“Is she going to be okay?” Darby’s mom hovered close, keeping one hand on the child at all times.
“I irrigated the wound,” Brenda said. “She needs a tetanus shot and fluids, plus a round of antibiotics.”
The young man stopped speaking into his phone and glanced up.
“Dr. Stiles,” Brenda explained. “Neonatologist.”
“Otis Conklin, ma’am. I’ve ordered transport. Someone should be here within the hour.” Two other workers covered Darby with a blanket, loaded her on a makeshift stretcher, and carried her out of the barn.
Caleb breathed a sigh of relief, but even as he thanked Gotte for their rescue, his impatience grew.
It was all he could do to stand there.
He hadn’t seen Jack in several minutes, but once he saw to Aaron, he was leaving—if he had to, he would take one of the horses which had been moved to an outside shelter.
He needed to go home, even if the only way was to walk.
When Otis had finished working on Darby, he’d moved over to Aaron, who had insisted on being the last one looked at. They were the only four left in the barn. Suddenly the wind rattled the walls, the roof gave a groan as it shook, and snow trickled through.
“It’s not going to hold much more weight.” Aaron struggled to sit up straighter. “You can do whatever you’re going to do somewhere else. Let’s get out of here.”
Brenda stepped forward. “I don’t think you should try to—”
But she was interrupted by debris and snow coming through the roof.
“Caleb on the left. Otis, you get the right. I’ll try and make sure you have a clear path.”
They hurried outside. It couldn’t have been past seven in the morning, but Caleb felt as if he’d already done an entire day’s work.
Once they had cleared the structure, which continued to moan but somehow stood, he turned to Aaron and said, “I’ll help you to the cabin, and then I’m going to check on Julia.”
Aaron nodded, pain clouding his eyes. But he seemed focused on making it across the snow, and although Caleb saw him glance up once, maybe twice, and shake his head in disbelief, he didn’t think his friend fully comprehended the destruction he was seeing. No doubt shock had taken hold hours ago.
The good news was that smoke was now coming from the chimneys of the intact cabins, which meant folks were finally getting warm. Food had been brought from the half of the store that was still standing. Everyone was safe and dry. Truly, they had much to be thankful for.
And what of Julia? And Ada? And Sharon? Their names pulsed through Caleb’s mind and heart with each step. He wanted to rush Aaron, but he knew that would be cruel. He had the irrational urge to pick up the man and carry him.
They had made it past the office when Jack came rushing back toward them.
“A call just came in. Aaron, Lydia’s in labor.”
Aaron’s face blanched white, and Caleb thought he would pass out. “She’s fine. People are with her, but the baby’s nearly here so they’re not going to transfer her.”
“I have to go.”
“You can’t even walk.” Brenda shook her head and held up her hand, as if that could stop him.
Instead of speaking to her, Aaron turned to Caleb.
“It’s his first,” Caleb said. “If there’s any way—”
“He can’t ride with me on the snowmobile.” Jack ran a hand up and over the back of his neck. “Not with that leg.”
“He can ride in the ambulance.” Otis shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the parking lot, where an ambulance, complete with winter chains on its wheels had just pulled in. “Darby’s injuries aren’t life threatening. Where do you live?”
Aaron described the road.
“We’ll drive within two miles of that. I say it’s in the best interest of one of our patients to stop by there first. Should you…um…change your mind and decide you won’t continue on to the hospital, I can’t force you.”
Brenda almost laughed, but put a finger to her lips as if she needed to hold it in. “All right. All right. I can’t argue with three men. But if you’re going, I’m going too. I haven’t seen a newborn in almost a week. My hands are aching to hold one.”
They had moved Aaron to the ambulance when Jack tapped Caleb on the shoulder.
“Still want to go home?”
“I am going. I’ll walk if I have to. I caught sight of our property when we moved folks to the farthest cabin. All I could see was the spot where the bridge between our places had been. It’s gone. I couldn’t see the house from there, couldn’t see or tell anything. But I can walk around by the road. Even in this snow, I can make it in an hour, maybe a little more.”
He was so keyed up, he felt as if he could run all the way home through the drifts of snow. He stuck his hands in his pockets, or rather the pockets of Jack’s coat. “By the way, I still have your coat.”
“Keep it. I dressed in layers. And there’s no need to walk. I’ve been cleared to leave this site.” He nodded toward the snowmobile. “Want a ride?”
Caleb didn’t even have to think about it.
He climbed on the back and they took off at a very safe, very slow speed. Caleb was sure the contraption had the ability to move faster, but before he could lean forward and ask Jack to pick up the pace, he saw a figure walking down what might be the side of the road. It was hard to tell with the amount of snow they had received.
Dressed in an odd assortment of clothes—black leather jacket, Green Bay Packers hoodie, a woman’s scarf, and wearing vintage snowshoes, the man began waving his hands as soon as he spotted the snowmobile.
Caleb was off the vehicle before it had come to a complete stop.
“Tim! Our families…are they all right? And Julia. What about Julia?”
With snow matted around his eyebrows, ears, and nose, Tim looked more than half frozen, but he nodded his head up and down repeatedly and tried to form the words. He dropped his makeshift pack on the ground, and Caleb saw the extra pair of snowshoes. Jack had parked the snowmobile, pulled an emergency blanket out of his supply pack, and wrapped it around Tim’s shoulders.
“They’re okay.” He finally managed, but his speech was slurred and he seemed confused. Glancing left, right, and back down at his feet, he didn’t seem clear as to where he was or how he had arrived there.
“What happened?” Caleb moved directly in front of him, so that Tim had to look at him.
“Left at first light…” His teeth began chattering violently, and his arms shook so hard that Caleb had to hold the thin, silver blanket around his shoulders. He closed his eyes and pushed out one word after another. “Fell…into…”
He shook his head and pushed on. “Before I put snowshoes on.”
Caleb noticed then that Tim’s clothes were nearly frozen to him from the knees down.
As he had struggled to speak, Jack had pulled out his satellite phone and called one of the first responder teams back at the cabin. He clipped it to his belt and turned his attention back to them.
“You’re suffering from hypothermia, Tim.”
The man’s shivering became more pronounced as he began to warm up in the blanket.
Caleb heard “Fell. Sorry. They’re in…basement.” He heard, but he was too busy strapping the snowshoes on over his boots to focus on Tim’s words.
Basement. They had made it to the basement.
He stood and tested the shoes. They would hold. He’d used them as a child in Indiana. He’d once been quite fast on the snow.
The first responders pulled up behind them, and Caleb heard Tim’s last words “Julia…she’s hurt…needs you.”
Jack called after him, but he was already moving down the road—clumsy, sliding, nearly losing his balance, but moving forward, unable to wait.
They would stay and help his friend. He needed to be home. He needed to care for his family. He couldn’t delay even one moment longer.
Jack had his responsibilities as an officer of the law
and couldn’t leave Tim until he’d passed him over properly to the group that had just arrived. Caleb understood that.
He understood it as he hurried through the falling snow, and his heart was gripped by a fear colder than any blizzard.
Chapter 39
Sharon knew everyone was worried. She heard their talking, though it occurred in little groups. Most were saying Tim should have been back by now. Some wanted to send another person out to look for help, and others thought that idea was horrible and dangerous.
Frances and Jeanette were keeping a close watch on Julia, who hadn’t so much as stirred since Tim had crawled out the window.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Sharon had directed the question to Jeanette, but she kept her eyes on Julia. Taking the wet rag from Jeanette’s hand, she used it to sponge Julia’s face. How could she be so hot when the room was so cold?
“I am, but I know Tim. He said he would find help, and he will.” Jeanette shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against the wall. They had tried to turn the portion of the basement against the house into a sleeping area, but only the children had been able to nod off—the children and Julia.
Sharon realized Jeanette was answering her question honestly and not simply trying to alleviate her fears. She did believe Tim would be back for no better reason than he had promised her he would. She didn’t doubt her husband for a moment.
“How does that happen?” Sharon whispered. “How do you come to trust someone so completely?”
Jeanette put her arms around Zoey, who had sat up and rubbed her eyes before crawling up into her mother’s lap. Bandit now lay stretched out on the floor as if it were his normal sleeping spot. “It takes time and getting to know someone. Tim isn’t perfect. He has things he struggles with, but he’s a good man.”
Running her fingers through Zoey’s hair, she stared up at the window, the one Tim had disappeared through hours before. “When he says he’ll do something, he does it. I suppose that’s one thing that has held our marriage together when so many marriages, especially Englisch marriages, fall apart.”
“What about love?”
“Trust is a kind of love. How can you not love someone you trust with your life?” Jeanette kissed Zoey on the forehead.
Sharon glanced up in time to see Wess studying her. He rolled his eyes and smiled, as if to say, “Parents! They’re so corny!”
A gust of wind caused a branch to scratch against the window, the one his father had climbed out of. When he looked up at it, his expression turned suddenly solemn.
Sharon understood in that moment that the smiles and eye rolls were to lift her spirits. At a time when he had so much to be concerned about, he was worried about her. Was that love?
Wess stood, walked to the end of the room, and fetched more water. He brought it to his mother and sisters, and offered more to her.
He was a good neighbor, a good friend, and possibly he could be more if she wanted him to be.
When she watched how he cared for his mother and sisters, she understood they were a family in the truest sense of the word. Whatever had brought them here, whatever troubles they had faced that had led them to a simpler lifestyle, they were now stronger because of it.
He moved back beside her. “How are you doing?”
Sharon shrugged, but something in his smile caused her to think back to the week they had first started working together and how he had insisted she keep all of the morning tips.
“You never told me what you were saving your tips for.”
Wess glanced at his sisters. “Christmas presents.”
“Ya?” She should have guessed.
“The girls can always use a new doll.” His words had the desired effect on her. She remembered the tea party she’d been a part of and thought of Christmas, of the future, which surely God would grant them.
“It’s snowing harder,” Terra said, resting one hand on Frances and standing on her tiptoes to see better.
“Maybe we should try to leave.” Frances sighed. “Maybe Brad’s right. I don’t know.”
Brad had been standing in the corner, trying to put together a small group willing to brave the storm and leave the basement to search for help. At that moment there was a commotion by the stairs on the other side of the door that was still blocked.
Wess hopped up and joined the other adults standing near the door.
“Hello? Can you hear us? Hello?” The muffled voice from the other side of the door sounded as if it were calling from the other side of Pebble Creek.
Sharon’s heart started beating a wild rhythm of hope. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard more than one person trying to dig them out.
She reached over and grabbed Julia’s hand, squeezed it, and looked up at Ada, who had been unusually quiet all morning. “We’re found. They found us!”
“We are the people God watches over, child.” Ada coughed into her hand and pulled in a breath that rattled her chest and turned her cheeks a bright red. “We are the flock under His care.”
Sharon looked into Ada’s eyes, and she saw so many things at once—such love and acceptance and hope—that she began to cry. She’d tried to be brave, but now she didn’t feel courageous at all. Fatigue and fear and relief flooded through her in equal measures. This disaster, coupled with Julia’s injury, had been too much for her to handle. Sharon suddenly understood that she wasn’t nearly as strong as she had thought she was. She didn’t even want to pretend to be strong anymore.
She put her head next to Julia’s and allowed her tears to flow. So what if people saw her? Who hadn’t cried since the storm had crashed through their lives? What did they have left to hide from one another? They had been living and sleeping and eating and even going to the bathroom together in one large room. They no longer had any secrets, and it seemed absurd to pretend they did.
These people really knew her, and it was almost a relief. The one thing she was sure of was that she couldn’t keep any of her emotions hidden inside any longer.
She felt Ada’s hand on top of her head, her touch a comfort and her words a blessing. And still she couldn’t raise her eyes to whatever was happening a few feet away.
What if they didn’t find a path through? What if she had imagined their voices, and it was another false hope?
What if Julia died while they waited?
Julia realized she had slept a long time by the river, but she didn’t want to wake. A few more minutes and she would be ready. A little longer to rest, and then she would be strong.
Not yet, though.
Caleb called to her, his voice a sweet gentle presence in her ear. She smiled, knowing he wouldn’t mind if she continued to sleep.
Sharon was crying. That bothered her. She wanted to comfort the girl and tell her everything would be fine. Sharon was a good girl, and she would one day grow to be a fine woman and a loving mother.
She thought to turn and speak with her, but suddenly she was standing on the bridge over Pebble Creek—the one Caleb and Aaron had built. The waters flowed underneath at a fast rate, so they must have had rain recently. She reached out for the rail to steady herself, and the wood was warm beneath her hands. The sun was such a comfort. She closed her eyes again, relishing the feel of the light and the warmth on her skin.
When she heard a splash, she looked down and saw fish dashing back and forth in the water.
“This has been a gut place—a gut home.” Ada pointed to one of the speckled fish, a small one that darted into the sun before slipping back into the shadows.
They both laughed.
“Mamm, what is the other side of the creek like?”
“Like this side, dochder, in many ways. And very different in others. There is more light that comes from the Father, Son, and Spirit. That light is what you feel now, warming on your face.”
“And those who have gone before…”
“Ya.”
They both looked across to the other side and saw Jonathan waiting there for them
, standing in a pool of light. He raised a hand, and Julia realized anew how much she missed her father. It hurt her, seeing him so close and understanding that with a few steps she could be at his side.
“All angels shout, ‘Encore!’”
Ada’s voice caused Julia’s skin to tingle from the top of her head to the tips of her toes—which were barefoot for some reason. She realized Ada wasn’t speaking alone, but was joined by a chorus of many voices. Some she knew. Others sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place. Together they made a sound that was more beautiful than any she had ever heard.
She wanted to weep. She wanted to dance. She wanted to stand there on the bridge, to stand in this moment forever.
“In awe before the glory, in awe before God’s visible power.” Her mother’s voice was a breathless whisper.
The silence that followed nearly broke her heart. She turned and looked into Ada’s eyes.
“We have to go back?”
“Nein. The choice is yours, Julia.”
A part of her mind remembered then. Remembered the thing she had suspected but been afraid to hope. She placed her hand on her stomach and was assured of the life growing within her. Before she raised her eyes to look at their home she knew what she would see. So she stared down at her hand, which was now covered with her mother’s. Stepping closer, she kissed Ada’s cheek and said, “Let’s go together. I hear Caleb.”
“And Sharon.”
“They’re calling us.”
“Ya.”
As they walked back across the bridge, she felt her father’s blessing following her. The scene in front of her was one of nearly complete devastation. Englischers and Amish alike were pulling boards, trees, and what remained of their home from the entrance to their cellar. More people were arriving even as she and Ada drew near.
Then Julia opened her eyes and realized she was still in the dimly lit basement. She could feel the cold air and hear the voices of those on the outside who were coming in and helping the people around her—the people who had been trapped with her through yesterday’s long afternoon and the night.
A moment later she was looking into Caleb’s face. She wanted to reach up and wipe away his tears, but her arms were too heavy, so instead she whispered that everything would be fine.
A Wedding for Julia Page 29