by Marta Perry
“Grab it,” Benjamin ordered, shoving the branch farther across the ice. “Louise, grab the branch. You can do it. Now.”
The girl’s terrified face seemed to calm for an instant. She reached, ice breaking, the effort nearly submerging her, but then she had the branch and was holding on tight.
“Gut, gut. Now the other hand.” Sarah was half on the ice herself now, clinging tight to Benjamin. She would not lose him.
For a moment she thought the girl couldn’t do it. Then Louise swung her arm, grabbing the branch and holding on with both hands.
“Back now, Benjamin.” Sarah tugged on his ankles. “Back, drawing her with you.”
Benjamin slid back. The ice breaking around her body, Louise moved closer. They were going to make it—
The ice began to crack around Benjamin. Sarah clasped his ankles, pulling with all her strength. She had to get them out, she couldn’t feel her hands anymore—
Another hand reached out, closing over hers, and then Aaron was pushing her away, taking her place, pulling his brother toward safety.
“Not so fast—” Benjamin began, but Aaron already had him, pulling him and the girl toward the bank.
With a final crack, the ice gave way entirely, but it was all right. Aaron had them both.
Denke, Father. Sarah forced herself up, ripping her coat off to wrap it around Louise. Denke.
The girl caught up in his arms, Aaron set off for the house. Get her warm and dry—that was the important thing now.
His relief that all three of them were safe turned quickly to anger. How could Benjamin have been so foolish, so heedless, as to put Louise in danger like that? What had he been thinking?
The words burned in his throat. He choked them back. He would not say anything in front of Louise. He certainly wouldn’t do so with Sarah there.
He glanced over his shoulder to find that Sarah had her arm around Benjamin’s waist as they stumbled along behind him. It was hard to tell which of them was holding the other up.
“Sarah, you need not come with us. Go back to your house and get warm and dry.”
Go home. He didn’t need Sarah around while he dealt with this situation.
“Unless there is another woman at your house, you need me.” The chill in her voice said that she knew he’d like to be rid of her.
But she was right. He did need her.
“I hadn’t thought about that. Denke.”
She didn’t spare breath for an answer. Sarah would be chilled to the bone as well, but she kept trudging on. Across the yard, up the porch steps, and into the welcoming warmth of the house.
Sarah hurried to his side. “Take her to the warmest bedroom. I must get those wet clothes off her.”
“This way.” He climbed the stairs two at a time, ignoring the sodden weight that dragged at his arms. “Molly’s room is ready for her, and it has the best heat in the house.”
He carried the girl through the door and set her carefully on the bed, stepping back so that Sarah could get at her.
The poor girl shivered, teeth chattering together, her face dead white. His concern deepened. “Should I send for the paramedics?” he asked.
“Let’s see how she is once we get her warmed up.” Sarah spared him a reassuring glance as she pulled off first her coat and then Louise’s own sodden one. “More blankets, if you have them. If you have any hot water bottles, fill them. But you’d better leave now.”
“Ja.” Louise seemed to find her voice.
She was embarrassed by the situation. If Sarah hadn’t been here . . . well, he’d have done what he had to, but he didn’t want to think about that.
He removed an armful of blankets and quilts from the blanket chest at the foot of the bed and piled them next to Louise on the bed. “I’ll look for a hot water bottle. Call me if you need anything else.”
Sarah nodded, her focus on the girl. Obviously the best thing he could do was leave them alone. Sarah knew what to do.
Benjamin waited at the foot of the stairs, one hand on the railing as if unable to decide whether he should go up. His wide, frightened gaze met Aaron’s. “Is she . . . How is she?”
“Sarah is taking care of her.” He led the boy away from the stairs. “We’d best leave it to her.”
“Ja. Sarah will know what’s best.” Benjamin blew out a long breath, as if he’d forgotten to breathe for a while. “Thank the gut Lord Sarah saw what was happening.” A shiver went through him. “I don’t know if I could have gotten Louise out alone.”
Aaron bit back the words that wanted to explode from his mouth. “Go and change into something dry. You can’t do anything for Louise. You’ve done enough—”
He cut that off. Hadn’t he just told himself not to speak, not now, while he still shook inside at the thought of what might have happened?
But Benjamin probably knew where that thought had been going. He stiffened, fists clenched tight against his legs, staring at Aaron.
“What do you mean? Are you saying Louise’s accident was my fault?”
Aaron’s control slipped. “Wasn’t it? You took the girl out there. You were responsible. What were you thinking to let her go on that pond? You should have known the ice wasn’t thick enough.”
Benjamin was as pale as the girl upstairs. “I knew. I told her so. What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to be responsible. To stop her.”
“How could I do that? She ran out onto the ice before I knew she was going to do it.”
“It was your responsi—”
“My responsibility. Ja, I know. You’re always telling me, aren’t you?” Benjamin flared up like dry tinder. “Whatever happens, it’s always my fault. You never believe me.”
“That’s not true.” It wasn’t, was it? For just a second Aaron doubted.
“You never believe me,” Benjamin repeated. “You always blame me. And I know why. You’ve never forgiven me for living when Mammi died.”
Aaron could only stare at his brother as the words penetrated. He couldn’t speak—it seemed he couldn’t even think.
Benjamin was silent, too, as if shocked by his own words.
The sound of a step broke the stillness. Sarah walked into the living room. She’d heard them. She must have.
But when she spoke, her voice was calm. “Louise is doing much better now. She’s come to no harm, I think. If I might use the kitchen, I’ll make her a hot drink. That will help. Did you find a hot water bottle?”
“It is in the bottom kitchen cabinet, I think. I’ll look for it.” Aaron had a battle to keep his voice even after what Benjamin had just said.
She led the way into the kitchen, and the two of them could do nothing but follow. Aaron should resent the way she was taking over, but he couldn’t. It was a relief to have someone else decide. He began rummaging in the lower cabinets for the hot water bottle.
Sarah put an armload of wet clothes on the counter. “These should be hung in a warm place to dry, but Louise will need some other clothes to wear when she feels like getting up.”
“Ja.” He tried to think, but his mind seemed as frozen as the pond.
Sarah filled a kettle and set it on the stove. “I could go and get her something of mine, but her parents will have to be told anyway. Maybe they should just bring her clothes when they come to take her home.”
“I will go and tell them.” Benjamin spoke before Aaron could. “It is my responsibility.”
“Gut,” Sarah said. “But go and put dry clothes on first.”
To Aaron’s surprise, Benjamin didn’t dispute that. He turned and went quickly upstairs.
“He didn’t argue with you. That’s how he always was with Molly, too.” He started hanging the wet clothes on the rack next to the stove. “Molly was always better with Benjamin than I was.” Aaron’s thoughts edged around the impossible, hurtful thing his brother had said.
“Do you have tea bags or hot chocolate mix?” Sarah’s tone didn’t give anything away.
/> “Ja, both.” He opened the cabinet and got out tea bags, sugar, and hot chocolate mix so that she could choose.
“I happened to be looking out the kitchen window when I saw Benjamin and Louise walking across the field.” She busied herself measuring the chocolate mix into a mug, not looking at him. “They were talking and laughing—flirting a bit, the way kids do.”
He picked up the hot water bottle and found a towel to wrap around it. “They’ve always been sweet on each other, I think.”
Sarah nodded. “When they reached the pond, Louise seemed to be teasing him. Then all in a moment she ran out onto the ice. I could tell that he was trying to get her to come back.” She shook her head slightly. “Girls that age can be heedless. I expect she wanted to show him that she didn’t have to do what he said.”
The kettle started to steam. She poured hot water into the bottle, then into the cocoa mix, stirring as carefully as if everything depended on getting the chocolate just right.
She picked up the mug and the hot water bottle. “I’ll take this up now. It will help to warm her.”
Benjamin passed her as he came back in, shrugging into an old coat of Nathan’s. Too big, but at least it was dry.
“I’ll go get Louise’s parents now.” He didn’t look at Aaron.
“Benjamin.” Aaron didn’t know what to say, but he had to say something. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you as I did. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
Benjamin stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded, and the very air in the room seemed to ease. “Denke.” He went out quickly.
Aaron stared after him, running his hand through his hair. He should have said more. They had to talk about Benjamin’s accusation. If he really believed that Aaron blamed him for Mammi’s dying . . .
He shook his head. He couldn’t start on that now. But soon they had to talk.
He put the kettle on the stove again and got down another mug. Sarah was chilled, too. She should have something hot.
By the time Sarah came back into the kitchen, he had a mug of chocolate waiting for her. “This is for you.” He gestured to a seat at the table and pushed the mug over to her. “I wasn’t thinking. You probably need some dry things, too. If you want to go home . . .”
She shook her head and picked up the mug, pressing her hands against the warm sides. “It is best if you have a woman here when Louise’s parents arrive, I think.”
“Ja, I’m sure you’re right about that. They will be upset enough.” He stared down at the table for a moment, knowing he had to say something about what had happened. “Denke, Sarah. For everything. If you hadn’t seen what was happening . . .” A shudder went through him. “It was your cry I heard.”
“A gut thing, too. I couldn’t have held on much longer.”
He looked at her then. “I think you would have held on as long as you had to. You are a strong woman in every way.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “Ach, I’m just glad you reached us when you did. Benjamin wouldn’t let go, even when the ice was cracking around him.”
“I have told him how sorry I am for my hasty words. I shouldn’t have blamed him.”
“We often say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment.” She paused. “I’m sure Benjamin can understand that.”
“I hope so. It’s just . . . sometimes Benjamin reminds me too much of our father. I worry that he might turn out to be a man like him.”
It was a relief to say the words out loud. And incredible, that he was saying them to Sarah.
She touched his hand, just for an instant, and then drew away. “I think you are worrying needlessly, Aaron. You are the one who has been a father to Benjamin. If he turns out to be like anyone, he will be like you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sarah stayed in the background while Aunt Emma gave Dora Schmidt her checkup on Tuesday. Sarah smiled, nodded, and listened to the lively chatter that went on between the two women who had gone through one of life’s most intimate experiences together seven times already. Naturally Dora wanted Emma to deliver this baby, too.
With five women now in their final month and coming every week, this was shaping up to be a busy day. It was not, however, busy in the addition. Aaron and his brothers had put in a full day yesterday but once again had failed to come on a patient day.
After what had happened on Sunday, Sarah felt that her relationship with Aaron had passed a hurdle and moved into friendship. She’d thought perhaps that would reduce his reluctance to come today, but she’d been wrong.
Certainly she understood him better now that she knew a bit more about what drove him. Her heart had been wrung by his fears for his little brother.
Groundless fears, she hoped. She’d meant what she told Aaron—that if Benjamin would be like anyone, he would be like Aaron. Benjamin could become just such a solid, steady, dependable person.
Maybe those thoughts said more about her opinion of Aaron than her opinion of Benjamin. If so, she’d be better off not to be thinking about him at all.
Aunt Emma reached for the tape measure, and Sarah handed it to her.
“Ach, you don’t need to measure me to let me know that I’m as big as a house,” Dora said. “I think it’s time this little one joined the rest of us.”
“There’s a full moon the end of the week,” Aunt Emma said, stretching the tape measure. “You know how that brings on labor. He might be in your arms soon enough, ain’t so, Sarah?”
“Could be. Some might say that is nothing but an old wives’ tale, but we midwives know better.”
“Maybe because we are old wives,” Aunt Emma quipped, making Dora laugh.
Thank goodness Aunt Emma had regained her usual good spirits. That episode on Sunday, when she’d withdrawn while they’d been talking about the telephone—that had been so out of character. At the time, the crisis with Benjamin and Louise had wiped the incident from Sarah’s mind, but later the worry had come back.
She’d promised Jonas that she’d try to get Aunt Emma to see a doctor if she thought there was any need. Maybe that time had come. But how she’d bring that up, she didn’t know.
Dora Schmidt’s visit was nearly over. Sarah ran her gaze down the records in Dora’s folder, noting that her blood pressure had sometimes been rather high. She glanced at Aunt Emma, chatting with Dora about the likelihood that the full moon would bring on her labor as she helped her up. Wasn’t she going to check Dora’s blood pressure?
It seemed not. For a moment Sarah hesitated, unwilling to interfere. But the patient came first. They both knew that. She picked up the blood pressure cuff.
“Let’s just check your pressure before you leave,” she said.
Aunt Emma’s face tightened. Then she nodded. “Ja. Just to be on the safe side.” She took the cuff from Sarah’s hands and wrapped it around Dora’s arm herself.
Then she surveyed Dora with a frown. “You’ve been eating salty food again, ain’t so?”
Dora’s ruddy cheeks deepened in color. “I’ve had a craving for fried potatoes lately, it seems. You know how much I love them.”
“I know, but I know also they’re not so gut for you, especially with the baby this near term. Now you promise me you’ll stay away from the salt shaker, ja?”
Dora nodded. “Ja. I will. But sometimes I get heartburn, and I think something salty makes me feel better.”
“You try having a nice cup of ginger root tea for the heartburn,” Emma said. “Now you do as we tell you.”
Sarah let out a slow breath. Aunt Emma had said we. Maybe that meant she wasn’t taking offense at Sarah’s interference.
But once the door had closed behind Dora, she turned on Sarah, her face tight.
“I have been catching babies since before you were born, Sarah. Do not correct me in front of a patient.”
“Not correcting,” Sarah said quickly. “I’m sure Dora didn’t think that. Just reminding you.”
Emma didn’t look mollified. “I don’t want D
ora going around telling folks I’m getting too old for my job. If I didn’t take Dora’s blood pressure, there’d be no harm done. I would tell her anyway to watch her diet. I know better than you what her problems are.”
“I’m sure you do.” Sarah was cringing inside at pressing this issue with Aunt Emma, but it had to be done. “But we both know that checking her blood pressure was the right thing to do.” She reached out to her aunt, silent pleading in the gesture. “You are the one who taught me that the patient always comes first. Remember?”
Her aunt’s expression didn’t soften. “That’s as may be, but—”
A tapping on the door interrupted her. Maybe that was for the best.
Sarah went to answer. It was Benjamin, his cheeks ruddy from the cold, snowflakes sticking to his blond hair. He stepped inside at her gesture, grinning.
“Sarah, there are snow flurries in the air.” It seemed Benjamin wasn’t so far from being a small boy, excited at the idea of snow.
“Ja, I see. But I think you didn’t come over just to tell me that.”
“Ach, no, I am here with a message from Aaron.” His grin widened, if that was possible. “Our Molly is arriving this afternoon. Aaron says we might be a little late in the morning, because she’s sure to want to make a big breakfast for us, but we will be here.”
“That’s gut news. You must be excited to have her here at last.”
He nodded. “You must come to see her sometime soon. She’ll want to get to know you again.”
“And I feel the same. How is Louise? None the worse for her dunking?”
He sobered a little. “She is fine. Her daad gave her such a scolding—she won’t soon forget what he said.”
“She scared him, just as she scared us.” She could imagine how Louise’s father felt. At least he didn’t seem to blame Benjamin.
“Ja.” He ducked his head, looking both embarrassed and determined. “Sarah, I chust wanted to say . . .” The words seemed to peter out.
“You don’t need to say anything.” Sarah touched his arm lightly. “I am thankful I was there to help.”
