Angels Watching Over Me (7 page)

“A
surprise? What is it? Tell me, Ethan.” Rebekah was bubbling over with excitement.

“Papa is downstairs with it.”

“I want to see Papa!”

“You will in just a little bit. After he takes care of delivering the surprise.”

“Am I included in your surprise?” Leah asked, smiling.

“Yes,” Ethan said, turning his clear blue eyes on her.

“What is it?”

His sisters were asking the same question, but he didn’t take his gaze off Leah’s face as he answered, “It is a Christmas tree to take the
place of the one that was stolen. Papa and I cut it early this morning from the woods.”

“
Our
woods?” Charity asked, sounding astonished.

“Yes.”

“A
Christmas
tree?”

“Yes.”

Leah hadn’t a clue why Charity was so surprised, nor did she really care. She only knew that gazing into Ethan’s eyes was making her heart pound and her pulse race.

Molly hurried into the room. “The front desk says there’s a man with a Christmas tree down in the lobby. He says his name is Longacre and he wants to bring it up to the rec room.”

Ethan turned. “Our papa. I told him of the theft and he said he would like to bring a tree for the children. We cut it, and a trucker from town helped us get it here.”

“We—all of us nurses—are so grateful, Ethan. Yes, have him bring it up in the freight elevator. I’ll call a custodian to help.”

Ethan left, and Leah and Molly followed him. “It’s pretty nice of them to bring the floor a tree, but why is it such a big deal?” Leah asked.

“The Amish don’t celebrate Christmas the way we do,” Molly said. “They never decorate Christmas trees, and they never focus on exchanging lots of Christmas presents.”

“Then why are they doing this?”

Molly shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Ethan.”

In the rec room, everyone was waiting for the tree delivery. Before long, a handcart carrying the giant evergreen burst through the doorway. Guided by the custodian and steadied by Ethan and his father, the tree was enormous, so tall that it scraped the ceiling. Ice clung to a few of its branches.

“It’s wonderful!” Molly cried. She and a group of nurses had gathered at the door to watch.

“Where do you want it?” the custodian asked.

Nurses scurried to make a place for it in a corner of the room. Leah watched Ethan help set the tree in a bucket of water and anchor it down. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. His forearms bulged with exertion, and his shirt stretched taut across his back. In minutes the tree stood securely, its pungent pine scent filling the room.

“It did not seem so large in the woods,” Ethan’s father said.

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much, Mr. Longacre. The kids will love it,” Leah heard Molly say. “I hope we have enough decorations for it. We’ll go ahead with the decorating party after all.” She turned to one of the nurses. “Call the cafeteria. Tell them what’s going on and see if they can’t rustle up some cookies, or some kind of Christmas goodies.”

The crowd began to break up.

“Now, I am going to see my daughters,” Jacob told his son. Charity had remained in the room with Rebekah.

“I will come shortly, Papa,” Ethan said.

When they were alone, Leah walked over to him. “This was very nice of you. But Molly said the Amish don’t make a big fuss over Christmas.”

“Christmas is important to us, Leah. It is the day Christ was born.”

“But it’s different for you than it is for us. Why did you bring the tree?”

“It is true that our ways are not your ways, but Christmas is special for us. In our house we exchange gifts. Not all Amish do, but we do. It
is a day of feasting and visiting and being with our family.”

“But we’re not in your family. We’re ‘English.’ ”

“I told Papa of all the children who can’t go home for Christmas Day. I told him how much the Christmas tree means to them.”

“So this is just an act of Christian charity?” Leah wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“It is a kindness, yes. But it is also a way of bringing
you
a little of my farm and home. The woods are very beautiful and the trees have stood there many years. I wish you could see them.”

Leah had already begun to grasp Ethan’s deep love for the earth and living things. She understood that giving up the tree had not been done lightly. “I wish I could see them too.” She bent several needles of the tree and released more of the heavy pine aroma. “But I guess this is the only way I’ll ever go there.”

He didn’t say anything, and she felt her heart sink a little. Their worlds were far apart, and there was nothing she could do to bridge the gap. He was Amish. She was English.

“Did you hear that Rebekah’s fever broke this morning?”

“It did? That’s wonderful. I will go see her right away.” Halfway to the door he asked, “Are you coming with me?”

“Not now. I’ll let all of you visit together for a while.”

“But it’s your room too.”

But not my family
, she thought. “Go on. I’ll come later.” Suddenly she panicked at the thought of his leaving without her seeing him again. “Will you stay for the party tonight?”

“Papa wants to go right home. There are chores to do, work that can’t wait. And tomorrow is Sunday, the Sabbath. That is a day for rest and for church and family. Charity and I will both leave …” He let his sentence trail off. “But this is probably not interesting to you. Forgive me.”

Everything about him was interesting to her. “I—I’ll miss all of you when you leave for good.”

“And I shall miss you, Leah.”

The sound of her name on his lips made her heart flutter. “But you’ll be back on Monday?”

“Is this important to you?”

She told him about her biopsy. “I—I think it would be easier if I knew someone was going to be with me when I woke up from the anesthesia.
It’s no big deal. Just a nice thing to know.”

A wry smile turned up the corners of Ethan’s mouth. “I think, Leah Lewis-Hall, that you are not so brave as you sometimes pretend.”

Leah squared her chin. “I’m used to being alone. I just thought … forget it. I don’t want you to put yourself out or anything.”

“Put myself out?”

“It means—”

“I know what it means. I cannot understand how you would think that it would be a bother to me to be here when you wake up from your surgery. You are not a bother, Leah. You are special.”

The way he said the word
special
, the way he was looking at her, made her want to throw herself into his arms. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“I did not say it to be nice. I said it because it is true.”

“And you don’t lie.”

He grinned. “You know me well.”

She returned a smile. “You’d better go visit with Rebekah before your father comes looking for you.”

“Don’t stay away too long,” he said as he left the room.

She stood for a long time, looking at the space where he had stood, wishing with all her heart that things could be different. That this Christmas she could ask for and receive the gift of Ethan in her life long after the holiday was over.

Leah killed as much time as she could before returning to her room. At the door, she paused and peered inside to see Ethan, his sister and their father clustered around Rebekah’s bed. The little girl was sitting up and chattering excitedly. Charity saw Leah in the doorway and hurried over and took her arm.

“Guess what, Leah. Papa has given his permission for Ethan and me to stay for the party tonight. Isn’t that wonderful?”

T
he party was set to start at six-thirty. Charity took Rebekah to the rec room in a wheelchair. Leah helped guide the child’s IV pole alongside; although Rebekah’s fever had broken, her doctor had not authorized her being taken off the antibiotic.

The rec room swarmed with kids who were decorating the tree from boxes of ornaments piled on the floor. Two orderlies, an intern, and Ethan were patiently stringing lights around the tree, while Molly supervised and nurses helped the children.

“I thought your shift was through for the day,” Leah said, to Molly.

“It is, but I couldn’t leave everyone to party
without me. I called my husband and told him I’d be late tonight.” She clamped her hands over her ears. “Loud in here, isn’t it?”

“All good parties are loud.” Leah noticed Rebekah and Charity standing to one side, staring wide-eyed at the activity. With their odd clothing, they did look a little out of place.

“Ethan’s gotten into the swing of things, hasn’t he?” Molly asked.

Leah watched him scurrying up a ladder with a handful of lights, which he proceeded to loop carefully around the tree. Even though his clothing was as dated as his sisters’, he somehow looked less out of place. “I’m glad their father let Ethan and Charity stay,” Leah told Molly.

“When are they leaving?”

“Ethan said they were catching a nine o’clock van.”

“The party should be over by then.”

“Do you think Rebekah will go home soon?”

“Sure, as long as she continues to improve. Hospital stays are expensive. Doctors try to get patients out of here quickly.”

Leah realized that since she wouldn’t be released until her mother and Neil came to get her on Thursday, she’d have been a patient for
more than a week. Her hospitalization was going to cost Neil a bundle. She wondered if he would resent her for spending so much of his money when he wasn’t even her father.

“Of course, most people have insurance,” Molly said. “But the Amish don’t.”

“They don’t have
any
insurance?”

Molly shook her head. “They believe in taking care of their own. Rebekah’s bills will be paid in full by the Amish community.”

Leah remembered the times she and her mother had had no one to fall back on. Leah’s mother had never wanted to accept charity, especially not from Grandma Hall. They had had to apply for food stamps once, and when she was old enough to understand the meaning of taking public assistance, she had felt ashamed about it and hadn’t wanted anyone at school to know. “I’m glad the Amish take care of each other,” she said. “It must be nice.”

“You’re going to miss them when they go, aren’t you?”

Leah gave Molly a self-conscious glance. “The room will be lonely without someone to talk to. And after they leave, I’ll never see them again.” Just saying it gave Leah a jolt.

“You could still visit them sometime. Maybe this summer.”

Leah wondered what life was like on an Amish farm in the summer. Ethan and Charity must work all day. And at night, there’d be no TV or even electricity by which to read a book. She sighed. “I don’t think so. Sometimes I wonder why we even met. It seems so pointless.”

“Sometimes things happen for a purpose we can’t see until much later. Sometimes we never know why,” Molly said. “Whoops!” she interrupted herself. “Someone needs my help.” She darted off to untangle a small boy who had managed to wrap himself in a garland of tinsel.

Leah went over to Charity and Rebekah. “So what do you think of all this Christmas stuff, Rebekah?”

“She’s confused,” Charity admitted. “As am I. Why do you decorate trees?”

“To celebrate, I guess.”

“Celebrate what?”

Leah fumbled for words. “It’s just what people do this time of the year. They decorate for the holidays, give presents and eat turkey dinners and do family stuff.”

“Just like us!” Rebekah exclaimed.

Charity glanced around at the frenzied activity in the room and shook her head. “Not like us at all.”

“Listen, why don’t we slip into the library where it’s quieter,” Leah suggested. “We’ll come out when it’s time for cookies and Christmas music. I think one of the doctors is dressing up as Santa Claus.”

“Who?” Rebekah asked.

“I’ll explain later.” Leah hustled her into the library, with Charity following close behind. The room looked friendly and smelled like books. The closed door kept out most of the noise.

“Look, Charity,” Rebekah said, holding up a colorful picture book from a nearby table. “What’s this about?”

Leah watched Charity leaf through pages filled with photos of paintings of beautiful angels. “Angels?” she asked Leah with astonishment. “Is this what you English think angels look like?”

Leah stiffened at the words
you English
. She studied the renderings of golden-haired beings wearing long, flowing robes and expressions of rapture. “I guess so.”

“Why are they wearing these bird wings?”

“Because angels can fly.” Leah paused, suddenly unsure. “Can’t they?”

“Angels are spirits. They come and go as they please,” Charity said. “Only the cherubim and seraphim have wings.”

Leah stared hard at the book. She’d always seen angels drawn as attractive people wearing wings. “They don’t look like this?”

“A cherub is a fearsome creature with four sides and four faces that look like a man, a lion, an eagle and a bull. The cherubim’s wings cover their hands, and when their wings beat the air, it sounds like thunder. They flash fire as bright as lightning.”

Leah listened, openmouthed. What Charity had described sounded more like a monster. “You’re kidding. How do you know this?”