A Simple Faith: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (29 page)

“This thing is a loaner,” he said, bringing her back to the conversation. “James Lapp needed a way to get around.”

Haley smoothed one hand over the gleaming dashboard. “Someone keeps their van in good shape.” Her eyes flicked over to a sticker in the corner of the window. HERTZ. What? He had rented the van.

“Oh, I get it,” she said. “Your friend Hertz likes to keep his van clean.”

“What are you, a detective?”

“I have eyes, Dr. Monroe.”

“Okay, you caught me. But I got a great rate for a monthly rental, and you and I know the Lapp family is already into the hospital for nearly twenty grand. They needed a little help, and I was in a position to give it. But I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention anything to the family.”

“It’s very generous of you. I mean, you’re really going out of your way for a family you didn’t even know two months ago.”

“Don’t be so quick to put me on a pedestal, because I’m getting something out of it, too. It’s my opportunity to become involved with the Amish community.”

“I won’t say a word.” His modesty and kindness struck a chord deep inside her. Every time she was with Dylan, she liked him more. Actually, “like” was a lame word for the emotions coursing through her. Somewhere along the way she had fallen in love with him. She knew he cared for her, too, but she could tell that he was holding back, and she wasn’t sure why.

She stared ahead at the gray buggy they were approaching and ran her hand along the seat belt. “I’m a little nervous about this.” Today was her first physical therapy session with James Lapp, and she was a little worried about what to expect. “How is James doing?” she asked. “Any better? The last time I visited him in the rehab center with Rachel, he was withdrawn and uncommunicative.”

“I’d say his mental state is about the same. As the oldest son, James is expecting to take over the family farm, which is really a series of orchards. I’ve heard that many of the apples, peaches, and cherries in this area come from the Lapp farm. Anyway, James feels the pressure to get back on his feet and back to work. The Amish aren’t materialistic people, but I think he feels as if he’s losing everything he’s spent his life working for.”

“And there’s still no word from the doctors whether he will be
able to walk again.” It wasn’t really a question; as part of his physical therapy team, Haley had been fully updated on his medical condition.

“He’s struggling with that,” Dylan said. “I think he would be more accepting if the doctors told him it was physically impossible. But as it is, I see James trying to push himself to make it happen, and so far, it’s not working. Add to that the advice of Bishop Samuel, who keeps telling James to accept his handicap as God’s will.”

One of the fields they passed had rows of bare trees—apple or peach? She wasn’t sure. The narrow lanes between trees seemed to open and close quickly as they passed.

Dylan’s hands slid easily over the steering wheel. Blue jeans and flannel really suited him, she thought. In that getup, she could imagine him out chopping wood, roping a calf, or snuggling by the fire.

Whoa, girl
. That fantasy was going way too far.

She let her hand glide over the edge of her seat belt, floating back down to the seat. “Thanks for making this whole thing happen.”

“I’m glad you were interested. The other nursing students weren’t exactly chomping at the bit to get the position.”

Haley held back a grin as she turned toward the window. The other nursing students had been chomping at the bit to work side by side with Dr. Dreamy, but when they had heard the words “Amish” and “farm,” the allure had fizzled.

Dylan had gone to Dr. Swanson requesting a nursing student to work with him in a home healthcare capacity, and once she heard about the situation with James Lapp, Swanson rattled some cages to make the program come together quickly. Most of the nursing students rolled their eyes at the prospect of patient care at an Amish farm, but Haley had a personal tie to James, albeit slight, and somehow
every time she worked with someone who had been in the accident, it lightened the trauma in her mind.

Another mile or so down the road, Dylan turned down the lane to a two-story house set away from a barn with two silos and a cluster of smaller buildings.

The Lapp farm.

The house was tidy from the outside, but certainly plain, painted white with no shutters. Smoke rose from the chimney, and the front door opened as soon as Dylan parked beside a gray horseless buggy.

“You met James’s mother, Edna?” he asked.

“Briefly. She’s the person who will oversee his PT.”

With that, he was out of the car, calling a greeting to Edna and introducing Haley.

The Amish woman with tawny brown hair and a wriggly scar on her chin welcomed Haley and directed them both into the back room, where James sat in his wheelchair.

“I brought you someone new,” Dylan announced. “And she comes with her own brand of torture called physical therapy.”

Haley bumped Dylan on the shoulder, trying to keep things playful. “That’s no way to introduce me. Really, James, I’m here to help.”

James nodded, his face expressionless but his gaze lifting to her face.

Haley sat on the neatly made bed so that she could be level with James. “I’m not a licensed physical therapist, but I know you were drilled on your exercises in the hospital.”

“That’s right,” Edna chimed in from the doorway. “And they taught me the routine, too.”

“Perfect. So that will make my job really easy. I’ll mostly be watching to make sure you’re doing the exercises properly, and over the next few weeks we may introduce some more challenging things once you master your routine.”

James rubbed his clean-shaven chin with the knuckles of one hand. “More challenging. Like walking?”

“Don’t go putting the cart before the horse,” Edna warned her son.

Haley threw up her hands. “Who knows? That would be great, wouldn’t it?”

James’s expression was flat as he bounced his fists on his thighs. “Did they tell you I have some feeling in my legs?”

“So I’ve been told,” Haley said. “But we’re not going to work on walking so soon. As I understand it, there’s still some healing going on in your spine. We don’t want to jeopardize that. Now, I see you’re dressed and you’ve made the transfer from the bed to the wheelchair. Did you do that alone?”

“He did it all,” Edna said. “He probably would have cooked his own eggs if he knew how.”

“Wow. They told me you were a hard worker in occupational therapy. Looks like you’re going to make my job really easy.”

Although Haley’s praise did nothing to melt the wall of indifference surrounding James, she maintained a positive attitude as she directed him to start his daily exercises. Technically, Haley’s task wasn’t difficult, and Edna and Verena, James’s sister, were attentive students. It was James who concerned her. Despite the many little jokes she added or stories she told about herself, James’s demeanor remained flat. When she asked questions, his answers were terse, though never impolite.

As the exercises were winding down, she glanced over at Dylan, who had been standing off to the side, observing and occasionally joining in the conversation. She wondered if he had used guided imagery with James, but there was no way she could ask here in the Lapp home. Besides, maybe that therapy didn’t work with everyone. Maybe it didn’t work with depression, which was what James seemed to be suffering.

As she finished, Edna and Verena summoned her to the main room to have a hot drink while Dr. Monroe worked with James.

The baking smells made the kitchen cozy, but the desperate plea in James’s eyes haunted her as she sat on a bench at the kitchen table. James was reaching out to her without words. And his message?

Help me
.

33

H
aley traced a cheerful daisy in the vinyl tablecloth and took in the comfortable great room off the kitchen. The linoleum floor was shiny and clean, and there was a tidiness that made the home comforting. Everything had its place. A wide butcher-block counter separated the kitchen from the living area, where three easy chairs sat under an embroidered cross surrounded by words. Haley squinted to make out the saying done in blue thread:

It was the bedtime prayer she had learned as a child.

A warm glow emanated from a freestanding stove between the kitchen and great room, and the sweet smell of baking bread filled the air. Why had she been worried about coming here? It was yet
another lesson in the universal qualities all humans shared. An Amish home was simply a home.

Over at the kitchen counter, Edna took the kettle off the stove.

“Here’s your tea.” Edna brought over a steaming mug. “Do you take milk or sugar?”

“Milk and one sugar, please.”

When Verena returned, there were roses on her cheeks as she placed a bin near the freestanding stove. She was a quiet girl of twelve or thirteen, with creamy white skin and hair the color of tobacco. “The coal in the cellar is getting low. When’s the next delivery?”

“We’ll wait till after the auction for it,” Edna called from the counter. “It’s been mighty expensive this year. All the prices seem to have gone up.”

“No kidding,” Haley said, hoping to make conversation. “I can barely afford to breathe these days.”

Verena squinted at Haley, then began to smile as she opened the stove. “I never thought to be grateful for air.”

“Ya,” Edna chimed in. “The Almighty gives the air around us for free.”

Watching Verena add more coal to the stove, Haley wondered if the Lapps had suspended their coal delivery because of their medical bills. Was Verena putting extra coal in the stove to keep the house warm for her? She hoped that she wasn’t causing the family any inconvenience.

“How are the plans for the auction going?” Haley asked. She had heard talk of the fund-raiser from the others at group therapy.

“Gut. We’re not in charge, but two young women in our church, Mary Beiler and Remy King, are putting it all together. They’ve been doing quilting bees, hoping to make three quilts. Lots of folks have donated things. And Dr. Monroe talked to some doctors at the
hospital, and they’re donating, too. Can you imagine that? Most of them have never even met our James.”

“That’s very generous.” Haley knew that most doctors had disposable income, but it was Dylan’s lobbying that had gotten them on board.

Edna opened the stove and peeked inside. “Verena. Kumm, and I’ll show you how to check the bread.” She slipped on oven mitts and pulled out a rack.

The sight and smell of three golden loaves made Haley’s mouth water. “That’s a lot of bread.”

“It goes fast when you have a family our size,” Edna said. “We’ll probably go through two loaves tonight.”

“There’s ten of us,” Verena offered. “And some nights Mammi and Doddy come for dinner.”

“That’s quite a crew.”

“Now get a little closer and tap the bread,” Edna instructed. “Just tap it with the tip of your finger. Hear that? When you hear that hollow sound, it’s done with baking.”

“Can I take them out?” Verena asked.

Edna handed over the oven mitts. “Ya, but mind you don’t get burned.”

Watching them, Haley recalled her own adventures in baking with her older sisters. There was the time her sister Jessie had mismeasured the salt, making a batch of inedible oatmeal cookies. And no one in the family would let Haley forget the time she had cracked open a half pound of chocolate chips, sending them rolling and scurrying over the floor, under stools, behind the fridge, and through the slats of the floor vent. As the baby of the family, Haley had gained a reputation as chief mischief-maker, though she’d never tried to be so notorious.

“The kitchen always smells good after you bake bread, Mamm.”
Verena set the third pan on the rack to cool, then slipped off the mitts.

“It does smell wonderful,” Haley said, still thinking of her siblings.

“Verena will cut you a slice, soon as it sets up.”

“Thank you. Is James particularly close with any of his siblings? He has brothers close in age, right?”