The Christmas Quilt: Quilts of Love Series (17 page)

19

I
had been helping in the serving line, and so I knew Adam hadn’t come through. My morning sickness was better that day, for once. Services were at Faith and Aaron Blauch’s, and it must have been . . . it must have been in May going on June? Something like that. I remember the days were growing warmer and Noah was running around like a wild pony. That child has grown like a weed, Annie. It’s hard to believe he’s the first infant you and Samuel brought into the world together.

I’m off my story—you see I don’t tell one as well as you do. I’d gone looking for Adam. I was afraid the teenage boys would start through the line a second time and there would be nothing left, so I’d put back a plate for him. My plan was to tell him where it was and let him be.

I came around the corner of the barn and I saw the two of them. Probably you’re thinking I should have spoken up or done something to make myself known. Maybe. But at the time, I couldn’t. Have you ever stumbled upon a deer and its fawn, Annie? That’s what the moment was like. I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch, and besides—Zeke had that terrified look on his face, you know the one he gets.

I don’t think Rachel beats that child, but perhaps someone has in the past. He freezes and you have to talk him down. We’ve all seen it, so there’s no use looking at me reproachfully. I pray for her and her children same as you do. Pray for their healing and that
Gotte
will bring a man into her life, though with her sour disposition it doesn’t seem likely, does it?

I’m hopping away from my story again.

Zeke was standing there trembling, actually shaking, and it was plain as day why. He was covered in those sticker burrs from head to toe. The child must have rolled in them. I know because I heard Adam say, “How’d you get so many, Zeke?”

Adam, who barely has the patience to groom our own horses properly—he’d rather charm Reba into doing it for him—Adam was squatted down in front of him when I came around the corner. Must have been the way the breeze was stirring, because I could hear every word he said.

“I haven’t seen this many sticker burrs since Reba brought home that mongrel dog, named him Patches, and left him in the barn. He got out through a loose board in the sidewall and went out in the pasture. Didn’t run away though. Patches knew where the soup bone was coming from. He did manage to roll in the sticker patch and Reba sat out there and combed every single one from the dog’s scraggly hair.”

Zeke didn’t say anything. You know how silent he is. He stood there, in his Sunday clothes, with his hat in his hands and his head bowed as if he were still praying along with Bishop Levi. I could see the back of his neck from where I stood at the corner of the barn, and I started to step out, I did. But then Adam, who had been pulling stickers from the boy’s pants, said, “What’s wrong, Zeke? Why are you shaking?”

Zeke looked up, and I thought he might speak, but instead he shook his head once and stared back down at the ground.

“Don’t worry about it. We won’t tell anybody. We’ll have these out, in another . . . well, in another hour or so. No harm, no foul as they say in the sports column I sometimes read.”

Zeke glanced up again, and Adam laughed then.

“You didn’t know I like sports? Sure. I keep up with the baseball games the
Englischers
play, and even sometimes the football. Can’t say as I follow the other sports much.”

Eventually Zeke held out his arms, and Adam continued pulling out the sticker burrs. They were even in his hair, somehow. You know how those burrs are . . . you can’t brush them out, you have to pull, and you have to pull carefully or it can tear the fabric. I happen to know that Rachel didn’t notice because later that day, when I’d already hightailed it back to the table and Adam and Zeke had appeared as if nothing at all was wrong, Rachel called him over.

She asked him what he’d been doing, and Zeke only shrugged. He did glance over at Adam, who said, “We were talking sports. Right, Zeke?”

Zeke nodded, because of course it was the truth.

I ran and fetched Adam’s plate for him, along with a big glass of lemonade. I knew he must be awful hungry, but when I put it down in front of him he grabbed my hand and started talking about the babies, asking if I thought they would be boys or girls.

Somehow, I knew that day that Adam would be a
gut
father—not because he’s a patient man—believe me, he’s not. The next evening, he was outside hollering at one of those engines of his that wouldn’t go back together right. No, I think he’ll be a
gut
father because he can find patience, he can call it up out of his heart for a child, and maybe that accounts for more than if he’d had it there all along.

Annie put down her quilt square.

She knew, firsthand, how impatient her brother could be. And yes, she’d also seen the tender side of him—less so lately as the pressure of having a family had begun to take its toll.

She studied Leah. “A wonderful fourth story, and it matches our fourth Dutch child.”

She held up the finished appliqué square. The boy wore a purple shirt, blue pants, black shoes, and black hat. They both laughed. Annie pressed her fingertips against the quilt blocks they were putting together. She would always remember the stories of love, joy, peace, and patience—the stories of the fruit of God’s spirit. As her mind brushed over each one, she was reassured everything would turn out fine.

The remainder of the afternoon sped by.

Soon Adam was calling, still talking about what a success the auction had been. They had the totals now, and the sale of goods had raised more money than expected. Combined with what was already available in the medical fund, Leah’s expected medical expenses and those of the babies shouldn’t be a problem. It was a huge burden lifted from everyone’s shoulders.

Adam had been full of details on Saturday, and Sunday he hadn’t called. This evening he seemed to be telling Leah small tidbits he’d forgotten to relay. Annie knew the moment he began talking about Reba and Trent because Leah sighed and said, “
Ya
, we know. Annie received a letter from her and has already written back. We’ll all pray, Adam.”

Annie was relieved to hear the easy way the two spoke with one another. It seemed the tension from previous weeks had vanished.

“Are you sure?” Leah asked into the phone.

Turning abruptly from the window, Annie found a giant grin on Leah’s face. “Eli himself told you this?”

“What—”

Leah held up her hand. “
Ya
, I’ll tell her . . . I miss you too, Adam . . . Tomorrow night. I’ll be here. Where else would I be? . . . Yes, I’ll give your love to the babies.”

She hung up the phone, not even attempting to hide the wistful sigh. “I miss him.”

“Sure you do, but what did he say about Eli?”

“That he’s
in lieb
.”

“Eli? My
Onkel
Eli?”

“
Ya.
What other Eli do we know in our district? And you’ll never guess with whom.”

“I’m not going to have to guess, because you’re going to tell me.” Annie scooted her chair closer. “Tell!”

Leah tapped her chin as if she was suddenly having trouble remembering, but she couldn’t hold out for long. “Rachel!”

Annie searched through her mind. Coming up blank, she finally asked, “Rachel who?”

“Rachel, Samuel’s
schweschder
!”

“Oh, Leah. I thought there must be another Rachel I couldn’t remember. Are you sure?”

“
Ya.
Adam says . . .” Leah shrugged. “Adam says she’s different this last week or so, or at least Eli says she’s different. Adam admits he hasn’t paid much attention.”

Different? How different could she be? Annie had been praying for a change of heart in Rachel, had been praying God would bring someone into her life to care for her and show her love. But Eli? If it were true, God certainly did work in mysterious ways.

Leah had already had her dinner, which always came early, same as at home. Annie stayed long enough to help her walk around the floor one more time. It seemed she moved somewhat slower, but then they were both distracted by all they had learned from the phone call. She wondered if she should stay, but Leah shook her head and said she was tired and would go to sleep early.

Annie was aware that the evening hours in a hospital room could drag on and seem to crawl toward morning. If Leah were sleeping though, and she did look more tired than usual, perhaps it would be best for Annie to return to the boarding house.

She was gathering her things to leave when Leah placed her hands on her forehead and groaned.

“
Was iss letz?
Should I call a nurse?”

“
Nein.
It’s only my head.” Leah sat forward, now cradling her head. “I suddenly have the worst headache.”

Annie dropped her bag and her coat and slipped the automatic blood pressure cup onto Leah’s arm. Then she pushed the
Call Nurse
button.

“Leah, I want you to sit back, dear. Sit back and take a few deep breaths. The nurse is coming.”

“Everything all right in here?”

“Her BP is—”

“I see it.” Foster pushed the call button again, his usually cheerful expression was missing as he bustled around the room. His movements were quick and efficient, and they did much to calm Annie’s fears.

When someone from the nurse’s desk beeped the room, he advised them, “We need to contact Dr. Reese. Stat.”

“It hurts, Annie.”

“I know it does, honey. They’ll give you something very soon.”

“Let’s put the fetal monitor back on her. Annie, help me slip it around her waist.”

Together they worked it under and around Leah. The two lines immediately appeared on the monitor display, and they confirmed what Leah’s blood pressure had shown. Both the babies and Leah were in distress.

The head nurse walked in. Her name was Nancy Baxter, and they’d had very little to do with her because Leah had been on intermittent monitoring since her placenta bleed had stopped. Baxter was older, tall, thin, gray-headed, and Annie could tell by one look she’d seen most everything a maternity ward could offer.

“Leah, your blood pressure is very high. That’s the reason your head hurts. I want you to take this medicine, lie back, and try to rest.” Baxter handed her a small paper cup, the kind Annie had handed to patients a hundred times.

Annie didn’t see what was in it, because Baxter was issuing orders.

“Annie, would you draw those blinds, please? We don’t want any sights or sounds outside to agitate your sister.”

Leah had taken the medicine, but continued groaning from the bed. “I think I might throw up.”

“I’d like you to keep that medicine down, Leah. Also, we’ll want you to lie on your left side until we say otherwise.” Baxter glanced up. “Annie, could you pour a little ginger ale in a cup for her? Perhaps it will settle her stomach while Foster starts a line.”

“An IV?” Leah glanced in confusion from Foster on her left to Nurse Baxter on her right.

“Leah, focus on me. It’s going to be fine. Do you believe me?”

Leah nodded, though her chin was trembling.

“Your sister Annie caught this very quickly. Your blood pressure was high, too high, but we’re bringing it down. I want you to focus on something that will calm you. Can you do that? Think of something peaceful, and try to relax.”

“The quilt,” Leah whispered.

Annie snatched the bag off the floor and pulled out the single panel they’d completed. “Remember, Leah? Love, joy—”

“And peace.
Ya.
” Leah pulled in a deep breath.

“Good girl. Here, sip this.”

Leah took a small drink of the ginger ale, placed her hands on top of the quilt panel, and closed her eyes. Annie couldn’t make out her words, but she knew that she was praying.

Moments passed as they waited, all eyes glued on the monitor.

“Fetal heartbeats are stabilizing,” Foster said.

Baxter was called into the hall by an orderly. When she returned she announced, “Doctor Reese is on her way. Nurse Foster will stay with you until the doctor walks into this room, and he’ll call me if there’s any change at all.”

Touching Annie’s arm, she nodded toward the hall.

Once the door to Leah’s room had closed behind them, Baxter began, not pausing to give Annie a chance to offer her version of events.

“Normally I don’t abide family members touching my equipment, but in this case you did the right thing. As I’m sure you realize, her BP was dangerously high. Dr. Reese ordered a single dose of Methyldopa orally and Labetalol intravenously. I’m not accustomed to sharing such details with individuals who aren’t staff; however . . .” she paused to give Annie a once-over, from the top of her
kapp
-covered head to the toes of her sensible shoes. “I’ve heard things about you, from your former supervisors—good things. And you’ve proven yourself to be useful here. Sometimes Amish patients can be a problem—no offense.”