They could worry about getting him back on the couch after the EMTs arrived. Elijah had fought stubborn cows and lifted heavy equipment, but nothing prepared him for the deadweight of the corpulent man on the floor. A man who seemed to be doing nothing to assist them. They’d barely managed to move him a few inches when Melvin gasped and went limp.
Cardiac arrest. Elijah’s training came flooding back. Putting one hand on top of the other and interlocking his fingers, he pressed on Melvin’s sternum. After each compression, he waited until his chest recoiled and then pressed again. Three, four, five…Elijah counted until he reached thirty.
Then he slid his hand under Melvin’s neck to tilt his head back and open his airway. Pinching Melvin’s nose, Elijah completed two breaths and returned to thirty compressions. Over and over he silently repeated, Two breaths, thirty compressions, two breaths, thirty compressions, until the ambulance siren whirred outside.
Grace rushed to the door to let the EMTs in. Elijah continued his rhythm until one of the men set a hand on his shoulder. Exhausted, Elijah rocked back on his heels and took in a long, slow breath. Then he stumbled to his feet and stepped aside, his heart pounding from adrenaline, as the EMTs shocked Melvin.
Grace stood framed in the kitchen doorway, the children behind her, peeking out from behind her skirt. Her hands were clenched in front of her, and her gaze remained focused on the EMTs bent over her prone husband. Elijah wished he had some way to help, to reassure her.
One EMT stood. “We need to get him to the hospital now.”
Icy wind blew through the door as the driver wheeled in the stretcher, which left snowy tracks across the polished hardwood floors. Elijah assisted them in settling Melvin onto the stretcher, which groaned and creaked under his weight. Then they whisked him out the door.
Elijah turned to Grace. “Did you want to ride along to the hospital?”
She glanced down at her son and daughter, who were staring after the stretcher. “I-I can’t.”
“Go ahead,” he urged, waving her toward the door. “I’ll watch the children for you.”
“But they haven’t had any dinner or…”
“Don’t worry. I can handle everything. You should be with your husband.” He motioned toward the door. “You’d better hurry.”
She glanced at him uncertainly, and he tried to project an air of calmness and competence. Once she’d snatched up her black bonnet and cape and hurried out the door, all his bravado leaked out. As a confirmed bachelor with no siblings or nieces and nephews, he had no idea how to care for children.
What have I gotten myself into?
About the Author
Rachel J. Good grew up near Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, the setting for her Amish novels. Striving to be as authentic as possible, she spends time with her Amish friends, doing chores on their farms and attending family events. Rachel loves to travel and visit many different Amish communities. She also speaks at conferences and book events across the country and abroad.
When she’s not traveling, she spends time with her family and writing. In addition to her Amish novels, she’s written more than forty books for children and adults under several pen names.
You can find out more at:
racheljgood.com
Twitter @RachelJGood1
Facebook.com
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