A Simple Hope: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (36 page)

S
handell rolled over on her side and snuggled into the crisp white sheet. To be nestled in a bed—even this stiff cot in Dr. Trueherz’s office—was heavenly. She reached for the covered cup on the end table and took a few sips of Gatorade through the straw.

“You’re awake,” came a voice from the door.

Shandell rolled over to face Celeste, the doctor’s wife, who seemed to be in charge of the office. They’d had such a nice talk earlier when Shandell had awakened on the cot in the doctor’s infirmary. Celeste reminded Shandell of her own mother, whom Celeste had promised to reach for her.

“And you’re drinking. That’s good. Remember, small sips for now.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Shandell asked, her voice creaking.

“A few hours. How are you feeling?”

“Better. I can think straight, at least. My body isn’t so weak, though I’m still wiped out.”

“That’s understandable. I finally got a call through while you were sleeping. Your mother is anxious to talk to you.”

“My mom?” Hope sparked in Shandell’s chest. “Is she here?”

“She’ll be heading this way as soon as she finishes work this afternoon. When she heard you were sick, she was ready to lam right out of there, but I told her she was better off waiting. You’ll probably be napping most of the day, and the doc wants to keep you on IV fluids through the afternoon.”

“Okay.” Shandell was happy to stay right here in this soft bed and wait for her mother. “My mom is coming. You don’t know what a relief that is.”

Celeste patted her shoulder. “Oh, I know. A mother’s love is the best medicine.”

“I really miss her.”

“She can’t wait to see you. Said she was sick with worry. I told her I’d take good care of you until she got here.” Celeste pumped up the cuff until it squeezed Shandell’s arm.

“I can’t believe it. This is the end of a really long journey.”

“So I heard. Your mom said you’ve been away for weeks, and Rachel told me you’ve been living in a sugaring shack.”

“I don’t know what I would have done without James and Rachel’s help.” As Shandell pictured her mother’s broad smile, she remembered the conversation they’d had the night before when Mom had told her that she’d left Phil. At the time, it had seemed devastating to lose their home that way, but now, with the perspective of a clearer mind, Shandell realized it was a positive development. It would be good to be free of Phil and his illness, and wherever Chelsea and Shandell went, they would make a home together. Living in the sugar shack, Shandell had learned that a home was not the four walls around you, but the people you shared your days with.

“Your blood pressure looks good,” Celeste said, “and your fever is gone. You young people bounce back fast.”

Shandell smoothed her palm over the white sheet. “This is such a tidy place. Like a little hospital.”

“We aren’t equipped like that, but the doc had the idea to put some beds into this room, and I have to say, they’ve gotten plenty of use. The bulk of our patients are Amish folk, who usually do not want to be checked in to a hospital. If their condition isn’t too serious, Henry will let them stay here during the day and monitor their progress. It saves them a trip to Lancaster, as well as a good deal of money.”

“Well, thanks for saving me, too,” Shandell said, her heart full of gratitude.

Celeste smiled as she made a note on her clipboard. “You are very welcome, but it’s what we do.”

As Shandell sipped more of her drink, she felt a swell of appreciation for this place, Lancaster County, where people put themselves out to lend a hand to strangers. She was glad Mom was coming, but she felt a twinge of regret at the thought of leaving Halfway behind.

W
hen James found Shandell in Dr. Trueherz’s office at the end of the day, she was sitting up, eating a Popsicle, and her face was pink and healthy. He was glad to see her back to her old self again.

“I have good news.” Shandell smiled, her lips purple from the grape Popsicle. She was still hooked up to an IV line; James recognized the tubing running into her arm and the bag of clear fluids hanging from a metal hook beside her. “My mom is coming to get me! Celeste talked to her on the phone, and she insisted. She’s driving up when she gets out of work.”

“And the doctor says you should be good to go by then,” Celeste told Shandell, “though you’ll need to take it easy.”

“Do you know what made Shandell sick?” James asked.

“Doc thinks it was something environmental, possibly unpasteurized milk, or bacteria in the water. Shandell explained how she
was drawing water from the creek. Let me tell you, E. coli is not your friend.”

“Well, we only have pasteurized milk at my house,” James said. “So it must have been the water.”

“Which I always heated up,” Shandell said. “I saw in one of those survival shows that you should heat water from a stream before you drink it, just in case.”

“A very good idea.” Celeste nodded as she tossed away the disposable thermometer stick. “But did you bring it to a boil? Did you boil the water you washed your hands in? The water you used to brush your teeth and wash?”

“Not exactly,” Shandell admitted.

“That stream contains many strains of bacteria, and it’s very likely that bacteria is causing the diarrhea and subsequent dehydration. We won’t have the test results back for another day or two, but we’re going to treat this as if it’s E. coli from the stream. Which means, no more exposure to this water source.”

“That won’t be a problem, since I’m going back to Maryland,” Shandell said.

“Everything looks good.” Celeste smiled as she wrote on the chart. “I’m taking out the IV; that will give you more mobility.”

James nodded slowly. “So … at last, you get to go home.”

“Back to Maryland, but we can’t go home. Mom is splitting up with my stepfather, so I guess we’ll be in a motel for the time being. Mom told me all about it last night when I called her from the phone shanty. I think I was too sick to totally comprehend it.”

“This makes sense of some of the puzzling things you said on our way here this morning,” James said, wondering how she could be smiling when things had gone so very wrong.

“Really? What did I say?” When he told her a few of the things, she moaned. “Aw. I really was a mess.”

“A high fever like that can bring on a sort of delirium,” Celeste said.

James nodded. “You were in a bad way. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I am. Especially now that Mom is coming for me.” Shandell’s dark eyes shone in the light. “But I’m going to miss you guys. It’ll be nice to have a bed and running water and all, but I will definitely miss our chats.”

James squeezed the armrests of his chair as he looked up at the Englisher girl who had seemed so mysterious when he’d first stumbled upon her in the back of the orchard. Now he could see that she was not that different, not in the ways that mattered. “It’s been good knowing you, Shandell.”

When Rachel arrived a few minutes later and learned the news, there was much hugging and back-patting and sighing between the two women. James held back a grin as he watched them say their good-byes with promises to write letters—snail mail, as Shandell called it. The two of them were like peas in a pod.

While Rachel went around to the hitching post behind the clinic, Shandell walked James out to the vehicle parking lot.

“How come you never let anyone push you?” Shandell asked as they stepped into the spring day, a breezy day with short stretches of bright sun peeking out between fast-moving clouds.

“I used to think that was the sign of a weak man,” James said. “Now, not so much. The more I can move on my own, the more I see that walking is not what makes a man strong. If there’s a strong, sturdy oak inside, no one notices the chipped bark on the outside.”

Her nose wrinkled as she squinted. “Is that a riddle?”

He chuckled. “Sort of.” The riddle of life.

She asked him to take good care of her possessions, which he and Rachel would hold on to until she knew her mailing address in Maryland.

“I don’t mean to be a baby, but please, please, be careful with my
Bible Stories
book,” Shandell said. “My dad used to read it with me, and it’s one of the last keepsakes that remind me of him.”

“We will be very careful with your book,” James promised.

Both James and Shandell were watching the parking lot entrance, waiting for Rachel to pull off the quiet side street with the buggy, when a dark green car cruised by, its motor roaring louder than most.

Shandell jerked upright. “Is that …” Her face reflected her horror. “It is! It’s Gary.”

The hairs on the back of James’s head rose, his skin prickling in alarm. This was the man who had lied to Shandell and left her a hundred miles from home.

Shandell was already looking around for a place to hide, but they were in a wide-open spot on the center of the pavement. She lunged over to the right and dove behind the closest parked car.

“Did he see me?” she called to James. “Did he stop?”

“I don’t think so,” James said under his breath as he watched the slow-moving car glide off down the street, the red taillights disappearing behind the bank on the corner. “He’s gone.”

“Oh, that was close.” Shandell rose, dusting her hands off on the seat of her jeans. “What is he doing here?”

Was Gary still looking for Shandell, or had he come back for another reason? There was no telling, but it would be best for Shandell to stay out of his way. “You’d best be careful.”

“I will. I’d better get back in.”

She was interrupted by the roar of an engine and a squeal of brakes. Dust rose as the big green car slid into the parking lot and skidded to a stop.

Gary was back.

In an instant the car door popped open and a tall, rangy man emerged, his arms spread wide. “Shandell! It’s you, baby. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Jarred, Shandell stepped back, ducking to a spot where James could no longer see her. “Go away, Gary. I mean it.”

“Aw. Don’t be that way. We need to talk. Come on in the car, where we can have some privacy.” Edging forward, Gary never took his eyes off Shandell as he spoke.

This one has the eyes of a hunter
, James thought. Cold, calculating, determined.

The door behind Gary remained open and the heavy beat of music thrummed from the car. Fear clamped around James’s gut like a vise. To his right, Shandell was trying to get to the clinic’s door, but Gary was tracking her, nearly on her.

“You’d best go, friend,” James said firmly. “She doesn’t want to go with you.”

“What are you going to do,
friend
? Leave a tire track on top of my boot?” Gary’s smile was smug. “An Amish guy in a wheelchair—two strikes against you. I know, you Amish don’t fight. Don’t even defend yourselves. You’d be a waste of my time, but this one—” He made a grab for Shandell, clamped on to her arm, and jerked her toward him.

“Ow! That hurts. Cut it out.”

“Just get in the car and we’ll talk about it.” He tugged on her arm, but she resisted, sitting down in the gravel.

“Why do you make things so hard?” he growled. When she kept trying to free her arm, he braced himself and started pulling, dragging her across the gravel to his car.