Phoebe's Gift

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Speak for yourself,” someone hollered, and laughter rippled again.

  Phoebe retreated with the women to the water trough, where they removed most of the soot from their arms and faces. Aunt Millie appeared with washcloths and soap, which took off the rest.

  Phoebe dried her arms on a towel and caught sight of David near the barn door. He was busy sawing pieces of lumber while someone shouted measurements to him from inside the barn. She hadn’t seen him earlier in the crowd, but that wasn’t surprising. David wouldn’t go out of his way to attract attention. Eventually, though, he would become the confident man in public he was around the farm. Phoebe followed the motions of his arm as he cut another piece of wood.

  “You really are taken with him.” Ruth’s voice at her elbow made Phoebe jump.

  “Yah, I like your brother.”

  A slight smile played on Ruth’s face. “I’m glad. He deserves your love.”

  Phoebe hid her blush behind the towel. Ruth giggled at Phoebe’s embarrassment.

  “Has he gotten up the nerve to ask you?” Ruth asked in a sly whisper.

  “Ruth,” Phoebe scolded.

  Ruth’s smile only grew.

  Phoebe gathered up her own courage. “How did you make out with Cousin Herman?”

  Ruth sobered at once. “Maybe I shouldn’t be asking questions.”

  “I’m glad if he has kind feelings for you,” Phoebe assured her. “But I’m sorry about Ethan. I know his rejection must hurt.”

  Ruth nodded and looked away. Phoebe handed the towel to one of the other women, and the push of the crowd separated her from Ruth. She hoped she and Ruth could talk more later.

  David, bent over his saw, held Phoebe’s attention until she slipped into the house. Aunt Millie stood near the front door, giving instructions to the women as they came in.

  “The pudding,” she told Phoebe. “You would be the perfect person to make the pudding.”

  “Can Ruth help me?” Phoebe asked.

  “Of course!”

  Phoebe waited until Ruth entered the house. Then she grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her toward the kitchen. “You are to help me with the pudding.”

  “How’s school going, Ruth?” one of the women near the counter asked.

  “Just fine,” Ruth chirped.

  Phoebe found the ingredients and the bowls in Aunt Millie’s pantry. She and Ruth set things up at a corner of the kitchen table. They read the recipe together and bent over their work, but their heads jerked up when they heard a commotion at the front door.

  One of the children hollered, “Someone’s been hurt!”

  “Oh, no!” Ruth groaned. “Now what?”

  The sentiment swept through the kitchen, and the women dropped their tasks to rush outside.

  “Who is it?” everyone asked one another.

  Phoebe kept close to Ruth as they made their way to the outskirts of the crowd. “You’re not thinking what I’m thinking?” Phoebe asked.

  “I’m afraid I am,” Ruth whispered back.

  Phoebe held onto Ruth’s arm as they pushed closer to the small of group of men gathered in front of the barn. A few of them kept the children from coming too close. The spot where everyone focused was exactly where David had been working only a short time before.

  Ruth clung to Phoebe, and somehow they managed to move forward. Phoebe choked back the sob that caught in her throat. Surely not…David was here to help, not to suffer. And what if… She stopped the dreadful thought. She would not let her mind go there.

  “It’s David Fisher,” one of the men said. “Come.” He took Ruth’s arm, and Phoebe stayed close on her other side. Her legs would barely hold her, but she must be with David—whatever had happened.

  The sight made the earth move all around her. She only stayed upright because of Ruth’s supporting hand. David was covered in blood and lay against the sawhorses, his head listing to one side. A scream threatened to come out of her mouth, a horrible shriek no Amish woman should ever utter, but she stifled the urge and struggled to gather her emotions. She must be strong, and David was not dead.

  Silently, she forced her feet to move forward and then rushed to his side, nearly falling into his lap. Strong arms held her, and she didn’t bother to look up to see whose they were. Slowly she was lowered to the ground beside David. She cradled his head and whispered his name. “David. David, can you hear me?”

  She was not his promised one, and they weren’t even dating officially, but this was not a moment to stand on technicalities. The men around her would have to think what they would. David worked on her farm. That would suffice as an explanation for the present.

  His sister’s concerned face came into focus, bent low over her brother. “He’s cut his arm badly,” Ruth told her.

  Phoebe hadn’t seen the tourniquet tied to David’s arm. All she had noticed was his crumpled form. The horror of what might be had gripped her.

  “I’m okay,” David whispered. “I was just careless—rushing too much, I guess. The wood slipped, and the saw…” His words faded.

  “Hush. Don’t speak,” Phoebe said softly. His head seemed heavy against her shoulder, his strength gone. But this was still David. Laid low, yah, but the man she loved. He would live. That was enough for now. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. She pulled him closer. She didn’t care who saw.

  “You have to let him breathe,” Ruth warned, and Phoebe released her tight hold on him a little.

  No one took him away from her. There was a faint wail of sirens in the distance, followed by louder ones.

  Phoebe asked the men standing around, “Why is an ambulance coming?”

  “He’ll need stitches, and maybe even surgery,” one of the men answered. “An artery was cut, I think. That needs a doctor.”

  True, but she didn’t want to let go of him, and she couldn’t go along with him to the hospital.

  “Will you go with him?” Phoebe asked Ruth. “And stay with him until he’s safe?”

  “Yah, of course,” Ruth assured her.

  “I’ll be okay,” David protested with some of his usual vigor.

  His face was white, though, and his pulse weak. Phoebe realized she held his uninjured wrist and had been counting his heartbeats unconsciously.

  The wail of the ambulance pierced Phoebe’s ears as the vehicle bounced into Aunt Millie’s driveway and pulled past the long line of buggies.

  “I love you so much, David,” she whispered in his ear. She kissed his cheek.

  A faint smile played on his face. “I should have injured myself sooner.”

  “David Fisher!”

  Ruth pulled on Phoebe’s arm. “Time to let go, Phoebe. The EMTs are here.”

  The ambulance attendants examined David while they listened to the men’s explanations.

  “Nice tourniquet,” one of the EMTs said.

  Several of the Amish men chuckled. “That’s my blue bandana tied to my brother’s,” Uncle Rueben told them. “Worked, I guess.”

  David was lifted onto a gurney and wheeled toward the ambulance. True to her word, Ruth stayed by her brother’s side and hopped into the vehicle with him. Someone would see that things were taken care of from here. As usual, Leroy was nowhere in sight, having found more urgent duties on his own farm for the day.

  But the family’s reputation would change soon for David. Grandma had seen to that, and Phoebe had kissed David on the cheek in front of everyone. Heat rushed into her face as the ambulance backed out of Uncle Rueben’s driveway. What thoughts to think at a moment like this. But she would kiss David a hundred times more in front of the whole congregation if doing so would bring him back to full health. Phoebe tried to slow her rapid breathing. The doctors would take care of David, and time would heal the cut. Nothing had happened which couldn’t be made right again. She had to believe that.

  Uncle Rueben echoed her thoughts from a few feet away. “He’ll be okay.”

  Soon Aunt Millie appeared out of the crowd and slipped her a
rm around Phoebe’s shoulders. Together they watched the ambulance leave.

  “I’m so sorry that all these bad things happen to you on our place,” Aunt Millie muttered. “Soon you won’t come over anymore.”

  Phoebe managed to chuckle. “You know that’s not true.”

  “At least David didn’t burn down my barn,” Uncle Rueben joked.

  “Rueben!” Aunt Millie scolded. “How dare you.”

  “Sorry,” Uncle Rueben said. “I was the one who got the tourniquet on the man so quickly, so don’t be too hard on me.”

  “Oh dear me.” Aunt Millie let go of Phoebe to scurry to her husband’s side. “I didn’t mean any harshness. All of our nerves are on edge. First the fire and now the accident.”

  “We should pray,” Uncle Rueben said, and numerous voices echoed the sentiment. Men took off their hats and everyone bowed their heads in prayer.

  “Our dear Father in heaven,” Uncle Rueben prayed, “we thank You that protection has been given again as another accident has occurred. We do not question Your hand, but give You praise and glory instead. You know what is best, and do all things after the council of Your own will. Be with us now for the rest of the day, and shed Your grace and mercy upon Your weak and unworthy creatures. Amen.”

  The amen was repeated several times as the men turned back to their work. Aunt Millie appeared at Phoebe’s side again. They made their way to the house, where Phoebe paused on the front porch to listen for the sound of the siren in the distance.

  “The Lord will be with him,” Aunt Millie assured her. “Come in and sit down on the couch.”

  “I will not. I will finish the pudding I was working on.”

  “No use for theatrics, dear,” Aunt Millie chided. “There are plenty of people here to finish the lunch preparations.”

  Phoebe tried to protest, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. Where had her resolutions flown off to? She should be strong in the face of adversity, but the memory of David’s slumped form seemed to drain her blood. What if Uncle Rueben hadn’t been so quick with the tourniquet? What if David had been working alone on his daett’s farm when the wood slipped? David should never have been working with a saw today. He wasn’t a carpenter, but a farmer. Her thoughts raced, and Phoebe stilled them. After settling herself on the couch, she smiled weakly at Aunt Millie. “I think you are right. I had best rest.”

  “That a goot girl.” Aunt Millie patted her shoulder. “You stay right there until lunch is ready.”

  The bustle of the food preparations continued in the kitchen, and the occasional woman walked past her and offered her muttered sympathies.

  “At least it wasn’t a broken leg. Those can take eight weeks to heal,” someone said.

  “He’ll be better quickly with a few stitches in his arm.”

  “You’ll have forgotten this happened in a few weeks,” another added.

  Phoebe nodded her thanks each time but didn’t offer a reply. She couldn’t find the words. A great weakness gripped her that wouldn’t leave. She had never loved a man as she loved David, and to see him… A shudder ran all the way through her. She must not entertain these dark memories. She would love David even more ferociously after this. She would trust the Lord and His almighty hand. How else would one dare love when the pain of loss could sting so deeply? She still had David, and he would be there once he had healed.

  David loved her, and she loved him. He would not forget that. Phoebe hid her tears and tried to smile as the women bustled around the kitchen.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Sunday afternoon after the church service, Phoebe unhitched Misty and left her in Grandma’s barn before walking south on Burrell Road. A warm breeze pushed stray strands of hair across her cheeks. She tucked them back under her kapp and bowed her head. How many times had David made this walk north, even though she hadn’t been down to see his family since the children began arriving at the farm? Maybe the accident was the Lord’s way of reminding her that the road ran both ways. David had never complained, but the truth was a visit to the Fisher family was long overdue. She had practically claimed David as her promised one, and now that she knew of Leroy’s role in Grandfather Tobias’s death, the tension between their families must be addressed beyond the conversation she had with David.

  Phoebe quickened her step. “David’s home from the hospital and in goot spirits,” his mamm had told her this morning at the service.

  She could barely wait to ask, “Can I visit?”

  Priscilla’s smile had come just as quickly. “Of course, dear. You are always welcome at our house.” Clearly, Priscilla carried none of her husband’s hostility toward the world or the Lapp family in particular.

  Phoebe glanced around as she approached the Fishers’ driveway. Their buggy sat by the barn with the shafts turned sideways. Leroy could not do anything right, even parking a buggy in its proper place—but David was not like his daett. Phoebe took a deep breath and knocked on the front door.

  Priscilla’s voice called at once, “Come in, Phoebe.”

  She opened the door and saw David propped up on the couch with pillows on each side of him. “David!” Her hands flew to her face. He appeared pale and weak, so unlike his usual healthy self.

  “It’s better than it looks. I’m fine. Do you want to sit?”

  Priscilla produced a chair because David occupied the whole couch. Phoebe sat down before her legs gave way. “What did they do to you?” she asked. She stared at his bandage. “I knew it was bad, but—”

  “A few stitches, that’s all.” He tried to grin. “Really. I’ll be goot as new by Monday morning.”

  “You’re not coming up to the farm,” she ordered. “Not until you’ve regained your strength. I can manage for a week on my own.”

  “A week, Phoebe?” He appeared horror-struck. “I’m coming up the minute I can stand up.”

  Priscilla cleared her throat beside them. “Maybe I’ll leave you two alone so you can talk this out. But let me assure you, Phoebe, that he’s not leaving the house a minute before he should.”

  Phoebe let out a long breath. “I’m glad to hear that. Of course you wouldn’t allow him to be foolish, Priscilla.”

  “I’m still his mother,” Priscilla said. She smiled at her son before heading toward the kitchen.

  David made a face. “I hate this mothering and smothering. I was ready to get back on my feet today. I could easily have gone to morning services.”

  Phoebe gave him a glare. “Thank the Lord someone has some sense.” He chuckled, and she continued. “What happened yesterday? Can you give me more details?”

  “I can’t remember everything the doctor told me, but a large vein was severed. Thankfully, no tendon was snipped. The saw went lengthwise and not across.”

  “Oh, David!” She reached over to hold the hand of his undamaged arm.

  “I remember our parting,” he said with a grin.

  “Stop it.”

  “The cut was almost worth the kiss,” he teased.

  Phoebe covered her face with both hands. “I’m so embarrassed, and to think that… Well, I was caught up in the moment.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I love you.”

  Phoebe peeked out from between her fingers to see his big grin. “You are a very naughty boy,” she told him.

  “I don’t take back one word,” he said, his grin still in place. “I still have the kiss right here.” He tapped his cheek with his finger.

  Phoebe’s hands covered her face again. “I’m leaving if you don’t quit this,” she warned.

  David chuckled and reached over with his free hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just so glad to see you.”

  “Okay, that’s better.” Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief. “But I still want to know how the cut happened. You are not a careless man. Did someone trip over the sawhorse or walk into your board?”

  His face darkened for a moment.

  “I want to know, David.” She held his arm again.

  �
��It’s not what you think,” he finally said. “This was my fault. I was trying to…” He looked away. “I don’t know. I don’t want to say it, Phoebe. I’m still new at this. You and me…” He had tears in his eyes. “I was trying to impress your uncle by working fast. That’s the truth, if you must know.”

  “Oh, David, you should stop that. No one needs to be impressed. The community accepts you and would accept the rest of your family if your daett would simply accept forgiveness. Grandma forgave him. I know she did because I read the words she wrote in her prayer journal after the accident.”

  “You are right,” he agreed. “I shouldn’t have been trying to impress anyone.”

  “Not if you injure yourself.” Her own tears welled. “Look what could have happened. Those saws can cut off an arm. What would I do then?”

  He attempted a tease. “Would you have fired me from the farm?”

  “David!” She clutched his uninjured arm with both hands. “I would never have done that!”

  “I know. I’ll do better—or try. This is a hard lesson, you know.”

  “I’m with you, and I’m sorry for what happened. I’m partially to blame, you know.”

  He shook his head. “You are not to blame for anything. You couldn’t be more blameless.”

  She forced a laugh. “Be careful what you say. I do have my faults.”

  He appeared totally unconvinced as Priscilla appeared in the kitchen doorway. She asked, “Are you staying for supper, Phoebe?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Of course! And thanks for the invitation.”

  “Who’s staying for supper?” At the sound of Leroy’s voice, Phoebe jerked her head around. The man rubbed his eyes near the bedroom door, clearly having just awoken from his Sunday afternoon nap.

  “Me, I guess.” Phoebe managed a smile. “Is that okay?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” he said. “Are you to blame for David’s accident?”

  “Daett!” David turned around on the couch. “Please stop this.”

  “Someone is to blame,” Leroy muttered. “And it sure wasn’t me.”