An Amish Harvest

by Patricia Davids

  Glancing around, Rebecca noticed a large pail of apples on the table. “Would you like me to take these apples down to the store for you, too?”

  “Nee, I’ve already taken down the good ones I plan to sell today. These are for applesauce. I have to start canning soon. The fruit will be falling on the ground before long.”

  Rebecca nodded in sympathy. The early days of autumn were the busiest time of the year for Amish housewives. Gathering in the harvest meant a steady stream of vegetables and fruit to preserve on top of the daily chores, cooking for harvest crews and working beside the men in the fields when needed. Spare minutes were few and far between.

  After washing and arranging the potatoes on racks to dry, Rebecca went back inside. Samuel still wasn’t up. Today was the day she needed to change his dressing, so perhaps he was reluctant to make an appearance. “I’m going to check on Samuel.”

  “Okay.” Anna didn’t look up from her task of coring apples.

  Samuel was sitting at the desk by the window. He tensed when she knocked. “Guder mariye, Samuel. How are you this morning?”

  “I’ve been dreading your appearance.”

  “You certainly know how to flatter a woman.” She saw the tiniest hint of a smile before it fled.

  “You know what I meant.”

  “This time it won’t be so painful.”

  “And how can you know that?” His derisive tone signaled his disbelief.

  “You said your hands have been itching. That means healing.”

  He extended them palms up on the table. “We might as well get it over with.”

  “Did you take your pain medication?”

  “I did.”

  “I’m amazed.”

  “I learned my lesson at the doctor’s office.”

  Rebecca left to collect her supplies and returned five minutes later with a box of bandages, a large basin of warm water, liquid soap and the latex gloves the doctor had given her. She set them all on the desk along with a towel and pulled on the gloves. Using a pair of sewing scissors, she began cutting away the old dressings on his right hand. When she was down to the last layer, she guided his hand to the basin. “Soak it for a few minutes. Have I hurt you yet?”

  “Not enough to mention.”

  “I’m thankful for that.”

  “So am I.”

  After a few minutes, she unfolded a towel and spread it out. “Lift your hand out of the water. How is it?”

  “Stinging.”

  Gently she removed the last layer of bandages to reveal his reddened skin and peeling blisters. Some areas of his palm were bright red while others were a ruddy brown indicating old skin that had yet to slough. She began lightly wiping the entire palm, trying not to scrub.

  “How does it look?”

  “Not bad.”

  “You don’t lie very well.”

  “It looks painful, but I don’t think there is as much swelling.” She applied some soap and began massaging his hand in slow circles trying to loosen the dead skin.

  She had never noticed how long and supple his fingers were. They weren’t soft or weak. Even injured, she could feel the underlying strength in his wrist and arm. He had hands made to craft delicate designs into hard wood and smooth the rough edges until the oak or cherry felt like satin to the touch. He had skilled craftsman’s hands and she liked the feel of them. The simple task of washing his injuries took on a whole new meaning. This was the way a wife might touch her husband.

  He inhaled sharply and her gaze flew to his face. “What’s wrong?”

  * * *

  He’d never had a woman hold his hand and caress it with such tenderness. The sensation, aside from the mild pain, was a disturbing one. Her hands were small and delicate, and yet they were strong, too. The fragrance of her lavender soap filled his senses, and he knew the scent would forever remind him of this moment.

  “I’m sorry if I’m hurting you,” she said softly. There was a breathless quality to her voice that sent his pulse soaring.

  If only he knew for certain that his vision would return. Then he might have the right to speak about the affection growing in his heart. Until then, it was best to remain silent and pretend her touch was like any other.

  “You’re doing okay, but can we speed it up?” He didn’t know how much longer he could keep a lid on his emotions.

  “Of course.” She rinsed and dried his hand and applied the antibiotic cream the doctor had prescribed. Samuel pulled away from her and propped his elbow on the table while she repeated the procedure on his other hand.

  In his mind, he worked out the dimensions of a new shop and the placement of the equipment he hoped to purchase one day down to the smallest detail. It kept him from thinking about how much he wished he could see her face. Was she being the dutiful nurse or did she feel this connection, too, this pull toward each other?

  Finally, she was done. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “It all depends on your definition of bad.”

  “Are you ready to have me do your face, or would you rather take a break?”

  Her hands on his face? No, he wasn’t going to endure that. “I’ll let Timothy do it this evening.”

  “Oh. Are you sure? I don’t mind.” She sounded disappointed.

  “Wrap my hands and then go help my mother. I’m sure she has something for you to do.”

  “Samuel, I was hired to take care of you.”

  “And you have. I’m getting up and around without much trouble. I feel stronger now that I’m eating solid food. You have helped immensely. Once these dressings come off my eyes, I won’t need you at all.”

  “That is the day I pray for,” she said softly.

  “As do I.”

  She wrapped his hands and taped the ends of the bandages. “I haven’t used as much gauze because the drainage is much less. Can you move your fingers?”

  He tried and was able to press his first two fingers against his thumbs without undue pain. “That’s better. I’ll be able to hold my own spoon and fork now. Timothy will be overjoyed.”

  “You can join the family for supper tonight.”

  “I’d rather have one evening of practice up here before I risk pouring soup down my chin in front of everyone.”

  She giggled. “I’ll be sure and send up extra towels with your tray.”

  Her laughter was a balm to his spirit. If only he could judge her interest in him. Was there a shadow of hope that she held him in affection? He had heard that the eyes were windows into the soul. He wanted to gaze into her eyes and see if she smiled from within when she looked at him. “Danki, Rebecca. You were right. It was much less painful.”

  “I could read the paper to you before I go and help your mother.”

  He didn’t want her to go. Any excuse to keep her close was one he liked. The sound of her voice would soothe him and make the long hours of the morning bearable. “That would be nice.”

  “Wunderbarr. Let me put away these supplies and I’ll be right back with the paper.”

  Her footsteps hurried away and he had a chance to draw a full breath. It didn’t help. The scent of lavender still lingered in the air. He stood and took a turn around the room. What was he doing? Why was he thinking romantic thoughts about Rebecca Miller? She was a widow who still mourned her husband.

  Although he’d known her for years, Samuel couldn’t recall her face clearly. What had triggered this sudden interest in her? Nothing she had said or done. Pouring water on a sick man’s feet wasn’t romantic in the least.

  She was bossy and opinionated. She wasn’t the kind of woman he imagined would interest him. The sound of her hurrying up the stairs reached him and he sat down.

  She breezed into the room. “I found the paper.”

 
He heard her chair scrape back and he knew she had taken a seat across from him. What would she look like with the morning sunlight pouring across her fair skin? “Samuel, you’re flushed all of the sudden. Do you feel all right?”

  Before he could form a reply, her hand cupped his cheek and neck below his ear where he wasn’t burned or bandaged. Her fingers were damp and cool. He froze, not wanting her to see how much she affected him. “I feel fine.”

  “You aren’t feverish, but your voice sounds raspy. Maybe the paper can wait until you’ve had a rest. I’ll come back later.” She withdrew her hand.

  He leaned away and folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t go. I want to hear what’s going on. Read.”

  “Very well.”

  In her low musical voice, the first thing he had liked about her, she read the front page news about traffic improvements the county was hoping to make. After that, she went on to weather reports and the hog and corn market news. It was amazing anyone could make the hog market reports sound interesting and soothing, but she did. By the end of half an hour, she had covered the entire paper from the local ball games and highlights to the specials at the grocery store in Berlin.

  The paper rustled as she closed it. “That’s all for now.”

  The appetizing smell of simmering apples had overpowered the scent of lavender in the room. “Mamm must be making applesauce. Maybe I’ll sneak a few apple slices when she isn’t looking.”

  “Would you like me to distract her for you?”

  “I think I can manage on my own.”

  “I’ll slip you one or two if you can’t.”

  “It’s a deal.” He chuckled as they made their way downstairs.

  “I was wondering if you two were ever coming down. I was about to come up and check on you.” His mother’s words held a hint of reproach.

  “Rebecca read the paper to me. She said you were busy.” He found the table and sat down.

  “That was kind of you, Rebecca. I can’t get away from this applesauce for another hour or two. Would you mind opening the store for me? If anyone comes in just write down what they buy. There is a cash box under the counter. It has enough money in it to make change.”

  “I’m sure I can manage.”

  “Do you want me to keep you company?” he offered.

  “Nee, keep your mother company. I’ll be fine by myself. I’ll take those potatoes with me,” Rebecca said quickly. Too, quickly.

  He had the feeling he had missed something. When she was gone, his mother didn’t beat around the bush. “Samuel, you are a grown fellow, and I should not have to have this conversation with you.”

  He sat up straighter. “What conversation?”

  “Rebecca is a single woman. You risk her reputation by treating her with such ease in your company. You are much improved. It is unseemly now for her to spend time in your room.”

  “We have done nothing wrong. She changed my dressings and read the paper. What harm is there in that?”

  “None, but such familiarity can lead to temptations.”

  Hadn’t he already discovered that for himself? “I would not harm Rebecca’s reputation for anything. She has been kindness itself to me.”

  “I like her, too. Very much. If you should decide to ask her out I would approve.”

  He squirmed in his seat. “I didn’t say I wanted to go out with her.”

  “Silly boy, you don’t have to say those things. A mother has eyes and ears. Not much goes on in this house that I don’t know about. Remember that.”

  * * *

  Later that week, Rebecca once again took Samuel to the doctor’s office. He tolerated the long trip much better the second time and remembered to take his pain medication before they arrived. At the office, she remained in the waiting room while Samuel was taken back to an exam room.

  “How are you doing, Samuel?” the doctor asked when he was finished with his initial examination.

  “Better every day.” Physically it was true, but the worry about his family’s future never left him.

  “Any problems? Any signs of infection?”

  Samuel shook his head. “Rebecca Miller and my brother Timothy are taking good care of me.”

  “I thought you must be doing well. Rebecca would have let me know if there was a problem. Let me get these dressings off and have a look for myself.”

  Samuel waited as the doctor unwrapped his hands. He made only a few noncommittal noises. “They feel better. There is less pain.”

  “I’m impressed and pleased with your progress. There seems to be very little scarring considering the extent of the burns. You can leave the wraps off soon. There are a few places that still look raw, but letting them dry out may be best. Now, let’s take a look at your face. I’m going to dim the lights. Let me know if they’re still too bright.”

  Samuel tensed as he waited for the doctor to remove the bandages from his eyes. If his hands were healing, his eyes were healing, too. They had to be.

  “This looks good. Your eyebrows and your eyelashes will grow back. Your eyelids are still raw looking, but that’s to be expected. All right, open your eyes slowly. Stop if it hurts.”

  Samuel let his eyes flutter open. His heart began to hammer in his chest. “I can’t see anything.”

  “Can you distinguish between light and dark?”

  Samuel’s throat tightened. “It’s all dark. I don’t see any light at all. Turn on the lights. Face me toward the window.” His breath came in short, harsh gasps.

  “I’m going to put some drops in your eyes and some light gauze pads over them. You won’t need the heavy bandages anymore.”

  “Why can’t I see? My burns were healing. Why can’t I see?”

  “There may be several reasons. In the event your vision hadn’t improved today, I made an appointment for you to see the ophthalmologist I’ve been consulting with. He’s a friend of mine. There won’t be any cost for his examination and he can see you now. Would you like Rebecca to go with us?”

  Samuel shook his head. This was something he needed to face alone. “Will it take long?”

  “His office is fifteen minutes from here, and he has cleared his schedule to see you. If you don’t feel up to doing this now, we can make it another time.”

  “I need to know what’s wrong. Have someone tell Rebecca that I’ll be back shortly.”

  The doctor wrapped a new bandage around Samuel’s eyes. “Hopefully, Dr. Westbrook can give us some answers.”

  The doctor led Samuel outside and was helping him into his car when Samuel heard Rebecca’s voice. “Wait up. I’m coming, too.”

  Samuel paused. “It’s not necessary, Rebecca.”

  She opened the door to the backseat. “Your father is paying me to take care of you. He would not like it if I let you go alone. And we both know that your mother would have a fit. Please drive on, Doctor.”

  Although he would not have admitted it, Samuel was glad she was there.

  At the ophthalmology clinic, Samuel endured a lengthy exam. The doctor put drops in his eyes. It made them burn, and Samuel had to resist the urge to rub them. His face was positioned in a holder. He was told to look right and look left and to stare straight ahead. Rebecca stood close beside him through it all. He was never more grateful for her stubborn streak.

  While the doctors finished conferring, Samuel waited anxiously for their verdict. Finally, Dr. Westbrook sat down at Samuel’s side. “I’m going to send you home with some special dark glasses. You don’t have to keep the bandages on anymore.”

  “Will I be blind forever?” Samuel choked out the question.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

  “What can you tell us?” Rebecca asked.

  “In a flash burn such as the one Samuel endured, the blink reflex
is so quick that the eyes are almost always protected. His eyelids sustained burns, but the corneas of his eyes did not. There is no scarring or clouding. The muscles of the pupils respond appropriately to light and dark. The pressures in the eyes are normal and the retinas are both intact.”

  Samuel rubbed his itching palms on his pant legs. “What are you saying?”

  Chapter Nine

  “They’re wrong! I don’t wish to be blind. Why would they think such a thing?”

  Rebecca glanced at Samuel’s angry face as she drove him home from the doctor’s office. It was the first time he’d spoken since they had been told his blindness wasn’t caused by his injury. “They are men of science. They believe what they have told you. It’s possible.”

  “Nee, I’m not naerfich.”

  “They didn’t say you were crazy.” She didn’t want to believe it, either. Samuel was a strong, determined man, but he had suffered a great blow. Perhaps this was God’s way of teaching him humility. She reached the Bowman driveway and turned in.

  “I don’t want my family to know this,” he said quickly.

  “Samuel, it can’t be hidden. The doctor has asked for a meeting with your family so that he can explain this to them.”

  “He couldn’t explain it to me.”

  “You weren’t willing to listen.” She hated seeing him so tormented.

  “You think I’m crazy, too.”

  “Far from it. I think you are upset and angry. When you are calm, you can hear what Dr. Marksman was trying to tell you. This was not your choice. This was your mind’s reaction to a horrible trauma.” She pulled the buggy to a stop beside the barn. She got out and went round to help him down.

  He brushed past her and took a few steps away until he came up against the corral fence. He raised his fists to the sky. “Why do you allow this, God? I have prayed every day and every night that You will restore my sight. Why won’t You let me see?”

  Rebecca laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think you are asking the wrong question, Samuel.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Frustrated to the point of screaming, Samuel held on to his last ounce of sanity. She didn’t understand. How could she?