Read A Simple Hope: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel Online
Authors: Rosalind Lauer
“I’ve been having these terrible cramps,” Shandell said, squeezing her eyes shut, “and diarrhea. It’s been off and on for a few days now. Sometimes it feels like there’s a knife in my belly.”
Sympathetic, Rachel rubbed the girl’s back and stroked her dark hair gently. “My little sister Molly gets bellyaches a lot,” she commiserated. “And one thing Mamm gives her is black pepper. I’m going back to the Lapps and see if I can get a little bit for you. It’s a good natural remedy.”
Gliding on her scooter, Rachel rolled down the path through the orchard and thought about the sick Englisher girl. Rachel worried about her in so many ways. The more she learned about Shandell’s home, the more she cherished her own loving family. Rachel had not been surprised to learn that Shandell’s stepfather had a problem with alcohol. Although the Amish community did not condone drinking, everyone knew someone who had had too much to drink. Some Amish youth on rumspringa binged on beers—especially the boys. Rachel had never tried alcohol, but then she was one of those Plain girls who was content with her lot.
As she approached the main house, she bit her lips together. It would be a challenge, borrowing from an Amish kitchen. Fortunately, James’s sister Verena was the only one in sight when she got there.
“James is still out checking the orchard with Albee, but I’m wondering if you have something for a stomachache.” Rachel didn’t say whose stomach ached, and Verena didn’t ask.
“There’s black pepper in the pantry,” Verena said. “That’s what Mamm starts with when we’re sick. And honey helps, too. A little bit before eating. We don’t have any lemon, but pepper and honey will do you for now.”
“Denki.” Rachel went into the pantry and helped herself to two paper cups, one for each home remedy.
“Are you staying for supper tonight?” Verena asked as she checked on a bin of rising dough.
Sometimes Rachel stayed to supper with the Lapps after she and James returned from his treatment. It was easier to catch a ride home from one of James’s brothers after supper. “Not today. I have plenty of time to ride my scooter home during daylight.” The days were getting longer—praise Gott!—and the orchard was beginning to fill with fluffy blossoms. What a pleasure spring was!
Rachel smiled as she rode her scooter back to the sugar shack,
going out of her way so that she could pass the peach orchard, now in bloom. The fat blossoms filled the air with their sweet perfume, and the way they lined up so neatly reminded her of the frosting flowers on the edge of a wedding cake. She didn’t see James and Albee, but she knew they were out there, talking and looking for signs of pests and disease.
Just the thought of James brought a smile to her lips. He was doing so well, looking healthy as a plow horse. The extra sleep did him good, and the new therapy was building up the muscles in his arms and legs. And the treatment! Well, the time spent at the Paradise clinic had taken a lot out of James, but it was all worth it. The treatment was working!
She had just learned the exciting news a few days ago when she arrived early to pick James up. The receptionist at the clinic told her that James was still in the physical therapy center. She went into the big room and, lo and behold, he’d been standing there! Standing on his own, with just a walker nearby to help him balance.
It was a miracle—had to be!
“Praise be to Gott!” she’d gasped, catching his attention. The doctors and medical technicians all looked over at her, too.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Doc Finley asked. When she nodded, he explained that James was doing better than anyone anticipated. He had exceeded the progress of earlier patients in this study, but then his case was a bit different, with less damage to a different area of the spinal cord.
The medical explanation blurred in Rachel’s mind. She saw her James standing up, and seeing was believing!
“You’re staring like an Englisher tourist,” James said.
“I know and I don’t care. You’re standing on your own two feet, James.”
“I am. But it’s because of the treatment. Every day, I need the electric treatment to make it onto my feet.”
“It’s a start, James. A wonderful good beginning.” Unable to contain her grin, she moved closer to him and crossed her arms over her sweater. “And now we can start planning the wedding,” she whispered. She wouldn’t have said this in front of Plain folk, but she knew that the others weren’t close enough to hear. “You said you couldn’t marry me until you stood on your own two feet. Well, thanks to the Almighty and these doctors, you’re standing now.”
Wavering ever so slightly on his legs, James turned back to Rachel, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “I guess you’ve got me now.”
“I do.” Her smile couldn’t contain the joy shining in her heart. James was getting better. Gott had answered their prayers.
With a heart full of excitement, Rachel couldn’t wait to tell everyone, but as they rode home in the buggy, James had cautioned her to wait.
“I’m not walking yet,” he said. “If Dat hears that I’m standing, it would be just like him to cut off the rest of the treatment. We can’t let that happen.”
“Would your dat really do something like that?” She had always thought of Jimmy as a good, kind father.
“We can’t take that chance.”
She had agreed with James. It had been hard not to say something to Shandell when the three of them were together, but Rachel had kept her word.
Now, ironically, Shandell’s health was getting pokey as James was getting better.
When Rachel arrived back at the sugar shack, she was glad to see Shandell sitting outside on a chair facing the stream.
“Look at you! Out of bed. Are you feeling better?”
Shandell gave a little smile. “I think the fresh air helped.” Her face was still pale, but her skin had lost the sheen of sweat and fever.
“How are the cramps?” Rachel asked.
“Gone for now. But they’ve been coming and going over the past few days.”
“Well, I’ve got some home remedies that should help you feel better.” Rachel went inside to mix up some honey and pepper with warm water.
“Thanks, Rachel. Did anyone ever say that you’d make a good nurse?” Shandell called after her. “Oh, that’s right. You Amish finish school after eighth grade. Wow, that’s an educational plan that would have worked well for me. Except I’m not so good with the farm work. Fertilizer is not my friend.”
With an amused grin, Rachel handed over the cup. “You’re getting about as funny as James. Now drink this up, and I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I mean it.”
Rachel shrugged off the compliment, but as Shandell’s dark eyes held hers, there was no denying it: She was getting mighty attached to this dear girl.
T
he pear trees were thick with fat white buds on the verge of blooming as James wheeled himself over a mound of grass to get closer to the trees. On the lookout for leaf rollers, a type of caterpillar that liked to eat leaves and flowers, James reached up to grab a leafy branch. “I don’t see any caterpillars, but if we’re going to spray for them, we need to do it soon.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Albee said from across the grass divider. Hand atop his hat, he tipped his head back to examine the higher branches. “Got to make a decision, and I just wanted your advice.”
They did not spray pesticides when they weren’t needed, but then Albee knew that. James sensed that this was the new foreman’s attempt to gain his trust.
“No need to spray.”
“That’s what I thought.” Albee nodded. “Just wanted to be sure.”
True to his word, Albee and his wife had been quiet tenants in
the Doddy house, keeping to themselves and taking their meals on their own unless invited to the Lapp home. A few times Judy had come over to help Mamm with quilting, and they talked about canning and making jam later in the season. And it had been something of a relief not to be responsible for the orchard while his treatment took so much of his time. Still, James did not want to open up to this man. Albee was living proof that James’s injury was taking him away from the orchard he loved.
“Any day now, these buds are going to open up.” Albee’s voice held wonder and anticipation. “This is a very good time of year to work in an orchard.”
“My grandfather used to say that spring hadn’t sprung until the trees were in bloom.” Even as James answered, he saw the resemblance between his grandfather and Albee Miller. Was that why Dat had hired this man? Maybe he missed his father more than he let on. Jimmy and Elmo had not worked side by side the way Elmo and James had, but there had been a strong respect and affection between father and son.
As the two men continued inspecting the row of pear trees, James squinted into the light and imagined Albee to be his grandfather. Both men had that same spry step, that habit of tipping the head back and staring up at the tree branches and sky, as if the real hub of the wheel of life was somewhere up above.
Looking up to heaven?
James wondered.
Maybe they know something the rest of us still have to figure out
.
“Who is out there in the sugar shack?” Albee asked suddenly, taking James off guard. “I see you coming and going there every day, but there’s smoke coming from the chimney long after you’re gone, and I know a responsible young person like you wouldn’t leave a fire untended.”
James could not lie to this man. “It’s an Englisher who fell on some hard times. Rachel and I are helping her. But no one else
knows she’s out there, and I didn’t want to bother Jimmy with the details. Having Englishers around … it’s a sore spot with my father.”
“That’s your way of telling me to keep it to myself.” Albee stroked his gray beard, his soft eyes thoughtful. “When I took this job, I told your father I wouldn’t meddle in the family business, and I’m a man of my word.” He let out a breath. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen anyone loitering about there. Just as long as that fire is under control.”
“It’s under control,” James assured him.
“Then I guess we’re finished here, except for one more thing. I’ve been talking to your father about the upkeep of the orchard. It’s clear that he knows the business end well, but the trees? Not so much. He doesn’t understand how much work is done out here. He’s lucky to have you, James, with your knowledge and experience. You’ve done a good job holding this place together.”
The old man’s praise stirred up a maelstrom of emotion that rose in James’s throat and lodged there, a thick, salty knot. Such kind, welcome words. Words James had longed to hear from his father, not from this stranger.
James was glad that his eyes were shielded from Albee’s view by the wide brim of his hat.
Although the healing continued and James was now able to take a few steps on his own, he kept the news to himself. Rachel had found out his secret when she came into the clinic that day, and he figured she deserved to know. But spreading the word at home meant he would have to share with his father, and right now he could not face his father’s cutting comments and disapproval. If James showed how he could stand, Dat would be disappointed that he couldn’t walk. Show the man two steps, and Dat would wonder
why he couldn’t climb a tree yet. James told himself that Dat’s disapproval had more to do with the Englisher doctors than with James. He wanted to believe that. But in the light of day, it was clear that Dat was disappointed with his oldest son.
So James did his walking at the clinic and kept to the chair at home and in public. Knowing he could stand on his own, he was losing that feeling of being trapped. Now that he wasn’t stuck in the chair all the time, he didn’t mind it so much.
One day after church, when he’d been left off near a group of men his father’s age, he noticed how they seemed to forget he was there. Was it because he was quiet among them, or because they thought his brain had stopped working along with his legs?
Most of the people James’s age were eating at tables or going through the line for a sandwich or to spoon out some coleslaw, beets, or potato salad. Children were scattered here and there, some of them corralled by their mamms to come and eat. Having finished their church supper, the older men talked about the weather and the growing season. Now they were on the topic of Englisher doctors.