Arriving at the Fishers’ haus, Leah drove her horse close to the barn. She had no idea how long she’d be here, but he’d need shelter. As she climbed from her carriage, Enos burst from the back door and loped across the yard.
“We were waiting for you,” he said. “I’ll take care of your horse so you can care for Hannah, but first let me carry in your bag.” He lifted the heavy bag from the front seat.
“Danke.” Leah rushed to keep pace with his swift steps. When she held the bag, she staggered, but Enos lifted the tote full of supplies as easily as he hefted bales of hay.
Along with phones, Sharon had insisted they both have bags with all the necessary supplies for a delivery. Leah was grateful she’d agreed. Neither of them had anticipated her doing a delivery alone, though. At that thought, the lukewarm oatmeal she’d gulped down earlier turned into a hard ball of fear in her stomach. She prayed Sharon or Dr. Hess would arrive before the baby did.
They reached the back porch, and she sucked in some air. The frigid wind needled her lungs, but she managed to push out a question between short, sharp breaths. “How’s Hannah?”
Not even slightly winded by their run, Enos winced. “She’s in a lot of pain.”
“Already?”
He ducked his head as he reached for the doorknob. “Ach, vell, she’s been up most of the night. She tried to ignore the pains at first because it was too early. She’s close to ready now.”
Most of the night? Leah was used to Amish women waiting until they were close to transitioning before calling the midwife, but this time, it could be dangerous.
The door flew open, and Hannah’s oldest daughter, Maria, stepped out on the porch to hold the storm door so they could enter. She tilted her head shyly in Leah’s direction, then turned to her daed as the door banged shut behind her.
“I put the pots of water to boil on the stove. And the others are dressed in their coats and ready to go. I’ll take them to Aenti Sarah’s now.” Maria shepherded the four-year-old and six-year-old toward the back door. “And I changed Aaron’s diaper, gave him a bottle, and propped him up. He’s still having trouble breathing.”
Enos nodded and set Leah’s bag on the sparkling-clean kitchen table. “Gut, gut. I’ll come to get you soon. Behave yourselves, now. And be sure to help Sarah with the cleaning and pies for church.”
“We will,” Maria promised as she led the others out onto the porch.
Despite the tension in her stomach, Leah smiled at the girls. She prayed they’d have a lovely surprise when they got home, but her roiling stomach warned her of danger. Especially if she had to handle this delivery alone.
“Hannah,” Enos called, after the door had banged shut behind the children, “Leah is here. I’ll unhook her carriage and be right back.”
Hannah’s tired danke barely carried from the back bedroom.
Leah unzipped her bag and hastily pulled out a few basic supplies. “I’ll go back to her.”
With murmured thanks, Enos rushed for the door.
Using some of the boiling water to wash up, Leah called after him, “Did Sharon answer?”
“Neh, and I didn’t want to leave Hannah alone for too long, so I didn’t try again.” The door slammed, and Enos was gone.
Dear Lord, please help Sharon and Dr. Hess to answer their phones, Leah prayed as she raced down the hall.
No sound came from the bedroom. Leah always marveled at how most Amish women barely made a sound during labor unlike the Englischers she’d heard when Sharon took her to the local hospital for observation. Groans, screeches, and crying came from the delivery rooms. Perhaps some of the mothers’ distress was caused by being forced into such an unnatural position, lying on their backs.
Hannah, like most other Amish mothers, still paced the room. Leah drew in a breath. If she hadn’t gotten on her hands and knees yet, maybe delivery wasn’t imminent. Hannah bent over, panting and clutching her abdomen.
“Can I check you?” Leah asked gently once the contraction had passed.
Hannah nodded and moved toward the bed with its plastic sheeting and freshly washed, but worn, bedding. Leah’s hands shook. She’d never done an examination alone. She tried hard to remember everything Sharon had taught her, but she didn’t need any of her training. The baby’s head was already crowning.
Enos clattered through the back door, and Leah yelled to him, “The baby’s almost here.”
A rush of water in the other room indicated he was washing his hands. Enos had been fastidious whenever she and Sharon came for Hannah’s monthly checkups, but Leah needed him now. He had more experience with deliveries than she had. He’d been with his wife through six other deliveries, including the two babies she’d lost. Leah prayed this wouldn’t be another.
Enos must have had the same thought, because worry lines framed his eyes and mouth, but he smoothed his face into a reassuring smile as he hurried toward his wife. After a loving look at Hannah, he climbed on the bed to support her while she pushed. His quiet words of encouragement helped calm Leah’s nerves and shaky hands. With a whispered prayer, she prepared to do her best, but this delivery was now in God’s hands.
* * *
Dr. Hess wove the car down the bumpy lanes and chattered to Kyle, seeming not to notice the lack of response. Kyle let the words wash over him as soothing white noise, but he took in little of what the doctor was saying. Kyle’s mind was still on Reuben’s face.
The last time he’d seen Reuben, he’d been blindsided by the news of the baby and Emma’s rejection. Every time he thought of that day, of Emma’s agony as she pushed her way past her amnesia and recognized him, Kyle’s heart clenched into a knot so tight his chest ached. He’d brought her nothing but pain. Knowing that had kept him from ever getting close to another woman. He couldn’t bear to think of inflicting anyone else with such agony. He’d become a doctor to atone for his guilt. But nothing he did could ever erase his past.
Fall leaves swirled in the gusts that shook the car. Scarlet, russet, pumpkin, and maize drifted into a carpet covering the ground, leaving behind stark, bare branches silhouetted against the sky. He’d first seen Emma at this time of year, and he’d lost her on a freezing winter day. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut.
One of his friends had convinced him to go to a party at an Amish barn. Emma had defied her family during Rumspringa by wearing Englisch clothes and breaking all the rules her Amish parents set. They’d both been young and foolish teenagers when they fell in love, but he’d offered to marry her. Instead she’d insisted on leaving and returning to the Amish. He’d lost his temper and driven recklessly. They’d skidded on the ice and crashed.
He’d walked away from the accident with minor injuries, but Emma…
He still couldn’t bear to think of that night. Of her bleeding on the snow. Of his inability to help. She survived, but they’d both lost something precious that night.
Emma’s recovery took years. And her father blamed himself for everything.
Kyle had seen Emma one final time a few days before her wedding to another man. He’d begged her to forgive him. She said she had, but then she’d walked off into someone else’s arms. His insides twisted as fresh pain welled up.
Friends kept telling him to let go, but for Kyle, reliving the anguish was a penance. A reminder never to lose his temper. Never to do anything to damage someone else’s life. Never to give in to love.
“Are you all right?” Dr. Hess reached over and laid a comforting hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I took you to the Eshes’. I wish I’d thought about…” His voice trailed off, and Kyle felt sorry for him.
“It’s not your fault.” The visit had taken him back. Back to a painful past. “I’m mainly just tired.” But that wasn’t the whole truth. The last thing he wanted to do, though, was to make this kindly old doctor feel worse.
“I apologize for your tiredness too,” Dr. Hess said. “Listen, if you’d rather rest while I help Leah, just tilt your seat back and wrap up in that afghan back there.” He gestured toward a knitted blanket of multicolored squares that matched the fall colors outside the window. “Esther has made a few of those over the past few years for me to keep in the car, but I often end up giving them away or using them to cover patients.” His lips curved into a fond smile. “She doesn’t mind. She keeps knitting replacements.”
“She’s a good woman.” Kyle knew that firsthand. Esther had offered continual support in those dark days before and after his mother’s death.
Smile lines creasing his eyes, Dr. Hess turned down the Fishers’ gravel driveway. “Yes, she’s a giving person. I’m so grateful God provided such a wonderful helpmeet.” After putting the car in park and turning off the engine, he turned to Kyle and fixed him with a serious stare. “If you wait for the special person God has for you, you’ll be as blessed as I am. A loving heart is the most wonderful attribute you could ask for in a wife.”
Kyle tried not to wince. He wasn’t in the market for a wife and never would be. Falling in love was too painful. Besides, he’d given up on God, so God definitely didn’t have a special person for him.
Dr. Hess hopped out of the car and grabbed his bag from the trunk. Kyle unwound himself from the car the way he wished he could unwind the tight cords surrounding his heart.
He followed the doctor, who walked into the house without knocking. Dr. Hess called out a hello as he charged down a back hall. No one answered, but he kept going past several bedrooms. Before they reached the last one, a thin, reedy wail stopped Kyle dead. A baby in distress.
Dr. Hess hurried toward the sound, but Kyle froze. Too many memories rushed over him—another baby whose cries had been silenced the night his world had been ripped apart.
The doctor’s booming voice jolted him back to reality. He needed to get in there to help. They’d come to save a preemie. A child whose life might be hanging in the balance. Kyle forced himself to head toward the room.
Leah settled a small, still-damp infant upright against his mother’s chest.
Although he still worried about her home remedies, Kyle’s estimate of Leah’s competence rose. Had that been instinctive, or did she know about kangaroo care for preemies?
The Amish man who sat on the bed beside his wife set a large, calloused hand on the baby’s back before Leah swiftly covered the baby with a pile of blankets. After she rubbed the baby’s head dry, she tucked a tiny knitted cap over a headful of black hair.
Leah turned to Dr. Hess, and her wide, generous smile took Kyle’s breath away. He jerked his gaze from her face. Never again would he make that mistake. She had an appealing, fresh-faced sweetness that called to something deep within him, but falling for another Amish woman would only lead to heartache.
What was wrong with him? Lack of sleep and nostalgia over Emma must have overtaken his groggy brain. Why else would he be thinking such thoughts about a woman he’d just met?
When she glanced at him, her gaze quickly skittered away. Yet her eyes stirred a long-forgotten memory deep within his soul. He shook his head to clear away the mist fogging his brain.
“His one-minute Apgar was seven,” Leah said, drawing Kyle’s attention to the tears sparkling in her eyes. She ran down the list of stats quietly so the parents couldn’t hear, but Kyle barely registered her words. “Appearance: slightly blue—one; Pulse rate: greater than one hundred beats per minute—two; Grimace: cry on stimulation—two; Activity: some flexion—one; and Respiration: weak cry—one.”
He was impressed with her assessment. For a midwife-in-training, she sounded very knowledgeable.
“Kyle can do the five-minute Apgar,” Dr. Hess said, and elbowed Kyle when he didn’t respond. “What do you say? Would you like to do the Apgar?”
Kyle tore his gaze from Leah. “Of course.” He tried to sound businesslike and avoid looking into her eyes again. “Is it almost time?”
Leah glanced at her watch. “Ten more seconds.”
Kyle moved to the bed and awaited the signal from Leah. He completed the five quick assessments and covered the baby again to keep him warm. “Still a seven.”
Leah pursed her lips. “I hoped it would be higher.”
“It’s a bit low,” Dr. Hess said, “but it falls in the normal range. And with him coming several weeks early, it’s a major blessing.”
Kyle broke in. “Yes, and that’s likely why he has jaundice. We should get him to the hospital and under UV lights immediately.”
“I’d already noticed his skin is slightly yellowish,” Leah said. “I planned to move the cradle to that window”—she gestured to her left—“where he’ll get the most sunlight.”
Dr. Hess nodded, and Kyle glanced at him as if he were crazy. “You’re going to call an ambulance or something and take this preemie to a hospital, aren’t you? He should also be tested for—”
Holding up a hand, the doctor stopped Kyle’s frantic rush of words. “I don’t see the need. He seems to be breathing on his own quite well.” The doctor took Kyle’s place by the bed and began his examination. “His lungs sound normal, so perhaps the due date was a bit off.”
“What about the jaundice?” Kyle struggled to regain normality in this alternate universe, where all the usual procedures and cures had been upended.
Leah dragged the cradle from the parents’ bedside to the window. Sunshine streamed through onto the cradle. She stood and faced Kyle. “Is that better?”
To tamp down the strange magnetism that overtook him whenever he glanced in her direction today, Kyle turned to Dr. Hess, waiting for him to say the baby should be hospitalized. Instead, the doctor’s lips curved into a half smile. “That should work.”
What? Kyle wanted to shout at them both that they shouldn’t take chances with an infant’s life.
“Don’t worry.” Dr. Hess stepped closer and laid a hand on Kyle’s arm. “I’ll keep an eye on the baby. If he appears to need medical intervention, I’ll recommend it.” He leaned closer and added in a low voice, “Remember what I said yesterday?”
Yes, Kyle remembered the Amish often preferred home remedies to prescriptions, but there must be a way to encourage them to consider other options. This young midwife-in-training could be the key. People listened to her. If he could convince her of the importance of hospitals and medicine, he might be able to help this community.
Wait a minute. Surely he wasn’t considering taking this job. No way could he come back to this area to live. Too many memories. Too much heartache. But the thought of working with Leah was definitely tempting.