Steadfast Mercy

by Ruth Reid

  “Anything, dear.”

  “Does Mr. Jordan have anything to do with your decision to sell the farm? Is he the one who wants to buy it? Because he’s been awfully interested in the property.”

  Aenti shook her head. “As he would tell you himself if he was here, Posen is nett his home. He’s just passing through.”

  “Then who’s the man who wants to buy the farm?”

  Aenti lowered her head. “I received a letter in the mail from someone who buys houses. I hadn’t contacted them, but I thought if you had a reason to kumm home . . . you might . . . stay. I know I was wrong. Will you forgive me?”

  “I’ll forgive you, but you need to tell Caleb. He’s been worried too. He put time and money into the fields. And what about your going to live with Aenti Mary Anna?”

  “That was true. She needs help. But . . .” Aenti’s eyes turned watery. “I know mei mind isn’t what it used to be. I’m forgetting things. I wouldn’t be much help.”

  “You’re a help to me with Stephen.” Jonica gave her aunt’s hand a squeeze, then reached for the hankie on the lamp table and handed it to her. “If I make you an appointment with Dr. Mallory, would you go? Maybe he can prescribe medicine or recommend things you can do to help your memory.”

  “It’s part of aging. Something I have to accept.”

  “I’m still going to make you an appointment.” Before her aunt could object, Jonica grabbed her mug from the table and went into the kitchen.

  Stephen tottered into the kitchen. “I’m ready.” His coat wasn’t fastened and his boots were on the wrong feet.

  “Wait for me at the door,” she said, refilling Aenti’s mug. “I’ll only be a minute.” Jonica prepared a mug for Mr. Jordan to appease her aunt but left it in the kitchen. She set Aenti’s mug on a wooden coaster on the table next to her chair. “Mr. Jordan’s mug is on the kitchen counter.” Where it would probably still be when she returned.

  “Danki, dear. I’ll see you when you get back from town.”

  “We shouldn’t be too long.” Jonica went to the door and chuckled when she discovered Stephen putting his mittens on the wrong hands. “Let me help.” She switched the mittens, his boots, fastened his coat, then readied herself for going outside.

  As they stepped onto the porch, she spotted Mr. Jordan pulling a little red wagon. She eyed what appeared to be the same wagon she’d left along the side of the road. The one with a broken wheel. “Is that . . . ?”

  Mr. Jordan nodded. “I thought you might want it back.”

  “How did you know where I’d left it? I looked for it on mei way home from town, but it was gone.” She inspected the wagon. “You fixed the wheel?”

  “It wasn’t difficult.”

  Stephen tugged on Jonica’s cloak. “Can I ride in it?”

  Mr. Jordan offered her the handle. “I think you’ll find it easier to pull. I made a few adjustments.”

  Jonica was still confused. Had Mr. Jordan been following her into town? How else would he have known where she’d left the wagon?

  “Can I, Mamm?”

  “I believe young Stephen is ready to go,” Mr. Jordan said.

  This wasn’t the time to debate, even with herself, how the man had come upon the wagon—or the parts to fix the wheel. She needed to get into town before the doctor’s office closed. “Jah, Stephen, go ahead and get in. You can ride.” Jonica looked over at the Englischer, his amber eyes flickering in the sunlight. “Danki, Mr. Jordan.”

  He nodded. “My pleasure.”

  Jonica pulled the wagon a few feet immediately noticing the difference. The wheels went through the soft ground without a problem, and she couldn’t even tell Stephen was in the wagon, though it wasn’t as though he weighed a lot. Excited with the changes Mr. Jordan had made, she turned the wagon around and went back to where the Englischer was standing. “I’m nett sure what adjustments you made”—she rolled the wagon back and forth—“but you definitely made it easier to pull. Danki again.”

  “My pleasure. And, Jonica, don’t be discouraged when you’re at the doctor’s office. Remember what the Word of the Lord teaches. ‘Seek the lord and his strength, seek his presence continually.’”

  Dumbfounded that Mr. Jordan had recited the exact verse she had read earlier during her morning devotions, she simply nodded.

  “Go in peace,” he said.

  “And you as well.” She headed toward town. Her thoughts twisted. She hadn’t even told her aunt why she was going into town. How did Mr. Jordan know about the doctor?

  * * *

  Jonica signed Stephen in at the front desk, then took a seat in the doctor’s lobby.

  “Mamm.” Tears collected on Stephen’s long lashes. “Is it going to hurt?”

  “Nay, I think Dr. Mallory is only going to look at your hand and make sure it’s healing.”

  Stephen fidgeted on the chair. “Why didn’t Caleb kumm with us?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I’m sure he would be here with you if he could.”

  The door to the exam area opened and the nurse called Stephen’s name. Jonica reached down and took her son’s hand.

  “I’m scared,” Stephen whimpered.

  She gathered him into her arms. Lord, please, calm our fear like You calmed the stormy sea. Jonica followed the nurse into the examination room and sat on the chair with Stephen on her lap.

  The nurse motioned to Stephen’s hand. “Are we seeing Stephen for a dressing change today?”

  Jonica nodded. “He also had blood work drawn on Friday, and I was told the results might be in today. Also, before I forget, can I make an appointment for mei aenti? She’s having problems with her memory.”

  “I’ll let the desk clerk check for availability for your aunt while I see if the results are in for Stephen. But first, let’s get your temperature.” She asked Stephen general questions about his hand pain as she swiped his forehead with the digital thermometer.

  Jonica waited until the nurse entered the information in the computer. “Does Stephen have a fever? He was warm earlier when I put him down for his nap.”

  “What was his temperature?”

  Jonica shook her head. “He wasn’t boiling up, so I didn’t take it.”

  “It’s a little elevated: 100.3. Let’s take a look at your hand.”

  Jonica came up beside the nurse as she unwrapped the bandage. The stitched area was red. “Does it look infected to you?”

  “I think it’s healing nicely.” She tossed the old bandage in the trash can. “Dr. Mallory will be in shortly to check him out.”

  Stephen rotated his hand. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “That’s gut news.” Jonica combed her fingers through his thick brown hair. Now all she needed to hear was that her worry had been for nothing. That her boy’s blood tests were normal and everything was fine.

  “Am I going to get a treat?” Stephen asked.

  “After the doktah checks you over.”

  Stephen coughed, then touched his hand to his throat, and made a face when he swallowed.

  “Does your throat hurt?”

  He shrugged, which told her it did. Hopefully the office visit wouldn’t take long and they could get back home before the sun went down. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Four o’clock. It didn’t give them much time. It was getting dark around six. Jonica was busy planning out the supper meal in her mind when Dr. Mallory entered the room.

  “Hello.” Dr. Mallory smiled. “How is our young man doing today?”

  “Gut,” Stephen said. “Can I geh nau?”

  “You haven’t given me a chance to check your hand yet. What’s the hurry?”

  “I’m going to get a treat.” Stephen peered up at Jonica. “Right, Mamm?”

  “After Dr. Mallory is done.”

  “Then we’d better get right to it.” The doctor examined Stephen’s hand, then turned to Jonica. “I think his hand looks great. He’ll have a scar, but that’s unavoidable.”

  “What kind of a scar
?” Stephen asked.

  “Just a small one. It’ll fade with time.”

  Jonica wasn’t concerned about scarring. “So, it’s nett infected?”

  “No, the redness is normal. It’ll start to scab over in the next day or two. Unless it starts weeping, and I don’t expect it to, I wouldn’t worry about it. Continue to keep it clean. Limit the amount of activity, but you should be able to leave the bandage off.”

  “What about the blood tests? Have the results kumm back?”

  Dr. Mallory motioned to Tammy, his nurse. “Would you take Stephen to the nurse’s desk and let him pick out a sticker?”

  Jonica’s heart pounded hard against her chest. Was the news bad—life-threatening? Why else would Dr. Mallory send Stephen out of the room? Stay calm. Deep breath in—and out. Her lungs were still tight. Suffocating. Self-talk wasn’t helping either. The bushel of questions feeding her mind was creating a whirlwind of panic.

  “Can I, Mamm?”

  “What?” She shook her head to dislodge the negative thoughts. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I wasn’t listening.” Her son was sick—possibly dying—and she wasn’t listening. Great mother.

  “Pick out a sticker?” He reached for her hand. “Can I?”

  “Dr. Mallory and I need a few minutes to talk.” Lord, don’t let Stephen see me upset. I don’t want to frighten him. She cleared her throat. “Jah, sweetie, it’s okay.” She lifted him off the examination bench and was about to set him down when he sneezed. Blood sprayed her face, the front of her dress.

  “Mamm! What’s wrong with me?” Clots of blood gushed from both nostrils, running down his face, neck, and soaking into his shirt.

  “Let’s get him back on the bench,” Dr. Mallory said. “Tammy, I’ll need a silver nitrate stick.”

  Stephen wrapped his arms around her neck and clung tightly. Sobbing hysterically, he refused to let go.

  “The doktor needs to take a look at you.” Jonica steeled her voice when she wanted to break down and cry right along with him. “What’s wrong with mei sohn? Why is he bleeding like this?”

  Chapter 23

  Jonica’s world fragmented into a million pieces when Dr. Mallory couldn’t stop Stephen’s bleeding in the office. It all happened in a blur. An ambulance was called to shuttle him to the hospital, then when they arrived, a team of nurses held him down as another staff member gave him a sedative—then something unexpected happened. Stephen’s eyes rolled back into his head.

  Blood was everywhere.

  Jonica stood at the head of the stretcher, machines beeping around her. “What’s wrong with mei sohn? Stephen, talk to me!”

  Overhead pages summoned others for help. Within seconds Jonica was crowded away from Stephen, to the corner of the room. Still dazed, she didn’t notice someone putting their arms around her shoulders or being turned toward the door.

  “We’ll take good care of him,” one of the trauma nurses said as she guided Jonica out of the examination room.

  The door closed, separating her from Stephen. She should have fought to stay in the room. Her son needed her.

  A woman dressed in gray slacks and a frilly rose-colored blouse approached Jonica with a clipboard.

  The woman’s mouth was moving, but Jonica couldn’t hear anything but garbled words. Focusing on the woman’s lips, everything else blurred. Her ears rang. As if things were happening in slow motion, someone helped her into a wheelchair.

  She pointed at the room. “Mei sohn.”

  “The doctor is with him.”

  “I have to—” She pushed up from the wheelchair too fast, and the high-pitched winding noise in her ears returned. She sat back down.

  “I’ll have someone update you on your son’s progress as soon as possible. But for now, let’s give them a few more minutes to work on him, okay?”

  Jonica nodded.

  The worker held out the clipboard. “I have some paperwork for you to review and sign if everything is correct.” She went on to explain each consent form as Jonica scrawled her name on the blank lines.

  “How long before I can see mei sohn?”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.” The woman handed Jonica a piece of paper. “This is your copy of the Healthcare Information Privacy Act.”

  The office worker went on to explain what patient information they could and could not share, but Jonica wasn’t listening. Her only concern was Stephen.

  “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where the lobby is located.” The woman motioned to a door on her left marked Exit.

  “I should stay nearby in case Stephen needs me.”

  “He’s in good hands, Ms. Muller. The doctor will know to find you in the waiting room. We have to keep the hallway cleared.”

  Questions loomed. How could a simple nosebleed escalate to an ER visit? And why did the nurse want to send her out of the room?

  The woman cleared her throat, and when she obtained Jonica’s attention, she politely motioned to the door again. Jonica followed her to the lobby, where multiple clusters of seating areas made up the large room. She sat the farthest away from the television on a vinyl chair that had lost its firmness.

  Like a pot that never boiled, staring at the wall clock didn’t move the minute hand. Jonica prayed, watched the clock, then prayed some more.

  What seemed like hours later, a forty-something man wearing black scrubs and a long, white medical coat strode into the room. Jonica stood as he neared, then shook his hand.

  “I’m Dr. Rumflin, the ER physician taking care of your son.”

  “How is Stephen?”

  “I was able to cauterize the bleeding. He’s stable at the moment.”

  “At the moment? Do you think if Stephen sneezes he will start bleeding again?”

  “There’s a possibility. I’ve arranged for him to be admitted, and for Dr. Yarbrough, a hematologist, to consult. Your son’s blood counts are low, which could indicate a deeper problem. Has he had any recent injuries, falls?”

  “Nay.”

  “What about blood in his urine or stools?”

  “Nay.”

  “I’ve ordered a pint of blood to be administered; however, he may require a second.”

  “Will that make him better?” Her body trembled. She clasped her hands on her lap, but even holding them tight didn’t stop the quavering rocking her body.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Muller? Can I get you some water?”

  “Nay, thank you.” She looked up to meet the doctor’s gaze. “The blood you are giving him, will it make him well?”

  “It isn’t a cure. Blood replacement is more of a temporary fix. It provides more time to find the underlying problem. Dr. Yarbrough will be able to tell you more once he’s had the chance to review Stephen’s chart and examine him.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Yes, I’ll take you to him.”

  As they went through a set of doors marked For Authorized Personnel Only, the doctor explained, “His nose will be sore. I’ve ordered Tylenol for discomfort. The nurse will let you know when a room has been assigned. At that time he will be moved upstairs, and Dr. Yarbrough will take over care.”

  “Dr. Mallory in Posen ordered lab work last Friday.” She should have remembered sooner, but she’d been rushed out of the room so quickly that it hadn’t crossed her mind.

  “I believe Dr. Yarbrough has been in touch with Dr. Mallory, but you might want to mention it to Dr. Yarbrough when you see him.” He paused outside Stephen’s room. “Don’t be alarmed if he’s still groggy. He had to be sedated in order for me to cauterize his nose.”

  Jonica hurried to the side of the stretcher and reached for her son’s hand. “Stephen.” Her voice cracked. “It’s Mamm. Can you hear me?”

  Stephen’s eyelids barely opened, and his only reply was a whimper.

  “Stephen, sweetie, are you in pain?”

  His eyes closed.

  * * *

  Caleb sat opposite his mother next to his father’s hospital bed, w
here he’d been the last few hours, riddled with uncertainty and uselessness. He wrung his hands. He should have insisted on loading the cattle alone, especially after Daed’s dizzy episode last night. He should have seen that Daed wasn’t in good enough condition to be on horseback let alone working cattle. Caleb should have asked Gideon to help in his father’s place. But his father was set in his ways—ruled by stubbornness and pride.

  One of the machines at the head of the bed beeped repeatedly. A nurse came into the room, pressed a few buttons, and the noise stopped. She replaced the empty bag that hung on the IV pole with another bag, then checked the monitor that was recording his heart activity.

  “How is he?” Mamm asked.

  “His blood pressure and heart rate are within normal range, and the rhythm of his heart is stable. The medicine the doctor ordered seems to be working.”

  Mamm blotted her eyes with a hankie. “Why isn’t he waking up?”

  “He’s sedated. It’s important for his body to rest, especially over the next twenty-four hours.” The nurse repeated what the doctor had told them earlier. That even though Caleb’s father had suffered a mild heart attack, he wasn’t out of danger.

  The nurse smiled warmly at his mother. “It’s also important for the family members to rest as well. The cafeteria is open and if you’re interested, there’s a chapel on the first floor.”

  Mamm nodded, though Caleb doubted she would leave his father’s bedside any time soon. And understandably so, since they had never spent a day apart in the last thirty-some years. Still, there was nothing either of them could do—except wait. Caleb didn’t think she would heed the nurse’s suggestion, but maybe she would his. “Mamm, why don’t you take a break.”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather stay. You geh.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out her change purse. “Would you bring me back a cup of kaffi, please?”

  “Sure.” Every muscle fiber in his body screamed as he stood, reminding him of the time he’d carried enough lumber to cover fifteen-hundred square feet of floors up two flights of stairs.

  “What’s wrong, Caleb?”

  “I’m just stiff from sitting too long.” He went to stretch but recoiled as muscle spasms around his ribs sucked the wind out of him. Placing his hand against his rib cage, he buried a groan, then straightened to his full height. Aware he was under his mother’s watchful eye, he pivoted to face the door. “Do you want anything to eat?”