Anna's Healing (17 page)

Anna stared at the blanket covering her. She heard what her mother was saying. She'd heard such sentiments all of her life, but it was difficult to believe them now.

“We want you to come home with us, Anna.” Erin moved closer to the bed. “I feel it is my fault for leaving you alone that day—”

“
Nein
.” Anna didn't know whose fault it was, but it wasn't her
aenti
's. The woman had done nothing wrong. If she'd stayed with Anna, she might be in a hospital bed beside her.

“Your
bruders
and
schweschder
are all praying. They have offered to come and help if you need them, but moving you now would be unwise.”

“We want you to come home,” Erin repeated. “Samuel has already spoken with the bishop, and a work crew is coming to the house to widen the doors for your wheelchair and install a ramp.”

Anna looked out the window, unwilling to envision herself in a wheelchair.

“Also the bathroom needs to be modified.”

“It's a lot of expense to go to if I'll be going home eventually.”

“You are worth any expense.”

“It is the best way, Anna. I will stay as long as you need me, and the hospital here is
gut
. I'm sure the rehab center will be exactly what you need. By the time you're finished there, Erin and Samuel's house will be ready for you to return to it.”

“And when will I go home? To Goshen?”

“I want you to give it six months at least. Dr. Hartman has assured us that the first six months are the most critical. If you still want to come home then, we'll get permission from our bishop to fly you back to Indiana.”

The knowledge that she would eventually be home—really home—eased some of the panic clawing inside of Anna. She suddenly had an overwhelming need to close her eyes and sleep. Even the dreams would be an improvement over her new reality.

CHAPTER 25

J
acob plopped chicken salad onto fresh bread and added a spoonful of beans to his plate. Thanking the girl who was standing behind the spread of food, he accepted a glass of water and turned toward the makeshift picnic tables.

All of the workers bowed their heads in prayer at the same moment, and a familiar silence permeated the worksite. On Levi's “Amen,” the noise and clatter of thirty men eating filled the area.

“
Gut
weather for rebuilding a barn,” Adam King said.

It was actually the third barn they had rebuilt in the last week, and it was indeed good weather. Adam had worked on most of them, as had Jacob. The two weren't exactly friends yet, but they were acquainted.

Jacob grunted and bit into his sandwich.

Adam managed to talk around the rather large bite he had taken. “I heard the work has gone well on Samuel's house. Sorry I couldn't be there to help.”

“Quite a few showed up,” Jacob said. “The ramp is done and the bathroom made ready. Widening the doorframes is going to be a bit harder.”

“
Ya
. I would imagine so.”

“Fortunately, Samuel's house has a rather open floor plan, so only three doors need to be widened.”

“Front door.”

“Sure, as well as the bathroom and Anna's room.”

“When does she come home?”

Jacob had been asked the question more times than he could count, and each time he wished he had a better answer. “When she's ready.”

He finished the rest of his meal in silence. He'd been in the community for nearly four weeks. The names and faces were beginning to come together in his mind. The Amish in Cody's Creek made up a small community, especially compared to his parents' home in New York. Unlike some communities he'd visited, they were also close-knit. Perhaps the harshness of Oklahoma had drawn them together.

He'd heard the rumors. Originally, many families had moved away when the leaders made the decision to allow tractors. That was more than ten years ago. Since that time, the ones who were left had to depend on one another to survive, and now they had become a tight group of families. Surprisingly, they still accepted Jacob, though he suspected that had to do with the number of unwed daughters.

Jacob didn't consider himself a prime catch, but he understood how Amish communities worked in regard to marrying. There were four church districts in Cody's Creek totaling more than 600 folks. That equaled a lot of courting, marrying, and babies born—which continued the cycle. With seven to ten children per family, all Amish districts grew quickly.

There wasn't exactly a shortage of people Jacob's age, but someone from out of state was much preferred to someone local simply because so many family lines crossed. And still it was up to the bishop to confirm that those marrying were not first cousins, or in some communities second cousins. The task was made difficult because they came from a fairly restrictive gene pool, as one bishop had explained to Jacob. He'd had a twinkle in his eyes when he had explained, “With so many children in each family, counting your first cousins can easily result in a number over a hundred. Do the math, son. Some days I need my
fraa
to help me with the family lines when counseling a couple. Lots of Millers and Yoders, you know.”

Jacob didn't consider himself ready to marry, but he'd caught enough glances to understand he was the right age to do so. They would figure out soon enough that he didn't plan to stay in the area. He finished his sandwich, gathered up his plate and cup, and carried them to the washbasin.

“If you see Anna, tell her we're praying for her.”

“Sure will,” Jacob said, and then he made his way back toward the barn.

Though a few families had made the trip to Tulsa to visit Anna, Jacob knew that the boys who had been courting her had not. He'd heard that bit of information from Erin one night. He couldn't blame Neal, Adam, and Thomas for losing interest in Anna. An Amish wife confined to a wheelchair? That would require a very special husband indeed.

He spent the next three hours carrying roof slats up ladders, working in the afternoon sun, and hoping the labor would stop the questions whirling through his mind.

How long should he stay in Oklahoma? Could he leave without seeing Anna again? Could he leave when Erin and Samuel so obviously needed his help?

Or should he stay and continue to earn money to send back home? His mother had finally admitted that his younger brother's health had worsened. It was nothing serious, she had assured him, but it had required a short hospital stay. The cost was prohibitive, and his father had stepped in and used the family savings.

Perhaps he should stay in Cody's Creek.

He wasn't sure how long Samuel could pay him, but there were larger farms that might hire him. The work they were doing to help others rebuild from the storm's damage was free—of course it was. An Amish community would never charge a family to help them out in their time of need. But Jacob was also helping Samuel in the mornings and Levi in the afternoons when they weren't rebuilding barns or outbuildings. Levi provided food and a place to stay in exchange for a few hours of work. Samuel paid him as he was able, though with the near total loss of his harvest it didn't seem that could last much longer. Regardless, the money was adding up. He'd need to go into town the next week so that he could wire more money home.

Which had nothing to do with the real reason he had a strong desire to stay. No, the truth was that he'd felt something for Anna Schwartz that he'd never experienced—even before the storm.

Before he'd seen her lying on the ground.

Certainly before she'd stared up at him with fear flooding her brown eyes and asked that he hold her hand.

An Amish wife confined to a wheelchair?

Jacob wasn't naive. He understood how difficult that would be, and he wasn't saying he was considering marrying Anna. He barely knew her. All he knew for certain was that he needed to see her again before he decided to move on.

One of his questions was answered as he was leaving the job site. Bishop Levi limped his way—something that had looked odd to Jacob when he first arrived but now looked natural. Levi didn't allow his infirmity to slow him down. The older man fell into step beside Jacob, asked about his health, discussed the weather, and finally got to the point.

“Samuel tells me you've been a real help around his place.”

“Doing my best.”

“We appreciate it. The entire community does.” Levi stopped and turned to study the barn that was now nearly complete. “
Gotte
blessed us in spite of the storm. There were few injuries and no real damage to homes. Still the barns must be rebuilt and the winter crops planted.”

“Samuel hopes to have his winter wheat in the ground next week.”

“
Ya
. He told me as much. You know, Jacob, things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out.”

Jacob couldn't help smiling at the impish look in the bishop's eyes. “
Ya
, my
grossdaddi
used to say that.”

“The proverbs are
gut
. They guide us in much the same way as the
Ordnung
.”

“But you didn't stop me to share Amish proverbs.”

“Indeed. There have been many donations made for Anna.”

“Donations—”

“From Amish and
Englisch
. It seems the news reports written by the woman with the Mayes County paper have drawn quite a bit of attention.”

“Chloe.”

“You know her?”

“No, but Anna spoke of her.”

Levi nodded. “Samuel and Erin have asked me to oversee the
contributions. They are somewhat embarrassed by the attention. However, we did speak about using some of the money to pay you.”

“Me?”

“Samuel has no sons.”

“That's not a new situation.”

“He needs the winter crop planted, and he'll need more help than ever around the farm. Anna's situation will require his attention to be diverted from his normal work. There will be constant doctor appointments, not to mention she will need help to get out of bed in the morning. He won't be able to work in the fields for hours without interruption. His new responsibilities will cut into his time, and that's where you come in. If you can stay, we'll be happy to pay you.”

The amount the bishop named was more than fair. “I'll continue to provide your room and food in exchange for ten hours of work each week around my place. The rest of your time will be spent at Samuel's.”

“But I don't want to take money that's earmarked for Anna.”

Levi pulled out a small pocketknife and proceeded to clean the dirt from under his nails. After he'd finished with one hand, he glanced at Jacob and said, “Folks donating these funds want them used for the entire family.”

“But if Anna needs—”

“Anna needs time and prayers, as well as a wheelchair and an updated bathroom. Help Anna's famly, and you will be helping her.” Levi allowed his words to sink in as he cleaned the nails on his other hand, closed the knife, and slipped it into his pocket. “Are we in agreement?”

Jacob nodded. Levi slapped him on the back, and then the two men walked in separate directions.

It seemed God had provided a way for him to stay. He would be able to see Anna again. After she came home, he could decide whether he should move on or not. In the meantime, the money he was making would certainly help his family.

Now, if he could figure out what to do with the feelings that were bouncing and colliding in the pit of his stomach.

CHAPTER 26

C
hloe filed continual updates on the tragedy at Cody's Creek over the next several months. It was her assigned area to report on, but it also seemed she had become an Amish expert of sorts, perhaps because of her connection to Anna.

There was certainly other news to report, and she did. The opening of a new store. Changes in city council members. School happenings. She attended all of those things, interviewed individuals involved, and took along a cameraman when the piece could be complemented by photos. And though her heart wasn't in those things, her readership grew. Eric received numerous emails praising her column. She knew that because the letters were always copied to her as well; however, he never mentioned them to her. He was still looking for the next
big story
.

Cody's Creek was not that story. Though tragedy had struck and people were hurt, life moved on.

But not for Chloe. Her heart was stuck trying to make some sort of sense out of what had happened. She watched the families in Cody's Creek rebuild from the destruction they had suffered. She participated in charity drives and blood donations and work teams. She became close to a community that six weeks before she'd known little about. Yes, she'd reported on the area for some time, but she hadn't known the people. She hadn't worked and sweated and ate and cried with them—until now.