Love Rekindled

by Serena B. Miller

  “What should I do?” Rachel said.

  “I have no idea,” Bertha said. “But we need to think of something before she ends up in the hospital.”

  “I’ll talk to Joe.”

  “Good. You do that.” Bertha pulled her black choring sweater out of the mending basket beside her chair and handed Rachel a needle and a length of string. “Now thread this. It will save me having to use my magnifying glass. Then I want you to tell me about your visit with Keturah and Ivan today.”

  “I just came from there. How on earth did you find out so soon?”

  “Don’t you remember the Amish grapevine?”

  “Cousin Eli stopped by on his way back from auction, didn’t he?” Rachel said. “I thought I saw him drive by when I was going in.”

  “Exactly. The Amish grapevine.” Bertha smiled. “Eli does his part.”

  “I love Eli but, you have to admit, he is awfully nosey,” Rachel said. “And he gossips.”

  “True, but if Eli had not been nosey about your Joe and Bobby, and brought them to our inn when Joe’s truck broke down, you would not have such a fine husband, or such a beautiful son.”

  “True,” Rachel conceded.

  “So, tell me about your visit with the Hochstetlers.”

  Rachel picked up her spatula and pot again and, between bites, recounted everything that had happened in exactly the way Bertha preferred, which meant leaving nothing out. Bertha always wanted to know the details.

  “So, Keturah and Ivan have hidden the baby with one of their relatives?”

  “They certainly gave that impression,” Rachel said.

  “Have you talked with Keturah since?”

  “I went back after Gertie and Sally left so, yes, I’ve talked with her. I asked her to tell me where the baby is. Keturah was respectful, but firm. She said it was best that I not know. I think I might have made a mistake in telling her about Mabel saying Gertie wasn’t fit to raise a child.”

  “Have you changed your opinion about Gertie?”

  “No.”

  “Then Keturah’s family is doing what they believe to be right, and she’s being protective of you by not telling you more.”

  “That’s true,” Rachel said. “But I never dreamed the Hochstetlers would do something so close to kidnapping a baby. If we don’t get this resolved, things could get truly ugly for them.”

  “I’m not the least surprised by their actions,” Bertha said. “That’s been our way down through history. As long as we believe the civil law to be just, we do our best to obey it. If it goes against our perception of what God has commanded, we will go to jail rather than go against our conscience. Or we will find a way around it—like how so many of our men served as non-combatants during some of the wars into which they were drafted.”

  “What if I’m asked to arrest them?” Rachel said. “Gertie had a court order to take Holly, and the Hochstetlers refused to obey it.”

  “If you have to arrest them, then that is what you do,” Bertha said. “They know what they are risking.”

  “But, knowing why they are doing it, how can I do that?”

  “God will give you the answer when you need it,” Bertha said. “But you must understand, midwives will always protect the babies. It is, how do you say it about your computers—hardwired into them? Keturah is like Shiphrah and Puah. She is hardwired to protect that baby.”

  “Never heard of them. Do they live around here?”

  “They were the Hebrew midwives in the Bible who were commanded to kill all the boy babies they helped birth. It was Pharaohs’ idea of birth control. He didn’t want the Hebrew population to get any bigger. He thought there were too many of them and that they would grow to a point where they were a threat to his people. The midwives risked their lives when they disobeyed the Pharaoh. They still served the Hebrew women, they continued to let the boys live—and then they lied to the king about it. They told him that their women gave birth too quickly for them to get there in time.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that it would be wise for you and the courts not to underestimate Keturah. To the marrow of her bones, she is a dedicated and caring midwife. She will risk her own life, her freedom, and maybe even lie right to your face if doing so will protect that baby she brought into the world.”

  Chapter 49

  Michael was grateful when Cassie managed to eat most of the bowl of soup he had made for her.

  “It tastes so good,” she said. “Thank you, Michael.”

  She even ate a couple bites of cracker and two grapes before she said that she was full and needed to rest.

  While she lay on the couch, he cleaned up the kitchen. He had brought no extra clothes, no toothbrush, no razor, and he had no idea what to do about tomorrow—except he knew he could not leave her here alone. He didn’t want to leave her here alone.

  The problem was, he did have people relying on him to care for their livestock and pets back home. Would Doc Peggy be able to cover for him? She had a busy business herself over in Millersburg. But maybe she and her new husband could help out for a day or two if things didn’t get too bad.

  The reassuring sound of Michael’s voice awoke Cassie. He was in the kitchen, speaking with someone on the phone. Awakening to the knowledge that he was nearby was one of the most comforting things she had ever experienced.

  She focused on his words and realized that he was speaking with another veterinarian. Sounded like he was trying to make arrangements for someone to temporarily take over his practice while he took care of her.

  On the day he walked out, he had made it abundantly clear how much he disliked living here. He had tried to tell her before, but she had not wanted to listen. Even so, he’d stuck it out for five years. How long those five years must have seemed to him. Now, it sounded like he was setting things up so that he could stay here with her indefinitely, until she got through this. That could take a long time. He knew enough about medicine to know that.

  She did not want him to do this. Yes, she needed more help than she had realized, but not at the expense of his job. Not at the expense of him.

  He hung up the phone and came in to check on her.

  “You’re awake,” he dropped into the easy chair he had always preferred. “How are you feeling?”

  “Who was that on the phone?” she asked.

  “Another veterinarian who works in Millersburg,” he said. “The residents call her Doc Peggy. Her husband is her assistant. I was asking if she could help with my practice for a while so I could stay with you. It turns out that her daughter, who recently graduated from veterinarian school, has come for a visit. The three of them are willing to cover for me.”

  “Michael,” Cassie said. “If I asked you for a favor, would you do something for me?”

  “If it is within my power, of course I will.”

  “I’ve been thinking. Would you mind taking me home?”

  “Home?” He was puzzled.

  “Sugarcreek. Your old farmhouse in Sugarcreek.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  And she was very sure. Cows. Manure. Horse flies. Amish buggies. No corporate law firm to work at. She didn’t care. As she’d lain in that giant bed, sick and alone, she’d realized that she didn’t care about anything except getting well and being with Michael. Hearing him trying to make arrangements to stay here with her had erased any doubt. Sugarcreek was not her home, Columbus was not her home, her mother’s impoverished little trailer in eastern Ohio was not her home. Michael was her home. Being with him was the only real home she had ever experienced.

  “But you need to be here with your doctors.”

  “Not all the time. There will be several days between treatments. We could go back and forth. I mean, if that works for you. I’m kind of the one on the receiving end here. It’s whatever you want to do.”

  “Do you think you’ll be strong enough to make the trip tomorrow morning?”

/>   “I’d like to try.”

  “A good night’s sleep will help.”

  “I’ll take some sleeping meds.”

  “Before you go to sleep, would you mind telling me about that temper tantrum you threw when you left Blackwell, Hart & Cooper?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Sophie told me,” he said.

  “I had no idea Sophie could be so chatty.”

  “I think you definitely made an impression on her.”

  “It was not my finest moment.”

  “Maybe not, but apparently one of your more memorable ones.”

  “I’m just hoping it doesn’t end up on YouTube. I’m really tired, Michael. How about I explain it all to you tomorrow on the ride home. Actually, there’s quite a lot I need to tell you.”

  “Does some of it have to do with this past you say you lied to me about?”

  “Yes. There’s a lot to explain.”

  “I’ll listen as long as it takes.”

  He helped her into bed, made certain she had everything she needed on her bed stand, kissed her on her forehead, and then gathered a pillow from his old side of the bed to go sleep on the couch.

  “This is a large bed,” she said. “It won’t bother me if you sleep here.”

  “It will bother me,” he said. “I won’t sleep a wink for fear that I’ll roll over and accidently hurt you. I’ll leave the door open so you can call for me if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  Cassie took one pain pill, but discovered that she did not need any sleeping meds after all. With Michael close by, she was so grateful and relieved that she fell asleep instantly and awoke the next morning feeling much better.

  Chapter 50

  “Well, would you come look at that,” Ivan said, gazing out the side window. “That’s a sight I didn’t think I would ever see.”

  Keturah had just come inside with a basket of stiff and frozen cloth diapers from the outdoor clothesline. She sat the basket down and went to stand beside Ivan.

  “Is that Cassie?” she asked. “It’s been a long time since I saw her, but she looks a lot different.”

  “Hair’s been cut,” Ivan said. “Really short. Looks like she might have lost weight too. Doesn’t seem to be feeling all that good. Look at how Michael’s helping her up those few front steps. That is not a well woman.”

  “What do you suppose is going on?” Keturah said. “Should we go over there and see if we can help?”

  “My guess is, not yet,” Ivan said. “Let them get settled a bit first.”

  “I bet Michael doesn’t have anything to eat in that house,” Keturah mused. “He never did learn to cook very well, even though I tried to teach him. He’s been so busy fighting that horse flu, I doubt he’s brought any groceries into the house.”

  “They probably won’t starve in the next half-hour,” Ivan said. “Let’s leave them alone for now.”

  “I have that soup left over from last night, and I just finished my baking for the week. I have fresh loaves of bread still warm. You know how much Michael loves my homemade bread.”

  “Yes, I do,” Ivan said. “I also know you are not paying a bit of attention to what I am saying.”

  “I think they might appreciate a pot of soup and a loaf of bread. I won’t go in. I’ll just run it over, knock on the door, and leave. That way they’ll have something nice to share without him having to go out and buy it. I have a small crock of fresh butter too. I’ll add that and a quart of applesauce. I think it will fit nicely into that basket your sister gave me.”

  She bustled off, still talking.

  “Your mother.” Ivan grinned at Noah, who was repairing a harness at the kitchen table. “What is a man to do? She does not follow my advice on this.”

  “And probably a good thing she doesn’t sometimes,” Noah pointed out. “But I think she’s giving our supper away.”

  “Not if she leaves a loaf of bread behind,” Ivan said. “Keturah’s bread and some cold milk makes a fine meal.”

  Ivan continued to watch out the window as Michael carried several pieces of luggage from the car into the house. Apparently, Cassie was coming to stay. At that moment, Ivan saw that Keturah was already walking toward Michael’s with a large basket on her arm.

  “That basket your mother is carrying looks heavy,” he observed. “I think I should go help her with it.”

  “You are as curious about Michael’s wife as I am,” Noah said. “Admit it.”

  “I am,” Ivan said, as he put on his coat. “But that does not make the basket any lighter.”

  Cassie had seen the old house before, of course, but always with a feeling of detachment. Although she knew that Michael had enormous nostalgia for his childhood home, she could never muster up any enthusiasm for the place. It was just a big, white, square farmhouse, much like every other big, white, square farmhouse in Amish country.

  Today was different. Today, when she entered, it felt like the old house gave her a hug and welcomed her home. It felt like it had a heart and soul and was trying to give her comfort—and it did give her comfort. She was worn out from the two-hour trip. She was grateful to be here.

  Huge windows, all with a view of rolling hills and pastures. Wallpaper covered all the walls. It was lightly sprigged with spring-green willow leaves. No one used wallpaper anymore, which made it feel quaint and old-fashioned. White-painted woodwork. A comfortable old green-velvet couch piled with brightly-quilted pillows. Multiple photographs of Michael’s family on the walls. A wide-planked, oak floor, aged with at least a century’s worth of wear.

  “The house will be warm soon,” Michael said. “It got a little chilly while I was gone.”

  Michael made sure she was comfortably seated in a cushy old armchair, her feet on a footstool, with an afghan tucked around her before he went back outside for her luggage. He sat it inside the door of the downstairs bedroom, then headed toward the basement.

  “I’ll unpack for you as soon as I get a fire started in the wood stove downstairs,” he said. “In the winter, the gas furnace doesn’t always heat as well as I’d like. This is an old house. There are drafts. I’ll be right back.”

  In a few moments, she heard him banging around in the basement, directly beneath where she was sitting. It was a walk-out basement, and she heard the door slam shut multiple times as he brought in firewood from where he kept it stacked outside the basement walls.

  She had heard of women who only truly fell in love with their husbands after being married several years. Now she understood. Never had she thought the sound of a man starting a fire just to keep her warm would bring tears to her eyes, but it did now. For a woman who rarely cried, she didn’t seem to be able to stop ever since Michael showed up on her doorstep.

  He had barely gotten back up the stairs when there was a knock at the door. She wasn’t used to having people come to her home, but he showed no surprise at all.

  “I wondered how long it would take,” he said, good-naturedly, as he went to the door. “It’s been nearly a whole half-hour since we pulled in the driveway. Ivan must have made Keturah wait to give us a chance to get settled.”

  When he opened the door, an older Amish couple stood outside looking very sober and solemn. She had met Keturah and Ivan before, briefly, but did not know them well. Ivan was holding a large basket, and Cassie could smell the fragrance of fresh-baked bread wafting from beneath a large, white dishtowel.

  “I tried to hold her back,” Ivan said, as Michael invited them in. “But you know how Keturah is. She was afraid you and your wife would starve to death if she waited a minute longer.”

  “That is not true,” Keturah said. “I knew you would not have anything nice for your wife to eat unless I brought it. It is good to see you again, Cassie. Are you hungry?”

  Cassie nodded. At least she was hungry now. Ever since Keturah had arrived with a swirl of snowy air and a picnic basket.

  “Good,” Keturah said. “I will le
ave Ivan with you two, to catch up, and I will go set the food out.”

  Keturah took off her coat, hung it on a wooden coat tree near the door, carefully lifted her black bonnet off her head and sat it on a side table, and then she went into Michael’s kitchen. Cassie heard crockery being placed on the table, and cabinet doors opening and closing.

  Michael took it all in stride, as though he was used to having people dropping by, bringing food, and helping themselves to his kitchen.

  Ivan hung his black, felt hat on the wooden tree, settled himself comfortably in another armchair, and ran a hand through his sparse hair. She expected him to question her about why she had suddenly appeared here in Michael’s house but, instead, he turned the conversation to livestock.

  “So, that problem with the horses. It is over?”

  “I think so,” Michael said.

  There was another knock on the door.

  “Excuse me,” Michael opened it, and this time it was a uniformed police woman whom he ushered into the living room. “Hi Rachel. Let me introduce you to my wife.”

  After introductions had been made, the policewoman removed her hat and coat, hung them up, and then chose a rocker next to Ivan.

  “I stopped by your place, Ivan. Noah, told me you were here,” Rachel said. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Keturah came to the kitchen door, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “What bad news?”

  “It is about Gertie Maddox,” Rachel said. “She and her lawyer have been busy.”

  “Then let the bad news wait for now so our appetites will not be spoiled.” Keturah frowned. “The soup is hot, everything is on the table, and I sat out an extra bowl for you, Rachel, when I heard you at the door. Everyone. Come.”

  Cassie glanced at Michael. He looked happy.

  “While everyone gets settled,” Ivan told Michael. “I will go down and check your stove. It does not seem to be putting out much heat yet.”

  “Thanks,” Michael said. “The wood was a little wet and I was in a hurry.”

  By the time everyone had taken a seat, there was another knock on the door. Everyone paused while Michael answered it.