Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby (36 page)

Chapter Two

T
hey were going home at last.

Toby Yoder knelt in front of his ten-year-old sister's wheelchair inside the huge lobby of the Fort Wayne Medical Center. The soaring two-story tall glass windows let the light pour in around her. It reflected off the gleaming marble floors and the chrome legs of the chairs and tables near them. Swags of greenery and red bows adorned the front of the large curved cherrywood reception desk while a massive white Christmas tree with blue ornaments and a gleaming silver star dominated the center of the lobby. Every table had a potted poinsettia or an arrangement of cinnamon-scented pinecones in the center.

Signs of the holy season were everywhere, but they couldn't lighten his heart.

Marianne wouldn't look at the sunshine, or the Christmas decorations—or at him. She sat slumped into the corner of the chair as if hiding from the world in a donated black coat that was too big for her. She looked worn to the bone already and she had been up less than half an hour. She was still so weak. His funny, fun-loving and energetic little sister was a shell of her former self and it was his fault.

If it took the rest of his life, he would make it up to her.

He forced a smile for her benefit. “We don't have to leave town today, Marianne. My old roommates won't mind if you want to stay at their apartment. It's not far from here. You can rest up for a few days before we travel to Pennsylvania. I'll make arrangements for another driver to take us then.”

She shook her head slightly. “
Nee.
Take me home now,” she whispered.

She hadn't spoken more than a few whispered words to him since the fire that took the lives of their parents and put her in the hospital. In spite of that, she managed to make it clear she wanted to go back to Pennsylvania. She didn't want to stay in Indiana.

A non-Amish family walked in through the hospital doors. Several of the children stared openly at Toby and Marianne. Dressed in traditional Amish clothing and wearing a black flat-topped felt hat, Toby knew he stood out from ordinary visitors to the hospital. Although there were large Amish settlements in the area, Amish folks rarely ventured into the heart of the city.

Marianne pulled her oversize black bonnet forward to cover the still raw-looking burns on the left side of her face and neck. She hated people staring at her. A stab of pity took the smile from Toby's face. He would give anything to undo the decisions that had led to her pain, but that wasn't possible. God should have put him in her place that night. She should have been the one left unscathed.

The elevator door across the lobby opened and a nurse came out pushing another wheelchair. In it sat an Amish elder wearing a heavy frown. His pale face was almost as gray as his long beard. A young man in scrubs followed them, pushing a cart laden with several suitcases. He left the cart parked near the door and joined the nurse. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Barkman. Merry Christmas.” With a nod, a wink and a thumbs-up to the nurse, he went back to the elevators.

“I don't see why you're kicking me out in the cold. What kind of hospital is this?” Mr. Barkman grumbled.

“We aren't kicking you out, Mr. Barkman. Your driver is on his way. He has picked up your niece at the bus station, and they'll be here soon. You're going home with her.”

“That's no comfort to me. My nieces are the cause of this, you know. Their disgraceful behavior shamed me and put all the work of the farm on my shoulders. It was too much for a man my age. You think I'll be better off living with them? Ha! You might as well call the undertaker and be done with it.”

“That's no way to talk. Remember what your doctor told you. A positive attitude will help more than any medication.” She parked his chair by a sofa in the waiting area.

“That doctor would sing a different tune if he'd had a heart attack and heart surgery. Where are my pain pills?”

“You will need to pick them up at the pharmacy. I have all the instructions on what you need to take and when. I will go over it with you and your niece. You have your nitroglycerin, don't you?”

He nodded and patted his vest pocket. “Pills, pills and more pills. What good have they done me? I'm still a sick man.”

She said, “I see a van coming up the drive. I think they're here.”

The relief in the nurse's voice brought back Toby's grin. He leaned close to his sister. “You are a much better patient.” He hoped for a smile, but he was disappointed. She kept her head lowered.

A long white van pulled to a stop outside the doors. The driver, a portly man in his midforties with curly salt-and-pepper hair hopped out and came around to open the sliding door on the passenger's side. A young Amish woman got out.

“Is that your niece, Mr. Barkman?” the nurse asked.

“That's Greta. The ungrateful hussy. I'm amazed she has the courage to show her face to me.”

The nurse rolled her eyes and muttered, “So am I.”

Toby happened to catch her glance. She smothered a sheepish grin. It was clear she thought Mr. Barkman's niece would have her hands full.

The outside door opened. The van driver and the woman came inside along with a gust of cold wind. Mr. Barkman's niece stopped a few feet away from her uncle. The driver came straight to Toby.

“Are you Tobias Yoder?” he asked in a booming voice.

Toby rose and held out his hand. “You must be Arles Hooper. Thank you for agreeing to take us to Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania. I know it's a very long drive. This is Marianne.”

“Pleased to meet you both. I've got several more Amish folks riding with us. It's fortunate for me that so many Amish like to travel this time of year. I've got a full load. I had to make the trip worth my while, you know, with the price of gas and oil. Course you folks don't have to worry about that, what with driving buggies. We won't make it to Bird-in-Hand tonight, but I'll get you there as soon as I can. There's talk of a big winter storm moving this way. I'm hoping to beat it, but I know a few nice, inexpensive motels where we can hunker down if need be.”

“That's fine.” Toby nodded, but he didn't have the funds for an extended stay at a motel. What little extra he had would be needed when he got to Pennsylvania.

“Good. I have a family named Coblentz with me. There are eight of them, but they are only going as far as Ohio City. I know that's a little bit out of your way, but not much, less than an hour. I'll be taking Mr. Barkman and his niece all the way to Hope Springs, Ohio. From there, it will just be you two. I hope you don't mind the additional passengers.”

“We'll be glad of the extra company on the trip, won't we, Marianne?” He spoke to his sister, but his gaze was drawn to Mr. Barkman's niece.

Ungrateful Greta didn't look like a hussy. She wasn't strikingly pretty, but she was pleasant looking. Demurely dressed in a dark blue overcoat and a large black bonnet, she was slightly taller than average. She carried a blue cloth bag over one arm. What little he could see of her hair was a light honey brown. He couldn't be sure from here, but he thought her eyes were light brown, as well.

She stood with her head held high. There was something almost defiant in her stance. Something else he'd noticed...there hadn't been any display of affection or even a greeting between her and her uncle.

Arles left Toby's side and approached Mr. Barkman. “Good to have you with us, sir. I'll do my best to make it an easy journey. Shall I put your things in the van?”

“Greta can do it. She's good with simple tasks,” Mr. Barkman snapped.

Toby caught a glimpse of the covert glance she shot her uncle. Her eyes filled with dislike before she looked down and schooled her features into blankness. Toby's interest sharpened. The tension between the uncle and niece was palpable. It might prove to be an uncomfortable trip with these two in the van.

The nurse said, “Please take the bags out, Mr. Hooper. I need to speak with Miss Barkman about her uncle's care.”

Toby continued to study the young Amish woman who looked to be in her early twenties. Her knuckles stood out white against her dark clothing where her hands were clenched tightly into fists. She seemed taut as a bowstring.

She glanced his way, and her eyes softened when she caught sight of his sister. A gentle smile curved her lips and changed her features from pleasant looking to sweetly appealing. He found himself smiling in turn. She looked up from his sister and met his gaze.

Appealing was right. Instantly, he felt a strange connection. Her eyes widened. He was right. They were a light, lively golden brown. He couldn't seem to break the contact. Who was Greta Barkman? What was she thinking? He wanted to know.

She looked away first, and his unexpected connection with her was broken. The nurse had called her Miss Barkman, so she wasn't married.

He gave a small shake of his head. Interest in a pretty woman should be the last thing on his mind. He needed to get Marianne home to Pennsylvania, find a job and look after her. She was his priority now. He planned to spend the rest of his life taking care of her. He owed her that much and more.

He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched, then grabbed his hand. “You won't leave me, will you?”

The treatment for her burns had been painful, leaving her leery of physical contact, but she didn't want him out of her sight. He knelt in front of her. “Of course not. We're going home to Pennsylvania together.”

“I don't want these other people around.”

“I know, honey, but it can't be helped. Don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

* * *

Greta caught the interplay between the young girl in the wheelchair and the handsome man with her. It was comforting to see such a close relationship. Her own troubled history gave her a heightened sense of awareness about others, particularly young women. The man was a nice-looking Amish fellow with dark hair, intelligent dark eyes and a winning smile. There was something compelling in his gaze that intrigued her.

“There are some things we need to go over, Miss Barkman. It should only take a few minutes,” the nurse said, drawing Greta's attention once more.

“Of course.” She managed a stiff smile.

“Please ask if you have any questions. I've included my cell phone number at the top of the paperwork. When I spoke with Mr. Hooper about this trip, he assured me you would be able to use his phone if you need to. Mr. Hooper understands that he'll have to make frequent stops for Mr. Barkman's well-being.”

“A lot of good that will do. What if I need to lie down?” Morris asked.

“I'll do everything in my power to make you comfortable,
Onkel,
” Greta assured him.

“You and your sisters have brought me nothing but shame and hardship. Traveling with you will not bring me comfort.”

Greta pressed her lips together to hold back her comment. She had come prepared to treat her uncle with civility, but his attitude was making it difficult. He hadn't changed at all. If anything, he was openly hostile now. Before, he had taken pains to keep his cruelty hidden.

The nurse pushed Morris toward a nearby door. “We will have more privacy inside our Quiet Room. I'm Mrs. Collins, the discharge nurse for our Cardiac Care Unit.”

Greta rushed to hold open the door for them. The nurse said, “Why don't you have a seat, Miss Barkman. I need to review Mr. Barkman's going-home instructions with you both.”

She pulled a clipboard from a pocket on the back of the wheelchair and stepped around to face Morris. She held out the clipboard and a pen. “I need your permission to share your medical information with your niece. Would you sign on the bottom, please?”

“I don't see why she needs to know anything.”

“Your medications are complex and should you develop any problems, your niece must know what to do. A patient can't very well take nitroglycerin if they are unconscious. This is hypothetical, of course, but you do see my point, don't you?”

Morris pulled the document toward him and scribbled his name across the bottom. “Tell her anything you like, but I don't have to stay and listen to it.”

“Very well. You may wait outside until Mr. Hooper can take you to the van.”

Mrs. Collins wheeled Morris out and after a few minutes, the woman returned alone. She smiled as she sat down across from Greta. “I'm sorry. Your uncle has not been the most cooperative patient.”

“That doesn't surprise me. Please tell me what I need to know.”

The nurse's face softened. “Your uncle sustained a massive heart attack. The doctors here did a triple bypass surgery, but even with restored blood flow, some of his heart muscle has been severely damaged.”

“I'm surprised he agreed to the surgery. It is not our way.”

“We were surprised, as well, but I'm afraid in spite of the surgery his prognosis is not good.”

Greta frowned. “I don't understand.”

“He continues to have episodes of chest pain, what we call unstable angina. He has medicine that he needs to take as soon as these episodes begin. The pain is caused by a lack of blood flow to his already weakened heart. Your uncle's heart was so damaged that he is not a candidate for another procedure. The best we can offer is palliative care.”

“What does this mean,
palliative
?” Greta thought she understood the sympathy in the woman's words but she needed to be sure.

“It means we want to make your uncle's last months as comfortable as possible. He is not going to get better.”

“Morris is dying?” Greta felt the air rush out of her lungs.

Chapter Three

T
he man who made her life miserable for years would die soon.

Greta took a deep, unsteady breath and looked at the nurse. “Does my uncle know he won't get better?”

Mrs. Collins nodded. “He is aware of his prognosis, but I don't believe that he has accepted it. I'm sorry to give you such bad news. He tells us he has no close family or friends. Frankly, we were all very surprised by that. The Amish people we have treated in the past have been surrounded by caring family and church members.”

Greta waited to feel something, anything, but all she felt was numb. Over the years, after some of her worst beatings at his hands, she had prayed that God would call him to judgment. God hadn't answered her then. Why now?

Her common sense reasserted itself. Her uncle's illness was part of God's larger plan. It had nothing to do with the wishes of the scared and angry girl she had once been.

The scared, angry woman she still was.

How many times had she offered her forgiveness up to God? And how many times had her anger raised its ugly head the way it was doing now? She didn't want to hate him. She only wanted to be free of him. And soon she would be.

This news changed so much. She wasn't sure what to say to him or how to act. It suddenly struck her that this could be his last Christmas.

Greta gripped her bag tightly. “How long do you think he has?”

“Our best guess is a few months. With good care, it could be longer. We can't say for sure.”

“Of course. Only God knows when our time here is done. Is he...is he suffering?”

“Angina attacks can be painful and very frightening, but on the whole he isn't in pain. He does tire easily so make sure he gets enough rest.”

“I will.” Greta looked at the floor. Could she take care of him? Why was God placing the burden on her?

The nurse handed Greta several pamphlets and a typewritten list. “These are some important points for you to know. They cover diet suggestions, exercise, pain management, things that can make his quality of life better. I also have some information on end-of-life issues. You may want to look over this and discuss it with your family members and perhaps your minister. And with Mr. Barkman when he is ready.”

Greta took the pamphlets and tucked them into her bag. “You mentioned something about medicines?”

“Yes. These are his prescriptions. I will give your driver directions to a pharmacy near here. Your uncle has a vial of small white pills with him called nitroglycerin. He is to put one under his tongue at the first sign of chest pain. I have written out what you need to do if that doesn't help. I know this is a lot for you to take in. Are you sure you are okay with this?”

“I believe I understand everything you have said. What about his bill?”

“That's been covered in full.”

By his church no doubt. At least his congregation had done that for him even if they wouldn't take him in. It was strange that her uncle's bishop hadn't mentioned the fact in his letter.

Mrs. Collins handed over a business card. “This is my personal number. Call me anytime you have questions. Day or night, it doesn't matter. I only wish we could have done more for your uncle.”

“He is in God's hands. It is as the Lord wills.”

“Yes. We are all in God's hands. We all struggle to do the best we can in an imperfect world. I pray God gives both you and your uncle the comfort you need.”

She rose to her feet and left Greta alone.

* * *

Toby spoke to the driver who was pushing the empty cart inside after having loaded Mr. Barkman's things. “Arles, is it all right if we get settled in the van?”

“Sure. Do you need a hand?”

“
Nee,
I can manage.”

Mr. Barkman was slowly wheeling himself toward the door. There was no sign of his niece yet.

Arles caught sight of him. “Just a minute, sir, and I'll help you.”

Mr. Barkman grunted but didn't answer.

Toby pulled on his coat. From a nearby chair, he picked up the duffel bag that contained all his and his sister's worldly belongings. The fire hadn't left them much. Neighbors and his coworkers had contributed clothing and essentials. He had enough money to pay their way and get by on this trip, but not much else. He figured they could wait until they were back in Pennsylvania and he was working again to purchase anything else they might need. When he could find work.

His mother's sister and her husband were taking them in. With eleven children of her own, his aunt assured him that two more would hardly be noticed. He was grateful for her kindness. She believed living with a big and lively family would help Marianne recover. He prayed she was right.

He pushed his sister's wheelchair out the sliding glass doors and up to the van. He held out his hand to steady her as she gingerly stood. She wavered slightly but managed to step into the van. He worried that she was still so weak. She should have been gaining strength, but she wasn't. It was as if she didn't want to get better.

Inside the van were three rows of double seats along the left side and a row of three single seats along the right side upholstered in brown and cream vinyl. A narrow aisle led to a full bench seat at the rear. There was a luggage compartment behind that.

The passenger's seat by the driver, the first two rows and all the single seats were taken by the Coblentz family, a tall, thin father, a plump mother with four stair-step blond boys and an older woman with a toddler beside her. Toby nodded to the occupants as he followed Marianne. She bypassed the last empty row and went straight to the bench in the back. Toby propped his duffel bag in the corner and sat down beside her. She lay down on the bench.

He took off his coat and folded it into a pillow for her. “Here. Use this.”

She took it from him without a word.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes as exhaustion took over. He was eager to get to Bird-in-Hand where his aunt had a real bed waiting for him. He'd spent most of the past two months sleeping in a chair or on the couch in the burn-unit waiting room and then on a cot in his sister's room. He hadn't left her side for more than an hour since she had been transferred out of the ICU. She quickly became panicked when he was out of sight.

After a little while, the outside door of the van opened again. Toby watched as Mr. Barkman was helped in by the driver. He sat down and sighed heavily as he put his cane on the seat beside him. A few minutes later, Greta got in. She stopped beside her uncle, waiting for him to move his cane so she could sit down.

He glared at her. “I may have to travel in the same van but I refuse to sit beside this sinner. She and her sisters have been shunned by our church. She is under the
Bann.
”

Everyone in the van turned to look at her in shock. Then, one by one, the adults turned away from her, their backs rigid with disapproval. Toby wondered what she had done to earn such condemnation from her congregation.

She looked around. No one else made room for her. She had no choice but to move to the back where he sat.

She kept her gaze lowered, but her cheeks were blazing red with embarrassment. “Sir, may I sit here?”