“Elisabeth and Aaron must have worn him out.” She touched her lips to the top of Will’s head. Then she looked at Stephen. “I owe her an apology.”
“Nee, you don’t. I explained everything to her. She understands.”
“I’m glad. She’s a gut friend.” She turned to him. “I’m sorry about what Naomi said. She was just upset over Daed.”
He knew it was more than that. “It’s forgotten. No harm done.”
She gave him a half-smile and looked down at Will. “I was so worried about him.” She put her hand on his back. “I’m worried about Daed.” Her smile disappeared, and her lower lip trembled.
He wished he knew the right words to comfort her, but he didn’t. He held out his hand to her. She looked at it for a long moment before entwining her fingers in his.
“What do you mean he’s had a heart attack?”
Deborah clenched her jaw at Naomi’s shrill question. It had been nearly an hour since the doctor had arrived. She had already put Will to bed, and Stephen was waiting outside in the living room. She threaded her fingers together, remembering the warmth of his hand. The comfort of his embrace. She couldn’t have made it through this without him.
Deborah looked at her father, taking in his pale complexion and gray lips. He seemed to have aged a decade since she’d seen him this morning. A blue-and-white quilt was draped across his chest and tucked under his arms. His eyes were closed, and she asked, “Is he asleep or unconscious?” She made sure to keep her voice at a normal level.
“Asleep. I gave him a mild sedative.” The young doctor turned to Naomi. “To answer your question, I don’t know for sure if he had a heart attack. I need to admit him to the hospital for tests.”
“Then do it!” Naomi clasped her hands together. “Do whatever you have to do!”
Dr. Williams held up his hand. “Ms. Coblentz, you’ll have to keep your voice down. I don’t want your father to get upset.” When Naomi nodded, he continued. “I asked him to go to the hospital, but he refused. He said he was just tired, which of course is common for cardiac arrest, or he could just be extremely fatigued. But he did complain of chest pain, and I think he should have an EKG to make sure. However, I can’t force him to go to the hospital.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Deborah looked at the doctor, who had to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Was he even old enough to practice medicine?
He rubbed his dark brown mustache and glanced at her father. “Other than try to convince him to come to the hospital for tests, make sure he rests for the next few days, longer if possible. Keep his stress level low, and under no circumstances is he to do any physical labor for a while.”
Deborah thought about the farm. All her father did was physical labor. How were they supposed to keep him from doing that? “Anything else?”
“Call me if he gets worse. Short of breath, any more fainting, or complaints of chest pain.” He picked up his jacket, which had been lying on a rocking chair in the corner of the room. “Don’t hesitate to call 911 too.”
“We won’t,” Naomi said, casting another glare at Deborah.
Deborah didn’t acknowledge it. She didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with Naomi right now. “I’ll walk you out, Doctor.” She left the room, leaving Naomi with her father. Deborah hoped she wouldn’t wake him up.
When she and Dr. Williams walked into the living room, Stephen was leaning forward on the couch, his head hanging down. He stood up. “How is he?” When she held up one finger and mouthed the words “just a minute,” he nodded and sat back down.
She walked Dr. Williams to the door. “How much do I owe you?”
He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll bill you.” He gave her a small smile and opened the door. “The good thing is that your father seems okay. Once he regained consciousness he didn’t have trouble breathing and the pains in his chest were gone. But if you can convince him to come in for tests, that would be the best thing.”
“Thank you.” She closed the door behind him and went back into the living room. Then she sat next to Stephen and faced him. He looked so tired, his expression filled with worry. “You didn’t have to stay,” she said. But she was glad he had.
He looked at her for a moment. “I wanted to see how your daed is.”
“He might have had a heart attack.”
Stephen’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“But we can’t know for sure because Daed won’t go to the hospital and get tested. Which doesn’t surprise me. So Dr. Williams asked if Naomi and I could convince him to do it.” She stared at the coffee table in front of her. “But I don’t know if we can.”
“Your daed can be a little obsenaat.”
“Ya, I know. But getting him to the hospital isn’t the hard part. We also have to make sure he rests and doesn’t do any physical exertion. That’s going to be impossible.”
“I’ll take care of it. I can come by twice a day if you need me to.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” She looked up at him. “Naomi and I can handle this.”
“But—”
“Deborah’s right.” Naomi came in the room. “She and I will take care of our daed. And of our farm.” She looked at Stephen, her expression set in stone.
Stephen moved his gaze to Deborah, as if he expected her to disagree with Naomi. In this case, she couldn’t. She couldn’t ask Stephen to take on any more responsibility than he already had. She and Naomi had to work together to take over the farm responsibilities.
“It would be best if you left.” Naomi pinned him with her glare.
“Naomi, that’s enough.” She’d had it with her sister’s rudeness, especially to Stephen. Her accusing him of taking advantage of her had been insulting, and he didn’t deserve that.
“He’s not needed here.”
Before Deborah could protest, Stephen rose from the couch. She could see anger flitting across his face, but he didn’t express it. “I’ll be back by tomorrow to check on Moses. For now I think it’s best I leave.” He glanced at Naomi, his lips thinning. Naomi lifted her chin, meeting his gaze directly. He turned to go.
Deborah followed him to the door. “Stephen?”
He turned, his frustration still evident.
She lowered her voice, aware that Naomi was standing behind them. “Please, don’t let her get to you.”
His eyes softened. “Deborah, don’t worry about me. I don’t want her getting to you. I’m serious about what I said. Anything you need from me, or your daed needs, let me know. I’m here for you.”
Deborah took a deep breath, almost overwhelmed with emotion. She nodded, unable to speak, then closed the door. She leaned her forehead against the door frame, her body shuddering from weariness.
“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
Deborah looked up to see her sister’s face turn the shade of a plum. “What?”
“Daed would be getting the medical care he needed if you had done that instead of calling the doctor. We’ll never get him to the hospital. You know that.”
“The doctor was quicker,” she said, her voice weak with fatigue. “I thought he would be the best bet.”
“You don’t know anything, do you? I don’t know how you expect to raise your child if you can’t make a simple decision.” She looked around. “Where is he, anyway?”
The shock of her sister acknowledging Will directly for the first time barely registered. “He’s upstairs, asleep. He spent the day with Elisabeth and Aaron.”
“Figures you’d want him gone.” She pointed her finger at Deborah. “That way you and Stephen could be alone together. I bet you were messing around while Daed was having his heart attack.”
Deborah clenched her fists. “I can’t believe you’d say that. Stephen’s not that kind of mann.”
“But you’re that kind of fraulein,” she sneered. “You proved that to everyone, didn’t you?” Naomi turned away and went to her father’s bedroom.
Deborah stood there, shaking with anger. How dare her sister say that to her? But she dared, because it was true. She closed her eyes. “Lord, help me,” she whispered.
She didn’t know how long she stood there in the living room, but when she stopped shaking she moved to the couch and prayed. The words she couldn’t find earlier poured out of her. She prayed for her father, for herself, for her son, and even for Naomi, asking God to soften her heart. If she and her sister didn’t manage to work together, they could lose everything.
Chapter 18
The third week of school had been the busiest yet for Ruth. She and her students had settled into a routine, and now that she knew them better, she was able to tailor her lessons to how they learned. Individualizing her plans took more work on her part, but she thought it was worth it.
At the end of the school day, Ruth dismissed the class. “Now remember, fifth graders, you have a math test tomorrow. Be sure to study. And third graders, practice your spelling words.”
“We will, Fraulein Byler,” several students said at the same time.
Ruth smiled. Then her gaze met Jacob, who was seated at the desk in the back of the room, and her smile dimmed. At least he’d attended school for the entire week. But he’d been disengaged from everything. At recess she noticed him on the edge of the playground, instead of playing with the other boys as he’d done last week. She’d been so busy, though, that she hadn’t had a chance to visit the Klines again. She hoped she’d have a chance to talk to them soon. She had some free time tomorrow afternoon. She made a mental note to visit Mr. Kline after school let out.
After the children left, Ruth sat down at her desk and didn’t move. Ah, silence. The frenetic pace of the week had given her little time to enjoy quiet moments. It had also given her little time to think. But those times when she was able to pause, Zach was never far from her mind. Now, in the quiet of the classroom, he came into her thoughts full force.
He’d asked her to leave him alone, and she had complied, thinking he might come around. But he hadn’t. Now she knew she had to be proactive. She wasn’t finished with Zach Bender, God had made that perfectly clear. He needed her. He just didn’t realize it yet.
Already her mind started to formulate a plan. First she’d have to convince him of the importance of reading. Then she had to figure out why it was so difficult for him. Ultimately she had to leap the biggest hurdle of all—getting him to accept her help. But she was up for the challenge. She had to help Zach. She cared too much about him not to.
She slipped on her reading glasses and went through the writing assignments in her students’ notebooks. She had just finished reading her lone sixth-grade student’s essay when she heard a knock at the door. “Just a minute,” she said, not lifting her head. With a red pen she wrote an A+ on the top of the young man’s paper.
“Ruth?”
The deep voice made her head jerk up. “Zach,” she said, trying to hide her surprise. He stood in the doorway, and her stomach fluttered. How handsome he looked in his dark blue trousers, light yellow shirt, and straw hat. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his expression unsure.
“Is it all right if I come in?”
She nodded, rising from her chair. Seeing him made her realize how much she’d missed him. Truly missed him, like a part of her had disappeared in his absence. But this wasn’t about how she felt. It was about helping him.
He walked in the door, his steps almost tentative. His hands still in his pockets, he looked down at her. “I owe you an apology. Again.”
“Zach, I—”
“Ruth, I have to get this out before I lose my nerve.” He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. I was mad at myself, not at you.” He took a step backward. “All these years I’ve hidden the fact that I can’t read. I didn’t want anyone to think I was stupid.”
“No one thinks you’re stupid, Zach.”
“I do. I don’t get how to read. I never have. There’s something wrong with me.”
Ruth’s heart went out to him. “How can you say that? Zach, you’re so talented. Look at this place.” She held her arms out wide. “A month ago there was a huge hole in the wall!”
“Which I caused.”
“Accidentally caused. And you repaired everything almost exclusively on your own. You know how smart you have to be to do that? I’ve grown up around carpenters. I know what I’m talking about.”
“Look, Ruth, I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you do.” She moved toward him. “I don’t think you appreciate what I’m saying at all. I also don’t think you appreciate yourself. Not like I do.” The words slipped out, but instead of wishing she hadn’t said them, she continued. “Let me help you, Zach. I can teach you how to read.”
“You don’t know what a tall order that is.”
“I don’t care.”
He stepped away from her. “I’m fine, Ruth. Really. Things are going great for me at the shop and hopefully David can bring me on full-time. I feel better about life than I have in a long time. I don’t need to learn how to read.”
But his words didn’t jibe with the pain she saw in his eyes. She noticed something else too. At that moment she realized what held him back. “You’re afraid.”
His brows lifted. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Ya. You are.” She stepped closer to him, and when he tried to move away from her, she put her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Zach.”
He looked at her hand on his arm, and she started to pull away. Before she could, he covered it with his own.
His hand felt warm. Strong. She looked up at him through her glasses, still seeing the fear there. What could she do to reassure him? Lord, help him understand that I’m here for him. That I won’t give up on him, and I never will.
“What if I can’t?” he suddenly said in a low voice. His hand, still covering hers, tightened. “What if I never learn to read?”
She smiled at him. “You will, Zach. I promise you will.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
“It’s okay.” Her smile widened. “I have enough for both of us.”
The morning after her father’s collapse, Deborah rose early, before Will woke up. She went into the kitchen where Naomi sat at the table, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. Her sister didn’t look up or acknowledge her as she entered the room. It was as if everything was back to normal. But things between her and her sister were never normal, and after yesterday, she didn’t see how they ever could be.
Deborah pulled out a pot, filled it with water for oatmeal, and put it on the stove to boil. She added a little salt. While she waited on the water, she got two slices of bread out of the pantry and put a small amount of butter on each. Soon she had breakfast ready for her father and set it on a tray to take to his room. She turned to Naomi, who still had her head buried in the newspaper.
“Do you want anything?” At least she could try to be civil.
Naomi continued to ignore her. The only sound in the kitchen was the whispering of the newspaper page being turned. Deborah swallowed her ire and left the kitchen. When she reached her father’s room, she knocked on the door with her elbow.
“Come in,” she heard him say.
She walked in and smiled at him. “Breakfast! Thought you might be hungry since you missed supper last night.” She still couldn’t believe her father had slept for the rest of the afternoon and night. The sedative Dr. Williams had given him must have been powerful.
With weary eyes her father looked at the tray in Deborah’s hands. “Danki, Deborah. But Naomi already brought me breakfast about an hour ago.”
Deborah froze. Naomi had watched her make the food, and she must have known it was for their daed when Deborah put it on the tray. And still she said nothing.
“Everything all right?” He shifted to a half-sitting, half-leaning position on the bed.
> Remembering what the doctor said about keeping her daed’s stress level low, she said, “It’s all fine.” She set the breakfast on his dresser and walked over to him. “Do you need anything else?”
“Ya.” He held his hands out in front of him, gesturing to the bed. “I need to get out of this bed and back to work.”
“You can’t do that. Not yet. The doctor said—”
“I know what the doctor said. Naomi told me. Stole twenty minutes of my life giving me a lecture about eating habits and stress.” He frowned. “That young doc means well but doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I didn’t have no heart attack. I was just tired.”
Deborah pulled up the oak rocking chair that was in the corner of the room. “We want you to get plenty of rest. Naomi and I can help out. Whatever you need us to do, we’ll do it.”
He shook his head. “I know you will, but you have enough to do as it is. Plus you need to take care of my grosssohn. And I don’t want to always depend on other people in the community to help me out. They have their own families to take care of.”
“Daed, I know you like to do things on your own, but it’s okay to accept help, especially from familye and freind.”
“I know that.” He leaned back against his pillow and sighed. “It’s just . . . well, I ain’t what I used to be. I can’t spend the rest of my days depending so much on other people.”
“Oh, Daed.” She didn’t want to hear him talk like this, even though those thoughts had entered her mind too. She needed to know for sure what he planned to do. “Stephen told me something the other day.”
He lifted a gray eyebrow. “What?”
“He said you were thinking about selling the farm.” She looked at her father, almost afraid to hear his answer. “Is that true?”
He shrugged, staring down at his lap. “Eventually, I might have to.”
Her throat constricted. “But I know how much you love this place. There’s got to be something else we can do.”
Her father stared straight ahead. “I don’t know what.” Then he looked at Deborah. “But I want you to understand, I won’t sell to just anyone. The mann who buys this farm has to love the land like I do. I’m not handing over this farm just so some yahoo can put a fast-food place on it.”
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 69