“Poor wounded dove,” Rachel said, wishing that she could offer Shandell some relief.
James rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Why is she so sick?”
“I can’t say. But I think Doctor Trueherz will know.”
“And how will we pay for the doctor?”
Rachel winced. “From the money we were going to use to send her home?” She was almost finished with the second painting, having learned to work in a bubble and pretend that the Englishers watching her at Pepper’s shop weren’t there.
“It probably won’t be enough. Medical bills are expensive.”
“I know. Maybe she has medical insurance. We’ll have to find a way.”
Fortunately, Doc Trueherz’s wife, Celeste, sensed the urgency of Shandell’s condition. She pointed the way for Rachel to help Shandell into an exam room without delay. James followed, his face taut with concern.
“I’ll have him look at her as soon as he gets off the phone.” Celeste eased Shandell down onto the table and strapped the Velcro blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. “Just relax now. We’re going to take care of you, get you comfortable. Shandell? Can you hear me?”
“Mmm. Where’s my mommy?”
“Your mother isn’t here, but you’re going to be okay,” Rachel soothed her.
Celeste Trueherz pumped the cuff up, asking Rachel, “How long has she been disoriented like this?”
“That started this morning, but she’s been sick for a week or so.” Rachel described Shandell’s symptoms as Celeste took notes on a clipboard.
“At the very least, she seems to be dehydrated.” Celeste rubbed Shandell’s upper arm. “We can give her some IV fluids here, but the doc might want her in the hospital.”
The hospital! That would cost a small fortune. Rachel shot an anxious look at James, but he seemed surprisingly calm as he reached over and took her hand.
“We’ll do whatever it takes,” James said, for her benefit and for Celeste’s. “And we’ll pay her bill.”
Celeste looked up from the clipboard, squinting at them. “Why would you do that? Besides, she may have health insurance. But we’re not going to worry about that right now. Doc treats everyone, insurance or not. Either way, she’s going to be here awhile.” Celeste turned to James. “You had better get over to Dr. Finley’s office. We know where to find you if we need you.”
Soon after James left, Henry Trueherz strolled into the exam room with Celeste on his heels. “Morning, Rachel. I see you’ve brought me a friend.” He picked up the chart. “Sick for a week or more. Okay. We’ll have a look at her and we might want to run some tests. Have a seat out in the waiting room and we’ll come get you as soon as we’re done with the exam.”
Rachel nodded, then went over to take Shandell’s hand. “I’ll be right outside.”
As Rachel backed away, Shandell reached for her. “No! Mommy, don’t go.”
Moved, Rachel touched her cheek. No one had ever called her Mommy before, and although she knew it was the fever talking, it pleased her to imagine the children who might need their feverish brow soothed one day. She hoped and prayed that she and James would marry in the fall and start their own family soon.
Thirty minutes later, Rachel was summoned to another room in the clinic—this one with three hospital beds. Fast asleep, Shandell seemed tiny, tucked into the white sheets of one of the beds. A few tubes ran down her body, one taped to her arm and another clipped onto one fingertip. Rachel had seen these gadgets used on James when he had been in the hospital.
“Is it very bad?” she asked Doc Trueherz, who was writing some notes on a clipboard.
“She’s definitely dehydrated, but I think she’ll be fine once we get some fluids in her,” the doctor said. “It sounds like you used some sound home remedies, trying to treat her. Some of those things probably helped.”
“But she wasn’t getting better,” Rachel said.
He nodded. “We’re thinking it’s a bacterial infection. Could come from unpasteurized milk, but I know the Lapps don’t have a cow. You mentioned that she’s been using water from a stream. My best guess is that that water is the source of the bacteria. She’s got to stay away from that creek. In the meantime, antibiotics aren’t called for here. We’ve just got to flush this thing out.”
This was something Rachel hadn’t thought of. “Does she need bottled water?”
“At the very least. We’re going to keep her here for the day. I know that James finishes his treatment around two or three. We’ll get Shandell hydrated and see how she’s feeling this afternoon. You’re free to stay with her or come back later.”
Rachel thanked the doctor and headed out. As she walked to Art at Heart, a new burden was heavy on her shoulders. Where would Shandell live now? Weeks ago, Rachel might have been able to convince her parents to take the girl in for a bit. But now? After she and James had kept things a secret for so long?
They had really gotten themselves into a pickle. Whatever happened from here, there was one thing she knew for sure. They were going to need that money to help Shandell, and the sooner the better. Good thing she was almost finished with the second of the three pieces for Kiki Grant.
Pepper was helping a customer when Rachel entered the shop. In Rachel’s work space, the painting seemed to smile at her. The crocuses in the foreground were bold and bright and hopeful in front of the peaceful scene of a Sunshine and Shadow quilt draped over a clothesline. She removed her black sweater and set to work on the finishing touches in the sky, the sunbeams and the small flowerbed near the house.
As she worked, Rachel tuned out the conversation behind her until one voice broke through the glaze.
“The rumors were true. Rachel King, painting before our eyes!”
Rachel turned to see the designer, Kiki Grant, with her hands clasped under her chin.
“Is that the piece you’re doing for me?” Kiki’s eyes grew round with wonder.
“It is.” Rachel stood back, her paintbrush tipped in the air. “What do you think?”
“I love it! I am thrilled to death. And the client will be so pleased, too.” Kiki stepped forward and did a quick check with a paper tape measure from her pocket. “The dimensions are perfect. It’s all good, and nearly complete, right?”
Rachel nodded. “Finished today, I think.”
“Fabulous. I had to stop in when I heard that you were painting here. What a great idea. Everyone around here is talking about you.”
The idea of her name being bandied about made Rachel want to take her paints home to the safety of her old room. “I needed a place to paint in Paradise while waiting on a friend. He’s getting medical treatment at the clinic, and he needs to be here every day.”
“Aren’t you a saint.” Kiki pressed a hand to her breast. “You know, we have a lot of wonderful local artists in the area, but none of the painters are Amish, and that’s what people want. Authenticity, the real deal.”
“Well, I am real.” Rachel smiled, knowing that she could not properly explain why she didn’t want all this attention.
When Kiki took a photo of the painting to show her client, Rachel thought of the time it would take to complete the next painting and her immediate needs. She asked if it would still be possible to work on commission.
“How about this? I’ll come back tomorrow for the finished painting, and I’ll give you a check for the first two.”
“That would be helpful,” Rachel said, “but you can pay Elsie Lapp when you pick up the painting at the Country Store. And I’ll have the third painting to you in a few weeks.”
“Oh, I know your word is good,” Kiki said. “That’s one of the benefits of working with Amish people like you.”
Rachel knew that there were good and bad folks in all walks of life, but she was glad the Amish were known for their honesty. She thanked the designer and got back to work so that she could finish the painting.
Tomorrow, they would have more than enough money for Shandell to travel home, though she probably wouldn
’t be well enough. Wasn’t it peculiar? They would have the money at last, but now Shandell was sick. You never knew what the Almighty had in store for you. As Mamm always said, nothing lasts forever, not even your troubles.
Shandell rolled over on her side and snuggled into the crisp white sheet. To be nestled in a bed—even this stiff cot in Dr. Trueherz’s office—was heavenly. She reached for the covered cup on the end table and took a few sips of Gatorade through the straw.
“You’re awake,” came a voice from the door.
Shandell rolled over to face Celeste, the doctor’s wife, who seemed to be in charge of the office. They’d had such a nice talk earlier when Shandell had awakened on the cot in the doctor’s infirmary. Celeste reminded Shandell of her own mother, whom Celeste had promised to reach for her.
“And you’re drinking. That’s good. Remember, small sips for now.”
“How long have I been asleep?” Shandell asked, her voice creaking.
“A few hours. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I can think straight, at least. My body isn’t so weak, though I’m still wiped out.”
“That’s understandable. I finally got a call through while you were sleeping. Your mother is anxious to talk to you.”
“My mom?” Hope sparked in Shandell’s chest. “Is she here?”
“She’ll be heading this way as soon as she finishes work this afternoon. When she heard you were sick, she was ready to lam right out of there, but I told her she was better off waiting. You’ll probably be napping most of the day, and the doc wants to keep you on IV fluids through the afternoon.”
“Okay.” Shandell was happy to stay right here in this soft bed and wait for her mother. “My mom is coming. You don’t know what a relief that is.”
Celeste patted her shoulder. “Oh, I know. A mother’s love is the best medicine.”
“I really miss her.”
“She can’t wait to see you. Said she was sick with worry. I told her I’d take good care of you until she got here.” Celeste pumped up the cuff until it squeezed Shandell’s arm.
“I can’t believe it. This is the end of a really long journey.”
“So I heard. Your mom said you’ve been away for weeks, and Rachel told me you’ve been living in a sugaring shack.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without James and Rachel’s help.” As Shandell pictured her mother’s broad smile, she remembered the conversation they’d had the night before when Mom had told her that she’d left Phil. At the time, it had seemed devastating to lose their home that way, but now, with the perspective of a clearer mind, Shandell realized it was a positive development. It would be good to be free of Phil and his illness, and wherever Chelsea and Shandell went, they would make a home together. Living in the sugar shack, Shandell had learned that a home was not the four walls around you, but the people you shared your days with.
“Your blood pressure looks good,” Celeste said, “and your fever is gone. You young people bounce back fast.”
Shandell smoothed her palm over the white sheet. “This is such a tidy place. Like a little hospital.”
“We aren’t equipped like that, but the doc had the idea to put some beds into this room, and I have to say, they’ve gotten plenty of use. The bulk of our patients are Amish folk, who usually do not want to be checked in to a hospital. If their condition isn’t too serious, Henry will let them stay here during the day and monitor their progress. It saves them a trip to Lancaster, as well as a good deal of money.”
“Well, thanks for saving me, too,” Shandell said, her heart full of gratitude.
Celeste smiled as she made a note on her clipboard. “You are very welcome, but it’s what we do.”
As Shandell sipped more of her drink, she felt a swell of appreciation for this place, Lancaster County, where people put themselves out to lend a hand to strangers. She was glad Mom was coming, but she felt a twinge of regret at the thought of leaving Halfway behind.
When James found Shandell in Dr. Trueherz’s office at the end of the day, she was sitting up, eating a Popsicle, and her face was pink and healthy. He was glad to see her back to her old self again.
“I have good news.” Shandell smiled, her lips purple from the grape Popsicle. She was still hooked up to an IV line; James recognized the tubing running into her arm and the bag of clear fluids hanging from a metal hook beside her. “My mom is coming to get me! Celeste talked to her on the phone, and she insisted. She’s driving up when she gets out of work.”
“And the doctor says you should be good to go by then,” Celeste told Shandell, “though you’ll need to take it easy.”
“Do you know what made Shandell sick?” James asked.
“Doc thinks it was something environmental, possibly unpasteurized milk, or bacteria in the water. Shandell explained how she was drawing water from the creek. Let me tell you, E. coli is not your friend.”
“Well, we only have pasteurized milk at my house,” James said. “So it must have been the water.”
“Which I always heated up,” Shandell said. “I saw in one of those survival shows that you should heat water from a stream before you drink it, just in case.”
“A very good idea.” Celeste nodded as she tossed away the disposable thermometer stick. “But did you bring it to a boil? Did you boil the water you washed your hands in? The water you used to brush your teeth and wash?”
“Not exactly,” Shandell admitted.
“That stream contains many strains of bacteria, and it’s very likely that bacteria is causing the diarrhea and subsequent dehydration. We won’t have the test results back for another day or two, but we’re going to treat this as if it’s E. coli from the stream. Which means, no more exposure to this water source.”
“That won’t be a problem, since I’m going back to Maryland,” Shandell said.
“Everything looks good.” Celeste smiled as she wrote on the chart. “I’m taking out the IV; that will give you more mobility.”
James nodded slowly. “So … at last, you get to go home.”
“Back to Maryland, but we can’t go home. Mom is splitting up with my stepfather, so I guess we’ll be in a motel for the time being. Mom told me all about it last night when I called her from the phone shanty. I think I was too sick to totally comprehend it.”
“This makes sense of some of the puzzling things you said on our way here this morning,” James said, wondering how she could be smiling when things had gone so very wrong.
“Really? What did I say?” When he told her a few of the things, she moaned. “Aw. I really was a mess.”
“A high fever like that can bring on a sort of delirium,” Celeste said.
James nodded. “You were in a bad way. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I am. Especially now that Mom is coming for me.” Shandell’s dark eyes shone in the light. “But I’m going to miss you guys. It’ll be nice to have a bed and running water and all, but I will definitely miss our chats.”
James squeezed the armrests of his chair as he looked up at the Englisher girl who had seemed so mysterious when he’d first stumbled upon her in the back of the orchard. Now he could see that she was not that different, not in the ways that mattered. “It’s been good knowing you, Shandell.”
When Rachel arrived a few minutes later and learned the news, there was much hugging and back-patting and sighing between the two women. James held back a grin as he watched them say their good-byes with promises to write letters—snail mail, as Shandell called it. The two of them were like peas in a pod.
While Rachel went around to the hitching post behind the clinic, Shandell walked James out to the vehicle parking lot.
“How come you never let anyone push you?” Shandell asked as they stepped into the spring day, a breezy day with short stretches of bright sun peeking out between fast-moving clouds.
“I used to think that was the sign of a weak man,” James said. “Now, not so much. The more I can move
on my own, the more I see that walking is not what makes a man strong. If there’s a strong, sturdy oak inside, no one notices the chipped bark on the outside.”
Her nose wrinkled as she squinted. “Is that a riddle?”
He chuckled. “Sort of.” The riddle of life.
She asked him to take good care of her possessions, which he and Rachel would hold on to until she knew her mailing address in Maryland.
“I don’t mean to be a baby, but please, please, be careful with my Bible Stories book,” Shandell said. “My dad used to read it with me, and it’s one of the last keepsakes that remind me of him.”
“We will be very careful with your book,” James promised.
Both James and Shandell were watching the parking lot entrance, waiting for Rachel to pull off the quiet side street with the buggy, when a dark green car cruised by, its motor roaring louder than most.
Shandell jerked upright. “Is that …” Her face reflected her horror. “It is! It’s Gary.”
The hairs on the back of James’s head rose, his skin prickling in alarm. This was the man who had lied to Shandell and left her a hundred miles from home.
Shandell was already looking around for a place to hide, but they were in a wide-open spot on the center of the pavement. She lunged over to the right and dove behind the closest parked car.
“Did he see me?” she called to James. “Did he stop?”
“I don’t think so,” James said under his breath as he watched the slow-moving car glide off down the street, the red taillights disappearing behind the bank on the corner. “He’s gone.”
“Oh, that was close.” Shandell rose, dusting her hands off on the seat of her jeans. “What is he doing here?”
Was Gary still looking for Shandell, or had he come back for another reason? There was no telling, but it would be best for Shandell to stay out of his way. “You’d best be careful.”
“I will. I’d better get back in.”
She was interrupted by the roar of an engine and a squeal of brakes. Dust rose as the big green car slid into the parking lot and skidded to a stop.
A Simple Hope Page 25