by Alison Stone
“It’s a shame.” Her father’s punitive nature seemed overly harsh, especially toward a young woman who was making a good life for herself. Perhaps they didn’t realize the real trouble people could get into. How would her parents have reacted to a daughter like Leann, someone addicted to drugs? He supposed everyone had to follow their own path and make their own mistakes, including shunning a perfectly decent person.
Bridget sagged and rested her head on the edge of the railing post. She played with the strings on her bonnet. “It’s what they know. They want to guilt me into returning.”
Zach plucked at his suspenders. “It’s hot in here. Would you like to talk a walk? Get some fresh air?”
Bridget pulled herself up to standing. “I’d love it.” She spun around and took the stairs two at a time. “Let me put on my boots,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you out back.”
* * *
Bridget had made herself presentable—by Amish standards—before heading outside. She figured they had a solid three hours before the service in the barn ended. As she and Zach crossed the field, she lifted her face toward the sun and bit back the automatic tendency to fill the silence with talk about the weather. After all the excitement of the past couple days, she wanted to try to just be. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy this glorious late-summer Sunday morning.
Zach walked by her side, allowing her to lead the way. She followed a familiar path that wound for a few hundred yards into the trees, around a man-made lake, then to the far side of the barn. Then they could cut across the field to the house. Zach could leave and she’d retreat to her bedroom and pray that someone thought to bring her some food.
They reached the tree line, and the dappled sunlight created dancing shadows. An earthy smell reached her nose and took her right back. It was surreal. The Miller kids had spent hours playing by the lake between their chores. When her little brothers weren’t around, she and Liddie used to talk about the husbands they’d have, their homes and children. Liddie never had any reason to believe that it wouldn’t come to fruition. Bridget had believed it, too, at first, because leaving seemed like too big of a leap. Until staying became more of one.
“I thought I’d spend my entire life here,” Bridget said, no longer wanting to be alone with her thoughts.
“What made you decide to leave? I’m starting to see how hard that must have been.” Zach slowed and squinted against the sun streaming through the trees.
“You should have grabbed a hat.”
Half his mouth quirked up, making him more handsome. “I’m more of a baseball hat kinda guy. The straw hat was making my head itch.” The power of suggestion made him scratch his head.
“The hat might have been too small.” She resisted a strange urge to run her fingers along the subtle red line marking his forehead where the hat had sat. Lacing her fingers, she added, “I’m pretty impressed the clothes fit, though.”
She reached up and plucked a yellowish-green leaf off the maple tree. In a couple months, they’d be vibrant red. She twirled the stem between her fingers, her mind traveling back to the time when the idea that her vocation might be outside this patch of dirt.
“I can’t get used to not having pockets.” Zach ran his thumbs under his suspenders. “I had to leave my wallet in the glove box.”
Bridget laughed. Despite the tough-guy vibe she had initially gotten from him at the coffee shop, she was sensing something else. A soft heart somewhere deep down, one he seemed to be fighting hard to protect.
Maybe she should share with him why she had left. It might make him realize how important it was that she get back to Buffalo for the start of classes in a week. She had to complete her nursing degree. “When I was around fourteen, my mem was expecting another baby.”
Zach stopped and turned to face her, obviously sensing she was about to share something important with him.
She smiled up at him, hoping to stop the heat crawling up her neck. “My dat was away at an auction overnight,” she continued, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Zach’s expression remained neutral. “She wasn’t due to have the baby for another two months. She went into labor early. I had to help her deliver the baby.”
“That’s incredible. At fourteen?”
“Yah, well, I didn’t know what to do. My mother was feverish. The baby was so tiny. I sent Liddie down the road to call an ambulance. I left Liddie with the younger kids and went with my mom to the hospital.” Bridget dropped the leaf and watched it float to the ground, landing on a dry patch of dirt. She started walking again and Zach held back a branch so she could pass.
“They saved my mem.” She sniffed. “My brother didn’t make it.” She worked her lower lip. “I overheard one of the doctors at the hospital say the baby would have had a fighting chance if my mother had delivered in the hospital. Those words really stuck with me. It was the first time I had been in a hospital. I was fascinated with the men and women who devoted their lives to saving others.” Bridget shrugged as if it were no big deal, but it was a very big deal, enough to make her leave everything she knew in Hickory Lane. “I wanted to be able to do that for someone.”
“You couldn’t do that here?” Zach asked.
“Not in the same way. Sure, we have midwives who help with births, but I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to make sure my patients had every chance. The most advanced medical care.” She cleared her throat. “Unlike my brother.”
Bridget took another few steps, then looked up at him. For some reason, she suddenly felt the need to defend the Amish. “Don’t get me wrong. We—or the Amish—do use hospitals when we have to. However, if I stayed here, I would have never been allowed to study to become a nurse. To have a career. I owe the life of my mother to those nurses who took care of her. And maybe if my brother had been born in a hospital...
“I felt so helpless. That day changed my life.” Across the field, rows of buggies lined up. The horses had been set loose in the fenced-in field. “I had to leave everything I knew in order to become a nurse. It’s been a long road. I had a lot of education to make up. We only go up to the eighth grade here.”
“Why? Don’t the Amish value education?”
“Education is something that could take a person away from the community.” She shrugged. “You don’t need more than an eighth-grade education to run a farm.”
“Are all Amish farmers?”
“Not all of them. As land gets more precious, some of the men have had to find other jobs in factories or with building crews.” She grabbed her skirt and stepped over a branch in the path.
“You’re a very impressive woman.” The admiration in Zach’s voice made her blush.
“I don’t know about that. Women you know have all sorts of impressive careers.” Bridget’s face blazed hotter. She wasn’t sure why she said that.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” His deep voice washed over her, and she was glad she was a few steps ahead, where he couldn’t see her face.
She found herself picking up her pace as they walked around the short side of the pond and reached the clearing. Seeing the barn and all the buggies gave her the courage to finally ask, “Do you think we could retrieve some of my things from my apartment?”
Zach caught up with her. “We can run to the store and pick up whatever you need. You can’t go back to the apartment. It’s not safe. And, to be honest, a lot of your stuff was probably destroyed in the fire.”
She stopped and tapped the toe of her boot on the hard earth. Hard-fought confidence straightened her spine. “But there’s a chance some of the things were saved, right? Because I’m not talking about things I could easily replace at a store. I’d like to pick up my laptop and a few books.”
One of his eyebrows drew down. “I could have an agent go to the apartment...”
“I’d like to go myself. See the damage and gather a few things. I was thinking last night,
two of my classes next semester are online. This way if I’m a few days late starting the classes, I’ll still be up-to-date with two of them. It’ll make it easier to catch up.”
“Someone could be watching the apartment.”
She held her hand out to him, indicating his clothing. “You’ve proved to me you’re good at undercover.”
“More than you realize,” he muttered.
“Well, we can sneak in. I can wear a baseball cap pulled low. Something. Somehow. Please?” Her voice grew high-pitched. “I can dress like a boy. Come on... There has to be a way.”
Across the field, a young Amish woman emerged from the barn holding a toddler. Something about her frantic, jerky movements sent cold dread straight to Bridget’s heart.
“Something’s wrong.” Without waiting a beat longer, Bridget raced across the field, frustrated that the fabric of her long dress tangled around her legs, slowed her down. She reached the woman, and another shock surged through her system.
“Katy!” Bridget’s childhood friend was panic-stricken, jostling a toddler in her arms. The child’s eyes were wide and her face was red. She was cramming her fist down her throat. Without waiting for permission, Bridget tugged the toddler from her mother’s arms. “Did she have something in her mouth?”
“She had a handful of grapes. She was fussing. I thought the grapes would help her settle down.” The Amish woman clasped her hands together and pressed them to her lips.
With tunnel-like focus, Bridget set the toddler on her feet and knelt down behind her. She gently leaned her forward, supporting her with one arm, and gave a solid back blow with the other. It didn’t work. “Come on, little one.” She tried again and again. On the third blow, the little girl threw up and then let out the most terrified cry. The child’s arms swung up, reaching for her mother.
Bridget sat back on her heels and sagged with relief. Thank You, God. Zach placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. For the briefest of moments, she had forgotten he was there.
The commotion drew a few of the elders out of the barn. Bridget’s heart stuttered when she recognized the bishop, silently taking in the situation.
Katy wept openly. She clung to her little girl and she held out her hand toward Bridget. “You saved my baby. Denki, denki, denki.”
The bishop met Bridget’s gaze. If he was grateful or impressed, he didn’t show it.
Mrs. Yoder ran out of the barn holding a smaller child. “What happened?”
“The baby was choking.” Katy cupped her toddler’s face and drew her to her chest and rocked back and forth, the relief evident on her pretty face.
“Oh...” Mrs. Yoder patted her granddaughter’s head. She seemed to take note of the bishop. “Everything’s okay. Please go back in. I’ll tend to my daughter and granddaughter.”
“Take the child to the house to get some water,” the bishop said and turned with the others and went back to the barn.
“Come on,” Bridget said. “I’ll take you inside.”
The toddler lifted her head and smiled through her tears. Bridget gently wiped a tear away from the little girl’s cheek. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Gracie.” Katy smiled.
“Well, let’s go get Gracie something to drink.” Bridget met Zach’s gaze. He nodded, and a small smile played on her lips.
Being proud wasn’t a familiar trait of the Amish, and it wasn’t one Bridget was used to. Right now, she was grateful she had been in the right place at the right time.
As they walked toward the house beside her childhood best friend, Zach leaned in and whispered, “You did great.”
Bridget tipped her head. “If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else.”
“Don’t downplay what you did. That young mother left the barn because she didn’t want her child to disrupt the service. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t been here?” He gently placed his hand on the small of her back, directing her toward the house.
She shifted to say something to Zach, but then she saw her father lurking near the door of the barn like a storm cloud blowing in on the horizon.
* * *
Bridget settled Katy with Gracie in her lap on a rocker on the back porch and got them a drink of water. Mrs. Yoder stayed inside with the baby. Zach had disappeared. Bridget wondered why he hadn’t said goodbye. She shoved aside the hint of disappointment and crouched down in front of her friend. She reached out to touch the toddler’s bonnet string. “She’s beautiful.” She smiled up at her friend. “She has your eyes.”
Katy pressed her cheek to her daughter’s. “She has her father’s feet.” Her friend giggled, reminding Bridget of their childhood days.
“Did you marry Levi Shetler?”
Katy’s cheeks turned pink. “Yah. You know Moses Lapp came back.”
“He came back? From where?” Bridget fidgeted with Gracie’s shoelace, then stood up and leaned back on the railing. Moses had been courting Bridget at the time she left Hickory Lane. He was a popular boy, and she’d assumed he’d move on to the next girl without missing a beat. After all, that was five years ago.
“Shortly after you left, he left, too. I thought you knew.” She lowered her voice. “I guess you wouldn’t.”
“Where’d he go?” Curiosity got the best of her.
“There’s a few rumors.” Katy smiled with a flash of mischief in her eyes, then grew subdued. “I shouldn’t repeat gossip.” She wrapped her arms around Gracie, who was drifting off to sleep. “Liddie never mentioned him?” Bridget wrote off the odd lilt to her voice as the strain between two friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long time.
“No, she never mentioned him,” Bridget said. Moses had hung with the wilder crowd in Hickory Lane, but that was all relative. Everyone figured Bridget would have a calming presence after he started taking her home after the Sunday singings. “Is he married?” Bridget asked when the awkward silence had taken on a life of its own.
“Neh. I heard—”
“Are you going to come in and help or what?” Liddie appeared suddenly on the other side of the screen door. She had slipped out of the service to help with the final preparations for the meal.
Bridget ran her palms down her cape. “I’m coming.” She smiled at her friend. “Sorry, I have to go.”
Katy reached out and touched Bridget’s wrist. “Are you happy?”
Bridget frowned. “It’s been a little stressful lately. I’m not sure how much you know.” The Amish way of communication was old-fashioned but no less effective. When Katy didn’t say anything, Bridget added, “I am happy.”
“That’s great.” The positive sentiment sounded forced.
“Are you happy?” Even though Katy had been the first to ask, Bridget was genuinely curious. Katy was living the life that Bridget had given up. She was twenty-five. Married. And a mother. Other than her age, Bridget no longer had anything in common with her friend.
“I am happy.” Katy hugged her daughter tight. “I can’t thank you enough for helping Gracie.”
Bridget squeezed the little girl’s foot. “I’m glad I was there.”
“Me too,” Katy said. She straightened her daughter’s dress over her socked foot. “I did hear the rumors about you. Does this mean you might be coming home?” The hope in her friend’s voice broke her heart.
“Classes start next week. I’m going to be a nurse in nine months.”
Katy paused a moment, as if reflecting, then said, “You’re going to make a wonderful nurse, but I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“I need help in here,” Liddie called again, this time from deeper in the kitchen.
“One more thing...” Katy pressed her daughter’s head to her chest and covered her ear. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“I didn’t want to get you into tro
uble. I had to do it on my own.” Bridget straightened. “You understand.”
Katy kissed the top of her daughter’s bonnet. “I do. I wished we could have talked about it.”
“Bridget!” Liddie called again, this time with an edge of impatience.
Across the lawn, a sea of black clothes spilled out of the barn. The service was over. “You couldn’t have talked me out of it.”
Her friend looked up at her with wide eyes, as if Bridget had uncovered her darkest worry. That she hadn’t recognized that her friend was unhappy and hadn’t done something to make her want to stay. Bridget touched Katy’s shoulder. “I need to go before Liddie short-sheets my bed.”
Katy laughed. “Go. And promise me you’ll come by before you leave next time.”
“I will.” Bridget slipped inside the door. Liddie was nowhere to be seen.
“Everyone okay?” Zach appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Yes.” Especially now that Bridget realized Zach was still here. She peeled the foil off a dish. The sweet smell of red peppers and olive oil made her stomach growl.
“Need help?” Zach asked.
“I thought you wanted to blend in.”
He furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding.
“You can’t blend in if you hang out in the kitchen.” She lifted one skeptical eyebrow. Was this his idea of working undercover? “Go outside and find my grandfather. He’ll be happy to share a meal with you.”
“I will.” Zach stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I made a few phone calls. We can get you back inside your apartment to grab a few things. Looks like the fire department did a good job.”
Bridget spun around and, in her excitement, she stumbled forward and planted her hands on his chest. He placed his hands on her hips to steady her, then quickly dropped them to his side.
The sound of someone clearing his throat drew their attention. Her father stood in the doorway. “I will not tolerate your being disrespectful under my roof.”
Bridget’s face burned from embarrassment. “I wasn’t... I didn’t...” She bowed her head and turned around and fussed with the cling wrap covering a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I should probably set out the food.”
