The Amish Nurse's Suitor (Amish 0f Serenity Ridge Book 2)

by Carrie Lighte

  Rachel,

  Mamm and I are expecting visitors this afternoon or I would have kumme to see you and Ivan myself. We are praying for you both.

  Grace

  “Oh, that’s so thoughtful. These are Ivan’s favorite, but it feels like there are plenty in here. Would you like one?” After experiencing such an enjoyable time with Arden at supper the previous night, Rachel didn’t hesitate to invite him to share dessert this afternoon.

  “Jah, please. When I asked if I could have one at home, Grace refused. Apparently, whoopie pies are only for people with pneu-pneumon-pneumonia,” Arden complained as he lowered himself onto the bench. “Or for p-people taking care of p-people with pneumonia.”

  “Neh, they’re also for people visiting people taking care of people with pneumonia,” Rachel said with a giggle.

  A few minutes later as they were indulging in the treats and tea, another buggy pulled into the driveway. Upon seeing it was Hadassah, Rachel nearly fell off the porch swing. Maybe she’s had a change of heart!

  Smiling, Rachel waved as Arden hurried to help her sister-in-law from the buggy. Two of the children scrambled down in front of her. Hadassah’s pregnant belly seemed to have grown impossibly larger in the past few days.

  Aware questions about her sister-in-law’s health would be unwelcome, Rachel greeted her by saying, “Hello, Hadassah. It’s so nice to see you.” Then she bent to speak to the children. “Hello again, Thomas. And you must be Sarah. Your onkel Ivan wrote to me about you. I’m your ant Rachel.”

  Without responding, Thomas took off to chase a squirrel across the yard, but to Rachel’s amazement, Sarah said, “Hello, Ant Rachel,” and then joined her brother. Rachel couldn’t help but notice the girl looked more like Rachel than like Hadassah—with one unfortunate difference; Sarah’s nose was running. In fact, Thomas had a runny nose, too. The nurse in Rachel wondered how long they’d been ill.

  Without acknowledging Rachel’s greeting, Hadassah said, “The kinner want to see their onkel. Is he inside?”

  “Jah, but he’s sleeping.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve kumme all this way. Thomas and Sarah can play in the yard until he wakes. I’ll sit beneath the peach tree.” She began plodding across the sodden ground.

  “You’re wilkom to join us on the porch, Hadassah,” Rachel called after her. “But I’m afraid today isn’t a gut day for you and the kinner to visit Ivan. It seems Sarah and Thomas have colds, and we don’t want to jeopardize Ivan’s recovery.”

  Hadassah slowly pivoted toward the house, her features contorted into a scowl. Breathing heavily, she approached the porch and shook her pointer finger at Rachel. “It’s one thing for you to believe you’re superior to the Amish. But how can you can be so puffed up as to think you know more about health care than the Englisch? Not one of those nurses in the hospital ever prohibited me from seeing Ivan, and I’m not going to let you stop me, either!”

  As peeved as Hadassah’s remarks made her, Rachel had enough experience dealing with patients’ families to respond calmly. “If the nurses in the hospital saw Sarah and Thomas today, they wouldn’t allow them to visit Ivan, either. He simply can’t be exposed to any infections right now. Even a common cold could wreak havoc on his immune system, because it’s already severely compromised.”

  “My kinner do not have colds. They have allergies.”

  “Neh, they have colds. Their mucus is not running clear—”

  “Absatz! I don’t want to hear you describe such a thing to me. Even if you’re right—which you are not—I do not have a cold and I’m going to see Ivan.” Her face and neck were crimson as she set one foot on the bottom stair.

  “You may not have a cold yet, but you’ve been in close contact with least two kinner who do.” Rachel planted herself in front of the doorway. “We must guard Ivan’s health. And I hope you’ll guard your own health, too, because you don’t want to kumme down with something this late in your pregnancy. I appreciate what an effort it was for you to kumme here, and I’d wilkom your company here on the porch. How about if I bring you and the kinner some refreshments?”

  Without answering her, Hadassah questioned Arden, “Do you hear how she’s speaking to me?”

  “I think Rachel’s right, Hadassah,” Arden replied. “Please don’t get so worked up about it, though. As soon as the kinner are over their colds, you can visit.”

  “Pah!” Hadassah puffed. She leaned on her knee with one hand and used the other to point at Arden this time. “Colin warned me about you two. I believed what he said about Rachel, but I didn’t want to believe him about you, Arden. You’d better be careful cozying up to an Englischer. It wouldn’t sit right with the bishop.”

  As she trudged away, Arden scurried down the porch steps, offering, “Let me help you into the buggy, Hadassah,” but she batted at his hand. Instead she leaned on the shoulders of her children, who teetered beneath her weight.

  So much for the community helping me, Rachel lamented to herself. I’ll be fortunate if I’m not ousted from Serenity Ridge altogether once Hadassah and Colin are done wagging their chins about me.

  Chapter Seven

  After Hadassah’s buggy rolled down the driveway, Arden went to bid Rachel goodbye, but she’d gone into the house, undoubtedly to tend to Ivan.

  On his way home, he wondered, Why wouldn’t Colin accompany his wife to his bruder’s haus when she obviously has a difficult time with mobility? What could possibly be more important than seeing to Hadassah’s comfort and safety? Deep down, Arden suspected Colin was deliberately slighting Rachel—at his wife’s expense—as a demonstration of his anger. He could only imagine how much angrier Colin would be once Hadassah told him Rachel had turned her away and Arden had defended Rachel’s decision.

  Their behavior is unfair. I’m the one who should go to the bishop about them, Arden thought. I’d be perfectly justified. But he wouldn’t do that, because while the Bible said God required His people to “do justly,” it also instructed them to love mercy. Besides, Arden was confident he’d done nothing wrong, so he wasn’t overly concerned about what Colin or Hadassah might say if they actually did report him to the bishop. Still, Arden decided, for Ivan’s sake, he ought to tread carefully. For Rachel’s sake, too. There was already enough tension between the Blank family members; he didn’t want to add to it by appearing to side with Rachel. Hadassah and Colin could make her time in Serenity Ridge very unpleasant, and Arden didn’t want her being squeezed out before Ivan was better. The very fact that Hadassah had brought sick children to visit their uncle showed just how much Ivan needed someone like Rachel there, advocating for his health. The less time I spend with her outside the workshop, the better it will be for everyone, Arden concluded.

  When he arrived home, Arden was dismayed to find Ike and Eva Renno, whose buggy he’d passed on the road as he set out to deliver the whoopie pies, were seated in the double wooden glider on the porch. Although Arden liked Ike and Eva was a nice enough person, she was as chatty as Arden was reserved, and his head throbbed whenever he spent more than fifteen minutes in her presence.

  “Mamm went inside to nap. She said she couldn’t think of a better way for any mamm to celebrate Mother’s Day,” Grace informed him when he hopped up the steps. Because Mother’s Day fell on the Sabbath, the Amish in Serenity Ridge didn’t make a fuss over it, although Arden and Grace had gifted their mother with a subscription to her favorite publication, The Connection, which was published out of Indiana and included articles written by Amish people throughout the country. “I made iced tea. Kumme join our discussion.”

  “I’ve, uh, already had tea,” Arden hedged.

  “Oh, were you out visiting someone special?” Eva questioned.

  Arden could have kicked himself for letting that slip. “On second thought, I’m kind of hot. I would like a glass, please.”

  “Were you visiting someone spec
ial?” Eva repeated.

  “I, uh, stopped by Ivan’s haus.”

  “Ivan’s haus? I heard his Englisch schweschder is staying there.”

  I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. Holding out his hand to take the glass from his sister, Arden replied noncommittally, “Jah, that’s correct.”

  “Sit down,” Grace insisted and waited for Arden to take a seat before giving him the iced tea. “How was Ivan?”

  “He was asleep again, so I didn’t get to speak to him. Rachel said he had a restless night—he was coughing a lot.”

  “Oh, the poor dear. I have a tried-and-true honey-cider cough remedy I could bring him, don’t I, Ike? Remember when I gave it to you last October when you were sick with bronchitis?” Eva didn’t wait for her husband to reply before resuming her earlier train of thought. “Maybe I shouldn’t bother bringing it to Ivan, though. Hadassah said the Englisch schweschder has taken control of his health—in addition to his haus and his business, but I don’t have to tell you that, do I, Arden?—so I don’t know if my gesture would be wilkom.”

  Arden felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and he reminded himself it was better to say nothing; that way, his comments couldn’t be misinterpreted.

  Grace, however, piped up, “I’m sure Rachel would appreciate an act of kindness from someone in our community. She might be pleased to receive visitors, too, provided they don’t overstay their wilkom.”

  There was no mistaking the implication in Grace’s remark, but it seemed lost on Eva. “To be frank, I don’t know if I want to visit Ivan while the schweschder is there. Hadassah said she’s been flaunting her Englisch ways in front of her familye. Showing up at Hadassah’s haus uninvited in her car, or wearing inappropriate hairstyles and clothing in front of her dochdere, that kind of thing. I don’t want her pushing her lifestyle on me like that.”

  Arden could no longer censor himself. “I’ve been w-working with Rachel at the shop, and she never w-wears or does anything in-in-inappropriate. Jah, she’s Englisch, but she’s also very m-modest.”

  Eva raised an eyebrow. “You find her becoming, don’t you?”

  How could she twist my words like that? No matter how he replied, Arden figured he’d incriminate himself, so he refused to say another word. Grace, on the other hand, let loose.

  “Jah, Rachel is very fetching, and she’s very schmaert, too. More importantly, she’s extremely helpful,” she said. “She helped Mamm when she was experiencing new lupus symptoms, and she told us about as many alternative forms of treatment as Englisch ones. So if that’s your concern about sharing your remedy, you have nothing to worry about. She demonstrates every bit as much respect toward the Amish as the Amish demonstrate toward her.”

  Although Arden wholeheartedly agreed with Grace’s characterization of Rachel, he was concerned if her comments got back to Hadassah, they’d make things worse. Fortunately, once again his sister’s words seemed to go right over Eva’s head; she’d turned her attention to swatting at a bee.

  “Ike! It’s going to sting me,” she whined, flapping her hands about her ears. Her husband jumped to his feet and fanned his hat through the air.

  Arden took advantage of their alarm to change the subject. “Guess what I saw yesterday? A moose!”

  Eva immediately stopped flailing to inform everyone moose had been spotted in the deacon’s yard, on the Christmas tree farm and at the lake, as well. Arden asked enough questions to keep her talking on the subject for half an hour until another bee chased her from her chair and her husband suggested they’d better be on their way.

  * * *

  As she lay in bed on Sunday evening, Rachel reflected on Hadassah’s earlier remarks. She vacillated between feeling utterly incensed and being racked with guilt. On one hand, her sister-in-law had been completely out of line to speak to her as she did. Couldn’t Hadassah see Rachel’s refusal to allow her to visit Ivan wasn’t personal? She was only looking out for her brother’s best interests.

  Yet, having witnessed how labored Hadassah’s breathing was and having watched her struggling to walk even a short distance, Rachel was worried about her sister-in-law’s health, too. It wasn’t good for her to get so upset. As necessary as it was to keep Hadassah from seeing Ivan, Rachel regretted having caused her distress, especially when she belatedly realized today was Mother’s Day. Knowing Colin, Rachel doubted he’d given Hadassah a card or even verbally acknowledged her devotion to their children, so she was probably in need of encouragement.

  Even so, why should I be the one lying here feeling sorry for upsetting her? I doubt she feels guilty for hurting my feelings by announcing my own bruder warned her about me. Actually, Hadassah had said Colin had warned her about them—meaning both Rachel and Arden. Rachel didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she had an inkling. And if Colin and Hadassah really did go to the bishop with their grievances, who would the bishop be more likely to believe—an Englischer who abandoned her community or an Amish couple who’d lived in Serenity Ridge since they were kinner? Rachel didn’t want to find out. Nor did she want to put Arden in the position of having to defend himself.

  My main objective is to help Ivan with his business and his recovery. I’m only here temporarily, she reminded herself. Long after she returned to Boston, the others would still be working and living in Serenity Ridge. It was important to Rachel that their long-term relationships with each other didn’t suffer because of her short-term presence among them now. For that reason, she decided she’d try to do whatever she could to prevent and ease any discord between them. I should distance myself from Arden whenever possible, too, so no one else can accuse him of “cozying up to an Englischer.”

  Yet the idea of giving up her budding friendship with Arden made her so resentful Rachel rolled out of bed and knelt beside it in prayer. Dear Gott, I want You to use me to reflect Your love, but I don’t feel very loving at the moment. Please change my heart and give me strength. Upon hearing Ivan’s coughing downstairs, she added, And please give Ivan strength, too.

  But the next morning, Rachel’s brother seemed even weaker than he’d been on Sunday, and despite his objections, she refused to go to the shop to work. Instead, she decided she’d gather whatever paperwork she needed and bring it back to the house, where she’d also field customer calls while keeping an eye on Ivan. When she scurried to the workshop to tell Arden her plan, he barely glanced up from the tiny structure he was building.

  “What’s that, a dollhouse to go inside Mrs. McGregor’s playhouse?” she joshed.

  “It’s a doghouse,” he replied flatly and then resumed hammering.

  Rachel squinted at him, wondering if he’d simply gotten up on the wrong side of the bed or if something else had gone awry. Was it possible Colin and Hadassah had already filled the bishop’s ear with their tales about him and her? “Is everything all right?”

  “Jah, just busy,” he mumbled and drove another nail into a joist. Rachel waited for him to stop hammering.

  “Then you won’t like what I have to tell you. I have to work up at the haus today because I don’t want to leave Ivan alone. I’m afraid of what might happen if he gets out of bed by himself. His legs are still a bit rickety. One gut spring breeze and he’d collapse like a haus of cards.” Rachel tittered nervously.

  “There’s no need for you to be here today anyway, so that’s fine.”

  Keeping my distance from him isn’t going to be such a loss after all, Rachel thought as she collected what she needed from the desk and returned to the house.

  But by the end of the day, she almost would have preferred Arden’s grouchy company to no company at all, since Ivan slept most of the day. Although she was aware his recovery would be slow, Rachel fretted over her brother’s condition, second-guessing whether he’d been released from the hospital too soon. On Tuesday morning, however, he awoke looking bright-eyed and declaring how hungry he was
. She settled him into a chair at the kitchen table and poured them each a cup of coffee.

  “I’ll make oier and pannekuche,” she offered, retrieving eggs from the fridge and a mixing bowl from the cupboard.

  Ivan said something that sounded like, “Don brfr,” and she twirled around to catch him with a mouthful of the whoopie pie he must have taken from the container on the table. He swallowed before repeating, “Don’t bother. I’ll just have one of these.” When he smiled at her, his teeth were comically blackened from the dark cake, and she laughed so hard she dropped into a chair opposite him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, so she took a whoopie pie for herself, bit into it and then grinned back at him. They both cracked up until she begged him to stop because she was afraid he’d lose his breath and wind up back in the hospital.

  “Nonsense,” he said. “I haven’t felt this gut in weeks.”

  Circling the table, Rachel wrapped her arms around his scrawny shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “Neither have I.”

  “You ought to go back to the workshop,” he told her when she released him.

  “Neh. Maybe tomorrow, if you keep improving.”

  “Arden probably needs your help today more than I do.”

  Rachel hesitated. Arden had likely finished the doghouse by now, and it would need to be painted. “Let’s compromise. At lunchtime, I’ll send Arden here to visit you during his break, and I’ll go get a few things done in the shop.”

  When she trekked to the workshop shortly before one o’clock, Rachel spotted Arden in the driveway talking to an Englischer she assumed was a customer, so she went inside and set the folders she’d been carrying on the desk. The business phone buzzed, and as she reached for it, she accidentally knocked a file to the floor, scattering invoices everywhere.

  “Hi, Rach. It’s me, Meg. I know this is your business phone, but—”

  Her heart leaped to her throat. “Did I get into the MSN program?”