The Amish Midwife's Secret

by Rachel J. Good

  Had Mamm read her mind? Leah’s surprise must have shown on her face.

  Mamm smiled. “You glow when you talk about healing, and you’ve been an excellent nurse to me.”

  Oh, right. Mamm didn’t mean a trained nurse. Leah had misunderstood. But would Mamm understand if Leah confessed her longing? “Yes, I love training to be a midwife, and taking Esther’s place at the doctor’s office has been wunderbar.” She pushed aside the thought that some of the excitement included being around Kyle. She’d love the work, even if he weren’t there. But he made it even more special.

  “I can tell by the way your eyes shine.”

  What would Mamm think if she knew Leah’s glow also came from another source? “I sometimes wish…” No, she wouldn’t say that and hurt her mother.

  “You wish what?” Mamm wiped the last drips of dippy eggs from her plate with a piece of toast. Her eyes bored into Leah’s as she popped it into her mouth.

  With a quick head shake, Leah took the tray and prepared her mother for the morning massage.

  “It doesn’t hurt to dream,” Mamm said, as she lay facedown on the bed.

  That was a relief, because Leah had plenty of dreams, including one this morning she still struggled to shake off. She suspected Mamm wasn’t referring to those dreams. Maybe if she confessed some of the other longings in her heart, Mamm would give her some wise advice.

  “You’re right about me having dreams,” Leah said, but she hesitated to continue.

  Mamm’s quiet hmm? opened the floodgates, and words flooded out.

  “I enjoy learning all about herbs and making mixtures to help people, but I’d love to go on for more training. And not just with natural products. I can’t tell you how much I wish I could be a certified midwife. I’d also love to take nurse’s training.”

  Mamm lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder to meet Leah’s eyes.

  “I know, I know,” Leah said hastily. “It’s not right.”

  “It goes against the Ordnung.” The finality in Mamm’s voice chastened Leah.

  Leah hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Mamm set her head back on the pillow with a light groan. “Don’t ever be sorry for the dreams God has put in your heart. He must have a reason for them. Why not pray and ask Him to show you what He intends for you to do?”

  One thing Leah hadn’t done was pray about her desires. She had no idea how to pray about the feelings Kyle stirred in her, except to ask God to keep her from temptation. As for the rest, she’d hand them over to God.

  “Danke, Mamm. I’ll do that.” Leah moved quickly through the rest of the massage. “I have to hurry. Joel will be here soon.”

  Despite the tea she’d sipped earlier, Leah had to stop several times to suck in a breath and breathe through the worst of the pain.

  “Are you in pain?” Mamm asked.

  “I’ll be fine.” Leah had too much to do. She couldn’t give in. Last month she’d pushed Kyle’s suggestion about seeing a doctor to the back of her mind. She managed to cope during most of that week despite the pain. Today would be difficult, but she’d get through it, and the office was closed on Thursdays, so she’d have tomorrow off. Perhaps some of the aching would abate by Friday, and Esther would be back next week.

  Though it shouldn’t, the thought made her sad. She’d only see him a few more days, and then he’d head off. Maybe that was God’s answer to her dilemma about Kyle.

  After she’d settled Mamm in bed with tea and a snack for later, Leah interspersed packing a bag of food for Kyle with hugging a hot water bottle. She prepared a second bag for herself with some tea, a mug, a hot water bottle, and a spoonful of the supplement for after lunch. She hoped Esther wouldn’t mind her using the kitchen to heat water and prepare lunch as long as Kyle didn’t enter the house at the same time.

  When she reached the doctor’s office, Kyle hadn’t come out of the house yet, so she set his bag near the door and tucked hers under the roomy reception desk. Then she went into the file room to organize folders for that day’s patients. She’d just completed the first stack when the killer cramps began. She pressed against the waist-high counter and sucked in breaths.

  “Leah?” Kyle called. His footsteps passed the file room. Doors opened and closed farther down the hall. He called her name several times as he made his way up the hall. He must be peeking in every room.

  Exerting tremendous control, Leah sank onto the stool and turned her back to the door right before it clicked open. She gripped a file in a death grip, hoping she wouldn’t tear it.

  “Oh, there you are,” Kyle said. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

  “Sorry. I was…getting files.” Forcing out each word was agony.

  “I won’t stay in here with you, not after Esther’s lecture last night, but I saw the bag you set by the door. Should I put anything in the refrigerator?”

  Leah nodded. “I marked…everything.”

  “OK, I’ll take the bag into the kitchen.” He stepped into the hall. “You don’t have to make me meals, you know. But I really appreciate it.” He let the door swing shut, leaving her alone.

  What a blessed relief not to have to pretend. Leah clenched her teeth together until the worst of the interior explosions passed. Then she managed to stack up the afternoon files. Only three patients. That meant she’d have to leave early. If she’d been feeling normal, she’d be disappointed. Today she was grateful.

  By the time the first patient arrived, she’d walked to the desk and sat there with a hot water bottle concealed under a small knitted throw. She slipped them both onto the chair as she led patients back to the exam rooms. Several times she clutched at the doorjamb before entering a room or telling Kyle where the next patient was waiting. A few times, she winced just before she turned her back. Twice, while Kyle was checking someone, she went into the kitchen to heat water for herbal tea or to warm the water bottle.

  Right before lunchtime, she let Kyle know she planned to head into the house so he wouldn’t come in. She had filled both plates when another pain shot through her. She gripped the edge of the counter until it passed. Then she picked up the plates and staggered to the records room. Shakily, she placed the plates on the shelf beside the three files for the afternoon appointments.

  After the last patient left, she’d give Kyle his meal. He could have lunch in his office, and she’d eat at the reception desk. One good thing about Esther’s rule was that Kyle wouldn’t see her hunch over whenever the cramps came. Today they were much worse than usual.

  Red-hot stabbing radiated from her center and down her legs. Leah lowered herself onto the stool in the records room, her head woozy. Spots dotted the grayness floating past her eyes. She grabbed the counter and fought to keep her tilting world upright, but blackness closed around her.

  * * *

  A loud crash from the records room sent Kyle scurrying down the hall. No one should be in there. His last patient would be gone by now, and Leah had gone to the kitchen. He hoped nothing had fallen.

  He turned the knob, but when he tried to push open the door, he met resistance. Whatever had fallen now blocked the door. Kyle pictured huge stacks of file folders scattered on the floor. He didn’t want to risk dislodging more contents. How would they ever match everything up with the correct files? It would take hours of work.

  He inched the door as gently as he could until he could reach one hand through, and then he squatted down to push some of the files out of the way. Instead his hand encountered a warm body.

  Even though he was a doctor, Kyle recoiled. He forced himself to insert his hand again. Whoever was in there needed his help, but he had to move them away from the door.

  If only Leah hadn’t gone into the house to fix dinner. He could use her help.

  With one last push, he managed to create an opening wide enough to fit through. He squeezed into the room and groaned.

  Leah lay on the floor. What had happened? Kyle knelt beside her. Her breathing was slow but
rhythmic. He felt for her pulse. Normal. To be on the safe side, he reached for the stethoscope around his neck. Her steady heartbeat reassured him. She must have fainted. And he was pretty sure he knew why.

  * * *

  Gentle hands lifted her head. Limp and boneless, Leah allowed the hands to push and pull her into position. Everything around her remained foggy. Her thoughts floated in the air around her, detached, muddled, vague.

  As if from a distance, a familiar voice flowed around her, much too slippery to catch or understand. A man. Calling her name over and over.

  She drifted through the ether toward the sound. Pinpricks of light pierced her eyelids, stinging her eyes. And her back hurt. As if she were bent in two. Her head dangled down. Arms wrapped around her, supporting her.

  “Leah,” the voice whispered near her ear. Her name echoed around her, growing fainter and fainter until it disappeared in the haze.

  If only she could stay in this place forever. Cocooned in softness. Warm and comforted.

  “Can you hear me?” The deep voice vibrated the air around her.

  She wanted to turn toward it, but her limp muscles refused to cooperate. Her mouth, stuffed full of cotton wool, remained slack, but deep in her throat, a gargled groan escaped.

  “Are you all right?” Kyle’s face floated in front of her.

  If he’d keep supporting her, she would be.

  She drifted closer to the surface. Broke free from the murky depths. Her head ached. Her eyes burned. And the pain that had sent her into oblivion returned with a vengeance. She clutched at her stomach. A moan pushed through rubbery lips.

  Kyle squatted in front of her. “Are you in pain?”

  Could she reach out and smooth that frown from his face? But where were her hands, and why didn’t they work? Why was she on the floor? Nothing made sense. Waves of nausea swept over her, and she closed her eyes again.

  “I’m taking you to the hospital. You need to see a specialist.” Kyle’s tone brooked no argument. “I’m going to leave you for a minute, but I’ll be right back.”

  Leah tried to protest, but he set a gentle hand on her head to keep her from getting up. “I need to cancel the afternoon patients and lock up.” Then he let go of her and stood.

  Leaning over, he slid the files from the counter far above her head. “And I’ll put our lunch in the refrigerator for later.” Plates clinked together before the door clicked closed behind him.

  Time oozed past until the door creaked open. Through blurry eyes, she noted he’d donned a coat and carried a fluffy afghan. He knelt beside her to wrap her in cloudlike softness. Then he lifted her. Cradled in his arms, Leah leaned her head against his chest the way she had in her dreams.

  Was she still dreaming? If she was, she never wanted to wake up.

  Though he cushioned her from shocks, each stride he took bounced her on a wave, and her insides followed the motion. After he maneuvered her through the door, an icy chill seeped through the afghan. Tipping her closer to his chest and balancing her weight on his muscular forearms, he freed his fingers so he could bend to punch in the door code.

  She shivered and burrowed her face in the blanket as he crossed the parking lot, unlocked his car, and placed her on the backseat. His movements tender and gentle, he tucked the blanket around her before shutting the door.

  Her eyelids slid shut as the car purred down the roads, and she drifted off to sleep.

  Strong arms lifted her from the car and set her on her feet. “We’re at the hospital. Can you walk?”

  Freezing-cold winds slapped her face, blowing some of the mistiness from her mind. But a tsunami of pain washed over her, drowning her.

  Clinging to him and hiding her face against his chest, she staggered beside him through the doors. He seated her in a chair, and she clutched the metal chair arm to keep herself upright. Then he stepped away, leaving her alone and adrift in a tilting world.

  Through pain-glazed eyes, she followed his progress as he stood in line, inching closer to the desk. She longed for him to come back, to hold her.

  When he returned, he wrapped an arm around her, and she let her head sink onto his chest where the rapid staccato of his heart soothed her. She gasped as the pain crescendoed, then ebbed.

  “I’m so sorry. I should have given you something for the pain.” His voice tight and angry, he muttered, “I don’t know what I was thinking. This is why doctors should never treat family and friends.”

  “It’s…all right.” Her voice came out so whispery weak Kyle leaned closer to hear her, and his cheek brushed the top of her head. If it weren’t for the knife carving out her insides, she’d be in pure bliss.

  “My kapp.” She lifted a hand to straighten it.

  “It’s fine,” he assured her, and the low rumble of the words in his chest sent tingles through her.

  “Leah, before they call us back, I need to know: Did you do what I asked you to do last time I was here? Did you see a doctor or a specialist?”

  Leah was so focused on the rise and fall of his chest it took a while for his questions to register. “No,” she finally admitted.

  He sighed. “Would it be all right if I come back with you? I won’t stay for the exam. I’ll just tell them what I suspect.”

  She didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arms, so she bobbed her head up and down slightly.

  When their turn came, Kyle assisted her down the hall, spoke to the doctor, and turned to her. “I’ll wait for you right out here.”

  The doctor called Kyle in after the exam, and the rest of Leah’s visit passed in a blur, with the doctor scheduling tests and scans with names Leah barely recognized. She left with a prescription and a laparoscopy appointment with a specialist Kyle had contacted.

  Kyle helped her to the car. “I’ll take you home, but our first stop will be the pharmacy. You will take the pills they prescribed, won’t you?”

  Too groggy to argue, Leah nodded. She’d take them only if the pain got too bad to cope. “What were the tests the doctor insisted on?”

  “They did an ultrasound and MRI to rule out other reasons for your pain, but a laparoscopy’s the only way to check for endometriosis.”

  He was pretty sure that would confirm his diagnosis.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kyle had just finished washing his breakfast dishes on Friday morning when a car rattled into the driveway. He recognized the engine and hurried to the window to pull back the curtain. He’d been right. Joel’s car.

  He rushed from the house and hurried down the office hallway to the side door. He yanked open the door as her brother drove off. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  At the gruffness of his voice, she stepped back a few paces. “Don’t you want me?” She sounded close to tears.

  Of course he wanted her. More than she’d ever know. “You should be home resting.”

  “I’m taking the painkillers. I should be fine.” She was carrying a large bag.

  “Let me get that.” He hurried across the parking lot and took the handles of the bag. “You need to stop worrying about my meals. As much as I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I’d much rather you take care of yourself.”

  The sweet smile Leah gave him set his heart thumping. “I can’t bear to think of you…or anyone…eating leftovers or fast food all the time. You work hard so you deserve healthy meals.”

  Kyle shook his head. She always thought of other people rather than herself. He had to find a way to take care of her in return. He pushed aside the desire to extend that care far into the future. He had other plans that didn’t include small towns and an Amish girl. But as hard as he tried to focus on big-city hospitals and fellowships, his attention—and his heart—kept being drawn back to Leah. When he moved on, he’d have a hard time getting her out of his mind.

  Concentrate on the work, he warned himself as he opened the door for her. She brushed past him, and electricity jolted through him. Keeping focused on the job would be difficult. As much as he
disliked Esther’s rule, it would protect them both from his growing attraction.

  As she preceded him down the hall, Kyle hefted the bag into his arms, wishing he could replace it with Leah’s softness. When they reached the waiting room, he cleared his throat. “I’ll, um, just take this into the kitchen and put everything away.”

  Leah reached for the bag. “Let me do it.”

  “Absolutely not.” Kyle moved the bag out of her reach. “You will sit at that desk and relax. I’m sure I can figure out where everything goes.”

  “Most of it’s marked,” she admitted.

  He smiled when he reached the kitchen and pulled out the containers. Small notes had been taped to the top of each dish, indicating whether it belonged in the refrigerator or on the counter. Had she anticipated he’d insist on doing it? His dinner casserole had cooking instructions on top. He lifted the foil to peek. Ham chunks in scalloped potatoes with onions and peas. It smelled delicious even cold. He could hardly wait to inhale the aroma while it baked.

  Once he’d sorted everything, he headed back out to the office. When he reached the reception area, the desk stood empty. Where is Leah?

  His mind immediately flew to Wednesday, when he found her crumpled on the file room floor. He rushed to that door and eased it open in case she was lying behind it.

  “Kyle? Are you all right?” Leah looked up from the files she’d arranged into two neat stacks. “You look a bit sickish.”

  Kyle clenched the doorknob, waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal. Or as close to normal as it could be whenever he looked at her. “I’m sorry. I panicked when you weren’t at the desk. I pictured you collapsed in here, the way I found you the other day.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Leah’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “I also need to apologize for all the trouble I caused.”

  “It wasn’t a problem. I’m used to dealing with emergency situations.” And holding her close would have been wonderful if he hadn’t been so concerned about her. He’d spent the long, lonely evening last night remembering her in his arms.