His Amish Choice Page 5

  “Oh, Lizzie. I’m so sorry.” Abby squeezed her arm. “His return must be difficult for you. And to have him working at your farm every day... But don’t forget to keep an open heart and have faith. Gott will care for you both and all will work out fine. I know it will.”

  Lizzie couldn’t manage to muster a smile in return. “I’m not so sure.”

  Resting her palm against her baby bump, Abby rubbed gently. “With my past history, I never would have believed Gott could make my life turn out so well. I thought I could never trust men and would never marry. But I soon learned that I was wrong. Give Gott a chance and He’ll work so many blessings in your life, just as He did mine.”

  Lizzie understood. Since her marriage to Jakob, Abby had confided that she’d been physically and verbally abused by her father and elder brother. Abby was so happy now and Lizzie was glad. But she almost dropped the serving bowl when Abby turned and headed straight over to the table where Eli was sitting.

  Breathing a sigh of resignation, Lizzie followed her friend, but couldn’t help wondering if this day could get any worse. She wanted to turn the other cheek. To forget her pain and humiliation and believe that Eli truly was back for good. But she couldn’t help thinking that Marva was right about one thing. Eli wouldn’t stay.

  * * *

  “When did you cut your leg on the hay baler?”

  Eli sat at the table next to Darrin Albrecht, their deacon. The autumn sun beat down on the men, but they’d each removed their black felt hats for their noon meal. They spoke in companionable friendship, waiting as the women set the food before them.

  A rather hefty and somber man, Darrin was middle-aged with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair and a long beard to match. As the deacon, it was his job to assist the bishop in disciplinary issues, to ensure that all members of the Gmay were following the rules of the Ordnung and to announce upcoming marriages.

  “It’s been two months since it happened and it wasn’t even a bad cut. I can’t understand why it’s taking so long to heal,” Darrin said.

  Out of his peripheral vision, Eli caught sight of Lizzie standing just behind his left shoulder. She held a large, steaming dish, the aroma tantalizing. He leaned back, giving her and Abby room to scoop soup into his bowl. Along with the other women, they worked in silence, seeing to everyone’s needs before their own. Glancing up, he saw Lizzie’s face looked pale. She’d been in the kitchen earlier and he couldn’t help wondering if she agreed with Marva Geingerich’s opinion of him.

  He clamped a hard will on his anger. When he’d returned, he’d known he might face disapproval from some of his people. It didn’t change anything. He wanted to be here. And that meant he must exercise self-discipline, control his feelings and remain passive in the face of adversity. It’s what the Lord would want him to do.

  “Are you all right?” he asked Lizzie, worried that she and his mother were both overly upset by what had transpired.

  “Ja, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Before he could answer, she ducked her head and moved on to Deacon Albrecht’s bowl.

  Turning, Eli faced Darrin. “May I see your wound?”

  He was conscious of Lizzie moving to the other side of the table as she served the other men, still close enough to overhear his conversation.

  Beneath the table, Darrin hiked up his homemade pant leg to the knee. A gauze bandage had been affixed to the side of his lower calf with white tape. Eli ducked down and Darrin lifted the gauze to reveal a thin, jagged cut no more than an inch long. Though it didn’t look deep, the wound was swollen and angry red.

  “Ach, I have no doubt it’s infected.” Eli wasn’t a medical doctor, but he recognized a septic injury when he saw one.

  “Norma cleans it for me every day with hydrogen peroxide and ointment, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference.” Darrin pressed the bandage back in place and pulled his pant leg down.

  Sitting up straight, Eli considered the man for a moment. “Have you seen a doctor about it?”

  “Ne! There’s no need for that. I don’t trust those Englisch doctors.” Darrin waved a hand in the air, then buttered a thick slice of bread.

  Eli watched the man as he lifted his glass and smiled at Lizzie. Setting the serving bowl of soup down, she picked up a pitcher of water and refilled his glass...which Darrin had emptied for the third time since they’d sat down twenty minutes earlier. Several women from the congregation hovered nearby to keep the men’s plates and glasses filled.

  “You seem overly thirsty today,” Eli said as he lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth.

  “Ja, he’s always thirsty lately, even when he’s not working in the fields.” Linda Albrecht set a plate of sliced ham in front of them. She must have come outside while they were engaged in conversation.

  “What about fatigue? Are you feeling more tired than usual?” Eli asked.

  Darrin inclined his head. “Now that you mention it, I am more tired, even when I’ve had a full night’s sleep. And sometimes, my feet feel numb too. Do you think the cut could be causing that?”

  Eli took a deep inhale and let it go. This didn’t sound good. “I’d feel better if you saw the doctor as soon as possible.”

  “That’s what I suggested, but he won’t go,” Linda said, resting her hands on her hips as she tossed her husband an I told you so look.

  “Ach, I’m fine. I’m sure the wound will heal eventually,” Darrin insisted.

  Eli met the man’s eyes and touched his arm to make his point clear. “I think you’re wrong, Deacon Albrecht. Please, go see the doctor. I don’t want to alarm you, but you should ask him to test you for diabetes. If you’ve got diabetes, chances are it’s probably keeping your wound from healing, which could cause other serious problems down the road. Don’t take chances with your health. You want to be around to take care of your familye for many years to come.”

  Linda widened her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, my! Diabetes?”

  Eli nodded. “He has some of the symptoms, but don’t take my word for it. Let the doctor diagnose it for you. He’ll be able to run some blood tests and let you know for sure. If the test is positive, he’ll prescribe medication to control the problem. At the very least, he can ensure that wound on your leg doesn’t turn gangrenous.”

  Linda gasped. “Gangrene?”

  Darrin pursed his mouth, looking doubtful. Because Eli believed the man had a serious health problem, he pressed the issue further. “I’m dead serious about this, Deacon Albrecht. Go to the doctor first thing tomorrow morning. Please, do as I ask.”

  Darrin must have heard the urgency in his voice because his mouth dropped open. “You really mean it, don’t you, Eli?”

  Eli nodded emphatically. “I absolutely do. I want you to get some proper medical help.”

  “Ja, don’t you worry. We will go first thing after our morning chores,” Linda said. She was looking at her husband with a stern, wifely expression that would tolerate no refusals.

  Knowing Linda would make Darrin go to the doctor, Eli felt relieved. He smiled and switched topics to the price of hay. When he reached for his empty glass, he caught Lizzie standing nearby. A disapproving expression drew her eyebrows together, but she hurried to fill his glass.

  “Danke,” he said.

  “Gaern gscheh.” She seemed both surprised and critical of what he’d told Deacon Albrecht. No doubt she disapproved.

  She walked away and Eli longed to call her back. To tell her of the extensive training he’d received in order to become a paramedic and that he knew what he was talking about. But these people would not be impressed. Nor did he want to sound boastful. After all, his training was from the Lord so he could serve others. It wasn’t a matter of pride.

  And he was glad he had it—and could use it to help the deacon. Though Eli wasn’t positive Darrin Albrecht had diabetes, he was absolutely certain of
one thing. If the man didn’t get quality medical care soon, his wound could fester into gangrene and he’d lose his leg and possibly his life. But how could he tell Lizzie that? How could he explain that he only had the Deacon Albrecht’s best interests at heart?

  “Eli, if you’re finished eating, will you help us out?”

  Jarred from his thoughts, Eli turned to find Martin Hostetler standing next to him, a wide smile on his face.

  “Come play volleyball with us. We need another player to complete two teams and, as I recall, you are good at it.” Martin tossed a white ball high into the air, then caught it.

  Deacon Albrecht smiled. “Go on, Eli. You’ll have more fun with your young friends than sitting here with me.”

  Eli stood and turned toward the lawn. A net was tied across the grass, affixed to two long poles that had been cemented into old tires. Lizzie stood in front of the net. Seeing her, a feeling of anticipation zipped through Eli. Obviously she’d been recruited too. It had been years since he’d played volleyball...back when he and Lizzie were kids and still crazy in love with each other.

  Walking over to the net with Martin, Eli glanced at the other unmarried people surrounding him. They seemed to be paired up on two sides. Some were as young as eleven years, while a few were as old as him and Martin.

  Lizzie stood gripping her hands together, looking suddenly shy.

  “Which side am I on?” Eli asked.

  “You’ll be on this side.” Martin pointed to Lizzie’s team and Eli saw her immediate frown.

  She turned away, stepping to the back row, but Martin placed Eli right beside her. From where he stood beneath the shade of a tall elm tree, Bishop Yoder showed a satisfied smile. Eli couldn’t help wondering if the man had rigged this to get him near Lizzie. Everyone knew they’d been engaged once. No doubt some of the congregation was trying to pair them back together. One look at Lizzie’s wary gaze told him it wouldn’t work.

  She turned aside, seeming to focus on the other team as they served. She jumped gracefully, her hands fisted together as she struck the ball. From there, Eli knocked it easily over the net, scoring a point for their team.

  Several of their teammates clapped their hands and cheered, but Lizzie stood silent. The ball was served again and volleyed back and forth for several minutes, then it zipped directly toward Eli. He hit the ball lightly, offering a layup to Lizzie, just like he’d done when they were teenagers. Instead of spiking the ball over the net, Lizzie jumped back and let the ball hit the ground. It rolled onto the graveled driveway and one of the younger children chased after it.

  The other team cheered.

  “Tied points,” Martin called from in front of the net. Facing Eli, the redheaded man smiled wide, but there was no malice in his expression. He was merely having fun.

  “I thought you would spike the ball, like you used to do,” Eli spoke low for Lizzie’s ears alone.

  “I...I didn’t see it soon enough,” she returned, sounding slightly irritated.

  Eli didn’t know if she was flustered by his presence, or if dropping the ball was her way of rejecting him. He couldn’t help thinking about what Jakob had said earlier. Did Lizzie still harbor resentment toward him for breaking off their engagement when he left all those years ago?

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked her while the other team readjusted their positions so they could serve the ball.

  “Of course, why?”

  Yes, he definitely caught a note of exasperation in her tone.

  He shrugged. “No reason, really. I just noticed that you seemed annoyed when I was speaking with Deacon Albrecht and now again.”

  Her slim jaw hardened. “You’re not a doctor, Eli. But I can see you gained plenty of Hochmut from going to college. You seem to think you know what is good for everyone.”

  So that was it. Like many of their people, she didn’t approve of higher learning. She thought he was too prideful.

  “I don’t think that at all. I only want to help, Lizzie-bee. That’s why I told Deacon Albrecht to go see a doctor as soon as possible...so he can get an accurate diagnosis,” he said.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, she turned away and focused on the game. She did an admirable job of ignoring him. No doubt she agreed with Marva Geingerich, that he would leave again. And how could he persuade her that he really wanted to stay in Riverton when he hadn’t yet convinced himself?

  They won the game, but Lizzie hurried off to help in the kitchen before a second match began. Karen Hostetler, who was Martin’s eighteen-year-old sister, and Ellen Yoder, the bishop’s daughter, both smiled prettily at him. In between serving the ball, they engaged Eli in conversation. He tried to show interest, but his gaze kept roaming over to the house where he sought some sight of Lizzie. After the second game ended, the teams broke up. Eli was glad. He had no interest in playing volleyball. At least, not without Lizzie.

  He didn’t see her again until it was time to drive her and the little girls home that evening. Though he wanted to head back before it got too late, he had to stay a little longer so he could attend the instruction class with the two others who were planning to be baptized in a few months. As Eli listened to the lesson from Bishop Yoder, he liked what he heard, but felt a bit nervous when he considered its importance. Once he was baptized into the Amish faith, his life would change forever. He would not take the vows unless he was absolutely confident that he intended to live them for the rest of his life.

  On their way home, Marty and Annie were eager to chat about their day. As the buggy moved along at a rapid pace, Lizzie sat quietly with her hands in her lap. Eli longed to talk with her about his class, to get her opinion on several issues, but whenever he tried to engage her in conversation, her response was rather abrupt. Finally, he gave up trying.

  As they pulled into the farmyard, dusk was settling over the western sky with clouds of pink, orange and gray. He looked up at the tall Sangre de Cristo Mountains and thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. He had just enough time to milk the cows and head home to his parents before it turned dark.

  “Danke for driving us safely,” little Annie said.

  “Ja, danke for keeping your promise,” Marty agreed.

  The girls both smiled and hugged him, but Lizzie simply nodded, then went inside the house.

  Watching her go, a feeling of melancholy blanketed Eli and he wondered what he could do to improve her opinion of him. It seemed that she’d lost all faith in him, and he couldn’t really blame her. But that’s when he made a promise to himself. No matter how long it took, he was determined to regain her trust. He just wasn’t certain how.

  Chapter Four

  By noon the following morning, Eli had almost finished raking the alfalfa. Dust sifted through the air as the two-horse hitch plodded along with the patience of Job. The tines connecting to the four horizontal bars of the side rake moved in a circular motion as they rolled the hay into straight, tidy windrows. The action also fluffed and turned the hay, so it would dry well before they baled it tomorrow. Eli was eager to get the hay in as quickly as possible. The unseasonable warmth wouldn’t hold much longer. He figured they had one or two more days before the clouds rolled in and brought rain to the valley.

  Glancing toward the farmhouse, he saw Lizzie outside hanging clothes on the line. They hadn’t spoken since church and he felt the tension between them reaching clear across the field.

  Annie was helping her older sister, lifting damp clothes out of the white laundry basket to hand over to Lizzie. Marty stood nearby, gathering seeds from the dried marigolds that had grown all summer long in the flowerbeds surrounding the house. Above the rattling noise of the hay rake, Eli could catch hints of the happy sound of their laughter.

  The rake gave a little bump and he turned to face forward, focusing on his work. When he finished twenty minutes later, he pulled the draft hor
ses to a halt, lifted the horizontal bars, then drove the Percherons toward the barn. Lizzie was no longer in the yard and he figured she’d gone into the house with the girls.

  He deposited the rake in the barn, then cared for the horses. After watering the Percherons, he checked each of their hooves, bodies and heads. If one of them picked up a stone or had a wound of some kind, they wouldn’t be much use in baling tomorrow morning. It’d take all six draft horses to pull the heavy baler and hay wagon.

  Satisfied the animals were in good condition, he turned them loose in the pasture. Before he went up to the house for some lunch, he entered the cool shadows of the barn. Removing his straw hat, he wiped his forehead on his shirtsleeve and sat on a tall stool.

  Another letter had arrived from Tom Caldwell, his old boss at the hospital in Denver. Pulling the short letter from the envelope, Eli read it one more time. Tom knew about Shannon’s death and understood that Eli had been badly shaken by the accident. Tom had encouraged him to take and break and go home for a visit. But now, Tom was shorthanded and badly needed qualified paramedics. In his letter, he’d offered Eli a raise if he would return to work by the end of October. Eli had already sent his regrets. He was not at all certain he’d ever return to Denver—but he definitely wouldn’t be going back that soon. After all, Jeremiah wouldn’t be healed enough to work by that time and Eli had given his word to the bishop that he would care for the farm until then.

  “Eli?”

  He jerked around, dropping the letter in the process. The paper wafted to the ground and he scooped it up, shoving it into his hat.

  “What’s that you’re reading?” Lizzie stood in front of the double doors, holding a tray with a plate of food and tall glass of milk. A shaft of sunlight glimmered behind her, highlighting her in beams of gold.

  “Nothing of consequence.”

  A flush of heat rose in his face. It was bad enough that his parents knew he was receiving letters and were worried his Englisch friends might draw him back to Denver. If only he didn’t feel so conflicted. Helping Deacon Albrecht yesterday had felt so good and familiar, but he couldn’t tell Lizzie that, nor his parents either. Not after what Marva Geingerich had said. They might judge him harshly. If only Shannon were here. She would advise him in that soft, understanding manner of hers. But if she were still alive, he would never have come home.