Steadfast Mercy

by Ruth Reid

  Sadie’s queries continued, though many he couldn’t answer. Daed wasn’t someone who talked freely about personal matters, especially about his health.

  Caleb stopped the buggy next to the porch and Sadie climbed out, taking her medical bag with her. He tied Nutmeg to the hitching post. He wanted the horse ready in case he had to go down the road to their Englisch neighbor’s house and call for an ambulance.

  Entering through the back door, he overheard Daed fussing about all the attention. Mamm was insisting he let Sadie look him over. Caleb put the kettle on the stove. Going into the sitting room now would only agitate his father more since he’d been the one to fetch Sadie.

  It wasn’t long before Sadie and his mother came into the kitchen.

  Caleb stood. “How is Daed?”

  “His blood pressure is somewhat elevated,” Sadie said. “But more alarming was how low his sugar has dropped.”

  Mamm poured a large glassful of milk. “Is this too much?”

  “Nay, that’s gut,” Sadie said. “I’d give him a kichlin and maybe some nuts if you have them.”

  Caleb removed a cookie from the jar as his mother searched for nuts in the cabinet. “Do you think his blood sugar dropping was what caused him to black out?”

  “I’m sure it made him disoriented and dizzy. He might have blacked out from falling and hitting his head.”

  “Sadie thinks he might have a concussion,” Mamm added.

  “What does that mean? Should we take him to the hospital?”

  “He won’t geh,” Mamm said over her shoulder as she left the kitchen with the snacks.

  Sadie pulled a chair out from the table and sat. “After he’s eaten, I’ll recheck his sugar and we’ll go from there.”

  “What about the concussion?”

  “You’ll need to monitor him throughout the nacht to check for any mental change in his condition. If his headache worsens, you should get him to the doktah.”

  Chapter 21

  Caleb yawned as he poured a mug of morning coffee. He and his mother had spent the night taking turns waking up his father every few hours to make sure he was okay. None of them got much sleep.

  Daed lumbered into the kitchen, his hair matted and the area under his eyes darkened and puffy from lack of sleep.

  “How are you feeling, Daed?”

  “Better.” He turned to his side and coughed into his fist, then took a half second longer to steel his pinched expression before he turned back to Caleb.

  “You look like you could use this.” Caleb handed him the mug of coffee he’d just poured.

  “Danki.” Daed took a seat at the table.

  Caleb filled another mug and joined his father. “How many head of cattle do you want separated from the herd?”

  “At least a dozen. That should help lower the feed bill over the winter. We’ll keep the calves, their mamms, and most of the two- and three-year-olds. The older ones can geh. They weigh the most so they’ll also bring in the most money at auction.”

  “True.” Caleb took a drink. “Are you able to recall what happened last nacht?”

  “You waking me up every minute to ask what month it is?”

  “Before that. What happened in the pasture?”

  “I was coaxing the herd in from the back pasture with a load of hay when Red started to limp. I had to move him away from the cattle in order to inspect his hooves. I started to get dizzy and—” Daed shrugged. “I must have bent down too fast.”

  “Sadie said your blood sugar was low. I think you blacked out. I found you at the edge of the woods. In the bushes.”

  Daed stood and took his mug to the sink. “Are you going to sit and drink kaffi all day or help me bring in the herd?”

  “Are you sure you feel up to it today?”

  “It’s gotta be done.”

  Caleb had learned years ago not to argue with his father. He slugged the remainder of his coffee in a couple of gulps as he went to the sink. To chase the burning sensation, he filled the mug with cold tap water and chugged that as well.

  Daed put on his boots. He’d said he wanted to get going early, but that was before everything happened last night. He was moving around stiffly and yet seemed to be in more of a rush than usual.

  Caleb shoved his foot into his boot and laced it up. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to doing this?”

  “I’ve already made arrangements with Jack. I can’t cancel nau.”

  “We don’t have to cancel. I can bring them in from the field and get them loaded. You don’t have to—”

  “You’re nett—”

  “Peter. I know. Every day I’m reminded. I’m nett Peter.” Caleb swiped his coat off the hook. “I’ll be out in the barn.”

  Caleb strode across the yard. “I’ll never be enough. I don’t know why I try.” He entered the barn and grabbed a bridle and saddle from the tack room. It wasn’t until he finished spouting off every ill thought he’d stored since his brother’s death, that he finally realized he just needed to pray.

  “This is all out of mei hands, Lord. I guess all this time You’ve been waiting for me to admit the truth. I’ll never measure up to Peter in mei daed’s eyes. Help me to accept that and move forward. Help me understand what he’s going through. He lost his sohn . . . Peter took his own life—the very breath You gave him.”

  Caleb slumped against a nearby post. “It’s so hard nett knowing if he’s with You. When he came back home, I thought he’d changed, that he’d given his heart to serving You.”

  Light flooded the area as Daed entered the barn. He went into the equipment room and grabbed the other saddle.

  Caleb took his gear into the stall and began to saddle Jet, Peter’s roping horse that he’d trained himself. Jet was a spitfire, and coupled with not being ridden in a while, he would be a handful to control. But Caleb was determined—admittedly for the wrong reason. He wanted to prove himself to his father.

  Daed stopped in front of the stall Caleb was in. “You going to ride him?”

  “No reason nett to.” He tightened the quarter horse’s cinch. “The horse will get fat and lazy if he isn’t exercised.” Besides, Peter wasn’t coming back. The horse needed to either be used or sold.

  Daed continued into the adjoining stall, mumbling something about a pounding headache and the need to get the roundup over.

  With the cattle already moved to the front pasture, Caleb decided he could bring them into the corral alone. He led Jet out from the barn, mounted him, and reined him toward the pasture. Once through the gate, Caleb increased knee pressure into the horse’s sides, urging Jet into a gallop.

  The cutting horse assumed his role without much direction from Caleb. It didn’t take much effort to get the herd moving toward the barn. Peter had been a better horse trainer than people had given him credit for. Of course, when Daed recognized his talent, he pushed him toward training buggy horses and opening a blacksmith shop, which Peter wasn’t interested in doing. He had returned home though he still talked about leaving Posen. Daed and Peter’s blacksmith disagreement was how Peter ended up in construction working for Caleb.

  In hindsight the biggest mistake Caleb made was hiring his brother. It was dangerous enough to be on a metal roof or suspended multiple stories high working off homemade scaffolding, but putting one’s trust in a disgruntled laborer was a disaster waiting to happen, which Caleb discovered the hard way.

  Daed galloped his horse toward Caleb. “I’ll take the right and you come in from the center and we’ll separate the herd.” He immediately galloped away, cracking the bullwhip and sending part of the herd stampeding a different direction for Caleb to work.

  Caleb found the use of a bullwhip unnecessary. A stampeding herd was more unpredictable and therefore more dangerous, but he couldn’t convince his father that waving his hat and making noise worked just as well. With the older cattle split from the herd, he drove them into the corral.

  Jack, the Englisch livestock hauler, was in the process of b
acking the trailer up to the gate. Between Daed cracking the bullwhip and Jack’s backup alarm, the cattle grew increasingly agitated, moving in circles.

  “Watch the fence, Caleb!” Daed yelled.

  Some of the steers had rammed themselves up against the rail and the entire structure was bending. Caleb heeled Jet and the horse leapt into action. Riding alongside the fence, Caleb spotted a young calf, who’d gotten separated from his mother, caught between the bars, bawling. With the calf about to get trampled by the larger steers, Caleb wedged Jet between them. Then another sharp crack of the bullwhip spooked the herd and they shifted suddenly. Jet’s abrupt sidestepping motion threw Caleb off balance. Hurled from the saddle, he landed first on the back of a steer, then onto the ground.

  “Caleb!”

  His foot lost traction in the mud as he tried to stand. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Moving hooves were everywhere he looked. He noticed a break in the herd, then the legs of Daed’s horse.

  Caleb scrambled to his feet, and shooting pain from his knee to hip almost brought him back down. He took a chance and dove for the fence. Landing hard on his ribs, it was all he could do to push himself over the rail. He dropped on the ground outside the corral and lay still a moment, taking inventory of what muscles and bones hurt.

  A shredding sensation tore at Caleb’s leg and sharp stabs stole his breath. He let out a cry as he pushed off the ground. Feeling a bit disoriented, he didn’t put together what was happening. Why was Jack waving the herd toward the other side of the corral?

  Daed?

  Caleb vaulted toward his father, who was slumped over in his saddle, his face the color of snow.

  “Mei chest,” Daed said. “Pressure.”

  “Hold on.” He led his father’s horse to the gate, gently lifted him out of the saddle, and carried him outside the pen.

  “I’m sorry, sohn,” Daed said as Caleb lowered him to the ground.

  His phone to his ear, Jack jogged back to the gate. “I dialed 911.” He handed the phone to Caleb. “They need the address.”

  Caleb gave the woman their address and his father’s name and age. “I can’t talk any more. Mei father is nett responding.”

  Chapter 22

  Jonica placed the Mason jar of split pea soup in the cabinet with the other homemade soups. While waiting for Caleb to arrive to take her and Stephen into town, she had kept herself busy in the kitchen. She had cleaned out every cabinet, taken inventory of what canned goods her aunt had, and reorganized the contents in the cabinets. It passed the time. Too much time according to the wall clock.

  Two more hours had passed since they’d eaten lunch and still no Caleb. He had something he needed to do for his father, but shouldn’t he have given her an idea of how many hours the chore would take?

  How long was she expected to wait?

  The doctor’s office would close in a few hours. She glanced out the window. With the sun shining brightly, the snow appeared to be melting. A typical fall day. Cool but not cold. If Stephen dressed in multiple layers, he should be able to stay warm, even if the wind picked up. She would need to carry him most of the trip. He’d coughed all morning, and his forehead was hot when she put him down for his nap. Another reason to see the doctor or keep him inside where it was warm and wait for Caleb.

  She’d come to rely on Caleb for his emotional support, his friendship. A mistake. She should have known not to count on a Schulmann. She thought Caleb was different. That when Caleb gave his word, he kept it.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, but it did nothing to calm her anxious thoughts. Until she learned the results of Stephen’s tests, she would wear out the planks on the kitchen floor pacing, fretting, overwhelming her mind with endless possibilities.

  Where are you, Caleb?

  Lord, I don’t want to be alone when I receive the news. What if it’s bad news? How will Stephen and I manage? Jonica missed her parents, especially her mother who helped Jonica get through her pregnancy and delivery. When her entire world was falling to pieces, her mother had been there. Now Jonica had to be strong for Stephen. She was all her sohn had.

  Her morning devotional came to mind. “Seek the lord and his strength, seek his presence continually.” God’s strength would get them both through this time. She was wrong to count on Caleb. Just as she’d been wrong to think Peter would change. Lord, I will seek Your strength—Your presence continually. Jonica recited the passage again, this time meditating on each word.

  Someone knocked on the front door.

  Caleb! Jonica raced to the entry and swung the door open. “Ida.” She forced a smile, hoping to mask her disappointment. “How are you?”

  “Guder mariye, Jonica. I heard you were in town.” Ida Hosteller lifted the wicker basket she was holding. “I brought eggs.”

  “Please, kumm in.” She stepped aside, making room for Ida to pass. “Aenti Edna is in the sitting room.” Jonica closed the door. “I’ll let her know she has a visitor.”

  “Did I hear someone at the door?” Aenti rounded the corner to the entry. Her face brightened. “Ida, it’s gut to see you.”

  “I heard you had company staying with you.” She followed Edna into the kitchen. “So I thought you could use more eggs. I’m sure you’re thrilled having your bruderskind in town.”

  “I am.” Edna smiled at Jonica. “Mei bruderskind is a big help around here.”

  “I’m sure.” Ida removed the towel surrounding the eggs and transferred the eggs from her basket into a basket Aenti kept on the counter. “How long do you plan to stay, Jonica?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” She couldn’t help but think Ida was here to collect tidbits of news to tell the other curious women in the district, namely her best friend, Deborah Schulmann, Caleb’s mother. Had news also spread about Stephen?

  Aenti removed a jar stuffed with cash from the cabinet and pulled out a few bills she gave to Ida. “Jonica, would you mind making a fresh pot of kaffi?”

  “Don’t make any on mei account. I have a few other deliveries to make.” Ida looked at Jonica with a scrutinizing eye. “You’ll have to plan to bring Edna to the upcoming sewing frolic. It’s in a couple of weeks. I’m sure everyone would love to see you again.”

  “I don’t get out much anymore,” Edna said.

  Gut excuse, Aenti. Jonica smiled, relieved she was off the hook.

  “But I’m sure Jonica would enjoy attending the get-together. Wouldn’t you?”

  “We’ll see when the time is closer. I have to geh back to Cedar Ridge sometime.” Even if she didn’t mind being cornered by a bunch of well-wishing women, she couldn’t make any plans without knowing if something was wrong with her son. If he had any of the bleeding disorders described in the pamphlet.

  “If you’re nett able to kumm to the frolic, I hope to see you the Sunday after next at the Yoders’ haus. Melvin and Abigail are hosting the next Sunday meeting.”

  “We’ll be there,” her aunt said. “I’ll be sure to mark the date on mei calendar so we don’t miss out.”

  Jonica stayed in the kitchen while Aenti Edna walked Ida to the door. The moment she heard the location for the next Sunday service, she’d decided against attending. She’d figure out an excuse, some reason to avoid Darleen’s parents’ haus.

  “Seek the lord . . . Seek his presence continually.”

  Conviction closed Jonica’s eyes. I’m sorry, Lord. I’m more worried what people will say, how Stephen will be treated . . . being an outsider. Forgive me, God. I’ve already lost focus on You.

  A few minutes after Ida had left and Aenti returned to her knitting in the sitting room, Stephen shuffled into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “Ich slept gut.”

  Jonica smiled at the way he automatically answered before she had the chance to ask about his sleep.

  “I’m dorstig.”

  Jonica removed a small glass from the cabinet and filled it halfway with water. “It’s nice outside,” she said, handing him the glass. “I thought
we would walk into town.”

  He drained the glass and handed it back. “Can Caleb go with us?”

  “He’s busy today.”

  “What about Aenti Edna?”

  “I’ll find out if she’s up to making the trip while you use the restroom.” She didn’t want to have to stop at Yoder’s Market again to use their facilities. Especially after learning Caleb and Darleen were no longer courting. Her mother had always said it was best to keep trouble at arm’s length.

  Jonica sighed. Being back on the farm made her miss her parents even more. She had yet to provide her father’s death certificate to the courthouse in order to change ownership on the farm deed—the reason she’d returned to Posen.

  Jonica found Aenti in the sitting room working on her knitting project. “Stephen and I are going to walk into town. Do you feel up to joining us? I thought once I get into town I would arrange for an Englisch driver to take us to the courthouse in Rogers City to take care of the paperwork.”

  “Let’s do that another day. You did say you wanted to stay longer, jah?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Aenti lifted her finger. “I’m nett feeling up to doing any paperwork.” She lowered her knitting needles and picked up her mug. “Would you be a dear and add a little more kaffi to mei cup before you leave?”

  “Jah, no problem.”

  “Mr. Jordan would like some too. He takes cream in his.”

  Jonica glanced around the room, half expecting to find him sitting in the corner. But the Englischer wasn’t nearby. Had her aunt’s mind slipped to the point of seeing people? Was she imagining the redheaded stranger in the room? “Have you . . . talked with Mr. Jordan?”

  “We talk all the time.”

  “And he told you that he wanted kaffi?” Jonica swept the room with her gaze again.

  “If you’re looking for Mr. Jordan, he’s nett here.” Aenti Edna chuckled. “You must think mei mind has really slipped.”

  Jonica set the mug on the lamp table, then knelt beside her aunt’s rocker and reached for her hand. “Can I ask you a question?”