Jonah’s horse trotted patiently through the downpour, not even flicking his ears at the rumbles of thunder.
“That was some storm that passed through earlier, wasn’t it?” Jonah asked.
Andrew stared at the horse, willing him to trot faster. “For sure it was.”
“Did you get any damage at your place?”
“I didn’t take the time to look. Once Rose said that Mari needed the doctor, I went straight to your house.”
“And we’ll get to Shipshewana as quickly as we can. The doctor has an automobile, so the trip home will be much faster.”
Andrew rubbed his cold arms. The temperature had dropped when the storm came through, and now it was chilly. “I’m just worried about Mari. You didn’t see how still she was. She’s very sick.”
“Children get sick. You know that. If Rose had been too worried, she would have had us take Mari to the doctor to save time.” Jonah pulled the horse to a halt at the intersection with the state highway and looked both ways before turning onto the paved road. “Mari is in good hands. Rose knows what she’s doing.”
“I wish I could be as certain as you are. I can’t bear the thought of losing her.”
Jonah grunted. “One of the benefits of growing older is that you have more experience trusting the Good Lord to take care of the things that are beyond your reach. You do your best but leave the outcome to the Lord.”
Andrew whooshed out a breath. “Do you think He knows how much Mari means to me?”
“Not only that, but that little girl means even more to Him. You need to trust that no matter what the outcome of this illness is, God cares.”
The rain let up a little as the thunder faded in the distance.
“Do you think He cared when my Lily passed away?”
Jonah studied his face. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
Andrew nodded. “I just can’t believe that God cares when he let Lily die. Why should I trust Him to keep Mari from dying, too?”
The horse’s hooves beat against the pavement in a steady rhythm while Jonah stared ahead.
“When my wife passed away, I had similar thoughts. I was afraid for my children, thinking that they might be taken from me, too.” Jonah’s voice broke and he cleared his throat before going on. “But then I met a man from Millersburg whose wife is dying of cancer. She was bedridden and in much pain. Horrible pain. This man cared for her every need, but it was so hard for him to watch her suffer. He asked me why the Good Lord saw fit to prolong her agony. Why she didn’t die so she could be free of the pain that is part of every single hour of her day.”
“What did you tell him?”
“God’s ways are not ours. Sometimes death comes quickly, almost easily. A sudden accident, or an illness that strikes quickly. Sometimes death is drawn out and painful. We can’t choose, and we can’t know why God chooses the way He does.” Jonah pulled the horse to a stop at the intersection in the middle of town. They were in Shipshewana. He turned to the right and drove past the grain elevator. “But we can trust that God’s ways are right.”
“So it isn’t any use to pray for God to spare Mari?”
Jonah turned onto a side street and stopped in front of the doctor’s house and office. He turned to Andrew before they went in. “God tells us to pray, and the Lord Jesus showed us how to pray. So we must pray always. I don’t know how God uses our prayers, but He does.”
Andrew climbed out of the buggy, almost afraid to ask the next question. “What if God’s answer to our prayer is ‘no’?”
“Then we trust that it is the right answer. The best answer,” Jonah said as they walked up the gravel walk to the front door. “And when we face hard times and hard decisions, He is right beside us, facing them with us.”
Jonah knocked on the door.
Once Dr. Hoover heard why they had come, he grabbed his hat and bag.
On the way out the door, he turned to Andrew. “You’ll ride with me, won’t you? We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Leaving Jonah to drive the buggy home, Andrew got into the car. He had never ridden in an automobile before, but he found that it wasn’t much different than riding on a train. Even so, it was the longest ten minutes he had ever experienced.
When they reached the farm, the doctor strode ahead of Andrew into the house, ignoring Jenny’s barking. Mari was still on her makeshift bed on the kitchen table and Rose and Bethany were sponging her with wet cloths.
The doctor took Mari’s temperature and looked at the thermometer with a grunt. He used a tiny light to look into Mari’s eyes, ears and down her throat. He listened to her chest with a stethoscope. Then he examined the rash that had spread across her face and body while Andrew had been away.
He looked at Bethany. “It is definitely measles. How long has she been ill?”
“We noticed the fever today, but she has been out of sorts since yesterday or the day before. I thought she might be coming down with something, but I hoped it was only the heat.”
The doctor nodded. “That sounds about right. It takes about three days for the rash to show, so she was probably already ill on Friday.” He felt Mari’s shoulders and elbows, then uncovered her and did the same to her knees and feet. “How long has she been asleep like this?”
“All afternoon,” Rose said. “Her fever rose, and we couldn’t get her to wake up. That’s why we sent Andrew to get you.”
“You did the right thing.” The doctor put his equipment back in his bag but handed the thermometer to Bethany. “Now, Mother, you must take her temperature every hour, just like you saw me do. If it goes much above one hundred four degrees, send someone for me right away. It is right at that temperature now. Continue what you’ve been doing to reduce her fever and keep her comfortable. When she wakes up, give her some cool beef or chicken broth and let her drink as much water as she desires. You should begin to see some improvement in a day or two but keep her inside until the spots are gone.” He zipped up his bag. “And keep her from coming into contact with anyone who has never had the measles until then. We don’t want this to spread any further.”
Andrew met Bethany’s eyes and nodded. She had insisted that she keep Mari home from church yesterday, and he was glad he had listened to her.
As he walked with the doctor out to his car, the clouds were clearing away and the sun was setting in a wash of orange and pink.
“Thank you for coming. I know I need to pay you, but...”
The doctor grasped Andrew’s shoulder. “I know. No one has any money. You recently moved here from Iowa, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?”
Dr. Hoover chuckled. “I hear things. I was called to the Smith house a few days ago to look at their boy. He has measles, too. Mr. Smith was telling me how he gave you one of his dogs.”
“Do you really think Mari is going to be all right?”
“Don’t worry, son. As long as the fever stays down, she’ll be fine.”
“How can I pay you?”
The doctor rubbed his chin. “Folks have been paying me in food, since no one has cash, but our larder is about full. I need new posts on my porch, though. The old ones are about rotted through. Can you do that kind of carpentry work?”
“For sure I can. Will that be a fair trade, though?”
“I’m satisfied if you are.” The doctor shook Andrew’s hand. “Whenever you can get to it, but I’d like it done before the end of the summer.”
Andrew nodded. “It will be done before the end of the summer.”
He waved as the doctor drove away, and then leaned down to scratch Jenny’s ears. “Why didn’t you bark at him that time? Because you knew he was leaving?”
Jenny grinned at him, her tail wagging.
In spite of the doctor’s encouraging words, Mari’s fever remained high. Andrew had carried his daughter back to her own bedroom, and Bethany prepared to spend the night watching over her. She brought her rocking chair from her room and set the doctor’s thermometer on the small table beside the bed, along with a glass of water. The ever-present basin and towels were at her feet, ready for the constant bathing to keep Mari’s temperature from going too high.
Andrew came into Mari’s room with Bethany’s supper of cottage cheese and canned peaches in a bowl.
“Rose went to bed right after she finished her supper,” he said, sitting on the edge of Mari’s bed across from her. “She said to call her if you can’t stay awake.”
Bethany shook her head. “Rose will take her turn tomorrow while I sleep. She needs to get as much rest as she can.” Andrew’s face was sculpted with lines of worry. “You need to get some rest, too. Morning will be here before you know it.”
“I can’t sleep. Not until she wakes up. I don’t like to see her like this.”
“The doctor didn’t seem too worried.”
“He was worried enough.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you taken her temperature? Is she all right?”
“I was going to take it at ten o’clock.” Bethany pointed to the clock she had set on the table next to the water glass. “She doesn’t feel any warmer to me, but I thought I’d check it every hour.”
Andrew sighed. “Hand me one of those towels. I can help you as long as I’m here.”
Bethany wrung out a fresh towel and handed it to him, then folded a second one and laid it across Mari’s forehead. She ate her supper, then sponged Mari’s chest and arms. The towels dried quickly in the heat from Mari’s body. She and Andrew worked together without talking. After the long and exhausting day, Bethany didn’t have the energy to do more than refresh the towels, one after another.
When the little alarm clock said ten, Bethany took the thermometer and shook the mercury down the way the doctor had shown her. Then she slipped the glass tube under Mari’s tongue and waited while the clock ticked. Andrew watched the mercury in the thermometer, as if it could tell him if Mari was well or not.
“You have to wait for three minutes. If you look before then, the reading won’t be accurate.”
“I know.” Andrew ran his hand through his hair. “I heard the doctor, too. How long has it been?”
Bethany glanced at the clock. “One minute.”
The seconds ticked by.
“I don’t know what I would do if she doesn’t pull through this.” Andrew’s voice was almost a whisper.
“She will. You have to believe that. Everything will be all right.”
“It doesn’t always turn out that way.” Andrew got up and walked over to the window, leaning against the frame as he took a deep breath. “You know that as well as I do. People die.”
“But that doesn’t mean we give up.”
He turned toward her, his face shadowed. “I’ll never give up.” He sat down again. “How long has it been?”
“Almost three minutes.” Bethany waited while the seconds passed, then held the thermometer to the light. “It has gone down a little bit. It’s just above one hundred three degrees.”
“That’s good?”
Bethany couldn’t keep from smiling. “That’s wonderful.” She put a fresh towel on Mari’s forehead. “Now you should get some sleep. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
“Whether the news is good or bad?”
She nodded. “Either way.”
“All right. But don’t forget.”
“I won’t forget.”
She listened to his quiet footsteps as he went into his room and closed the door. Now that she was alone with Mari, she could let the tears fall that she had held in all afternoon. They trickled down her cheeks as she sponged the little girl’s stomach, which was bright red with spots. The tears dripped off her chin as she laid a damp towel on Mari’s forearm to cool her hot, dry skin. She blew her nose, then replaced the damp cloth on Mari’s chest.
Over and over, she freshened the towels. Once she had to take the basin down to the kitchen to refill it, and she hurried back up the steps, not wanting to leave Mari alone for longer than she needed to. When she took Mari’s temperature at eleven o’clock, the thermometer read one hundred four degrees again.
Bethany freshened the wet towels on Mari’s forehead and chest, then walked to the window, trying to stay awake. Would Mari survive? Measles could be deadly, and she was so young. Her small body was burning up with the fever, no matter how often Bethany bathed her.
What would happen if they lost Mari?
Bethany shook her head, not wanting to consider the possibility. She loved the little girl so much that the strength of her feelings surprised her. Every day was a joy only because Mari was part of it. She couldn’t imagine never seeing Mari’s bright smile again, never looking into her deep blue eyes. The pain of losing her would be unbearable.
But an additional worry thudded against her consciousness like a loose shutter swinging in the wind. Andrew had only married her to provide a mother for his daughter. It was a convenient arrangement made only for Mari’s sake. If she was no longer here, what would happen to their marriage? Andrew could quickly resent being tied to Bethany for the rest of his life. What if he fell in love with someone else? It didn’t matter. They were married, and nothing could change that, short of abandoning their faith and the church.
Bethany closed the window blinds. Lack of sleep and fear for Mari had turned her thoughts in directions she didn’t want to follow. Mari would recover. She had to recover.
At midnight, Bethany took Mari’s temperature once more. It was slightly above 104 degrees, continuing to climb. She freshened the damp towels once more. The air in the room was oppressive and Mari grew restless, pushing the covers away in her sleep, and her face shone with perspiration.
A little later, Mari opened her eyes. “Mamma?”
“I’m here.”
“I don’t feel good.”
“I know. Do you want me to hold you?”
Mari shook her head. “I’m too hot.” She pushed at the covers.
“Do you want a drink?”
When Mari nodded, Bethany helped her sit up, holding the glass of water as Mari took a sip and swallowed. “It hurts.”
As Bethany helped her settle back down on the bed again, she felt Mari’s cheek with the back of her hand. It felt cooler. Or perhaps she was only imagining it. It was nearly one o’clock, so she took Mari’s temperature. The thermometer read just under 102 degrees. Could she dare hope that her fever had broken?
Andrew came in the room as Mari’s eyes closed again. “I heard voices. Is she all right?”
“She woke up for a few minutes, and her temperature is going down. Do you think we might be over the worst of it?”
As Andrew felt Mari’s forehead, she opened her eyes again. When she saw her daed, she smiled.
“Are you feeling better, little one?”
“It hurts when I drink.”
“I know. But you still need to drink some water.” Andrew helped her take another sip.
When he laid her back on the bed, Mari pushed her damp hair out of her face. “I’m hot.”
Andrew looked at Bethany. “Do we dare open a window? It’s very hot and stuffy in here, even with the door open.”
When she nodded her agreement, he lifted one of the blinds and opened the window a few inches. The air that came in was cool and refreshing. Mari’s eyes closed once more, and Bethany covered her with a sheet, but the little girl stirred and reached for her.
Taking her in her arms, Bethany sat on the rocking chair. As Mari relaxed, Bethany put her feet up on the bed and sighed.
Andrew leaned down and kissed the top of Mari’s head. “Maybe her fever has broken. Now we just need for her to get better.”
Bethany smoothed a stray curl away from Mari’s face, then looked at Andrew. His face was only inches from hers as he bent over his daughter. He was a good father, gentle and caring, and he loved Mari so much.
When he stood up, he glanced at her. “What are you thinking about?”
Andrew’s eyes were as dark as Mari’s in the shadowed room. “I’m thinking how wonderful it will be when she is healthy again.”
He smiled at her. “For sure, it will be wonderful-gut.” He gazed at Mari. “You’re a good mother, Bethany. We are blessed to have you.”
As Andrew went back to his room, Bethany shifted Mari into a more comfortable position and let her eyes drift closed, listening to the little girl’s deep, even breathing.
When Andrew reached his room, he sat in the chair by the window, the same spot he had occupied all night. He had spent the long hours staring at the moonlit yard, praying for his daughter. And now that she seemed to be getting better, he didn’t know what to do. Keep praying? Was her lowered fever a false hope? What would the morning bring?
He stared at the moon. Just past full, it illuminated the barnyard with a silvery light. All through the night he had watched the shadows move across the yard, unable to sleep while Mari was so sick. He had to be strong in front of Bethany and Rose, but deep inside was a dark hole of fear. Fear that Mari would disappear from his life as quickly as Lily had. Death. Life. It made no sense. What purpose was there in a little girl’s illness?
Burying his face in his hands, he felt the weariness of the day bearing down on his shoulders. He should lie down on his bed. Try to get some sleep before morning came. Rest, in case he needed to make the trip to fetch the doctor again. His eyes burned, and his joints ached. He never thought he could be this tired, but he was unable to let go of the worry that consumed him.
What had Jonah said? He needed to trust that the Good Lord’s ways were right. His head pounded. How could God’s ways be right when a baby’s life was hanging in the balance?
At least he had Bethany. When he had heard voices from Mari’s room, he had feared the worst, but then he found Bethany calmly talking to his daughter, reassuring her, helping her find some way to be comfortable. Bethany might not have given birth to Mari, but she loved her and cared for her as if she had.
And that was the problem. As much as Andrew appreciated Bethany, he couldn’t stop thinking that it was wrong. Lily should be the one to be here with Mari. Lily should be the one comforting her in her illness. Was it God’s will that Lily’s daughter should be raised by a stranger?
Jonah’s words took on the rhythm of a trotting horse’s hoof beats—God’s ways aren’t our ways. God’s ways aren’t our ways...
Catching himself as he nearly fell off his chair, he stumbled to his bed and let sleep finally overtake him. At least for a few hours.
When morning brought the first gray light before dawn, Andrew woke. His eyes were gritty, as if he had been swimming in a murky lake. He poured water into his washbasin and splashed it on his face, rubbing his eyes. He opened his bedroom door quietly, but all he heard was the early morning chorus of birdcalls.
He looked in Mari’s room. Bethany was still sitting in the rocking chair, Mari in her arms. His daughter breathed deeply and calmly, untroubled in her sleep, and Bethany looked just as peaceful. He stepped closer and felt Mari’s forehead. It was cool and dry.
Smiling, he went down the stairs as quietly as he could. It looked like the crisis was over. He pulled on his boots and went out to the barn to do his chores. Jenny ran up, running in circles around him. He scratched her ears and walked toward the barn, taking stock of the blown-down limbs and other debris left by yesterday’s storm. He would have to clean this up this afternoon, after putting in a full day’s work in the fields.
Breakfast was quiet. Rose had fixed toast and fried eggs, and was making a soupy combination of bread, hot milk and eggs for Mari.
“What is that?” Andrew asked.
“It’s my own special recipe. Now that Mari’s fever is gone, she’ll need to gain strength,” Rose said, sweetening the dish with sugar.
“The doctor said she should have broth.” Andrew spread strawberry jam on his toast. “Shouldn’t we follow his advice?”
Rose waved away his suggestion. “What does that doctor know about taking care of sick children? This dish will go down as well as broth, and it has more substance.”
Andrew watched her sprinkle nutmeg on top of the dish. He had to admit that it looked and smelled delicious, almost like a bread pudding.
Bethany came down to join him after Rose had gone upstairs.
He grinned at her as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Did you end up with a stiff neck this morning after sitting up all night?”
Bethany cracked two eggs into the skillet on the stove. “I’m stiff, for sure, but it doesn’t bother me. I fell asleep sometime during the night, after Mari’s fever started going down. How about you?”
Andrew nodded. “The same. It was a relief to see her sleeping quietly this morning.” He finished his toast. “Will you be able to get more rest today while Rose sits with Mari?”
“I hope so. There is so much work to be done, but Mari comes first. I’ll take a nap this afternoon.” Bethany turned over her eggs and started toasting a slice of bread. “If you get a chance, would you go over to Daed’s house for me? There’s a Bible storybook that I’d like to read to Mari to keep her occupied when she’s awake. It’s going to be hard to keep her in bed once she starts feeling better.”
“For sure, I will. I’ll go now before I start plowing. Jonah will want to know how Mari is doing.”
Whistling for Jenny to come with him, Andrew headed to Jonah’s farm as soon as he finished eating. He found the older man in the barn, supervising John and James as they harnessed the team of workhorses.
“How is Mari?” Jonah asked, as soon as he saw him. He ruffled Jenny’s ears.
“Her fever is down and she’s sleeping. It looks like the worst has passed.”
“We can thank the Good Lord for that.”
Andrew kicked at a stone embedded in the barn’s dirt floor. With all his praying last night, begging God to spare Mari, he hadn’t thought once about giving thanks for His mercy.
“Bethany sent me over to borrow a storybook that she wants to read to Mari to keep her occupied.”
“I know which one you mean. It’s Bethany’s favorite. I’ll get it as soon as these boys head out to the field.” Jonah helped the boys hitch the horses to the harrow and watched them drive out to the cornfield. “Sometimes I can’t believe those two are old enough to do farm work, but they are.” He chuckled. “I guess I feel old when I notice how big they’re getting.”
As they walked toward the house, Jonah matched his stride to Andrew’s. “How is Bethany? She must have been pretty worried about Mari last night.”
“She’s fine. You would think that she’s Mari’s natural mother.” Andrew winced at the bitterness that crept into his voice.
“What is wrong with that? Isn’t that what you want for Mari?” Jonah stopped on the porch and faced him.
Andrew shrugged. How could he express what he felt?
“I suppose I missed Lily even more last night than usual. I kept thinking that if Mari...if Mari didn’t make it through this illness, I would have nothing left of Lily. She would be gone forever.”
Jonah narrowed his eyes, then opened the kitchen door. “Come in and have some coffee.”
Andrew sat at the table, ignoring the coffee Jonah poured for him.
“Is it wrong to miss my wife?”
“Not at all,” Jonah said. He poured enough cream into his coffee to turn it nearly white. “When we marry, we expect that it will be for life. When something happens to cut that time short, it’s hard for the one left behind.”
“Even after you’ve been married for many years?”
“Sarah and I had been married for twenty-two years when she passed away.” Jonah sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “That might seem like a long time to you, but to me it isn’t long at all. It feels like we had just begun our lives together when she was taken from me.”
“So you know how I feel. Lily is still so much a part of me, I don’t know if...” He stopped. He didn’t want to admit to Bethany’s father that he didn’t love her and wouldn’t ever love her.
Jonah stared at his coffee for a long minute. “I know you and my daughter didn’t love each other when you married. And it sounds like you haven’t found a way for it to grow yet.”
“How can I love her when I still love Lily?”
“Love isn’t a feeling. It’s a decision. A choice you make.”
Andrew almost laughed. “What do you mean? Love is all about feelings.”
“Ja, for sure, we feel love.” Jonah stroked his beard. “But there are times when it’s hard. Love is work when your wife burns your dinner and you have to eat only bread and butter. Or when she gets angry because you’ve tracked muddy boots across the kitchen floor. Or when you get tired of her talking to you when you’re trying to go to sleep.”
Andrew smiled. He remembered going through those times with Lily, but he still loved her.
“Those are the times when we need to decide to love our wives, and they must decide to love us. That’s why love isn’t a feeling. Feelings disappear when troubles come but love never fails.”
“Are you telling me that I need to decide to stop loving Lily?”
“I can’t do that. I still love Sarah, and I always will. But my love for her has changed. I love the life we had together, and I love the memories of her that I hold close. But those things are in the past. I can’t hold on to that love the same way I did when she was with me. I need to live my life. I need to let her go so I can reach forward to what God has for me now.”
Andrew took a sip of his coffee.
“You’ll always have your memories of Lily, even after Mari has grown and set up housekeeping with her own husband. But you can’t let those memories keep you from appreciating and loving the new wife the Good Lord has seen fit to give you.” Jonah drained his cup. “Let’s go find that book.”