something in your stomach, you should take some Tylenol.”

  “That’s a gut idea.”

  He picked up the bowl and the napkin. He handed her the latter and couldn’t help smiling when she tucked it into the top of her dress.

  She smiled in return. “If I’m going to be fed like a boppli, I should dress like one, ain’t so?”

  Instead of answering, he lifted a spoonful of his mamm’s fragrant stew and held it out for her to eat. He couldn’t think of Linda as a boppli. She was a grown woman, something he was too aware of when she gazed at him as the tip of her tongue chased a bit of gravy from the corner of her mouth. He looked at the bowl he held. He needed to keep his mind on his task and not on her lips.

  When the last bit of stew was gone, she handed him the napkin and thanked him. He took the bowl to the kitchen. Leaving it in the sink, he got two tablets from the downstairs bathroom, and returned to the living room with them and a glass of water.

  “If you want,” he said as she swallowed Tylenol, “I can help you to the guest room.”

  “No,” she replied, staring at the fire. “I shouldn’t sleep. It’s dangerous after a head injury.”

  “Did the doktorfraa mention that?”

  “I remember someone saying that.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “But not who. What do I do now?”