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He clung to the steering wheel and peered out the windshield. At least he heeded Mamm’s instructions.
After another eternity, they pulled into the parking lot. Elam rolled to a stop as she grabbed Joseph’s car seat and hopped out, Mamm sliding out the other side.
“I’ll park and be right—”
Naomi slammed the door.
By the time she carried her wailing child inside and registered him at the desk, Elam had joined them. Why had he come? Better for him to stay in that truck. Mamm was here.
The waiting room buzzed with activity. Sick children. Some virus or bug must be going around. Maybe Joseph had picked up his illness from one of the children at the church service two weeks ago. Mamm calmly sat on one of the chairs on the far side of the room. Probably praying.
Elam sat across from her, clasping his straw hat with his big, work-roughened hands. She paced the room and jiggled Joseph on her hip. Elam patted the chair on his left. “Come sit, Naomi. You’re going to wear yourself out.”
“I can’t. What’s taking them so long?”
“Fretting about it won’t make them call you sooner. Now sit. I can hold Joseph if you want a break.”
“Nein, denki.” The harsh words flew from her lips, but she would not give her son to him. Never. “I’m sorry, Elam. I shouldn’t have been short just now. I am thankful for your help tonight.”
She moved the car seat from the chair beside Mamm and sat. Joseph’s little body melded into hers. She kissed his burning cheek.
Elam peered at Joseph. “Does he often get sick?”
“The doctor said if he got a respiratory infection, it could be very bad. He has a hole in his heart, and that is not good for his lungs. I don’t fully understand, and it’s hard to explain. It’s dangerous for him to be sick.” Like always, he managed to get her to open up. To share her heart. She couldn’t allow that. He’d broken it once before. She wouldn’t give him a chance to do it again. She pursed her lips together.
A nurse dressed in bright blue scrubs emerged from the doorway to the side of the desk. “Joseph Miller?”
Naomi gathered Joseph’s diaper bag and stood. She and Mamm followed the nurse into one of the small rooms and sat in the chairs beside the little desk.
Naomi leaned over, willing her hands to stop shaking.
Julie, as the nurse had introduced herself, took Joseph’s history, his blood pressure, his temperature and his pulse, and typed everything into the computer. “So he hasn’t been sick that long?”
“A sniffle or two this morning, but I didn’t think anything of it. I put him in bed before I went out. My mamm was watching him, and she sent for me not too long afterward to tell me he was crying and wouldn’t eat.” She shouldn’t have left him. It was her fault he got so sick. Mamm pulled her into a side hug.
“Any tugging on the ears?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Naomi forced the words around the lump in her throat.
Mamm patted her hand.
“Cough?”
“Yes, deep and tight.”
The questions went on. Mamm sat beside her until Julie finished. “The doctor will be in soon. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll be right down the hall.”
As the nurse closed the door, Naomi worried the hem of her sleeve. Mamm rubbed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He’s made of sturdy stuff.”
“I’m scared.” Her insides quivered.
“I know. But God is watching out for him.”
“I could lose him.” More tears streamed down her face.
“I know, my daughter, I know. But the doctors will take gut care of him. He will be fine. You’ll see.”
Mamm’s words washed over her, but her stomach still tightened. “Even with Aaron’s accident and Daniel’s fall, I never felt like this. So helpless. So frightened of being alone.” She nestled Joseph against her, the one good thing in her life.
Dear God, don’t take him from me. I can’t stand to lose him.
* * *
Naomi kissed her sleeping son on his cool cheek and pulled up the blanket to his chin, careful not to rock the cradle and wake him. Now, with several doses of antibiotics in him, his breathing was once again normal. Such a scare he’d given her the other day. Denki, Lord, that he’s well.
As well as he could be for a child with a hole in his heart.
He puckered his blue lips and puckered his mouth in his sleep. With one more kiss, Naomi slipped out the bedroom door.
Mamm, a basket of laundry in her hands, met her at the bottom of the steps. “Ready for your first day back at the bakery?”
Naomi’s stomach churned. Other than the singing on Sunday, she hadn’t been away from Joseph since his birth. And look how that had turned out. “I don’t want to leave him. What if he needs me? He did when I went to the singing.”
“Laura and I will be here all day. You’ll be across the street. His getting sick had nothing to do with you leaving him. It’s gut for you to get out of the house, even if only for a few hours of the day. If you don’t, you’ll go stir-crazy in no time. And a happy mamm makes for a happy bobbeli.”
“Still...”
“Off with you. Take your mind from your worries for a while. Go, before I make you iron all of this.”
Naomi tried to smile at Mamm’s joke. Ironing was the worst form of torture. “I’m going, I’m going. Anything to avoid that.” She gave a slight chuckle. “But you get me if Joseph needs me for anything at all. Anything.”
“I will.” Mamm kissed her on the cheek in much the same way she had kissed Joseph. Her tight muscles relaxed a little bit.
Before she knew it, Naomi stood on the threshold of the walkout basement’s back door leading to the downstairs bakery. After drawing in a deep breath, she stepped inside, warmth enveloping her, the yeasty aroma of bread, doughnuts and cinnamon rolls welcoming her.
She hadn’t been here as an employee since Joseph’s birth. The people, the routine, the work had brought her a measure of comfort after Daniel’s death. Perhaps Mamm was right. Maybe being here would keep her from worrying about her son, even if only for a few hours.
Rachel Miller, her sister-in-law and best friend, scurried into the hall. “Naomi, welcome back. How gut it is to see you.” She wrapped her in a hug. “How is Joseph doing?”
“Fine now. But that illness was one of the scariest things that I’ve ever had to experience.” Joseph was her precious only child. His sickness could have been serious, even life-threatening.
“The Lord is gracious. And it is gut to have you beside me again, even if it’s only a few days a week.”
They entered the kitchen, and Naomi stared at the stoves lining the walls, the big sink in the back and the large metal table in the middle where the women did most of their work. Rachel squeezed her shoulder. “Are you okay? You sure you’re up for this?”
She had to be. “Ja, except it’s almost like I’m dreaming. But Mamm says it’s gut for me to get out of the house for a while, and the money will help with the repairs to the dawdi haus so I can move in there. Have a measure of independence.”
“Whatever the reason you came back to work, I’m glad you’re here.”
They set to their tasks, Rachel kneading dough that would become pretzels, and Naomi kneading seven-grain bread. Before long, the rhythm of the work settled her.
“You crazy old man, what are you doing?” A voice carried from the back room.
Naomi turned to Rachel. “Is that Sylvia Herschberger?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Just getting this flour you wanted.”
Naomi chuckled. “Ja, that’s Simon answering her.”
“Let me help you with that.”
Elam? Was that his voice? Her stomach fluttered in her midsection. Which was ridiculous. He had helped them when Joseph got sick, but that was all.
“Watch out.”
Boom. Crash. Bang.
“Simon!” Sylvia screeched.
Naomi wiped her hands on her apron and scurried to the back room. “Ach, Simon, oh no.”
The older man lay on the floor, his right leg jutting out at an odd angle. Elam pulled a ladder off him. Sylvia stood over her husband, wringing her hands. Flour covered all three of them and the floor. Dust floated on the sunlit air.
Naomi hurried to his side. “What can I do? Tell me how to help.”
Elam’s green eyes widened when he saw her. “We’ll need an ambulance.”
Rachel reached Naomi. “I’ll run down the street to call for one.”
Naomi knelt beside the gray-haired man, his hat crushed underneath him. “Simon?”
“Oh, my leg.” He spoke the words through gritted teeth.
“I told you not to climb up there for the flour.” His wife paced the room stacked with large quantities of baking supplies, her black shoes leaving prints on the dusty floor. “Why didn’t you wait for Elam to get here to do it?”
Elam motioned for Sylvia to stop. “That doesn’t matter. Right now, let’s get him comfortable while we wait for the ambulance.”
Sylvia wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “There are pillows and a blanket on our bed upstairs.” She wobbled on her feet.
“I’ll get them. And you look like you need a chair.” Naomi held her by the arm. “Lean against the wall. Will you be okay while I grab a seat for you?”
Sylvia nodded.
Elam placed the ladder against the shelves. “I’ll help you carry everything.”
Naomi opened her mouth to object, but shut it right away. Instead, she followed him up the stairs. “Why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same question.” He opened the door to the family’s living quarters.
“I’m trying to scrape together some money to repair the dawdi haus for myself and my son.”
“And Simon asked me to make a few new picnic tables for the Englisch to sit on when the weather’s nice. The ones they have now are unsteady and falling apart. They’re giving me a chance to prove myself and show people I’m serious about returning. I’m hoping it will lead to a new business venture. How is Joseph, by the way?”
She popped into the Herschbergers’ bedroom and pulled a couple of pillows and a red-and-blue wedding-ring quilt from the bed before returning to the kitchen, where Elam grabbed a chair. “Fine. And once more, denki for what you did for us when he got sick.”
“I’m happy I was at the singing to give you a ride.” His smile was tight, like he forced it.
They descended the stairs and returned to the Herschbergers. Naomi knelt beside Simon. “Here you are.” She lifted him enough to slide two pillows under his head, and then covered him with the quilt. Elam helped Sylvia into the chair.
Simon grasped the coverlet, his knuckles turning white. “Guess I’m going to have to go to the hospital.”
Naomi took care not to hurt him when she straightened the quilt over his twisted knee. “You’ve broken your leg. And done a good job of it. Let’s hope that’s all.”
“How long do you think I will be out of commission?” Simon groaned.
“Only a doctor can answer that.” What was taking that ambulance so long?
A furrow appeared on Simon’s brow. “But the auction is coming up.”
All the air rushed from Naomi’s lungs. That auction was to raise money for medical needs in the district. Like for Joseph’s surgery. And Aaron’s ongoing expenses. Simon did most of the organizing. How would they pay for anything without the funds the event raised?
Elam peered out the door. “I hear the siren. The ambulance must be just down the road. You hang on.”
Simon winced as he nodded. “And you and Naomi will take over coordinating the auction.”
“You want us to do it?” Elam spun around to face inside.
“You’ll do a fine job. I won’t have to worry with the two of you in charge.”
Elam hawed for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Make an old man happy. Let me rest well.”
Simon couldn’t be serious. “Nein, we can’t.” They couldn’t.
“She’s right. It would be too—”
“Nonsense. You can make it work.”
Elam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Fine, we’ll do it.”
A bolt of lightning couldn’t have shocked her more. “We will?”
Chapter Three
The sirens wailed as the ambulance raced from the bakery’s parking lot, carrying Simon Herschberger to the hospital, his wife at his side. Elam relaxed his shoulders. His friend and mentor was in gut hands now.
He turned to walk up the driveway, back to his wagon loaded with lumber for the picnic tables. The crowd of curious Englischers dispersed, some to their cars, others into the line for their baked goods.
Naomi scurried in front of him, blocking his path, her hands on her hips. “What did you do that for?” Her voice was a low growl.
“Do what?” His innocence was an act, one she was sure to see through.
“Volunteer us, me, to organize the auction. How could you do that without consulting me? Do you know how much time and effort that takes?” Color rose in her cheeks. “And I have a very sick bobbeli to care for. One who needs surgery as soon as possible. When am I supposed to have the time to work on this with you? You, of all people.”
The shine in her face got his blood to pumping. Her anger pierced him. When had their love turned to such bitterness? He peered around. Several of the Englisch stared at them. “You might want to keep your voice down.” He nodded in the direction of the bakery.
She whipped around and then turned to face him, the red that had graced her cheeks dissipating.
“That’s why I said you and I would put it together. Much of the money raised will go to pay Joseph’s medical bills and my daed’s. You’re as invested in this as I am. I thought you’d want to be part of it.”
“I have no desire to do anything other than sew a few quilts and bake a couple of pies. Besides that, leave me out of it.”
“Simon and Sylvia are counting on us.” Ja, it would be difficult to see her on a regular basis, but he could find a way to do it. Couldn’t she? Maybe they would be able to discover a path beyond the hurt.
“I suggest you volunteer someone else. It won’t be me.” She turned her back to him once more and started for the bakery.
He caught her by the elbow. Why he did it when she had just lashed out at him, he couldn’t say. “Won’t you reconsider?”
“Who’s making a scene now?”
He bent to her height and whispered in her ear, the clean scent of soap tickling his nose. “Please assist me. I’ll do most of the work.”
“Aren’t you helping your daed on the farm? Since his stroke, I think he’d need you.” She kept her gaze forward.
“I am, but Isaac will soon be back to take over the day-to-day operations. You know farming isn’t my life’s calling.”
“Go build your picnic tables, Elam, and leave me alone.” She yanked free of his grasp and scuttled to the kitchen.
This time, he let her go.
He scrubbed his face. Would he ever live down what he’d done years ago? It had been an accident, and she had turned her back on him when everyone else did. Then and now it seemed she couldn’t pardon the man she had claimed to love. He lost himself in the work in front of him, sawing and screwing and sanding until he shed his jacket and wiped sweat from his forehead, the day warm for early spring.
The line of customers stretched out the door, around the path, up the steps and into the parking lot. Naomi and the others inside would be busy. But he glanced up as a group of Amish women exited through the back door. And there Naomi was, in the middle of the bunch, a slight smile touching her lips as she reacted to whatever Rachel said.
He averted his gaze. Bumping into her so much made being back in the district more difficult. Part of him still loved her as much as when he left. But another part of him ached at her hard-heartedness. Motherhood added a soft roundness to her face, color to her cheeks, straightness to her back. Though he had first thought she hadn’t changed, she was not the woman he left behind.
“What are you doing there?”
Elam sucked in a breath. Rachel peered over his shoulder as he screwed two pieces of wood together. “You want to scare a man to death?”
“Ach, it’s not that easy to frighten you. If I had really wanted to, I would have snuck up even quieter.” Rachel stood with her arms crossed.
“So you were trying to give me a heart attack. Isn’t it enough we’ve had an ambulance here once already today?”
Naomi tugged on Rachel’s arm. “Come on, let’s have some lunch. The other girls are already sitting down to eat. It’s busy, and they’ll need us back soon. Especially with Sylvia not here.”
Rachel nodded at Elam. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Ja, I need a break.” Elam wiped his hands on his pants. “Let me wash up, and I’ll join you.”
A scowl appeared on Naomi’s face. Well, she may not be happy about it, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting a bite to eat. More than anything, he wanted her forgiveness. Everyone’s forgiveness.
After a stop in the washroom to scrub his hands and face, he joined the girls at a table away from where the customers ate their baked goods. Still the crowds stared, giggled and even pointed.
The only spot available was on the end of the bench, right beside Naomi. He plopped down, and she scooted as far away from him as possible, knocking elbows with Rachel as she unwrapped her sandwich from the wax paper. Rachel scraped some dilly chicken salad onto a paper plate and handed it to Elam.
He ate a few bites before turning to Naomi. “When would be a gut time to get together to work on the auction? I can speak to Sylvia when she returns from the hospital, find out what Simon has planned and what we still need to do. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“I told you I’m not working with you. You volunteered for this. Take care of it on your own.” Her words were so icy, her breath should have puffed in small clouds in front of her.
“Wait.” He grabbed her by the forearm. She winced and pulled away. Should he press the matter? Ja, what did he have to lose? He had promised Simon. “You haven’t heard the best part yet.”
“There’s more?” She hugged herself.
“We can make it the biggest, most successful auction yet if you tell your story about Daniel and Joseph to the newspapers across the state. The Englisch will flock here to buy quilts and furniture and baked goods, all to support a widow and her little son.”
She clenched her fists and sat back, almost tilting off the bench. “You want me to do what?” She almost screeched by the end.
He closed his eyes and grimaced. Once again, he had managed to anger her. He couldn’t seem to do anything else.
* * *
A cold sweat broke out all over Naomi. “Absolutely not.” She kept her voice low to avoid drawing attention from the bakery’s customers for the second time today but stern enough for Elam to be clear about her desires. “I will not help you with the auction. And I will not, under any circumstance, go to the papers.” She wadded up her sandwich wrapper and stuffed it into her bag.
He opened his eyes, and a vein in his neck throbbed. “After all this time, are you still so angry?”
Her thoughts scrambled in her brain like eggs in a frying pan. How did she identify this burning in her chest? Anger? Or something just the opposite? “So much has changed since the night of the accident. So much that can never be undone. Don’t you understand?”
“I do. But you once claimed to love me. Didn’t that mean anything? Can’t you forgive me?”
She breathed in and out, the back of her neck aching. “You ask too many difficult questions. Ones I don’t have the answers for, that I may never have the answers for. I’m dealing with my husband’s loss and my son’s serious illness and disability. Isn’t that enough?”
The other women gathered the remains of their lunches and meandered inside to resume work. Naomi rose, as well. With a brush of his hand against hers, time stood still. Just like years ago, her knees went mushy, and she thumped into her seat. She nodded at Rachel to stay. Her friend shrugged and bit into a peanut butter cookie.
Elam plowed ahead. “The auction is just a couple weeks away. If you’re going to tell your story to the papers, we have to contact the reporters soon. You want to give their readers enough notice so they can make plans to come here.”
“It’s bad enough to have these people here, staring at us. We’re nothing more than a tourist attraction.” She motioned wide, her gesture sweeping over the lot packed with cars, one pulling up the gravel driveway every couple of minutes. “But to encourage even more of them to come, that’s not a gut idea.”
“What are they going to do?”
“Disrupt our lives. Mine has been stretched and changed until I don’t recognize it. I don’t need any further interference.” Couldn’t he go away and leave her alone? Just leave her in peace? “Why are you even back in the area? Do you want to bring the Englisch to us?”
“Nein, not at all.”
But he had abandoned her. When she’d gone to him for comfort, he had left. And hadn’t returned until now. “Don’t you miss the friends you made out there?”
“I missed the Amish much more.”
“And your family? How do they feel about you being back? Won’t they miss you when you leave again?”
“I’m home to stay, Naomi.”
She couldn’t help but be doubtful. Forever didn’t mean much to him.
He stabbed his plastic fork on his plate. “Listen to me. The most important person to you in your life is your son, nein?”
“Ja, that’s right.”
“He’s beautiful, Naomi. Such a gift from the Lord. All you have left of Daniel.”
Rachel stared straight ahead, her eyes filling with tears. “My brother would have done anything for his little boy.”
“He would have been a wunderbaar daed.” Naomi patted Rachel’s hand.
Elam nodded. “Parents are like that. They would make any sacrifice for their children. Even though I’m not a daed yet, I know I would walk to the moon if I thought it would help my children. Isn’t giving Joseph the best chance at a happy, healthy life worth anything you might have to do to make that happen?”
Tears now clouded Naomi’s eyes. The way Elam had of putting things... “Of course. That’s why I’m working here. That’s why I take him to the doctor, why I walk the floor with him at night, sing to him, love him. But there are things I can think of that I wouldn’t do.”
“Wouldn’t you do anything that was legal, moral and ethical?”
“Maybe.” Every time Elam came near her, she couldn’t think straight. He spoke with pretty words and was very convincing. If he were Englisch, perhaps he would be a lawyer.
“All you would have to do is sit down with a couple of reporters and tell your story. Tell them how much you love Joseph. What he means to you. And the good the auction does, not only for your son, but for people like Aaron and Simon and my daed.”
All of her muscles tensed. She couldn’t cry. Wouldn’t let him see how much he affected her. But the back of her throat burned.
Why did God have to take Daniel? Why did He have to make Joseph so sick? And why had He brought Elam back?
“Fine, I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Four
Naomi lifted her face to the sun and breathed in the scent of warming earth. Mamm, about to make an oatmeal pie, had found herself out of brown sugar. With Joseph down for a nap and the weather this warm and beautiful, Naomi offered to walk to the bulk food store. What she didn’t tell Mamm was how perfect the timing was. She and Elam had a meeting with Sylvia to pick up the information Simon had put together for the auction.
She hadn’t found the courage yet to tell her parents she was working with Elam. Forcing the words through her lips shouldn’t be this hard. But she held back. They would not approve of her spending time with him, though they had no basis for worry. She would never let him worm his way into her life again. Once this auction was over, she would steer clear of him for the rest of her life. She would have to tell them sooner or later. Nothing stayed secret for very long here. But she would hold off as long as she could.