Change of Heart (6 page)

He opened the door and rushed to her. In seconds, he assessed the situation. “Let me try reviving the infant.”

She passed him the newborn. “I've tried everything.” She checked Naomi. The bleeding had stopped. She applied sutures.

Matt worked with the boppli, but she didn't respond to his ministrations.

Naomi sobbed. “Dr. Carrington, please do not let my baby die.”

Matt's face turned somber as he cradled the motionless boppli. “I am sorry. Becca and I have done everything we can to save her, but your daughter did not make it. There is nothing more we can do. Would you like to hold her?”

Naomi wept and held out her arms.

Becca accepted the dead boppli from him, wrapped her little body in a soft blanket, and then tenderly placed the infant in Naomi's arms as her own tears dripped onto her cheeks. She smoothed Naomi's damp matted hair while the bereft young mamm held her dead boppli girl. Her heart broke, witnessing the woman's pain.

Matt moved next to Naomi. “I am sorry for your loss. If you need me, please send your grandfather to my office. I will come to you. I will step out now so Becca can help you change.”

Naomi caressed her boppli's cheek as tears streamed down her own cheeks.

Matt left and closed the door behind him.

Becca cleaned and helped her change into a fresh gown as the new mamm moved the boppli from one arm to the other. Becca offered to hold the boppli while Naomi changed, but she wouldn't let go of her daughter. Becca couldn't blame her. What a shock to find out her boppli had died. She couldn't imagine experiencing Naomi's pain. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

Naomi grabbed Becca's hand. “Please visit me tomorrow. I don't have another woman to talk to about my problems. Would you mind coming back here tomorrow evening?”

Becca smoothed the sorrowful woman's matted dark brown hair. “I will be here at six.” Becca cleaned up her mess and discarded the bloody rags in a flour sack. She stepped out of the room then handed it to Mr. White to throw away. She gathered her other things and stood by Matt's side.

Matt shook his hand. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

“I appreciate you both coming here today and helping us. Thank you both.”

Becca left with Matt and climbed in his buggy. “Thank you for coming. My heart goes out to Naomi. Do you know her well?”

“Naomi White is sixteen. When she was fourteen, her parents died in a house fire in Canton, Ohio. She came here to live with her grandparents right after her parents' deaths.” He clucked at the horse and drew a breath. “A year ago, Naomi's grandfather hired a carpenter, Samuel Keller, to help him build an addition to his house. Naomi fell in love with the young workman and got pregnant. When she told Samuel about the baby, he left town.”

Becca's mouth opened. “My heart aches for her. She is mourning the loss of the man she loves and her boppli.”

“At least she has her grandfather. He is sixty-two and in good health. He is a fine man.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What happened to the grandmother?”

“She died of a heart attack six months ago. She was a kind woman. I am sure Mr. White and Naomi miss her.”

“I'll include them in my prayers tonight before bed.” She glanced at Matt. He had come to her rescue again. She found comfort having him by her side in such a sad situation. He had shown compassion and had not passed judgment on the unwed mamm. She admired him for that.

They approached the Massillon Restaurant.

She yawned and stretched her arms. “I hope you told your mamm and her friend why we weren't able to join them for dinner.”

Matt stopped in front of the livery. “When I found your note, I did stop by the Massillon Restaurant and told Mother why we would not be joining them. She understood. My father is a surgeon. She is used to patients' needs taking priority over dinners and parties.” He steered his horse toward the livery. “Mother and her friend would have headed home by now. I am going to take you to dine there anyway before I take you home.”

“I'm starving. It sounds good to me.”

He stopped and handed the reins to the liveryman, and they walked to the restaurant.

“You haven't told me much about your parents. Tell me more about them.”

The waitress delivered their food and a basket of warm bread.

Matt lathered butter on a slice of bread. “My father and I are close. In spite of being a busy surgeon, he found time to take me fishing and target shooting. I asked a lot of questions concerning his work as I grew older, and he answered each one in a way I could understand. His patience in explaining why he had to do different types of surgeries for his patients generated an interest in me to become a doctor.”

“Are you close to your mamm?”

Matt wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I love my mother. She bought me the finest clothes, read me stories before bed, and took me to dinner in town at least twice a week. She taught me proper manners from the time I was a child. She is too caught up in what she considers appropriate dress and behavior, though. Acceptance in high society is of primary importance to her. She is prejudiced against people who do not live up to her social standards. We have argued about this subject many times.”

Ruth had also told her Mrs. Carrington looked down on people not up to her social standards. When she met her, Mrs. Carrington lived up to what she had heard about her. It explained her cold attitude toward her. Ruth was right. Mrs. Carrington might be a problem. She certainly didn't fit into Mrs. Carrington's social circle. “She didn't appear to approve of me as your nurse.”

He sighed. “I have not visited my parents for a few weeks. It is unusual for me not to do so. She was upset with me and in a bad mood. Do not take it personally.” He covered her hand with his. “I told her you were more than my nurse. I told her we are courting.”

Becca stopped chewing. She stared at Matt for a moment then swallowed. “What did she say?”

Matt shrugged and glanced away. “She was stunned. She does not understand Amish culture. She will be fine once she gets to know you. I will arrange a time for you and me to have dinner with my parents sometime soon.”

Umm. She doubted Mrs. Carrington had anything nice to say regarding her after the way she treated her when they first met. She hoped the woman would like her when they had a chance to finally sit and chat. With what she had been told about Mrs. Carrington so far, she doubted it.

She pushed Mrs. Carrington out of her mind and listened to Matt talk about the patients they had treated in the last two days. They finished their meal, and he delivered her to Ruth's house. He kissed her good-bye, and her heart raced. Her life had changed for the better. The decision to leave her Amish life overwhelmed her at first, but after spending time with Ruth and meeting Matt, she had no doubt she had done the right thing. Yes, she looked forward to her future in Massillon.

Matt went home and guided his horse into the barn. His mother's buggy was inside. What was she doing here?

His mother was in the sitting room, sipping tea. “It is time you came home. Where have you been?”

“I had no idea you would be here. I told you Becca and I went to help a young woman birth her baby. It took longer than I expected. The baby died. We stayed to comfort the family as much as we could. After we were finished, I escorted Becca to the Massillon Restaurant for supper before I dropped her off at Ruth's.” He placed his bag on the floor and sat. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“I am sorry the young woman suffered such a horrible loss.” She placed her teacup on the small table beside her. “To answer your question, supper was disappointing since you did not join Beatrice and me, but I understand you were busy. I dropped her off at my house and then came here. I need to get back to her. I stopped by to tell you Beatrice has agreed to stay over another day and night. I expect you to join us for supper tomorrow at six at the Massillon Restaurant.”

Matt rubbed his chin. “I am not interested in dining with you and Beatrice alone. Becca has promised to visit the young woman who lost her baby tomorrow night. She won't be able to join us.”

Mrs. Carrington's face reddened. “You are being rude. Beatrice and her parents are friends of mine and your father's. I expect you to dine with us. Do not be late.”

He opened his mouth to protest. She hurried to leave and shut the door behind her before he could say anything. He groaned. His mother was the pushiest woman he had ever met. To keep the peace, he would go and be nice since the Bloomingdales were friends of his parents. He wished Becca could join them, but it would not be fair to ask her to change her plans for him. Naomi White needed her. Maybe it was for the best. He did not know Beatrice. She might be as brash as his mother.

Chapter Five

Becca couldn't sleep. Heavy raindrops pelted the roof and ground outside. Thunder boomed, and then lightning bolts lit up the dark night. She shuddered and tightened her grip on the mug. The candle on the kitchen table flickered and offered little light in the dim room. Matt's words about his mamm flooded her mind. She tossed and turned.

Mrs. Carrington was like no other woman she had ever come across. The woman's stern tone set her teeth on edge. She had to stop fretting about what Mrs. Carrington thought of her and pray for guidance on what to say when they met again.

The next morning, she climbed out of bed and dressed. Becca headed to the kitchen and told Ruth she had met Naomi White. She recounted the story of delivering the young woman's boppli. She explained the infant's daed had left town upon learning Naomi was carrying his child. “I'm going to her house tonight to listen to her woes.”

Ruth pressed a palm to her heart. “What a tragic story. She is young to have suffered such pain in her life already.”

Becca and Ruth finished their coffee and left for work. When Becca entered the office, she put her reticule in a drawer and lifted her white nurse's apron Ruth had made for her. She told Dorothy about meeting Naomi White.

Dorothy patted Becca's shoulder. “It is nice of you to spend time with her.”

Becca kissed Dorothy on the cheek and picked up a biscuit before following Matt to the exam room.

Matt draped a stethoscope around his neck. “Good morning. I have news. Mother was at my house last night when I got home. Her friend is staying another day, and Mother insists I join them for supper. I wish you could join us too. I dread going without you.”

Becca placed a clean sheet on the exam table. Why would Miss Bloomingdale stay over another day to meet Matt? She didn't want to sound jealous, but she wanted to know more about this woman. “If I hadn't promised to meet with Naomi tonight, I would join you. What do you know about your mamm's friend?”

“I will miss you, but Naomi needs you. I am glad you are going to comfort her. Beatrice Bloomingdale is a young woman from Canton, Ohio. Her father is a surgeon, and my parents and hers have become friends. Our fathers met at a surgeons' research meeting in Canton a couple of months ago. If Mother is playing matchmaker, you have nothing to worry about.”

Becca's cheeks heated. “I trust you.” She checked the drawers to make sure they were filled with the appropriate supplies. Miss Bloomingdale must be the perfect fit for Matt, according to Mrs. Carrington, or why would she introduce her to him? What if Matt found Miss Bloomingdale more interesting than herself? She had to stop her mind from going there.

She worked alongside Matt to treat patients with a range of injuries and illnesses nonstop until the last patient left at five-fifteen.

Matt yawned. “The last thing I want to do is go to supper with my mother and Miss Bloomingdale.” He put his hands on Becca's shoulders and kissed her. “I would rather you and I were spending the evening together.”

Her heart soared. Again he said all the right things. She believed him. On the other hand, Mrs. Carrington caused her concern.

She bid him farewell and headed home. Ruth was in the kitchen mixing ingredients for butter cookies. A touch of flour coated her hair. “I have one batch made, and I have started on the second. Could you put the first batch in the basket on the table?”

“Yes, I'd be glad too.” She recounted her concerns to Ruth about Mrs. Carrington and Miss Bloomingdale.

“Matt is having dinner with his mother and this woman because he is a gentleman. Do not give Miss Bloomingdale another thought.”

Becca scooped the cookies from the pan and put them in the basket. “I'm not worried about Matt and Miss Bloomingdale. I'm worried Matt's mamm will continue to play matchmaker for him.”

“I suspect Matt will bring your name up more than once this evening. I have no doubt he will make it clear to both of them he is courting you.” She winked.

Becca chuckled. She hadn't thought of Matt discussing her at supper. She liked the idea. She felt better already as she bid Ruth good-bye and headed for Naomi's house. She walked and enjoyed the warm night air. She arrived and rapped on the door.

Pale and with dark circles under her eyes, Naomi waved her in. “I am glad you are here. I have had a difficult day. I named my daughter Isabella. My grandfather and I buried her this morning.” She wiped a tear. “My body is healing, but I am not sure my heart ever will.”

She followed Naomi to the parlor and sat next to her. “I have not experienced the loss of a child. I can't imagine what you must be going through.”

Naomi frowned. “I cannot stay in this town another day. Our neighbors stare at me like I am evil because I was pregnant and unwed. They are not the least bit sympathetic about Isabella's death.”

Becca pulled her chair close to Naomi. “I'm sorry you're experiencing such cruel behavior from your neighbors. Ruth and I are always willing to listen to you, and you can visit us anytime.”

“I appreciate how you and Dr. Carrington helped me when you delivered Isabella. You are the only woman who has offered to spend time with me.”

“You can trust me. Please share whatever you like.”

Naomi pulled a letter from her sleeve and unfolded it. She handed it to Becca. She recounted the story of how she met Samuel and why he left. “In the letter, Samuel asks me to forgive him for leaving. He wants to marry me and says he is ready to be a father.”

She handed the letter back without reading it. “What do you want to do?”

“I am not sure. Can I trust him? He left when I needed him most.”

She covered Naomi's hand. “I don't know Samuel, so I'm not sure what advice I can offer. Perhaps he needed time to get used to the idea of being a daed. When you told him, he must've been overwhelmed.”

Naomi put the letter in her sleeve. “He is seventeen, and we had planned to court for a longer period. He most likely was overwhelmed when I told him I was pregnant. I believe he is truly sorry. He told his boss about me and the baby, and the farmer offered Samuel a house on his property to live in as part of his wages. The house has a small second bedroom, and it would have been perfect for our daughter.”

“The house sounds nice.” She rubbed Naomi's arm. “Do you love Samuel?”

“I do love him, and I forgive him. We all make mistakes. My grandfather liked Samuel and was disappointed in him when he left. He will support me in whatever I decide. He always has.”

“You're fortunate to have such a loving grandfather. You do what will make you happy.”

Naomi's eyes widened and the sadness softened. “Discussing my love for Samuel with you has made me realize how much I miss him. I will not be content until I am with him again.” She clasped her hands. “I am going to leave the day after tomorrow and tell him I will marry him.”

Becca put her hand to Naomi's cheek. “You need to wait a week and rest before you go.”

“I will be fine. My body is doing better than my dark mood, and reuniting with Samuel will lift my spirits. He is excited about the baby. I dread telling him she died. At least we will be able to mourn her passing together.”

She chatted with Naomi for an hour and left. Matt's face came to mind as she walked home. Would Matt mention her name while dining with his mamm and Beatrice Bloomingdale? How would his mamm respond?

 

 

Matt slapped cologne on his face and neck. He reconsidered, grabbed a towel, and wiped it off. The forced supper with Beatrice and his mother exasperated him. His mother put him in situations he loathed, and he planned to put a stop to it.

Mother should show her softer side more often. He was sure she did with his father, or how could the man stand to put up with her day in and day out. No wonder his father traveled so often. His parents' marriage was not like the one he wanted. He wanted a wife he would enjoy spending time with, namely Becca.

He went to the barn to ready his horse and left. After he delivered his horse to the livery, he strolled to the Massillon Restaurant. He paused in the doorway. His mother and the woman she was with sat a few feet away from where he stood and whispered something. A moment later, they laughed. He shook his head and headed for their table.

His mother glanced at him. “Son, you are late.” She sighed and touched Beatrice's arm. “Well, never mind. Sit.”

He ignored his mother's subtle rebuke and held out his hand to her guest. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting. It is a pleasure to meet you again. I apologize for having to rush off after meeting you last evening.”

“I am delighted to see you again. Your mother has told me about your practice and what a charming man you are. I am looking forward to getting to know you while we dine.”

He sat. Spending a lot of time with her was not something he intended to do. He would not engage her in much conversation while they dined, nor would he linger after supper. Her expensive dress flattered her small frame, and her brown hair in ringlet curls outlined her delicate heart-shaped face.
Attractive yes,
but her mannerisms reminded him too much of his mother. It was the way she moved and tilted her head to one side when she talked. He struggled not to wince when she prattled on in her high-pitched voice.

She put her hand on his upper arm. “Your mother is quite proud of you. She has sung your praises every time we have run into each other in the last few months. I had to come and see for myself if you were as handsome and interesting as she claims you are.” She eyed him from head to toe. “I must agree with her. You are every bit as handsome as she claims.”

He wanted to shrug her arm off but did not. Her facetious words sickened him.

A waitress served them water and then penciled their orders. Miss Bloomingdale spread her napkin on her lap. “Your mother told me you hired an Amish woman to help you in your office. I see the Amish as plain and simple people. You are kind to take pity on her and offer her a job.”

He fisted his hands in his lap. Why did his mother share her concerns about Becca with Miss Bloomingdale? She must have thought the woman would help plead her case against Becca. His mother was wrong. Nonetheless, Miss Bloomingdale did not mince words. She got right to the point.

He would too. “On the contrary, Miss Bloomingdale, I did not hire her out of pity. Miss Yost is intelligent and an excellent nurse. Furthermore, she is someone I have taken a personal interest in.”

His mother frowned. “Beatrice, he will not listen to me. Talk some sense into him.”

“I do have to agree with your mother. You have built a practice where your patients trust you, and having an Amish woman for a nurse cannot be comfortable for them. Nor would she be a suitable woman for you to court, considering your social standing.”

The waitress delivered their food.

He dipped his spoon in his potato soup. “My patients are fond of Becca, and my social standing is none of your concern.”

Miss Bloomingdale's cheeks flamed.

His mother raised her voice. “Mind your manners. Beatrice is only offering her advice.”

Beatrice cleared her throat. “Please forgive me. We can talk about something else.”

His mother put her hand on Beatrice's arm. “We should talk about you, dear.” She sat back. “Beatrice is a great hostess. She has been hired by most of our friends to plan and organize many parties to help raise money for school books. It has been a pleasure working with her. She is quite the world traveler, too.”

Beatrice waved a dismissive hand. “You flatter me.”

Matt closed his eyes for a moment. Miss Bloomingdale's insincere apology sickened him. She had made it clear by her aggressive actions and words she thought she was the woman for him. She was in for quite a disappointment, because he had no intention of spending any more time with her after they dined. This woman was forward and tiresome.

His mother lifted her chin. “Go on, Beatrice. Tell Matt about your trip to Washington, DC, and meeting the President and First Lady, Ida Saxton McKinley.”

Miss Bloomingdale bragged about the money her father donated to Washington to help build schools there. Then she gave a detailed description of her tour of the White House as she presented a picture of President William McKinley and the First Lady.

Matt did not ask any questions as she prattled on. A little over half an hour had passed, when the woman yawned. He suggested they leave and bid the two women farewell. After retrieving his horse from the livery, he headed home. His polite but distant behavior toward Miss Bloomingdale was meant to discourage his mother from any further attempts to play matchmaker. His mother had found her younger twin in Beatrice Bloomingdale. Would his mother honor his request to stop trying to set him up? He doubted it.

 

 

The next morning, Matt sat in the reception area across from Dorothy and bit into a piece of rhubarb pie and sipped hot tea. “This hits the spot. I got up late and skipped breakfast.”

Dorothy refreshed his cup. “I am glad to see you chipper. After meeting your mother and her friend last night, I suspected you would be in a bad mood today.”

“She is stubborn. Even after I told her Becca had agreed to court me, she tried to match Miss Bloomingdale and me. I made it clear to both of them I am not interested in courting anyone but Becca.”

Becca entered and joined them. “The sky is gray, and the rain is steady.” She placed her dripping parasol in the corner of the room and hung her damp shawl on a coat hook.

Dorothy passed her hot coffee and a plate of warm blueberry bread. “Matt is telling me about his dining experience with his mother last night.”