A Miracle of Hope (The Amish Wonders Series) (39 page)
“Lindie, please don’t wear yourself out.” Margaret grasped Lindie’s arm. “Esther is hardly ever wrong. It isn’t time for the
boppli
.”
Lindie continued breaking up the ground.
“You’re bound to have hard labor if you try to force contractions unnaturally. Especially since the
boppli
isn’t even in the right position.”
That wasn’t enough reason to stop. When Doctor Ethridge was concerned about her not gaining weight and possibly miscarrying, he said she needed to reach twenty-seven weeks and preferably to go past thirty. She was as thirty-two.
Horse hooves clip-clopped against the pavement in front of Margaret’s house. Lindie lifted her hand to shield the sun for a better look. She wasn’t familiar with the horse.
“That’s Mary Schrock’s buggy.”
Lindie groaned under her breath. She assumed Esther would probably spread the news, but she hadn’t expected Moses’s sister to be the first visitor. Had her former best friend come to rebuke her again?
Margaret waved at Mary. “She’s early. This is the day we go into town. I figured you would be sitting with Josiah or I would have mentioned it earlier. Did you want to
kumm
with us? I’m sure Eli would sit with Josiah.”
“
Nay
. I have to stay close by.”
“Will you tell her I’ll be right out? I need to get
mei
purse.”
“Okay.”
Hurry
. Lindie faked a smile. She had a few childhood friends she had looked forward to seeing on church Sunday—Mary wasn’t one of them.
Mary climbed out of her buggy. Her eyes widened and landed on Lindie’s midsection. “I heard you were—”
Pregnant? News travels fast
.
The door opened and Margaret skipped down the steps. “I just need another minute to close the vegetable stand and then we can go.”
“I’ll do it,” Lindie said quickly. Her sister-in-law’s stand this time of year wouldn’t require heavy lifting.
The back door closed hard and Hannah bounded off the steps, toting a picture in her hand.
Lindie welcomed the distraction and signed, asking to see the drawing. Once Hannah held up the picture, Lindie wished she had asked in private. The wooded path in the picture looked identical to the trail behind Eli’s house leading into the forest. Lindie’s hands trembled at the sight of where she had been attacked. She fumbled, signing to ask if Hannah had gone into the woods.
“This is Hannah,” Margaret explained. “Her
dead
is Josiah Plank . . . Lindie’s husband.”
Mary smiled. “Hello.”
“She’s deaf,” Margaret said.
Hannah ran toward the
grossdaadi haus
, the paper flopping in the breeze. “Maybe I’ll see you on Sunday, Mary,” Lindie said as she chased after Hannah. Although Lindie was grateful for a reason to avoid Mary, she didn’t want Hannah waking her father.
Too late.
Hannah stood at Josiah’s bed, signing something. Hannah was standing at an angle that made it hard for Lindie to see all the signals. She figured it had something to do with the picture, but as she stepped closer, she realized she was asking her father to believe.
“I pray, but you must believe,” Hannah signed. She placed her hand on her father’s chest and closed her eyes.
Lindie closed hers and prayed silently for his healing.
After a moment, Hannah turned to Lindie. “He’s sleeping.”
Lindie waved Hannah over to her and they tiptoed outside. At least Mary’s buggy was gone. She could gather Margaret’s stuff at the stand without being chased with questions.
Hannah walked with her to the roadside stand. Lindie pointed to the girl’s drawing. “Did you go into the woods around here?”
With shifting eyes, Hannah nodded.
She hadn’t meant to frighten the child. Still, after her brutal attack in those same woods, she shuddered at the thought of Hannah going off alone. Lindie pulled her into a hug.
The sound of crunching gravel drew Lindie’s attention. A car came to a stop a few feet from the stand, and a man wearing jeans low on his hips stepped out. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth as he strutted toward them. He didn’t look
like someone interested in buying rhubarb bulbs or seeds. He cast an eerie grin at Hannah.
Lindie’s insides quaked. The hairs on her arms stood on end. Mustering as forceful a tone as she could, she said, “The stand is closed.”
He continued toward them.
Lindie placed herself between the stranger and the child, then signed “run” behind her back. When Hannah didn’t leave immediately, she repeated the hand gesture. This time Hannah bolted toward the house.
“Cute kid.”
Don’t fight me
. . . Lindie’s stomach knotted. She spun around and sprinted a few feet before his hand clamped her arm and stopped her midstep. He was quick to smother her scream.
“So you do remember me.” He slammed her up against him. “I think we should go for a drive.”
She dug her heels into the ground but was overpowered.
“Go quietly or I’ll come back for the girl.” His stale tobacco breath brushed over her face. “I might anyway.”
Not again. God, please, not again
.
His crushing grip over her face blocked her airflow while his other hand landed heavily on her belly where it roamed freely.
She rammed her elbow into his ribs, causing him to suck air. Even if it meant him killing her, she wouldn’t let him take her. “Help me! Help—”
His hand closed off her mouth, this time with more force. Her chest tightened and she struggled to breathe. White spots filled her vision.
She lost her fight. He had her, was dragging her.
God, please
. . . A sharp pain tore through her abdomen followed by enormous pressure against her pelvis.
“Let her go!” Eli shouted.
In turning to face Eli, the man lost his grip over her mouth and she gasped, taking in a lungful of air.
Eli aimed the pitchfork at them. “Silos Slabach, let her go.”
Lindie didn’t have time to register his name before she was thrust forward. She lost her footing and, by the grace of God, dodged the prongs of the pitchfork. She pushed up to her knees just as a sharp pain stole her breath.
Eli had followed Silos with the pitchfork to his car. The car door slammed, the engine roared. Eli tossed the fork on the ground and rushed to her side as gravel shot out from under the tires and the car fishtailed away.
Eli reached for her arm. “Are you all right?”
“
Jah
,” she said through gritted teeth.
“That Silos is nothing but trouble.”
Silos Slabach
. He’d pounced on her so quick that day in the woods. While pinned to the ground and gagging on the
kapp
, she passed out before her mind registered knowing him.
No wonder he knew where I lived
.
“Lindie?” Josiah called in a frail voice from several feet away. His face grimaced as he ambled barefoot. His shirt was untucked and his suspenders hung loose around his pant legs.
“Go help him back to the
haus
, please,” she told Eli. Josiah was too sick to be out of bed and barefoot. The snow had only melted a few weeks ago. Josiah wouldn’t stop worrying unless she got up. Besides, she didn’t want to still be on the ground when the contractions returned.
Lindie overheard Josiah refusing Eli’s help, insisting he had to check on her. She pushed up to her feet. Her legs wobbled, but she found her balance.
“Josiah, you shouldn’t be out of bed.” He came alongside her.
“God has supplied me strength.” He reached his arm around her waist. “Hannah said something about a man with mean eyes and that you told her to run.”
“Jah.”
The cramps returned, this time with more intensity.
“Was that him?” he asked under his breath.
She spotted Eli bending down to pick up the pitchfork, then nodded to Josiah.
“He
kumm
to rob us,” Eli said, shaking his head. “After he jumped the fence to live in the world, he got mixed up with drugs. You would think he would
kumm
to his senses having spent time in jail, but he hasn’t even been out a year and he’s already living wild.”
“He needs to be locked up—forever,” Josiah said.
“
Jah
. We’ve had a few break-ins in the settlement recently. Probably stealing stuff to sell for drugs. Someone thought they recognized him, but since they weren’t certain, nothing was said to the authorities.”
Josiah leaned closer to her. “Eli should know.”
Eli’s brows crinkled. “Know what?”
Another contraction tore through her. She doubled over and blew out a few rapid breaths. Fluid trickled down her legs. “
Mei
water—broke.”
L
indie willed herself not to bear down en route to the hospital, but the contractions were regular and lasting longer. Seated in the backseat of George’s van and confined by the seat belt, she couldn’t get into a comfortable position. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and stung her eyes. Just the motion of the van nauseated her. She closed her eyes but that didn’t stop the acid from climbing to the back of her throat. Fortunately, the neighbor’s wife had volunteered to watch Hannah until Margaret returned from town. Still, she didn’t want Eli, Josiah, or George delivering her baby in the van.
“Ach!”
She gripped the arms of the seat, leaving her finger impressions in the vinyl material.
“Another one?” Josiah asked.
She squeaked, “
Jah
,” sucked in a breath, and held it until tiny white spots floated over her vision.
“You have to breathe.” Josiah pursed his lips and demonstrated how, but after two breaths, he became winded and stopped.
She tried, but the pressure was too great to concentrate. “I can’t do this.”
“
Jah
, you can.”
She puffed out several rapid breaths. The contraction subsided. She slumped against the seat, exhausted. It wasn’t long before another overcame her. Shifting in her seat, she clenched her teeth.
Not yet. Not in the van
.
Please, God
. . . She prayed for the contractions to stop.
They did.
Her breathing eased.
After several painless minutes, Josiah became antsy. “You should be having more contractions.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “They were regular up until a few minutes ago.” He reached across the bucket seats for her hand. “Your water broke, so it isn’t false labor.”
“Do you think something is wrong?” The moment she asked, she remembered Esther saying the baby wasn’t in the proper delivery position.
“Just rest. We’re almost there.” He squeezed her hand and released it, then leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes.
Traffic picked up the closer they came to the city. The hospital wasn’t far now. But she couldn’t rest. Visions of Silos Slabach invaded her mind. His dark eyes glared with evil intent, and a mixture of tobacco and alcohol coated his breath. She shifted on her seat.
Josiah stirred. “Another contraction?”
“Nay.”
She couldn’t trouble him with recollections of the attack. She closed her eyes. What Satan had meant for evil, God had made good.
God, please forgive me for
nett
wanting the
boppli
in the beginning. I was foolish to
nett
see that this was your will. I ask that you allow the stem cells to spare Josiah’s life. In Jesus’s name, amen
.
The van came to a stop under the awning of the emergency
room’s entrance. Eli jumped out of the front seat and hurried into the hospital. A moment later he returned with a nurse pushing a wheelchair.
“Is this your first baby?” the nurse asked.
“Yes.” Lindie lowered herself into the wheelchair, looked at Josiah, and gasped. He staggered out of the van, then struggled to walk beside her. “Josiah?”
“I’m all right.” He winced.
Entering the building, the nurse called out for another wheelchair. Despite his protests, Josiah was rushed into a curtained-off area opposite Lindie’s.
“My husband needs a stem-cell transplant. Doctor Cole is his doctor. Will you call him, please? Doctor Cole,” she repeated. “His office isn’t too far from here.”
“I’ll give the information to the emergency room physician.” The nurse disappeared.
Lindie wrung her hands, waiting for news. A few moments passed before the curtain parted, and the nurse entered along with a man in a white lab coat. “How is my husband?”
“He’s concerned about you,” she said.
A hard contraction stole Lindie’s breath. She puffed repeatedly, but it wasn’t easing the pain. “Is someone calling Doctor Cole?”
“Yes, someone will.” The nurse smiled.
“Your husband is in good hands,” the man said, introducing himself as the ER doctor. He asked if her water broke, then made a quick assessment. He glanced at the nurse. “Call for a transport.” He peeled off his gloves. “We’ll get you up to the labor and delivery floor shortly, Mrs. Plank.”
“Is the baby—” She gripped the handrails of the cot and bore down as pain like she’d never experienced shot through her.
“Try not to push. The baby isn’t in the right position yet.” He turned to the nurse. “Give her 50 milligrams of Demerol and start an IV.”
Her body relaxed after the injection, but her mind raced.
What happens when a baby is in the wrong position?
