“Okay, I’ll let her know.”
Leah blotted her arms and legs with the towel then went to the kitchen to check on the soup. Taking a sip of the broth, she smacked her lips. “Yum. I can’t wait till suppertime.” Turning the burner down so the soup could simmer, she left the room.
As Leah made her way up the stairs, she thought about her mother’s comment about a suitor. Although Leah acted like she didn’t care, she longed to be a wife and mother. But so far, the right man had not come along. No one, that is, who had swept Leah off her feet. It was probably wishful thinking, but she wanted to fall in love with a man who made her heart beat like a thundering herd of horses. Leah’s friends Elaine Schrock and Priscilla Hershberger both had boyfriends. Priscilla was being courted by Elam Gingerich, and Elaine had recently started seeing Ben Otto, who was fairly new to the area. She figured they’d both be married with children long before she had a suitor.
Leah entered her room, removed her wet clothes, and changed into a clean, dry dress. Here I am, twenty-five years old already, and I don’t even have a boyfriend, much less the prospect of marriage. Maybe it’s not meant for me to get married. Leah wasn’t going to marry just anyone merely because time was running out before she’d be considered an old maid. I must leave things in God’s hands and remember Isaiah 30:15, the verse I read last night: “In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength.” Leah sighed. I am certainly not quiet by nature. Adam sure got under my skin today, and I probably said more than I should have in defense of myself. Well, he said more than he should have, too.
When Leah entered the basement a short time later, Sara was sitting in the recliner with her shoes and stockings off. Her normally slender legs and feet looked a bit swollen, and several strands of her medium brown hair peeked out from under her head covering. Sara’s shoulders were slumped, and Leah noticed dark circles beneath her friend’s brown eyes.
“Sorry for making you wait,” Leah apologized. “I rode my bike to the health food store earlier and got caught in that downpour, so I had to change out of my wet clothes.”
“It’s not a problem; I haven’t been here that long.” Sara motioned to a plastic container on the small table to her right. “I brought you some chocolate-chip cookies that I baked this morning.”
“Danki. That was nice of you. Except for bread, neither Mom nor I have done much baking lately. We’ve been too busy picking strawberries from our garden and making them into jelly.” Leah smiled. “Last night, I was going to make a strawberry cheeseball but decided to make a chocolate-chip one instead.”
Sara smacked her lips. “I’ll bet that was good.”
Leah nodded and took a seat on the stool in front of the recliner to begin working on Sara’s feet. “I enjoy making cheeseballs, and it’s always fun to try out new combinations.” She picked up the bottle of lotion, poured some into her hands, and rubbed it gently into Sara’s feet. “How have you been feeling lately? Are you having any unusual symptoms with your pregnancy?”
“No, not really. In fact, my symptoms have actually diminished, which the doctor said often happens to pregnant women who have MS.”
“That’s good to hear. So you’re not having any problems at all?”
“Not with my MS, but my lower back has begun to hurt, and it’s hard to sleep.” Sara frowned. “I’m only four-and-a-half-months pregnant, so I wasn’t expecting back pain this early. I didn’t experience it at all when I was carrying Mark, but I know that many women have trouble with their back—especially toward the end of their third trimester.”
Leah began to work on the heel of Sara’s right foot. After a while, she moved to the other foot. “Is that tender?” she asked when Sara winced.
Sara nodded. “Jah, a little.”
Leah worked on Sara’s left foot for several minutes, then she asked her to stand and walk around for a bit.
“My back feels much better. Danki, Leah.” The dimples in Sara’s cheeks deepened when she smiled.
“You’re welcome. Let me know if it flares up again or if you need another foot treatment just to help you relax.”
“I will.” Sara put on her shoes and stockings.
“Now let me rub your neck a bit before you go.” Leah usually did that for most of her patients. It helped them relax and finished the treatment on a positive note.
As Leah massaged Sara’s neck, they talked about the weather.
“How were the roads when you came here?” Leah asked. “Were any sections flooded?”
“At one place,” Sara said as Leah worked the knots out of her neck, “but my horse cooperated well and walked right through it without a problem.”
“That’s good. Some horses get spooky over things like water in the road.”
“You’re right about that.” Sara slipped some money into the jar Leah had set on the small table near the chair. “Guess I’d better go. Jonah took some time away from his buggy shop to watch Mark so I could come here, and I’m sure he’s anxious to get back to work.”
Leah hugged Sara, and as the young woman headed up the stairs, Leah thought about her friend Elaine, who had once been courted by Jonah. Listening to Elaine talk about Ben, Leah wondered if she cared for him as much as she had Jonah.
Since she had a few minutes until Margaret Kauffman, their bishop’s wife, arrived for her treatment, Leah washed her hands and tasted one of the cookies Sara had brought. It was soft and chewy, and she relished the taste of chocolate along with the little bits of nuts inside. Tempted to eat a second cookie, she put the lid back on the container and took a seat in the recliner to wait for Margaret. Maybe later this evening, she’d have another cookie with a cup of hot tea.
Drawing in a deep breath, Leah closed her eyes. If she wasn’t careful, it would be easy to succumb to sleep. A vision of Adam Beachy flashed into Leah’s mind, and her eyes snapped open. Now why was I thinking about him again?
Leah stood and opened the lid on the plastic container. She was on the verge of taking another cookie, despite her resolve, when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Closing the lid, she turned and smiled at Margaret. “Did your husband bring you here today, or did you come alone?”
“I brought my own horse and buggy.” Margaret placed her black umbrella on the floor near the chair. “It’s stopped raining, but it sure came down hard for a while there.” She removed her cape and black outer bonnet, revealing her white head covering, perched on top of her salt-and-pepper hair.
“I know. I got caught in the downpour when I was riding my bike earlier.” Leah motioned to the recliner. “If you’re ready, why don’t you take a seat? Oh, and if you’re hungry, there’s some chocolate-chip kichlin there on the table. Sara Miller made them.”
Margaret’s pale blue eyes twinkled when she smiled and took two cookies. “Anything with chocolate in it appeals to me.” She took a seat in the recliner and ate both cookies before removing her shoes and socks. Suddenly, a strange look came over her face and she started wheezing, as though she was having trouble catching her breath. “I—I think I’m having a reaction to what I just ate. I feel a strange tightness in my throat and chest—it’s like I can’t breathe.”
Leah’s shoulders tightened as perspiration beaded on her forehead. She’d heard about allergic reactions to certain foods, but she’d never dealt with one before. “Have you ever had an attack like this?”
Margaret shook her head.
Knowing she needed to get help for their bishop’s wife, she told Margaret to lie back in the chair and try to stay calm. Then Leah rushed upstairs, quickly told Mom what had happened and asked her to go downstairs and keep an eye on Margaret, while she ran outside. Her heart hammering, she raced for the phone shack to call 911.
CHAPTER 3
I heard that Margaret Kauffman had an allergic reaction while you were working on her feet yesterday,” Leah’s friend Priscilla said as they ate supper together at Yoder’s Kitchen the following day.
Leah nodded and reached for he
r glass of lemonade. “I never even got started on her feet, because it came on after she’d eaten a couple of the cookies Sara Miller had brought earlier. When Margaret said she was having trouble breathing, I knew I needed to get help for her right away.”
“Did you know it was a reaction to what she ate, or did you think it might be something else?” Priscilla’s coffee-colored eyes revealed the depth of her concern.
“I wasn’t sure what to think at first, but then Margaret said she thought she was having an allergic reaction. So I asked my mamm to stay with her, while I rushed out to the phone shack and called 911.” Leah paused to take a drink. “When the paramedics got there, they knew what to do, and at the hospital, they ran tests that revealed Margaret’s allergic to walnuts, which were in the chocolate-chip cookies.”
“It’s good she found that out so she can be careful not to eat anything else with nuts,” Priscilla said before taking a bite of salad. “If she’s allergic to walnuts, she might have that same reaction to other kinds of nuts as well.”
“The doctor wrote Margaret a prescription for an EpiPen, which she will keep with her in case an incident like that ever happens again,” Leah explained.
“That must have been frightening, not only for Margaret, but for you as well.”
“Jah, it was.” Leah sipped more lemonade. “You know, it’s too bad Elaine couldn’t join us this evening. It’s been awhile since the three of us had a good visit.”
“I was hoping she could come, too, but she has a dinner scheduled this evening for a large tour group.”
“That’s right; I do remember her saying that.” Leah paused to eat some of her salad. “Oh, I forgot to mention that Mom sent a container of vegetable soup for you and your parents. It’s in a cooler out in my buggy. I’ll get it for you after we eat. It might be something you can enjoy for lunch tomorrow.”
Priscilla smiled. “Please tell your mamm I said danki.”
“I will. She made enough soup to feed a small barn-raising crew, so she was more than happy to share.”
“We enjoy anything your mamm makes because she is such a good cook.”
“You’re right about that. I do all right in the kitchen, but my cooking skills aren’t nearly as good as hers.” Glancing to her left, Leah cringed when she noticed Adam enter the restaurant. Trying to suppress a cough, she almost choked on the little tomato she was chewing. She was relieved when the hostess handed Adam a takeout box, which meant he wasn’t planning to stay.
Before Leah had a chance to look away, Adam glanced in her direction and gave a brief nod. She smiled in return then quickly focused on her salad.
Priscilla bumped Leah’s foot under the table. “Your face is red. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Leah muttered. She glanced back at Adam and was relieved when she saw him go out the door.
Priscilla tipped her head, looking curiously at Leah. “Are you interested in Adam Beachy? Is that why your cheeks are so pink?”
Leah touched her hot cheeks. “No, of course not!”
“Is he interested in you?”
“The only person Adam’s interested in is himself and his biased opinions.”
“What makes you say that?”
Leah proceeded to tell Priscilla about the ride Adam had given her and his attitude toward reflexology. “He thinks it’s hocus-pocus.”
Priscilla’s eyes narrowed. “That’s lecherich.”
“You’re right, it is ridiculous.”
“How would Adam know anything about reflexology?”
Leah shrugged. “All I know is that man is unsociable and too sharp with his words. Makes me wonder how he can run a business and keep customers coming back to his store. Guess it’s a good thing he has Ben Otto and Henry Raber working there, because they’re both friendly and quite pleasant.”
“You’re right,” Priscilla agreed. “The last time I went there to get some nails for my daed, Adam was behind the counter, and he barely said two words to me. What do you think his problem is, anyway?”
Leah shrugged again. “I have no idea. The only thing I do know is that I’ll never accept another ride from him, no matter how hard it’s raining. I’d rather be waterlogged than listen to him say negative things about the very thing I feel called to do.”
“I can’t blame you for that. Personally, I see your foot doctoring as a gift from God.” Priscilla smiled. “Not everyone has the ability to help people the way you do, Leah. Maybe someday Adam will have a sinus headache or some other type of problem and come to you for help.”
Leah shook her head. “I doubt that. I’m sure he’d be the last person in our community who’d ask me for help. For that matter, I have no desire to work on Adam’s feet.”
When Adam entered his house that evening, a deep sense of loneliness encompassed him. He should be used to coming home every evening to an empty house, but he’d never quite adjusted to it. He missed his dad and the conversations they used to have, and he missed his sister, Mary, whom he’d been close to during their childhood. But Mary lived in Nappanee, Indiana, with her husband and three girls. Two years ago, Adam’s dad had passed away after a freak accident when he’d been helping a neighbor in his field. After six months of grieving his loss, Adam had left Indiana and moved to Arthur, Illinois, seeking a new start with the hardware store he’d purchased. He didn’t have any relatives in the area, but that was okay. Adam was used to moving and starting over. Dad had uprooted them several times after Adam’s mother walked out on them when they lived in Pennsylvania. Adam didn’t know why they’d moved, but he’d later found out that Dad didn’t want Adam and Mary’s mother to have anything to do with them if she ever came back. He’d said she was a wicked woman and didn’t deserve to spend any time with her children. Well, that was fine with Adam, because he wanted nothing to do with her. When she’d left the Amish faith and divorced his dad, Adam had been five years old and Mary had been eight. How any woman could walk out on a man as great as Dad and leave her children behind was a mystery to Adam, and he’d never come to grips with it. He had struggled the last twenty-five years to keep from hating her for what she’d done. It was wrong to dislike anyone that much, but Adam’s anger festered like a splinter that wouldn’t come out. It had kept him from getting close to anyone except for Mary and her family. Adam loved his sister and would do anything for her. He cared about her husband, Amos, and their daughters, Carrie, Linda, and Amy, too, although he didn’t see them as often as he would like.
Adam hung his straw hat on a wall peg in the kitchen and, after pouring himself a glass of milk, took a seat at the table. He’d put in a long day, and it felt good to be off his feet.
As he sipped some milk, his gaze came to rest on the coloring book lying on top of the desk across the room. He’d purchased it so his nieces would have something to do when they came here for Christmas last year, but the girls had forgotten to take it home with them. Several months before the holiday, Adam had asked Jonah Miller, the local buggy maker, to build him a buggy that would accommodate six people so all his guests could ride together. Having his sister and her family with him to celebrate the Christmas season had been nice, but he hadn’t gotten much use out of the larger buggy since they went back to Indiana. He hated to admit it, since he’d paid Jonah Miller a good price for making the buggy, but it seemed like a waste to have the larger rig sitting out in the buggy shed. At least he would have it for the next time Mary and her family came to visit.
Sure wish Dad could have celebrated Christmas with us, Adam thought with regret. If his life hadn’t been snuffed out that way, we’d be together right now.
“We never know what’s coming in life,” Adam mumbled, setting his empty glass on the table. “Never know what the future holds.”
CHAPTER 4
Elaine Schrock had never been one to give in to self-pity, and tonight was no exception. She’d just told her helper, Karen Yoder, good-bye and had put the last of the dishes away from the tourists’ dinner she’d hoste
d. Every time Elaine hosted another dinner, she pictured Grandma working beside her, wearing a cheerful-looking smile. Oh, how she missed their conversations and the humorous stories Grandma often shared from her childhood, but the memories of Grandma were also what motivated Elaine to continue providing these dinners. Knowing how much her grandmother had loved doing them, wasn’t she, in a way, helping to keep Grandma’s memory alive by continuing this tradition?
When Grandma died, Elaine had considered selling the house and moving away, but this had been her home since she was a girl, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave the old house where so many memories lived. Perhaps if Elaine ever got married, she would raise her own children in this place where so much love had abounded when Grandpa and Grandma were alive. The swing in the yard, the big back porch, and even the bedrooms upstairs with their creaky floorboards needed children to fill them.
If only Grandma and Grandpa could have lived long enough to see great-grandchildren, she thought, moving over to her desk on the other side of the room to get the book on gardening she wanted to read. I know they would have loved my kinner as much as they loved me—if I ever have any children, that is.
Bringing her thoughts back to the dinner she’d just hosted, Elaine chuckled over the group’s reaction to one of the guests. An Asian man, Mr. Lee, burped out loud after eating his salad. Then he did the same thing after finishing his mashed potatoes. At that point, the whole dining area grew silent, and the other guests stared at the man. An uncomfortable hush settled over the room. Mr. Lee must have noticed it, for he stood up and explained that in the part of China he came from, it was customary to show appreciation for the food by burping out loud. He even offered to stop doing it if anyone was offended, but the other guests seemed to be satisfied with his explanation. Everyone continued eating, accepting the fact that Mr. Lee was going to burp during the whole meal. Bethany, a young college student, even thanked Mr. Lee, saying she had signed up for the dinner to learn about Amish customs but had learned something about another country’s customs, as well. She went on to say that she could use this information for her thesis. Everyone clapped, and the group seemed to relax even more.
The Gift Page 2