Arms of Mercy

by Ruth Reid

  “Nay, and I’m nett sure this is a gut idea.”

  “Look, Mr. Graber. The group of attorneys who employ me are ruthless, which is good news for you, because at Rulerson, Markel, and Boyd, we go above and beyond to win huge settlements for our clients. That means your hospital and doctor bills will be paid in full, and that’s in addition to the lofty settlement you’ll get for your pain and suffering. Our firm will put Budget Bus in a choke hold and squeeze every dime from their big pockets. How does that sound to you?”

  Elijah thought several moments. Over the years, Edwina’s hospital and doctor fees had put a hardship on her parents. If he had any chance of marrying Catherine, he wouldn’t be much of a provider if he was strapped with unpaid medical bills. Still, lawsuits went against everything he believed.

  Alex placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward in the chair. “What’s causing your hesitation to make a big chunk of change?” He chuckled nervously. “Have you already won the lottery?” He continued without giving Elijah a chance to reply. “Your injuries are a windfall waiting to be paid out. You don’t want to miss out on what’s due you, if you know what I mean.”

  “Right nau, I don’t care about money. Sure, it’d be nice to have mei hospital bills paid for, but all I care about is finding Catherine. We were traveling to Florida together.”

  Alex quirked a brow. “So, she’s another passenger?”

  Elijah nodded. “I have to find her.”

  “Absolutely.” Alex poised a soft-tipped pen over his device. “I’ll jot down some information and see what I can do to find her for you. How would that be?”

  “You think you can find Catherine?”

  “It’s what I do. I found you, right?”

  Elijah nodded.

  “Okay then, don’t worry. I’m the best.” He looked down at his machine. “Does she spell her name with a C or K?”

  “Catherine with a C. Her last name is Glick. Will you tell me right away if she’s here in the hospital?”

  “Of course.” He smiled reassuringly, then proceeded. “Can I get your cell phone number so I’ll be able to contact you?”

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. You probably lost it in the accident. We’ll skip that section for now. Where are you both from?”

  “Posen, Michigan.” He wasn’t going to confuse Alex with a long explanation of how he’d moved away from Posen and hadn’t technically moved back.

  “Describe her for me. What’s her age, eye color, hair color, approximate height and weight. Any tattoos?”

  “Nay, tattoos. We’re—” Elijah debated if he should tell the man they were Amish. If he knew anything about their way of life, he would know they didn’t believe in lawsuits. Something told Elijah that the man was only interested in finding Catherine to sign her as a client too. But if he was the best at finding people . . .

  “Catherine’s beautiful. She’s twenty-nine and of average height— five six maybe. I’d guess her weight to be around 140. She has long honey-colored hair and bright blue eyes.” Excitement swelled within Elijah as Alex transcribed the information. At least he seemed motivated to help. Elijah hoped he really was the best at finding people.

  Alex glanced up from his notes. “Do you have a picture of her in your wallet?”

  Guilt niggled at Elijah for not being totally upfront. “We’re Amish,” he blurted. “We don’t believe in having our image engraved, such as in photographs.”

  “Interesting” was all the man said before continuing with more questions. “So you were on your way to Florida for a once-in-a-lifetime vacation?”

  “Nay.” Elijah wasn’t sure why it mattered, but he answered anyway. “Catherine was supposed to work in her cousin’s bakery for a few months.”

  “Loss of work,” Alex muttered happily while typing.

  “Catherine’s a very gut baker.”

  “I’m sure she is.” Alex smiled. “What about you? Were you also going to Florida for work?”

  Elijah shrugged. “I hadn’t made any definite plans. I was . . .” Hoping Catherine gave me a reason to stay. “I planned to train and sell horses once I returned to Michigan.” He was too embarrassed to admit that he’d had those plans for over a decade and nothing had materialized. He hadn’t found a place to settle down and call home—had no interest if it didn’t include Catherine.

  “That’s okay. We don’t necessarily have to prove loss of work. Obviously, the injuries you’ve suffered have diminished your potential to earn an income.”

  Elijah’s thoughts drifted to the dreams he and Catherine once shared about owning a horse farm, raising buggy horses, and training up a houseful of children. An image of her smiling brightly as she held up the bag of peanut butter cookies she and her niece had baked for the trip flitted across his mind. He licked his dry lips. Earlier he had no appetite. Now just thinking about Catherine’s cookies had awakened his stomach.

  Reaching for the bedside tray, he rolled it closer, then picked up the Styrofoam cup of water and tilted the straw toward his mouth. The ice had melted and the water was lukewarm. When he took a sip, the water left a metallic taste on his tongue.

  “I think I have enough information to get started.” Alex slid the tablet into his briefcase and stood. “I am going to find her for you, Mr. Graber.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I’d like your word that you won’t sign with another law firm. I usually don’t work on a case without first having the client’s representation in writing. I’m making an exception for you, but I hope you will refuse to entertain another firm’s spiel of what they can do for you. Rulerson, Markel, and Boyd will take good care of you—and Catherine.”

  Elijah nodded. “When do you think you’ll know something?”

  “I’m going to get started working on this immediately.” He fished his hand into his shirt pocket and removed a card. “You can reach me day or night at this number. Anything you need.”

  The only thing Elijah needed was proof that Catherine was alive.

  Chapter 19

  I thought we would go for a walk today.”

  Elijah groaned at his nurse’s suggestion. Ever since Candice had told him that Catherine’s name wasn’t on the hospital census, he’d lost hope. Ambulance chaser Alex hadn’t been back to see him—hadn’t called with any updates either as he said he would.

  “You need to get up and move, doctor’s orders.” Candice handed him a hospital robe. “Do you need help?”

  “Nay.” Even if he did need help, he would figure it out before being stripped of all his dignity and having to admit he needed assistance. He struggled with the flimsy material, his face growing hotter. The hospital gown was made of soft, thin material. But up until now he had been hidden under the covers. Now she wanted him to walk down the hall. He had a notion to refuse to move even if it was a doctor’s order.

  “Here, let me help you. This can be a little tricky.” She undid a row of snaps, then refastened them around his injured shoulder. She opened the garment the same way for the side with the IV so the long tubing wasn’t caught up in the sleeve.

  “How long have I been here?” Pain meds had made him so loopy he spent most of his time sleeping.

  “This is your fourth day.”

  The nurse had been kind enough to let him use her cell phone yesterday to call Catherine’s cousin at her bakery and tell her about the accident. Since they should have already arrived in Florida, he didn’t want Dawn worried. Plus, he didn’t want her sending a letter back to Posen inquiring about Catherine’s whereabouts. He hadn’t wanted to call Catherine’s family until he had news to share about her condition. As far as her family was concerned, he and Catherine were in Florida. He hated not telling them, but there wasn’t anything they could do from Michigan.

  The nurse was at his side, arms guiding him as he lowered his socked feet onto the floor and pushed off the handrail to stand. His knees wobbled. Endless hours of lying in bed had al
l but crippled him.

  “Easy,” she said.

  “Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be very gut company.”

  “Don’t you worry about it. You’re pleasant to be around compared to some patients I’ve had. You won’t take a swing at me, will you?”

  He stopped. “Someone has swung at you before?”

  “More than once.” She placed her hand on his back and didn’t move it even when he tensed.

  He ambled forward. “Doesn’t sound right. Why would someone do something like that?”

  “Most of them don’t know they’re being combative, especially the inebriated ones. I take it all in stride.”

  “It takes a special person to do that.” He blew out a few quick breaths to ward off the burning sensations traveling up his spine with every step.

  It took several minutes to reach the corner of the hall. He was ready to turn around, but she motioned him to continue down another corridor.

  “Can you go a little farther?”

  “I don’t know.” He was telling the truth. His legs were beginning to feel like Jell-O.

  “There’s a woman in the surgical wing at the end of the hall,” she whispered.

  “Is it Catherine?”

  Candice looked side to side, then glanced over her shoulder. If he had more strength, he would have followed her gaze. As it was he had propped himself against the handrail that ran the length of the blue wall and was holding on tight in fear his legs would buckle.

  “From what I understand, she was brought in from the accident and was rushed into surgery. She’s registered as Jane Doe, but I thought maybe . . .” Candice bit her bottom lip hard enough that when she lifted her teeth, her lip had the indentation. “We should get you back to your room. Your face is washed out, and I can see you’re in pain.”

  “You thought maybe what?”

  Candice gave him a once-over with her eyes, and for a moment he was sure he’d be ushered back to his room without further conversation. Then her eyes lit with enthusiasm and she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “I thought once we get down the hall you might need to rest on the banister outside of her room.” She gave him an exaggerated wink.

  He picked up on the hint and headed down the hallway with remarkable speed. By the time he reached the room, stabbing pain had rendered him winded. He clutched the banister to catch his breath and wait out the spinning going on inside his head.

  Candice tipped her head and opened her mouth to speak, but he used every ounce of strength to lean into the open doorway and peer into the room.

  A nurse seated in the corner of the room stood. “May I help you?”

  Elijah disregarded the nurse and approached the bed. The woman wasn’t wearing a prayer kapp, but she shared the same honey-colored hair as Catherine.

  The woman stirred. Her gentle eyes locked with his.

  “Well?” Candice had waited until she and Elijah were several feet down the hall.

  “Nett Catherine.” The woman who had been staring at him had brown eyes. Besides that, when she stirred the covers, he’d noticed a butterfly tattoo just below her ear. The Jane Doe wasn’t Catherine.

  Tears burned his eyes as he limped back to his room. Spying on the woman with her mouth wired shut had made him that much more determined to find Catherine.

  “I’m sorry,” Candice said. “I was hoping for a better outcome.”

  “Me too.” He returned to his room, short of breath as shards of pain burrowed into his bones. He crawled into the bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, and sank his head into the pillow, a defeated man. He couldn’t even walk a few yards without breathing heavily and breaking into a sweat, and that was while holding on to a handrail. His mind was telling him to get back up, sign himself out of the hospital, and search for Catherine, but his body refused to cooperate.

  “I’ll get you something for your pain.” Candice left the room, then returned a few minutes later with a syringe. After injecting the medicine into the IV port, she asked, “Would you like me to turn the TV on for you?”

  “Nay, thank you.” He didn’t give her any reason why or explain his beliefs. Most of the time outsiders didn’t understand the Amish plain way or their convictions.

  “I feel bad for getting your hopes up.” Candice’s sullen expression seemed to match his own. “The other patient’s jaw had been shattered in the accident, so she wasn’t able to communicate prior to surgery. Then when she came out of the operating room, her mouth was wired shut and she was under anesthesia . . . I should have waited until she was able to communicate her name before I involved you.”

  “Thank you for nett waiting,” he said drowsily.

  “I’ll let you rest.” She went to the door and paused. “I’ll come back later to check on you.” She slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  The room fell silent. Lonely.

  It wasn’t long before his muscles relaxed completely and his body molded into the mattress. He closed his eyes.

  “Elijah! Elijah, help me.” Catherine’s voice echoed, but she was nowhere to be found. Emptiness surrounded him. He stumbled over wreckage, ignored the faint moans and cries coming from other victims, and ambled toward the edge of the cliff.

  “Catherine! Where are you? Catherine?”

  A gentle shake on the shoulder woke him. He winced when the overhead light hit his eyes. The woman’s image at his bedside slowly came into focus.

  “You were having a nightmare,” Candice said.

  He was still dazed even when she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm. He swallowed hard. “Mei throat’s dry.”

  “Probably all that yelling,” she said with a smile. “I’ll pour you a cup of water once I take your vital signs.”

  “I hope I didn’t disturb any of your other patients.”

  “Oh, I doubt you did. Most of them have their televisions on, and besides, these walls are thick.” She adjusted the blood pressure cuff over his arm, then pressed the button on the machine. “Try to stay still and not talk.”

  The cuff inflated, squeezing his arm until his fingers started to tingle. It deflated. Elijah fisted his hand, opened it, then fisted it again to return circulation. “How is it?”

  “Normal.”

  “Am I going to be able to leave soon?”

  “That will be up to the doctor.” She swiped his forehead with a wand-like instrument, then recorded his temperature in the computer. “Are you in any pain?”

  He shook his head.

  “Would you like to go back to sleep?”

  “Nay. I keep having the same nightmare. I hear Catherine calling for me, but I’m never able to find her in the wreckage.” Normally he wouldn’t share his fears with a stranger, but Candice was a good listener; she no longer seemed like a stranger to him. “I’m afraid I might never see her again.”

  “Isn’t it the enemy’s plan to get you all knotted up with worry? He’d like nothing better than to make you feel hopeless and to feed you with lies so you believe the worst. You can’t let him deceive you. This is the time to stand in faith.”

  “You’re right,” he admitted.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. I took the liberty of asking one of the on-call chaplains who was in the hospital visiting another patient to stop by your room. Of course, you can decline the visit, but I think it might be helpful to talk with someone.”

  “Instead of you?”

  “In addition to me. Someone with . . . spiritual insight.”

  Candice’s insightfulness about standing in faith had encouraged him. He didn’t need to speak with a chaplain.

  “He’s a new chaplain who only recently started volunteering on our floor. I think you’ll like him. He’s easy to talk to.”

  Elijah wasn’t about to disappoint Candice, one of the only people who had shown interest in helping him. The ambulance chaser hadn’t paid him another visit. For all he knew, Alex could have researched the Amish way of life and figured out they didn
’t believe in lawsuits. Based on the man’s money-hungry demeanor the other day, Alex probably focused his attention on finding other injured passengers to recruit and forgot about looking for Catherine.

  “Should I send him in?” Candice motioned with a nod toward the middle-aged man loitering outside the door.

  Elijah sighed. “Jah, okay.”

  “Chaplains are used to dealing with situations like yours. They’re trained in what to say to someone who’s lost . . . who’s suffering from grief.” The nurse waved the man wearing a stiff-looking button-down shirt, a bright yellow tie, and tan trousers into the room.

  “Elijah, this is Mr. Fisher, and Mr. Fisher, this is Mr. Graber.”

  “Call me Paul.” The man approached the bed and extended his hand.

  “I’m Elijah.” He shook awkwardly with his left hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Elijah.”

  Candice poured a cupful of water and placed it on the tray table, then rolled it closer to the bed so the cup was within reach. “I have some other patients to check on, so I’m going to leave you two alone.” Candice rolled the blood pressure machine toward the door. “I’ll come back to check on you before my shift ends.”

  “Okay.” Elijah found himself wishing her shift wouldn’t end. Admittedly, he liked having company. Candice was someone who understood his desperation to find Catherine. A romantic at heart was what she’d called herself. He’d spotted tears in her eyes earlier in the day when he was talking about how Catherine and he met.

  The chaplain motioned to the chair next to the wall. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  “Please do.”

  “I understand you were one of the passengers on the bus involved in the accident.”

  Elijah nodded.

  “Sometimes it helps to talk about what happened, but only if you feel up to it. No pressure.”

  “It all happened so fast . . . No time to react . . .” Would Catherine have seen the other bus coming and had time to brace for impact?

  “That must have been frightening.”

  “I’m frightened more nau,” Elijah explained. “I still don’t know what happened to mei friend Catherine. She and I were not able to find seats together, and after the crash I couldn’t find her anywhere. Have you talked with any of the other passengers? Perhaps you’ve seen or spoken to Catherine—Catherine Glick.”