The Amish Wonders Collection

by Ruth Reid

  “Is everything okay?”

  “So far. She stopped by the hospital to check on Nathan.”

  “She did?” Mattie sucked in a deep breath.

  Erma nodded. “She didn’t go in to see him, but she spoke with Bo. Apparently he’s been staying day and nacht at the hospital. I’m told he’s very concerned about the boy.”

  Mattie exhaled. Others in her settlement would find it strange that Mattie found comfort in that information. She was grateful Bo was close by, but she wasn’t about to share that tidbit of information.

  “Are you sure he isn’t . . . still investigating?”

  “Jah, I’m sure. Bo knows that until I’m past the contagious stage, I’m unable to go to the hospital.” She skipped the part where Bo had promised to sneak her in if Nathan’s condition became worse.

  “How much do you know about him?”

  “Other than that he works for Child Protective Services and his mother is a retired judge, nett much.”

  Erma, forehead puckered in puzzlement. “His mother is a judge? Did he tell you that?”

  “I met her.”

  “I see.” Erma’s worry lines deepened.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “Nay, danki. I can’t stay.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ll stop over tomorrow and see how you’re feeling.”

  “Danki again for the soup.” As Mattie opened the screen door for Erma, she noticed Alvin’s buggy pulling into the yard and shot him a quick wave. He waved back, but when he got out of his buggy, he went directly to the barn. Mattie searched the containers from the womenfolk and found some peanut butter cookies. He liked pie better, but these would have to do. An hour later, a knock sounded at the door. When she opened it, Alvin had moved to the bottom porch step.

  “I see the Englischer’s car is gone.”

  Mattie wasn’t sure she liked Alvin’s undertone. “The kaffi is hot if you’d like a cup.”

  “I better not. Shingles is contagious. The lamb is doing better. I suppose you were right about not putting him down.”

  “Danki for looking after Snowball.” Between resting and visitors she hadn’t gone out to check on him today.

  “I fed and watered the livestock. You won’t have to worry about them tonight.”

  “Can I send you home with a plate of cookies, Alvin?”

  He shook his head. “I’m eating fewer sweets these days.”

  She couldn’t help but wonder if that was his way of making her feel guilty. After all, he’d eaten sweets daily for the past several weeks. “Well, I’m sure it would do us all some gut to cut back some.”

  Bo held a private prayer vigil for Nathan during the night. He didn’t have the heart to leave the boy’s room and the nurses didn’t seem to mind him sleeping in the chair. That is, when he could sleep. Noises in the room, the hallway, the nurses’ desk—they went on 24/7, which made sense why most hospitalized patients said they had to go home to get any rest.

  His mother wasn’t pleased with the decision, especially since he was missing another one of her fund-raising dinner parties for her campaign. It was just as well. After his run-in with Davis, he had no desire to sit at the same table with her all evening or listen to representatives from the fracking company talk about how their drilling would drive more local business. But at the same time, he didn’t want to disappoint the woman whom he’d come to call his mother. Agnes Nettleton deserved his respect. She’d taken him in after the accident and raised him as her own. She’d done her best to introduce him to her world of influence and means. Until the dreams started reoccurring, he hadn’t truly seen the trappings of the world. Perhaps all along he hadn’t wanted to.

  He recalled the phone conversation he’d had earlier with his mother, the inflection of desperation in her voice. “Bo, why are you ruining your career?”

  “I’m not. The boy has a rare form of chicken pox. The mother is innocent.”

  “Chicken pox?”

  “I plan to talk with the doctor the next time I see him about providing an official diagnosis to the court. How fast can you get Judge Steinway to drop the charges?”

  Silence.

  Bo glanced at his phone, thinking the call had dropped.

  She cleared her throat. “I can see what I can do. Of course, it’ll have to go through Child Services. Bo, I wish you wouldn’t . . .”

  “Wouldn’t what? Help an innocent mother? I can’t let this go until . . . until it’s resolved. Besides, once Mattie is cleared, there won’t be much of a case against me at the CSP.”

  “Yes, I see your point.” Another brief silence passed before she shifted the conversation. “You have to promise you’ll attend the gala next Friday. It’s the most important event of my campaign and I need your support.”

  Was this a trade-off? Attend a dinner party in exchange for a woman’s abuse charges getting dropped sooner? He wasn’t about to challenge her integrity. “Yes, I’ll be there,” he said, sending up a silent prayer that Nathan’s healing would come before then. If the boy was transferred to Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, as the doctor had arranged, he couldn’t very well be in two places at once.

  Several hours had passed since his conversation with his mother and he was still pondering her motives. Bo leaned his head back on the hospital chair and closed his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, cemented closed. His breathing slowed, his muscles went limp, and he was lost in a fog.

  BOAZ, MY CHILD. HAVE YOU not found what it is you’re looking for? When one sheep has gone astray, is it not true that the shepherd leaves his flock to find it?”

  The fog cleared and the leprous mother and child came into view, but as he drew closer to them, the spots were no longer visible. Fog shrouded him. Once again, he was searching for the way.

  The overhead light jerked him awake. He blinked several times at the stocky fiftysomething woman rolling a mop bucket into the room.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said.

  “What?” In one fluid motion, he vaulted up from the chair. “No! No! This isn’t happening,” he said, his mind reeling in denial. This was a dream. He looked out the window. The sky was pale blue—daytime. Nathan was gone—his bed empty.

  “Excuse me?” The woman from housekeeping slanted her head slightly.

  “Where’s the boy?” Bo demanded.

  “I was just told to mop the room.” She pointed the end of her mop handle toward the nurses’ desk. “You best ask at the desk.”

  Bo fled the room. He caught one nurse before she entered an adjacent room. “Where’s Nathan Diener? The patient in room 2205.”

  “I’m not sure. Cindy has that room.”

  “Which one is she?” He scanned the other nurses in the hall, at the desk, but none of them looked familiar.

  “This is shift change.” The nurse craned her neck. “She must still be in report. Give her another ten or fifteen minutes and I’m sure you’ll find her at the desk.”

  He combed his fingers through his hair. Ten minutes would feel like an eternity. How could he have slept so hard that he missed someone taking Nathan out of the room? Surely he should have heard some commotion. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. He wasn’t in the frame of mind to talk with anyone and didn’t recognize the caller ID. The buzzing stopped, then a moment later, sounded again. “Lambright,” he barked.

  A sharp gasp filled his ear.

  “Is someone there?” he asked in a calmer voice.

  “This is Cora Johnson. I’m a friend of Mattie Diener and she asked that I call you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Is something wrong with Mattie?” Bo’s blood pressure jacked up to stroke rate with the amount of adrenaline feeding his veins. First Nathan was gone—now Mattie. This wasn’t how he wanted to start the day.

  “No, I think everything is all right. I didn’t talk with her directly; one of her neighbors stopped at my place and requested I call you.”

  Bo wante
d to tell the woman to get to the point, but he held his tongue.

  “She’s taken the prescribed antiviral medicine and her shingles have cleared up. She wants to know if she would be allowed to come back to the hospital.”

  His thoughts scattered. How long had it been, five days? If something was wrong with Nathan, or if he was transferred to Henry Ford Hospital, it would be easier to tell her in person.

  “I would be willing to pick her up and drive her into town,” Cora said.

  “You don’t mind?”

  “No, not at all. I have a few errands to run anyway.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He hadn’t so much as hit the End button on his cell when the phone buzzed again. His work number popped up on the caller ID. Not now, Norton. He checked his watch. Seven thirty. The office didn’t open for another thirty minutes. Bo let the call go into voice mail. He had to find out about Nathan first. He approached the only woman at the desk, her tag read Pam, Unit Clerk. “Could you tell me where Nathan Diener is? He isn’t in his room.”

  “What’s his room number?”

  “2205.”

  Pam picked up a clipboard and scrolled her finger down a long list. Holding her finger on the spot, she glanced up from the paper. “He’s in imaging.”

  “Does it say why?” Bo leaned forward, hoping to get a glimpse of the form.

  “Are you a family member?”

  He shook his head.

  She turned the clipboard over and folded her hands. “You’ll have to talk with his physician.”

  “Is Doctor Oshay available?”

  “He usually makes rounds first thing in the morning, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

  “Thanks.” Bo strolled to the end of the hall and gazed out a window overlooking the parking lot. The morning fog had cleared and he found himself wishing he was lying on the deck of his boat, drifting with the waves. If he closed his eyes he could smell the dank air, hear the fish jumping.

  His phone rang again. This time it was his mother. “Hello.”

  “Oh, I thought I might get your voice mail. Norton Farley called the house. Your interview with Internal Affairs is at eleven o’clock.”

  He groaned. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

  “Bo, I wouldn’t be late if I were you.”

  Bo wished now that he hadn’t charged his phone in the car on his drive from Mattie’s house to the hospital. It would’ve have been easier if he wasn’t aware and missed the meeting. He spotted Mattie getting off the elevator. “Hey, I have to go.”

  “Bo?”

  “Yes.” He waved at Mattie walking down the hall.

  “Will I see you after your meeting? Perhaps we could have lunch.”

  “Sure. But I’ll talk with you later. I have to go.” He disconnected the call and met Mattie near the waiting room. Her cobalt eyes held a shimmer similar to the deepest part of Lake Superior on a sunny day. “Well, look at you. A picture of health and—” Beauty.

  Her face turned pink under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m feeling better.”

  “So I see. That’s great news.”

  “I can donate part of mei liver nau.”

  He wasn’t about to remind her it had only been five days. The doctor would insist on running more tests.

  “How’s Nathan?”

  “Let’s go in the waiting room and talk.”

  “Why are you trying to keep me from his room?” She touched her neck. “The rash is gone. I’m nett contagious.”

  “He’s not there. He’s having a CT scan.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “What’s happened?”

  “I don’t know. I was asleep when they came in and took him downstairs for more tests. I overheard the nurses say something about remeasuring the size of his liver and another biopsy.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s already been a little over an hour. Hopefully it won’t be much longer.” He motioned to the waiting room. “Let’s sit in here.”

  She hesitated a moment, then conceded.

  Bo sat where he had a direct view of the hallway. Leaving a chair between them, she sat on his right, her hand on her neck.

  “Have you had a fever today?”

  “Nay.” She stood and paced to the end of the room. “I don’t like this room.”

  He’d forgotten this was where she was when she got arrested. “You want to go down to the cafeteria?”

  “Nay.” She stared at a painting of children flying kites, then walked away. As time passed, Mattie grew more restless. “Why is it taking so long? It didn’t take this long the last time.” She wrung her hands.

  Bo checked his watch. Nathan had been gone a long time. Patience. Lord, she needs peace. We both do.

  “Are you sure we didn’t miss him?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been watching the corridor.” She had too. They hadn’t rolled Nathan past the room.

  “Do you think there’s another hallway?”

  “No.” He patted the chair next to him. “Have a seat. Let’s pray.”

  She sat beside him and bowed her head.

  “Dear Lord, please forgive us for worrying. Thank You for answering our prayers and healing Mattie. We know You are in control of this situation and that Nathan is in Your hands. Please forgive us for not totally resting in Your peace.” A clatter coming from the hall echoed as he finished the prayer. He opened his eyes as workers rolled an oversized crib past the doorway.

  Bo and Mattie looked at each other at the same time and leapt off the chairs.

  Mattie charged into Nathan’s room. His skin was the color of freshly fallen snow. Maybe too white, but that was better than yellow. “Danki, Father.” She peered at Bo as he approached the bedside, his brows crinkled. “His skin isn’t yellow,” she said.

  “So I see.” He studied Nathan.

  “That’s gut news, right?”

  “I hope so.”

  His tone lacked the usual optimism. What wasn’t he telling her? “We prayed for a miracle. This is it, right?”

  The nurse entered the room. “Mrs. Diener, Doctor Oshay would like to have a word with you.”

  “Okay.” Mattie turned to Bo. “Will you kumm?”

  “Absolutely.” He checked his watch.

  She frowned. “Do you have time? I don’t want to keep you.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” he teased.

  “Nay.” She meant it too. He’d become her rock the last few days.

  “Gut.” He grinned.

  Inside the conference room, Doctor Oshay began the conversation. “Your son’s condition has been somewhat of a medical mystery.”

  Mattie swallowed hard. “How so?”

  “A biopsy confirmed chicken pox, and his blood work suggested acute liver failure.” He tossed his hands in the air and shrugged. “But last night, instead of his liver enzymes increasing, as expected with liver failure, they decreased. His bilirubin, which had been steadily rising from less than one to five point two and the reason his skin and the whites of his eyes turned yellow, are now less than one and well within the acceptable range. His ALT, AST, alkaline phosphatase, and GGT have also dropped significantly, and the tests we use to monitor potential clotting and bleeding issues—the INR, PT, and platelets—are back within normal limits as well. I must admit his labs are remarkable.”

  “So he’s healed,” Mattie said.

  “His condition has improved. It’s not safe to say he’s out of the woods yet. I’ll know more after I get the results of the second biopsy and can compare it with the abnormalities found in the previous one.” He pushed his chair away from the table. “I wish I had more concrete news to share, but hopefully we’ll know more soon. I’ll send a copy of my findings to Doctor Wellington, and once I’m satisfied from a GI standpoint, she will advise you on further treatment.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Mattie left the conference room with a spring in her step. God had answered her prayers. Nathan was healed. “I feel like a ton of weight has been lifted and I
can breathe for the first time in a . . .” She glanced at Bo. He was preoccupied looking at his watch. “I haven’t meant to occupy all your time. I know you’re a busy man, so if there’s something you need to—”

  He grimaced. “I have a meeting I need to attend. If I could postpone it I would, but—”

  “You don’t need to explain.” Then it dawned on her why his expression was glum. “I can’t see Nathan without your supervision, can I?”

  He wouldn’t be away from the hospital too long. The meeting with Internal Affairs would satisfy formality and be over in the matter of minutes once the review board heard about Nathan’s condition, or so Bo reasoned as he drove to the other side of the county. He fully expected the interview with the internal investigators to go smoothly. Unless news got back to headquarters that he’d given Mattie permission to spend time alone with Nathan. He had no power to authorize anything until his name was cleared.

  Bo’s assumption that the meeting would be quick proved inaccurate after spending an hour and a half answering questions hurled at him by a panel of five people. Asked to explain every minuscule detail of the Diener case and several other cases they supposedly randomly selected to review, he wasn’t sure the investigation would be finished by the end of the day. Josh’s file alone triggered a slew of questions. But the investigators kept going back to Mattie’s case, often asking the same question worded a different way.

  The only woman on the panel spoke first after everyone returned from a ten-minute break. “You entered the premises without a search warrant and after the mother refused to cooperate with an inspection. Can you explain your actions?”

  “She fainted on the porch and was rendered unconscious after hitting her head. The children were alone in the house, and I didn’t think it was prudent to walk away from an injured person. Not when it meant I would knowingly be leaving the children unattended. So I carried her into the house.”

  “Is it true that your immediate supervisor, Director Norton Farley, requested your identification when he notified you that you were the subject of an internal investigation?”