The Doctor's Blessing. Patricia Davids

He said he didn’t want to talk about it. I never asked again.”

      “My father was killed in some third world country trying to rescue American citizens who’d been kidnapped.”

      “You must be very proud of him.”

      It was hard to be proud of an image on paper. Yet it had been the picture that led Phillip to his grandfather. Finding Harold had been like a gift from God.

      What Phillip still didn’t understand was why his mother had kept his grandfather’s existence a secret for more than thirty years. She’d been furious when he announced he had contacted Harold. She wouldn’t say why.

      Many of his questions about his father had been answered in the long phone conversations he and Harold had shared, but like his mother, Harold refused to talk about his relationship with his daughter-in-law. It seemed the reason for the family breakup might never come to light.

      Amber cleared her throat. “You wanted to talk to me?”

      Her voice broke his connection with the past and catapulted him into the present. Face-to-face with a task he knew would be distasteful.

      How was she going to take it? He hated scenes. His mother had made enough of them in his life.

      He lifted a stack of medical journals from a chair and added them to a precarious pile on the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

      When she did, Phillip hesitated a few seconds, but quickly decided there was no point beating around the bush. Pulling out his grandfather’s chair, he sat behind the desk and faced her. “I’ve been doing some research on Ohio midwifery.”

      A look of surprise brightened her eyes. “That’s great. It’s very important that I resume my practice as soon as possible. I have four patients due this month. Without Harold available, I’ve had to send them to a clinic that’s twenty miles from here. That’s a hardship for families who travel by horse and buggy. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be getting back to my real work.”

      He hated knowing he was about to crush her excitement. “You have a collaborative practice agreement only with my grandfather, is that correct?”

      “Yes, but I can easily modify the agreement, listing you as my primary backup. I’ll print off a copy ASAP. You can sign it and I can start seeing patients again.”

      “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

      A puzzled look replaced the happiness on her face. Then she relaxed and nodded. “Yes, you can. In this state, I’m not required to partner with an OB/GYN. I can legally work with a Family Practice physician.”

      “I’m aware of that. I’m telling you I won’t sign such an agreement. I strongly believe the safest place for a woman to labor, give birth and recover is in a hospital or a well-equipped birthing center near a hospital.”

      Amber shot to her feet. “Are you serious? Do you know what this means?”

      Sitting forward, he steepled his fingers together. “It means you can’t legally deliver babies or treat patients as a midwife unless you agree to do so in a hospital.”

      It took less than a second for the storm brewing behind her stunning eyes to erupt. She leaned forward and braced her arms on the desktop. Each word could have cut stone. “Your grandfather and I have worked diligently to get the Amish women in this community to use a certified nurse-midwife instead of an illegal lay midwife. There are still numerous Amish midwives practicing under the radar in this area. Some of them are highly skilled, but some are not. I have the equipment and training to handle emergencies that arise. I’m well qualified. I’ve delivered over five hundred babies.”

      “All without complications?”

      Her outrage dimmed. Caution replaced it. “There have been a few problems. I carry a cell phone and can get emergency services quickly if they’re needed.”

      “I’m sorry, this isn’t open for discussion. As long as I’m here, there will be no home deliveries. However, I’d like you to remain as my office nurse. We’ll talk later about you handling hospital deliveries.”

      Pushing off his desk, she crossed her arms. “Does Harold know you’re shutting down my practice?”

      He thought he was being patient with her, but now he glared back. “I don’t intend to worry my grandfather with the day-to-day running of the office nor should you. His recovery depends on decreasing his stress level.”

      “Oh, rest assured, I won’t go tattle to him. But you’re making a big mistake. You can’t change the way the Amish live by dictating to them. If I’m not doing home deliveries, someone else less qualified will.”

      Spinning on her heels, she marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

      Clenching his jaw, Phillip sat back. He had hoped Miss Bradley would be reasonable about this. It seemed he was mistaken. Too bad. He wasn’t about to back down on this issue. No matter what the lovely nurse-midwife wanted.

      Chapter Three

      “If that man thinks I’m gonna lay down and take this, he has another think coming!”

      Three days after her first unhappy meeting with Phillip, Amber was still fuming. They had been working together getting the clinic back up and running full-time, but things remained tense. He refused to alter his stance on home births.

      Amber sat at a back booth in the Shoofly Pie Café with her friend, Katie Lantz, across from her. Katie was dressed in the traditional Plain style with a solid green dress, white apron and a white organdy prayer kapp covering her dark hair. Amber knew outsiders would never suspect Katie had once lived in the English world. The room was empty except for the two women.

      “What can you do about it?” Katie’s lilting voice carried a rich Pennsylvania Dutch accent. She took a sip of hot tea from a heavy white mug.

      “I’m thinking.” Amber drummed her fingers on the red Formica tabletop.

      “You’ll lose your license if you deliver babies, ja?”

      “Ja. Unless I find another doctor who’ll support me.”

      Katie brightened. “Why not ask Dr. Drake over in Haydenville?”

      “Because Doctor Drake, great doctor that she is, is a DO, a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine. The state requires my backup to be a Family Practice physician or OB/GYN. Most clinics and MDs won’t partner with a midwife who does home births. They don’t want to pay the huge malpractice insurance fees that go along with it. Dr. Harold is one of the few physicians who’ll take the risk.”

      “Because the Amish do not sue.”

      “Right.”

      “This is not so easy a problem to solve.” Katie tapped her lower lip with one finger.

      Propping an elbow on the table, Amber settled her chin on her hand. “I wish I could talk to Harold about it.”

      “Why can’t you? It is his office. He should have some say in how it is being run.”

      “The last thing he needs is to hear his beloved long-lost grandson and I are at loggerheads. In that respect, Phillip is right. Harold doesn’t need more stress. When he’s better and comes home, things will get back to normal. In the meantime, I’ll keep looking for a doctor who’ll partner with me. Until then, I’ll have to bear with Dr. Phillip while I work on changing his mind.”

      “I have met your doctor. He had lunch here yesterday. He’s a handsome man.”

      Amber rolled her eyes. “Is he handsome? I hadn’t noticed.”

      “For an Englisher, he’s not bad. Those dark eyes are hot.”

      “They’re blue, and a good Amish woman should not say a man is ‘hot.’”

      Katie giggled. “I am Amish,