by Ruth Reid
The man spun around to face Alvin. “Are you Mr. Diener?”
Amanda’s cry reached the sitting room. Mattie gently closed the front door, leaving the matter to Alvin, and went to check on her daughter.
Amanda’s diaper was soaked. No wonder she was fussy. Guilt niggled at Mattie’s conscience. She couldn’t remember a time she ever slept in this late. Mattie unfastened the pins on the drenched cloth.
Amanda rubbed her eyes. “Hungahrich.”
“I know. I’ll feed you after I get you out of these wet clothes.” Mattie grabbed a clean cloth from the chest of drawers, removed the soiled one, and dropped it into the diaper pail. Lying in a wet diaper had given her a rash. Red splotches were even going down the back of her legs. She lathered the area with a paste mixture of zinc oxide, aloe, and coconut oil, pinned the new diaper in place, and changed her out of her bedclothes and into a dark-green dress.
When she checked on Nathan, he was still asleep. She would wake him once breakfast was ready. He loved oatmeal, especially when she added a dollop of honey or maple syrup. As for Amanda, she had already unfastened the flap on Mattie’s dress to nurse.
Mattie settled into the wooden rocker in the bedroom to nurse Amanda. So many things to do. Closing her eyes, she compiled a mental list. Laundry. Barn chores. Pull weeds in the garden. Her stomach growled. Breakfast. Honey. She hadn’t checked the hives in a while. Perhaps Alvin would collect the honeycombs. Her thoughts flitted to the unwelcomed visitor. She was thankful Alvin had been there to handle the man. She and the others weren’t interested in selling the mineral rights. Once everyone received the information packets in the mail, Bishop Yoder had called a meeting to discuss the options. Though financial stability was tempting, the men voted unanimously not to accept the offer. Entering into such an arrangement would jeopardize their ability to remain separate from the world.
Her thoughts shifted to the customer orders she had to prepare. Mary needs another batch of herb tea for her leg cramps. Ann, what was it she needed? Upper respiratory congestion or was it something for horsefly bites? And Lois, she ordered something. The list was in the greenhaus. Her mind was going a million directions. Why couldn’t she just enjoy a few moments of peace while she cradled Amanda in her arms? It wouldn’t be long before her daughter grew independent. She had tried weaning Nathan prior to Amanda’s arrival, but he must have sensed the turmoil when Andy passed away. He clung to her even more. He weaned himself a few months ago, prior to his third birthday. On rare occasions, usually late at night when he wasn’t feeling well, he would still snuggle up beside her and fall to sleep nursing. He needed the closeness of his mother, and she never discouraged him.
Nathan padded into Amanda’s bedroom, rubbing his eyes with his balled fists.
“Guder mariye,” she said.
He dropped his hands and squinted.
“Hungahrich?” After not eating much the last few days, he should be starved.
He gestured to his tummy and turned toward the door, his backside wet.
Mattie sighed. He hadn’t wet the bed in several months. “Nathan, honey, we need to get you changed first.”
Amanda pulled away, satisfied and ready to get busy playing. “At least one of mei children will have eaten before noon,” Mattie chided as she rose from the chair. His bed sheets would need laundering also. At the rate her to-do list was growing, it already felt like she was eating dust two steps behind the mule.
Bo wasn’t one to grumble about being called into work on his day off. Apparently they were shorthanded. Norton’s car was in the lot, and he rarely worked on Fridays. He headed into the building and went directly to Norton’s office to check in.
“Only took you an hour and a half. Not bad.” Davis peered over a mug of something steaming, an impish twinkle in her eyes. “Something keep you up late last night?”
“I was in the middle of the lake when I got the call.” He stared at her a moment. Definitely not the fashion statement she’d made last night. She needed to let her hair down. That bun, even without a fishnet, made her look matronly. Yet her low-buttoned blouse and the string of pearls around her neck stated otherwise. He turned to Norton. “What do you need me for?”
Norton motioned to Davis. “Erica is getting ready to head over to Badger Creek. It’s her first field assignment, and I thought you could ride along.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Is there another case you’d like me to walk her through? I closed the Diener case.”
“Which is why I want you to go to Badger Creek.” Norton tapped his pen on a pad of paper. “It would look better for the department if the two of your reports were in agreement.”
Bo drew a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll go.” But he wasn’t about to compromise his integrity and change his report. Unless today’s investigation gave him reason. He glanced at Davis, ignoring her pageant smile. “Be ready to go in ten minutes.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Great, dragging him in today was a game to her. Bo shot a dagger at Norton, who merely shrugged. Leaving the office, he strode to his desk, logged into his computer. Perfect sunny day and he was at work. He brought up the file and printed it. He wanted a copy of the notes he’d taken from the interview and the report he had filed. No sense repeating the same questions he’d already asked the mother. He removed the warm documents off the printer and tucked them into his briefcase. Only one more thing he needed to do. He grabbed his insulated mug and went to the break room. Perhaps caffeine would take the edge off his poor attitude. He despised being manipulated. If his character assessment of Davis was correct, Norton was her puppet. Bo would be next if he wasn’t careful.
He stopped in front of Davis’s desk. “You ready?”
“Oh, has it been ten minutes?” She didn’t wait for his response. She opened the bottom drawer of her desk and removed her purse.
They made it to the front door and Bo stopped. “You have all your paperwork?”
“Yes.” She tapped her briefcase.
“Including a signed judge order?”
“No, should I get one? We’ll have to stop by the golf course on the way.”
“You happen to know the tee times for the judges?” Figures.
“One is all I need. And he happens to be playing with my father and a county commissioner or two. I think as many business deals are made these days on the greens as are in their offices. The county plans to take bids for fracking. I’m sure your mother knows about it.”
“Maybe so. She does like to golf.” Bo pushed the door open and held it for her. He wasn’t about to chase a judge across the fairway at Forest Hills Country Club. He headed down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. “I’ll let you take the lead, unless you don’t feel comfortable.”
She stopped midstep and swung to face him. “Bo, don’t try to insult me. I have the same qualifications as you.”
“Same degree, yes, but don’t fool yourself into believing you have anywhere near my observation skills.” He continued toward the parking lot. “You can’t learn it all from a book, Davis,” he said over his shoulder.
Her heels clacked behind him. She caught up to him. “You’re not so perfect. Your original report had multiple holes.”
“Such as?”
“You spent two hours with the mother in the hospital. You didn’t even talk with the child. Or the physician. And you didn’t investigate the living conditions. Maybe you should go back to following the basic guidelines in the book.”
“Perhaps you can show me how it’s done.”
She tilted her face, nose up, with a convincing air of authority. “I think we should talk with the physician first.”
“Okay.” He doubted the physician would be available this late in the day on a Friday, but who knows, someone swayed Norton to come into the office on his normal day off.
Davis pawed through her purse, pulled out a set of keys, and jingled them. “I can drive.”
He scanned the lo
t. “I suppose the double-parked convertible over there is yours?”
Her big green eyes sparkled. “A birthday gift from my father. It doesn’t look like it’ll rain today, so we can put the top down.”
“Tempting, but we better take mine.” He clicked the trunk release on the remote keypad and it popped open. Bo pulled out two child’s car seats. He opened the back door of the sedan and fastened the first seat into the center section.
She leaned against the car. “You make installing one of those look easy. I’m impressed.”
“You shouldn’t be.” He smiled smugly. “If you had any field experience under your belt, you would know how to install one and”—he motioned to her two-seater Mercedes—“that your little car isn’t ideal for this line of work. Sometimes you have to transport multiple children from a location.”
“Duly noted.” She saluted.
He motioned to the second car seat. “Your turn.”
“You’re testing me, really?”
“Sure.” He motioned to the seat again and waited.
She picked up the chair. “I, um . . . I wasn’t paying attention.”
He took the car carrier from her and belted it in. He would show her another time. That is, if the occasion arose. Something told him she wouldn’t be taking any more field assignments. He tugged on the unit. “You always want to make sure it’s secure.”
“Got it.”
“I hope so.”
She strolled around to the other side of the car and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Another thing,” he said as he clicked his seat belt in place. “Take off that necklace.”
“Why?” Her hand went to her neck, her fingers touching the pearls. “This was my mother’s.”
“It makes you vulnerable. Most of the calls you’ll get are in bad neighborhoods. Someone will take you down for it. That’s after they’ve stripped your car while you were inside the run-down apartment building fending off a drunken parent who refuses to release their child.”
She gulped.
“You sure you want field experience? You could sit poolside at the country club until you leave for Harvard and never get your hands dirty.”
She sat quietly a half second, then narrowed her eyes. “We’re investigating an Amish widow. Do you think someone’s going to come at me with a pitchfork?”
“No.” He started the engine. “But take off the necklace anyway. You’d be surprised at the strength a panicky kid has when they’re being taken away from their mother. If the string of pearls doesn’t break, it’ll choke you.”
She worked the clasp on her necklace without success. Then shifting in her seat so that her back was facing him, she tipped her head down. “Will you help me, please?”
The sweet scent of jasmine wafted into his senses as he fumbled with the clasp. He should have rolled down the window to get a breeze or at least turned on the air conditioning. The heat index in the car had to be a hundred degrees.
“Can you get it?” She unfastened her seat belt and slid closer.
Heat pricked the back of his neck; he was keenly aware of her manipulative move. There. Free. The necklace dangled between his thumb and index finger.
“Thanks.” She shot him a luminous smile. A mastered skill she no doubt practiced countless times in the mirror.
“My pleasure.” Bo cranked the air on high, shifted into reverse, and backed out of the parking spot. He eased out into traffic, and the first several miles passed in silence.
“It’s a nice day for a ride.” She gazed out the window. “Not a cloud in the sky.”
Nice day to be floating on the lake. His thoughts drifted to the dream he had earlier. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen himself in the hospital bed nor felt his lungs expanded by the artificial ventilator. He’d experienced similar dreams after his accident and didn’t understand them then either. The words rolled over in his mind: “Like a farmer plants seed in the ground, so I’ve planted you . . .”
Chapter Eight
A car door slammed, then another. Mattie stopped potting the foxglove seeds and glanced out the greenhouse window that faced the driveway. She didn’t recognize the silver sedan, but having unexpected customers wasn’t unusual. Ever since she had hung the sign at the end of the driveway advertising herbs for sale, she’d had a steady flow of new customers.
“I’m out here,” she called to the man and woman climbing the front porch steps. She probably needed another sign directing people to the greenhouse. Mattie did a quick inventory check. Rosemary. Lavender. Mint. Most of the bestsellers were on hand. Others like chamomile and echinacea were still hanging and not quite dry enough for packaging.
She glanced down at Nathan straddling the baby lamb. The two of them were inseparable. Amanda was sitting on the workbench, dirty head to toe from filling black soil into a clay pot, then dumping it out.
A woman poked her head inside the greenhouse. Dressed in cream-colored pants and a sheer blouse, she looked out of place on Mattie’s farm. But so were the majority of the Englischers who bought herbs from her.
“Can I help you?” Mattie wiped her dirty hands on a rag.
“Are you Martha Diener?”
“Jah.” Mattie took a step forward, but when a clay pot shattered on the cement floor behind her and Amanda started to wail, she spun around to check on her daughter. As she did, Mattie caught a glimpse of a suspenders-wearing man holding a briefcase in her peripheral vision. Another drilling representative, no doubt. These house calls had to stop. She wasn’t selling her land.
Mattie scooped Amanda into her arms. Her daughter quieted herself by shoving her filthy fingers in her mouth and sucking on them. Mattie glanced down at Nathan. “Kumm mitt mich.”
“Boppli.” He pointed at the lamb.
“Tell the boppli good-bye. We need to go in the haus nau.” She maintained a calm tone while instructing him in Pennsylvania Deitsch. He continued petting the lamb. She supposed all children started testing authority around the age of three, but lately, Nathan had given her patience a workout. Now wasn’t the time to resist her instruction. She bent down and reached for his hand. But instead of taking it, he jerked away from her and tucked his hands under his armpits.
“Mrs. Diener,” the woman said, “I’d like to—”
“You’ll have to wait a minute.” Mattie hadn’t meant to sound brash, but she had a much bigger problem to deal with at the moment. Her son couldn’t get away with being disrespectful. “Spare the rod, spoil the child,” she muttered under her breath as she set Amanda on the ground outside of the greenhouse. She went back inside for Nathan. Not feeling well and having been closed up in the house, she understood why he wanted to spend more time with the lamb. As difficult as it was raising him alone, she refused to give in to his disobedience just because an Englischer wanted to buy her mineral rights. She picked him up and held him tight as he thrashed about.
Nathan fought harder, arms flailing as they left the greenhouse, left the bawling lamb. In an attempt to wrangle him, she inadvertently butted heads with him. His forehead landed hard on the bridge of her nose. The sharp blow stole her breath and made her teary-eyed.
“You’re filled with vinegar today,” she rasped. No more honey in the oatmeal. She’d added extra today hoping it would entice him to eat, and now his sudden burst of energy was more than she could handle.
“Boppli, boppli.” He leveraged his foot against her and pushed away. Slipping from her grip, he toppled over, his face inches from hitting the gravel driveway before the man lunged forward and caught him.
The woman with him gasped.
“Settle down, son,” the man said in a gentle but firm voice. He eyed Nathan carefully. “You almost cracked your skull.”
Nathan stilled. So did Mattie.
Recognizing the man as the one who had spoken with her at the hospital, Mattie took in a sharp breath. She snatched Nathan from his grip. “What are you doing here?”
The woman, wearing heels that l
ooked like they were supported by rafter spikes, spoke first. “We’ve come to ask you a few questions.”
What more could they possibly want to ask her? She locked eyes with the man. “I answered your questions.”
He nodded. “I know.”
The woman swatted at a fly. “May we go inside and talk?”
Mattie picked up Amanda. She couldn’t stop the state worker when he came into her son’s hospital room, but this was her farm, her property. She didn’t have to invite them inside her home. “I’d rather nett.” She moved past them and dashed toward the house.
“Why did you leave the hospital AMA?”
The woman’s accusatory tone barbed Mattie. She halted in the center of the driveway and spun around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, will you leave mei family alone?”
The woman wobbled over the gravel drive, her spiked heels turning her ankles.
The man cut in front of the woman, his blue eyes radiating compassion. “Mrs. Diener, we received word that you left the hospital before the doctor discharged your son. Is that true?”
“The doktah never came back to see him.”
His brows rose. “Usually the doctor only makes rounds once a day. They will often monitor a patient’s progress remotely either through the computer or by receiving a report over the phone by the nurse. Did anyone explain that to you?”
She shook her head. “But it shouldn’t matter. Nathan is fine. He hasn’t spiked a fever since we left.” The state workers didn’t look convinced. “His face is red from the heat. It-it must be eighty degrees today. I didn’t harm mei child. I give you mei word.” She eased Nathan and Amanda to the ground and held their shoulders as she whispered in Pennsylvania Deitsch for them to go inside the house. Thankfully, Nathan took his sister’s hand and they both scurried inside.
The woman leaned against the man’s broad shoulder. “She’s talking in code,” she said under her breath.
He shook his head.