by Alison Stone
Christina took the card and glanced at the name. “I’ll contact Dr. Meckler’s office and see what they’re giving you. Maybe I can catch him now.”
Linda’s shoulders sagged in relief, the sharp angles of her frame visible under her shirt. “Thank you.”
“Hold on a minute while I make the call.” Christina slipped out of the room.
Dylan stood there with his car keys in hand. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Their gazes lingered for a minute.
“I’ll be in the car. Give you some privacy. Take your time.”
“Thanks.” Christina smiled her appreciation. She dialed Linda’s physician’s office and sent up a silent prayer when his office staff connected her rather quickly with the doctor, who had been in his office doing paperwork at the end of the day. They discussed Linda’s treatment and the best options for pain management. Christina hung up and prescribed a stronger pain medication. She called the script in to the Apple Creek Pharmacy.
Christina went back into the exam room and shared the information with Linda who thanked her and stood to leave. Linda’s clothes hung off her thin frame. “Can I call someone for you?” The thought of Roger coming by the clinic to pick up his wife sent Christina’s mood spiraling.
“I should be fine to drive home. I can drive short distances.”
An unmistakable urgency surged through Christina. She cleared her throat. “Have you had any other issues with kids using the barn for parties?”
Linda paused for a minute and a tinge of pink colored her cheeks. “Not at all,” she said a little too emphatically, or maybe Christina was reading too much into it.
“That’s good.” Christina traced the edge of the tablet where she entered all her medical files. Then she lifted her eyes to meet Linda’s. Something compelled her to keep pressing. “I need to ask you another question. Has Roger ever hurt you?”
Linda’s eyes flared wide. “Why would you say such a thing? He has never hurt me.” She glanced down at the carpet and then touched the bandana neatly wrapped around her head. “We had our differences over the years, but mostly because the war made him a tougher man. But he is here now. When it counts.” She lifted a shaky hand to her mouth, then quickly dropped it. “He’s here for me. More importantly, he’s here for Matt. Our son is going to need his father now more than ever. So, no, he hasn’t hurt me. And whatever you think he did to you, you’re wrong. He has been nothing but a friend to you and your brother.”
Christina took a step back and nearly stumbled backward. “He...he told you?”
“Of course he told me. He figured you were the type to cause trouble.”
“When did he tell you this? Years ago or just recently?”
Linda jerked her head back. “Only recently. He had no reason to say anything sooner. You’re making this all up. And to do so now is just unconscionable.”
The hot fingers of regret tightened around her neck. Christina wanted to argue, plead her case, but decided Linda’s well-being was more important. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She waved her hand, wishing she had kept Roger’s name out of their conversation. “I’m not looking to cause trouble for your husband.” Christina hesitated a fraction. “If you thought that was the case, why are you here?”
Linda blinked slowly and flinched. “I don’t have the time or energy for drama. I’ve heard you’re a good doctor. And I’m in pain. I’m desperate.”
Christina nodded, feeling like she had been scolded. She paused briefly and gathered her thoughts. “I sent a script for pain meds to the local pharmacy. I hope our conversation won’t stop you from coming here if you need something. Anything.”
Linda nodded almost imperceptibly. Christina had a tough time reading her.
“Cancer sucks, ya know,” Linda muttered.
“I do.”
Christina witnessed the depth of Linda’s pain and in that fleeting moment, Christina decided she had to let it go. She would not destroy what little peace Linda had these last days on Earth.
This woman was battling for her life. What point would it serve if Christina insisted on making Linda see who her husband really was?
A whisper of doubt haunted Christina.
What if Naomi had fabricated the events of the other night to cover her drug use?
What if Christina had been the only one Roger attacked?
What if Christina had been the only one to blame?
* * *
When Christina emerged from the clinic a few minutes after the patient left, Dylan climbed out of his truck to greet her. If he hadn’t, he would have felt like one of those guys who honked for his date in the driveway, something he’d never do.
“Everything okay?” he asked, watching her expression closely. Christina used to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but now, all these years later, she was much more stoic. Reserved.
Time and life experiences tended to do that to a person. For him, life had made him more compassionate. More leery. Whereas Christina had seemed to don a suit of armor.
Maybe it was an act. A means of self-preservation. He understood that. Self-preservation had landed him in Apple Creek.
“The patient who just came in. That was Roger’s wife.”
Dylan jerked his head back and bumped his elbow on his open truck door. “I shouldn’t have left.”
Christina lifted her hands and a flash of something he couldn’t quite name—anger, defiance, frustration maybe—flashed in her eyes. She stopped in front of his truck and crossed her arms, her body posture unmistakable. “Do you think she was going to hurt me? Come after me for accusing her husband of attacking me? Did you notice how frail she was?”
“Why are you so angry?” He shrugged. “Was it something I said?”
“I’ve managed fine for years without you. Don’t think you have to be my protector now that you’ve decided to come back around.”
Dylan held up his hand and clenched his jaw. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He reached out to sweep a strand of hair off her face and she batted his hand away.
“Stop.”
He dropped his hand. “Why are you angry with me? Someone vandalized your car. They impaled the headrest with a steak knife. Don’t I have a right to be concerned?”
“You lost that right when you dumped me.”
Dylan voice grew soft. “What happened in there?”
Christina spun around, marched to her side of the truck and climbed in.
Dylan got behind the wheel but didn’t start the engine. He could sense Christina cooling off.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I have no idea where all that came from. I’m stressed. I’m wondering if I’m a good judge of character at all. This has nothing to do with you. With us. I’m mad. That poor woman is in the fight of her life and her husband is a jerk. How much can one person endure? I’m mad that Cheryl planted the idea that Naomi stole drugs from the clinic. I’m mad that I may have unnecessarily stirred up things with Roger at a time when his wife needs him most.”
“It’s not your fault that Roger is a jerk. Do criminals get a pass because someone in their family is sick?”
“No,” she said curtly. “But I kept my mouth shut this long, it wouldn’t have killed me to keep it shut a little while longer.” She shook her head and slumped into the seat. She reached back, grabbed the seat belt and snapped it into place. “I jumped to so many conclusions the minute I discovered Naomi had been drugged on his property.” She tugged on the belt across her lap.
Dylan leaned close to her and smiled, but she refused to look at him. This woman had such a tender heart. “You are helping her. You’re not causing anyone any anxiety.”
The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Except for you.” A full smile split her lips, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth
.
He brushed his knuckles across her smooth cheek. “Just a little.”
Christina shrugged and leaned toward the window, breaking the spell. She pointed at the ignition. “Start the truck. We need to talk to Naomi.”
SIX
“Park on the road.” Christina leaned forward, watching three young Amish girls holding hands and turning in circles. A tune reached her ears, one that sounded like “Ring Around the Rosie,” but not quite. Naomi was standing near the girls with her back to the road.
“I’d like to talk to Naomi alone. Do you mind waiting here?”
Dylan smiled and it struck her in this moment that she’d forgotten how truly handsome he was. “No problem.” He powered both windows down then leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable.
“I won’t take long. I think she’s more likely to talk to me alone.”
“Go on, then.”
Christina climbed out of the truck, feeling a little guilty that she was all Jekyll and Hyde with Dylan. She couldn’t make sense of her own feelings and she wasn’t about to let the walls down to let him in. Too many people in her life had walked away or had always been at a distance, including her parents. They were loving when they were around. They were generous, but they had never truly been present in her life. Or the lives of her two siblings.
She loved her parents for all they did. For all the opportunities they provided for her and the clinic. But she had often wished they had been like other parents. Present at the sidelines when she decided to try high school volleyball or there to drive her to dance class before she realized she was uncoordinated. But without her parents, she’d never have been able to open and run the clinic. And for that she was forever grateful.
Not to mention they paid her medical school tuition.
The breeze cooled Christina’s cheeks and snapped her back to the moment. She crossed the yard, trying to shove aside the feelings and nostalgia, and wondering how she was going to broach this topic.
Did she believe Naomi was capable of stealing drugs from the clinic? It didn’t seem possible. But it wouldn’t be the first time a friend had betrayed her trust.
A niggling unease sent a pall over the gorgeous spring day.
When Christina was halfway across the yard, Naomi turned around and noticed her. Her pale skin was nearly the color of her white bonnet. She didn’t look well. Naomi’s attention flitted from the barn, to the house, then back to Christina. Naomi held up her hand to the young girls and said something in Pennsylvania Dutch that Christina didn’t understand. For all her years in Apple Creek, she only understood bits and pieces of their language.
“What are you doing here?” Naomi asked, pink splotches blooming on her pale cheeks.
“It’s okay.” Christina kept her voice low. “I don’t want to cause any problems with your family.”
Naomi bowed her bonneted head. “Why are you here then?” She lowered her voice. “Did Cheryl send you?” She glanced furtively toward the barn. “Never mind. My brother Paul is nearby. Please leave. He can’t know about any of this. Besides, I have to go in soon to help my mem with the evening meal. ”
One of the little girls chased a volleyball in their direction. Naomi kicked it away and the girl skipped squealing after it. “If someone asks, tell them I stopped by to give you your work schedule and pay you.” She reached into her pocket and handed her an envelope. “Your pay.”
“I normally pick that up.”
“Not today.” Christina smiled, trying to make Naomi feel at ease, to get her to open up. Christina always fancied she had a good bedside manner, but dealing with the Amish required a certain amount of diplomacy.
“Your friend Cheryl is worried about you,” Christina whispered.
“What did Cheryl say?” There was a cynical note to her voice.
Christina resisted the urge to put her hand on the young woman’s arm. “She’s worried...” She let the words trail off, figuring the less she said, the better.
“I—I—” Naomi stuttered.
The three little Amish girls laughed and giggled about twenty feet away. The dichotomy of the tableau hit Christina. The little sisters were safely ensconced in their insular way of life while their big sister was standing on a precipice between the only life she’d ever known and the big world out there.
Christina was worried the young woman had made some bad choices that would forever change her life.
Something about Naomi’s situation resonated with Christina but she couldn’t quite grasp its significance, like a shadow scurrying past a window out of the corner of her eye.
“I met a boy when I was cleaning the Webbs’ house.”
Christina held her breath, waiting for Naomi to continue.
“Aaron Webb. He’s twenty and I thought...” She shook her head. “I thought he loved me.”
Christina’s chest began to tingle as she anticipated the conversation to come. The one she had heard many times from young girls who had come into her clinic, panic stricken that they had made an impulsive decision. One that changed their lives.
Naomi was flirting with the temptations of the outside world. With grown-up situations. Christina wanted to pull the girl into an embrace and assure her everything would be alright.
But she didn’t know that it would be alright.
Christina flicked a glance toward the truck where Dylan was patiently waiting. He seemed to be looking at something in his hand, most likely his phone.
Christina turned her back to Dylan, to the little girls playing in the yard. She leaned toward Naomi. “Are you pregnant?”
Naomi’s lower lip trembled and a single tear tracked down her cheek.
“We can run a test at the clinic. If you are, you need to make sure you take care of yourself.”
Christina lowered her eyes and said a prayer for Naomi. If she had found herself involved with an English boy and was now pregnant, her life was going to be forever changed.
“I don’t know. I told Cheryl I was worried.”
A need to counsel this young woman overwhelmed Christina. Her question about the drugs would have to wait. As she formulated a plan in her mind to help, a young man stormed out of the barn, rage flashing in his eyes. Naomi’s brother. Christina reflexively stepped back, fearing he was coming at her, but instead he stopped inches away from Naomi.
“You are bringing shame to this family.” He shook his gloved hand. “You’re breaking Mem’s heart.”
“Paul, please. Stop.” Naomi’s voice shook.
Naomi’s brother stood there with barely contained rage simmering below the surface. Naomi turned to Christina. “I have work to do. Thank you for dropping off my pay.” Naomi made a show of holding up the envelope.
Naomi ushered Christina away from her brother. “When do I work next?” Naomi asked, louder than necessary.
Christina whispered, “I can help you.”
Naomi glanced back at the barn and presumably her brother, but she still took the time to lean in and whisper frantically in Christina’s ear. “As you know, I went to the party the other night because I thought Lloyd Burkholder was going to be there.”
Naomi smoothed out the folds of her dress. “Lloyd took me home a few times after Sunday singing. That was, until I got too worldly. I was foolish to think that was my world. Then, I thought maybe I could convince him to take me back. Marry me. Pretend the baby was his. That’s why I went to the party. That’s all. I wasn’t dressed Englisch. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t trying to pretend I was something I’m not.”
Christina glanced toward the barn to make sure Naomi’s brother wasn’t listening. “There were drugs in your system after the party.”
Naomi’s eyes grew wide with worry. “Will they hurt my baby if...?” She couldn’t even say the words.
“You’ll need to get proper prenatal care.” Christina drew in a deep breath, then asked the question that was on her mind. “Did you take the drugs from the clinic?” Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. Naomi wouldn’t have knowingly taken something—never mind steal something—that could jeopardize the health of a potential pregnancy. And why would she have submitted to a drug test? It didn’t make sense. Someone had drugged her.
Naomi clutched her apron and looked like she was going to pass out. “I would never, Dr. Christina. Never.”
“Okay, okay, I believe you.”
“I only went to the party to try to win Lloyd back. If he married me, I could spare my parents the shame of having an unwed mother for a daughter.”
“Does your brother know?” Christina thought of Paul’s angry outburst.
“Neh, neh. He’d run to my parents. It wonders me that he hasn’t already because he knows I’ve been hanging out with Englisch friends. Paul has never diverted from our Amish upbringing. He’s gut.” Naomi tugged on the strings of her bonnet, her anxiety evident on her face.
“Naomi, you can’t keep running away from your problems. You need to come to the clinic. Soon. Take a test.” Christina purposely omitted the word pregnancy.
Naomi pressed her lips together and stared at Christina, unwilling to acknowledge the horrible predicament she was in. She swiped at a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Naomi!” Paul shouted.
“You need to go.” Naomi gently nudged Christina toward the road, then she raised her voice solely for her brother’s benefit. “Thank you for bringing me my pay.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your day.” Christina attempted to smooth things over. “Good night.”
The little Amish girls went back to their game, holding hands and running in circles, their sweet voices threading through the tension in the air. So innocent.
Their sweet, sweet innocence.
* * *
The smell of stale air rushed at Christina when she opened the door to her sealed-up home. Between work and chasing demons, she hadn’t spent much time there lately. She needed to open the windows. Do some spring cleaning. Air out after the long winter.