An Uncommon Grace (6 page)

“He’s less than an hour old. He won’t even be aware you’re there.”

“You know this to be true?” Again those eyes studied her.

“Well, no, I guess not.” Something about the directness of his gaze and voice unnerved her.

“He will know the sound of my voice. It will calm him.”

She had no reply. Science had shown that newborns were much more aware of their surroundings than people had once thought. Levi might be right for all she knew. Her expertise was not in pediatrics.

He dismissed their conversation by staring once again at the countryside whizzing past. The children, in her opinion, were unnaturally quiet. “Everybody okay back there?” She glanced into the rearview mirror. They were sitting as still as statues. “They’re awfully quiet, Levi.”

“Being inside a vehicle is not common to them.”

“Were you and your stepfather close?” Grace wondered if his reticence might be coming from deep grief. She knew a thing or two about grief herself.

“What do you mean—close?”

“You know—did you get along well?”

It took him longer than she thought the question warranted for him to answer.

“Abraham was a good provider,” he said.

“But were you close?”

“He was a dutiful father.”

She was about to probe a little more when suddenly he stiffened. “Turn here.”

Grace jerked the wheel and abruptly turned into a long lane that led to an idyllic rural scene. A lovely white farmhouse with a wraparound porch, built upon a gentle hill, rose before her. All around it were neatly maintained fields. A large, freshly painted black barn sat behind. A slender woman, dressed in a blue Amish-style dress with a kerchief tied around her hair, was trimming the fence line nearest the house with a gasoline-powered Weed Eater. A small girl about Sarah’s age slid down a brightly colored slide that was attached to a nice jungle gym. Three boys jumped up and down on a trampoline. An older girl was working in a vegetable garden.

Grace couldn’t help but compare it with the rather ragged and poor appearance of the Shetler farm.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

“It is.”

“This is your mom’s sister?”

“Rose is
Maam
’s twin.” He leaned forward, apparently drinking in the sight of this farm.

As Grace drove closer, the woman turned and shaded her eyes against the sun. Grace could see the strong resemblance between her and Claire. She stopped the van and Rose suddenly recognized who was in the car. She dropped the Weed Eater and covered her mouth, her eyes wide and frightened. Then she broke into a run. She reached Levi just as he climbed out of the car.

“What’s happened?” She grasped him by the shirt. “Where is Claire?”

“She is . . .” Levi suddenly choked up. He shook his head, unable to speak.

Grace saw that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say the awful words to this woman who looked so much like his mother. She climbed out of the car and came around to where Rose and Levi stood.

“I’m Grace Connor,” she said, “a neighbor of the Shetlers. Your sister is going to be okay, but there was a shooting . . .”

Rose’s face drained of color. She swayed slightly. Then she pressed her lips together, lifted her chin, and straightened her shoulders.

“The baby was taken to Children’s Hospital in Columbus, which is where we’re headed.”

“The baby?” Rose asked.

This puzzled Grace. Rose and Claire were sisters. Twins. It seemed odd that Rose wouldn’t know about her sister’s pregnancy. Grace glanced at Levi and saw that his attention had been caught by a man striding toward them from the barn.

“What is going on?” he demanded. The man was barrel chested and formidable looking in stained work clothes and boots. He barely glanced at Grace but stared at Levi as though at an apparition.

“Henry!” Rose exclaimed. “My sister has been shot. Someone came into their house.”

“What of Abraham?” Henry asked.

Levi found his voice. “
Daed
was killed by the intruder.
Maam
would take it as a kindness if you would care for the three
Kinner
while I go to be with the babe.”

The three children had managed to take their seat belts off, and their faces were pressed against the van’s windows. Rose lifted her hand in a wave.

“We will care for the children,” she said. “It will be good to finally get to know them.”

Levi lifted the children out, one by one, giving each an admonition to be good and to respect their aunt and uncle. Sarah showed signs of bursting into tears, but Rose cuddled her in her arms and spoke soothingly to her in soft German. The uncle, solemn and solid, laid a comforting hand on each of the boys’ shoulders.

There were no hugs, no tears, none of the awkward pats on the back that men tended to give each other in times of crisis. As Levi and Grace got back into the van, the uncle motioned for Levi to roll down the window. Levi fumbled with the unfamiliar button. Grace managed it with the controls on her side.

“Your mother will be in our prayers,” the uncle said. “And the babe. And you.”

Through the window, the men clasped hands. Grace guessed it was as close to a hug as either of them would get.

As she turned back onto the main road, many questions crowded together in her mind. Why had Rose not known of her sister’s pregnancy? Why were the children strangers to an uncle and aunt who lived less than five miles away? There was much she wanted to know, but Levi was so stone faced, she hesitated to ask.

He leaned forward as though to urge the minivan onward. “I would not mind,” he said, “if you drove faster.”

I
t was obvious that Levi was completely out of his depth.

As the young farmer stood gazing at the high ceilings and the acres of brightly carpeted floor of Children’s Hospital, Grace could tell that he was overwhelmed by the enormity of the place.

She inquired at the front desk for directions and Levi followed close behind as she made her way to the NICU—the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. When she stopped in front of an elevator, he was so engrossed in looking around, he bumped into her.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, Levi. It’s a big place. There’s a lot to see.”

As they waited for the elevator, a nurse walked by pulling a crippled child in a red wagon. Another child whizzed along, pushed in a wheelchair cleverly designed to look as if it belonged to NASCAR.

“Jesse would like that chair,” Levi observed.

“Let’s hope he never has to be in one,” she said. “These are sick children, even if the staff does everything in their power to make this place cheerful.”

“Look.” He pointed upward.

She glanced up. Suspended high from the ceiling,
designed to look as though they were soaring free overhead, was a flock of metal birds.

The elevator doors opened. As they began to go upward, Levi acted startled and grabbed hold of the handrail.

“First elevator ride?” she asked.

“I did not know that this room was going to start moving.”

“It will stop soon.”

She heard Levi give a small sigh of relief when the doors opened.

As they walked through the halls, she realized, for the first time, how many curious stares the Amish had to endure in public places.

Her medical training had not been in pediatrics, but after they had scrubbed and donned hospital gowns, and after the nurse ushered them into the neonatal ICU, even Grace could see that Claire’s baby—a tiny scrap of humanity lying in a clear plastic bed—was fighting for his life. She heard Levi’s quick intake of breath when he saw the baby. He recovered quickly and approached the infant.

The rapid heartbeat displayed on the heart monitor grabbed her attention. She knew what a normal heartbeat should look like—and that electronic line was decidedly not normal.

“Hello, Daniel,” Levi said softly, oblivious to the ominous lines of the monitor. “Our mother has given you a good strong name.” He carefully caressed the infant’s tiny arm. “You will grow up to be a fine man. Someday I will teach you how to plant and harvest and how to recognize the meadowlark’s call. We will milk cows together—you and me and your
Bruders
. You have a sister, too, and she will be a little mother to you. You must get better,
Leiben.
You have a family who needs you.”

Grace watched, transfixed, as this man who had been a
complete stranger to her until a few hours ago began to sing softly. It was a strange-sounding song, and she didn’t understand a word, but his voice did not waver or go off-key. He acted utterly unembarrassed by his singing, seemingly unaware that anyone else was in the room except him and the struggling infant. The song sounded as though it came from the depths of his soul as he allowed the baby’s tiny fist to curl around one of his work-worn fingers.

The neonatal nurse was also listening and watching. She elbowed Grace and nodded meaningfully at the heart monitor.

Grace’s eyes widened at what she saw. The heart rate, which had been erratic when they entered the room, had become regular and steady.

She looked at the nurse questioningly.

“I’ve seen this before,” the nurse whispered. “Sometimes the sound of a father or mother’s voice can make a huge difference in a newborn’s response.”

“Levi is the child’s older brother, not his father.”

The nurse gave Levi an appraising look as he continued to sing the strange-sounding song. “Then that is one lucky baby.”

“Are you hungry, Levi?” Grace asked. “I’m going down to the cafeteria. I’ll bring you back something—or you can come with me if you want.”

He sat on a stool the nurse had brought in for him. Daniel seemed to be resting more comfortably now. Levi had stopped singing, but his throat was dry. The nurse had pointed out the lines to him on the monitor that showed the baby’s heartbeat. For now it was beating steadily, but he would watch it closely.

“I’m thirsty,” he said. “But I do not want to leave.”

“I’ll bring you something,” Grace offered. “What do you want? Coke? Sprite? Coffee?”

“Water.”

“Just water?”

“Yes.”

“No food?”

“No.”

Her face registered disappointment as she walked away. This puzzled him. He was trying to be as little trouble to her as possible. It was bad enough that she had been forced to drive him here. It was one thing to depend upon fellow Amish. It was an entirely different thing to have to rely upon an
Englisch
woman—and a virtual stranger at that.

He liked what he saw as she walked away—perhaps a little too much.

He reminded himself that it was a shameful thing for a woman to dress so immodestly, but he knew in her world she was dressed more modestly than many of the women he had seen around town, especially the young tourists who came in the summer.

He still didn’t like her short hair. Privately, he did not agree with the Swartzentruber expectations that a woman never cut her hair. His mother’s long hair caused her many headaches, and the washing and drying of it was an ordeal for her, but he did think that a woman should wear her hair longer than Grace did.

He tore his eyes away from her and gazed down at his baby brother. This was whom he had come for. This was who was important. His family. Not the
Englisch
woman who had come so quickly and efficiently to their aid.

As he held the tiny fingers that he believed would someday do so many good and productive things, he hoped that coming here with her today would not bring more trouble
down upon his head. Spending time in the company of a young
Englisch
woman could earn him a tongue-lashing from Bishop Weaver.

The question Grace had asked on the drive here still haunted him. Were he and his stepfather “close”?

He still did not know how to answer that question. Abraham had taken pains to teach him how to work, which was a valuable thing to give a boy. Sometimes his stepfather’s methods had been what many would consider brutal. However, solely because of Abraham, Levi possessed the knowledge, skills, and discipline a man needed to work a farm and support a family.

For these things he would be eternally grateful, but the fact remained, Abraham had been a harsh disciplinarian, and a difficult man to please.

Still, they had spent all day every day working together, eating meals together, living beneath the same roof together, worshipping together for many years. He had spent the biggest part of his life in his stepfather’s presence. The vacuum Abraham’s death would leave in all of their lives would be huge.

But were they close?

He did not think so. At least not in the mushy,
Englisch
way that Grace had meant.

Levi could hardly believe all that had happened in the past few hours. He had discovered
Daed
’s body, ridden to get help for his mother, made arrangements for his brothers’ and sister’s care, made his first trip to the city of Columbus—so many tall buildings!—and had to answer too many questions from a sheriff’s deputy.

Answering the deputy’s questions had made him extremely nervous. His people tried hard to avoid law officials. Allowing
Englisch
deputies to poke their noses into their business was a worrisome thing.

Except that now, he had no choice. The
Englisch
law had to get involved. They had even taken his stepfather’s body away for an autopsy. He did not understand the need, but the deputy had patiently explained that it was a legal necessity in cases of murder.

The deputy had spoken to him slowly, as though to a child, enunciating carefully, evidently thinking him dense in the head. There were those who acted like that around his people, but it was a sign of ignorance on their part. Just because his people were Swartzentruber did not mean they were dummkopfs.

It occurred to him that Grace had not done that. She had spoken to him as naturally as though he were just another
Englisch
person. That was rare and he wondered at it.

Which reminded him—he would have to remember to pay her for the car trip. At fifty cents a mile, which was the going rate for hiring an
Englisch
driver, he would owe her a little under forty dollars one way. Even though he had no intention of leaving Daniel and riding back home with her today, he would pay her for the return trip as well. He still had five twenty-dollar bills on him from a delivery of several specialty baskets he had made last week. Giving her eighty would leave him with only twenty dollars in his pocket, but he did not need a lot of money to sit beside his brother.