Dear to Me (17 page)

“Please hold still, Isaiah,” Faith instructed as she dabbed some peroxide under the nail of his thumb. “I want to be sure you don’t get an infection.”

 “It hurts like crazy, Mama.” Isaiah wiggled back and forth in his chair and groaned.

 “I know, son.”

 “Do you think I’m gonna lose my nail?”

 “Time will tell.” Faith reached for the ice bag lying on the table and handed it to Isaiah. “You’d better keep this on your thumb awhile. It’ll help the swelling go down and should help ease the pain, too.”

 Isaiah positioned the bag of ice over his thumb and leaned back in his chair. “I think I might feel better if I had some of Papa’s lemon sponge cake to eat while I’m sittin’ here.”

 Faith chuckled and ruffled her son’s hair. “You think that would help, huh?”

 He grinned. “I surely do.”

 “All right then. I’ll fix us a slice of cake and some cold milk to wash it down.”

 A few minutes later, Faith was seated at the table across from her boy, with a piece of Noah’s delicious lemon sponge cake sitting before them.

 “This sure is tasty,” Isaiah said after he’d taken his first bite. “I think Papa’s the best cook in all of Webster County.”

 “Melinda thinks that, too.”

 Isaiah’s eyebrows furrowed. “Speaking of Melinda, do you wanna know what I heard Gabe say about her?”

 “Not if it’s gossip.”

 “It ain’t.”

 “Isn’t.”

 “That’s what I meant.” Isaiah took a drink of milk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

 Faith reached into the wicker basket sitting in the center of the table and handed him a napkin.

 Isaiah swiped it across his mouth. “As I was saying, when Melinda was lookin’ at my sore thumb, and she said I might lose my fingernail, I said to her, ‘How do you know? You ain’t no doctor.’ And then Gabe said, ‘No, but she’d like to be.’ ”

 Faith pursed her lips. “What did he mean by that?”

 “Beats me. I never got the chance to ask, ’cause Melinda sent me up to the house to have you take a look at my thumb.”

 “Gabe probably made that comment because Melinda’s always playing doctor on some sick or hurting animal.”

 Isaiah shrugged. “Maybe so. She does think she can fix every critter that’s ailin’.”

 Faith reached for her glass of milk and took a sip, letting the cool liquid roll around in her mouth.
I hope that’s all it meant. I don’t know how I would deal with it if Melinda decided to leave the Amish faith and pursue a career in the English world the way I did when I was her age.

Chapter 15

F
or the next few weeks, Melinda struggled for answers as to what she should do about becoming a vet, but no clear direction came. She’d helped Gabe finish Jericho’s dog run, and Gabe had agreed to make Reba a larger cage when he found the time. But every time Melinda broached the subject of them leaving the Amish faith, they ended up in an argument. Before she left for work on Thursday morning, she had found a note from Gabe in the birdhouse. He wanted her to go with him to the farmers’ market on Saturday after the woodworking shop closed at noon. She’d written him back, saying she could go because she wouldn’t be working at the veterinary clinic.

 Now Melinda sat on the porch swing waiting for Gabe and hoping things would go all right between them. She had to make a decision soon and needed Gabe’s final answer. Thursday after work, she’d spoken with Dr. Franklin again, and he’d explained the necessary procedure for getting her GED. Without her folks’ knowledge, she had gotten the information she needed in order to study for the test and was scheduled to take it at the college in Springfield in two weeks. Dr. Franklin’s wife, Ellen, had agreed to drive her there.

 Melinda jumped up when she heard a horse and buggy pull into the yard, figuring it must be Gabe. Instead, she recognized Harold Esh, one of their Amish neighbors.

 “Wie geht’s?” the elderly man called as she approached his buggy.

 “I’m doing fine, and you?”

 “Oh, can’t complain.”

 “Are you here to see my daed?”

 Harold shook his head and stepped down from the buggy. “Found some pheasant eggs in the field this morning, and their mamm was lyin’ dead beside them.” He motioned to the cardboard box in the back of his buggy. “Don’t believe she’d been gone too long, because the eggs were still warm.”

 “What do you think happened?”

 “Looked to me like she’d been shot with a pellet gun.”

 Melinda gasped. “It’s not pheasant hunting season yet. I can’t understand who would do such a thing.”

 He shrugged. “Probably some kid usin’ the bird for target practice.”

 Melinda’s heart clenched. To think that someone would kill a defenseless animal for the mere sport of it made her feel sick.

 “I thought you might like to try and get the eggs to hatch,” Harold said.

 “I may be able to keep them warm under the heat of a gas lamp, but it would be better if I could get one of our hens to sit on the eggs.”

 Harold grunted. “I’ve read about such things but have never attempted it before.” He reached for the box and handed it to Melinda. “With all the interest you have in animals, you’d probably make a good vet. ’Course, you’d have to be English for that, I guess.”

 Melinda’s throat constricted. Did Harold know what she was considering? Had Gabe let it slip, or had Dr. Franklin mentioned the idea of her becoming a vet to someone?

 “I’m taking some of my pencil drawings into Seymour today,” she said, hoping Harold wouldn’t pursue the subject of her making a good vet. “In the past, I’ve sold a few pictures to the gift shop at the bed-and-breakfast there, so I’m hoping they’ll want to buy more.”

 Harold reached under the brim of his straw hat and swiped at the sweat running down his forehead. “Wouldn’t think there’d be much money to be made selling artwork around these parts.”

 “The owner of the bed-and-breakfast told me that tourists who stay there are usually looking for things made by the Amish.”

 When Harold made no comment, Melinda said, “Well, I’d best get these eggs out to the chicken coop. Thanks for bringing them by, and I’ll let you know how it goes.”

 Harold climbed into his buggy and gathered up the reins. “Have a nice time in Seymour, and drive safely.”

 Melinda hurried off as Harold’s buggy rumbled out of the yard. Now if she could only get one of the hens to adopt the eggs he had brought her.

Gabe was glad his dad had gone to Springfield and decided to close their shop for the rest of the day. That gave him the freedom to take Melinda to the farmers’ market without having to ask for time off. Pap was a hard worker and didn’t close up any more often than necessary. Whenever Gabe wanted a break from work, Pap usually made some comment like, “Them that works hard eats hearty.”

 “I work plenty hard,” Gabe mumbled as he headed for the house. He planned to grab a couple of molasses cookies his mother had made yesterday, chug down some iced tea, and be on his way to Melinda’s.

 Inside the kitchen, Gabe found his mother standing in front of their propane-operated stove, where a large enamel kettle sat on the back burner. Steam poured out, and the lid clattered like Pap’s old supply wagon when it rumbled down the graveled driveway.

 “What are you cooking, Mom?” he asked, washing his hands at the sink.

 “I’m canning some beets.”

 He sniffed deeply of the pungent aroma. “I wondered if that was what I smelled. Some tasty beets will be real nice come winter.”

 Gabe poured himself some iced tea. “Sure is hot out there today.”

 His mother turned and wiped her damp forehead with the towel that had been lying on the counter. “It’s even warmer in here. That’s the only trouble with canning. It makes the whole kitchen heat up.”

 Gabe grabbed a molasses cookie from the cookie jar on the counter and stuffed it into his mouth. “Umm…this is sure good.”

 She smiled. “Help yourself to as many as you like. Your sister Karen is coming over tomorrow, and we plan to do more baking.”

 Gabe took out six cookies and wrapped them in a paper towel. “Guess I’ll eat these on my way over to the Hertzlers’ place.”

 “Going to see Melinda?”

 He nodded. “I’m taking her to the farmers’ market in Seymour.”

 “Sounds like fun. Melinda’s a nice girl.”

 “I think so.”

 “She and I had a little talk one day not long ago before she stopped by the woodworking shop to see you.”

 He tipped his head to one side. “Was it me you were talking about?”

 Mom chuckled and reached behind the kettle to turn down the burner of the stove. “I was asking her advice on how to keep the deer out of my garden.”

 “What’d she tell you?”

 “She suggested a couple of things. One was to put some feed out for the deer along the edge of our property.” Mom gestured to the pot of boiling beets. “As you can see, it worked, because I have plenty of garden produce.”

 “Melinda’s pretty schmaert when it comes to things like that.”
She’s just not so smart when it comes to making a decision that would affect the rest of her life.
Gabe glanced at his mother.
Sure wish I could talk this over with Mom. She’s always full of good advice and might have some idea on how I can get Melinda to see things from my point of view.

 “Are you troubled about something, son?” his mother asked. “You look a bit
umgerennt
.”

 Gabe shook his head. “I’m not upset. Just feeling kind of confused about some things.”

 “Do you want to talk about it?”

 Of course Gabe wanted to talk about it, but he thought about his promise to Melinda not to mention her plans to anyone, and he couldn’t go back on his word. “Naw, I’ll figure things out in due time.”

 Mom smiled. “I’m sure you will. Now run along and have yourself a good day at the market.”

 “I will,” Gabe said as he hurried out the door.

 A short time later, he was headed down the road toward the Hertzlers’ place. As he gave his horse the freedom to trot, he thought about Melinda and prayed she would change her mind about becoming a vet. He’d been reading his Bible every night and asking God to show him if leaving the Amish faith was the right thing for either of them to do. So far, he’d felt no direction other than to keep working toward his goal of opening his own woodworking shop. If only Melinda would be content to marry him and stay in Webster County as an Amish woman who looked after needy animals, the way she was doing now. It didn’t seem right that she’d want to follow in her mother’s footsteps and leave the Amish faith to pursue a strictly English career.

 By the time Gabe pulled into the Hertzlers’ driveway, he was feeling pretty worked up. What he really wanted to do was tell Melinda exactly how he felt about things, but he didn’t want to spoil their day at the farmers’ market by initiating another argument. With a firm resolve to hold his tongue, he hopped out of his buggy and secured the horse to the hitching rail near the barn. He glanced up at the house, hoping Melinda would be on the porch waiting for him, but no one was in sight. He scanned the yard, but the only thing he saw was Isaiah’s dog, Jericho, pacing back and forth in his new pen.

 Gabe meandered over to see Jericho, and the mutt wagged his tail while barking a friendly greeting.

 “You like your pen, boy?” Gabe reached through the wire, gave the dog a pat on the head, and then headed for the house. He was almost to the back door when he heard the sound of yodeling coming from the chicken coop.

 “That has to be Melinda,” he said with a chuckle.

 He strode toward the coop and found Melinda on her knees in front of some eggs that were nestled in a wooden box filled with straw.

 “What are you doing?” Gabe asked, shutting the door behind him.

 Melinda lifted her head and smiled. “I’m watching to see if one of our hens will sit on some pheasant eggs Harold Esh brought by awhile ago.”

 Gabe squatted beside her. “How come he brought you those?”

 “The mother pheasant had been killed, and since the eggs were still warm, Harold thought I might be able to get them to hatch.”

 Gabe shook his head. “You may as well become a vet, because everyone in Webster County thinks they should bring their ailing, orphaned, or crippled animals to you.”

 Melinda looked at him pointedly. “You really think I should become a vet?”

 Gabe could have bit his tongue. Of course he didn’t think she should become a vet. “It was just a figure of speech,” he mumbled.

 “I really do like caring for animals,” she said in a wistful tone.

 “I know you do.”

 “Are you’re still thinking and praying about it?”

 He nodded.

 “Any idea how long it will be before you give me your final answer?”

 He shrugged. “Can’t really say. I’ve got to be clear about things before I can make such a life-changing decision.”

 “I understand. I feel that way, too. I don’t want either of us to make a hasty decision.” Melinda pointed to the pheasant eggs lying in the nest of straw. “I wonder how I can coax one of the chickens to sit on these.”

 In one quick motion, Gabe reached out, grabbed a fat red hen, and plunked her on top of the eggs. He didn’t know who was the most surprised when the chicken stayed put, him or Melinda.