Leah’s face burned. She had made a fool of herself in front of everyone by running after Kyle, getting in the car alone with him. It would have been embarrassing enough if she’d done it in front of Ada or a few friends; instead, she’d humiliated Ben in front of more than two hundred wedding guests. What had she been thinking? Actually, she hadn’t been thinking about anything except comforting Kyle. And confessing.
“I’m sorry.” After she stammered out a lame excuse about not wanting Kyle to blame himself for the past, Ben’s questioning stare made her squirm inside.
His tone was calm and reasonable when he asked, “Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate for Emma or one of her family members to tell him that?”
Leah hung her head. “You’re right.” Actually, Emma had made that message quite plain. At least Ben hadn’t heard that part of the story. The men had been in the barn, but whoever alerted Caleb to Kyle’s presence must have let Ben know.
Ben waved a hand toward the basement steps. “We should get to the table, but we need to meet and discuss our relationship and our priorities. Why don’t I plan to stop by this week?”
“The week after would be better.”
“I’d rather settle this as soon as possible. Do you have plans for this week?”
“I, um, that is…” Leah did have plans, but she couldn’t tell Ben. The specialist she’d seen a couple of weeks ago confirmed Kyle’s diagnosis and scheduled surgery for this coming week. Esther had already agreed to take her place while she recuperated.
“Either you have plans, or you don’t.” Ben’s face darkened. “Unless you’d prefer not to tell me what you intend to do, which makes me wonder if those plans include Kyle.”
That she could answer truthfully. “Definitely not.” She hadn’t told Kyle about the surgery, and she’d asked Esther not to tell anyone except her husband. Mamm and Sharon were the only other ones who knew. “You have nothing to worry about with Kyle. He’s Englisch. Besides, he’ll be leaving in a few weeks for a big-city hospital.”
“And how do you know that?” Ben’s narrowed eyes made it seem as if he suspected she and Kyle shared personal secrets.
“He told the Hesses when we met with them last Saturday.”
“I see.” Some of the tension drained from his face. “Let’s hurry. We can discuss this when I stop by.”
Following the usual tradition, they filed in oldest to youngest. By weaving in and around people, she and Ben managed to slip in near their buddy bunch right before they headed downstairs. The youngie followed them. Leah’s cheeks flamed as she and Ben took their places at a table. How much of the low buzz of conversation around them was gossip about her?
Chapter Twenty-One
The haziness in the room slowly drifted into focus. A nurse bustled around checking the tube snaking from Leah’s arm. Her cheery patter barely registered while Leah struggled to shake off her grogginess.
The nurse’s instructions on how to use the PCA, a button to release pain medication, slid past Leah. Why would she need that? Nothing hurt while she floated along like this. She concentrated on the instructions.
“Don’t push that button if you’re sleepy,” the nurse said. “If the medication doesn’t help or you feel nauseous, push this button.”
Too many buttons. Too many instructions. What if she pushed the wrong button? She wanted to ask, but her mouth was too cottony to form sounds.
“Also check with us before you get up for the first time.” After a few more directives, the nurse headed out the door, leaving Leah alone in the room.
Leah dozed off and on for a while as nurses popped in and out to check on her. The empty bed beside the door made Leah wish for a roommate, someone she could talk to. If only Mamm were well enough to visit.
When the door opened, Leah turned to it, eager to have company. The surgeon entered and headed toward her bed.
“The surgery went well.” He described what he had removed and detailed the expected steps for her recovery. Most of the time rather than meeting her eyes, he read from the clipboard.
Leah followed along with his explanations. Studying to be a midwife had given her a good understanding of the terms he used, and she mentally pictured the diagrams in her textbooks. Then he dropped his bombshell.
“The surgery was more extensive than we anticipated. Unfortunately, there’s a good likelihood you may never have children.”
Leah lay stunned. He’d warned her before the surgery that it might be one possible outcome, but she’d been hoping and praying…
“You’re not ready to have children yet, are you?” When Leah shook her head, he said, “Too bad. You have a very narrow window of opportunity. To be on the safe side, I’d say a year. Maybe a little more.”
Courting Ben would most likely lead to marriage, but she and Ben hadn’t discussed their future together yet. Ben had hinted at it when he encouraged her not to be a midwife, but they’d made no commitments. Even if they did get engaged, most likely they wouldn’t get married until next year.
Her throat constricted, and she struggled to speak. “Only one baby?”
“I wouldn’t recommend more.” The rest of the doctor’s words faded to a stream of noise. Babbling that made no sense.
Leah focused on his mouth opening and closing, but her brain refused to translate the sounds into sentences. Once his lips stopped moving and he raised a questioning eyebrow, she nodded, hoping that was the correct response to what he’d said. Inside, though, numbness bloomed in her heart. A deadness. An emptiness that nothing could fill.
The only words her mind could form were Why, God? Why?
Once the surgeon exited, Leah kept her back to the door and let her tears run down her cheeks. Cool wetness soaked her pillow. She’d always dreamed of being a mother, of having a big family. Now she’d have no children. Not even one baby.
And what about Ben? He wanted a large family too. Any Amish man would. It wouldn’t be fair to marry him. Or anyone.
The surgeon’s words, along with his knife, had destroyed her future. She’d not only lost her dreams of a home and family, but she’d also lost any chance for a husband and marriage.
* * *
Footsteps crossed the threshold of the room, and Leah closed her eyes. She had no strength left to talk to a nurse.
The person rounded the bed. “Leah?”
No. What was Kyle doing here?
He dragged a chair close to the bed, so close his breath feathered against her face as he leaned over to wipe teardrops from her cheek with a gentle fingertip. “Are you in a lot of pain? If you press that button, you’ll get more meds to ease the worst of it.”
Leah’s eyes fluttered open, and she shook her head. Her insides felt like ground glass now that the anesthesia had worn off, but no medication could ease the pain tearing her apart.
“What’s wrong, then?”
Kyle’s soft question, combined with the caring in his eyes, started a fresh round of tears. Leah squeezed her eyes shut to hold them back. But when Kyle took her hand and stroked it tenderly, those tears flooded down her cheeks.
Her conscience warned her to pull her hand away when his touch started an exquisite ache inside. But she wanted—needed—this tenderness. No man would ever hold her hand like this.
“Leah?” Kyle leaned closer again.
His soft whispered breath close to her ear sent shivers through her. If only she could live in this fantasy world for a short while. But she had no right to dream of a life with any man, and certainly not an Englischer.
He tilted her chin and tenderly brushed away each teardrop. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and husky.
When she did, his eyes pleaded for an explanation. Yet talking about pregnancy and childbirth around men was verboten. But Kyle was a doctor, and he’d first diagnosed her. He’d also taken her to the clinic and waited for her there. The rules shouldn’t apply to him.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
Too s
hy to look at him, Leah lowered her eyes and blurted out, “No one can.” Then she took a deep breath. “There’s a good possibility”—she bit back a sob—“I can never have a baby.”
* * *
As a doctor, Kyle had trained himself to detach, to treat every patient dispassionately, so he tried to keep his voice neutral, doctorlike, and professional. “That sometimes is the outcome.”
As soon as he said the words, he regretted them. They sounded cold and callous. This was Leah, not some unknown patient. She was someone he cared about. He tamped down the longing to enfold her in his arms. Besides not having that right, he could hurt her because she’d just had surgery.
He did the only thing he could and squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“What am I going to do about Ben?”
The anguish in her voice tore through Kyle. He wished he could erase the misery from her face. Even if he could, he had no power to remove it from her soul.
“We can’t get married if I’m unable to have children.”
Kyle winced inwardly at the thought of her marrying Ben. “If he loves you, he’ll understand.” He wished he could say something to ease her sadness, but all that came to mind were the happy, childless-by-choice couples he hung around with. “Plenty of couples don’t have children. Look at the Hesses.”
“I know some Englischers choose not to have children, but not the Amish. Having children is important to our families and our community.”
Another option he’d offered to some patients came to mind. He winced, remembering how cavalierly he’d suggested, There’s always adoption. Little did he know his childhood home hadn’t been his first home, and the people he’d called Mom and Dad weren’t his birth parents. But you could love an adopted child the same as a child you bore. He choked out, “You could adopt.”
“Oh, Kyle…” Despite her own grief, she reached out and touched his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I had wonderful parents who raised me. I never realized I was adopted”—he swallowed hard—“although I don’t recommend hiding that from your children. Mom and Dad treated me the same way they did Caleb, and I never once questioned their love for either of us.”
Her hand lay atop his, and Kyle flipped his hand over to weave his fingers with hers. He told himself he was offering her comfort, but he liked being connected with her.
Leah squeezed his hand, setting his pulse racing. Despite her own devastating news, she was more concerned with his feelings than her own. What a thoughtful, giving person she was. If only he could help her the way she’d helped him.
“I wouldn’t mind adopting,” she said, “especially if I could get a child who’d turn out as wunderbar as you.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you adopted me.”
Leah giggled. “Thank you for making me laugh on one of the worst days of my life.”
Kyle loved her light, airy laugh. He would have given anything to be close to her, to be part of her family. Although he had no desire to be her child.
“As much as I’d like to adopt if I can’t have children of my own, I’m not sure Ben would agree. I don’t even think it’s fair to ask him. He might say he’s all right with it but not mean it.”
“It doesn’t sound like you trust Ben to be a loving parent.”
Leah sucked in a breath. “Ach, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that he cares for me…”
So do I, Kyle wanted to say, but clenched his teeth to prevent the words from passing his lips.
“He might not want to hurt my feelings.”
“I can understand that. You should give him a chance. He might feel the same way I do. I’d be happy to adopt children.”
“You’re different,” Leah said. “And not just because you were adopted. You have an open heart.”
Kyle had no idea how she saw that in him. He’d always tried hard to put on a remote, detached, professional demeanor. He hadn’t succeeded with her, though. Warmth flowed through the places where their hands connected and filled him to overflowing. If only he had the right to hold her hand, pull her into his arms, hold her close.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
More than all right. “I should be asking you that question.”
“I feel like someone blasted a gaping hole right through me, but having you here has made the bad news much more bearable.” Leah winced.
“Are you in pain? From the surgery, I mean.”
“Yes. The nurse told me about buttons and rules, but I didn’t pay close attention.”
Kyle demonstrated what to do, and Leah thanked him. Then she lay back and closed her eyes. He should leave, but he didn’t want to go. Nor did he want to untangle their fingers.
* * *
Leah could barely keep her eyes open. They kept drifting shut. She wanted to stay awake to feel the pressure of his fingers on hers. To talk to him.
But when she woke again, Kyle was gone. Darkness had descended, and loneliness overwhelmed her. She’d never spent a night alone, or away from her family.
In the stillness of the night, she wondered at God’s purpose for this. She and Ada had prayed so long and hard for husbands. Ada had found hers. Leah thought she had Ben, but it wouldn’t be right to marry him when she couldn’t have children.
Although she was devastated about not being able to have children, deep inside, part of her was relieved to break up with Ben. Her conscience had been bothering her ever since she realized she’d been falling for Kyle. Ben had never aroused the same emotions as Kyle had, so it wasn’t fair to go ahead with a marriage when she felt lukewarm about him. Nothing could ever come of her feelings for Kyle, but she had to do the right thing for Ben.
The next day before she was discharged, Kyle arrived and offered to drive her home. She’d been planning to call Sharon for a ride, but going with Kyle would be easier. Most likely nobody would question the fact that the Englisch doctor brought her home; the Amish sometimes used Englisch drivers when they traveled longer distances.
Leah felt fragile, achy, and hollowed out inside as she stepped gingerly over to the wheelchair. The aide took her down in the elevator to settle the bill.
Although the hospital was used to dealing with Amish patients and charged them less because they didn’t have insurance, Leah cringed at the total. How could a one-night stay cost so much? And how would they afford this on top of Mamm’s medical expenses? Often the Amish community contributed toward hospital bills, but Daed refused to ask for help. Instead, he would put down a deposit and work out a payment plan with the hospital.
The aide wheeled her out to the car, and Kyle helped her in.
“You’re going to think I’m always helpless and weak. I’ve always been strong and healthy.”
Kyle laughed. “I know. You were quite a fierce opponent when we fought about hospitals versus herbs.” He sobered. “I’m glad you had this taken care of, so you can go back to your feisty self.”
“I wasn’t really that bad, was I?”
“I like you just the way you are—fiery spirit and all.”
When they arrived at the shop, Kyle insisted on helping her out. As much as she wanted him to keep his arms around her, supporting her, Leah moved away from him to cross the parking lot alone.
Joel’s eyes widened as Kyle held open the door. “Where have you been, Leah? Ben stopped by twice this week asking for you. I had no idea what to tell him.”
“Ach, I asked him to wait until next week.” What did he think when she wasn’t here? That she was deliberately avoiding him?
“You should be resting,” Kyle said. He looked as if he were about to take her arm and help her into the house.
If Joel hadn’t been watching, she would have let him, but reluctantly she moved out of touching distance. Thank goodness her overnight things fit into her handbag. No need to give her brother ideas he might convey to Ben. She also hoped Joel wouldn’t mention that Kyle had brought her home.
Her brother examined her closely. “Y
ou do look pale. Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need anything from the store?”
Leah headed toward the house. “Not right now, but I’ll let you know if I do. Danke, Joel.” She kept her attention on turning the doorknob so her eyes wouldn’t meet Kyle’s. “Danke for bringing me home, Kyle.”
Joel stopped her as she walked through the door. “If Ben stops by, should I call you?”
Leah wasn’t ready for a confrontation with Ben. Not yet. Not when she was feeling so fragile herself. She needed time to prepare.
Behind her, Kyle said, “If Leah asked him to come next week, then he should at least wait until then. Even longer would be better.”
Bless Kyle for supporting her. She longed to turn and thank him with her eyes, but she’d struggle to break the connection if she did, and Joel could guess her secret. A secret she’d been denying. She’d fallen in love with Kyle.
Too choked up to respond, Leah only nodded. After she shut the door, she couldn’t resist one last peek. She turned to wave, but Kyle’s back was turned as he headed out to the parking lot. Suddenly not caring what Joel thought, she stared after him until he drove away.
The following Friday, Joel stuck his head in the door and called, “Leah, Ben’s here to see you.”
Leah was no more prepared for a confrontation with Ben now than she had been last week. Still fragile physically and emotionally, she wished she could avoid meeting him, but maybe it was best to get this over with.
Ben frowned when she entered the shop. “Have you been away? You weren’t in church yesterday.”
“I, um…” How should she answer that? “Would you like to come into the kitchen for a cup of tea?” They could both use some of her calming herbal tea.
A smile lit Ben’s face, and he followed her into the house. She busied herself with filling the kettle and measuring out herbs. When everything was ready, she placed a cup in front of Ben. Then she sank into a chair opposite him and wrapped her hands around her mug, hoping the heat seeping into her hands would warm her ice-cold body and heart.
The Amish Midwife's Secret Page 20
