Amish Country Box Set: Restless Hearts\The Doctor's Blessing\Courting Ruth (38 page)

“Better than these morons give me credit for. If I were home I’d be doing great.”

Speaking up, Amber said, “Harold, I’m sure they know what’s best for you.”

“Enough about me. How is my practice?”

“It’s busy,” Phillip said with a questioning look at her.

“And Amber is back to work as a nurse-midwife?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Mary Yutzi had a little girl last night. Seven pounds, three ounces and twenty inches long.”

“Wonderful. What did they name her?” He sounded truly relieved and happy.

“Anna.” Phillip answered.

Harold chuckled. “Nettie must be over the moon to finally get a granddaughter. Give Mary my congratulations.”

Amber perched on a chair by the desk and leaned toward the speaker. “I will. I’m going out to the farm tonight to check on her and Anna.”

Looking at Phillip, Amber nodded toward the phone. He closed his eyes and said, “We’ve been busy here.”

“You mean since the boycott ended.”

Phillip flinched. “Even before the boycott, I was amazed at the number of patients you see.”

Harold replied, “Of course we’re busy. There’s a shortage of rural doctors, or haven’t you heard that in Hawaii?”

“I’ve heard. I was simply wondering if you had considered taking on a partner?”

“Ha! Find me one who’ll work for peanuts, see patients without insurance and make visits to homes without electricity, and I’ll take him on. It has to be a man, though. No offense, Amber.”

She grinned. “None taken. I know Amish men won’t use female doctors.”

Phillip said, “Let me be clear. You are okay with me advertising for a new physician to work with you?”

There was a long silence on the phone. Amber finally asked, “Harold, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think about Phillip’s suggestion?”

“So the pair of you think I can’t do the job, anymore, is that it?”

“No!” they said in unison.

Phillip closed his eyes. “You aren’t a young man anymore. These people deserve to have your knowledge and skills passed on to someone who can help them far into the future. If you had died, what would have happened to them?”

“Don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind, but I’m not ready to hang up my stethoscope.”

“Phillip didn’t say that you were,” Amber replied, trying to be reasonable.

“All right. Go ahead and advertise. You won’t find anyone.”

Phillip winked at Amber. “Then you should do as your doctors tell you so you can get back here and get to work soon.”

“Everyone sends their love and prayers,” Amber added.

“Give them my thanks.” Harold’s tone held a pensive quality that troubled Amber. The line went dead before she could ask him what was wrong.

Phillip rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Do you remember the name of the resident who wanted to join this practice?”

“I still have his card somewhere.” What was it that Harold hadn’t said? Amber couldn’t get his tone out of her mind.

Springing to his feet, Phillip said, “Great. Maybe the guy is still interested in working here. I can’t believe Harold agreed. That was easy.”

Amber continued to stare at the phone. “I’m not so sure.”

Chapter Eighteen

P
hillip couldn’t believe how quickly the days were flying by. When he’d first agreed to spend two months in Ohio, it had seemed like a prison sentence. He couldn’t imagine being away from his beloved ocean for so long. Now he wished he had more time to spend with Amber.

They had done one more delivery together, a first baby for a non-Amish couple. In spite of Phillip’s worries, Amber conducted the whole experience so that both the young woman and her nervous husband had a happy and successful birthing experience.

As Amber and Hope Springs worked their way deeper into his heart, it became increasingly clear why Harold refused to give up medicine in this place. There was something so soothing and rich about the way these people lived.

He sat in his grandfather’s kitchen, absently tapping a pen on the table. He didn’t have to leave. He could be the man to work with his grandfather.

Tempting as the thought was, he knew it wouldn’t work. This wasn’t the kind of medicine he saw himself doing into his seventies. He imagined himself working in the finest modern medical center, diagnosing diseases and treating his patients with the best tools available.

Coming to Hope Springs had clarified one issue for him. It was the sick children that called to his soul. Sick children like little Helen Lapp with her bad heart. If anyone deserved the finest care, it was children like her.

Wilma was waiting for him when he reached the clinic. Not once since arriving in Hope Springs had he beaten the woman to the office. He wasn’t sure that she didn’t sleep there. She said, “The Lapp family is here as you requested.”

“Good, thank you. Please hold my calls.”

He had little Helen’s report from the cardiologist. He had asked for a family meeting to discuss it.

In his office, he found Mr. and Mrs. Lapp waiting for him. They looked like any other Amish couple he might pass on the street. She wore a dark blue dress and apron. On her head she wore a dark bonnet with a wide brim.

Her husband had on a dark suit and held his black felt hat in his hands. They could have been any Amish couple in Hope Springs except for the intense worry in their eyes.

Phillip sat behind his desk. “How is Helen?”

“Some better,” her mother answered.

“As I’m sure Dr. Yang discussed with you, Helen has a heart defect called an atrial septal defect.”

Her father nodded. “
Ja,
she will need surgery soon to fix her heart.”

“Yes. In studying her cardiologist’s report, I see that her disease is genetic in nature. Do you know what that means?”

They looked at each other and shook their heads.

“She has Ellis-van Creveld syndrome. That means your future children are at risk for the same type of dwarfism and heart defects.”

“But I have two fine sons,” Mr. Lapp insisted.

“I know. I merely wanted you to be aware of the risks for any other children. Your sons need to know that their children may have the same problems.”

“It was
Gottes Wille
that our daughter was born this way. We accept that.” Mrs. Lapp spoke at last. She sat with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her knuckles white with tension.

Her husband nodded. “If He sends us more children like Helen, we will accept that, too.”

Phillip sat back in his chair. “We have no way to cure Helen. Surgery isn’t a complete fix. Any colds or coughs can quickly turn serious for her, so please don’t hesitate to come see me if she becomes ill again.”

“Danki, Doktor.”
Rising, Mr. Lapp nodded, then walked out the door. His wife hung back.

Looking at Phillip, she asked, “What can be done so that my sons don’t have such children?”

“They can be tested for the defective gene. If they don’t carry it, their children will not have Helen’s disease.”

She took a step closer. “And if they do carry it?”

“In that case, the way to prevent them from having a child with her defect would be to screen the women they wish to marry to see if they carry the gene.”

“If they both have this gene?”

Sighing deeply, he said, “Their children will have a one in four chance of having Ellis-van Creveld syndrome.”

“So God decides?”

“Yes. I’m not an expert on this disease, Mrs. Lapp. If you’d like, I can make an appointment for you to see a genetic specialist.”

“No.” She left his office and caught up with her husband waiting outside.

Phillip watched them leave and knew they both carried heavy hearts. The specialist believed Helen had only a fifty-fifty chance of reaching adulthood. Phillip prayed God would give them the strength and comfort they needed to deal with such devastating news.

Turning back to his desk, he stared at the books in his grandfather’s case. Pulling down one with numerous bits of paper sticking out, he read the title.
Noted Patterns of Human Malformation.

Leafing though the pages of the text, Phillip saw Harold had made dozens of comments in the margins, mostly dates and occasional names.

“Are you looking for something special?”

He turned at the sound of Amber’s voice. She was standing in the doorway. She had on her usual pale blue scrubs and white lab coat. He heard Wilma call out a question to her. Turning around, she stepped into the hall to answer. When she did, he saw that her hair hung to her hips in a shimmering honey-colored curtain. The sight robbed him of breath.

When she turned back to face him, he closed his mouth and asked, “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were looking for something special?”

He focused his gaze on the books. “I was looking for some texts on genetics.”

She joined him by the bookcase and reached for a book on the upper shelf. “I’m not sure what Harold has in here. He never alphabetizes anything.”

The clean citrus fragrance of her hair slipped around him like a soft Hawaiian breeze. He leaned back to scope her hair out again.

Yep. Every bit as glorious up close.

She should have flowers in it, the way the island women wore them. It was easy to picture her walking beside him on the beach, her hair flowing in the wind. He itched to feel its softness. To let it glide though his fingers.

Suddenly, she whipped her head around to stare at him. “What?”

He took a step back and crossed his arms. “Nothing.”

“You were staring at me.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Even to his own ears he sounded like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

She arched one brow. Her look said she wasn’t buying it.

“Okay, I was admiring your hair, that’s all.”

Grasping a lock in her hand, she frowned at it. “When I left the house this morning it wasn’t dry so I had to leave it down. I’ll put it up before I see patients.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s very lovely.”

Her cheeks took on a rosy hue. “Thank you.”

He couldn’t help himself. Reaching out, he brushed a strand from her shoulder in a soft caress.

* * *

Amber sucked in a quick breath at his touch. Her hair
had
been damp when she left the house, but she could have put it up after she arrived. She never wore it down. It was always confined in a braid or bun. Today had been different. For some inexplicable reason, she wanted Phillip to see it down.

Now she realized she was being vain. Taking a step away from him, she swept it into a rope and began coiling it. “My mother never cut her hair. She called it a hangover from her Amish life. I adopted the habit.”

“You don’t have to put it up.” He sounded sorry to see her do so.

“It’s dry now.”

“Have you ever cut it?”

Continuing to wind, she said, “It gets trimmed. It pleases mother and my grandmother that I keep it long.”

Pulling several large hairpins from her pocket, she slipped them in and patted the roll. “There. Good to go.”

“You should wear it down more often. It’s beautiful.”

He did like it. A thrill of happiness made her smile.

“Amber, have you ever thought of working somewhere else?”

“Like where?”

“Hawaii, for one place.” A question hovered in his eyes, a hope that secretly pleased her. She had thought about seeing his island home, but she wasn’t ready to admit that.

She turned back to the bookcase. “I sunburn too easily. Genetics, you say? I don’t see anything but what you’re holding. You can always use the computer to look something up. I know our dial-up can be slow and frustrating.”

“I’ll drive to Millersburg after work and do some research at their medical library. I need to check on Martha, anyway. Are any of your patients in labor?”

“Not a one.”

He opened the book and held it out to her. “Do these dates and names mean anything to you?”

She studied the textbook for a few minutes. “I’m not sure.” Pointing, she said, “This could be the Zook boy who died two years ago. He had some developmental difficulties from birth.”

“What kind of difficulties?”

“I’m not sure.”

“He wasn’t one of your patients?”

She shook her head. “No, he was born in the hospital in Millersburg. They were visiting family there when she went into premature labor. He never left the hospital.”

Turning to a new page, he asked, “What about this one?”

Checking, she shook her head. “Before my time.”

“It says Knepp. Could it be one of Sophie Knepp’s girls?”

“It could be. We have a lot of Knepps in this state.”

He carried the book back to his desk and sat down. It was clear he was deep in thought.

“Your next patient is in room one,” she reminded him.

“Fine. Thank you. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She started to leave but he suddenly spoke again. “Do me
a favor, will you? Ask Wilma to get some old charts from storage.”

“Sure. Which ones?”

“The one for this Zook boy, and see if she can find a Knepp with this birth date.” He scribbled it down and handed her the note.

“It may take a few days. We store our closed charts out of state.”

“Tell her to get them as soon as she can.”

Throughout the rest of the morning, Phillip remained distracted. He was always attentive to his patients, but in between clients he shut himself in the office.

At noon, Amber stuck her head in to see if he wanted to get some lunch. He didn’t, and she went away feeling more disappointed than she should have.

When they closed up that evening, she watched him walk across the parking lot and turn the corner.

“You’ll have to get used to that,” Wilma said as she came to stand beside Amber.

“Get used to what?”

“Him being gone.”

“I know he’s leaving soon.” It was hard to imagine this place without him. He’d become so much a part of her life. Pushing open the door, she walked to her car and drove home feeling more depressed than she had since she’d first learned of Harold’s accident.

At home, Fluffy was waiting eagerly for his food bowl to be filled. Amber obliged the cat then made herself a light supper. She spent the rest of the evening catching up on her midwife journal, reading and trying not to think about Phillip. Or how much she would miss him when he went away.