An Amish Harvest. Patricia Davids

       Chapter Three

      Rebecca almost laughed when Samuel opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut again. He wasn’t used to losing arguments. He was a man used to getting his own way.

      Goot. He needed to find that inner strength again. If irritation with her brought it to life that was fine. He would most likely speak with his father later, but for now, she had the upper hand. But the upper hand wasn’t what she was here for. She was here to help him get better and to cope with his injuries.

      Maybe she should try seeing things from his perspective. Taking care of Emil Troyer had taught her a lot about the ways blind people coped. She closed her eyes, turned around once and tried to cross the room without losing her sense of balance. She quickly became disoriented. No wonder Samuel was insecure and fearful. Without the use of his hands to feel his way around, he was twice as blind. His fall had reinforced his belief that he needed to stay in bed. It was a setback to be sure, but she wasn’t willing to let him.

      She had an idea. “How are your elbows?”

      “What kind of question is that?”

      “Are your elbows burned like your hands? Are they bandaged? I can’t tell under your pajama sleeves.”

      “My elbows are fine. So are my knees. Would you like to see me crawl on them?”

      “Maybe later.” She crossed to the wall and tried using her elbows to help keep her balance and find her way. As she suspected, keeping one elbow or her shoulder in contact with the wall made moving easier.

      “You are nuts,” Samuel muttered.

      She ignored his comment and returned to his bedside. “I’m going to suggest that you keep one elbow against the wall when you move around the room. It will help you maintain your balance and give you something to lean on if you feel dizzy. It won’t help you cross an open room, but it will allow you to get up and move around without someone with you.”

      “I’m not going to be moving around my room.”

      “Of course you will be. Several times a day, in fact, but you’ve done enough for today. I’ll bring your supper up after your brother has helped you bathe.”

      “You are not going to spoon-feed me,” he muttered.

      Her resolve weakened in the face of his embarrassment. It had to be hard to depend on others for every aspect of his care. It must be doubly humiliating to have a strange woman telling him what to do. Still, she was here to do a job and that job was to get Samuel well. Coddling wouldn’t help him.

      “Would you rather lick it off the plate like a dog? I guess that will work, but it might get the bandages on your face dirty not to mention my clean sheets. If that’s the plan, I’ll have your brother wait until after supper to bathe you.”

      “Go away. You’re making me crazy.”

      That was better. There was more life in his voice. “I’m going. All you have to do is ask. Verna Yoder was right for a change. You are a cranky patient.”

      “I haven’t spoken a word to Verna Yoder. Why would she say I’m cranky? And why are you gossiping about me? Who else is gossiping about me?”

      “Samuel, you know full well if Verna Yoder is talking about you, everyone has heard what she has to say. The woman would gossip with a tree stump.”

      “She would be cranky, too, if she’d been through what I’ve been through.”

      “On that we can agree. She isn’t one to suffer in silence. But, we shouldn’t speak disparagingly of her. She is a member of our church and we must accept her, flaws and all, as a child of God. I’m sorry for my unkind thoughts, as I’m sure you are, too.”

      “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself so you can’t share them with Verna and who knows who else.”

      She laughed outright. “Smart man.”

      A grunt was his only reply.

      She softened her tone. “Do not fear. I will spread the word that you are a wunderbarr patient, Samuel. Easy to care for and sweet natured. Everyone will know you as kind and good-natured with never a cross word to be said about anyone.”

      A twitch at the corner of his mouth could have been a smile. “Then you’ll be guilty of lying.”

      “I think not. Is there anything you need before I go finish the laundry?”

      “My eyesight restored.”

      She heard the fear underlying his words even as he tried to make a joke out of it. “If God wills it, Samuel, it shall happen. Many people are praying for you.”

      “We both know prayers aren’t always answered.”

      A stab of familiar pain took her breath away. Her prayers for Walter’s recovery had gone unanswered, but in the last days of his illness, she finally understood that she had been praying for the wrong thing. “Our prayers are answered if we ask to humbly accept God’s will, Samuel.”

      “I’m not sure I can do that. Not until I understand why this happened to me.”

      She understood his despair and confusion. He felt betrayed. She had, too. “Why did He call my husband home so soon? I have no answer for that or for your injury. We must not question His will. We must accept that His plan is greater than we can see.”

      “Since I can’t see at all, that won’t be hard.”

      He was determined to look on the gloomy side of things. She would tolerate that for a while, but not for long. “God was merciful to you, Samuel. I’m surprised you don’t see that. Your clothes didn’t catch fire. You could have been burned everywhere.”

      “I had a large leather apron on over my clothes and wide leather cuffs over my sleeves to keep them from getting caught in the lathe. They protected my arms and body. I don’t know that God was looking out for me.”

      “How can you say that? Who prompted you to put on your apron and cuffs that morning? I am sorry this happened to you, Samuel. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like. I’m sure the pain is hard to bear, but not knowing if you will see again must be deeply frightening.”

      * * *

      Samuel pressed his lips tightly together. He didn’t want to talk about fear or the future. Changing the subject, he said, “I’m sorry you lost your husband.”

      Rebecca was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, “Danki.”

      Samuel heard the tightness in her voice. So it was still hard for her to speak about Walter. She must have loved him very much. Samuel didn’t want to feel sorry for her, but he did.

      “I never thanked you for adding the cedar panels to Walter’s coffin. It was a kind touch. How did you know he liked the smell of cedarwood?”

      “I once saw him admiring a cedar trinket box at our shop. He kept opening it and inhaling with a funny little smile on his face.”

      “I love the smell of cedar, too. It had a special meaning for us. Did he buy the box?”

      “He didn’t, but he told me he might be back for it. Later that same day, a tourist stopped in and purchased it. Walter came back the next day and I had to tell him it was gone. I made another one but he never came back to the shop. I learned later that he had taken sick. I should have brought it by the house, but I didn’t.”

      Had Walter been planning to buy it for her? Samuel wanted to ask what special meaning the scent held for them, but decided against it. It was much too personal a question. He didn’t want to start liking this bossy tyrant. He didn’t want to hear about her feelings for her husband, or how she survived his loss. He just wanted to be left alone with his own misery. “I’m tired now.”