Hidden Mercies (31 page)

Henry’s eyes took on a hungry look. “Rose has four hundred dollars?”

That’s when he hit him, with every last ounce of strength he had. Pain had never felt so satisfying as the sting he felt in his knuckles as Henry went down.

“Henry?” Rose appeared in the doorway of the barn. “Is that true?”

Tom half expected her to rush to her husband’s aid, but Rose was beyond that. Instead, she walked over and stood looking down at him.

“I came out to see if you two were ready for dessert,” she said.

Henry sat up and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Is this true, Henry? Are the children and I losing our home because you gambled it away?”

“I—I had some debts.”

“I just bet you did,” Tom said.

Henry stood up, took a handkerchief out of his pocket, and dabbed at the cut on his mouth.

“Where have you been going?” Rose asked. “Where does an Amish man who should be home putting in crops go in order to gamble?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Henry said. “It was the horses.”

“The horses?” she asked. “What about the horses?”

“I know horses. You know that. I’ve always known horses. An
Englisch
friend took me to Scioto Downs over near Columbus awhile back. He thought I might know horses well enough that I could help him place some bets.”

“You lost everything betting on horses?” Tom was incredulous.

“No. Scioto Downs has a casino, too.” Henry’s eyes took on that faraway look. “Video games, slot machines, cards, you name it.” He snapped to and seemed to realize that he had a wife listening to him rhapsodize. “I plan on getting it back, Rose. Honest. I was just on a losing streak there for a while. Tom says Claire gave you some money. If I could borrow some of it, I’m sure I could . . .”

Rose turned on her heel and walked away. A few minutes later, he and Henry heard buggy wheels crunching over gravel as she pulled out onto the road with the children.

“It’s five miles to my house,” Henry said. “Who’s going to take me home?”

“Heck if I know,” Tom said. “Maybe you should call a gambling buddy. One thing for sure—it’s not going to be me or Claire.”

•   •   •

“Henry told you that?” Claire was incredulous. “Scioto Downs? Horse racing? Casinos? What kind of Amish man loses his family’s home by gambling?”

“My guess is probably not a very good one.”

It was late. Now that the children were in bed, they could freely discuss what had happened. He had watched Claire wrestle with what to tell the children when they asked why Henry was walking home. Finally, she’d simply told them the truth. He liked that about her.

“At least we know now what was going on.”

“Do you think Rose will leave him?”

“Leave him? Of course not. Don’t you remember what you were taught as a child? Divorce is not an option? But I would not want to be Henry when he gets back inside that house.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“Now that Rose knows what Henry has been involved in, she will go to the bishop and the church leaders will get involved.”

“Will they intervene with the sale of the house?”

“Not as long as the children and Rose have shelter. It would take a great deal of money to save their property, and if Henry does not feel the true sting of loss, he may never seek to make a change within himself. I have heard that a gambling addiction is a powerful thing.”

“Henry will need real help. Some sort of a recovery program. He might even have to get some in-house treatment,” Tom said. “Will your bishop allow such a thing?”

“Our bishop?” Claire said. “Not only will Bishop Schrock allow it—to save one of our families, he would take money out of his own pocket to pay for it.”

I
t was almost dark when he saw it. He was coming home from the grocery store Monday evening, and saw someone sitting in the weeds beside the road, less than a mile from his apartment. He stopped the car and walked over to investigate. He was shocked when he saw that it was a young woman, and she appeared to be exceedingly pregnant.

Was this perhaps one of Claire’s patients? Walking to see her and overcome with labor pains?

“Are you all right?” he asked.

It was a stupid thing to say. Of course she wasn’t all right. She was sitting in the weeds beside the road and was at least eight months pregnant, if not more. She was a tiny thing, and her belly was so large in comparison to her body, it was almost grotesque.

One thing was for sure, she was not Amish. Dirty blond hair. A brightly colored tie-dyed top. Filthy white shorts, and lime-green flip-flops. A tattoo adorned her ankle. It was of a snake. Nope. Definitely not Amish.

“Do you need help?” he asked. “Can I call someone?”

She tried to stand up, and he helped steady her.

“The bus left me off in Mt. Eaton. I caught a ride to Mt. Hope. I’m trying to get to my parents’ house, but I don’t think this baby is going to wait.”

The only thing he could think to do was get her to Claire’s as fast as possible. Claire was a mile away, the nearest hospital maybe a half hour. He knew she would be home because she had told him this morning she planned on canning green beans all day.

“There’s a midwife two minutes from here. Claire Shetler. I’m going to take you to her.”

“Levi’s
maam
?”

“Yes.” He was puzzled. What could this ragged-looking
Englisch
woman possibly know about Levi and his mother?

“Okay.”

He helped her into the backseat of his car, one side of which held two full grocery sacks. A package of cookies peeked out of one. He saw her eying it, hungrily.

“Help yourself,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

The woman’s features were nearly as beautiful as Maddy’s, but that was where the comparison ended. Where Maddy had a look of youth and purity, this woman had led a hard life.

She tore open the package of cookies and wolfed them down, one after another, crumbs falling unheeded all over her and his car.

Then she grabbed her belly and let out a groan.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m either in labor or I’ve got some really bad cramps.”

He laid on the horn as he rounded the corner to Claire’s and kept it blaring as he pulled into the driveway. He had never been so grateful in his life to see anyone as he was when Claire came running up to the car.

“What on earth is wrong?” Then she saw that he had a passenger in the backseat. “Oh!”

“This woman is half starved and in labor,” he said. “I found her sitting along the side of the road.”

“She wanted to see me?” Claire sounded confused. “I have no
Englisch
clients.”

“She was trying to get to her parents. I was the one who suggested we come here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

The young woman was in the throes of another contraction when Claire opened the car door.

“It’s okay,” Claire soothed as she stroked the girls hair away from her face. “It’s . . . .” She froze, staring, aghast. “Zillah?” Her voice rose high in astonishment.

“Can you call
Daadi
and
Mommi
?” the girl asked. “I want to see them again—really bad.”

“Help me get her inside, Tom.”

Albert, Jesse, Sarah, and Amy were playing Hearts in the front room. Maddy was sewing a dress on the treadle machine. Daniel was playing with building blocks on the floor. The games and the sewing machine stopped and they all gaped as he and Claire half carried the disheveled girl into the house and to the couch. Even Daniel seemed subdued by the hubbub.

“Maddy,” Claire commanded. “Go out to the phone shanty and call Grace. Tell her we need her. Then call Bishop Schrock. His wife can hear the phone from her house. They are neighbors to Bishop Weaver and his wife and will know what to do.”

“Who is Bishop Weaver?” Maddy asked.

“He’s Zillah’s father and bishop of the Swartzentruber church that Levi and I used to belong to before you came to live with us. Tell them that Zillah is here and is asking for her parents. Whatever you do, don’t tell him she’s pregnant. I don’t know if he’ll come if he knows that—and I think it might be very important for him to get here.”

Maddy was out the door like a shot.

Tom helped Zillah lie back against the couch pillows as Claire pulled off the flip-flops. He couldn’t help but notice the
girl’s filthy feet against the clean couch, but that appeared to be the least of Claire’s worries. She seemed to be focused on the puffiness of the girl’s feet and ankles.

“How far along are you?” Claire asked.

“I don’t know.” Zillah panted from the exertion of the last contraction. “Pretty far, I guess.”

“When was the last time you saw a doctor?”

“I never saw a doctor.”

“At all?”

Zillah shook her head.

“Albert, go get my midwife bag,” Claire said. “Jesse, take Sarah and Daniel outside. Keep them there. Do you understand?”

“Ja.”
Jesse did not hesitate. He quickly herded his little brother and sister outside.

“Here.” Albert had brought his mother’s midwife bag.

She grabbed a stethoscope out of her bag and frowned as she listened to the girl’s heart. Then she grabbed a blood pressure cuff, pumped it up, and listened as she slowly let the air out. Her face grew pale.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She ripped the blood pressure cuff off.

“How fast can you get us to the hospital?”

“A half hour if the roads are clear. More if I get behind too many buggies.”

“We have to go.” She tossed the cuffs and stethoscope into her bag. “Now.”

At that moment, Grace came running in with Levi beside her. They stopped in their tracks, apparently as stunned as Claire when she first saw the girl.

“Zillah!” Grace exclaimed.

“What are
you
doing here?” Zillah said.

Levi turned on his heel and left the room.

Claire put her arm around Zillah and gave Grace a meaningful look. “Come on, honey. We need to get you to the hospital. Please stand up for me.”

Before his eyes, he saw Grace shake off her shock and turn into a professional. “What do you know so far, Claire?”

“Full term. She’s never seen a doctor.”

She managed to get Zillah to her feet. Grace got beneath the girl’s other arm, supporting her.

“I brought the baby home for
Maam
and
Daed.
I want them to keep it.” Then Zillah staggered and went into another teeth-clenching contraction. When it was over, she gasped for breath before she said. “I don’t want it.”

“BP?” Grace asked. Claire answered that it was 220 over 130.

“Oh no!” Grace said under her breath.

“Levi!” Grace shouted. “Come back in here and help us lift her. Tom, bring the car as close to the house as you can. Maddy, grab an armload of clean towels, a sheet, anything you can find. Hurry!”

Tom rushed to bring the car right up to the house. He saw the women half carrying Zillah out to the porch. Then, at Grace’s direction, Levi swept Zillah up in his arms and carried her down the porch stairs.

“I loved you,” Zillah said, her arms wrapped around Levi’s neck. “If you’d married me like I wanted, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“You never loved anyone on earth but yourself,” Levi said with disgust, as he deposited her in the backseat.

It all came together now. He remembered Levi telling him, while they were working on the tractor together, about the bishop’s daughter with the strange name who had tried to force him into marriage by pretending to be pregnant by him. The Swartzentruber church and her father had taken her word over Levi’s. It had ultimately caused him to leave the
church altogether—which had precipitated Claire’s departure as well.

Grace climbed in beside Zillah. Claire sat backward on the front seat, leaning over the back to help Grace.

“Drive!” Grace commanded.

He spun gravel getting out of there.

“Try not to tense up, Zillah. Relax. Breathe.” Claire was right beside his ear, coaching the girl. “Like this.” Claire began to pant, demonstrating. “Short, shallow breaths. That’s it. You are doing so good.”

He concentrated hard on the road, driving so much faster than was safe. Praying hard that there would be no Swartzentruber buggy somewhere up ahead, practically invisible in the dark due to their rigid rules against reflective triangles or battery-operated lights.

Whether it was prayer, or the fact that no courting buggies were usually out on a Monday evening, he had nearly a clear shot all the way to Millersburg—having to swerve only once to avoid hitting a man riding horseback. The man had been wise enough to hang a couple of battery-operated blinking lights on his saddle. Claire nearly ended up in his lap, something he would welcome under other circumstances—but not tonight.

He heard a newborn cry, but could not allow himself to take his eyes off the road.

Guttural noises filled the car as Zillah strained.

“There’s a second baby!” Grace cried. “Here, take the first one, Grace.”

“I thought I heard two heartbeats, but I wasn’t sure,” Claire said.

“You’re doing good, Zillah,” Claire encouraged. “We’re almost there.”

“Here comes the next one,” Grace cried. “Oh, she has a little girl and a little boy!”

A few seconds later, Claire turned around and sat facing the front with a naked, wet newborn baby in each arm.

“One more big push, Zillah,” Grace said. “Then you’re done, sweetie.”

“I’m not your sweetie.” Zillah then gave a loud grunt.

He tried not to think of the mess that was no doubt in his backseat right now. His job was to get them there safely, not worry about hygiene.

“Here are the towels Maddy put in.” Claire threw two faded, clean towels over the seat.

With two babies squalling, Claire had to juggle to wrap each one in a towel. While the afterbirth was being expelled in the backseat of his new car, Tom just tried not to wreck it.

The babies, expertly wrapped into tiny terry-cloth cocoons, settled down. He heard the blood pressure cuff being pumped up again in the backseat, and then heard it being ripped off.