Brush of Angel's Wings (31 page)

“Here, I made us some vegetable and noodle soup.” Rachel placed two steaming bowls on the table and some sliced bread on a plate. “I'm worried about her.”

“Me too.” Timothy pulled the chair away from the table and sat.

Rachel sat across from him, bowed her head, and said a short prayer asking God to watch over the
boppli
and to bless the food.

Timothy blinked a few times, then peered in the bowl while stirring the soup with his spoon. “Do you think she's been sick all day?”

“She said no, but I was helping Jordan deliver a calf. So I don't really know.”

He forced a smile. “How did Jordan do?”

“For
nett
wanting to be a farmer, he did okay. He did what needed to be done.”

“I'm
nett
sure he wants to be Amish either.” Timothy buttered his bread before he took a bite.

She wasn't sure if he meant his words as a caution to guard her heart, or merely as a statement of fact. But the words jolted everything within her. She stared at the chunks of carrots in her bowl. She hadn't realized how deep her desire was for Jordan to accept their faith.

“Don't fall in love with him,” Timothy said as he reached for the salt.

She focused on her soup, acknowledging his warning with a reluctant nod. She spooned some soup into her mouth. Timothy's words wouldn't have stung if she didn't already love Jordan. She swallowed and looked at Timothy. “He's confused about the faith. I've asked him to speak with the bishop, but—”

“
Ach
, Rachel. You're smitten already.” He gave her a knowing look and dipped his spoon into the soup. “He doesn't plan to stay.”

“I know,” she said in a whisper. But every part of her wanted to believe he would. Rachel's heart grew heavy. She sipped the soup, thankful that Timothy had become quiet. When they finished eating, Rachel tidied up the kitchen, then reheated the simple broth for Sadie.

She paused at the sitting room where Timothy sat with an open Bible on his lap. The sight warmed her, reminding her how important it was to have a husband who loved God with all his heart.

She continued down the hallway to the bedroom. “Sadie?” she whispered. “I made you some soup.” Rachel set the bowl on the dresser and lit the oil lamp.

Sadie didn't respond.

Rachel sat on the edge of the bed. Heat radiated off her sister's body. Her face looked as though she'd spent too much time in the sun. The redness had spread over Sadie's cheeks, and her forehead was dotted with perspiration. “
Ach
, God, protect the
boppli
. Sadie will be devastated if she loses it.” Rachel rushed out to the sitting room.

“Sadie needs medical attention
nau
.”

Without speaking, Timothy closed the Bible, crossed the room, and headed toward the bedroom. He took one look at his
fraa
and spun around. “Sit with her.” His voice raspy, he cleared his throat. “I will get help.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

J
ordan stood on the porch and watched the sun setting over the Hartzlers' cornfield.

The door creaked as Micah stepped out. “A fine
nacht, jah
?” He moved to the stairs and beckoned for Jordan to follow. “Let's check the crop.”

Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, Jordan walked beside Micah. The fading sunlight hadn't affected the temperature. Nearly nightfall and the heat index was probably in the 80s. Before he came to live with the Amish, Jordan never thought about giving thanks for simple things like a breeze. He smiled. He'd finally grown accustomed to wearing long sleeves in the heat and having a tight, collarless shirt hug his sweaty neck.

Micah stood at the edge of his cornfield, fingering a cornstalk.

Jordan did the same. “Knee high by fourth of July, right?”

Micah took off his hat and dabbed his head with his handkerchief. “Probably
nett
this year. With the late planting and lack of rain . . . well, that will be up to God, won't it?” He replaced his hat and tucked the cloth into his back pocket.

Jordan felt the weight of this setback on his shoulders. “I should have—”

“
Nay
. God knows the beginning from the end.”

“But I shouldn't have left.”

“God will provide.” Micah clapped Jordan's shoulder. “This is the farmer's life. Some years are plentiful, some years we scrape by.” He chuckled. “We have never gone hungry.”

“That's what my mother used to say when our garden was drought stricken.”

“Having a garden, you've seen the fruit of one's labor.” Micah grinned. “You have a farmer's heart.”

He might have been able to soften to the Plain lifestyle, but he wasn't a farmer. He panicked when the cow needed assistance and had only recently filled the milk bucket without his hands stiffening.

“You did a fine job delivering the calf.”

“Rachel did that. I didn't even know the cow was in labor.”

Micah crossed his arms, looking amused.

“I'm serious. Rachel told me what to do. You taught her well. She saved the calf and maybe the cow too.”

“Perhaps.” Micah crouched to the ground, scooped up a handful of dirt, and inspected it. “I only wish she would give as much attention to cooking and sewing as she does to being a cow's midwife.”

Afraid an affirming comment would somehow betray Rachel, Jordan clamped his mouth tight. Her cooking wasn't horrible. And despite what the unmarried men believed, a little bit of competition with a woman wasn't sinful, unless the men were bitter when they lost. It only bruised their masculinity, and they wouldn't admit it.

Jordan cleared his throat. “I think I'll go back to the little house.”

Micah stood, the rich earth falling through his fingers. “
Jah
, it's getting dark.”

Nathaniel decamped from the field and plodded along with his charge. He entered the house behind Jordan and brought a swift breeze inside with him. Just as Nathaniel had hoped, Jordan noticed the fluttering Bible pages and picked up the Word of Truth.

“Ask, Jordan, and it will be given to you.” Nathaniel's voice penetrated the earthly realm. Yet his charge denied the calling. Jordan stood motionless, void of conviction.

“Seek and you will find.” Nathaniel's exhale carried another prompting. “Ask.”

Rachel's hands trembled as she attempted to thread the needle. She pulled the blue thread taut while gazing at Sadie's closed bedroom door. Thankful to have a project to bide the time, she tied a knot on the long end of the thread. She'd finished sewing the first shirtsleeve while waiting for an update on her sister's condition, but neither Timothy nor his mother, Anna, had come out to tell her anything.

She joined the two sections of blue fabric and began her stitching. The way this evening was going, she might have the new shirt for Jordan completed before she heard anything.

The bedroom door opened. Rachel shoved her sewing to the side and stood.

“Her fever broke,” Timothy reported. “
Mamm
made her an herbal tea that she was able to hold down.”

Rachel followed him into the kitchen. “And the
boppli
? Did Sadie say she feels kicking?”

Timothy smiled. “
Jah
. I did too.” He took a glass from the cabinet and turned on the tap. “Would you look for a letter in the desk? The midwife sent information of who to call if we needed someone.” He sipped some water and tossed the rest in the sink. He placed his hands on either side of the sink and stared despondently out the window into the darkness.

Rachel went to the sitting room, opened the roll-top desk, and found a stack of mail. She recognized Fanny's and Iva's handwriting on most of the letters before coming across the one the midwife had sent.

Rachel tiptoed back down the hallway and peeked inside the bedroom. Anna King sat next to the bed, her head bowed and eyes closed. Rachel tiptoed closer. The floorboards creaked and Anna opened her eyes.

Rachel neared the bed. “Is she sleeping?” she whispered.

“Jah.”
Anna's warm smile couldn't mask her fatigue. Rachel spotted the dark circles under her eyes immediately and wished Timothy would have gone after her
mamm
instead. Sadie had mentioned last week that her mother-in-law had been ill.

“Can I get you anything, perhaps a cup of
kaffi
?”

“Nay, denki.”

Rachel watched her sister and smiled. Sadie's moist, rosy complexion looked flattering compared to her normally pasty skin tone. She sat on the edge of the bed and couldn't resist the urge to place her hand on Sadie's belly. She frowned and changed hand positions when she didn't feel movement. Then the unborn life made its presence known. Rachel caught her breath at the wonderment.
Denki, God
. The baby kicked again, harder this time.

Anna leaned forward in her chair and touched Sadie's forehead. Unable to read the woman's expression, Rachel frowned. “Is she hot?”

“
Nay
. I think she's doing fine.” She let out a long sigh and leaned back in the chair.

“I'll be back in a minute. I have a letter to give to Timothy. I think he's outside on the porch.” Rachel scooted out the door and down the hall.

Timothy entered the house. “I had to get some air.” He motioned to the bedroom. “Any changes?”

“
Nay
, but your
mamm
doesn't look well. Her eyes are sunken and she's tired.” She handed Timothy the letter.

“
Mamm's
still recovering from the flu.” He unfolded the letter and read silently. A smile crept over his face. “She should be back in town tomorrow.”

“That's
gut
.” Rachel breathed easier.

He folded the letter and jammed it into his pocket. “I'm going to check on Sadie and
mei mamm
.”

Rachel followed him. As Timothy crept closer to the bedside, Rachel went around to the other side.

“Let me take you home,” Timothy said to his mother.

“I can stay and look after Sadie.”

“
Nay
,
Mamm
, you're exhausted.”

“I gave
mei
word to Sadie that I would help with the delivery if the midwife wasn't back in town.” She looked at her son and her expression softened. “All right. Just be sure to fetch me if anything changes.”

“The midwife will be back tomorrow. I think we'll be fine until then.” He moved to the bedroom door. “I'll harness the buggy for you,
Mamm
.”

“Denki, sohn.”
Once Timothy left the room, Anna turned to Rachel. “If she wakes up and can sip another cup of tea, I think it will help her upset stomach. She was complaining earlier about pains on her right side, but they eased up with the tea.”

“Okay.” Rachel followed Anna to the sitting room, where she grabbed her sewing. When Timothy poked his head inside and said the buggy was ready, Anna left and Rachel went to sit beside her sister.

Sadie hadn't stirred while Timothy was driving his mother home. He stepped inside the bedroom. “How is she?”

Rachel set her sewing aside. “She's still sleeping.”

Timothy crept closer and sat on the bed. He gently touched Sadie's cheek. “You had me worried,
lieb
,” he said under his breath to his
fraa
.

Timothy's compassion for Sadie reminded Rachel of the way
Daed
looked at
Mamm
when he thought no one was paying attention. Rachel stood, wanting to give them some privacy. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Timothy mumbled something inaudible as Rachel left the room. After loitering in the kitchen for several minutes, she meandered back to the bedroom.

Timothy's hand was on Sadie's belly, a smile filling his face. “He's as sturdy as a horse,” Timothy said, looking up at Rachel.

“You're talking about a
boppli, nett
a horse.” She gave him a playful smile. “And maybe it's a
maydel
.”