Patricia Davids - An Amish Harvest

This was her fault. “Why didn’t you come back? You said you only be gone for a little bit. I was stuck in that chair for ages.”

“I’m sorry about that. Forgive me. I thought you would call for me when you were ready to go back to bed. Let me help you up. Do you think you can stand, or should I fetch your father or one of your brothers?”

“I can do it. Get out of my way.”

“Very well.”

He heard her move aside. He gathered his legs under him and lurched to his feet. He would’ve fallen again if she hadn’t stepped in front of him and placed her hands on his chest.

“I’ve got you. Relax. Take a deep breath. Get your bearings.”

He tried, but it was hard to do with a woman holding him up. The flowery fragrance was from her hair. The top of her head came to his chin. Was her hair blond or pale brown? He couldn’t recall. He remembered her pale face streaked with tears at her husband’s funeral and the flash of gratitude in her eyes when she noticed the cedar panels in Walter’s coffin, but Samuel wasn’t sure if her eyes were blue or gray.

“Are you steady now?” She stepped back but kept a firm grip on his arms.

He was dizzy, but he wasn’t about to admit it to her. His hands still smarted. “I’m fine.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“This is funny to you, isn’t it?”

There was a slight pause, then she said, “Maybe just a little. The bed is four steps to your left.”

Determined not to give her anything else to laugh at, he shuffled in the direction of the bed until he felt the mattress against his leg. He sat down with a sigh. Gingerly lowering himself onto his side, he raised his feet. She was there helping lift them and slipping them under the covers.

“I hope you have learned your lesson,” she said sternly.

Was she really going to lecture him? “What lesson would that be?”

“It is less painful to ask for help.”

“It would’ve been less painful if I had stayed in bed in the first place.”

“I can see you are a glass half-empty kind of fellow. We will work on that.”

“I’m not sure I will survive any more of your lessons.”

“Why didn’t you call for me?”

“Why didn’t you return?”

“I didn’t realize how stubborn you are. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Not with me you won’t. As soon as my father comes in, he will take you home.”

“Something you don’t realize is how stubborn I can be, too. I’m not going anywhere. Your mother needs help. Whether you believe that or not. I am here to help her by looking after you. We got off to a bad start, Samuel. Let’s try to get along.”

“A bad start? You poured water on my sheets.”

“Only because you wouldn’t do as I asked. In the future, we will both have a better understanding of our limits.”

“Don’t get comfortable here. You’ll be leaving.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. It’s time for your pain pill. According to your father, the doctor wants you taking them every four to six hours. I’m sure you must need one now.”

He did, but he hated to admit it so he kept silent. She returned a few moments later and said, “Open wide.”

He did need something for the pain. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth and swallowed the pill with a long drink of water from the straw she held for him. “Danki.”

“I’m going to mark on your bandage with an ink pen. I promise to be careful.”

“Why?”

“I need to make sure the bleeding has stopped.”

“I’m bleeding?”

“Only a small amount through the bandages on your left hand. If I mark the edge of the bloodstain, then I can check in a little while and make sure it isn’t getting bigger.”

He braced himself for the task, but she completed it without hurting him. She straightened the bed and turned his pillow. The fresh coolness against his neck helped ease his tension.

“I’m going downstairs now. If you need anything, you can call for me, or you can make a loud thump on the floor again, whichever you prefer.”

“Nice to know you enjoyed seeing me fall on my face.”

“Actually, I didn’t get to see it. Give me some warning next time so I don’t miss it again.”

“Are you deliberately trying to make me angry?”

“Are you deliberately trying to make me out to be a cruel shrew?”

“I didn’t say you were cruel.”

“Oh, just a shrew.”

“You’re twisting my words!”

He heard her approach the bed. “Samuel, you will be fine in a very short time. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you will. This road to recovery is painful and frustrating, but it has an end. Your mother needs help and I need the job. Let’s not fight. If we carry on like this in public people will think we’re married.”

“We wouldn’t want people to think that.”

“Exactly.”

He hadn’t considered that she needed work. She was a widow and dependent on others for her livelihood. His conscience smote him. The Lord compelled men of faith to care for widows and orphans. “I can be civil if you can.”

“ Goot. We’ll get along fine, Sammy, as long as you do what I say.”

Just when he thought she was being sensible. “It’s Samuel. We’ll get along fine, Becky , if you listen to what I think before you decide what’s best for me.”

“Very well, we have a deal. You won’t regret it.”

Had he just agreed to her staying?

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.