by Marta Perry
“I don’t see why,” he said, keeping his voice easy. “Plenty of Amish who create things for sale put their names to them. It’s not a matter of pride, just of letting the buyer know what he’s getting.”
She nodded, but he could see a reservation in those deep blue eyes. “Still, your milk doesn’t say Nathan King on it.”
“True, but it does say Pleasant Valley Cooperative, and everyone who buys it knows what that means. Besides, our milk sells directly to people who know us. But plenty of Englisch, tourists even, will buy a jar of your honey. I’d think it would give them pleasure to put a name to the person who made it.”
Funny, that he was taking so much time trying to convince Naomi of something that many people would take for granted. Even among the Amish, there were certainly those who were more prideful than others, though they’d be the last to admit it.
Maybe that was the key. A person like Naomi, with her genuine humility, worried about any hint of pride creeping into what she did, while those who already had a bit more self-confidence than they needed never considered it.
Naomi was nodding, her smooth forehead a bit wrinkled in thought. “I heard Katie say once that Englischers who come in to buy a quilt from her or a piece of furniture from Caleb always want to have a bit of knowledge about the maker. She said they are looking for something handmade, because so much in their lives isn’t.”
“Since Katie Brand is a gut businesswoman, you would probably do well to listen to her. Those decorated jars she suggested have sold well, ain’t so?”
Naomi’s frown disappeared in amusement. “All right, you have convinced me. The jars should have my name. I just wish I knew how to make labels that would look a bit prettier.” She glanced at the clock. “I should be letting you relax, not keeping you here talking about my labels, of all things.”
“I enjoyed it.” He found himself wanting her to stay a bit longer. He wanted to sit and talk over cups of cocoa, laughing over the events of the day.
The feeling was so strong that he nearly reached out to her. He managed to suppress it.
“I’m in no hurry to do anything, including relaxing,” he said. “I was thinking a cup of that cocoa you made for the kinder would taste gut, if there’s any left.”
“I kept some in case you wanted a cup. Just let me warm it.” Naomi swept up the papers in a single gesture and put them in her basket as she moved to the gas range.
He ought to tell her he could do it himself, that she could get on home. But that odd longing for even a pretense of a normal life held him in its grasp. He’d had it for a few minutes while they’d talked about her project. He didn’t want it to end so quickly.
“Did you have a nice Christmas lunch today at Leah Glick’s?”
“Ach, ja.” She didn’t immediately turn away from the stove, and when she did, she was smiling. “Leah is a wonderful-gut cook, and she made such a delicious meal.”
“And you had lots of chatter about the old days, ja? Talking about who your come-calling friends were and who talked to which boy at the singing.”
Nathan had a sudden vivid mental picture of that group of girls clustered under a cherry tree in blossom after worship one Sunday, all laughing and talking so much that it was a wonder anyone had listened. Ada had been at the center, of course, her face vibrant and alive.
“Ja, we did some reminiscing.” Naomi poured the cocoa into a mug, holding the pan with a pot holder as the steam rose in her face. “Someone—Rachel, I think—was talking about the time some of you boys shot off fireworks and nearly set the woods on fire.”
He grinned, remembering that night. “We were that scared when we saw the flames shoot up. It seemed like forever until we could get the fire out, but it probably wasn’t more than a couple of minutes.” He shook his head. “I get scared all over again when I think of Joshua taking such foolish risks as we took.”
“Joshua’s a sensible boy, and a responsible one for his age.” Naomi set the mug in front of him. “But you know as well as I do what nonsense teenagers can get up to. Especially boys. Luckily you have a few more years before you have to deal with it.”
He nodded, lifting his cup. “Aren’t you going to have some, Naomi?”
She’d been reaching for her coat, but she stopped, drawing her hand back. “Well, maybe half a cup.”
He grinned. “That’s what Daad always says. Are you picking that saying up from him?”
“Maybe so.” She lifted down another mug and poured. “When you’re around people all the time, you tend to pick up their ways, I guess.”
“Maybe Sadie will pick up some of your calm and patience, then.” He paused, but surely he could voice this thought to Naomi. She was safe. “I worry, sometimes, when she goes from being happy to being upset in the blink of an eye. I mean, Jessie is Ada’s sister, and I wouldn’t want to see Sadie growing up like her.”
The thought of Jessie’s mood swings and uncontrollable temper transferred to his Sadie gave him chills.
“Sadie is like her mammi,” Naomi said, her tone reassuring. “Ada always showed her feelings—that was what people loved about her. But Jessie—” She frowned, shaking her head and staring down into the cocoa as if she expected to find answers there. “What was normal and lovable in Ada is somehow twisted in Jessie.”
Nathan wanted to repeat the familiar assurances, that Jessie was just immature, that her tantrums didn’t mean anything. But he couldn’t, not to Naomi, who knew her so well. Maybe it would be a relief to speak the truth about Jessie for once.
“Twisted,” he repeated thoughtfully. “That is as gut a word as any. When she is disappointed she doesn’t cry or look sad. She takes it out on other people.”
Naomi nodded, cupping her hands around the mug as if grateful for its warmth. “It worries me, her being at the house alone while Emma is in rehab. Emma can handle her, but—”
She stopped, head lifting, eyes alert, as if she’d heard something he didn’t. And then he heard it, too, coming from the children’s room—an odd, barking, shrill cough that sounded as if one of them was choking to death.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Naomi reached the children’s bedroom a second after Nathan, her heart pounding. Nathan was already switching on the battery-powered light, and she went straight to Sadie, scooping the child up in her arms.
Sadie blinked in the light. A spasm of coughing hit her, and her eyes grew round and terrified.
“She’s choking,” Nathan cried. “Do something.”
Frightened by the terror in her daadi’s voice, Sadie began to cry, that shrill cough seizing her again.
“Hush, hush.” Naomi held Sadie against her, rubbing her back. Obviously she was going to have to calm both Nathan and the child. “She is not choking. She has the croup, nothing worse.”
“Croup?” Some of the fear went out of Nathan’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Ja, I’m sure. I’ve seen it and heard it enough times with Isaiah.” She smoothed Sadie’s hair back from her face. “When Isaiah was little like you, he used to get the croup, too. It gives you a funny cough, doesn’t it? It sounds like an animal barking.”
Sadie nodded, still looking scared, but her frenzied grasp on Naomi’s arm eased a little. Then she coughed again, and she started to cry.
“It’s all right.” Naomi stood, holding the distraught child.
“I’ll call for the doctor.” Nathan started toward the door, bumping into Joshua’s bed.
“No, don’t bother to call. Go to the kitchen and start some water to boil in a large kettle on the stove.” She understood his worry, but it was more important now to treat the child than to make a probably futile call to the doctor this late.
Nathan hesitated, and it was clear that his instincts all told him to rush to call a doctor.
“Trust me, Nathan. Please. Believe that I know what I’m doing.” She began wrapping a blanket around Sadie, talking soothingly to her.
Would Nathan listen, or was his panic fo
r his daughter too great to accept her word? She heard his footsteps hurrying on the stairs, and then the clatter of a pan in the kitchen.
Good, he was doing as she said. But she didn’t have time to feel relief, because Joshua was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He stared at her, looking confused and frightened.
“Was ist letz? Naomi, is something wrong? Why is Daadi upset? What’s wrong with Sadie?”
“Everything is all right.” She had to take a moment to comfort him. “Sadie has a bad cough, but Daadi and I will take gut care of her. You can lie down and go to sleep again.”
He shook his head, shivering a little in the cool air of the bedroom. “I can’t go back to sleep. I’m scared.”
She didn’t want to have both of them up, but she could understand how scary it would be for Joshua, lying up here listening to sounds from downstairs and imagining the worst.
Sadie began to cough again, catching her breath on a sob. Naomi had to get the child downstairs. She made a quick decision about Joshua.
“Bring your blanket, and put your slippers on. You can stay up for a little bit until we get Sadie settled.”
She carried Sadie down the steps, not waiting to see if he obeyed her. Nathan waited at the bottom, his hand taut on the railing.
“I started the water heating. But I still think I should call the doctor.”
Naomi hurried on past him and into the kitchen, Nathan following. “If you call, he will only say to take her to the emergency room. Then you will have to call for Ben or one of the other drivers to come, and by the time all that happens and you get her to the hospital, the attack will be over.”
“How can you be sure?” Fear threaded through the question, and she suspected her mention of the hospital scared him as much as anything.
Forcing a smile, Naomi tried to put as much reassurance as possible into her voice and expression. “I know how scary the cough sounds. It scared me to death the first time I heard it, and I reacted just the way you did. But my mamm knew exactly what to do, and she showed me.”
That had been a gut thing, now that she thought of it. In another year, Mamm had been gone and she’d been the one to get up in the night when one of the little ones was sick.
“Joshua never had anything like this cough. Colds, ja, but nothing that sounded like Sadie’s cough.” Nathan still sounded worried, but not as panicked as he had a few minutes ago.
“Some kinder are just susceptible to croup. I don’t know why that is. My sister Sara had it once or twice, but Isaiah was the worst. He seemed to get it several times a year when he was Sadie’s age, and then he suddenly outgrew it and never had it again.”
Nathan didn’t respond, and she had to hope he had begun to accept her words.
She carried Sadie over to the stove. “Look, Sadie, we’re going to get the kettle nice and steamy. And then we’ll make a little tent and you and I will put our heads under it. That will make it easier for you to breathe without coughing.”
Sadie clung to her, still frightened, but she nodded. She pressed her face against Naomi’s shoulder, and Naomi’s heart swelled with love.
There was a shuffle of slippers and Joshua came in, trailing his blanket. Nathan swung toward him. “Joshua, what are you doing up?”
“I told him he could come down for a bit, just until he sees that Sadie is all right,” Naomi said quickly. “He won’t be in the way.”
Sadie began that sharp, barking cough again, and Nathan winced. “Hush, hush, little girl.” She stroked Sadie’s back, trying to send comfort through her touch. “It will be better soon.”
She sat down next to the table, pulling another chair over close to them for the kettle. Naturally it was taking what seemed an eternity to boil.
“What can I do?” Nathan sounded calmer as the initial panic wore off. “What else do you need?”
“Either a small blanket or a large towel. We’re going to spread it over our heads to keep the steam in.”
Nathan nodded, starting out of the room, and then paused, looking at his son. He seemed to come to a decision.
“Joshua, you can run upstairs to the closet where we keep the sheets and towels. Take the flashlight so you can see what you’re doing, and bring that great big blue towel, ja?”
“I can do it, Daadi.” Joshua ran to take the flashlight from its hook by the door. He darted toward the stairs, and Naomi could hear his hurrying feet above them.
“Gut,” she murmured, and saw from Nathan’s expression that he understood what she meant. He was trusting Joshua instead of instantly doing it himself. That was good for both of them.
By the time Joshua returned, the kettle was boiling.
“Denke, Joshua.” Naomi took the towel from him. It was bath-sheet size, and it would work perfectly. “You sit on the chair over there,” she said, gesturing to the other side of the table. “Wrap up in your blanket, so you stay warm. We don’t want you getting sick, as well.”
Joshua nodded, climbing onto the chair. He watched curiously as Nathan transferred the boiling kettle to the chair.
“Now, we must be careful not to touch the hot pan.” Naomi wrapped Sadie’s blanket securely around her so that she couldn’t inadvertently move and bump the kettle. “We are going to lean over the steam like this, and Daadi will put the towel over our heads.”
Nathan nodded, reaching for the towel. In a moment the dark towel stretched over their heads, cutting off the room.
Naomi pressed her cheek close to Sadie’s, feeling the steam full in their faces. “Just breathe in like you always do. That’s right. Nice, even breaths in and out. The steam is going to loosen up your throat inside, so that you won’t sound like a barking animal anymore.”
Sadie coughed again, but the sound was looser, not as frightening.
“There, you see, it’s getting better already.”
“I don’t like it in here,” Sadie said fretfully. “I can’t see.”
“Of course you can’t see,” Naomi said, relieved to hear Sadie sounding more normal. “We are two little bees in our dark beehive. But even though we can’t see anything, we know we are safe with our family around us. We can hear their wings moving, helping to keep us warm. Can you buzz a little, just to say denke?”
That caught Sadie’s imagination, as Naomi had hoped, and she produced a gentle buzz. She coughed again, but this time her little body didn’t tighten with fear.
“That’s right,” Naomi said gently. “Everything is going to be fine, you’ll see. Coughing is nothing to be afraid of.”
Sadie began to relax, and the inevitable tension that Naomi felt eased as well. She’d been confident there was no reason to rush off to the hospital in the middle of the night. Still, it was a relief to know she’d been right.
If this had happened when she wasn’t here, what would Nathan have done? She imagined him running out into the dark, trying to hold Sadie and call for help at the same time. It certain-sure wasn’t easy, being the only parent.
Naomi felt Sadie droop as she relaxed, and she shifted so that Sadie was leaning against her. The steam had perspiration streaking down both their faces, and while Sadie would look adorable with her cheeks pink and her damp hair curling against her face, Naomi suspected she looked like a drowned rat. Still, her appearance hardly mattered.
Finally, as the kettle began to cool, she eased the towel back from over their heads. The air in the kitchen felt chilly against her damp hair.
Nathan regarded her anxiously. “Should I heat the water again? Is it over?”
“She may need another treatment. Let’s just keep the water hot on the stove. I want to get her into a dry nightgown and towel her hair.” She glanced at Joshua, nearly asleep on the straight kitchen chair. “And I think we can get that one back in his bed.”
“Ja.” Nathan smiled at his children as he set the heavy kettle back on the stove and turned the gas on to a low flame. “I’ll carry him up, shall I? I can bring down another towel and a fresh nightgown for Sadie.”
Naomi nodded, leaning back in the chair with the sleeping child. She felt as if she had been running some kind of race—winded and exhausted but unable yet to relax. From what she remembered of Isaiah’s attacks of croup, the first one often led to several more.
Sadie’s breathing still seemed tight, her heart beating faster than normal. It could be a long night.
She heard the sounds of Joshua being tucked into bed upstairs…the creak of the bedsprings, a sleepy murmur from the child, Nathan’s comforting bass rumble answering him. In a moment he was back, carrying a couple of towels and a small white nightgown.
“Let’s see if we can ease this damp one off without waking her.” Naomi kept her voice low. If Sadie could sleep, that was the best thing.
“Just hold her,” Nathan said, bending over them. “I’ll do it.”
His face was very close to hers as he bent over his daughter—so close that at one point she could feel the warmth of his skin, see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. She tried to close her mind, to shut out any foolish speculation, but she couldn’t seem to breathe.
And then someone was knocking at the back door, calling Nathan’s name. Naomi smoothed the nightgown into place and wrapped the blanket more securely around the sleeping child as Nathan went to answer.
She heard Isaiah’s voice, and then his ruddy face appeared around the corner of the door between the kitchen and the back hall.
“Ach, I don’t need to ask what’s going on,” he said. “I know croup when I see it.”
Nathan pushed him into the room and came in behind him. “Don’t hold the door open.”
“Sorry.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Poor little one. But Naomi will take gut care of her.”
“Ja.” Nathan didn’t say more, but a message seemed to pass between them as he looked at Naomi. He trusted her, and her heart swelled.
“We were worried when we didn’t see you get home,” Isaiah said, touching Naomi’s shoulder lightly. “Do you want me to stay and walk with you?”