by Nancy Mehl
I wanted to ask just what she knew about husbands seeing that she’d never been married, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. Sweetie was on a rampage, and it was best to stay out of the way when she let loose.
“Now the way I see it, you’re both wrong … and you’re both right.” She pointed at Sam again, but this time kept her finger out of his midsection. “Gracie has a talent, boy. And she not only wants to use it to help support the family you’re gettin’ ready to make, she has a responsibility to use the talents the good Lord gave her. You don’t need to sound like some old-school, he-man type who’s gonna take care of his little woman. This here marriage is gonna be a partnership, buddy. And you better get used to it.” She swung her gaze over to me, her irritation making her look like she’d been “suckin’ on a pail full of lemons.” Another one of Sweetie’s favorite expressions. “You gotta understand that Sam is gonna be the head of your house, young lady. You gotta treat him like you respect him, even when you don’t.” She shook her head. “I may not be married, but I done watched some folks down through the years. It’s the marriages where both people treat each other with respect that make it through the storms of life. I seen some women pick, pick, pick at their husbands until they turn into almost nothin’. Man’s gotta feel like his wife looks up to him.” She moved her face a little bit closer to mine. “And if you want your husband to change, you go talk to God about it. Don’t nag him yourself. Only God can change the inside of a human bein’. I seen folks turn into different people when their spouse quits harpin’ at ‘em, and they put the situation at the Lord’s feet.” She glanced at Sam. “This is for both of you. You both gotta love the good stuff and turn the other over to God. It’s the only way it’ll work. I’m as sure of that as I’m sure Gracie’s daddy is gonna come around.”
“And how could you possibly know that?” I asked.
Sweetie nodded and looked off into the distance. It was obvious she was thinking about her answer. After a moment she said, “That man is dealin’ with the past. He ain’t mad at you, son. He’s mad at himself. You two gotta give him time to work it out. He’ll be okay. I guarantee it.”
My father, who was supposedly “gonna come around” honked his car horn as a sign he was getting impatient.
“Sweetie, I hope you’re right,” I said. I got up, went over to Sam, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sure everything will be okay. Give me time to find out why my dad’s upset.” I smiled over at Sweetie. “Correction. Give me time to pray for my dad. Sweetie’s right, we’ve got to give God a chance to work this out.”
“And if He doesn’t?” Sam asked glumly.
I slapped him playfully on the head. “How about we just believe, and leave the rest of it up to Him? My mother told me once that faith doesn’t have a Plan B. There’s no option for failure. I say we stick to Plan A.”
Sam was quiet for a few seconds before he chuckled softly. “I have no chance against two women of faith, do I?” He reached up and grabbed my arms, pulling me down to him. Then he kissed me. “Okay, okay. Plan A all the way.”
My father’s car horn blared again, longer this time. I kissed Sam once more, ran over and threw my arms around Sweetie, hugged her, and then hurried out the front door. I opened the car door and slid into the backseat. Ida sat silently in the front passenger seat. The air was thick with tension, and I got the feeling that Ida and my father had been talking before I came out of the house. Must not have gone well. Dad drove Ida home and started to get out of the car so he could assist her to her door, but I jumped out quickly and announced that I would help her instead. I had Ida’s door open before my dad could protest. Holding on to my arm, she got out of the car and we walked slowly toward her porch.
“Your father is dealing with some painful feelings,” she said quietly as we stepped up on her stairs. “You must be patient, liebling. God is speaking to his heart.” She smiled up at me. “Everything will work out the way it is supposed to. I believe it in my heart of hearts.”
When we reached the top of the stairs I hugged her. “Sweetie said the same thing. I think you’re both right, although I can’t figure out what he’s so upset about. I know he’s felt bad about Uncle Benjamin, but I thought he was just about over that.”
Ida glanced back at the car where my father sat waiting. “Sometimes we make choices, Gracie. At the time, they may seem right in our minds, but in our hearts they may not set as well. We might ignore the voice of the heart; we may even cover it up with other things. But one day we will face it again, and then we must decide. Was the choice wrong or right? And if it was wrong, what can we do about it now?” She shook her head. “We make a mistake if we torment ourselves about the past since it does not really exist anymore. It is nothing more than a memory without weight or substance. The key is to leave the ghosts of yesterday behind and move forward with new choices. It is never too late with God.” She reached over and kissed me on the cheek. “Now your father faces a past choice—and a new one. I am afraid Sam only represents the choice he made long ago—one he may now regret. When Daniel realizes that today he can choose again, and that’s it’s not too late to get back what he lost, he will drop his misplaced anger toward Sam. I promise this.” She stroked my cheek. “You trust God, liebling, ja?”
I wrapped my arms around her. “Ja,” I whispered. “Ja.” I waited until Ida’s front door closed behind her before I went back to the car. I glanced at my father when I got into the front seat, but his expression didn’t invite conversation. We pulled out onto Faith Road and had almost reached my house when I noticed something strange on the road ahead. A black buggy was stopped on the side of the road, not moving. No one seemed to be near it.
“Dad, I want to check out that buggy. It looks like Gabe and Sarah’s.”
He drove past the house and parked on the side of the road. I got out and walked up to the side of the black buggy. Sarah Ketterling lay slumped over in her seat. I jumped up next to her and called out her name. Then I tried to rouse her, but she didn’t appear to be breathing.
Chapter Seventeen
My father helped me lift Sarah out of the buggy and onto the ground. He winced more than once from supporting her weight on his leg, even though she felt light as a feather to me. After checking her breathing, he yelled at me to go home and call John while he did CPR. I got in his car and quickly drove the short distance back to my house. I pulled the car up near the house, jumped out, and ran inside to the phone. Thankfully, John answered right away. My breath came in fast spurts as I told him about Sarah.
“I’m on my way, Gracie,” he said. “Try to get her cool and continue CPR until I get there.”
I hung up the phone and ran to the kitchen to get a pail of cool water and a towel while trying to explain what was going on to my mother. She promised to pray for Sarah as I hurried to the car.
When I got back to my father, I told him what John had said.
“She’s breathing,” he said, “but it’s shallow.” He frowned. “Help me get her out of these clothes.”
“Oh Dad. I don’t think …”
He stared into my face, his jaw tight. “Gracie, do you care more about this girl’s modesty or her life?”
I reached down and unfastened Sarah’s cap. Then with Dad’s help I rolled her onto her side and untied her apron.
“Foolish to wear all these clothes in hot July weather,” Dad said, his face flushed with frustration. “She probably has heatstroke.”
“Maybe that’s why John wanted us to cool her down.” I unpinned the back of her dress and pulled it down. From a situation last winter when Sarah had been found in the snow, I knew she wore a kind of sleeveless undergarment with an attached slip under her dress. She was still covered but now would feel much cooler. I moved the heavy clothes to the side and put her head on my lap. Then I began to wipe her face with cool water. My father bent over to check her breathing.
“We need to watch her carefully in case we need to start CPR again.” He tried to find
a comfortable position kneeling next to the unconscious girl, but the pain on his face was evident.
“Dad, I know CPR. If she needs it, I can do it.”
“We may both need to assist her.”
“No. I can take care of it myself.” I gently pushed him away. “You get off that leg. I don’t need to take care of both of you.”
He started to argue with me, but his face suddenly went white from pain. He struggled to stand up. I left Sarah and helped him to his feet, guiding him over to the buggy where he sat down on the back axle. Once I knew he was comfortable, I returned to Sarah and continued to keep her face, chest, and arms damp. Finally, I heard a small noise, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Sarah, can you hear me?”
She seemed confused at first, but then she stared up at me. “Oh my,” she whispered. “What happened?”
“You fainted.”
She started to sit up, but I gently pushed her back down. “We don’t know why you passed out, Sarah. I need you to stay still until John gets here. You’re probably just overheated, but we need to make sure.”
Although I’d been concentrating on making sure she was breathing, I was stunned by how thin she was. Her breastbone and ribs were visible beneath her damp undershirt.
“John?” she said, her voice thin and high pitched. “John’s coming here?”
I wiped her face with the wet rag. “Yes, of course. He’s a doctor.”
Sarah’s hands flew to her chest and she felt the thin material of her undershirt. “Oh Gracie! I can’t have him see me like this. Please … please …”
“Young lady,” my father said in a gruff tone, “wearing all that heavy clothing on a day like today is ridiculous. No wonder you fainted.”
Sarah’s dark eyes were huge in her pale face. “Gracie …”
The plaintive plea in her voice moved me to action. I pulled up the top part of her dress, covering her chest. “I will not put the rest of it on, Sarah,” I said, trying to sound as firm as possible. “I just won’t do it.”
Her thin fingers encircled my wrist. “Thank you, thank you. This is enough.” Once again, she struggled to sit up, and once again I resisted her efforts. It didn’t take much. She was so weak.
“Stay still,” I scolded. “You’re not moving until John takes a look at you.” The hot sun beat down on us. I could see how easy it would be to get heat exhaustion on a day like today. However, Sarah’s condition seemed to be more than simple heatstroke. Her obvious weight loss and the blue tinge to her lips worried me.
The sound of a car’s engine caused me to look up. John screeched to a halt a few yards from us. He jumped out of his SUV and ran toward us, a leather bag in his hand.
“She’s breathing now and awake,” I told him as I gently put Sarah’s head on her folded cape and stepped back so he could get close to her. While he looked her over, I checked on my father. He still seemed to be in pain and sweat ran down his face. “Let’s get you back in the car where there’s air-conditioning.” Surprisingly, he didn’t argue.
“I’ll just wait for you,” he said, leaning on my shoulder and hobbling toward the car. My father’s not the kind of person who likes to sit on the sidelines during an emergency. By the time I got him situated, my concern for him had grown.
“Gracie!” John was calling my name, so I made sure Dad was okay, and then I ran back to where John knelt in the road next to Sarah.
The look on his face alarmed me. He handed me a card. “This is the number of Emergency Services in Sunrise. I need you to call them right away and ask them to send an ambulance as soon as possible.”
“What’s wrong, John?”
He spoke softly to Sarah and got to his feet, leading me a few feet from the silent young woman who lay prostrate in the road. “This isn’t heatstroke. She’s been having chest pains, and she’s very weak.” He glanced back at Sarah, his expression one of desperation. “I think it’s her heart. It’s serious, Gracie. Very serious.”
I grabbed his arm. “John, she’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”
With fear-filled eyes he shook his head. “I don’t know, Gracie. I really don’t.”
“I’ll call this number and be right back.” I raced toward the car without saying another word. When I got in my father could see I was frightened.
“What’s going on?”
“Sarah’s in trouble, Dad. I’ve got to call an ambulance.” I pulled into my driveway and opened my door. “You stay here. Mom can get you inside while I call for help.” I ran up the steps and into the house, yelling for my mother who hurried in from the kitchen. After a brief explanation, she went out to get my father. I dialed the number on John’s card and gave our location to the dispatcher who answered the phone. He promised to have someone there within the next fifteen minutes. I hung up and jogged out to the porch, ignoring Papa who sat on the couch, watching all the turmoil.
“Let us know what happens, Gracie,” my mother said as I raced past her and my father. Dad was going up the steps slowly, but at least he was home where Mom could look after him. One patient out of the way.
I backed out of my driveway, almost knocking over my mailbox. Then I gunned the motor and sped back to where Sarah and John waited. After assuring John I’d placed the call, I knelt next to Sarah whose frightened eyes sought mine.
“John says something might be wrong, Gracie.” Her voice was so soft I could barely hear her. “I haven’t felt good for a while, but I thought it would pass. We’ve been working so hard in the shop …”
“That’s not it,” John interrupted, his tone harsh. “You didn’t do anything about it because you were afraid to come to my office. You’ve risked your health because of me.”
Sarah’s already pale face turned even whiter. “No, that’s not true. Please … please don’t say that …”
Without any warning, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted. John called her name several times, but she didn’t respond. I cried out involuntarily because she looked dead. John pulled her dress down and began doing chest compressions, his face grim.
“Watch for the ambulance, Gracie,” he said in a tone that shook me to my very core. “Make sure they don’t miss us.”
I ran out on the road so I could see any approaching vehicle. Within a few minutes, I spotted the ambulance barreling down the road, creating a storm of dust behind it. I waved my hands like a crazy person, making sure they saw us. They pulled up next to the buggy and two emergency workers jumped out, carrying equipment. John shouted instructions to them. One of the emergency workers inserted a needle in Sarah’s arm, attached to a plastic bag of clear liquid. The other moved into the spot where John had been working and put his head on Sarah’s chest. He took out something that looked like large scissors and cut down the length of the rest of her dress, throwing it aside. Then he opened the metal box he had with him and grabbed a couple of paddles. After adjusting some knobs on the instrument, he put the paddles on her chest and jolted Sarah. Her body jumped. He checked her, shook his head, and then repeated the procedure. Once again, he shook his head. In the meantime, the other worker gave her a shot and told the man with the paddles to try again. This time, he seemed satisfied with the results and ran over to his vehicle to get a gurney out of the back. All three men loaded Sarah up into the back of the ambulance. I heard the emergency technicians talking to John, but I couldn’t distinguish what they were saying. It was like my heart was pounding in my ears, and all I could hear was the sound of it beating. I began to pray with all my might, not caring who heard me or if I sounded deranged. One of the men jumped up into the back of the vehicle with Sarah while the other ran to the front, jumped in, and sped off. John jogged back to me.
“They wouldn’t let me go with them so I’ve got to follow in my car.”
“John, please tell me she’s going to be okay.” My voice shook, and I felt tears course down my cheeks.
“I—I don’t know, Gracie,” John said. “I really don’t.” He grabbed
my hands. “You say this God of yours is good—that He loves us. If that’s true, He’ll save Sarah.” The anguish in his voice was palpable. “You’ve got to pray … please. Please pray that she lives.”
I lowered my head and prayed with every ounce of faith in my heart. “Dear God, thank You for providing everything we need for life. We draw on Your goodness and Your mercy for our friend Sarah. We declare that she will live and not die, and that she will completely recover. Thank You for hearing our prayer.” I started to say “amen,” but surprisingly, John began to speak out loud.
“God, I know You don’t know me, but I believe You’re there. I’ve seen You in the lives and hearts of these people in Harmony. In the life and heart of Sarah Ketterling. Please God, I love her. Save her. Heal her. If You do, I’ll serve You the rest of my life. I promise.”
I waited a moment and then said, “Amen.”
John hugged me and hurried toward his car.
“Call me!” I yelled after him. “Call me after you check on her!”
I had no idea if he heard me or not. He drove away so quickly that when the dust cleared, I couldn’t see his SUV any longer. I got in my dad’s car and drove home. After parking in my driveway, I put my head down and prayed again. This time, I prayed for two lives. One for continued life in this world, and the other for a life in eternity.
Chapter Eighteen
Friday morning dawned with cloudy skies and rain. It was most welcome. We desperately needed it to help cool down temperatures and aid thirsty crops. There was more good news. Sarah had been moved to a hospital in Topeka and had improved so much it looked as if she could come home by Monday. She’d been diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, a disease that attacks the heart muscle. Caught early, it can be treated successfully with medicine. Sarah had ignored her symptoms for a while, causing her to feel weak and finally lose consciousness. According to John, if her condition had been left untreated, she could have easily died. He called me several times from Topeka, but I hadn’t actually seen him since Sarah’s collapse. Except for running back and forth to Harmony for a few patients who couldn’t wait, he stayed by her side constantly.