Anna's Forgotten Fiancé (Amish Country Courtships Book 2)

by Carrie Lighte

  “You promise you’ll ask the doctor whether or not you’re able to return to work?” she prodded.

  “Of course I will,” Anna reassured her. “What I’m more concerned about is helping you with preparations for the weddings.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Naomi said, cupping Anna’s face in her hands. “Having to prepare for the weddings was the best thing that could have happened to me. Without the deadline of your wedding dates, who knows how long I might have lolled about in misery?”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling more energetic, but I still intend to help. There’s so much cooking, cleaning and organizing to do. And wherever will our guests stay?”

  “I’ll wilkom your help if the doctor allows, and for what it’s worth, I intend to put Melinda to work, too. As for our guests, some of them will stay here and those who are related to the Chupps will stay with Aaron’s family. We’ll make do. I’m just pleased to hear you’re more certain about going through with your wedding now.”

  Anna hardly felt certain, but Naomi was so upbeat that Anna didn’t want to discourage her by rationalizing that even if she canceled her wedding to Fletcher, their household preparations wouldn’t be in vain, since Melinda’s wedding was only a week later. Instead, she replied, “As you’ve said, there’s still time to decide. And I’m hopeful the doctor will have something promising to say about when I can expect my memories will return.”

  The medical center was on the opposite end of Highland Springs and although Fletcher worked the horse into a fast clip, he took care to ensure the carriage remained steady. They arrived in plenty of time for Anna to check in and he dropped her off in front of the building so he could take the buggy around the corner to the designated lot. Aaron had rarely been heedful of her comfort, so Anna was pleasantly surprised by Fletcher’s chivalry, especially in light of her anxiety about the appointment.

  “Would you like me to kumme into the examining room with you?” Fletcher asked when he reunited with her in the waiting area.

  “Jah, I think the doctor is only going to look into my eyes and talk to me about my progress. And this way, you can ask him your questions, too,” she suggested. The truth was Fletcher’s presence had a calming effect on her, and she needed that right now.

  The doctor was a rotund bald man, who shook hands with both of them. “I’m Dr. Donovan,” he said. “I’ve met you and your family in the hospital, Anna, but you may not remember me. Many patients don’t after they’ve had a head injury. Sometimes it’s because of their concussions and sometimes it’s because of the medication we give them.”

  Anna squinted at the doctor and then apologized. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “That’s okay, I’ve been told I have a forgettable face, although my wife likes it,” the doctor jested. “How have you been feeling?”

  “Fine,” Anna answered, clasping her hands on her lap.

  “Fine as in you don’t want to complain in front of your fiancé, or fine as in you haven’t had any nausea, fatigue, headaches or blurred vision at all? Most patients do, you know,” the doctor stated, settling into a chair.

  “Well, my head feels a bit heavy but I wouldn’t say it aches, and I suppose my energy isn’t what it usually is,” she admitted. “The other day I had a pretty severe bout of nausea, too.”

  “Has that happened often?” the doctor asked.

  “Only once.” Anna dipped her head and scraped at her thumbnail. “But it was because my friend handles his buggy like a madman.”

  “I see. Well, that’s understandable. And how about your moods, how are they?”

  Anna bit her lip. “With the grace of Gott, I try to be gut-natured, but I’m afraid I don’t always succeed.”

  “I’m sure you do your best, Anna,” Dr. Donovan said and his eyes twinkled. “But what I mean is, are there times when you experience extreme mood swings? Times when you’ve felt exceedingly angry or despondent, or even elated? Anything like that?”

  She hesitated, wondering if her ambiguous feelings about the wedding qualified as mood swings, before shaking her head.

  “It’s not extreme, but I have noticed Anna is weepier than she was before the accident,” Fletcher offered. “She seems on the verge of tears more often than not.”

  “Does she—” Dr. Donovan began to ask Fletcher, but then rephrased the question and directed it toward Anna instead. “Do you suffer any prolonged periods of crying? Times when you just can’t stop? Or any other unprovoked outbursts of emotion?”

  “Neh, nothing like that,” she stated.

  The doctor smiled. “I suppose with four brothers at home, there’s plenty to provoke an outburst now and then, isn’t there?”

  The three of them chuckled before Dr. Donovan continued, this time asking Fletcher, “Have you noticed any other differences in Anna’s temperament?”

  Fletcher replied carefully, “She’s, er, less relaxed than she used to be. Not as easygoing.”

  Heat rose in Anna’s cheeks. She realized she’d felt tearful and tense lately, but she regretted it was so obvious to others. Was her behavior off-putting to Fletcher?

  Dr. Donovan must have caught her expression because he winked at her and joshed, “When your fiancé suffers a traumatic brain injury, we’ll see how relaxed he feels, right?”

  “I didn’t mean to sound critical,” Fletcher said, and it was his turn to blush. “I only meant to point out a difference.”

  “It was good you did,” the doctor replied. “I asked about it because it’s important for me to be informed immediately if Anna experiences any extreme mood changes, like those I mentioned. That said, many head and brain injury patients are generally out of sorts following their accidents. Some of that is due to residual pain, some of it’s a medication side effect and some of it is because they’re quite literally not themselves. At least, not until their brains are fully recovered. It takes patience. Which may be very frustrating and even frightening for them as well as for the people who care about them. But it’s all part of the healing process.”

  Anna leaned back in her chair, reassured by the doctor’s assertion that what she was experiencing was both normal and temporary.

  “How is your memory, Anna?” he asked. “Do you recall what happened the day before the accident? How about the week before? The month?”

  With each question, Anna shook her head. They discussed what she did recall—confirming her latest preaccident memories were of late August—and then the doctor performed a brief examination, looking into her eyes and checking her neurological reflexes.

  “Overall, I’m pleased with your progress,” he said when he completed the exam. “Your scans look good—great, in fact. I think the nausea you described will subside in time, especially now that you’re not taking any medication.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Anna responded politely. “But what about my memory loss?”

  “You do have a longer period of amnesia than most,” Dr. Donovan admitted. “It’s called retrograde amnesia—meaning, you can’t recall things that happened before the accident. Most people lose a few minutes, a couple of hours or even a day or two. You’ve lost about five or six months of memory. Now, before you get too worried, I’ll tell you I’ve had patients who have lost up to three years!”

  This fact was little consolation to her and judging from the wrinkles across Fletcher’s forehead, he wasn’t finding it to be reassuring, either.

  “Your memories could return like that,” Dr. Donovan said and snapped his fingers. “Or, more likely, they could come over time. Sometimes, patients will experience random memories we call islands of memory, because they might recall certain details of an event, but not the surrounding circumstances.”

  Anna bent toward him, her hands folded as if in prayer. “But isn’t there anything I can do to hasten my memories to return?” she asked.

  * * *


  Fletcher heard the note of desperation in Anna’s voice and it echoed his own feelings.

  “I’ve had patients’ families and friends try to recreate lost memories for them. Others surround themselves with familiar scents. Some people insist sage tea helped their memories return. I’ve even known people to try hypnotism,” answered Dr. Donovan. “What I recommend is getting plenty of rest.”

  “I’ve been resting all week,” Anna asserted. “But I have a job. I’m a clerk at a shop in town and I think I’m ready to return to work now.”

  Dr. Donovan crossed his arms. “I’d highly recommend you don’t. In fact, you shouldn’t do any more than what you’ve done at home this week, both mentally and physically. It will sound funny, but you need to avoid thinking too much. I’d also advise minimal reading and problem solving. Nothing involving lengthy periods of close concentration, such as sewing. And no strenuous activities. No pitching hay, no floor scrubbing, nothing more vigorous than collecting eggs from the henhouse. I’d suggest limiting your exertion to a slow, daily stroll in the fresh air.”

  “But I have to help prepare the house for the wedding,” Anna protested and her eyes welled.

  Dr. Donovan raised his brows at Fletcher. “I’m certain your fiancé would rather have his bride healthy than anything else, right?”

  Whether Anna actually became his bride or not, Fletcher agreed her health was paramount. “Anna, if rest is what it takes for you to recover and your memory to return, I’m sure Naomi will take over until you’re better,” he reasoned.

  Dr. Donovan held up his hand. “I want to caution you both that while rest may be helpful in restoring Anna’s memory, there’s no guarantee. But the benefits of rest—for both body and mind—greatly outweigh the risks of overexertion at this point. Further, the more pressure Anna is under, the less likely she is to get the memory results you both want. So, take each day as it comes and keep your expectations in check. And remember, it’s crucial that Anna doesn’t experience a lot of stress or become too upset.”

  Fletcher and Anna both nodded without replying.

  “Why such long faces?” the doctor inquired. “Anna is recovering well, whether or not her memory returns. There’s a good chance it will, but if it doesn’t, it’s a loss but it’s not the end of the world. You have your entire lives together to make new memories, right?”

  Fletcher cleared his throat and spoke deliberately. “Anna and I only met in September. She has no recollection of me and we’re scheduled to be wed in about a month. We have certain...certain concerns.”

  Dr. Donovan blew the air out of his cheeks and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “Ah, I understand now,” he said, before readjusting his frames behind his ears. Slanting forward, he said, “I see how that could be problematic. But it also might be one of the best blessings a couple could ever receive. There’s no thrill like falling in love with each other for the first time. It sounds as if you two have the opportunity to experience that joy twice!”

  From the corner of his eye, Fletcher could see Anna’s cheeks blossom with pink. Amish couples didn’t usually speak of such intimate matters to anyone, much less to Englisch acquaintances, but Dr. Donovan didn’t seem to notice their embarrassment.

  He rolled his chair back, saying, “Alright, then, I’d like to see you back here in two weeks unless any of your symptoms worsen instead of improve. Meanwhile, have a little fun getting to know each other again. Falling in love is a gift. It’s something to celebrate.”

  Fletcher realized the kind man meant his words to be encouraging, but as he shook the doctor’s hand goodbye, he thought this felt nothing like a time of celebration. Indeed, while they journeyed back toward Willow Creek, Anna seemed somber, as well. He wasn’t ready to discuss what the doctor said about her memory returning or how they might spend the next couple of weeks, so Fletcher was relieved when she didn’t broach those topics, either. But she remained quiet for so long he finally asked if the journey was nauseating her.

  “Neh, not at all. This has been a very smooth ride,” she replied. “I was just thinking how disappointed Joseph will be to learn I can’t yet return to the shop.”

  “Are you disappointed?” Fletcher asked.

  Anna giggled. “To be honest, neh, not really. I’d much rather help Naomi manage the household. And I’ll admit that it’s been necessary for me to rest in between tasks recently, which I couldn’t do at the shop. I worry I wouldn’t be efficient there, even if I were allowed to return. But I feel bad leaving Joseph shorthanded. The store was packed with customers when I stopped by the other morning.”

  Fletcher pulled on the rein and the horse turned toward the right, exiting the main roadway. “Would it be possible for Melinda to temporarily take your place?”

  “Jah!” Anna practically hopped up from the seat. “What a great idea, Fletcher! I’m sure she’ll prefer working in town, and I dare say Naomi will appreciate having her out of her hair for a while.”

  Fletcher grinned, pleased he could provide Anna with a satisfactory solution to at least one of the problems she was facing. Her praise always made his chest swell and today, it gave him hope that they might be able to work out whatever other concerns she had, too. But first, he’d have to help her remember them, of course. So, before dropping her off for the evening, he said, “I’ll have to work late tomorrow and Friday night because I left early today, but I’d like to take you out alone on Saturday, if I may?”

  “Denki, I’d like that.” Her cheek dimpled as she replied.

  Fletcher felt so encouraged that when he returned home, he took out his toolbox for the first time since receiving Anna’s note and began working on his wedding gift for her: he was resectioning one area of the parlor into an alcove so she could have privacy for reading and writing in her journal. As he was sanding a length of board, he began thinking about ways in which he could help jog Anna’s memory without pressuring her. By the time he put away his tools for the night, he was so eager for the date he’d planned that he almost hoped her memory wouldn’t come back before he had a chance to see her again.

  Chapter Four

  Upon waking on Saturday morning, Anna kept her eyes closed, hoping her memory had been restored overnight. Once again, she was disappointed that nothing from the past six months came to mind. She blinked to see Melinda rummaging through a drawer. Usually Anna was awake long before her cousin, who required considerable rousing to get out of bed, especially after she’d been out with Aaron the previous night. Anna figured Melinda must be excited about beginning her first day of work at Schrock’s Shop.

  “Guder mariye,” Melinda sang out. “Do you suppose I might borrow a few hair clips?”

  Anna yawned as she pushed herself onto her elbows. “I gave you my hair clips earlier in the week. Did you misplace them?”

  “Neh, you never gave them to me,” Melinda replied. “Perhaps you gave some to Naomi, but not to me.”

  “I’m certain I gave them to you,” Anna insisted. “In fact, I was running low myself but I let you use them because it hurt my head to gather my hair tightly. Don’t you remember?”

  Melinda shrugged. “Neh, but that’s okay. Naomi probably has extras.”

  Anna didn’t mind about the hair clips in particular as much as she minded the fact Melinda denied Anna gave her the accessories in the first place. How could Melinda be that inattentive? Before Anna could think of a kind way to point out her carelessness, the young woman hurried from the room.

  Anna dressed quickly and scurried into the kitchen, too. Fletcher had already picked up Roy and Raymond for their half day of work, and he’d bring them home at dinnertime, too, since he was taking Anna on an outing. Meanwhile, she decided to offer to transport Melinda into town. Whether unintentionally or not, the doctor hadn’t expressly prohibited Anna from handling the horse and buggy, and she was feeling cooped up. Besides, she wanted to purchase more ha
irpins so she could tidy her appearance before going out with Fletcher.

  When Anna suggested to Naomi that she wanted to take Melinda to Schrock’s, her stepmother replied, “Denki, but I have to go to town anyway to buy baking supplies.”

  “Why don’t you let me pick them up?” Anna asked, knowing the heavy Saturday traffic would be unsettling to Naomi, who was easily flustered by the Englisch trucks and tour buses.

  “Neh, I need to buy in bulk, in preparation for our wedding guests,” she countered. “The items will be too heavy for you to carry. The doctor’s list prohibits heavy lifting, remember?”

  “I’ll take Eli and Evan with me. They’re strong—they can carry the packages. If they’re especially helpful, we might even stop at Yoder’s Bakery for a treat afterward,” Anna bargained. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Jah, we’ll help Anna. Please can we go, Mamm?” pleaded Evan.

  “It will keep us out from underfoot,” Eli reasoned, using one of his mamm’s expressions for effect, “instead of muddying your freshly scrubbed floors.”

  “Jah, alright, but you’ll still have to complete your chores when you return,” Naomi warned the boys as they shot out the door ahead of Anna and Melinda.

  On the way, as Eli and Evan were distracted in the back seat with dividing the shopping list between them, Anna again brought up the topic of the hair clips. “I can replace the pins, Melinda,” she said. “But it troubled me to hear you say I never gave them to you. You need to be more focused. If a customer at Schrock’s gives you a large bill and you aren’t paying attention, you may neglect to give them their correct change. That will create problems for everyone.”

  “I’m quite certain that won’t happen,” Melinda said breezily. “After all, I’m not the one with amnesia.”

  Anna’s ears were ringing, but she responded calmly. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Only that I don’t recall you ever giving me your hairpins, so I have to believe you’re mistaken. It’s not your fault, necessarily. You’re probably just remembering it wrong.”