Leah's Choice. Emma Miller

asked a teenage girl for help. She’d studied English in school and was able to understand why Matthew was crying. Somehow, the girl had seen the brochure, read the address, and given his little brother a ride back to the B&B on the back of her bike.

       “Lucky,” the policeman had said, when Daniel’s parents had reported Matthew as safe.

       “Not lucky, but blessed,” Mother had insisted.

       Daniel hoped that Joey Beachy would be just as blessed. He was even younger than Matthew had been, and the family still talked about the incident. Daniel missed his family, but he missed his little brother most of all. This would have been Matthew’s senior year in high school, but he’d moved to Canada with their mother, father and the three girls. Daniel hoped he’d have time to visit with them before he left for his new assignment.

       Lightning flashed, closer this time, and Daniel felt a little better when they left the trees. The batteries in his flashlight were growing weaker, however, and the beam was a pale yellow light. “I think it’s going out,” he said to Leah, tapping the flashlight against his leg.

       “Don’t worry,” she said. “Mine’s good.”

       As if on cue, his flashlight went out. He smacked it against his leg, but it wouldn’t come back on.

       “It’s okay. We’re almost there.” She pointed with her flashlight, and Daniel made out a dark outline of a wooden gate in the tall grass.

       “I see it,” he shouted, shoving his useless flashlight into his jacket pocket. He didn’t have much hope that little Joey would be this far from the house, but once the worst of the storm passed, maybe they could double-back to continue their search.

       They dashed the last few yards to the shelter. Leah shone her flashlight on the wooden gate and Daniel tugged it open. The first thing that he saw when he stepped into the shed was the pale frightened face of a small boy looking up at him.

       “Joey!” Leah cried.

       Little Joey Beachy sat on the ground with his arms around a shaggy brown-and-white goat. His eyes were red and swollen from crying; streaks trailed down his dirty cheeks. When he saw Leah, a cascade of fresh tears began to flow.

       “Joey,” Leah crooned, setting her flashlight on a bale of hay. She dropped to her knees and gathered the child into her arms. “What are you doing here?” she murmured. “Your mam is so worried. Everyone’s been hunting for you.”

       Joey began to sob. Daniel couldn’t understand what he was saying because the boy was speaking Pennsylvania Dutch. Leah switched to that language as well, leaving Daniel at a loss. He glanced around the low shed. It was too dark to see much, but the roof was sound, and it was a relief to be out of the downpour.

       The goat got up and began bleating pitifully. Daniel didn’t know much about goats, but this one sounded as if it was in distress. Daniel’s wet coat clung to him. It was so soaked through that it gave little protection against the cold, so he took it off and draped it over a bale of hay. Then another sound, a feeble high-pitched squeak, caught his attention.

       Leah must have heard the noise as well, because she turned her flashlight toward the source. Nestled in the hay was a baby goat. Daniel hadn’t noticed it before because it was black and nearly hidden in the shadows. The larger goat nosed at the little one, looked back at her midsection and began to bleat again.

       Daniel didn’t need translation. As an RN, he’d had a rotation in maternity at Rutherford General Hospital. He hadn’t seen any pregnant goats there, but he’d helped deliver a lot of babies. And now that he looked at the brown-and-white goat closely, he could see that her belly was still swollen. She’d just given birth to the little black kid but was obviously carrying a second one.

       Leah hugged Joey and stood him on his feet, wiping under his eyes with her thumbs. “He said that he got separated from his brother and sister and a wolf chased him.”

       “A wolf?”

       She shrugged, but her eyes twinkled. “He said he ran to the shelter to get away from the wolf and found the goat here.”

       Joey nodded and started talking again in Pennsylvania Dutch.

       “English,” Leah reminded him.

       “The baby. I didn’t want the wolf to get it,” the boy said. “Then it was night and…and…” A rattle of Dutch followed.

       “He was afraid of the storm,” Leah finished. “And he couldn’t leave the goats. The doe is having trouble.”

       Daniel nodded. “I think there’s a second kid.”

       “Probably,” she agreed.

       Daniel picked up her flashlight and shone the beam around the shed, seeing that the roof slanted toward the back. Bales of sweet-smelling hay were stacked against the far wall, making the shelter feel snug and almost warm.

       “So he stayed here all this time with the goats?” Daniel asked.

       “He was afraid the wolves would kill them. It was probably the wild dogs I was telling you about.” She rubbed the boy’s arm, said something in Pennsylvania Dutch again, then continued speaking to Daniel in English. “A goat can usually drive off a single dog, but not a pack. Joey was smart to stay here where it was safe.”

       The mother goat began to paw the floor and bleat. Leah walked over to the goat and ran her hands over its belly. “I think the twin kid might be stuck,” she said. “The first one is already dry. This one should have been born by now.” She bit down on her lower lip. “I wish my sister, Miriam, was here. She’d know what to do.” She looked up at Daniel. “She’s really good with animals.”

       “Can you hold her?” Daniel asked, putting the flashlight back on the bale of hay. He dug into the deep pockets of his jacket and pulled out a pair of latex gloves he always carried. “If you can hold her still, I can examine her.”

       Joey said something in Pennsylvania Dutch.

       “He wants to know if you know about goats.”

       “Not so much about goats,” Daniel admitted. “But I’m a nurse. I know about babies. Goats can’t be much different, can they?” He couldn’t see Leah’s face in the shadows, but he sensed that she was looking at him in a different way.

       “You’re a nurse?” she asked softly. “I thought nurses were women.”

       “Not all nurses.” This shed wasn’t the ideal spot for a delivery. He was used to the sterile conditions of a hospital. He put his hands on the goat and she squealed and tried to get away.

       “Wait,” Leah grabbed her flashlight off the bale of hay and handed it to the boy. “Hold it steady, Joey. I’ll hold the doe.” She slipped her arms around the goat’s neck and pushed against its front legs with her knee. To Daniel’s surprise, the doe’s legs folded under her and she lay down on the hay-strewn floor.

       With Leah holding the animal still, it was much easier for him to run his hands along its abdomen. “I think I see the problem,” he said. “One of the kid’s legs is twisted back, keeping it from being born.”

       “Is there anything you can do to help?” Leah asked softly.

       Daniel liked the way she remained calm. He could imagine what the reaction of most girls would be, but she was different, more mature…sensible. He found he liked Leah Yoder more and more as the night wore on.

       “If you can keep her still, I think I can wiggle that leg free and…yes, there it comes!”

       The goat leaped to her feet and a moment later, another kid slipped out into the straw on the floor. The baby was still encased in the birth sac, a clear bubble; it wasn’t moving. Daniel pulled the membrane away from the nose and mouth, and began to rub the tiny body.

       “Is it dead?” Joey asked, holding on to Leah’s raincoat.

       The mother