A Love For Lizzie. Tracey J. Lyons

      Turning to look over his shoulder, Paul seemed to ponder her question and then said, “Lizzie, is your vader down at the barn?”

      “Ja, he is supposed to be. Why do you ask?”

      “Because there appears to be about half a dozen cows on this side of the fence.”

      “That is strange.” She opened the door, stepping out to join Paul on the porch. “I think we should go see what’s going on.”

      Tucking the bag into her apron pocket, she hurried along with him down the graveled pathway, across the driveway and to the barn, where they both stopped in front of the open door. Lizzie could see at least a dozen cows wandering about the yard surrounding the building. She turned to look up at Paul, whose gaze followed in the same direction as hers.

      “Something’s wrong. “There’s no way your vader would let the cows roam free.”

      A shiver raced along her spine as she stepped behind him, following him into the dark coolness of the same building where her brother had plunged to his death ten years ago today. Sucking in a deep breath, Lizzie tried to swallow the panic welling up inside her.

      “Vader! Are you in here?” Lizzie called out.

      They stopped in the center of the large expanse. Sunlight streamed in through the slats of wood on the outside walls. Off to one side were the feed bins. There was no sign of her vader here.

      “I think we should check the milking parlor,” Lizzie said, putting her hand on Paul’s arm, guiding him forward.

      Thick dust motes stirred through the air as they made their way to the back of the building, where the milking parlor was located. Lizzie rubbed the end of her nose. The hay dust always made her want to sneeze. She held her breath, waiting for the sensation to pass. When it did, she took in a soft breath. Paul held the door to the parlor open, then nodded, indicating she could enter first.

      “Ach! Nee!” Lizzie covered her hands over her face, not wanting to believe that what she was seeing in front of her could be real. Quickly she dropped her hands to her side and ran to where her vader lay on the cement floor, silent and still.

      * * *

      Paul pushed his way into the room, not that far behind Lizzie. His heart thudded in his chest when he saw Joseph Miller lying on his back on the floor. Even from the distance of a few feet away, Paul could see the ashen color of the man’s skin. He took in a breath and then gently but quickly moved Lizzie to one side so he could check on her vader’s condition. Kneeling beside Joseph, Paul placed his fingers alongside the man’s neck, feeling the area where the carotid artery lay.

      “Is he...?” Lizzie’s voice was barely a whisper.

      Paul held up his free hand, silencing her. He needed to concentrate. He moved his fingers up and down the side of the man’s neck. At first he felt nothing, but then he felt a very faint throb. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

      “Lizzie, I need you to run up to the phone shack and call 911. Tell them you think your vader has suffered a heart attack.” Even as Paul said the words, he couldn’t be sure that was what had happened, but it would get the ambulance to arrive faster. “Tell them he is breathing, but it’s very shallow.”

      He glanced up to find her still standing in the milking parlor, as if frozen in time. Tears rolled down her face, and her hands were knotted together in front of her apron. He could see her trembling. If her vader were to survive, Paul needed her help.

      “Lizzie!” Hoping to jolt her into action, he shouted her name. “Lizzie! You need to go. Now!” Immediately Lizzie ran out the barn door.

      The next few minutes were a blur. Joseph Miller lay on the hard floor of the barn, still as the air before a summer storm. Paul grew even more worried. He jostled the man’s shoulder, calling out his name.

      “Joseph! Can you hear me? Joseph!”

      The man’s eyelids fluttered and then stilled. Paul stayed beside the man, praying for his healing. The ambulance arrived, and after the paramedic did a quick assessment, he determined that Joseph needed to be transported immediately to the hospital in Jamestown, thirty miles away. Lizzie’s mother, who’d been out running errands, came barreling toward the barn.

      Pushing through the small circle of emergency responders, she cried out, “Paul! What’s happening?”

      He looked into eyes the same light blue color as Lizzie’s. He saw Susan Miller’s fear for her husband’s health. Quietly he answered, “Mrs. Miller, I can’t be sure. But the paramedic thinks it could be a heart attack.”

      The woman let out a sob and rushed alongside the gurney. Her midcalf-length black skirt flapped against her legs. “Joseph! Joseph!” she called out to her husband.

      A younger medic caught up with her. “I can let you ride with your husband, but I need you to sit in the front. Do you think you can do that?” he asked.

      Susan nodded, casting a glance around the tall man until her gaze found Lizzie. “Lizzie! I need you to come.”

      “I’m afraid we can only take one family member.”

      Lizzie’s mamm looked as if she were about to burst into tears. Paul watched as she tucked her lower lip between her teeth, squared her shoulders and nodded at the man. Her hands trembled as she reached for the door.

      Paul helped her into the front seat of the ambulance, making sure she had the seat belt firmly in place. “I’ll see that she gets to the hospital.”

      “Run down to Helen Meyer’s haus. Maybe she can help you get Lizzie to the hospital,” Lizzie’s mamm said.

      “We need to get going,” the driver said, putting the rig in gear.

      Paul shut the door. Lizzie’s mother smiled nervously from behind the window and nodded as they drove away.

      Paul knew what had to be done. He would get Lizzie to the hospital. How could he not?

      After the ambulance left, Paul realized he couldn’t take the wagon into Jamestown. The trip would take a few hours by horse, and he couldn’t be sure Lizzie’s vader would survive. They needed to get there as quickly as possible. As Mrs. Miller suggested, he ended up running down to find their Englisch neighbor Helen Meyers, who was standing at the end of her driveway.

      “I just saw the ambulance leave the Millers’. What’s going on?”

      “It looks like Joseph might have had a heart attack,” Paul responded. Before he could even ask, she graciously offered to take them to the hospital.

      “It was a blessing that I filled up my gas tank this morning.”

      Paul nodded politely. “I’ll repay you for the gas.”

      “There’s no need for that.” She hastened to give him a smile. “We’re neighbors and, Englischer or Plain, neighbors help each other out. Let’s hurry—we don’t want to keep Lizzie waiting.”

      He followed her to the back of the driveway and got into the passenger seat of the blue four-door sedan. They found Lizzie standing along the edge of the road, near the Millers’ mailbox. Paul got out and opened the back door, letting Lizzie slide across the seat first. He joined her, barely closing the door before Mrs. Meyers sped off.

      Paul turned his head to look at Lizzie. He could see the tight lines around her mouth. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead.

      He started to reach out his hand to cover hers but thought better of it. Even though years had passed since the tragedy that shook the Miller family, there were days when Lizzie still seemed so fragile to him. Today would have been a rough day even without her vader’s heart attack.

      “Today is the day my bruder died, and my vader suffers from a heart attack. I don’t understand the workings