“That’s when she got sick and needed a friend.”
“Couldn’t you have been both?” Katie asked.
“I couldn’t chance one for the other. Not when we had such little time left.”
“But you left before baptism,” Katie reminded, her voice breathless. “That means it would have been okay . . .”
“In theory, yes. But the more I strayed from who I’d been, the more unfamiliar this life became. In hindsight, I realize I didn’t want your mamm to look at me differently, and I didn’t want to have it change the bond we’d built because we wanted to.”
“You are good, Miss Lottie. You are kind. Mamm loved you.”
“And I loved her, too, Katie. But sometimes fear is the biggest liar of all. It tells you things that aren’t true. It makes you doubt yourself, and your worth.”
She looked down at her hands and then shoved them under her legs in an effort to stop their trembling. “I feel as if I do that all the time.”
“You mean, doubt yourself?” The chair creaked as Miss Lottie rocked forward and stopped. “You shouldn’t. Your mamm never doubted you. I don’t doubt you. Your family and Abram don’t doubt you.”
Abram . . .
“When you doubt yourself, child, step back and into the shoes of those who love you and see with their eyes. Very often that will bring clarity to your own vision.”
Unsure of what to make of Miss Lottie’s words, she looked out at the yard and Sadie, the little girl no longer blowing bubbles but, rather, just lying in the grass, her head atop Digger’s back. “What became of your brother’s art?”
“I have a few pieces in my home. As for the rest, I can’t answer that. He got busy, I got busy, and then, one day, it was too late.”
Katie watched Sadie for a few moments. “Did he at least have a happy life?”
“I have done some searches, even found some articles about him. But those speak of his work more, not his life outside of his brushes.”
She turned Miss Lottie’s answer around in her thoughts until the only question still remaining found its way past her lips. “Why did you leave?” she whispered.
“In the beginning, I think it was because I didn’t want to lose my brother. But then, once I was out, I got swept up in the English world and, just like a sheep who is too busy eating to notice what’s happening around him, I lost my way.” Miss Lottie took a sip of her lemonade and then pulled the glass close against her chest.
“But you came back. To a place where Amish live.”
“You’re right, Katie. I did.”
“Why?”
“Because eventually, when I looked up and saw all that I had lost, I realized what I really wanted and needed was the peace this area and its people bring to my life. Even if it’s from the outside looking in, now.”
“Did you make the wrong choice back then, Miss Lottie?”
“You mean when I chose to leave?” At Katie’s nod, Miss Lottie shrugged. “I made my choice. And it was a choice that came with ups and downs along the way. Do I have regrets? Certainly. But all of it—the good, the bad, and everything in between—led me to where I am now—a place of contentment and wisdom.”
It was a lot to take in, a lot to digest. Lifting her hand to her brow, she shielded some of the sun’s rays in an attempt to see whether Sadie was talking to Digger or, perhaps, napping. “It is different for me than it was for you and for Hannah.”
“How so, child?”
“You both had choices,” she said, dropping her hand back down to her lap. “I do not.”
Miss Lottie returned her glass to the table. “Choices?”
“Yah. You could choose to leave and not have it change things unless you wanted it to. Hannah could choose to leave and still be a part of our family. But I do not have those choices.”
“You have choices, Katie. And you have made many.”
Katie turned and stared at Miss Lottie. “What choices have I made?”
“First and foremost, you chose to stay when Hannah left.”
“I couldn’t leave Mamm the way Hannah did,” she protested. “Especially when she was so sick.”
“Your mamm was not sick when Hannah left.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.
“You also chose to keep drawing after your Rumspringa was over.” Miss Lottie took an apple from the bowl, polished it with the hem of her colorful skirt, and then placed it back in the bowl.
“But that was wrong.”
“And you knew that when you were doing it. Yet you chose to do it anyway, yes?” Miss Lottie slid forward and off the rocking chair, her attention still on Katie even though her gaze had her in the yard with Sadie and Digger. “And most importantly, you chose to get back on the bus at the end of your visit in the city with Hannah.”
“Of course I got back on the bus! Sadie made me promise I would come back—that I wouldn’t leave her like Hannah did! I couldn’t tell her that and then do the opposite . . .”
“Of course you could have, Katie. But you chose not to. You chose to come back.”
“I have to take care of them, Miss Lottie.”
“Maybe that was the case at first. But Mary can do it now. She is ready.”
“But—”
“You have made choices, Katie. All that is left for you to do now is to decide if they’re the right ones for you.”
Chapter 27
She rolled onto her side and stared at the swath of moonlight illuminating the floor between her bed and the window. Before Hannah left, Katie would have been sitting on that same stretch of floor, transferring whatever memory she was desperate to record onto paper. On those nights, when Hannah rolled, Katie had frozen. When Hannah had coughed or uttered something in her sleep, Katie had pushed the sketch pad under the bed and prayed for the moment to pass.
Back then, a single picture could take months to complete thanks to the stage of the moon, Hannah’s need to talk into the wee hours of the morning, or Katie’s own need to get every detail right.
When Hannah left and Katie no longer had to rely on the moon and someone else’s ability to sleep, she could complete a picture in a matter of weeks, instead of months.
But regardless of whether it had been pre- or post-Hannah, it was this exact time of day that had been her favorite of all.
Had been.
Past tense.
Now, the time between Dat’s candle going out and being able to fall asleep stretched out in front of Katie like a country road with no visible end. It didn’t help, of course, that the pencils she ached to hold were housed mere inches beneath her body. But every time she gave serious thought to throwing them away, she’d found something else to do, instead—a pie that needed to be baked, a floor that needed to be swept, or a stall that needed to be mucked. At. That. Exact. Moment.
“You have made choices, Katie. All that is left for you to do now is to decide if they are the right choices.”
She flipped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe drawing had been a choice, but stopping wasn’t. She had to stop. For Dat. For her siblings. For—
A soft knock, followed by Mary’s hushed voice, propelled Katie up and off her bed. Padding across the wood floor on bare feet, Katie opened her door, the worry in Mary’s eyes igniting a rush of panic up her spine.
She peeked around the corner toward Dat’s still closed and darkened door and then pulled the thirteen-year-old all the way into her room. “Mary? What’s wrong? Why are you awake?”
“I am sorry to wake you but something is wrong.”
“Wrong? Wrong how?”
“With Sadie. She was making funny noises. I tried to shush her before she woke up Annie, but she did not stop,” Mary whispered. “So I went to her bed to check. She was shivering all over, but her face was hot like fire.”
Katie grabbed the cloth hanging next to her washbowl and dumped it inside the pitcher of water she used to clean her face each morning. When she was sure it was good and
wet, she pulled it out, wrung the excess off, and ran into the hall, looking back at Mary as she did. “Find a blanket somewhere and bring it to me right away.”
“But she’s hot, Katie!”
“Her face may be, but the rest of her will be cold.”
She continued down the hall and into the room shared by her three sisters. A peek at Annie’s crib showed no sign of movement from the toddler. Next came Mary’s bed, her covers still turned back from her unexpected exit. At the far end of the room, closest to the window, was Sadie, her little body shaking from head to toe.
Perching on the edge of the narrow bed, she brought her lips to Sadie’s temple as Mamm had always done when she suspected someone was ill. Sure enough, Mary’s description fit.
“I’m here, sweet girl. You’re going to be okay. Mary has gone to fetch an extra blanket for you, and I’m going to try to cool your head down a little.” She folded the wet cloth in half and gently laid it on Sadie’s forehead. Sadie, in turn, barely flinched, her lashes fluttering against her pudgy cheeks without ever fully parting. “Does anything hurt? Like maybe your tummy?”
She ran through a mental list of everything Sadie had eaten that day but came up with nothing different or out of the ordinary. Certainly not anything Katie, herself, hadn’t eaten, too. Realizing Sadie hadn’t answered, she brought her ears in line with the little girl’s mouth just in case she’d missed something.
“Sadie? Does anything hurt?”
Again, Sadie didn’t answer—not in words, anyway. Instead, a series of heartbreaking moans made their way past her clattering teeth. Katie glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Mary’s approaching feet, the sight of her newly completed quilt tucked underneath the teenager’s arm sagging her shoulders in relief.
“Bring it here, Mary.”
“The blanket is in Mamm’s chest and I didn’t want to wake Dat. So I took the quilt you finished last week. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“No, this is fine. We just need to keep her warm.” Katie stood, took the colorful quilt from Mary’s arms, and spread it out across the four-year-old. “Shhh, sweet girl . . . this should make you feel better.”
The shivering continued.
So, too, did the moaning.
Mary lowered herself down onto the bed next to Sadie’s blanket-clad feet and looked up at Katie, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong with her, Katie?”
“I don’t know. She walked kind of slow on the way to Miss Lottie’s this afternoon, but she didn’t complain and I just figured she was enjoying the sunshine. Then, when we got there, she didn’t run and jump with Digger like she did yesterday, but she still seemed happy.”
“She did not eat all of her dinner,” Mary offered. “She gave most of it to Samuel, remember?”
Katie did. She also remembered Sadie sitting quietly on the porch while the rest of the family played one of Jakob’s silly guessing games. Looking back, she’d seen them all as separate things. But now, in light of the shivers and the fever, they came together in a way that made perfect sense.
“Mamm would have known,” she said, her voice barely audible to her own ears.
Mary looked up. “Mamm would have known what?”
“That Sadie was getting sick.” Katie checked Sadie’s cheeks with the back of her hand, and then flipped the cloth onto its other side. “Mamm was good at being Mamm.”
“Yah. But, Katie, you have done a good job since she has passed. You take good care of the little ones and you take good care of all of us. Dat says so, too.”
She held her hand to Sadie’s forehead and stared at Mary. “He does?”
“Yah. To Miss Lottie.”
“Maybe, if I’d noticed sooner, Sadie would not be so sick.” Katie turned back to Sadie and gently cupped the little girl’s cheek. “Oh, sweet girl, I’m sorry you’re not feeling—”
“Ka . . . tie?” Sadie’s eyelids fluttered open, her eyes unfocused.
Dropping onto the edge of the bed next to Sadie, she leaned in close. “I’m here, sweet girl. So is Mary. Would you like a sip of water or—”
“Keep . . . with . . . me . . . here.”
“Of course, I’ll keep with you here, Sadie. I’m right here. And we’re going to get you all better, you just wait and see. You and Annie will be chasing after Fancy Feet and Mr. Nosey the Second in no time.”
Sadie released a small moan and then closed her eyes again. Terrified, Katie lowered her hand to the little girl’s chest, and when she felt a tiny breath, released one of her own.
“Katie?”
She heard the worry in Mary’s voice and tried her best to counteract it with the kind of reassurance Mamm had always given. “She’ll be okay, Mary.”
“Should we wake Dat?”
Katie thought back over the times she and her siblings had been sick. Never could she recall Mamm summoning Dat from his sleep . . . “No. I’ll sleep in here with the little ones. You take my bed. We’ll tell him when he wakes in the morning. Hopefully, by then, her fever will have broken and she’ll be back to her smiley, happy self.”
* * *
The English doctor came just after breakfast the next morning. He walked into Sadie’s room, set his black bag on the floor beside her bed, and proceeded to check her head, her ears, her throat, and finally her chest, his brow furrowing at her labored breaths.
“How long has she been breathing like this?” he asked.
Stepping around Dat, she looked down at Sadie, the mid-morning light making the skin around the little girl’s mouth appear almost blue. “She started making that funny sound just before dawn. That is when I woke Dat and he sent Jakob to get Miss Lottie.”
“And before that? What was she doing?”
“Her fever started sometime last night. I wanted to give her a bath, but she didn’t have the strength to sit up. Instead, I kept cold cloths on her head throughout the night.” Katie stopped, took a breath, and tried to slow her words. “The few times she woke, I made sure to give her sips of water.”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving Sadie. “How about during the day yesterday? Any wheezing? Coughing?”
Katie was shaking her head before the doctor was even done talking. “No, nothing like that. She was a little quiet, a little less chatty, but that was it.”
“I see.” He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and popped it into his bag. “Sadie is a very sick little girl, I’m afraid. She needs to be hospitalized.”
She tried to hold back her answering gasp, but based on the feel of Miss Lottie’s hand on her shoulder, she knew she’d failed. “Why? What’s wrong with her?”
“Normally, I’d want an X-ray to confirm my diagnosis, but in this case, there is no need. Sadie has pneumonia. For it to come on this hard, this fast, is worrisome and she needs around-the-clock care.”
Nodding, Dat stepped back from the bed. “I’ll get the buggy—”
“Wait!” Katie pleaded. “Please. I-I can do it. I can take care of Sadie.”
“That’s honorable, Katie, but it’s not wise. With as hard and fast as this has come on, I’m afraid it will continue to move from the serious case it is now to, potentially, something much more life threatening.”
“L-life threatening?” Looking back at first Dat, and then Miss Lottie, Katie knew the shock she saw on their faces was surely a mirror of her own. “But she’s only four.”
“Yes. And that just means there’s even less of her to fight with.”
She grabbed for the wall and used it to steady herself. “Please! Just tell me what to do to take care of her and I will do it.”
“But she’s a very sick little girl . . .”
Katie closed her hand over Dat’s arm. “Please, Dat. Don’t send her away. I-I told Sadie that I would stay with her. Here. Please. I-I know I can do this, Dat. Please.”
When Dat looked at the doctor, Katie moved on to Miss Lottie, her growing desperation making it difficult to breathe. “Miss Lottie . . . please. I-I want to do this. I ca
n do this. Just let me try.”
“Katie, dear, I—”
She met Miss Lottie’s gaze and held it steady. “Please,” she whispered. “I need to try. For Sadie . . . and for Mamm. I promised I would.”
“Doctor?”
Holding her breath, Katie, too, glanced back at the doctor. “Tell me everything I need to do, and everything I need to watch for. If something goes wrong, I will put her in Dat’s buggy myself and bring her straight to you.”
“Straight to me with no delay.” He reached down, retrieved his bag from the floor, and beckoned them to follow him into the hall. “I’m going to call in a prescription for an antibiotic she needs to take twice a day, every day, until it’s all gone. Beyond that, just let her sleep. Make sure she’s drinking. And if her breathing grows even more difficult or you find anything even the slightest bit alarming, you skip the buggy and use that phone booth between Fisher and Yoder to call for an ambulance, do you understand?”
“Yah.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Katie.”
“I won’t. I promise. Thank you, Doctor.”
Chapter 28
The sun was just beginning its descent when Mary poked her head into Sadie’s room, the lack of sleep, coupled with a day spent running up and down the stairs checking on both Sadie and Katie, beginning to show in the thirteen-year-old’s stance.
“Katie?” she whispered.
Slipping off the chair she’d inhabited for coming up on eight hours, Katie crossed to the door, glancing back at Sadie every few steps. “Is Annie settled in next to my bed?”
“Yah. Samuel helped me make up a spot on the floor so she can’t fall, and I’ll be right next to her in your bed if she wakes up and gets scared.”
“That is good. Thank you. And please thank Samuel for me, too.”
“I will.” Mary’s worried gaze drove her own back to Sadie. “Has she woken at all since she had her first medicine?”
“No. But I will have to wake her in about an hour to take more.”
“She . . .” Mary stopped, took what sounded like a gulp, and then continued, her voice shaky at best. “She’s going to be okay, right—”
Portrait of a Sister Page 21
