The Devoted

by Suzanne Woods Fisher

  “I guess that’s the word for it, but don’t get all bishop-y on me.”

  He smiled. She was prickly, this sister of his. She’d always had a mind of her own, one that didn’t follow all the beliefs of the church. But you knew where you stood with Dok. You always knew what she was thinking. If you asked her a question, be ready for an honest answer. So like his daughter, Ruthie, her namesake.

  “So what are your thoughts?”

  “I think . . . you’d be a wonderful asset to Stoney Ridge. It’s so important to have a doctor who can understand Amish patients and care for us in a way that respects our convictions and way of life. The way you were treating Ella, for example. You understood what kind of support she would receive at home. Dr. Finegold meant well, I’m confident of that, but he had trouble accepting us. There was always tension between him and his patients. He felt they resisted his efforts to treat them well. They felt he tried to prolong biological life past the time God allotted.”

  “No doubt I’ll have some of the same tension. It’s the kind of training we get in medical school—to pursue every possible avenue to heal a patient.”

  “Yes, but it’s important to ask the patients if that’s the avenue they want. Not all do. Dr. Finegold didn’t listen to his patients’ wishes.” He smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

  “If I do get the patients.” Ruth looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “So how do you think the Amish of Stoney Ridge will accept a female doctor?”

  David leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. “This church, it’s always surprising me. Just when I think they’re very conservative, something happens that makes me think they’re very progressive. My guess is that it will take some time, but as they come to know you and trust you, you’ll win them over.”

  “It would help to have my brother the bishop come to me as my patient.”

  David smiled. “I can do that.” He leaned forward and put his feet firmly on the floor. “Dok, you have a great advantage here. Don’t overlook what you can bring to your patients because of your background, not in spite of it.”

  She watched him for a long while, seeming to contemplate his advice, and then got up to go. At the door, she turned around and looked at him again. “Well, do me a favor and add this new venture to your prayers.”

  “Done,” David said. “Always.” She didn’t even have to ask.

  Dr. Ruth Stoltzfus had told her brother the truth, but not the whole truth. Was that so wrong? She knew that David had made some assumptions about her: One, that she had come to Stoney Ridge merely by accident, a few years ago, when a position was offered to her. Two, he thought she was purchasing Max Finegold’s practice because she was longing for community, harkening back to her Amish roots.

  Both accounts were incorrect assumptions. The truth was that she had come to Stoney Ridge to be nearer in proximity to Ed Gingerich, a neurosurgeon who also happened to be the man she loved. And he was the reason she had been unceremoniously fired from her position as an emergency room physician at the hospital. She had covered for a mistake made by Ed late one night over Memorial Day weekend, when the hospital was on a skeleton staff and he was on call as a favor to a general surgeon. A young nine-year-old Amish girl had been brought in by her parents with severe stomach pains. Dok diagnosed it as a possible infected appendix and sent a message to Ed to have the tests confirmed and, if necessary, get surgery scheduled. But the emergency room was so crowded that evening that she was busy with another patient when Ed finally came in to the ER. He decided it was only a bellyache and sent the girl home.

  The girl returned later that night with a burst appendix. She had very nearly died.

  Ed went to Dok the next morning, begging her to take the blame for him. He had promised her that there would be no repercussions if she admitted that she had made an incorrect diagnosis during a hectic night in the emergency room. “Unintended errors happen all the time in the emergency room. Everyone expects them now and then. But if I were to admit it?” he said. “My career would be over.”

  She believed him.

  That was a terrible decision.

  The head of the hospital called her in and told her she was being terminated. As a courtesy to her, he wouldn’t report her error. Her mind raced ahead, trying to process the news. The only reason for that feigned mercy, she knew, was because the parents were Amish and wouldn’t threaten a lawsuit. Emergency rooms, he explained, were the top hospital departments responsible for malpractice suits. He paused for a moment before continuing. “You understand, of course, that although we understand human error is the root cause for these kinds of things, we can’t tolerate it. It might be unfair to expect perfection, but nevertheless, that is what my job is all about. Expecting perfection from all my departments, even the emergency room.” He stood. “I’m sorry, Dr. Stoltzfus.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Human Resources wants to see you now. They’ll have you finish up some paperwork and escort you out.”

  It was at that moment that her situation truly sunk in. Sunk was just the right word for it too. She was sunk! And livid with Ed.

  “Ed,” she rehearsed in her mind, “you’ve drawn me into something that was wrong. You’ve made me lie and I never lie. And now I’ve lost my job despite your promises that I would be spared.”

  The last phrase struck her by its forcefulness, as if something inside her knew this promise was as empty as all the other promises he’d made to her. In particular, the promise he had made about wanting to marry her.

  Ed was waiting for her outside the head of the hospital’s office. “Well?” he said, looking at her expectantly. “Did everything go as planned?”

  “Not really. I was fired,” she said flatly.

  Ed was filled with pity. And colossal relief. But no regret. No remorse. Dok could see it in his eyes. He was safe. She, on the other hand, had lost her job, her reputation, and her integrity. She was infuriated with him, but it was only one of a thousand emotions whirling around inside her: anger, fear, despair, frustration, indignation, outrage . . . followed by guilt and, mostly, shame at her own foolishness.

  What was the matter with her? Why would she, a woman known for being independent and strong-willed, allow herself to be caught in this kind of situation? Because . . . the man was Ed Gingerich. The most fascinating, intelligent, exciting man she’d ever known. What made her feel that stomach-churning longing for one person and not another? It was an exasperating puzzle.

  And that’s why she didn’t tell him what she had mentally rehearsed—because she realized that the blame belonged to her alone. Ed was one of the most influential doctors on staff at the hospital. Nothing would have happened to him, even if he had told the truth. She was the fool for listening to him. But there was something about Ed that was hard to resist. If he asked her to do something for him, she would do it. In fact, she had just done it. She was the fool, not Ed.

  “Honey, I’ll make it up to you.”

  “No. I don’t want you to.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief, misunderstanding her intent. “You’re amazing. What did I do to deserve you?” His cell phone went off and he reached for it, his attention diverted. “I’ll call you later?”

  She maneuvered around him to walk toward the Human Resources office. “You do that,” she said.

  She was walking out to the parking lot with a big box of her things in her arms when she bumped into Matt Lehman, a police officer who was well known at the hospital.

  “Let me get that for you,” he said, taking it out of her hands before she could object. He set it in her passenger seat. He kept his eyes on his shoes and cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’d have time for a cup of coffee?”

  Oh Matt. He had a ridiculous adolescent-like crush on her that she tried her best to discourage. “Matt, now’s not a good time.”

  He glanced at the box of belongings and connected the dots. “Dok, Max Finegold is serious about wanting to retire to Florida. He told m
e so this very morning. Small towns need doctors.” He took a step closer to her. “When Dr. Finegold offered his practice to you, he wasn’t kidding. He told me he thinks you’re the one for it.”

  She looked at him, and he met her gaze directly. “Did he say that?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “What did he say exactly?”

  A slow grin spread over Matt’s face. “He said that you’re always meddling with his Amish patients and you should put your money where your big mouth is.”

  A short laugh burst out of Dok. “That sounds more like him.” It sounded like her too. She was the world’s worst meddler. A trait she’d inherited from her mother, the one and only Meddling Mammi.

  “He has a point. Seems like you would understand the Plain People in a way Max never could. Or other doctors. I’ve seen it myself. You have a way with them.” He leaned across the space between them, his fingers still tucked in his belt loops. “It appears you might be ready for a change. And I know I already said this, but small towns need doctors. You’d be making a big contribution.”

  She sighed. He’d found her Achilles heel. She was driven by an inner compulsion to make a contribution, to have something to offer this world. She fiddled with her car keys, thinking through Matt’s remarks. What other options did she have right now? She could probably get her old job back in Ohio, but that would definitely mean the end of a relationship with Ed and she wasn’t ready for that. She might be furious with him for throwing her under the bus, but she wasn’t ready to throw the relationship out the window. A feeling came over her, of things falling into place, coming into focus. Maybe . . . this might just be the path she belonged on. “So how do I get in touch with Max Finegold?”

  Matt reached out and touched Ruth on the arm, gently, as a friend. “Let me help.”

  5

  The twists and turns of life, David mused, as he drove the buggy past his sister’s soon-to-be medical practice. He could never have predicted such a blessing, to him, to his family, to his community. Never would have thought to ask for it! And maybe there’s a lesson in that. “You have not because you ask not,” the apostle James declared. Maybe David should try to expand his prayers, and ask for more. More evidence of God’s work of redemption, more hearts turning to him, more signs of his church learning to love their neighbors as God loved them. His spirits lifted at the thought.

  A life partner for his sister, Dok.

  Now, that was a prayer he hadn’t considered to pray yet. He had always been impressed by her medical career, by her calm confidence, her ability to make hard decisions under pressure—something he struggled with. But he worried she was lonely. Of course, she’d never admit such a thing. But everyone needed someone. Es is en Deckel fer alle Haffe. There’s a lid for every pot.

  Maybe, he realized, wanting to belong was the reason Dok had come to Stoney Ridge in the first place. She must have known David was living here. She must have. And maybe that was what kept her here too. Close but not too close, to David and his family.

  That thought lifted his spirits too. But he was still going to pray for a life partner for her. A man who would love his sister in the way she deserved to be loved.

  To be a country doctor, one who actually had patients, Dok would need to embrace house calls. She wanted to be the kind of doctor the Amish needed. They used medical services, but with reluctance, caution, and with one eye on the bottom line, financially. If necessary, a house call could determine whether a patient belonged in the hospital or not. And that meant she had to say goodbye to her beloved energy-efficient Prius and look for some kind of sturdy vehicle that could get through snow and rain.

  She stopped by a car dealership on the way home from work—there was only one in Stoney Ridge—and was surprised to find Matt Lehman, in full uniform, talking to the sales manager. She watched their interaction for a moment and realized that Matt was questioning the sales manager in an officious way, taking notes. Was the guy ever off duty?

  Matt spotted her and his whole demeanor stiffened as if the Queen of England had arrived. Was it her imagination or did he flush slightly?

  Matt was a good friend to her, very good. They had met a few years ago on a Sunday at the local Mennonite church. Whenever he had a reason to be at the hospital’s emergency room, which was often as a police officer, he made sure to find out if she was on duty. Then he would look for her, bringing her a decaf caffè latte (her favorite) from a nearby coffee shop. Sweet, sweet man, great friend, kind and thoughtful, but definitely not her type. As in, he was not Ed Gingerich.

  And that thought was something that shamed her. Why didn’t she want to be treated well by a man? What was wrong with her? She seemed drawn to the Ed-types like a moth to the flame and dismissed the Matt-types. Something was definitely wrong with her.

  Her mother had a theory, though her mother was never without a theory. Tillie Yoder Stoltzfus believed that Ruth always kept one foot out the door of wherever she was or with whomever, ready to move on if things got too complicated.

  There was some truth to that.

  But look at me now, Tillie Yoder Stoltzfus! I bought a medical practice. I have a permanent mailing address. I . . . have staying power.

  She hoped.

  She lifted a hand in a casual wave to Matt and went down a long aisle of pickup trucks, trying to decide if a pickup truck might be the best choice. Or an SUV? She didn’t want something huge, but nothing too small, either.

  As she wandered up another aisle, Matt came looking for her. “Hi there, Dok.”

  She waited until he walked up to her, a shy smile on his face. “Are you here on police business?”

  “No. Actually, I was seeing if there might be a van I can rent for a camping trip to Yellowstone I’m taking with my cousins in a few weeks.”

  “Any word about the murder case at the Inn at Eagle Hill?”

  “Murder case? Why does everyone keep calling it a murder?” Matt frowned. “There’s nothing conclusive yet about the guest’s death. Anything that’s floating around is pure conjecture. Nothing but rumor. And I’d appreciate it if you would let others know that.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize that.” She was a little surprised by the tinge of annoyance in his voice. “I’ll pass the word.”

  Softening, he said, “So, it happened. You did it. You bought Dr. Finegold’s practice.”

  “Yes. Effective immediately. Dr. Finegold is probably sitting on a beach in Florida. I’ve hung my shingle and am open for business.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to sound authoritative. “And I would appreciate it if you would let others know that.”

  He grinned. “I’ll pass the word.” He gazed around at the trucks. “Are you looking to buy a truck?”

  “Maybe.” She started walking down the aisle, looking over each car and truck. “I’d like something that can get me through a snowstorm in the middle of the night.”

  “Why?” Matt’s eyebrows lifted. “To make house calls?”

  She nodded, peering into a blue truck’s cab.

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Hold on to that thought until I actually have some patients. The Amish are slow to embrace anything or anyone new, especially a female doctor.”

  “I always thought your nickname was a step toward acceptance.” He shrugged. “It’s like . . . getting anointed.”

  “I have my brother to thank for that.” She adored David, always had. Ed might have been the reason she came to Stoney Ridge in the first place, but David was the reason she had stayed. And his children too. And now Birdy. She loved them all. She felt loved by them all. It didn’t occur to her that she had missed being a part of a family until she accepted David’s invitations to come to his home. The very first time, Christmas, a few years ago, was as nourishing as a drink of cold water on a hot summer day. She hadn’t realized how dehydrated her soul had become.

  “So . . . Ed Gingerich must have been disappointed that you left the hospital.”

&nb
sp; Matt didn’t like Ed and made no secret about it. Then again, Matt made no secret of anything he felt. Unless it was official police business, of course. Then he would act as if he was guarding state secrets. But she respected that quality in him. “Let’s just say that Ed’s feelings are not something I considered in making this decision.”

  Matt grinned.

  “Stop looking so happy,” Dok said, calmly looking back at him and smiling as she made her way down another row of larger cars and trucks. “These are so big.” She walked in a wide circle, frowning. “I’m looking for something easier to manage. Reliable, dependable, determined.” She turned toward Matt and froze. “I think I’ve found what I’ve been looking for!”

  He put his hand to his chest. “You mean . . . me?”

  She pointed to the silver SUV behind him. “I was talking about the car.”

  Yesterday, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. This morning, gray clouds hung heavy over Stoney Ridge, threatening a summer storm. The sky matched Dok’s mood as she unpacked a box of medical supplies, wondering if they’d ever be used, if she’d ever get shelves built for them. She couldn’t afford to hire any office help yet, but it didn’t really matter. So far, her only patient had been her brother.

  She did have one appointment today, but she wasn’t sure why the woman was coming to see her. Nora Miller had left a voicemail on her phone, saying she planned to stop in today.

  Nora’s daughter was the nine-year-old girl who had nearly died at the hospital from a burst appendix. Dok felt a spike of concern as she wondered why Nora was coming to the office. The hospital would have no doubt let Nora know that Dok had been terminated after the error. She knew how influential a woman like Nora, imbued with a matriarchal dignity, could be among the Amish community. Dok doubted that Nora would say anything of overt blame to others, but she fully expected her to quietly discourage anyone from coming to her practice. That would be the Amish way. Quite frankly, she didn’t blame her.