River of Mercy (20 page)

He went on to explain. “The pain and fever are caused by inflammation of the joints. If the inflammation can be decreased, so can the pain. I want to talk to the child's mother. There are a few things she can do that will help or at least give the girl some relief. Hot packs, warm baths…although sometimes cold seems to help more. Unfortunately, it takes some experimenting to find out what's most effective. What works for one doesn't necessarily work for another.”

He paused, straightening a little before going on. “I'm concerned that there might be something else going on here as well.”

“Something else? What?” said Gant.

Doc hesitated and drew a long breath. “I think she may have some sort of an ague. I'm not sure the fever is altogether due to the rheumatism. She's showing signs of something like a bad cold—perhaps even influenza.”

Feeling a bit sick himself by now, Gant shook his head to clear his mind. “I don't know what we can do for her, things being what they are. She'll have to stay underground with the others through the day, and if anyone sees us going back and forth to the barn at night, it can raise questions. It sounds as though she's going to need more care than we can give her.”

“You said you want to talk with her mother?” Silas asked Doc. “But Jalee, she doesn't speak much English. Not much at all. She's from one of those places in Africa. Hasn't been here long. Your man—Asa—he better go with you. He seems to understand Jalee pretty good.” He darted a look at Gant as if seeking an explanation.

“Asa is originally from a village in Africa,” Gant said. “He came here when he was a young man.”

Asa had come to the States on a slave ship, but Gant didn't volunteer any more information. The thought of his friend's background never failed to bring a sour taste to Gant's mouth. He had heard more than he cared to know about the slave ships. The thought of Asa chained below decks in one of those floating coffins was intolerable.

But Silas clearly was reluctant to let the subject go. “Asa is a slave?”

“No, Asa is
not
a slave,” Gant shot back. “He's been a free man for years.”

“But he
was
a slave,” the boy pressed.

Gant merely looked at him, saying nothing.

As if Doc sensed the tension between Gant and the boy, He broke in. “I'll get Asa to help me explain things to the mother. In the meantime,” he said to Gant, “it would be good to collect some towels or cloths that can be used to apply heat. Moist heat is best. Perhaps you can heat a few at a time on the stove in hot water. Just…do what you can.”

Gant nodded and went to hurry the few people who were still above ground down the ladder below before heading back to the house.

Uneasiness clawed at him like a buzzard on his back all along the path leading away from the barn. All this coming and going back and forth from the house to the barn, the need for Doc at the crack of dawn…it just made it that much easier for trouble to come down on them.

Finally, when he felt as if he was about to choke on the knot in his throat, he muttered a hurried prayer.
“Lord, the last thing we need right now is another complication… another burden to hinder us from getting these people out of here and back on their way to freedom. If You intend to get us out of this fix, it seems like now would be a good time to start.”

19

Why do we say love hurts?
It's the absence of love that hurts.

ANONYMOUS

F
rom his workplace near the front window, Gideon Kanagy watched his boss, Captain Gant, talking with Ellie Sawyer in front of the shop. The Captain was sporting a wide smile while holding the woman's baby. At the same time, he looked a little tense, as if he might split and run any second.

This wasn't the first time Gideon had seen the two together, and as before, he couldn't quite stop a grin at the Captain's behavior around the pretty blonde widow. He always looked a bit
ferhoodled
in her presence. He laughed a lot, but it seemed forced, not his usual way of tossing back his head and laughing for real. Sometimes he pinched his face in an odd kind of frown, as if she'd said something he didn't quite get.

It seemed to Gideon that his employer didn't realize the woman was sweet on him. The Captain was no
dummkopf,
that was for sure, so why did he seem to go all mushy brained around the widow Sawyer?

Not that it mattered. True, if one didn't know better, it might seem that the Captain was taken with the woman. But Gideon
did
know better. His employer was taken with a woman all right, but not Ellie Sawyer. The woman who had captured Captain Gant's affections was Gideon's own sister, Rachel.

Of course, the Captain probably didn't realize that he knew. But he'd seen the way his boss's eyes followed every move Rachel made when he thought no one was looking. For that matter, he'd seen the way Rachel couldn't take her eyes off the Captain.

But there was also the crack Samuel Beiler's oldest boy had made, back when Gideon had still hung around with Aaron and some of the other Amish fellows. That night, some of them had been in town at Carroll's candy store, just horsing around and buying nothing while Ted Carroll kept a sharp eye on them.

Gideon had often had the feeling that Aaron had it in for him, although he couldn't think why. Maybe because he wasn't living Amish like the rest of them. Most of the fellows knew Aaron resented much of the
Ordnung
and having to live under all its rules. That night Aaron had made some crack that his
dat
would probably be courting Gideon's sister, Rachel, if only the
auslander
Captain Gant hadn't arrived in town. He made it sound as if he knew for certain that the Captain was sweet on Rachel and that some among the People were beginning to spread rumors that maybe the feeling ran both ways.

Gideon had been tempted to call Aaron to account for his gossip, but he held his silence. He hadn't known but what the younger boy's hints might contain some truth, so he'd decided to ignore the loose talk. Truth be told, by then he'd begun to have his own suspicions about Gant and his sister.

By now, however, he was convinced they were more than mere suspicions—not that he thought either of them was guilty of deception. He was pretty sure neither Rachel nor his employer would indulge in anything immoral. But he was almost just as certain that strong feelings were running between them.

Things were difficult when that happened between one who was Amish and another who wasn't. There was no bending the rules about courtship between the Amish and the
Englisch.

The thought brought to mind his own situation with Emma Knepp. Of course, he was still Amish. But he couldn't openly court Emma—not that she would even consider the idea—because he wasn't
living
Amish. He knew that sooner or later he ought to give the matter some thought, yet every time he even started to dwell on the situation, he backed off. He wasn't ready to confront just how serious his feelings were or to choose the direction he wanted his life to take. Sometimes he genuinely missed the Amish life. But at other times he felt as if he were a stranger to both worlds, and he wondered if he really belonged in either. Lately he'd caught himself wishing that if one way of life were right for him and the other wrong, he could figure out which was which.

Standing on the boardwalk in front of the shop, Gant was trying to think of a way to take his leave of Ellie Sawyer without being rude. At the same time, he wondered what kind of an
amadon
—a fool—he was for wanting to escape a pretty young widow who, for some unaccountable reason, seemed to like his company.

Thing was, he always felt awkward around Ellie. Unless he was thickheaded entirely, she seemed interested in him. But why would she be? He was fairly certain he'd never given her any reason to think he returned her interest. To the contrary, he usually found it difficult just to be himself around her, much less strike the kind of pose some fellows might adopt when trying to attract a woman.

That wasn't Ellie's fault. She seemed to be everything a man with even a scrap of common sense would be drawn to. In addition to being attractive, she was bright and amusing and lively. She had a way about her that would probably make most fellows feel pretty good about themselves.

But the reality was that he wasn't interested in keeping company with
any
woman anymore, not in a romantic way. Because of Rachel.

Because of Rachel.

Just about everything in his life these days seemed to revolve around those words. Because of Rachel, he had stayed in a community where he was an outsider. Because of Rachel, he had all he could do to keep his mind on his work instead of wandering down paths that held only roadblocks. And because of Rachel, he couldn't rid himself of a restlessness and a dissatisfaction with most anything he turned a hand to.

If he had his way, he'd be with her every minute—day and night. Once he'd come to love her, he never felt as if he belonged anywhere else. He never wanted her out of his sight, yet he saw her so rarely that he ached with her absence.

What a fix he was in. He was like a lovesick schoolboy and a dimwitted one at that.

“Captain Gant…Jeremiah? Would you like me to take Naomi now?”

Ellie's question yanked Gant back to his surroundings.

He blinked. “Oh…aye, I imagine she's ready to go back to her mama.” Quickly he returned the baby to Ellie's arms. “And I expect I'd better get back to work.” He paused and then added, “I enjoyed the walk though. Thanks for insisting I get out for a bit.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Honestly, Jeremiah, if I didn't insist, I wonder if you'd ever leave that shop. You surely do seem to love your work.”

Gant eased his shoulders after freeing himself from the weight of the baby. Wee Naomi seemed to be growing. “Well, it's just that I always have a lot to do.”

Her expression was dubious as she continued to study him while patting the baby's back. “Yes, I've noticed. And that being the case, I mustn't keep you any longer. Hopefully, we'll see you again soon.”

Gant touched his cap and tried not to appear too anxious to get away.