Courting Her Secret Heart

by Mary Davis

  Vater clenched his jaw and hobbled around in a circle. He looked as though he’d wanted to storm away again, but his crutches made that difficult. He stopped and faced the open doorway. “Amos! Come back in here!” He had spoken loud enough for someone to hear if they’d been right outside but didn’t quite yell. He obviously thought Amos stood close by, listening.

  Amos didn’t appear.

  Vater huffed out a breath. “Deborah, go get the boy. I’ll see what he has to say for himself.”

  Deborah froze in place. Would Vater scold Amos? Send him away from the farm?

  Hannah stepped forward. “Vater, he’s done nothing wrong.”

  “This is my frau we are talking about. My family. I will speak to him if I wish.” He turned back to Deborah. “Get the boy.”

  Amos was hardly a boy, but Deborah backed out of the barn. Had Vater sent her away to once again exclude her from a conversation with her older sisters? She would ask them later. She refused to be shut out again.

  Amos stood by the woodpile, swinging the ax. Definitely not a boy. He hadn’t been listening. She thought more highly of him for that and wanted to run into his arms.

  The tool came down on a log, and the two halves toppled in opposite directions. He leaned to pick up the larger one.

  “Amos?”

  With the log in hand, he turned and smiled. “Ja?”

  Her mouth momentarily responded in kind, then she remembered why she’d been sent out here. “My vater wishes you to come back in. We told him you know about our mutter. He isn’t happy.”

  He tossed the hunk of wood on the ground with several others. “I’m sure he isn’t. All of this can’t be easy for him.”

  Her sisters hadn’t wanted Amos involved for Vater’s sake, but Deborah believed he could help. Show Vater that people outside the family could be kind to Mutter, as well. Vater might not have wanted Amos to know, but he already did. Deborah wanted him at her side to draw from his strength. She walked with him back inside the barn.

  Her sisters and Vater stood in silence.

  Amos approached slowly.

  Vater became stiff and set his jaw. “Girls, leave us.”

  Oh, dear. Deborah hoped Vater didn’t blame Amos and reprimand him. She wanted to stay at his side to lend support. “Vater, I don’t think we can keep this a secret from the community any longer. I’m sure some people already suspect something is wrong with Mutter. The way Hannah or Lydia are always close beside her and shield her from others. How they talk for her.”

  Vater took a slow breath. “Go inside the house and wait for me there. Let us men talk.”

  Deborah glanced from Vater to Amos. Amos nodded that he would be fine and gave her a reassuring smile that calmed her inside.

  With reluctance, she and her sisters moved toward the door. Defying Vater wouldn’t help Amos.

  She sent up a quick prayer for Amos.

  * * *

  Amos faced Bartholomew Miller, bracing himself for the man’s ire. He had volunteered to speak to Bartholomew, but now he wasn’t so sure of the wisdom in that. This was a family matter. Amos wasn’t family. Bartholomew would likely send him away from the farm entirely. If that was the case, he would take his belongings and text Jacob to come get him. He would sleep in the back of his cousin’s pickup if he had to.

  The older man shifted on his crutches. His expression was weary and haggard. The poor man looked worn-out. Not only had he been saddled with all daughters—not one son to help shoulder the workload of a farm—but he also had a child with Down syndrome and a frau with medical problems. So many burdens for one man to bear.

  Amos wished Bartholomew would sit down but knew he likely wouldn’t. That would be a sign of weakness. “I want to help you, your frau and your family in any way I can.” He’d grown to care a great deal about this family. In fact, he felt more comfortable with them than his own. He had a useful place here, unlike on his vater’s farm.

  Bartholomew nodded. “Anything we say here needs to stay between the two of us.”

  “I understand.”

  “We’ll talk man-to-man. Women can be too emotional. Tell me what you’ve noticed about my frau.”

  Unusual for an Amish man to talk to another about so personal a subject. Maybe to the bishop or one of the elders, but not a young man such as himself. He hoped the older man didn’t think him disrespectful. After all, what kind of counsel could a young, single man give a married one old enough to be his father? But the unique position Amos found himself in—working on their farm for weeks and living in the barn—gave him an advantage others in the community didn’t have. He would adhere to Bartholomew’s wishes and not speak to anyone about this, and he would proceed with the utmost respect. “I can tell your frau loves all of you a lot.”

  “But?”

  “But...” Speaking of this made him uncomfortable. He wished he could just listen, but silence wouldn’t help Teresa Miller or her family. “She forgets things and gets confused. When we were hitching up the buggy to take her to the doctor’s, she asked me to introduce the girl with me. It was Deborah. Her own daughter. She remembered me but not her.” Poor Deborah. The ache for her welled anew. He couldn’t imagine his own mutter forgetting him. “She forgets other things, too, and wanders sometimes like she doesn’t know where she is. Your daughters do a gut job of shielding her, but they can’t always. I found her on the road a week after I arrived here. I didn’t think much of it, but now I know better. What if she wanders off and gets hurt or lost?”

  Bartholomew stared at Amos for a long minute before he spoke. “I appreciate your candor and compassion for my frau and daughters.” He paused. “What would you do if you were me?”

  Gott, guard my words and help me say the right things. Was Amos prepared to give an older man advice about his frau? “I think...I would try to figure out what’s causing her to forget and be confused. Dr. Kathleen needs her medical history and records to diagnose her properly. She requires your permission. Maybe there’s a treatment that can help your frau remember.”

  “And if there’s not?”

  So he feared there would be no help or hope for his frau.

  “Then I guess we’ll deal with it at that point. We can’t help her properly until we know what’s wrong.”

  “We?”

  “Ja. The more people who can look out for her, the safer she’ll be.”

  “You aren’t suggesting I tell the rest of the community, are you?”

  “Wouldn’t that be better than keeping secrets and something bad happening to her?”

  Bartholomew backed up and sat on an upturned log that served as a stool. “I do want her to be safe.”

  “I can tell. That’s why you’ve had your daughters keeping such a close watch on her for so long. It can’t hurt to speak to Dr. Kathleen. She’s compassionate and discreet.”

  “I wish to say ne, but you—” he waved a crutch in the general direction of the house “—and my daughters make sense. I can’t ignore the Lord’s prodding any longer. I don’t want any of my daughters to remain single when they want to marry. I just wanted to keep Teresa close and protect her.”

  “I think the best way to protect her is to let others—not a lot of people, but a few who can help—know what’s going on with her.”

  “I do want to protect her. Take me to the doctor’s.”

  This conversation went better and easier than Amos imagined. The older man must have been ready. “Right now?”

  “Ja, right now. I shouldn’t wait.” Bartholomew had been ready for this step. He’d just needed a little nudge.

  “Do you want me to tell your daughters where we’re going and what you’re doing?”

  Bartholomew heaved a sigh. “They’ll want to come with us. I’ll go inside and tell them and call the doctor to let her know we’re coming.”

  Amos figur
ed at least one of his daughters would want to come, if not several of them. Would that be such a bad thing? He set to work on hitching the larger buggy while Bartholomew crutched inside.

  Soon, Amos had the buggy ready and parked in front of the house.

  Bartholomew, Deborah, Hannah and Lydia came out onto the porch. Ah. Deborah was coming. Gut.

  The girls climbed into the back. Before Amos could help Bartholomew into the front, the door opened again, and Teresa came out. “I’m not ready yet. Let me get my coat.”

  Bartholomew took his frau’s arm and spoke gently to her. “I need you to stay here with the younger children.”

  Teresa’s eyebrows scrunched down. “Stay? But...I...”

  Miriam joined them on the porch. “Mutter, I need your help hemming my dress.”

  Teresa’s eyes brightened. “Ja, I can help you.” She turned back to her husband. “I’m needed here, so I won’t be able to go with you.”

  Bartholomew smiled at his daughter, then at his frau. “That’s all right. Maybe next time.”

  The pair of women went back inside, and Amos helped Bartholomew maneuver his casted leg and his crutches into the buggy.

  Tension filled the buggy during the slow ride.

  Finally, they arrived at the doctor’s. It sure was nice to have one right in their community, and that she was one of their own, who understood so much more than an outsider could. Amos helped everyone out, and Noah Lambright, the doctor’s husband, took over the care of the horse and buggy so Amos could go inside the dawdy haus clinic with the others.

  With no other patients there, Dr. Kathleen offered them seats in the waiting room to accommodate their large group, which was too big to fit in the exam room comfortably. Since her sister had gone for the day, the doctor brought them each a cup of tea or coffee. “How are you doing, Bartholomew? Are you having any trouble with your shoulder or getting around on your crutches?”

  “Ne. I’m doing well.”

  “Are the physical-therapy exercises helping?”

  “Ja. We didn’t come for me.”

  Dr. Kathleen nodded. “Teresa?”

  Bartholomew took a slow breath. “Ja. She’s not doing well, as my daughters have already told you.”

  “I saw for myself. I’d like to do some tests, but I need your permission and to have access to her medical records.”

  “You have my permission.”

  “I’ll need it in writing.” Dr. Kathleen brought out the required documents, filled in the needed information and had Bartholomew sign them. “Now, tell me a bit about your frau’s medical history. When did you first notice something wasn’t quite right with her?”

  “When she was carrying Hannah and Lydia. I thought it was just part of being pregnant. But she continued after they were born for a few months and slowly returned to her normal self. She got worse with each successive pregnancy.”

  “Has she had any operations?”

  “She had one tonsil removed when she was six and again when she was ten, and her appendix out six months later.”

  Dr. Kathleen made notes. “Any accidents?”

  “She was in a buggy accident when she was three. Two of her siblings and her mutter didn’t survive, and she was in the hospital for a couple of weeks. She had a dizzy spell and fell while she was carrying Deborah, and when Deborah was born, Teresa lost a lot of blood.”

  Amos couldn’t imagine all that happening to one person.

  No wonder she forgot Deborah most. She’d had quite a bit of trauma with her. Amos glanced at Deborah. Her eyes glistened. Was she about to cry? He wanted to wipe away her tears.

  Bartholomew chuckled. “Not surprising that she doesn’t like doctors. She’s never had gut experiences with them.”

  Dr. Kathleen smiled. “I noticed. I hope to be as much her friend as her doctor. Childhood diseases?”

  “All the normal ones, chicken pox and the like.”

  Dr. Kathleen listed off a multitude of childhood diseases that Bartholomew answered affirmative to. “Chronic problems?”

  “Like what? Being forgetful and confused?”

  “Other things like a cough that won’t go away, regular headaches, persistent rash?”

  Bartholomew shook his head.

  Hannah jumped in. “She does get quite a few headaches, and her hands shake.”

  Lydia nodded her agreement.

  “Shake? How?”

  “Her hands are usually at her sides, and they twitch, sort of.” Hannah stood and demonstrated.

  “And the headaches? Is there anything different going on when she gets those? Same time of day? Certain situations?”

  Lydia answered this time, “When she’s stressed, which happens after she’s been confused. That’s when her hands shake most, too.”

  This time, Hannah nodded.

  Bartholomew stared at his twin daughters. “I had no idea.”

  Both gave him identical tight smiles, but Hannah spoke. “We handled it so you could take care of the farm.”

  Lydia spoke up. “But her episodes are getting more frequent.”

  “And lasting longer,” Hannah added. “We need to keep a constant watch on her.”

  From the stunned looks, neither Bartholomew nor Deborah knew any of this last part. Deborah swiped a tear from her cheek. Amos wished he could comfort her. Tell her everything would be all right.

  After all the questions were answered, Dr. Kathleen made arrangements to go to their house to draw blood for tests.

  Would Amos be invited to the appointment? What would the doctor ask all the others, and what would her diagnosis be? He would have to wait and see.

  He glanced at Deborah. She held her jaw stiff as though she had something important caught between her teeth. He wished there was something he could do for her.

  * * *

  Deborah struggled to hold her tears at bay the whole ride home from their visit to Dr. Kathleen’s. She had no idea her mutter had been through so much. Instead of going into the house with the others, she headed across the field to the pond. She plopped down on the fallen log and let the tears come.

  How could she not have known what her own mutter was going through? She had been selfish and thinking of only herself while her mutter suffered. Running off whenever she could. Behaving like a spoiled child. Parading in front of a camera. Should she quit modeling? How could she continue and help look after her mutter?

  “Deborah?”

  She jumped at her name, stood and turned to face Amos, slapping away her tears. “I...um...”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t want him, of all people, to see her as an emotional mess.

  “You heard some pretty upsetting things at the doctor’s. I suspect you didn’t know all that about your mutter.”

  Her emotions welled up and threatened to douse her in another wave of tears. Blinking several times, she swallowed hard. “I know now.”

  “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  He stepped forward and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “Then what’s this?” On his thumb sat a fledgling tear.

  His touch sent a shiver through her.

  “A raindrop?”

  He looked up at the cloudless sky. “Okay. A raindrop.”

  His sweetness opened the floodgates, and she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  Strong arms wrapped around her. “It’s going to be all right. Your mutter’s going to get the help she needs.”

  He shouldn’t be holding her. Though not forbidden, it was frowned upon, but she didn’t care. She needed the comfort. She needed the comfort from him. “I never knew she went through so much. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice.”

  “It sounded like they all did a gut job of hiding
her condition from you and everyone.”

  She pulled back but not out of his embrace. “I’m her daughter. I should have noticed.”

  “You did notice. You just interpreted the information inaccurately.”

  She considered that. She had noticed Mutter’s forgetfulness and took it as a personal affront. She’d noticed her mutter acting out of touch and assumed that was where Deborah had gotten her flights of fancy. And she’d noticed Mutter wandering off and thought she just liked walks alone, as Deborah did.

  She gritted her teeth to keep the tears at bay. No use. They came anyway. “I’m sorry. I’m a blubbering idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot. You’re a caring daughter.”

  His kindness overwhelmed her.

  Amos brushed away her tears again with his thumbs.

  She shouldn’t let him do that but reveled in his attention. It felt gut to have someone notice her and care about her. She gazed up into his sturdy brown eyes.

  He gazed back.

  Her insides wiggled. A pleasant yet scary feeling.

  She should move.

  But didn’t.

  She should look away.

  But didn’t.

  She should...

  “Deborah,” he whispered, inches from her face.

  His warm breath fanned her cheek.

  “Ja.”

  He leaned closer.

  Then she heard her name again as though from a faraway dream, but Amos hadn’t opened his mouth.

  She heard it again, shrill this time.

  Amos jerked away from her.

  Deborah stepped back.

  Naomi tromped toward them. “Vater wants you in the house.”

  Of course, Naomi would spoil the moment, but it was just as well. She had no right standing here with Amos. No right staring at him as though there was something between them.

  Her sister maneuvered between them to walk next to Amos.

  Deborah’s moment of being noticed had been crushed once again by Naomi.

  When she went inside the house, she found Hannah, Lydia and Miriam working in the kitchen. Joanna and Sarah’s voices came from the living room, as well as Mutter’s and Vater’s.