She forced herself to walk past the room, past her parents’ empty bedroom, and descend the stairs to the kitchen. For a moment she just stood there, wondering why she’d come to this room. Then she saw the kettle on the stove. Might as well make a cup of tea.
While the water boiled, she remembered how she’d never gotten to make supper and the cornbread her father loved. Maybe they’d get to come home tonight. Maybe they’d be hungry. She knew she was just dreaming, but thinking about making supper might keep her from thinking about where her family was right now.
She scrubbed potatoes and put them in the oven, then got a big bowl out of the cupboard, made cornbread, and slid the pan into the oven. Pork chops went into an iron skillet on top of the stove. Green beans canned at summer’s end completed the meal.
While she was waiting, she made a cup of tea and sat drinking it. Delicious smells started wafting through the room, but they didn’t make the room feel less lonely since she sat at the big kitchen table by herself.
Her mother had assured her she’d call if Sam’s condition worsened. So she supposed no news was good news. She grimaced. She’d always hated that expression. It suddenly occurred to her she needed to call Leah and tell her she couldn’t come to work the next morning. It was too late to call her at home, so she called the shop and left a message on the machine.
The food was finally done, but her parents didn’t arrive. She put everything into containers and set them into the refrigerator, hoping the family would be home to enjoy the meal tomorrow.
With a sigh, she turned off the kitchen light and climbed the stairs again. She stopped at Sam’s room and got his teddy bear and took it to her room. After she changed into her nightgown, she took it to bed with her, clutching it to her chest and wetting it with tears.
3
Rachel Ann woke to banging on the front door. She shot up straight in her bed and then realized it was morning. Groaning—she’d only fallen asleep as dawn’s light crept in the window—she got out of bed and went downstairs to answer the door.
Abram stood on the doorstep holding a shopping bag. He grinned at her. “Your sleeping buddy?”
She blinked sleepily at him. “What?”
“What’s his name?”
She glanced down as he gestured at her arm. Color flooded her face as she realized she clutched Sam’s teddy bear under her arm—and she was standing in the doorway dressed in her nightgown. She quickly ducked behind the door and frowned at Abram as he laughed.
“Alfred is going to be here in twenty minutes,” he said. “Better get a move on if you want to go see Sam.”
“Be right back!” She shut the door and raced up the stairs to get dressed. She was back in ten, dressed, and carrying her jacket, purse, and the teddy bear.
“I’m taking it to Sam,” she said when Abram glanced at it again.
“Never doubted it,” he said. He lifted the shopping bag in his hand. “I’ve got another surprise in here for him.”
Before she could ask what it was, the van pulled into the drive.
Abram’s mother stuck her head out the front door. “Tell your mamm and daed I’m praying for Sam. I’ll let everyone I see today know.”
“She’ll get word out on the Amish grapevine,” Abram said with a grin as he opened the van door and waited for Rachel Ann to climb inside.
“This was nice, but you didn’t have to go to the hospital again.”
“I want to see how the little guy is doing.”
Rachel Ann knew Sam followed Abram everywhere; he practically idolized him. Abram was the youngest in his family and never seemed to mind his little shadow.
Martha and Leroy looked haggard when Rachel Ann and Abram walked into Sam’s room. Rachel Ann’s heart ached when she saw his little head swathed in bandages and his leg engulfed in a big cast. He looked so tiny and defenseless.
“Here, put this on him,” said Abram. He reached into the paper bag he’d carried and pulled out Sam’s quilt—all washed and dried and none the worse from yesterday.
She held it to her chest for a moment—so surprised at his thoughtfulness—and then walked over to tuck it around his little body. His teddy bear went under one arm, and then she tucked the quilt over him, too. Maybe it was her imagination . . . she thought she felt the barest movement . . . but when she looked at Sam’s face his eyelashes remained as still as his little body.
Abram looked at Leroy and Martha. “My mamm sent her breakfast sandwiches and coffee. We thought you might like a break from the room.”
“I don’t want to leave him,” Martha said.
“I can stay with him,” Rachel Ann spoke up. “I already had breakfast and I’d like to sit with him.” She hadn’t eaten breakfast—food was the last thing she wanted. She just wanted to see Sam.
Her mother hesitated a moment.
“Please?”
Leroy stood and held out his hand to his fraa. “Might do us good to stretch our legs a bit, get some coffee. Rachel Ann’ll let us know if Sam wakes.”
Martha nodded. “We’ll be in the waiting room.”
Rachel Ann pulled a chair up beside Sam’s bed and sat. “C’mon, sleepyhead, wake up. I brought your bear and your storybook.”
A nurse came in to check Sam’s temperature and blood pressure. She smiled at the bear. “I see we have another patient.”
“He loves that bear.”
“Beautiful quilt,” the nurse said, admiring it as she folded up the blood pressure cuff.
She smiled. “I made it when my mother told me she was having a baby. I’m not good at sewing, but I wanted to make something for her to put in the crib.”
“Well, I think it’s beautiful. I could never do something like this.”
“You could if you took a quilting class at the shop where I work,” Rachel Ann told her. “Naomi is a great teacher. She makes it look easy, and the students have fun.” She dug in her purse, found one of the cards Leah kept on the front counter in the shop, and handed it to the nurse.
“I’ll think about it.” She smoothed the quilt over Sam’s shoulders.
“When’s Sam going to wake up?” Rachel Ann blurted out.
The nurse’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. Sometimes the brain gets such a shock it just needs time to recover. It could be today or days from now. He’s in good hands. His doctor is the best in the area.”
She looked at Rachel Ann. “And remember he’s in the best hands. He’s in God’s hands.”
Rachel Ann nodded. But God had taken little Daniel Zook home last year. What if He took Sam? She didn’t want Him to have Sam. She wanted Sam to stay here and wake up and be the little brother she loved.
Surely God wouldn’t punish her for not being a good sister and take him, would He?
The nurse paused at the door. “Talk to him. He can hear you even if he doesn’t react.”
She turned her attention back to Sam. “You heard her. She says you can hear me. So I want you to wake up, you hear? I will get you anything you want, if you wake up. You’ve scared Mamm and Daed and me long enough. Nobody’s mad at you. But we’d like it if you woke up and talked to us, allrecht?”
But although she watched his face carefully, his lashes lay still on his cheeks and the rise and fall of his little chest was the only movement he made.
She started when there was a quiet knock on the door. Her eyes widened when she saw Michael stick his head in.
“Is it okay if I come in for a few minutes?” he asked, glancing around the room.
She stood and clasped her hands in front of her. “Sure.”
“Where are your parents?”
“They’re having breakfast with Abram, my next-door neighbor.”
He pulled on a string in his hand and several brightly colored balloons followed him into the room and bobbed around his head.
“Is it safe for me to be here? I mean, are your parents mad at me?”
Rachel Ann shook her head. “They know it was an accident.”
>
He tied the balloon strings to the footboard of the bed. “I was hoping the little guy would be awake to see these.”
Her lips trembled. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
“You mean yet today.”
She shook her head. “No. Not since the accident.”
“Oh man, I’m so sorry!”
She began crying, and he stepped forward and put his arms around her. “I’m so scared!”
“It’s going to be alright,” he said, patting her back.
Dimly she heard the door open. “Rachel Ann!” her father thundered.
* * *
Abram was as shocked as Rachel Ann’s daed when he opened the door to Sam’s hospital room.
Rachel Ann stood in the arms of Michael—the Englisch man whose car had hit Sam!
She jumped back, looking so guilty Abram couldn’t help wondering if they’d been kissing. A shaft of jealousy shot through him.
“Michael was just giving me a hug,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks with her hands. “We weren’t doing anything bad.”
“There is no touching for any reason,” Leroy told Michael sternly.
“Yes, sir, I mean no, sir,” Michael said. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He extended a shaky hand to Leroy. “I’m Michael Lansing. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to keep from hitting your son. He darted out into the road so fast—”
“Abram told us,” Martha said. She glanced at the balloons that bobbed in the breeze from the air conditioner vent. “Sam loves balloons.”
Michael rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans. “I didn’t just come to bring the balloons. I wanted to tell you all the bills for Sam’s treatment will be taken care of.”
Martha’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my,” she said, and she stumbled toward a nearby chair and sat down.
“Maybe you should talk to your parents before you undertake such a responsibility,” Leroy said.
Michael stood straighter and met his gaze. “I did and we talked to my insurance company. They’ll probably cancel me after this year and who knows what the premiums are going to be someplace else. But since it was my car that hit him, it’s only fair. I’m just grateful the police saw it as an accident or things could have been worse for me.”
He shrugged and turned to look at Sam. “Just hope the little guy comes out of this okay.”
“They’re running some more tests today,” Martha spoke up. “A CAT scan, an MRI, I don’t quite understand what it all means.”
“They’re tests that can see inside the head and body. They tell the doctors a lot. My brother’s pre-med, so I’ve heard a lot about them.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, I have to get to my job. Nice meeting you folks.”
Leroy shook hands with him again and stroked his beard as he watched Michael leave the room. “Well, if it works out it will surely save our community from raising the money.”
Martha sat quietly weeping. Leroy patted her shoulder.
Rachel Ann stood looking awkward and unsure of what to say. “Do you want me to stay so you both can go home and get some rest?”
Her father shook his head. “Doc’s supposed to be coming in soon. What did Leah say when you called her?”
“I left a message on the machine at the shop.”
“Well, your mamm and I will be here, so you can go on in. It’s likely we’ll be needing the money if we have to be away from our jobs to be here with Sam for some time.”
Abram saw how she tried to hide her feelings, but he saw her shoulders slump, saw how she swallowed several times and tried to school her expression.
“I’ll go on then,” she said quietly. “Maybe after I can bring up the supper I made.”
Her father nodded and went to stand and stare at Sam. Her mother searched for something in her purse. “Here,” she said, holding out some bills. “For the driver.”
“She doesn’t need it,” Abram said. “I can drop her off. I have some errands in town. She can ride with me and save the money.”
Martha smiled at him. “Thanks, Abram.” She stood and went to join her husband at Sam’s bed.
Abram cast a quick look at Rachel Ann and saw how hurt she looked. He knew the couple was upset, but she was forced to walk out of the room without even a good-bye. Then he reminded himself it wasn’t his place to judge. Troubled, he followed her out the door.
“I have a breakfast sandwich for you,” he told her when they got outside. “Some coffee, too.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
She sounded listless, not herself.
“You won’t make it through the morning without eating.”
“Abram, you sound like a parent.”
“I’m a friend who cares about you.”
“Danki, but I’ll be allrecht.”
They sat on a bench outside the hospital, and Abram called the driver. Rachel Ann lapsed into a moody silence, and he decided to leave her alone.
She got out at Stitches in Time and turned to Abram. “Danki for everything, Abram. I appreciate it.”
“Have a gut day!” he called after her.
“You, too,” she said without enthusiasm. She disappeared into the shop.
“How’s her kid brother doing?” the driver asked him. “She looked so upset I didn’t want to ask her.”
“He has a concussion and a broken leg. He still hasn’t woken up.”
“The wife and I will say a prayer for him tonight.”
“Thank you.”
The driver checked traffic and pulled out onto the road. “Okay, hardware store up next.”
* * *
Leah glanced up from the cash register as Rachel Ann walked into the shop.
“Rachel Ann! I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Does this mean Sam is doing much better?”
She shook her head. “My parents said I might as well be at work.” She kept walking toward the back of the shop to put her things up. Her purse went into a cupboard and her jacket went on a peg. When she turned around, she found Leah standing in the doorway watching her and looking concerned.
“Where’s your lunch?”
“I didn’t pack one.”
“What about breakfast?”
“I didn’t pack one.” Confused, she stared at Leah.
Leah walked into the room, pulled out a chair, and gestured for Rachel Ann to sit.
So she sat.
“What’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong. Sam got hit by a car. He’s in the hospital.”
“But that’s not all, is it?”
Rachel Ann shook her head as the tears began to fall. “They blame me. Oh, they won’t say anything, but they blame me. They wouldn’t let me stay at the hospital last night and today they said I should go on to work because they wanted to talk to the doctor and if Sam was going to be in a long time and they had to stay with him then we might need the money so—” her breath hitched, and she couldn’t go on.
Leah handed her a box of tissues, then filled the teakettle and set it on the stove. “They sound like they’re so worried they don’t know what they’re saying.”
“They hate me.”
“Nee, kind, they don’t hate you. They’re just in a state of shock. It’ll get better.” The kettle whistled. “In the meantime, have a cup of tea and a pecan roll before you start working. You look like a ghost and I don’t want you frightening the customers. And Rachel Ann, I can give you ten more hours a week since we’re getting busier with the holidays.”
Rachel Ann tried to smile. She did feel a little better after she ate and drank a cup of tea.
It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings in the shop, too. She’d been too miserable when she walked in to notice Mary Katherine working steadily at her loom at the other side of the shop. Naomi sat with some quilting students, and when she looked up and saw her, she waved. Anna wasn’t in the shop. It must be her day to work at home. Emma stood at the fabric cutting table sorting throug
h a box of fabric scraps for her rag baskets.
Leah asked her to take care of walk-ins while she worked on some orders, so Rachel Ann found herself busy helping customers find fabric and thread and yarn and such. Conversations about the right fabric, how much yardage to get, and whether cotton or nylon thread was better for a particular project kept her focused and her mind off worrying about Sam.
A steady stream of customers poured through the store. Whether they were Amish or Englisch, the shoppers were buying—and buying a lot, saying they were making their gifts for Christmas.
The list of projects was endless: a quilt for a grandson’s college dorm room, a sweater for a granddaughter, booties, and a Christmas tablecloth . . . and that was just one customer’s list.
“So what are you making?” Mary Ruth leaned on the fabric cutting table and asked. Then she straightened and put a hand over her mouth and looked embarrassed. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess you don’t have much time with Sam in the hospital.” She paused. “I guess it was lucky you were close by when the car hit him.”
“What do you mean?” Rachel Ann paused in the cutting of the fabric.
“Well, if you hadn’t been near he might have laid there hurt for a long time before he got help.”
And if I’d been paying attention he might never have been hurt at all, Rachel Ann couldn’t help thinking. Tears threatened and her hand shook on the scissors but she blinked back the tears and finished her job. She wrote the amount of fabric and price on a slip of paper and pinned it to the edge before handing it to Mary Ruth.
“Can I help you with anything else?” she asked with forced brightness.
“I think this is it for me today. It’ll get me started with my main presents. See you at the wedding Thursday.”
“Wedding?” She stared at Mary Ruth for a long moment. “Oh, ya, of course.”
Mary Ruth took her purchases to the front counter for Leah to ring them up. Rachel Ann stood there staring around her at all the people, all the gaiety, all the color, and never felt so hollow inside—so empty and alone. Life seemed to be going on without her.
One True Path Page 3
