Blessings (2 page)

After a half hour of trial and error, experimenting with fabric, rope, and pulleys, they finally managed to provide a means of support for Regen. They stood back, hands on hips, looking at the animal to see if he’d be okay. He whickered softly, but he stopped tapping the sore leg against the ground.

Trina smiled. “I think that’s done the trick.” She pointed. “He’s not trying to stamp, so it must not be bothering him as much.”

“Good.” Andrew wiped his brow, whistling through his teeth. “That was a chore!”

“But worth it,” Livvy said, stepping forward to caress the horse’s jaw. “I can tell it’s helped him.” The woman and horse rubbed noses.

Trina, watching Livvy with Regen, felt a rush of satisfaction. Her hour with Regen had given her more pleasure than her years of waitress work. If only she could spend all of her days helping animals.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the yard captured their attention. Andrew headed for the barn’s wide door. “That’s probably Dr. Groening. I’ll bring him in.”

Trina linked her fingers together and waited anxiously as Dr. Groening examined Regen’s leg and ran his hand under the cloth loop. Finally, he turned and put his hand on Trina’s shoulder. “You’ve done everything exactly right here. Bringing the swelling down and getting the pressure off the leg is just what I would have prescribed.”

Trina nearly wilted with relief. “Oh, thank you! I’d never want to do anything harmful to an animal.”

His fingers squeezed gently before slipping away. “I know.” The older man’s thick gray brows lowered. “You have an innate ability, young lady.”

“Well. . .” Trina crunched her lips into a grimace. “I got the idea from a book I bought on horse care.” It had been one of the pricier of her purchases, but the book, with its veterinary guide, was a wealth of information.

“So you’re still studying,” the doctor said, lowering his tone to a near whisper.

Trina nodded. The string ties of her cap tickled her chin, reminding her of the futility of her study. Never, never, never would Mama and Dad allow her to get the schooling she’d need to be a veterinarian. Not as long as she wore her Mennonite cap.

T
WO

T
he sympathy in Dr. Groening’s eyes communicated his understanding of Trina’s dilemma. Three years ago, she had confided her interest in animal care to the kindly veterinarian from Lehigh and asked how she could become an animal doctor. His brief explanation— a college degree—had crushed her.

Attending college was out of the question. She knew that. But she had finally decided she could study on her own, learn for her own interest, and maybe do some good in her community. What she’d just done for Regen proved to her that all her reading hadn’t been a waste of time.

Offering the doctor a weak smile, she nodded. “I buy as many books as I can find at the store in Newton.”

“And study on your own. . .” Dr. Groening shook his head, his eyes sad.

“It’s better than nothing.” Trina forced a light tone, but resentment pressed at her breast. Why couldn’t she go to college and become a veterinarian? It wasn’t fair!

“Well,” Dr. Groening said, clapping his palms together and turning to Andrew and Livvy, “the work you started here won’t end soon. You’ll have to keep applying cold compresses to the leg—probably through the night—and then each time the swelling comes up again.” He stepped forward and patted the horse’s neck. “This big boy won’t be doing any work for a while, either. You’ll need to keep him still for at least two weeks, then only gentle exercise—walking, no trotting or running—for another two to three months.”

“It’s that bad?” Livvy clasped Andrew’s hand. Her wide eyes brimmed with tears.

“It could be worse,” the doctor said. “But the treatment you started here helped a lot. Be grateful.” He gave the horse’s broad neck one more pat and turned to Trina. “Will you be staying?”

Trina nodded. Her parents would have to understand.

“Then he’s in good hands,” Dr. Groening said to Andrew and Livvy. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to check on him. Call if something changes. In the meantime, Trina, I’ll leave you some reusable cold packs you can use in place of the corn.” He grinned. “You’ll clear out the freezer in no time using corn, but it was a perfect choice in a pinch.”

Trina followed the doctor to his pickup.

He opened a metal box in the truck’s bed and pulled out four rectangular, plastic-covered cold packs. “Alternate these between the freezer and Regen’s leg. They’re good for three hours before they need to be traded out.”

“I will. And thanks again, Dr. Groening.”

“You’re welcome, Trina.” He opened his truck door then paused and sent her a speculative look. “You still work in your mother’s café?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you ever think about doing something else?”

All the time.
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

He smiled, seeming to understand her silence. “Well, if you ever decide on a change, I could use an assistant at the clinic. My helper heads off to college this fall, and he’s decided to take the summer off to play. I need to replace him. You’d learn a lot.”

Trina’s heart pounded. She licked her lips. “Thanks, Dr. Groening. I’ll—I’ll give it some thought.”

“Good.” He hopped into his pickup and closed the door. With a wave of his hand out the open window, he pulled away.

Trina watched the truck head down the driveway, her heart thudding with desire to run, jump into the bed of that truck, and learn everything she could from the aging doctor.

Graham Ortmann slammed the car’s back door closed and leaned against his friend’s blue sedan. Laughter floated across the calm, late-evening breeze as the other young people from Sommerfeld stepped out of their vehicles to say good-bye to the group before heading to their respective homes.

“You want me to drop you off at your place, Graham?” Walt asked.

Graham shook his head, gesturing with his thumb toward the café, where lights still glowed behind the windows even though it was past closing time. “Looks to me like Mrs. Muller and Trina are still cleaning up. I’ll head over there and see if Mrs. Muller will let me walk Trina home.”

Walt snorted. “Good luck. The Mullers keep Trina tied to her mother’s apron strings.”

“I know.” Most of the Old Order Mennonite parents were protective, but Troy and Deborah Muller carried it to the extreme.

“Might be easier to walk Susan or Darcy home instead,” Walt suggested, a grin creasing his face. “They’d be willing, I’m sure.”

Graham glanced across the car’s hood. The two young women Walt referenced stood on the sidewalk in front of Koeppler’s Feed and Seed, their capped heads close together. Even with the evening shadows limiting his sight, he knew they were watching him. He sighed and turned back to Walt.

“It might be easier to court another girl, but I don’t want another girl. Trina’s the only one for me.” He’d spent more than a year getting up his nerve to ask Trina’s parents for permission to spend time with her. Their six months of visits, walks, singings at local homes, and skating parties convinced him that he and Trina were a perfect match. As soon as she turned twenty—only six more months—they would publish their relationship and plan a wedding. Or maybe they could be published now. Nineteen wasn’t too young. His heart picked up its tempo at the thought.

“Well, good luck to you.” Walt gave Graham’s shoulder a hearty smack. He chuckled softly. “I think you’ll need it.”

Graham pushed off from the car and headed down the sidewalk toward the café. He frowned as he thought of Walt’s words. He didn’t need luck. Luck was for worldly people—people who lacked faith. Graham had prayed about seeking a wife, and he knew Trina was the right choice.

Easily the cutest girl in the fellowship with her spattering of freckles and sweetly upturned nose, she exuded an innocence and spark for life that made a person happy just to be near her. He’d never met anyone with a more positive attitude. His feet sped up of their own volition as eagerness to see her, talk to her, steal a few minutes of her time urged him forward.

The café door was locked, but when he tapped on the glass, Trina’s younger brother, Tony, trotted from the kitchen and unlocked it. “Hi, Graham. How was the skating?”

“Fun.” Graham limited his reply. Tony, at fifteen, was too young for the skating parties, but in another couple of years, he’d be able to join the group. No sense in getting the boy stirred up at what he was missing. He followed Tony to the kitchen. “I came to see if I could walk Trina home.”

Mrs. Muller turned from the stove, a dripping cloth in her hand. “Trina isn’t here, Graham. Andrew stopped by a couple of hours ago and took her to the farm. Livvy’s horse was injured somehow. Livvy called again about an hour ago and said Trina would be staying all night.”

Even though disappointment struck, Graham’s heart swelled with pride. Of course, Trina would go if an animal needed her. Trina’s compassionate concern for all creatures was just another reason he loved her so much. “I hope the horse will be all right.”

Mrs. Muller turned back to the stove. “I don’t know. Livvy said it was a bad injury, but they were doing what they could.”

Graham scratched his chin, wondering if he should drive out and check on Trina. Her cousin would be there to provide chaperonage, so it wouldn’t be indecent. He lifted his gaze and found Mrs. Muller watching him with narrowed eyes. He felt a blush building, certain she read his thoughts.

He backed toward the kitchen door. “Well, I’ll let you finish up, then. Tell Trina I stopped by, please.”

“I will.” Mrs. Muller put the scrub rag to work.

Graham waved to Tony then headed out of the café. Outside, he stood for a moment, looking at the glittering stars and debating with himself. He’d had very little time with Trina this week, and he missed her. At the other end of the block, two cars remained in front of Koeppler’s Feed and Seed—Walt was still there. Walt could drive Graham home, where he could get his own car and head out to Andrew and Livvy’s place. Just to say hi and make sure the horse was doing okay.

Decision made, he broke into a jog. “Walt! Hey—I need a ride!”

The slam of a car door jolted Trina from dozing. She blinked, looking around the dusky barn. The lantern Andrew had hung from a nail on the stall post glowed softly, but outside the window, stars twinkled in a velvety sky. It was much too late for visitors. Maybe she’d imagined the car door—maybe she’d been dreaming.

Regen bounced his head, snorting softly. Livvy sat up from her nest in the hay and nudged Andrew. “Somebody’s here.” He yawned and pushed to his feet.

While Andrew went to check, Trina tossed aside the light blanket she’d used to cover herself. She crawled forward a few feet and pressed the compress on Regen’s leg. The horse blew, but he didn’t try to move his foot. “Good boy, Regen,” she praised, gently pressing the compress. Certain it was still cold enough and well secured, she straightened to her feet and nuzzled the horse.

“Trina?” Andrew stood at the edge of the stall. Someone stood behind him—a man, judging by his attire—but he stood in Andrew’s shadow, making it impossible to identify him.

“Dr. Groening?” she asked.

“No, it’s me, Trina.”

Trina’s heart did a little somersault. She stumbled forward a few steps, squinting until she made out Graham’s crooked smile. “How did you know I was out here?” She longed to reach for him, take his hands, but instead she tangled her hands in the folds of her borrowed apron.

“I stopped by the café. Your mom said you were here.”

“Why did you come out?”

“I wanted to make sure the horse was okay.”

Andrew took a sideways step away from the couple and held his hand to Livvy. “Let’s go in and see if there’s any more coffee in the pot.”

Livvy flicked a quick glance at Trina and Graham. An understanding smile curved her lips, and she nodded.

Trina watched her cousin and his wife stride from the barn, gratitude filling her. Rarely did she and Graham have an uninterrupted minute alone. Andrew and Livvy had just given them a gift. She skipped forward, closing the distance between her and Graham. She was close enough for him to touch her if he wanted to.

His hands remained appropriately in his pants pockets, but his smile caressed her. “So is the horse going to be okay?” The question was completely impersonal, yet his tone managed to convey deep feeling.

“I hope so.” Her words came out on a breathy sigh. “It’ll be a long time before he’s able to work, but we’re praying the damage will heal.”

Graham’s swallow sounded loud in the peaceful barn. “But you need to stay all night?”

“Yes. The cold compresses must be changed every three hours. So Andrew and I are taking turns.”

Graham nodded. For long moments neither spoke. Then Graham cleared his throat. “I missed you at the skating tonight.”

Trina’s heart twisted. “I know. I’m sorry. Mama insisted I work. But it’s probably best since Regen needed me.” She moved to the horse and stroked his neck, her gaze on Graham. “Dr. Groening said I did everything right for him.” Although she knew pride was a sin, she couldn’t stop the swell of satisfaction that filled her when she remembered the doctor’s praise for her ministrations to the animal. She blurted, “He said I could work for him, if I wanted to.”