Emma Miller - Leah's Choice

“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 goat nosed the kid.

Daniel kept massaging the baby. Lifting the head, he scooped out the mouth and wiped the nose clean. “He’s tired, poor little thing,” Daniel explained softly. He picked up a handful of hay and began to rub the damp hide briskly. “Sometimes, all it takes is—”

The baby choked, coughed and let out a wail. The doe pushed past Daniel and began to lick her second newborn. In minutes, the tiny newborn was on its feet and jostling the older twin for a turn at the mother’s teats.

“You saved them,” Leah said, getting to her feet. “I didn’t think…”

“Ya,” Joey agreed, returning the flashlight to Leah. “You saved them.” He knelt beside the little goats and petted first one and then the other.

“The mother might have been able to deliver it.” Daniel didn’t want to appear to take too much credit for doing what he’d been trained to do. But secretly, he was thrilled. He’d felt that way whenever he’d seen a new life come into the world. It never failed to strengthen his faith in God. How could anyone watch a newborn take a deep breath, look around and not see God’s wonderful plan? He allowed himself a deep sigh of satisfaction and pulled off the gloves.

“I think the brunt of the storm has passed.” Leah listened for a moment. “I think it’s safe to go out again. We should get Joey home to his mother.”

“But the goats,” the boy protested. “The bad wolf might come and—”

“We’ll lock the gate,” Leah assured him. “The goats will be fine until the farmer comes tomorrow.” She took Joey’s hand. “Daniel?”

“It’s still pretty nasty out there,” he said, glancing into the dark as he grabbed his wet jacket. The rain was still coming down, though not as hard as before. “Maybe you and Joey should stay here while I go for—”

Leah laughed, her flashlight beam steady on the gate. “And do you remember the way back to the Beachy farm? Or will we have to send a search party out for you?”

He chuckled and looked down at his wet shoes. “You’re probably right.”

“I am. Now come on…we’ll go together. All three of us.”

“I guess we do make a pretty good team,” Daniel dared. He liked the sound of her laughter. She was teasing him, but not in a mocking way. She was teasing as a friend might tease another friend. It gave him a good feeling; he’d made a good friend in Seven Poplars. He had a big family, but in their travels it hadn’t always been easy to make friends and keep them. Leah was a special young woman, and he hoped he’d see her again after tonight.