by Ruth Reid
Clint
Jordan stared at the screen, not sure how to feel now that he might actually get to spend time with his father. It didn’t seem real. “He’s coming to Michigan and wants me to go with him on his deliveries.”
Kayla smiled. “That’s great. When is he arriving?”
“I’m not sure. His rig is being repaired. He said he’d contact me when he gets to town.”
“I’ll let you know when he does.” She glanced at the house. “I think we have someone watching us.”
Jordan peered at the upstairs window just as Rachel pulled away.
He gave Kayla back her phone. “I should let you get home. We have church tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
As he climbed out, he looked up at Rachel’s bedroom window, now empty. His stomach knotted.
Rachel stared out the window in disbelief. One moment Jordan attempted to kiss her, and the next, he was sharing another girl’s company—in her truck. With the light on in the vehicle, Rachel could see them with their heads together, laughing.
How dare he toy with her heart.
She moved away from the window. “God, I wanted him to kiss me. I am so foolish to have believed his words to me.” She dropped to her knees beside her bed. “Lord, I ask that you forgive me. I’ve had a bad attitude for so long. Please forgive me. Help me to become the person you want me to be, a person pleasing to you. I love you, God. And I place mei trust in the plans you have for mei life. Even if they don’t include Jordan, or marriage.”
Nathaniel chanted praises to God. He celebrated his charge’s repentant heart because of the glory her sacrifice of praise offered to God.
Jordan stole a glance at Rachel seated on the women’s side of the barn. If today was like the other church services he’d attended, it was likely the bishop would dismiss them shortly.
During breakfast she refused to make eye contact with him. Either she was upset that he’d almost kissed her, or she was upset about him sitting with Kayla in her truck. Whatever the cause, he didn’t want her angry.
The moment the service ended, he headed toward the women’s side. Rachel stood with Naomi, and although Rachel glanced at him, she didn’t smile.
A heavy hand clapped his shoulder. Jordan turned to find Timothy standing beside him.
“Micah’s making gut progress.”
“He only limps slightly now.”
“I’m glad you’ve stayed to help him. As swamped as I’ve been, I wouldn’t have had much time.” Timothy glanced over his shoulder toward the women. “How are you and Rachel getting along?”
“She’s a great person.”
Timothy crossed his arms and grinned. “Jah . . . and . . .”
“She’s upset with me. Is that why you’re asking? Did she tell Sadie something?” Jordan furrowed his brows.
“Not that I’m aware of. Why is she upset?”
“I sat in Kayla Davy’s truck to read and respond to a text message. Rachel saw us. Now she’s avoiding me.” He kept silent about trying to kiss Rachel.
Timothy’s brows rose.
“She thinks I’m interested in Kayla. But I’m not.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note. “My father contacted me through Kayla’s e-mail.” He handed it to Timothy, not sure why he was compelled to explain his actions.
Timothy read the note and handed it back. “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
“Years. The only thing I remember is he had wavy dark hair.” Jordan folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. “He’s a truck driver.” He glanced at Rachel. She, Naomi, and three other girls, whose names he couldn’t ever get straight, stood together by the far table.
“I need to talk with her,” Jordan said. He quickly realized this wasn’t the place. Not with the entire church membership eyeing them.
Timothy clapped Jordan’s shoulder. “Pray about what to say. Maybe leaving isn’t the answer.”
Chapter Twenty
Rachel crawled on her hands and knees, sloshing the sudsy water over the plank floor.
Sadie entered the house, her arms loaded with material for sewing. “Ach, you’ve got a cool breeze in here.”
“I opened the windows to air the place out.” Rachel pushed off the floor and slid barefoot over to her sister. “The floor’s slippery, so watch your step.” She wiped her hands on the front of her dress, then reached for the bundle from her sister’s arms. “Mamm took Daed into town for his appointment. They shouldn’t be gone too long.”
“Spring cleaning?” Sadie teetered as she crossed the floor.
“Jah, I want to surprise Mamm.” Rachel set the stack of material on the kitchen table. “How are you feeling?”
“Very pregnant.” She lowered herself onto the chair and let out a slight groan. “It feels like an effort just to breathe.”
“Isn’t that what all pregnant women complain about?”
“Jah. So now I know.”
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Water sounds better.” Sadie propped her legs up on the opposite chair and puffed out a few quick breaths.
“Are you sure you feel up to sewing today?” Rachel filled a glass with tap water and handed it to her sister. “Your face is flushed and you look tired.”
“You sound like Timothy.”
Rachel smiled. “Perhaps you should listen to your husband.”
She filled another glass with water and sat across from Sadie.
“He would have me on bed rest.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “I have too much to do before the boppli arrives.” She winced and shifted into what looked like an uncomfortable position. Leaning to one side, Sadie held the lower section of her belly. “If the boppli isn’t kicking mei bladder, it’s poking at mei ribs.” She shifted again and the tension eased from her face. “Tell me about Jordan. Have you two had much time to talk?”
“About what?” Had word already spread about Jordan sitting in the truck with Kayla?
“Staying in the settlement? Joining the church?”
“Nett any more than what I told you.” Rachel took a drink, then set her glass on the table. “He wants to be a truck driver.”
Sadie frowned. “Don’t stop praying for him.”
“It’s hard.” She played with the glass, watching the water slosh gently inside it.
Sadie reached across the table and tapped Rachel’s hand. “I pray for you to find someone like mei Timothy. He is a gut man, Rachel. And a gut husband.” She flinched. “I want you and I to raise our children together.”
Leaning closer, Rachel whispered, “You need to listen to your wundebaar husband and rest.” She bounced to her feet. “I think I heard the door. Mamm and Daed must be back. ” Rachel rounded the corner and stopped.
Jordan was looking down at his boots and the tracks he made across the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were mopping.” He looked at her, embarrassed. “My footprints are going to dry and leave a film.”
“I suppose you have a secret for removing it.” She placed her fisted hand on her hip.
He grinned. “Don’t use soap.” He craned his head toward the kitchen. “Is Micah back from town?”
“Nay, is something wrong?”
“Maybe nothing, but I think someone should check the cow.”
“What’s wrong with the cow?”
“She’s acting strange. Why don’t you come with me?”
Rachel shoved her feet into a pair of boots near the door. “Sadie,” she called out. “I’m going to the barn. I’ll be back soon.”
Jordan pulled the door open and let her out first. Together they walked quickly to the barn.
“What’s she doing that’s strange?”
“You’ll just have to see.”
Rachel rushed inside the barn and over to the railing and peered at the cow. Wendy stood with her tail raised and her back arched. Anyone could see what was happening. “She’s ready to deliver.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay. What do we d
o?”
“Boil water,” she said in an urgent tone.
Jordan snapped a quick nod. “I’ll do it.” He spun toward the entrance.
“Hey.” She waited until he looked at her. “I’m joking.” She smirked until he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms.
“So what do we do?”
“We wait and see if she needs help.” Rachel glanced at Jordan. “How long has she been like this?”
“Most of the morning.”
“In contractions? When did her water sack break? Why didn’t you kumm get me earlier?”
“Take a deep breath.” Jordan mimicked breathing in through his nose and exhaling slowly.
“Tell that to the cow.”
Wendy’s abdomen tightened, actively trying to force the calf out.
“Funny.”
“I’ll get the supplies ready.” She headed for the storage room at the back of the barn, hoping when the time came she would recall all the steps her father followed when extracting a calf.
She flipped the wooden latch on the door to the storage room and fumbled around the long workbench for a pack of matches to light the lantern. Once she had the room illuminated, she worked fast to gather the supplies. Rags to wipe the calf’s nasal passages, iodine to apply to the umbilical area . . . She scanned the shelf for the mineral oil but settled for a container of lard.
Jordan entered the room. “Do you need help?”
“Jah, grab those ropes and chains hanging from the wall stud.”
Jordan did so without asking questions.
“Hopefully you won’t need to use all this,” she said, moving past him to return to the pen.
“Me?” He followed close on her heels.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “You’re the farmer. I just watch the cream separate.” She set the supplies down outside of the pen and glanced in at Wendy. Still standing. That was good. She remembered working with James and Daed trying to get Wendy up so they could apply the mechanical traction device.
“I’ve never delivered a calf before,” Jordan said.
Neither had she, but she’d watched a few deliveries. She squatted next to the supplies and grabbed the bar of soap. “You need to get prepared,” she said, heading for the door.
He trekked behind her. “Okay. What’s first?”
Once she reached the pump, she handed him the soap. Without saying anything, she pumped the handle to prime the water.
“Here, I can do that.” He handed her the bar of soap and took control of the handle. “Are you still sore about the other day?”
“What about it?” She lathered her hands.
He stopped pumping. “That I almost kissed you.”
She pushed up her sleeves, then lathered her forearms. “Did you try to kiss Kayla too, or did you actually do it?” She looked at the dry pump opening, then at him. “I need water to rinse.”
“I’ve never wanted to kiss her.” He pumped the handle until water spewed with the force he put into pumping. “I wanted to kiss you. You ran away.”
She scrubbed her hands more aggressively than needed. “I think you’re confused about Kayla.”
“What if I was?” He sounded sarcastic, demanding.
“God is nett the author of confusion.”
He shook his head and quit pumping. “How long before your daed returns?”
“Hopefully soon.” She stuck her hands under the water and rinsed. She needed to concentrate on Wendy instead of Jordan and Kayla. Rachel had looked forward to the day she could prove her skills, but not like this, not without her father’s help.
The screen door creaked and Sadie stuck her head out. “Is everything okay?”
Rachel continued rinsing her hands. “Jah. Wendy’s going to deliver shortly is all.”
“Is all,” Jordan huffed under his breath.
“Ach, that’s wundebaar.” Sadie went back inside.
Rachel stepped away from the water. “Your turn.” She tossed him the soap.
Jordan rolled up one sleeve at a time. “I thought animals didn’t need help birthing their young.”
“Jah, most don’t.” She wished Wendy wasn’t one who did.
When he finished washing, he raised his hands and the water dripped down his forearms. “Now what?”
“We see if she’s progressed.” Rachel headed back to the barn.
“And if she hasn’t?” His words ran together as he kept her pace.
“We wait.” She paused at the entrance. “If she senses you’re nervous and becomes excitable, her labor might be delayed.”
“That’s good, right?” He must have read her facial expression because his smile faded.
“Delaying labor might endanger the calf.”
Finding Wendy straining in an awkward head-down-and-back-arched position, Rachel’s breath caught. This calf wasn’t waiting much longer. She unlatched the gate.
Jordan grabbed her wrist. “Where are you going?” His eyes darted between her and the cow, then steadied on her. “She . . . she looks uncomfortable. She might kick.”
Wendy snorted and shifted her stance, and her abdomen muscles relaxed.
“She stopped. That’s good, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Deep creases spread across his forehead.
She had to find something to keep Jordan occupied. “Do you have the time?”
He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a watch. “Half past two.”
“Denki.” She turned and studied Wendy.
It seemed forever before the cow bore down again for another contraction. When Jordan reported the time, only ten minutes had passed. The cycle repeated in ten-minute increments for the next two hours before the contractions appeared to stop completely.
She kept her eye trained on Wendy. “How long has it been?”
“Twenty minutes,” he said.
Wendy kicked her hind foot up against her stomach. A few minutes passed and Rachel said, “How long nau?”
“Eight minutes.”
“Let’s get her into the birthing chute.” She pointed to the narrow, standing-only-space pen. “In there.” Rachel eased into the stall, took hold of the cow’s halter, and tugged hard. Wendy wouldn’t budge.
Jordan slipped into the stall. “Why are you trying to move her?”
“Daed puts the ones not progressing in there to keep them standing while he pulls the calf out.” She beckoned for him. “Give her a nudge.”
“I’m probably going to get kicked,” he mumbled.
The cow strained as another contraction began. This time, amber fluid gushed out and soaked Jordan’s shirt and pants.
“Ach, gut.” Rachel smiled.
“Good?” Jordan echoed. “You could have warned me.”
She didn’t remember the fluid being that viscous. Her smile faded. The calf might be stillborn. Rachel yanked on the halter, but Wendy dropped to her front knees, then rolled on her side.
Jordan stared wide-eyed at the cow.
Rachel reached between the fence boards and grabbed the can of lard.
“Hold out your hands.” She opened the lid.
“Why?”
“I’m going to grease you up.” Rachel scooped a handful of lard out from the can, then reached for his hand. His forearm muscles tensed as she lathered him with lubricant.
Jordan jerked his hand away. “Oh no!”
“Shh.” She looked at Wendy, but the motionless cow didn’t seem concerned with his raised voice.
Jordan leaned closer. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We need to know what position the calf is in.” At least that was what Daed told James.
“Are you crazy?” His voice rose again.
She disregarded him and crouched next to Wendy. She picked up the cow’s tail and gently pulled it to the side, then beckoned Jordan. “Kumm on.” When he hesitated, she released the tail. “Jordan, I’m nett strong enough to reposition the calf.”
He snorted but m
oved close enough that Wendy swatted him with her tail before Rachel had a chance to grab hold of it again.
“I don’t think she wants us in here.”
“It really doesn’t matter what she wants right now. We will do what is best even though it may not feel like it to her.”
“Why is this necessary?” He looked very uncomfortable. If this wasn’t such a serious situation, it would be funny.
“Wendy needed help during the last delivery. I watched Daed and James do this.” She stroked the cow. “You see anything?”
His face skewed as he reluctantly looked at the cow. “No.”
“Then go inside.”
“You’re joking, right?”
She gave him a look that he obviously understood. She wasn’t joking.
Jordan inhaled a deep breath and inched his hand closer to the opening but jerked it back before making contact.
“You can do it. Hold your fingers close together.” She demonstrated. His jaw twitched.
He rolled his shoulders, cranked his neck side to side, then finally lifted his hand to the birth canal. His face turned a paler shade.
“Are you okay?”
“I might vomit.”
His voice quivered and he looked away from her. She never considered he might have a weak stomach. He needed to focus.
She didn’t see anything but Jordan’s arm. “Do you feel the calf?”
He snapped his head in her direction. With teeth clenched, he said, “I don’t know how to describe what I feel.”
“Is it a hoof?”
“I think I’d know that.” He snorted.
She leaned closer. He was only in mid-forearm. “Daed was in as far as his elbows.”
He closed his eyes and his Adam’s apple moved down his neck. “There’s a foot.”
“Front or back?”
His eyes shot open. “How would I know? It’s not like I can see it.” Jordan’s face contorted as Wendy strained in a contraction. He removed his hand and bolted for the corner of the stall. Bent at the waist, he dry heaved.
