by Marta Perry
“Thank you.” He sighed heavily. Amber could sense his frustration.
Gloria returned to her office, leaving them alone once more. Phillip’s face mirrored the same worry running through Amber. If Martha’s spinal cord was severed, she’d never walk again.
He said, “Thirty minutes. Guess that leaves us enough time to get a cup of coffee.”
“It’s not gourmet, but the coffee in the cafeteria here is drinkable. Let me tell Gloria where we’ll be and then I’d like to wash up first.”
He smiled and looked her over. “Good idea. You’ve got grass in your hair.”
“What?” she squeaked as her hands flew up and brushed at her scalp.
“Come here.” He pulled her over and plucked the offending blades from where they’d lodged in her braid.
She kept her gaze riveted to the floor.
I’m not going to blush and babble like a teenage girl with a crush on the top jock. I’m a professional and I can act like one.
Phillip took a step back. “There, I think that’s all of it.”
“Thank you.” Without looking at him, she made her escape to the ladies’ room, where she splashed water on her heated face.
Staring into the mirror for a long time, she said, “I can’t hide in here forever. I’m going to be working with the man. I’ve got to get a handle on my emotions.” Standing up straight, she added, “Right? Can do!”
Bucked up by her personal pep talk, Amber exited the room.
* * *
Phillip also took the time to wash up and sternly remind himself that he and Amber shared a professional relationship. He couldn’t allow it to become anything else.
Unfortunately, it was easy to forget that when he looked into her compelling eyes. Determined to stick to his professional standards of behavior, he left the washroom.
Amber was waiting for him but avoided looking him in the eyes. Together, they walked out of the E.R. and took the elevator to the lower level of the hospital.
Stepping out, they walked without speaking down a short hallway to a wide set of double doors. Amber pushed one open to reveal a small, cozy room where a dozen round tables were covered with red-checkered tablecloths. Several Amish men sat at one of the tables near the back of the room. They glanced up, then resumed their quiet conversation.
Phillip said, “This doesn’t resemble any hospital cafeteria I’ve eaten in and I’ve eaten in plenty.”
“It is homey, isn’t it?”
The smell of fresh-baked bread and fried chicken filled the air. A young Amish woman wearing a dark maroon dress under a white apron with a white organdy cap on her head stood behind the low counter.
Amber approached her. “Hello, Barbara.”
“Hello, Amber. How’s Martha Nissley doing?”
“She’s still in surgery. Can we get a couple cups of coffee?”
“Sure. Have a seat anywhere and I’ll bring some out.”
Phillip realized he was hungry. The half sandwich he’d shared with Amber hadn’t been enough to fill the void in his midsection. He pointed to a chef’s salad under glass in the serving area. “Let me have one of those and give Miss Bradley anything she’d like.”
“I’ll take one of your wonderful cinnamon rolls, Barbara.”
“Icing or no icing?”
“Are you kidding? The icing’s the best part.”
Phillip eyed her petite figure in surprise. “It’s refreshing to meet a woman who isn’t afraid of a few calories. Shoofly pie and now a cinnamon roll?”
Amber giggled. “Oh, Barbara doesn’t put any calories in her rolls, do you?”
Smiling shyly, the Amish waitress shook her head. “Not a one.”
While she went to get their order, Phillip led the way to a table near the back corner. As he sat down, the elder of the two Amish men approached him. Phillip recognized him as Martha’s husband.
“I thank you both for your kindness to my wife today. Gott was gut to send you in her hour of need.”
Phillip nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m glad we were still in the office when your son arrived. He must have run like the wind.”
“He wanted to help his mama. He felt bad about the accident but it wasn’t his fault. Also, I want to tell you we are praying for your grandfather. He has done much for the Plain People hereabouts. We praise Gott for bringing him to us.”
A lump rose in Phillip’s throat, making it hard to speak. He had been harsh in his judgment of these people and he had been wrong. “Thank you.”
Barbara arrived with their food. Mr. Nissley nodded to them and returned to his own table. After Barbara set the plates down, Amber asked her, “How is your Grandmother Zook doing? Is she taking her heart medication like she should?”
“Mammi is gut. She has more energy every day.”
After the waitress left, Phillip watched Amber dig into her steaming roll. “Do you know everyone around here?”
“Not everyone, but many of the Amish. I delivered Barbara’s two youngest sisters.”
“It must be odd.” He cut a hard-boiled egg in half and forked it into his mouth. “What?”
“Knowing everybody. Having them know you.”
“Why do you think that’s odd?”
He shrugged. “It just is. Can I try of bite of your roll? It looks good.”
“Sure.” She pushed her plate toward him. When he’d cut himself a generous piece, she said, “I take it you’ve never lived in a small town?”
“I’ve lived in three or four. Just not for long.”
“You moved around a lot?”
“Yes, you could say that.” He couldn’t count on both hands the number of schools he’d attended before his mother settled in Hawaii and he started college.
After taking a sip of coffee, Amber glanced at the large round clock on the wall behind him. “Gloria said thirty minutes. That was ten minutes ago. We should hear something soon.”
He closed his eyes as he savored his sample of roll. “There are some very good cooks around here. Is it difficult working among the Amish?”
“It can be challenging. Many don’t readily accept an English midwife.”
Puzzled, he glanced at her. “English?”
“It’s what they call anyone who isn’t Amish.”
“I used to think my grandfather’s Amish stories were exaggerations.”
She grinned at that. “Harold is a talented storyteller. I don’t doubt he has embellished some things.”
“The Amish really don’t allow their children to go past the eighth grade in school?”
“That’s true.”
“It’s hard to believe anyone in this day and age is opposed to higher education.”
“They aren’t opposed to it. They just don’t want it for their children. They believe in on-the-job training for skills that will keep their family and community together. They aren’t all farmers, you know. Many are successful small-business owners. Their work ethic and craftsmanship skills are second to none. Employers love to hire the Amish. They work for less and work hard.”
“You sound like you approve of this.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Don’t you believe in freedom of religion?”
“Of course I do.”
“Do you believe a person has the right to choose his own lifestyle?”
“Yes.” He didn’t like feeling he was in the wrong some how.
“The Amish lifestyle is their religion. They do not separate the two.”
Her intenseness reminded him of his mother’s Pomeranian standing guard over his food dish. Phillip wasn’t looking to get bitten. He’d had enough trouble for one day. “I defer to someone who knows them better than I ever will.”
After they finished eating, they returned to the E.R. waiting area and were soon joined by Dr. Kline. Shaking hands with the big, burly man in blue scrubs, Phillip immediately had the feeling that Martha was being well taken care of.
“Good news. The spine isn’t severed. A bone fragmen
t is compressing it. That’s why she can’t move her legs. I’ve already placed a call for an airlift to Akron.”
Dr. Kline continued with a description of Martha’s injuries. Phillip conferred with him over some of her interim care and then left the hospital knowing she was getting the best possible treatment.
As he walked to his SUV with Amber at his side, he said, “My grandfather told me the Amish don’t believe in health insurance. How are Martha and her family going to pay for her care?”
“It’s true that they don’t believe in insurance of any kind. If a man gets insurance, that means he doesn’t have faith in God’s protection. Whatever happens is God’s will. On the flip side of that, they don’t sue for bad outcomes. Such a thing is also Gottes Wille.
“As far as the Nissleys are concerned, the Church community will take up a collection for them. A notice will be sent to the Amish newspaper and donations will come from all over. Their bills will be paid.”
Phillip had to admire people who cared so well for their own. While he thought they were some of the most backward people on the planet for refusing modernization, he had to admit that their sense of community was impressive.
The drive back to Hope Springs was made in silence. They were both too tired to make small talk. The only time Amber spoke was when she gave him directions to her home. It was nearly dark when he pulled up in front of her house.
She hesitated before getting out. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m glad you came to Hope Springs. We needed you.”
“It’s not the type of medicine I want to practice, but I’ll admit it isn’t boring.”
Turning to face him, she asked, “What type of medicine do you want to practice?”
He sensed her unwillingness to leave, and it made him feel good. “I want to practice cutting-edge medicine. I want the newest and best equipment and procedures available for my patients.”
“We don’t have that here.”
“No, but you’ve got mighty big horses.” That coaxed a tiny smile from her. She looked beautiful in the fading light.
She acted as if she wanted to say something else. Instead, she abruptly got out. She gave a little wave and said, “Good night, Dr. White. See you on Monday.”
He watched her walk inside the white, narrow, two-story Victorian and felt a sharp sense of regret. He’d missed his chance to escape her dangerous undertow. He was well and truly in for a nasty dunking. Amber Bradley was as beautiful as the sea and every bit as dangerous to his peace of mind. Shifting his SUV into reverse, he backed out of her drive, determined not to think about her the rest of the night.
He hadn’t gone half a block before the memory of her last little smile slipped into his mind and stayed there.
Chapter Seven
Beside Amber’s front door, Fluffy sat waiting to get in. She picked up the overweight white cat. “How did you get out?”
A yellow tabby darted past her feet and raced down the steps. Amber recognized Ginger, her neighbor’s cat. Apparently, she had broken up a feline tryst.
Inside her house, Amber put the cat down and flipped on the kitchen light. Crossing the room, she dumped her purse on the table. Fluffy began rubbing against Amber’s legs. She picked up the big cat again and cuddled him close, taking comfort from his happy, rumbling purr.
“Did you see the guy in the car? This is nuts, Fluffy. I don’t understand why I’m so attracted to that man. He’s standing in the way of my life’s work. One minute I want to strangle him, the next minute I’m wondering what kissing him would be like. What is wrong with me?”
Putting the cat down, Amber puttered around her cheery yellow kitchen. She had only one object in mind, to get so tired that she couldn’t think about Dr. Phillip White anymore. On the one hand, she was furious with him for stopping her midwife practice. On the other hand, she was honest enough to admit she was deeply drawn to him.
Why, she had no idea. Sure, he was a good physician, but she’d met plenty of those. He wasn’t the best-looking man she’d ever met. Close maybe, but looks weren’t everything. Phillip had more going for him. Even if he didn’t understand the Amish, he seemed willing to learn. Could he learn to love this place as she did?
She banged her hands on the countertop. “Stop obsessing about him!”
Her shout startled Fluffy and sent the long-haired white cat dashing out of the room.
“Great. Now you’ll be stuck behind the sofa, and I’ll spend the night listening to you yowl. One more mark against the oh-so-handsome Dr. Surfer Boy,” she shouted after the cat.
Fluffy’s ample girth made it impossible for him to turn around and get out of his favorite hiding place. He would simply yowl until someone moved the heavy sofa away from the wall or pulled aside the even heavier bookcase that blocked one end of his tunnel.
Ignoring her cat, Amber began vigorously scrubbing her kitchen sink. Unfortunately, the exercise only took a couple of minutes. Next, she washed the kitchen floor. Another ten minutes gone. By now, Fluffy had started mewing loudly. “All right, I’m coming.”
After freeing her pet, Amber glanced at the clock. It was time to call Harold. Settling herself in her favorite chair, she dialed the long-distance number.
Each day she called and got an update from Harold to share with his friends. The entire county was praying for his recovery. He was improving slowly but not as quickly as he wanted.
As she listened to the phone ring, she wondered what she could tell Harold that wouldn’t upset him. Should she mention that things in Hope Springs weren’t the same without him?
It was true, yet if the accident hadn’t occurred, Amber never would have met Phillip.
There was no way she was going to tell Harold she might be falling for his grandson. Even a hint of that would have him planting a whole garden of celery. She had stopped counting the number of times he’d told her she needed to find a husband and raise some kids of her own.
Like it was as simple as picking out a ripe melon at a roadside produce stand.
Amber wasn’t opposed to finding a man who could win her heart and soul, but she didn’t want one who lived in Hawaii. She wanted someone who loved this community the way she did.
When Harold answered at last, she knew what she would do. She’d fill Harold in on the things happening in Hope Springs. That was the truth. She could only hope that he wouldn’t dig deeper.
* * *
“Keep it about the work,” Phillip muttered as he entered his grandfather’s house and closed the heavy oak door behind him. Sure, Amber was cute, intelligent, quick thinking and dedicated. What was so unusual about that?
“Okay, she’s the kind of woman any man would want to know better, but she’s completely off-limits.”
Talking to himself about it sure wasn’t a good sign. With the pressures of school and setting up his practice, the only relationships he’d had in the past few years were uncomplicated. Short-term relationships where both parties wanted nothing deeper than an occasional movie date, a dinner partner or someone to go surfing with. Amber was anything but uncomplicated.
He’d ruled out taking a wife a long, long time ago. Too many times as a kid he’d seen his mother weeping uncontrollably when her latest lover left her brokenhearted. He’d seen it often enough to know he’d never risk doing that to any woman. If his father had lived, would it have been different? He would never know.
At least his mother was happy now, or as happy as she could be. Her current husband, Michael Watson, was a good and decent man. After spending years with one toad after another, she’d finally found her prince. However, the emotional toll of her former life stayed with her. She suffered from a deep-seated fear of abandonment.
His mother met Michael when Phillip was a junior in high school. Michael provided the things she desperately longed for—safety, security, a nice home and a man who loved her. Although Phillip wasn’t sure she truly loved Michael in return, she worked hard to be a good wife.
Phillip owed his ste
pfather a great deal. Without Michael’s help, med school would have remained a pipe dream. Phillip never would have come to know God without his stepfather’s gentle encouragement. That had been Michael’s greatest gift, but one Phillip had let slide recently. He would remedy that while he was in Hope Springs.
He glanced at the clock above his grandfather’s mantel. With the five-hour time difference, his stepfather should be getting home from work in another twenty minutes. That left Phillip enough time to check on his grandfather first.
After dialing the number to his grandfather’s room in the rehab hospital in Honolulu, Phillip settled himself on the sofa and waited for Harold to pick up. When he finally did, he was anything but cordial.
“It’s about time you called. How are things? I want to know what’s going on.”
“Things are fine. Like they were yesterday when I spoke to you. I came to Hope Springs so you would stop worrying. If you’re not doing that, I might as well go home and get a little surfing in.”
“And then what would become of my people?”
It was a good question. One Phillip hesitated to suggest an answer for, but he did anyway. “You could advertise for a partner or for someone to take over the practice.”
“Ha! Don’t you dare try and sell my practice out from under me. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”
“I’m not trying to sell your clinic out from under you. It’s just that I’ve seen how much work is involved here. You’re not a spring chicken anymore.”
“There’s a little crowing left in this old rooster. I’ll be back there before you know it.”
“I hope so. I really do. How’s the physical therapy going?”
“They just like to torture people here. I might have fractured my skull but my mind still works.”
“I can tell. What did you do today? Besides grump at the therapists.” Harold chuckled. Phillip was happy to hear that sound again.
“I’ve been putting square pegs in round holes. I picked up numerous small objects and transferred them to different types of containers. Joy, joy. I went up three steps with my crutches but that was all I could manage. I can’t seem to make my legs work right.”
“Harold, that’s a lot more than you could do a week ago. What did your doctor have to say?”
