The Amish Midwife's Courtship and Plain Truth

by Cheryl Williford

“Which had nothing to do with the genetic disease. As you can imagine, their mother was anxious. I assured her the girls would be fine with fluids and time. Antinausea drugs helped. I’ll check on them again in the morning, but I feel sure they’ll make a full recovery.”

  The doctor glanced at an area near her desk where blood stained the tile floor. “I wish I was equally as convinced of their mother’s prognosis.”

  “You don’t think she’ll survive?” Zach asked.

  “Mary Kate lost a lot of blood. A whole host of complications could develop. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be key.”

  “Why would someone harm Mrs. Powers?”

  The doc shook her head, a bit too quickly.

  Zach leaned closer. “Is there someone who might have reason to attack the girls’ mother?”

  “You’d have to ask Mary Kate, although I doubt you’ll be able to question her for the next day or two.” Dr. Jacobsen glanced again at the floor. “Even then, I’m not sure...”

  “I’ll contact the hospital,” Zach volunteered.

  She glanced up at him, her eyes wide with hopeful optimism. “Would you let me know her condition?”

  “Of course.”

  She almost smiled.

  Zach let out a breath, checked the notes he’d made and tried to get back to his questioning. “Could you tell me about your husband, ma’am?”

  “My husband?”

  Any positive steps he had made took a backward dive as her frown returned.

  “You mentioned that he had worked at a research center in Pennsylvania,” Zach prompted. “Where is your husband currently working?”

  “My husband...” She pulled in a ragged breath. “Quin died eight months ago.”

  Not what Zach had expected. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Thank you. So am I.”

  “You lived with him in Pennsylvania?”

  “I did. That’s correct.”

  “And after he passed away...” Zach let the statement hang.

  “After his death, I moved to Georgia and opened this clinic.”

  “Georgia must not be home, ma’am. I don’t notice a Southern accent.”

  She tilted her head. “I’m originally from Ohio. I met and married my husband in Columbus when I was attending medical school at Ohio State. He was doing research for a private company.”

  “What brought you South after his death?”

  She touched the ring finger of her left hand as if searching for the wedding band she no longer wore.

  “I came to Freemont because of the Amish who live in the area. Some of the families migrated here from Pennsylvania, a few from Ohio and Alabama. Seems everyone—even the ‘English,’ as they call us—wants a bit of the simple lifestyle. Land up north is hard to find, which forces young Amish farmers to settle new areas, away from the urban sprawl that has become a problem.”

  “So you were looking for an Amish community?”

  “I’m a pediatrician.” She sounded tired. Perhaps from too many questions. “I wanted to open a care clinic for Amish children.”

  “But the Powers twins aren’t Amish.”

  “Mary Kate grew up around here. As you probably know, her husband—the girls’ stepfather—is military and was deployed to the Middle East. Mary Kate and the girls moved home to be with her parents. My clinic is closer than going to town for medical treatment.”

  Zach studied the notes he had taken. Something didn’t add up. “Your husband worked with the Amish in Pennsylvania?”

  “Amish children. He specialized in newly emerging, genetically acquired diseases, as well as established conditions that impact the Amish.”

  “What specifically?”

  “Metabolic disorders such as pyruvate kinase deficiency, Crigler-Najjar syndrome, maple syrup urine disease.”

  Zach held up his hand. “Evidently there are a number of conditions that attack Amish children.”

  “Too many. As I mentioned, Quin worked to identify new diseases and researched treatment protocols.”

  “Then you moved here after his death to carry on his legacy?”

  “No.” Confusion washed over her face. “I came because I wanted to make a contribution.”

  From the noticeable way she braced her shoulders and raised her head, Zach wondered if there was more to her statement than she cared to admit. Had the doctor been living in her husband’s shadow?

  “What was the cause of your husband’s death, ma’am?”

  She bristled. “I don’t see how that has bearing on what happened here tonight.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but it’s my job to put the pieces together. Your husband’s death could play a role in the investigation.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  Zach raised his brow and waited. Dr. Jacobsen had to realize that police questions needed to be answered.

  “My husband’s cause of death is still under investigation,” she finally admitted.

  “Could you provide a few more details?”

  “Quin attended a medical research conference in Memphis, Tennessee. He left the hotel Saturday afternoon before the end of the event. His luggage was in the rental car found on the edge of a bridge that spans the Mississippi River.”

  Her face twisted as if the story was hard to tell.

  “Fishermen found his body washed up on the banks of the river some days later.”

  “Was foul play suspected?”

  She swallowed. “The police ruled his death self-inflicted.”

  Suicide, but she failed to use the term. “Did you question their finding?” Zach asked.

  “Of course. Anything could have happened. He could have fallen or been pushed.”

  “You suspected foul play?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what I suspected. Quin was a perfectionist. He held himself to a high standard. Succumbing to the sense of unworthiness that predisposes someone to take their own life hardly seemed in keeping with Quin’s nature.”

  “Did you explain your concerns to the police?”

  “They weren’t interested in my opinions.”

  A negative undercurrent was evident from her tone of voice. Zach doubted the good doctor had much regard for law enforcement, present company included, he felt sure.

  “What about tonight’s assailant. Did you see anything that might identify the intruder?”

  She raked her hand through her curly hair and shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

  When Zach failed to comment, she leaned closer. “I passed out. Not long. A matter of seconds at the most, yet my recall is foggy at best.”

  Opening her hands, she shrugged. “The truth is I can’t remember anything that happened shortly before or after I blacked out.”

  “What’s the last thing you do remember, ma’am?”

  “I was outside, trying to make the generator work. A scream came from the clinic. I hurried inside to make sure Mary Kate and the girls were all right.”

  “What did you find?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “A man shadowed in darkness stood over my desk.”

  “Go on,” Zach encouraged her.

  She shook her head. “That’s all I can recall.”

  The side door opened and Sergeant Abrams and Officer Taylor stepped back into the clinic. After saying something to the younger cop, Abrams approached the doctor. “Ma’am, the EMTs mentioned your need to be checked at the hospital. I can have one of my men drive you there in the next twenty to thirty minutes.”

  “That’s not necessary. All I really need are a couple of ibuprofen and a few hours of sleep.”

  “If the Freemont police are tied up, I’d be happy to drive you to the hospital,” Zach volunteered. “You’ve been
through a lot and are probably running on adrenaline right now.”

  “Really, I’m fine,” she insisted.

  The sergeant leaned closer. “Ma’am, you owe it to your patients to be checked out. The sooner you get feeling better, the sooner you’ll be able to see to their needs.”

  The man seemed to have struck the right chord.

  “Perhaps you’re right.” She glanced at Zach. “You wouldn’t mind driving me?”

  “Not a problem, ma’am.”

  She looked down at her soiled hands and blouse. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wash my hands and change into clean clothes.”

  “Of course.”

  Abrams motioned a female cop forward. “Officer Grant will accompany you into your private residence, ma’am.”

  “But it adjoins my clinic,” the doc objected. “I just need to go down the hall. The door connects to the kitchen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The sergeant nodded. “But having someone with you is a safety precaution until you’ve been checked out at the hospital.”

  As if too tired to argue, Dr. Jacobsen rose and followed the female officer into the hallway.

  Once the women had left the room, Zach turned to the sergeant. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling you don’t trust the doc.”

  Abrams offered him a tired smile. “I’m being cautious. Dr. Jacobsen seems to be a woman of merit, but I’ve seen too many criminals over the years who look like Miss America and apple pie. I don’t want to be hoodwinked by a physician in a rural clinic who’s up to no good.”

  Zach hadn’t suspected the doctor of wrongdoing. Quite the opposite. He wouldn’t admit his feelings to the sergeant, but something about her tugged at his heart. Maybe it was the confusion he read in her gaze, or her vulnerability. Whatever the reason, he needed to focus on the case at hand. He also needed to remind himself of what he’d learned long ago.

  Ever since his mother’s traumatic death, Zach didn’t trust doctors. He never had and never would.

  Chapter Two

  Ella stepped into the hallway and paused. Her head ached, and the muscles in her back and legs were strained. Although she’d survived the attack, her insides were still trembling. After Quin’s death, she had moved to Georgia, looking for a better life. Now an intruder had robbed her of her peace and sense of security.

  She doubted that the special agent could understand the way she felt. He was big and bulky, and impeccably dressed in a navy sports coat and khaki slacks, with a patterned tie that brought out his rugged complexion and dark eyes. Some might call him handsome. She found him intense.

  Glancing into the small treatment room, she saw Hugh Powers, head in his hands, sitting in the chair where his wife had slept not that long ago.

  Ella tapped on the door frame. “Corporal Powers?”

  He glanced up.

  “I’m sorry about Mary Kate.”

  “The EMTs said she would have bled out if you hadn’t helped.” He looked weary and confused.

  A sound caused her to turn. The special agent had entered the hallway and stood staring at her. “I thought you were going to your residence.” His voice was low and clipped.

  “I was talking to Corporal Powers.” She glanced back at the soldier. “I know this isn’t the homecoming from the Middle East that you expected, with sick children and an injured wife. If it’s any consolation, the girls are getting stronger, and I’m sure the doctors at Fort Rickman are doing everything they can for Mary Kate.”

  “When can I leave here?” he asked. “I need to go to the hospital to be with my wife, but the sergeant said he might have more questions.”

  “Maybe Special Agent Swain can help you.”

  Zach stepped forward, getting much too close to Ella. All she’d been able to smell since the storm was Georgia clay and dried blood. Now she inhaled the clean scent of sandalwood and a hint of lime.

  She looked up, taking in his bulk, and then glanced down at her tattered blouse and soiled hands, realizing once again that she couldn’t let appearance define her.

  Ella wasn’t who Quin had wanted her to be—that became evident over the course of their short marriage. The problem was, she wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted anymore. Quin had that effect on her. Or maybe it had started with her father, who was never satisfied with anything she did. How had she married a man who reminded her of her dad? A psychologist might say she was trying to prove her worth to both men, but she was tired of having to prove herself to anyone, even the special agent.

  He touched her arm. She glanced down at a hand that would dwarf her own.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice brimming with concern.

  Evidently, she had been lost in thought longer than she realized. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Turning abruptly on her heel, she followed the female police officer into her private residence and sighed as she closed the door behind her. Of course she wasn’t fine. She had been beaten up by an assailant who’d tried to shoot her.

  The gun. Why hadn’t she remembered the gun?

  Ella hurried back into the hallway and stopped short in front of the treatment room. Zach moved to the door.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “The man...the assailant...he drew a weapon. The gun jammed. He kept trying to pull the trigger, over and over again.”

  The reality of her own brush with death overtook her. Tears burned her eyes. Her body trembled. Shock. She knew the signs, but couldn’t help herself. She felt weak and sick and all alone.

  Powerless to stop herself, she stepped toward the special agent with the wide shoulders and broad chest.

  He opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace. “You’re safe now.”

  Which was exactly how she felt. Then, all too quickly, she realized her mistake and pulled out of his hold.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed by her moment of weakness. Her cheeks burned as she retraced her steps and escaped into the kitchen.

  Ella had hoped to find peace in Freemont, Georgia, but she’d found something else. She’d found a brutal attacker, a man who had tried to kill her. Why had he come into her clinic and what had he wanted to find?

  * * *

  Why had he opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace? Zach let out a stiff breath and mentally chastised himself for his emotional response to the doc. What was wrong with him tonight?

  He stood staring after her as she closed the door at the end of the hallway, and willed himself to act like an investigator instead a guy taken in by a pretty face and big blue eyes. Inwardly, he shifted back to CID mode before he stepped into the treatment room where Corporal Powers waited.

  After introducing himself, Zach inquired about the corporal’s unit and why he had followed his wife and daughters to the clinic.

  “I didn’t follow them,” the man insisted. “Mary Kate and the twins left the house when I was sleeping. The girls had been sick, and my wife mentioned calling the doctor.”

  “Dr. Jacobsen?”

  The soldier nodded. “I figured they were here.”

  “So you came to find them.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Tell me what happened when you arrived?”

  “I already told the Freemont cop.”

  “But you need to tell me.” Zach pulled out a notebook and held a pen over the tablet. He glanced at the young father and waited.

  The sergeant clenched his hands. A muscle in his thick neck twitched.

  Zach voiced his concern. “Does it make you angry to talk about what you saw, Corporal Powers?”

  “I found my wife on the floor of this clinic. If it hadn’t been for the doc, Mary Kate would have bled out. How would that make you feel?”

  “Worried
about my wife’s condition.”

  “I was also worried about my girls. I thought they’d been killed. I was frantic.”

  “And angry?” Zach added. “Perhaps at your wife for leaving you and taking the children?”

  The corporal shook his head. “I was angry that my wife was hurt, and fearful for my daughters. When I found them unharmed and sound asleep, I... I lost it.” Hugh pulled in a ragged breath and rubbed his neck.

  “You and your wife married when?”

  “Five years ago. Soon after the girls were born. Mary Kate was living in the Savannah area. I was stationed at Fort Stewart.”

  “She was pregnant when you met?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Did you adopt the girls?” Zach asked.

  “I’m their father.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Yes, I adopted them.”

  Other questions came to mind, like who was the biological father, but at that moment, Officer Abrams entered the room and nodded to Zach.

  He posed one final question. “You’re staying with your in-laws?”

  “I am.” The corporal nodded. “But right now, I want to go to the hospital and be with my wife.”

  “Looks like the Freemont police need to ask you some more questions.” Zach handed the soldier his card. “Contact me if you remember anything else.”

  He handed a second card to Abrams. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “You’re taking the doc to the Freemont Hospital?”

  “Roger that.”

  Zach returned to the office and studied the bloodstains on the floor. From the position of the blood spatter, he guessed Mary Kate had probably awakened, heard a noise and stumbled into the room, where the intruder had attacked her physically and then shot her with his weapon. Yet the doctor hadn’t mentioned hearing gunfire.

  He walked to where Taylor was lifting prints off the doctor’s desk. “I was at Fort Rickman when the storm hit tonight. We had a lot of lightning and thunder. Was it the same around here?”

  The young cop nodded. “Sounded like explosive blasts, one after another. Don’t know when I’ve heard such deafening claps of thunder.”

  “Loud enough to muffle a gunshot?” Zach asked.