A Miracle of Hope (The Amish Wonders Series) (20 page)
“You need to start dressing in layers.” This weather was mild compared to January, February, and March. Some of those days could be so cold that he wasn’t able to feed the woodstove fast enough.
“I hope Hannah doesn’t catch a cold from last
nacht
. I can’t believe she got all wet.”
“She does a lot of strange things . . . since Caroline died. But she seemed happy to be cooking with you.” He remembered the time Hannah and Caroline had picked mushrooms in the woods and how proud Hannah had been showing him her basket. She had more twigs than mushrooms, but he’d made a big fuss over what she’d collected. Hannah had helped Caroline make homemade noodles, then they’d sautéed the mushrooms in butter and served them in a rich cream sauce.
Lindie cleared her throat, pulling him back to the present. “I think you’ll be surprised at how much Hannah will like the pencils.”
“She sure spends a lot of time drawing.”
Lindie frowned. He hadn’t meant to sound negative.
The traffic picked up as they approached town, so he kept Molly near the shoulder. His thoughts drifted to Caroline. What would she think of their daughter spending so much time drawing? He had to shake this guilt over seeing Lindie in the tub. Last night thoughts of Lindie nearly drove him mad. He had to admit he missed having a real marriage. But when thoughts crept in about becoming Lindie’s husband in the biblical sense, memories of Caroline pulled him away.
He reined Molly onto Cedar Street.
Lindie leaned forward, taking in the scenery. “The wreaths on the lampposts are nice. This town really decorates for Christmas, ain’t so?”
“Simon and I made those wreaths.”
“You did?”
“The Chamber of Commerce buys fifty every year to hang in town and around the courthouse. This year several of the businesses ordered them for their storefronts. I delivered the last of the orders the other day.”
“I didn’t know that was what you were doing in the barn.”
“It’s extra income during the holidays. The hardest part is clipping and dragging the cedar boughs out of the woods. Attaching them to the chicken wire isn’t difficult.” He turned the corner onto Elm Street and stopped Molly outside of the doctor’s office.
“I’m feeling much better,” Lindie said amid a flurry of cold air. “I’ll be able to eat—for two. Promise.”
It wasn’t that simple. No baby could survive her emaciated state.
J
osiah sat in the lobby of the doctor’s office, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. At least he picked a good time of day to bring Lindie; the office lobby was empty. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a white lab coat and looked up.
“Your wife will be out shortly,” Doctor Ethridge said. “Perhaps we could all talk in my office?”
“Sure.” Josiah rose from the chair. The last time the doctor suggested a talk in his office, the news was devastating. A deep, racking cough overtook Josiah and he had to pause until it passed.
“Coughing a lot, Josiah?”
“Some.” Lately he coughed more than he cared to admit.
“Any blood?”
“No.” Up until now, the cough was mostly dry and nagging, not productive. He had an idea of what the doctor was getting at, but Lindie was the patient, not him.
Doctor Ethridge stopped at the end of the hall and faced Josiah. He leaned closer and eyed Josiah over his wire-rimmed glasses.
Too close. He didn’t like being under this form of scrutiny.
“Your color doesn’t look too bad. Any night sweats?”
Josiah shrugged. Yes, he had night sweats. He married a woman he didn’t know. He scanned the area. He didn’t want Lindie to overhear these questions.
“Josiah, I think we need to do a blood workup.”
“I’m healed.” He lowered his voice. “You said so yourself six years ago.”
“We should check to be sure that’s still the case.” Doctor Ethridge opened the door to his office and motioned to one of the chairs positioned in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Josiah sank onto the chair’s overstuffed cushion. This room hadn’t changed. The same framed documents adorned the wall behind the mahogany desk. Matching bookcases flanked the windows. He’d crafted the office furniture in lieu of payment for his and Caroline’s medical services. He scanned the room, wondering what the doctor would take in exchange for delivering Lindie’s baby. The office didn’t appear to need more furniture. Perhaps crown molding, but even that wouldn’t be much in trade. They would work out something. Doctor Ethridge was known for fairness and his willingness to barter services.
“When did we last do a full panel of blood work on you?”
“I don’t know, but my blood is checked a couple times a year.” He wasn’t sure what type of tests they did, or if a full panel had something to do with how many tubes of blood they took. Sometimes they sent the blood to a specialty lab. It cost him three hundred dollars when they did. Unfortunately, the doctor had no bargaining ability for the outsourced lab work.
Doctor Ethridge picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Monica, will you pull Josiah Plank’s chart and bring it to me? Thanks.” He lowered the phone.
Josiah shifted on the chair. The back of his neck was moist.
He tugged on the collarless hem of his shirt. The office was too warm. If he weren’t under such scrutiny, he would ask for a glass of water. He cleared his throat. “Did you say Lindie was going to meet us in here?”
“I ordered blood work on her as well, so it might take a few more minutes. The nurse will bring your wife in when she’s finished.”
“How’s the baby?”
“I’m concerned. The baby isn’t developing according to the charts.” The doctor folded his hands on his desk. “Until the blood work comes back and I can do an ultrasound, it’s difficult to determine the gestational age of the fetus. Based on the date your wife provided, she should be in her eighteenth week.” He flipped open the folder before him, skimmed the page with his finger, then repositioned the chart so that Josiah could look at the graph. “If the date is correct, this is what she should measure.” He moved his finger down the scale. “But this is her measurement. I’m afraid she isn’t developing as she should, which places her in a high-risk category.”
Josiah recalled how Caroline’s last two pregnancies were termed high risk. “Is that because she’s sick all the time?”
“That could play a part in the underdevelopment, but morning sickness is common. Even into the second trimester.”
“But Lindie is sick multiple times a day. It isn’t just in the morning. I think she’s losing weight instead of gaining it.”
“That is a problem.” He studied the paperwork in the chart a moment, mumbling something about a BMI, and ended with saying, “She’s underweight even if she wasn’t pregnant.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“How would you rate her stress level?”
Sky-high
. “She’s under quite a bit of stress.”
Doctor Ethridge jotted a note on the paper. “Interesting. I didn’t find her high-strung. If anything, she appeared somewhat despondent. But some people internalize stress.”
Josiah swallowed hard. “Do you think she will . . . be all right?”
“We’ll have to keep a close watch on her and monitor the development of the baby. Is this her first prenatal checkup?”
Josiah nodded.
“I understand Amish women prefer to have their children at home, but I would strongly advise a hospital delivery.”
He and Lindie hadn’t discussed anything about the delivery. Caroline labored fifteen hours before giving birth to Hannah. The only exposure he’d had to a difficult delivery was when he aided a heifer birthing her first calf.
“The hospital is equipped to handle any complications that might present themselves during the delivery.”
Josiah wiped his hand over his perspiring brow.
The doctor leaned forward. “She mentioned having sharp pains the other day. If she has any more, or if she starts to bleed, you’ll need to bring her in immediately.” A light tap on the office door pulled the doctor’s attention. “Come in.”
“Here is the chart you asked for.”
“Thank you. Please send Mrs. Plank in when she’s ready.”
“Oh, she left.”
Josiah bolted up from the chair. “When?”
“A few minutes ago.” The woman shrugged. “I set her next appointment for a month from now.”
Doctor Ethridge rose from his chair. “I need to see her before then. Didn’t you read my notation in her chart?” He turned to Josiah. “I wanted to talk with you about doing an ultrasound tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring her. What time?”
“What does the schedule look like tomorrow?” he asked the nurse.
“First patient is at ten.”
“Let’s add Lindie in before that.” He turned to Josiah. “Can you bring her in at nine?”
Josiah nodded, his mind still swirling about Lindie having sharp pains that he hadn’t known about. Perhaps they occurred during the night and she hadn’t wanted to wake him.
The nurse led the way down the hall. “I’ll give you the papers explaining the test and how she needs to prepare for it.”
“Josiah,” Doctor Ethridge said. “I’ll take your blood samples when you come in tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He hurried toward the door. Over the years he’d given blood routinely and it always came back fine. Even when he had a cold last winter and coughed so much he barely slept or kept food down. He couldn’t concern himself with the tests now. His mind was on why Lindie had left the office. He hoped she hadn’t panicked when she didn’t find him waiting in the lobby.
Lindie shivered in the corner of the buggy bench. She hadn’t stopped shaking since the nurse instructed her to shed her clothing and put on a paper gown for the exam. Mortified, she pulled her cape tighter, wishing she could disappear under the covering completely.
The buggy door opened and Josiah poked his head inside. “Why did you leave without me?” His smile faded and he climbed inside. Only instead of grabbing the reins and releasing the brake, he slid across the bench closer to her. He cocked his
head sideways. “You weren’t worried about
nett
finding me in the lobby, were you?”
“
Nay,
” was all Lindie managed before she choked. She blinked to clear her blurry vision.
He pulled her into his arms and pressed her hard against his chest. “Please try
nett
to worry about the
boppli
.”
His woodsy cedar scent washed over her, and her heart rate ratcheted into a gallop. Images of that night swirled in her head. Pinned down by the man, her screams suffocated. Lindie panted and pressed her forearms against his chest, struggling to break the circle of his embrace.
“Lindie?” he whispered against her ear before pulling away from her. “I know this has all been very stressful. You’ve had so many changes to adjust to—pregnancy, marriage—I guess what I’m trying to say is: we’re in this together. You and me . . . and Hannah. And the new
boppli
. We’re a family.”
She stared at him skeptically. There wasn’t a kinder man than Josiah Plank, but they were far from the traditional Amish family. He had wanted their marriage to be in name only, and she wasn’t complaining. Although hesitant at first, she’d begun to trust the boundaries of their arrangement, a miracle since she’d vowed never to trust any man.
Josiah scooted to the driver’s side of the bench. “Do you feel up to going into the general store? They sell art supplies and we could pick up a set of those colored pencils that you wanted to give to Hannah.”
She cracked a smile. “
Jah
, I would like that.”
He released the buggy brake. “The store is only a few blocks down.” He clicked his tongue, and Molly perked her ears and lurched forward.
The steady, almost musical clip-clopping of the mare’s hooves
against the pavement eased Lindie’s frayed nerves. Things could be much worse. Josiah could be overbearing, even demanding, with his authority over her. He certainly was better to Hannah than Lindie’s own father had been. Her father had forbidden her to spend time drawing foolish pictures, whereas Josiah was making the effort to encourage his daughter to develop her God-given gift.
Josiah parked the buggy behind the building. Buying special pencils was a waste of time and money. Girls needed to learn to cook and sew, not create fancy artwork. But this was for Lindie as much as Hannah. She seemed to think his daughter had a special gift. Why hadn’t he recognized it?