Seeing what Adam had laid out on his workbench, he let out a long, low whistle. “Taking it apart I could probably do, but how do you put it back together?”
“It’s not so hard. I always start at this end of the table.” Adam indicated the right side of the bench. “Top to bottom, right to left. My process never varies. They go back together in the same order they came apart.”
Together they walked the length of the bench until they came to the skeleton of the chainsaw.
“Not much left when you’re done disassembling it.”
“True. A few minutes before you arrived I’d finished cleaning all the parts. Now I’ll go back through and put them together, being sure to properly grease each part as I do.”
“You make it sound easy.”
Adam ran his fingers through his beard. “I suppose a gut memory helps, but then you remember your herbs and what to give for which ailment.”
“I have a few books I refer to,” Samuel admitted, perching on a sawhorse.
“I have one or two myself. If I’m stumped, Leah and I will take a ride to the town’s library.”
“Leah’s actually one of the reasons I stopped by. I wanted to see how she was doing.”
“Oh.” Adam glanced toward the house, shook his head, and then focused on the engine again. “She and Annie aren’t back from town yet.”
“Didn’t figure they would be. I saw Belinda yesterday and she updated me on Leah’s medical stats.” Samuel ran his palm over the sawhorse. “Belinda was the one who suggested I stop by and talk to you.”
“To me?” Adam’s voice squeaked like the hinge on the back kitchen door Samuel had been intending to oil. “Why talk to me? I know next to nothing about pregnant women.”
Samuel laughed. “Pregnant women, maybe, but I imagine you know plenty about Leah.”
“You might be surprised.” Adam began piecing the small engine back together. Working on the engine felt good. At least it was one thing he was confident he knew how to do. “Why would Belinda send you to talk to me?”
Though the day was cool, suddenly sweat beaded along Adam’s forehead. “Is something wrong? Is that why you’re here?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Belinda thought maybe Leah wasn’t being completely open with her. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well or she was worried about something. Belinda tried to get her to talk, but Leah clammed up tighter than a silo in a winter storm. So she asked me to come and talk with you—see if there’s anything she should be concerned about. We want this pregnancy to go as smoothly as possible. No surprises.”
Adam stopped pretending he could focus on the engine. At this rate, he’d make such a mess of things it would likely resemble an Englisch blender when he was done with it. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he turned and trudged toward the open door of the barn. The sunshine on his face helped. It didn’t provide any of the answers he’d been searching for, but it helped.
“Adam? Are there any surprises we should know about? It’s difficult enough to birth twins at home. If there’s anything you can tell us—”
“Surprises? Seems to me there’s been nothing but surprises since the day Leah learned she was carrying my child.” The words weren’t easy for Adam to speak. They echoed in the barn, sounding to him like a confession, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he was guilty of. If he had known, he would have gone to the bishop already. As it was, he continued to toss sleeplessly each night—usually on the couch in their small living room.
Samuel joined him in the patch of sunlight coming through the doorway of the barn. “She was sick at first. I remember that.”
“You make it sound as if she had a cold. It was so much worse, Samuel. Leah spent several hours each morning in the bathroom, clutching the toilet. I’m grateful we don’t live in a district that still insists on outhouses or my wife would have caught pneumonia, she spent so much time in there.”
“I’m sure it must have been hard—”
“I wasn’t allowed in there,” Adam continued. “For two years, nearly three, we shared everything. Suddenly, she didn’t want me near her. As if she was embarrassed.”
“Maybe she was.”
Adam reversed direction, nearly bumping into Samuel. “Why would she be embarrassed? It wasn’t her fault the babies were making her sick. We didn’t even know at that point there were two . . . two, Samuel. Do you realize how exciting it is, and how terrifying? I’m not sure I can be a gut dat to one, but we’ll have two at the same time.”
“Let me see if I have this straight.” Samuel walked out into the sunshine, to the pasture fence where he could see the workhorses Adam had allowed out for the afternoon. “Leah had a bad case of morning sickness, which lasted longer than most. It had barely ended when you learned she was pregnant with twins.”
“Ya, I suppose the timing is about right.”
“How have things been since then?”
Adam noticed that Samuel wasn’t limiting his questions to asking about Leah anymore, but he didn’t call him on it. “I don’t know. How are things supposed to be with a pregnant woman? She doesn’t sleep well, so most nights I sleep on the couch. I don’t want to wake her when I get up at the crack of dawn.”
“And her moods?”
Adam threw his hands up in the air. “About the same as a donkey you might be tempted to purchase. Not that I’m comparing my fraa to a donkey, though her temperament is similar.”
Samuel grinned. “Cranky is normal.”
“Oh, not always cranky. Sometimes she cries on top of the temper.”
Samuel laughed outright. “You’re giving me something to look forward to with your schweschder. You know that, right?”
“You’re the doc for our district—”
“I’m not a doctor, Adam.”
“Fine—herbalist. Whatever you want to call yourself, you’ve helped Belinda birth plenty of babies—you’ve birthed them yourself when she couldn’t be there. I’d think you would be used to pregnant women.”
Samuel pushed his hat more firmly on his head as a buggy pulled into Adam’s lane. “Tending to a woman who is expecting a child is one thing. Living with her is another completely.”
“That’s it? That’s the best advice you can give me?”
They moved together toward the women. “I’m not going to pretend I have the answers, Adam. Leah needs to know you love her. The bopplin will be born soon and you’ll have more sleepless nights ahead. Before you know it though—you’ll have your bride back.”
Adam wasn’t so sure about that, but when Leah first caught sight of him, when she raised her hand and waved and the smile he knew so well covered her face—he temporarily forgot about all the things that usually stole his sleep. For that moment, he could trust what Samuel had just told him was true.
Annie was anxious to get home and speak with Samuel. Leah had finally opened up to her a little on the ride home from town. She didn’t think her bruder’s wife had shared everything bothering her, but she’d shared enough. She’d liked to have stayed and fetched a rolling pin and threatened Adam with it.
Somehow, she didn’t think that was in keeping with the Ordnung. Too bad, because Adam was one stubborn guy—she should know from her years growing up in the same house with him. Maybe Samuel would have some ideas on how to talk some sense into him. Maybe Samuel had experienced similar feelings when his first wife, Mary, was pregnant.
Annie didn’t bring up Mary and Hannah often. She didn’t want to break open old wounds, and it would seem the death of his wife and child, though the accident had been over ten years ago, would still be a painful thing. Samuel had made it clear when they married that no topic was off-limits. She trusted him when he said it; however, she would only ask about Mary if it seemed prudent to do so. Perhaps Samuel would have some ideas about her bruder without having to broach how he had reacted to his first wife’s pregnancy.
So far, he’d been perfectly patient with her.
But then, she’d had none of the complications L
eah had endured.
Yet.
Thankfully, they had nothing scheduled for the afternoon except a simple meal for dinner. They had done the cleaning for tomorrow’s luncheon the day before. She might also have time to work on the quilt. She was happy with her pattern. If she could gather the correct templates, maybe she could begin on her sample square.
Pulling into the lane to their home, Samuel’s buggy tagging along behind hers, she was surprised to see a buggy waiting near their front porch.
She didn’t recognize the buggy at first, but as she drew closer, she did recognize the couple—
Jesse and Mattie Lapp. They lived on the outer edge of their district. An older couple, in their sixties, they seldom came to town for anything other than the twice-monthly church meeting.
Annie didn’t bother driving her buggy to the barn. She pulled up beside them, barely taking time to wind Beni’s reins around the front porch railing. Fortunately, her mare was well trained and content to be home.
The Lapp’s mare, however, seemed agitated. Annie took a moment to pat the neck of the animal and murmur a word of peace to her. Mr. Lapp was still in the front seat of the buggy, though it was plain he had not been driving. Mattie had been. Now she was hovering over her husband, whispering to him. She didn’t so much as glance up as Annie approached their buggy.
“Jesse. Mattie. Is everything all right?”
Samuel was beside her by the time she’d reached the door and peeked inside. Annie could tell immediately that something was terribly wrong. Jesse lay back against the buggy seat. His breathing was shallow and his skin clammy and pale.
“I’ll fetch my bag,” Samuel whispered. “Don’t attempt to move him.”
“How long have you been here, Mattie?”
“Maybe thirty minutes. We didn’t know where else to go. Jesse was having the pains again, so we waited for them to pass. When they didn’t . . .” Her hands came out and fluttered around as if she had no control over them. Though she was talking to Annie, her eyes never left her husband’s face. She seemed afraid to glance away, afraid to take her eyes off him even for a second. “I didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to get in the buggy, but I didn’t know what to do. I made him get in. Practically had to drag him. Was that the right thing to do, Annie? He won’t talk.”
“You’re talking enough for both of us, woman.”
Mattie was Annie’s height and still worked hard around her farm each day. She had added weight through the years, but her arms were strong. Annie had no trouble picturing her hitching up the wagon and driving it to their porch steps, before dragging Jesse up into it. How long would that have taken?
Annie allowed a small smile. “It seems he hears us fine.”
She angled around Mattie. “Jesse, I want you to lie down across the buggy seat. Can you do that for me?”
The fact that he didn’t argue with her was a worry. What Amish man would lie down in the front of his buggy without protesting? If she had been compiling a chart, she would have written that Jesse’s appearance was similar to most men in their sixties who had the potential for heart problems. Though thin men certainly had heart problems, it seemed to Annie that often there was a particular shape, whether Englisch or plain. Jesse had it—the pear-shaped stomach and barrel chest. It was a stereotype, but as one professor had taught her, “medical stereotypes exist because they are often true.”
Mattie’s hands fluttered over his chest, his beard, his cheeks. “Ohhh. Ohhh, he’s dying isn’t he? I know it. Oh, my sweet Jesus. He’s headed home.”
“Mattie.” Annie automatically fell into the role of nursing. She kept her voice calm but firm. “Mattie, look at me.”
Samuel was back. Annie had to pull Mattie out of the buggy so Samuel could squeeze in and use his stethoscope to check Jesse’s heart rate.
“He’s dying, Annie.” Mattie’s voice rose to a near wail. “He promised never to leave me, and he’s dying.”
“Mattie, I need you to help us. Can you do that?”
The older woman swiped at the tears flowing down her face, pushed her hair back into her kapp, and nodded.
“I need you to go into the house and wet a cloth. Wet two. Wring them out well so they’re not dripping and bring them back. Also, bring me a glass of water. Samuel will have some aspirin for Jesse to take and he might like a sip of water.”
Mattie nodded but remained frozen in place.
“We’ll stay with him, Mattie.”
“What if he goes? What if he goes while I’m gone?”
“We’re with him, honey. You go for the cloth. And don’t forget the glass of water.”
As soon as Mattie was hurrying toward the house, Annie pushed her head back into the buggy. Samuel was crouched in the floor area and Jesse was still lying across the seat. “Heart attack?”
“Appears to be. Jesse, how are you feeling?”
“Not so gut.” He didn’t open his eyes, but his voice had gained some strength.
“Blood pressure’s too low,” Samuel muttered. “Jesse, have you been prescribed any nitroglycerin pills?”
Jesse shook his head no.
Annie heard the front screen door to their house slam shut. She glanced up in time to see Mattie running toward them, running with the cloth and glass of water.
Samuel pulled the bottle of baby aspirin from his medical bag. “I want you to chew two of these for me. They’re going to help.”
Jesse struggled to sit up. Annie hurried around the buggy in order to position herself behind him. As she rushed around the back of the buggy, something told her she might be too late. When she arrived at the other side and saw the expression on Samuel’s face, she understood then what had started as a beautiful winter Saturday was turning into one of tragedy.
4
Annie stared at Samuel as Jesse clutched his chest.
Mattie hadn’t quite reached the buggy, but she would in another few seconds. She would see Jesse was having another heart attack.
“Annie, run to the barn. Use the phone to call 9-1-1. Go now!” Samuel’s voice was calm, but it received no argument. He’d dropped the unopened bottle of aspirin back into his bag and had already begun loosening Jesse’s collar. When Jesse slumped back against the seat, slumped back lifeless, Samuel began to administer CPR.
Annie backed out of the buggy, nearly tripping over her dress.
Mattie saw her and stopped. She dropped the glass of water and the dish towel in the dirt. “Where are you going?”
“To the barn. Help Samuel!” Annie ran, thanking Gotte as she did that the bishop had allowed the phone installation a year ago. It was a phone much like those in the shacks dotting the countryside throughout the community. Bishop Levi had decided that with Annie and Samuel married, and with them both helping meet the medical needs of their district, it was prudent to allow the exception to their rule of no phones.
She ran and placed the call even as she heard Mattie’s crying. And as she went through those motions, she prayed—for Gotte’s help. For Samuel’s strength, so he could continue performing CPR until the ambulance arrived. For Mattie, so she would feel a sense of calm. For Jesse, so his heart would beat again. For herself, so she would know how to help.
For Gotte’s wille.
The emergency dispatcher informed her it would take ten to twelve minutes for an ambulance to reach their address.
She hung up the phone and returned to Samuel, but this time she didn’t run. This time she was more mindful of the child she was carrying inside her, though she didn’t think running would hurt her. Many pregnant women were joggers, but she wasn’t used to running—and this was a stressful and emotional situation. So, instead of running, she walked quickly and focused on remembering all of her training on the cardiac ward.
It had been a mere six weeks’ rotation.
And it had taken place over three years ago.
In the hospital, they had an external defibrillator, which she had used one time. She and Samuel weren�
�t equipped with any such device. There would be no way to administer an electrical shock to Jesse’s heart if it had stopped beating completely. No, they could only do their best to provide what medical care they were able and continue the CPR, which she could see Samuel was still performing.
“I can do that,” she whispered. “They trained me at Mercy Hospital.”
“Nein. I’m gut.” Sweat was beading on his brow. How long had he been at it? Three minutes? Four?
Mattie sat on the ground beside the buggy, weeping and praying. The German words flowed out of her, out from her heart and onto the cold ground.
Annie crawled into the buggy, placed her fingers gently against Jesse’s wrist though she didn’t expect to find anything. “Samuel! He has a pulse. It’s weak, but—”
Samuel stopped pumping on Jesse’s chest and placed his stethoscope there. “Ya. His heart is beating. How long until the ambulance arrives?”
“Five, maybe six, minutes.”
“Try to get a blood pressure for me.”
She was already slipping the cuff over his arm.
Jesse began to stir, though he didn’t speak.
“Glad to have you back, Jesse.” Samuel knelt beside him in the buggy, next to Annie in the floor area, which was no easy task. “You gave us a quite a scare.”
Jesse said nothing, but he did chew the aspirin Samuel slipped into his mouth. Mattie popped up at Jesse’s name.
“Is he alive?”
“He is, Mattie. It would seem that Gotte heard your prayers.”
Pressing the top of her head to the top of her husband’s, she began weeping in earnest.
Annie raised her eyes from Jesse, from monitoring him, to glance at Samuel. They shared one of those priceless moments, a heartbeat of life she understood was precious. It would stand out in her memory even when she was old and the curls beneath her prayer kapp were gray. It reminded her of the time they had helped to birth Faith and Aaron’s baby—the first miracle they had witnessed together. Surely, this was another.
At that moment, the ambulance hurried down the lane, lights flashing and siren blaring.
The Christmas Quilt (Quilts of Love Series) Page 3
