She knew them now, and she would find ways to use them.
God would show her ways to bless others.
“I have put my rumschpringe completely behind me.”
Jacob closed his eyes, satisfied at last. “Your mother will be froh. Now all you need to do is choose one of the fine boys from the area to marry.”
“Back less than twenty-four hours and you want to be rid of me?”
“We need bopplin in the house.”
“Babies will be coming soon enough from Adam and Leah.”
“They’re a blessing, Annie—children are an inheritance from the Lord.” Jacob began to nod, then fell into a light slumber.
“Indeed they are,” Annie whispered.
Her father’s words made her smile. He was always one to say exactly what was on his mind. But his talk of grandkinner also renewed an ache in her heart she had struggled with for the past year.
Most of the girls she had grown up with had wed already. She had been home in the summer and bumped into both Mary and Elizabeth. Her freinden had been so froh to see her, folding her in their embrace—clumsily because they had both been heavy with child. Freinden from her childhood, married less than a year and about to be mothers.
The glow about them was undeniable.
And yes, she had felt a pang of envy.
At the way they talked of their husbands and their homes. At how their hands would fall to their stomachs in a protective way. But more for the fact they knew with no doubt what they wanted in life.
Why was it so easy for them?
And why did she feel so torn?
Tears again threatened to fall, and she closed her eyes against them. Perhaps she was more tired than she had realized. Or maybe her emotions would settle down after a few weeks at home.
Walking around her father’s bed to straighten his covers, she glanced out the window and saw three men walking toward the house.
They walked resolutely against the cold December wind, dark coats flapping, posture slightly bent, and each holding one hand to his black hat in an effort to keep it firmly atop his head.
It might have been a comical sight any other day, but today it struck her as bittersweet.
Her bruder Adam occupied the middle spot.
To his right, she recognized David Hostetler. They’d grown up together in school, but she hadn’t seen him since she’d moved to the city. David wasn’t the reason she felt her heart slam against her chest though.
To the left of Adam strode Samuel Yoder.
Now what had made her think he would trust her to take care of his patient for a full day? She pulled in a ragged breath, squared her shoulders, and told herself to be grateful for his concern.
He was here to see her dat.
It had nothing to do with her.
Best to put up with his questions, and then be rid of him as quickly as possible. Hopefully the man had enjoyed a gut night’s sleep and would be slightly less arrogant than the evening before.
Thinking of her father’s earlier comments, Annie shook off her melancholy mood and smiled.
Samuel Yoder was one man she would not be considering for courting from the local group. The man had spoken to her as if she didn’t have a brain cell in her head.
She had no doubt God would provide her a gut husband and from her Amish brethren, but it would be a man who was loving, kind, and had a respect for women and their intellectual abilities.
From what she had seen so far, Samuel didn’t receive points in any of those categories—though no doubt he knew how best to take care of his patients.
4
Samuel stepped into Jacob’s house and resisted the urge to walk straight to his patient’s room. Instead, he stamped his boots dry on the mat and set his medical bag inside the door. Jacob wasn’t exactly his patient.
And he wasn’t a doctor!
He’d been reminding the gut people of Mifflin County that for the past ten years. They remained hesitant to take the time to see the Englisch doctors.
Fortunately in this case, Jacob and Rebekah had understood the necessity straight away. Jacob’s injuries were far more serious than anything Samuel could handle. He could, however, keep an eye on him since the man refused to remain in the hospital. Which was exactly what he planned on doing—in spite of the confrontation he’d had with Annie Weaver last night. Trouble was he hadn’t figured out exactly how to approach today’s visit.
Then she stepped out of Jacob’s room, and all of the cold from the December wind suddenly left his limbs.
Annie was wearing plain clothes—possibly the same blue dress as the night before, but with a black apron covering it. A white prayer kapp covered her chestnut curls, which had been corralled into a proper bun. She looked far more lovely than a young girl should.
Seeing her standing in the bedroom doorway quickened his pulse, confused him in a way he didn’t understand.
“Adam. Samuel, gut to see you again. David, welcome.” Her voice was like a warm spring breeze caressing his skin, though she remained on the far side of the room.
“Danki, Annie. It’s been a long time.” David stood at the door, holding his hat and smiling like a fool.
Samuel had the oddest desire to smack the kid on the back of the head. “Come in out of the doorway, David. We need to shut out the wind or Jacob will have to battle a cold as well as his injuries.”
Samuel heard the harsh tone in his voice and winced, but he couldn’t stop himself from lecturing.
“Ya. I’m letting in all of December’s bluster.” David laughed as he pulled the door closed. “Confused me seeing Annie there, all grown up and prettier than the winter birds singing in the fields.”
“David, you haven’t changed a bit—still writing poetry in your spare time.” Annie moved to the stove and began heating water as she set out five mugs. “Would you like tea or kaffi? It looked like a bitter wind as I saw you walking across from the barn.”
“Tea sounds great to me,” Adam said.
Samuel and David agreed.
“How’s Dat?” Adam asked, peering toward his father’s room.
“He’s fine. You can go and see for yourself. He’s been sleeping for the last twenty minutes or so.”
“I’m awake now,” Jacob called from his room.
Adam grinned and moved toward the bedroom door. “Better come with me, David. He’ll have instructions for you since you’ll be picking up most of the work around here.”
“I’ll be back for that tea, Annie.”
David grinned at her again as he trudged across the room, and Samuel once more felt a twinge of irritation with the lad.
He’d never spent much time with the younger Hostetler boys since he was out of school by the time they were in, but he certainly had no reason to feel such agitation with David. Not to mention that the boy was doing a fine thing by offering to come out and help while Jacob was unable to work.
Unless he was doing it in order to be close to Annie.
As he stepped toward the kitchen area, Samuel wondered where that thought had come from. He’d barely had time to examine it when Annie turned from the stove and looked at him quizzically.
“Something on your mind, Samuel?”
He stepped back and bumped into the cabinet holding Rebekah’s dishes, causing them to rattle.
Annie merely raised a delicate eyebrow and waited.
“Why would you say that?” he asked gruffly.
“You seem unusually quiet, that’s all.”
“Man has a right to be quiet, doesn’t he?”
“Sure.”
When she didn’t add anything else, he twirled his hat in his hands and tried to remember why he had stopped by again today. After all, the day was wasting, and he had a barn wall badly in need of repair.
“Something important in your medical kit?” Annie asked as she placed tea bags in each mug, then added hot water.
Watching her move gracefully around the room distracted him. When had she cha
nged from a girl to a woman?
“What?” Samuel sat, pulled his cup toward him, gulped the tea, which hadn’t yet steeped, and grimaced when the weak brew scalded his throat. Frowning at the mug, he tried to remember what she had asked.
“The black bag you set by the door. I was wondering if there was something in it you meant to bring for my father.”
There was an outright sparkle in her eyes now, and if Samuel didn’t know better he’d guess she was laughing at him. Thumping the mug down, he pushed back from the table and stood up. What he needed was to be done here and hurry back to work. He felt disoriented because he was sitting around sipping tea during the middle of the day.
Walking to the door, he picked up his leather medical kit— once a shiny black but now faded and weathered from years of use. He brought it to the table and set it next to his mug.
Last night had not gone well when he’d tried to give her instructions on how to change Jacob’s bandages. He knew Annie was a bright girl—correction—woman. But she seemed to have trouble paying attention. She’d barely listened to him at all, though he’d gone through the complete procedure twice.
He wasn’t confident this would go any better, but he owed it to Jacob to try.
Perhaps today she would be willing to listen.
“Annie.” He cleared his throat, did his best to sound teacher-like and patient, though he knew he was neither. “Last night I told you I was worried about your father’s breathing and about the infection in his leg. Do you remember?”
She actually leaned back against the kitchen counter and studied her own mug of hot tea.
“Of course I remember.”
“Did you take his pulse each hour?”
“Ya.” Now she hid behind her mug, and Samuel was certain she was trying not to laugh at him. What could she possibly find funny about this situation?
Samuel said a silent prayer as his frustration with her grew, then pushed on with his questions. “Did you change his bandages last night and again this morning?”
“I did, and I wrote the notes on the pad as you showed me.” The smile spreading across her pretty face caused her eyes to twinkle and a smattering of freckles to pop up across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
“This is very serious, Annie.” His voice was nearly a growl now. He reached into the bag and pulled out his extra stethoscope and blood pressure cuff.
“I’d like to show you how to take your dat’s blood pressure. I realize this is a lot for you to learn at once, but it’s important we know how he’s reacting to the medicine. I have this one extra stethoscope and cuff, and I’m willing to leave it with you—if you’ll pay attention and treat it carefully.”
He looked at her and waited for her reply, but of course what she said next was nothing he would have ever guessed.
“Samuel, I don’t need your things.” Annie stepped toward the table, motioned for him to put the items back into the bag. She felt her smile slip as the teasing mood she’d been enjoying passed.
Samuel looked at her sharply, as if he must have heard her wrong.
She had hoped he would be less condescending this morning, but if anything he was more so. For some reason, instead of making her angry, it had hit her funny bone.
It might have been the way he had glowered at David earlier. Suddenly she realized Samuel Yoder didn’t have issues conversing with her—he had issues speaking with anyone five or more years younger. Oddly enough, he seemed perfectly at ease when talking with her parents. The realization had helped to ease her tension.
Perhaps Samuel had spent too much time at home after his own personal tragedy.
Perhaps he’d become old before his time. After all, the man hadn’t yet reached thirty.
So she’d teased him a little—her dat had always said she could tease paint off a barn.
Then Samuel had pulled out his extra stethoscope, with that somber expression on his face and a rumble in his voice—as if he were pulling gold from a safe.
The stethoscope had changed her mood instantly.
Annie knew the importance of supplies among their community. Samuel had to scramble to purchase all he had—there was no fund to reimburse him. Neither did he request payment for the medical assistance he offered. He was, by trade, a farmer. The few supplies he had were paid for with donations, and the time he missed from work—well, she didn’t know how he made up for those precious hours.
Annie moved closer to the table.
With the medical bag resting between them, Annie realized it would be wrong to keep the truth from him any longer. She didn’t have to tell him everything about her time with the Englisch, but she should tell him what was in her apron pocket.
Before she had a chance, though, Adam and David clomped back into the room.
“Helped Dat to the bathroom. He seems much better than last night. Still weak, but better.” Adam sat down and reached for a mug of hot tea, then pulled the basket of breads left over from breakfast toward him.
“Ya, your dat’s able to boss me around just fine.” David laughed good-naturedly as he joined Adam at the table. “He’ll have no trouble instructing me how to handle the fields.”
Samuel threw a challenging look at her. “Excellent news. Let’s go see our patient, then, and I can show you how to use this properly.”
Before Annie could respond, before she could think of how to correct him, Samuel turned and walked out of the room.
Samuel stood beside her dat’s bed, already deep in discussion with him when Annie joined them.
“I don’t think it will take me until spring to find my way out of this bed,” Jacob muttered, then began coughing as the congestion that had settled in his lungs battled its way clear.
Samuel helped him through the coughing spasm, then reminded him in a firm but kind tone, “Jacob, both of your legs are broken. If you hurry your recovery, things are going to be much worse than if you follow Doctor Stoltzfus’s instructions.”
“Ya. I understand. Am I looking stupid? I only meant it doesn’t seem to me like it will take four months for a body to heal. Already I feel much better than I did yesterday.”
Glancing up at her, Samuel frowned and shook his head. “We can thank the antibiotics the doctor gave you for your improvement—”
“And Annie’s care.” Jacob reached out and patted her hand.
Samuel pulled back the bed covers to inspect her bandages. “You’re blessed to have three dochdern,” he agreed.
“That I am, and I love each one dearly, but it did my heart gut to wake up this morning and see my Annie sitting beside my bed—as if Christmas had come early.”
“You’re going to make me blush, Dat.” Annie walked around to see what Samuel was scowling at. “Something wrong with those bandages?”
Refastening them, he tucked the blankets around Jacob’s leg and fixed her with a stare. “Everything looks fine—surprisingly fine.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased.”
He looked anything but froh, however, and she still hadn’t settled on a way to tell him about the stethoscope in her pocket.
Resting his fingers lightly on Jacob’s wrist, Samuel glanced down at the watch on his arm.
“No need to do that,” Jacob said. “She’s been bothering me regularly with such nonsense.”
Annie picked up the pad of paper she’d been keeping her chart notations on and handed it to Samuel. “Maybe we could talk about this outside. I’m sure my daed would like to rest—”
“But how did you—” Samuel flipped from the first page to the second, then glanced up at her.
Annie felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Fortunately, her father seemed oblivious to the exchange taking place between them.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a piece of your mamm’s bread if you’d like to send Adam in with it.” Jacob resumed his coughing but fought his way through it. “Now that I’m awake, I am rather hungry—another sign I’m healing faster than Doc Stoltzfus thought I would.”
/> Samuel let the pad rest against the bed and turned to stare at Annie. “I don’t understand.”
“Let’s step out into the living room.” She adjusted her daed’s covers, then turned and fled the room, trusting Samuel would follow. Once in the kitchen, she placed some bread and fruit on a separate plate. “Would you take this in to him for me, Adam? If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to take a five-minute break outside.”
“Sure thing, Annie.” Adam looked at her curiously, but accepted the plate.
David pretended to study the latest issue of The Budget.
Annie grabbed her coat and practically ran outside. She couldn’t talk to Samuel about her time with the Englisch in the kitchen—not with David and Adam there, not with her dat in the next room.
She wasn’t ashamed of what she’d done.
In many ways she was proud of her work in Philadelphia, but it was complicated. Her family had long practiced an attitude of grace toward rumschpringe, believing once the years of rebellion were over the less said about them the better. Adam had spent two years traveling away from Mifflin County, then he’d come home, joined the church, and was now engaged to Leah.
Everyone assumed Annie would do the same.
She would.
Wouldn’t she? Suddenly an image of the sick kinner at Mercy Hospital popped into her mind, and she wasn’t so sure.
The front door opened and Samuel followed her out into the bitter cold, still holding the tablet she had used for a chart.
She walked around the corner of the porch, where they’d be protected from the worst of the wind. He followed, stopping less than three feet from her.
“I suppose you have questions,” she said tentatively.
“I do.” His voice was flat and hard, like the road that led to her dat’s farm.
Annie pulled her coat tighter and nodded. “All right.”
Samuel’s dark eyes pierced hers. Even from a distance of three feet they reminded her again of the horse she had loved so as a child. Samuel remained cold and aloof, though. Why did the man have to be so disapproving of her instead of a help?
Didn’t she have enough to deal with these first few days of settling back into her old life?
A Simple Amish Christmas Page 4