The Middlefield Family Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  Katherine glanced away. Maybe the doctor could be so casual about her losing her memory, but she couldn’t. Still, she hid her dismay from her mother. She didn’t want to give her anything else to worry about.

  “Other than that, you’re doing well. I’ll have the nurse come in with the discharge papers, and you’ll be free to leave. Do you have any other questions?”

  Katherine shook her head, still trying to process what the doctor had said. But she was glad to be going home.

  Once he left, her mother went to the small closet in the room and pulled out Katherine’s dress and kapp. “You can get dressed while we wait for the nurse. Do you need any help?”

  “Nee.” She got up from the bed, feeling nothing worse than a little weakness in her legs.

  She took the dress and kapp from her mother and went into the bathroom to change. Under the fluorescent lighting she looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and her complexion was paler than normal. Johnny had seen her like this?

  She shook her head and slipped out of the gown. She’d asked her mother a couple of times why Johnny had visited, but Mamm always changed the subject. Maybe when she got home, surrounded by familiar things, she would remember what happened. She hoped.

  After the hospital released her, Katherine and her mother took a taxi home.

  When she walked in the door, Bekah greeted her. “You got a letter from Isaac,” she said, holding it up in the air. “It came yesterday. He sure didn’t wait long to write.”

  Katherine frowned. Isaac?

  “Don’t you want the letter?” Bekah held it out to her.

  “Who’s Isaac?” her father asked.

  “Ya,” her mamm said, taking off her shawl. “Is there something we should know about?”

  Katherine took the letter from Bekah. She looked at the unfamiliar handwriting. The return address was Walnut Creek.

  “You don’t remember him?” Bekah asked.

  She shook her head. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  Daed frowned. “Bekah, what’s going on?”

  “Katherine has a beau.”

  Both Katherine and her mother gasped. “What?” Mamm looked at Katherine. “Why didn’t you say anything about him before?”

  “Well, he’s not exactly a beau,” Bekah said, plopping on the couch. Suddenly she looked concerned. “None of this rings a bell, Katherine?”

  Weary, she sat down and put the letter in her lap. “Nee.”

  “You seem to know all about him, though.” Daed looked at Bekah, his expression stern.

  “All I know is that he stopped by a couple days ago, wanting to talk to Katherine.” She grinned. “I think he’s kind of schee.”

  “And that’s all you know?”

  “Ya.”

  “Gut. Then geh to your room. Your mudder and I need to talk to Katherine. Alone.”

  Bekah looked genuinely shocked. “I’m seventeen. Don’t you think I’m a little old to be sent to my room?” At their father’s warning look, she said, “I’m going. But, Katherine, you and I are going to talk later.”

  Katherine sighed as her sister clambered up the stairs. Her parents waited for a moment.

  Her father moved to stand at the bottom of the stairs. “Shut the door, Rebekah.”

  “Fine.”

  He sighed and turned back to Katherine. Katherine glanced at her mom, not missing the twitch of her lips. But Katherine didn’t find this funny at all.

  Her father sat on the couch, removed his hat, and rubbed his forehead. “Why haven’t we heard about Isaac before?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you’ve been writing to him?” He leaned forward.

  Katherine shrugged. “I don’t remember. I guess I have.”

  Her mother sat next to her. “I think it’s wonderful you’ve met someone.”

  Her father rubbed his chin. “I suppose. It would be nice to know who that someone is, though.”

  “Thomas, Katherine doesn’t need us peppering her with questions. Geh upstairs and I’ll bring you some tea.” Mamm stood. “Oh, and don’t forget your letter.” She smiled.

  Katherine looked at the white envelope in her lap. Why wasn’t she more curious about its contents? Instead, she was still wondering why Johnny had visited her in the hospital. “I don’t want any tea, just some sleep. I’ll be down later to help with supper.”

  “Absolutely not. You just got out of the hospital. Bekah and I can take care of supper. We’ll let you know when it’s ready.” She kissed Katherine’s cheek. “Now, geh rest.”

  Katherine went upstairs. She shut the door to her room and sat on the bed. Stared at the letter again. Had she been writing to this Isaac? There was only one way to find out. She opened the letter and started to read.

  Dear Katherine,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I’m glad you said it was okay to write to you while I’m on the road with Daed. We’re heading for southern Ohio tomorrow. He said we should be done with our visits to the alpaca farms in a couple of weeks. The time can’t go fast enough for me.

  I don’t mean to be pushy, but I really like you. I got the feeling you liked me too, seeing that you were always so kind to me at Mary Yoder’s. Then again, you know I had my eye on you from the start. You can write me back if you want; I’ll pick up the letters when I return from our trip.

  Best, Isaac

  Frowning, Katherine looked at the address Isaac wrote on the bottom of the letter. The same as the return address. Walnut Creek.

  She returned the letter to its envelope, disappointed. The letter was short and gave little insight into who Isaac was. All she knew was that he was with his dad and doing something with alpacas.

  And . . . he liked her.

  But for how long? She clenched the letter. Why couldn’t she remember? A knock sounded on the door, startling her. “What?” The word shot out of her mouth.

  “It’s me.” Bekah’s voice sounded tentative.

  Katherine tossed the letter on her bed. “Come in.”

  Bekah walked into the room. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You always say that. Even when you’re not.” Bekah walked into the room. “Goodness, you look like you’re about to throw up.” She frowned. “You aren’t, are you? You know I don’t do well with that kind of thing.”

  “Nee. I’m just tired.”

  Bekah plopped down on Katherine’s bed next to the letter. She pointed at it. “Did this help you figure things out?”

  She shook her head. Curiosity filled Bekah’s eyes. “Geh ahead,” Katherine said. “Read it.”

  Bekah eagerly pulled out the letter. Her smile disappeared as she read. “That was kind of—”

  “Vague?”

  “Boring. Except for the part about liking you.” She returned the letter to Katherine. “Are you going to write him back?”

  “I don’t know. What would I say? Other than ‘I don’t remember you’? The past three weeks are a complete blank.”

  “Gut point.” Bekah touched Katherine’s arm. “I’m sorry you have to geh through this.”

  “It’s frustrating. But the doctor said I might get my memory back.” Someday.

  “So in the meantime, what are you going to do about Isaac?”

  “Wait for him to come back, I suppose.”

  “And Johnny? Mamm was pretty mad about him showing up at the hospital.” She turned to Katherine. “He was worried about you, Katherine. Really worried. Mamm says it’s because he feels guilty about the way he’s treated you all these years.”

  “She’s probably right.” Knowing the truth didn’t lessen the pain, however.

  “I don’t think so. I’m fairly sure he likes you.”

  Katherine’s heart leapt at the thought. Then she came back down to reality. “Johnny doesn’t care for me.”

  “Maybe he’s changed his mind.”

  “Not likely.” Katherine got up and looked out the windo
w.

  “You never know—”

  “Bekah, stop.” She faced her sister. “Just stop it.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She stood. “I should geh downstairs and help Mamm with supper.”

  “You should.”

  But before she left, she put her hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home. Glad you’re all right.”

  Katherine nodded but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t angry at Bekah. Or even at Johnny. She was just frustrated with herself—and tired of feeling that way.

  CHAPTER 20

  Sawyer woke up the next morning not knowing what to do about Cora. She had ridden home from dinner in silence. He thought surely she would nag him again about returning to New York. But she hadn’t said a word.

  Maybe he should go back with her, just to show he did care, even though he had no intention of changing his mind about the church or Laura. He disliked the city and wanted to spend as little time there as possible. Still, he needed to give Cora a place in his life. He had to make her understand that although he wouldn’t abandon her, once he joined the church, everything would change.

  He dressed in Amish clothes, brushed his hair, and headed downstairs toward the scent of frying bacon and eggs. He smiled at Anna on his way through the kitchen.

  “I’ll go help Lukas with the horses,” Sawyer said, heading out the door.

  Anna stopped him cold. “I’m sure he can feed them by himself this morning.” She motioned toward the table. “Sit down. I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

  “I know. Between work and meeting with the bishop—”

  “And seeing Laura.” Anna pulled a strip of bacon out of the frying pan and placed it on a paper towel–covered plate. “Then there’s Cora.”

  “Yes. Cora.” He looked down at the table for a moment. “Thank you for taking care of her while she’s been here. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy.”

  “Actually, she’s been a gut guest this time. Although . . .”

  “Although what?”

  Anna looked at Sawyer. “She seems tired.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there something wrong?” Anna asked.

  “Other than her wanting me to leave, no. At least she hasn’t said anything.” He snatched a piece of bacon from the plate—hot and crispy, just the way he liked it. “I was thinking about going to New York. Just for a short visit. It will be easier to do now than after I join the church.”

  Anna nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “So you don’t mind?”

  Anna removed the eggs from the stove and brought both plates of food to the table. “It’s really not my place to say, Sawyer.”

  “But I want your opinion.”

  She sat down next to him, her expression suddenly sober. “The truth is, I feel a little guilty. It seems like all my prayers have been answered, all the things I’ve wanted for you. To find a gut maedel, to stay here in Middlefield.”

  “To join the church.”

  “I didn’t dare hope for that.” She smiled, her blue eyes bright. “But I have to admit I’m happy you’ve made that decision. I know it was hard for your grandmother to hear about.”

  “It was, but eventually she’ll come to accept it.”

  “I hope so. In the meantime, be gentle with her.”

  Sawyer frowned. “She wasn’t exactly the nicest person to you when you first met.”

  “Nee, but the circumstances weren’t ideal either. Like I said, she’s been a gracious guest. I almost—”

  “Like her?”

  Before Anna could respond, a thudding noise sounded from above them. Sawyer shot up from the chair and ran upstairs, Anna trailing him. When he arrived at Cora’s bedroom door, he found his grandmother on the floor.

  He knelt beside her and helped her sit up. Her face, devoid of makeup, revealed her age. The circles under her eyes supported what Anna had told him. Cora looked exhausted. And in pain.

  “What happened?”

  “I slipped.” She attempted to sit up straight, lifting her chin in that haughty way of hers. But she couldn’t do it, and when she tried to stand, she winced.

  “Cora?” Anna came into the room, breathless from running up the stairs.

  “I’m all right,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “No, you’re not.” Sawyer glanced at her right leg. It was twisted at an odd angle, and her normally slim ankle was already swelling. “You need to see a doctor.”

  “I need to stand up.” Cora’s voice sounded weak, but there was force behind it.

  “Help her back to bed,” Anna instructed.

  Sawyer started to help Cora to her feet, but ended up lifting her small frame and laying her gently on the bed. Anna, at the foot of the bed, arranged a pillow underneath Cora’s injured ankle.

  “Ow!” Cora tried to sit up but couldn’t.

  “Sawyer,” Anna instructed, “run to the cooler in the basement and see if we have any leftover ice. Even if it’s just cold water, dip a cloth in it and wring it out.”

  He nodded and hurried to get the cloth. He found a few ice cubes, wrapped them in an old kitchen towel, and rushed back to Cora’s side. The ankle had already swollen to twice its size. He handed the crude ice pack to Anna, who placed it on Cora’s ankle.

  “Stop. Please!” Cora leaned back against the pillow. Her skin had taken on a grayish color.

  “It hurts that much?” Sawyer asked.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. Instead of answering, she nodded.

  Anna set the ice to the side. “It might be broken.”

  “Then I’ll take her to the emergency room.”

  “No!” Somehow Cora managed to sit up. “No hospitals.”

  “But, Grandmother—”

  “Sawyer, I said no.” She tried to move, only to cry out in pain again.

  He turned and started to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Anna asked.

  “Phone box. To call a taxi.” He looked at Cora. “You’re going to the hospital, Grandmother. No more arguments.”

  Cora opened her mouth, then shut it again and sank down in the bed, nodding weakly.

  Cora sat in the ER exam room, waiting for the results of her X-rays. She didn’t need X-rays to tell her that her ankle was broken. The pain searing through her foot and leg told her that.

  She looked across the room at her grandson, who sat in the corner with his right ankle crossed over his left knee. He shook his foot nervously, continuously. They’d been here for two hours already, but he had never left her side.

  Although this was the last place she wanted to be, his presence comforted her. And made her realize just how alone she was. What if she’d fallen at home? Who would have stayed with her in the hospital? Kenneth? Manuela? Whoever it was, she’d be expected to pay overtime.

  A simple slip, losing her balance after she’d gotten out of bed to get ready for the day, ended in a broken bone—and a stark reminder of her loneliness and weakness.

  Sawyer had said little to her since they’d arrived at the hospital. For the first time, she felt a pang of guilt. He was supposed to be at work. She was keeping him from his job, so he could babysit her in the emergency room. “I can get a taxi back to the Bylers’,” she said. “Once the doctor returns.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.” Sawyer stood and paced across the small cubicle. “You heard what the doctor said. It’s probably broken, which means a cast and crutches. You’ll need help.”

  “I can manage.”

  “I’m sure you could. But you don’t have to. Not while I’m here.”

  Cora met Sawyer’s gaze, and a lump caught in her throat. His eyes, so much like Kerry’s, brought back memories of her daughter when she was young. She remembered being with Kerry when she was ill with the flu, sleeping on the floor next to her bed so she could check her fever every four hours. Kerry’s father had wanted Cora to let the nanny do it. But Cora couldn’t leave her three-year-old daughter, not when she
was so ill. Not when she needed her mother the most.

  Now the roles were reversed.

  She looked away, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

  “Hurts pretty bad, huh?”

  Cora nodded. “Yes, it does.”

  “I broke my arm once. When I was in sixth grade. Playing on the jungle gym at school. Tried to hang upside down like a monkey at the zoo. Instead I slipped and fell. Landed on my elbow.”

  “That must have been painful.”

  “Yep, I was in a cast for six weeks.”

  The door opened and the doctor came in, holding X-rays. He flipped on the light box affixed to the wall and clipped up the X-rays. “I have good news and bad news.” He pointed to her ankle on the X-ray. “The good news? No break. Just a bad sprain.” He flipped off the light box. “The bad? Unfortunately you’ll need an air cast and will be on crutches for a few weeks.”

  Cora hid her despair. How could she handle crutches when she was already so unsteady on her own two feet?

  Her hands started to shake. She held them together tightly.

  “Mrs. Easley, other than your ankle, are you feeling all right?”

  She nodded, tightening the grip on her hands.

  The doctor looked at her intently. “Do you have someone to drive you home?”

  “We’ll be getting a taxi,” Sawyer said.

  “Good. And do you have someone to help you at home?”

  Cora didn’t respond. She wasn’t at home. But she couldn’t go to her real home, not like this.

  “She has plenty of people to take care of her.” Sawyer looked at her and smiled. “Don’t worry.”

  Easy for him to say. It wasn’t his ankle that was screaming with pain. “Are you sure it’s not broken?”

  The young doctor pushed up his glasses. “Sprains can hurt worse than a break. You’re lucky, Mrs. Easley. A broken ankle might have required surgery. Are you in pain?”

  She could deny it, but both Sawyer and the doctor would know it was a lie. “Yes.”

  “I’ll prescribe some pain medication. What drugs are you currently taking?”

  Cora froze.

  “Mrs. Easley? I need to know your current medications. I don’t want to prescribe anything that might interact with them.”