by Sarah Price
Somehow Myrna doubted that.
“I’ll run some cool water,” he said and hurried back into the kitchen.
Myrna quickly removed the baby’s dress and carried her to the changing table to clean her. “You poor little thing,” she cooed to Katie, who, as soon as the air hit her bare skin, began to whimper instead of cry. “We’ll cool you down.” Behind her, she could hear Ezekiel approach. From the sounds of the sloshing water, she knew that he carried a basin.
“Here.” He set it on the changing table. “And use these cloths.”
Carefully, Myrna dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out before dabbing at the baby’s hot skin. Ezekiel lingered behind her, watching her every move.
“I really don’t know what else to do for her,” Myrna said, hoping that he would suggest taking the baby to a doctor.
But Ezekiel stood there, staring at Katie, who now slept in Myrna’s arms. “Seems a bit better, don’t you think?”
Myrna frowned. “I suppose.”
“Well, she’s sleeping anyway.”
“I’m sure she’s exhausted, too.”
He nodded. “I imagine so.”
Above their heads, the sounds of feet on the floorboards indicated that the boys were starting to awaken.
“You stay with Katie,” he said. “I’ll tend to the boys.”
For the next two hours, Myrna held the baby, rocking her in the chair in the kitchen. Ezekiel had fed the three boys and taken David and Daniel outside, leaving Henry with strict instructions not to disturb Myrna or his sister. Now it was almost ten o’clock, and Myrna could feel that the fever was back.
The baby needed to see a doctor.
She waited until Henry took his nap before she bundled up Katie and put her into the stroller. She knew that she couldn’t take Katie to the doctor—not only because she had no way to get there, but because she didn’t want to upset Ezekiel. But if she could walk to the neighbors’ home and borrow their phone, she could call her father’s store and have Samuel or Timothy fetch her mother.
With her mother as support, perhaps they could convince Ezekiel that proper medical care for little Katie was necessary.
Chapter Thirty-One
Edna stood in the aisle of Yoders’ Store and stared at the shelving that held the packages of homemade cookies. She could hardly believe that those were their cookies in the clear cellophane wrappers, tied with pretty blue yarn and Bethany’s handwritten cards attached.
She couldn’t believe that more than half of the shelf was empty. And it was the second batch she’d brought to Yoders’. The drop cookies they’d baked the previous week had sold out by midday on Friday. One of the Yoder children had bicycled to Edna’s house and told her about it. Immediately, Edna had gathered the Cookie Club on Friday to bake more cookies and sent them with John to drop off at Yoders’ on Saturday morning before he went to the auction house.
“Edna? Is that you?”
She turned around and smiled as Barbara bustled down the aisle. “I can’t believe how pretty the display looks,” she said to the bishop’s wife. She pointed to the large sign overhead. “Who made that?”
Barbara craned her neck to look at the sign. “Oh, I reckon Steve Yoder had one of his boys make it.” She returned her attention to Edna. “It matches the cards that you made.”
“Actually, Mary’s Bethany made those,” Edna admitted. “She’s got a prettier hand than the rest of us combined.”
Barbara laughed. “Ja, my own hand is a bit shaky anymore.”
Edna stepped aside as a young woman and her two children walked toward them. She watched as the children immediately saw the cookies and asked their mother if they could have a package. To her surprise, the mother acquiesced and picked up not just one package but two!
When they were out of hearing, Barbara shook her head and whispered, “That’s the problem with the Englische. They don’t teach their kinner restraint.”
“One of many problems, I think,” Edna replied in a low voice.
“Well, anyway, I’m glad you could stop in today to see the display.” She pointed to a large, open gap. “It’s nearly empty already.”
Edna had noticed that. “Well, we’re gathering Wednesday at Verna’s haus to bake cookies to drop off to replace them.”
“Oh?” Barbara frowned. “I thought you all usually met at your haus to bake.”
Edna nodded. “Ja, we usually do, because my kitchen is bigger and set up for baking larger batches. But it’s gut to rotate houses. Besides, Myrna’s run into some problems, and Verna didn’t want to leave her alone.”
She noticed that Barbara immediately appeared concerned. “Oh bother! I hope it had nothing to do with Daniel Gingerich.”
That wasn’t a name Edna was familiar with. “I don’t know who that is,” she said. “But I’m sure it has nothing to do with whoever he is. Seems she’s had a falling-out with Ezekiel Riehl.”
Barbara clucked her tongue. “Oh, that poor man. I hope nothing is wrong.”
Immediately, Edna froze. “You know Ezekiel?”
“Of course.”
If Edna had been alone, she’d have slapped her own forehead. Why hadn’t she thought of speaking to Barbara before? With Barbara’s husband being the bishop, it made sense that she’d know of other happenings in nearby districts. And she’d certainly remember the death of Katie Ruth, the bishop’s daughter. Quite often, bishops preached at neighboring church districts and attended weddings and funerals.
“I’d heard that Myrna Bontrager was helping Ezekiel,” Barbara said. “He needed someone like Myrna to step in. I was glad to hear it. But you say they’ve had a falling-out?”
Edna gave a little shrug. “I’d hate to speculate . . .” She certainly didn’t want the bishop’s wife to think she was a gossip.
“I’ll pray for them,” Barbara said with a sigh. “I’d like nothing more than to see him married again, only this time to a kind woman from a good family.”
Edna frowned. “This time?”
Barbara pursed her lips. “Let’s just say that Katie Ruth’s father, Daniel Gingerich, is quite a difficult man, and Ezekiel never did get on well with the Gingerich family. Things only deteriorated after Katie Ruth fell ill.” She shook her head. “Such a shame, too. Ezekiel’s a truly kind man. He deserved better.”
Cocking her head to one side, Edna repeated Barbara’s words in her mind. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Sighing, Barbara stepped closer to her and lowered her voice. “Katie Ruth listened to her father over her husband. Why, Ezekiel all but cried to her, begging her to get treated for her cancer. But that bishop had her convinced that prayer alone would cure her.” She gave a soft tsk, tsk, tsk. “Nothing wrong with taking some medicine. God gave us the intelligence to make it. But in Katie Ruth’s case, she didn’t have the common sense to take it.”
Stunned, Edna tried to wrap her head around what Barbara had just told her. “Are you saying that it was Katie Ruth’s father who talked her out of treatment, and not Ezekiel?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
But that didn’t make any sense, not to Edna. “Everyone claims it’s the other way around,” she said, more to herself than to Barbara.
“Hmph. I’m hardly surprised. And Ezekiel’s too righteous a man to speak up for himself, while the bishop refuses to speak about it at all.” Barbara shook her head, a look of disgust etched upon her face. “I only know because my husband was called there to help just before Katie Ruth died.”
Edna hardly heard another word from Barbara’s mouth. She’d switched topics and begun talking about the success of the MayFest table.
But Edna wasn’t listening. Instead, she thought about this new bit of news she had just learned. If what Barbara was saying was true, perhaps everyone had gotten the story wrong from the beginning! She could hardly wait to get to Verna’s. Even if she didn’t want to discuss this anymore, Verna had to learn that what they originally tho
ught about Ezekiel might have been one big terrible lie after all.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Verna was outside in the garden, pulling at the newly sprouted weeds, when she heard the buggy pull up. Wiping her hands on her apron, she struggled to get to her feet. Her knees ached and her ankles were sore from having spent almost two hours weeding the garden.
When she realized that it was Edna, Verna gave a satisfied sigh. The perfect excuse to take a break from one of her least favorite chores, she thought as she walked over to greet her friend.
Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the noon sun, Verna met Edna just as she stopped the horse and buggy near the barn. “What brings you here again so soon?”
“I was at Yoders’,” she explained. “Picking up some things for next week’s dinner guests.”
“Oh! Is that all starting again next week?” How time flew, she thought. It felt as if the season had just ended a few weeks ago.
Edna nodded. “But that’s not important right now. While I was there, I ran into Barbara Brenneman. She just told me something that I simply have to share with you.”
Verna made a face and rolled her eyes, feeling a bit indignant. Hadn’t she made it clear that she didn’t want to hear anything else about Ezekiel? “Oh, Edna. Not something more about Ezekiel. Please.”
“But this is different,” Edna urged. “It’s important.”
“Oh, fine then.” She knew that she had no choice but to relent—otherwise her own curiosity would get the best of her. Besides, she needed to know Edna’s news, just in case it impacted Myrna. “Tie up and come inside. I’ll warm some water for tea.”
No sooner had she walked into the kitchen and headed toward the cabinet where she kept her teakettle than she heard horse hooves yet again.
“Oh help! It’s a busy haus today, I suppose,” she said to herself. She glanced out the window and, to her surprise, saw it was her husband’s buggy. But it wasn’t Simon driving. It was Timothy.
In all the years that Samuel and Timothy had worked at the store, not once had either one come home in the middle of the day. Surely, something terrible must have happened.
Panic-stricken, she hurried outside and practically bumped into her son as he bounded up the stairs.
“What’s wrong, Timothy? Has something happened?”
“It’s Myrna. She needs you at Ezekiel’s.”
Verna gasped. “Myrna? What’s wrong?”
Timothy put his hands on his mother’s arms and peered into her face. “She’s fine, Maem. Don’t panic. But the little one—”
“Katie?”
He nodded. “Ja, that’s the one. Her fever hasn’t broken, and Myrna asks that you come. She told me that you should stop for medicine to help the boppli’s fever.”
“Oh help,” she muttered. The last thing she wanted was to interfere again between Ezekiel and Myrna. But she also knew that if Myrna had reached out for help, she couldn’t say no.
“You can drop me off at the store and take the buggy, if you want.”
But Edna appeared behind Timothy. “Nee, that’s okay. I’ll take you, Verna.” She motioned toward her buggy. “It’s already hitched, and we can stop at the pharmacy on the way to buy fever reducer.”
“I could use the company,” Verna admitted. “And the support. I have a feeling that both will be needed when we arrive.”
* * *
“You called your maem?”
Ezekiel stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips as he assessed the scene before him. He’d walked in, probably after seeing the buggy parked in the driveway. When he stood in the doorway, he stared first at Verna, holding the baby against her chest, and then at Myrna. Verna’s heart pounded.
Clearly, he wasn’t happy.
Myrna took a deep breath and faced him. Verna knew that her daughter had never been one to shirk her responsibilities, nor to deny her own transgressions. She knew that Myrna would take ownership of what she had done.
“Ja, I did, Ezekiel.”
“When?”
“An hour ago.” Myrna pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “I took Katie for a walk to the neighbors and borrowed their phone.”
He reached up and removed his hat. Setting it on the counter next to him, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, Myrna.”
“She brought medicine for the boppli.” Myrna straightened her shoulders. “She needs medicine, Ezekiel.” Myrna swallowed. “She probably needs a doctor, too.”
“A doctor?”
Myrna nodded. “Ja.”
“A doctor?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word.
“I know you won’t approve, but . . .”
Ezekiel held up his hand, cutting her off midsentence. “I wouldn’t approve?”
Verna moved forward, hoping to avoid a scene. Clearly this was not going well, but the focus needed to be on the baby, not on their differences.
“Ezekiel,” she said. “I brought her some medicine to take down her fever. She’s so hot. She needs something while her body fights whatever ailment she has. Please, may I give her the medicine?”
He met her gaze, a questioning look in his eyes. “May you give her the medicine?” Just as he had before, he repeated her words slowly before he answered with a soft, “Ja, of course.”
Verna didn’t wait another second. She nodded toward Edna, who withdrew the medicine from her purse. Carefully she opened the medicine and, using an eyedropper, measured out the correct dosage.
The sound of car tires on the gravel driveway could be heard. Verna didn’t look up. She put the eyedropper to the baby’s lips and gave her the medicine.
“Ezekiel?” a voice called.
“In here,” he answered.
A man walked into the kitchen. He wore khaki pants and a white button-down shirt. In his hand, he carried a brown leather bag.
Myrna looked at Ezekiel. “Who’s this?”
But it was Edna who answered Myrna’s question. “Dr. Graham!”
Verna held the baby in her arms, staring at the man, her mouth agape. “You know him?” she whispered to Edna. The last person she’d expected to see show up at Ezekiel’s was a doctor
“Ja, he’s the doctor who treated Elmer.” Edna smiled and walked over to shake his hand.
He smiled at her. “I trust Elmer is doing well? Staying away from sweets?”
“Only when I’m watching him,” she said. “He thinks I don’t know he sneaks cookies when I’m not looking.”
The doctor laughed. “Sounds like Elmer for sure!” After setting down his bag, the man moved toward Myrna, extending his hand. “You must be Myrna. Ezekiel called me to come see the baby. Said she’s been feverish and crying.” He approached Verna. “May I examine her, please?”
“Doctor?” Myrna’s mouth opened and her eyes widened. She turned toward Ezekiel. “You called a doctor?”
The doctor took the baby from Verna and held her gently in his arms. “Oh, Katie. How big you’ve grown since I last saw you!” He ran his finger along her cheek and rested his hand on her small forehead. Then he gestured toward his bag. “If you don’t mind?”
Verna picked it up and took it to him. “We didn’t know he’d called you. We just gave her some pain reliever, to fight the fever.”
The doctor nodded. “I’d have done the same.”
Carefully, the doctor carried the baby and his bag to the sofa. He sat down and laid Katie beside him. “I’m sure it’s nothing major, but one can never be too careful.”
Verna watched as the doctor examined the baby, keenly aware that Myrna was staring at Ezekiel. Too many unanswered questions lingered unspoken in the room. There would be time for asking them later. For now, the most important thing was that Katie get the medical treatment she needed.
Chapter Thirty-Three
An hour later, after the doctor left and Katie had been put to bed, Ezekiel stood in the kitchen, his eyes darting back and forth between the two older women and Myrna. No one spoke, and she fe
lt surrounded, not just by people but by her emotions. She didn’t understand what had just happened.
She’d never heard of hand, foot and mouth disease. But the doctor had told them it was very common, especially since babies didn’t have immunity to the virus. Chances were that she’d caught it from one of her older brothers, who might have picked it up from school.
But she’d be fine, the doctor had reassured Ezekiel. “Just keep giving her pain reliever and lots of fluids.” He had clapped Ezekiel on the arm as he started to leave. “I’ll check back on her in a few days, but this illness should just run its course.” And then he had left.
Now Myrna stood there, unable to process the conflicting emotions that coursed through her body.
Had Ezekiel called the doctor because he knew it would make her feel better? Or had he done it because it was the right thing to do?
Her thoughts were interrupted when Ezekiel shuffled his feet, his boots making a scraping noise against the hardwood floor. “Might I have a word with you, Myrna?” He glanced at her mother and Edna. “Uh . . . in private?” He gestured to the door. “Outside?”
Swallowing, Myrna nodded. She avoided looking at her mother and Edna, but she had to walk past them. Myrna knew that her cheeks burned red. She took a deep breath and walked toward Ezekiel.
He held the door open for her, and she brushed past him.
Outside on the porch, Myrna moved as far away from the door as possible. The last thing she wanted was for her mother or Edna to overhear their conversation. She was embarrassed enough as it was. She breathed in the fresh air, hoping that it would help to loosen her tight chest. Why was her heart pounding so rapidly?
“You want to talk here?” he asked, a confused look on his face. “We could walk a spell, if you’d prefer.”
But Myrna saw no point in that. “I don’t understand, Ezekiel. What just happened in there?”
“The doctor said she’d be fine,” he responded in a flat tone.
“I know that. I was standing right there!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I meant why did you call the doctor?”