The Christmas Quilt (Quilts of Love Series) Read online

  Their people were not slow in understanding what constituted an emergency. They certainly were intelligent enough to know the difference in most cases—to know what Samuel, as an herbalist, could help with, and what required a hospital. Annie had taken a class on homeopathic medicine while earning her nursing certification. She’d been surprised to learn that there was a growing interest among Englischers regarding the benefit of natural substances for certain ailments. Of course, others thought it was so much mumbo-jumbo. She wondered what her old co-workers would think, seeing her now.

  As Annie stood and began dressing, her mind turned back to the phone and the families in her community. She was certain the majority of those men and women were actually quite intelligent—smart enough to know when to call an ambulance rather than Samuel.

  No, the problem seemed to be twofold. First of all, they were slow to change. They based their entire way of life on things staying the way things had always been. Because of that, they were hesitant to call on the Englisch for medical assistance, though they would when Samuel told them it was best.

  The second problem was less noble in her mind, and caused her to think of the donkeys in their neighbor’s pasture. Many of the families in their part of Pennsylvania were stubborn, plain and simple. These families would often argue with Samuel when he told them to call for help. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be like to live in an old order Amish community. Long before she was born, her community had accepted the use of gas stoves, gas refrigerators, even triangles on the buggies. But going directly to the Englisch hospital? That was something few would do.

  And so they had sat with Bishop Levi before they’d married and discussed the wisdom of installing a phone. Both she and Samuel had agreed they didn’t want it in their home, didn’t want it disrupting their lives. Whether it was a cell phone or a landline didn’t seem to make much difference. It would be a distraction. In the end, they’d decided on a cell phone, which Samuel could carry with him when he was on a call. Annie had taken it with her occasionally when she’d had a birthing Belinda couldn’t attend. She hadn’t had cause to use it, but both she and Samuel remembered the first birth they had assisted together. God had provided direction that night, and it seemed He was providing direction with the bishop’s allowance.

  So the phone sat in the barn on a special battery charger. Doc Stoltzfus had suggested the baby monitor—also battery-operated, which allowed them to hear it from the house if it rang. Still a distraction, but at least a distant one.

  Like tonight.

  What time was it?

  As she started downstairs, the light from the flashlight she was carrying fell on her quilting bag. She was ready to begin work on the quilt in earnest.

  If she needed to leave with Samuel on a home visit, it would be good to take the bag with her. She’d finished her sample square the day before and had even found enough time to recalculate the amount of fabric of each color she would need. Her plan was to use a white for the background of each block, and border them with a nice green. She’d determined the colors for each boy and girl she would appliqué as well as the nine-patch block to separate each square. And she’d written it all down, measured twice, and checked her calculations.

  Picking up the bag, she continued to the first floor. She peered out the window and saw a light piercing the darkness. Samuel had opened the barn doors and hitched the buggy. Hurrying, she gathered together what supplies they might need, including both their medical bags and her coat. More snow had fallen while they’d slept.

  Shining her flashlight in the direction of the kitchen clock, she was surprised to see it was nearly four. They’d had almost a full night’s sleep. That was good. Annie ran her hand over her stomach. It seemed every day now the baby felt bigger and stronger.

  She was at the front door holding all of their things when Samuel pulled the buggy alongside the porch. Not waiting for him to exit the buggy, she stepped out into the cold predawn, pulled the door shut behind her, and hurried down their front porch steps.

  Slipping into the buggy, she accepted the blanket he handed her. “I brought your medical bag as well as mine, some food you might want to eat on the way, and a little of the milk we had left, though I didn’t have time to heat any kaffi—”

  “Annie.”

  She was so busy settling into the seat, placing the bags at her feet, and tucking the blanket around her lap she hadn’t stopped to study him. In fact, she’d turned off the flashlight as soon as she’d climbed into the buggy. But something in his voice caused her to stop, to hold perfectly still, to steel herself against his next words.

  “It’s Leah.”

  “Leah—”

  Samuel murmured to Beni, who started off down the lane at a fast clip, as if the mare understood their urgency.

  “It’s the bopplin?” Her voice shook slightly and she cleared her throat, then tried again. “They’re coming?”

  She couldn’t make out his expression, but she could see his profile as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  “I don’t think so. David called and he couldn’t give me many details, but it doesn’t sound as if her water had broken yet.”

  “David called?”

  “Adam had rung the bell. David hurried over to their place.”

  “Thank Gotte he lives close.”

  Samuel nodded, reached over, and squeezed her hand. As they approached the two-lane blacktop, he pulled his hand away and focused on directing her mare.

  “I told him to call Belinda as soon as he hung up. He rang back before I’d finished hitching up Beni. She’s going to meet us there.”

  Annie nodded, even as she closed her eyes and began to pray.

  They travelled another five minutes, the horse’s steady gait and Samuel’s strong presence calming the panic trying to claim hold. The prayers in her heart soothed the ache for her brother’s children.

  “Should we call the ambulance, Samuel? Did you bring the phone?”

  “Ya, I have it, though perhaps it is only false labor—”

  “Or prelabor.”

  “David didn’t have many details. He knew her pains were close, but Adam wouldn’t come outside to speak to him.”

  “Where was he?”

  “In the bathroom with her. David went into the house and stood speaking to them through the door. Adam said he found her that way, collapsed on the floor.”

  “Six weeks early. They won’t weigh much.”

  “Gotte knows what they weigh, Annie. And he knows the day they’re appointed to make their appearance.” He reached over and claimed her hand. “We’ll go to her and assess her condition.”

  “And convince her to go to the Englisch hospital.”

  “If she’s still having contractions, yes.”

  Annie stared out the buggy window. The sky still showed no signs of dawn. As her mind went over all that could go wrong, the view outside remained pitch black.

  Though the pains hadn’t lessened, it helped that Adam was still with her. Leah was ashamed she had ever doubted her husband’s feelings. Seeing him now, feeling his arms around her as they knelt on the cold floor, she realized how foolish, how childish she had been.

  How long had it been since David had gone for help?

  How long would this night last?

  Another pain rippled across her stomach and she felt Adam’s hand on her face, combing her hair away. His voice was a whisper in her ear. It didn’t matter what words he was praying, only that he was so close. She fell into a light sleep as soon as the muscles surrounding the babies relaxed. Her last thoughts were of the comfort of the old quilt warming her and the calm assurance she felt wrapped in Adam’s strong arms. He’d succeeded in moving her so that his back was to the wall and she lay with her back to him, lay in the circle of his arms.

  His voice in her ear.

  His lips on her hair.

  His arms holding the quilt around her, touching her stomach each time the wave of agony hit again.


  It was an intimacy beyond anything they’d ever shared, and it was almost worth her fear she might not survive it.

  But women did survive such hours.

  Didn’t they?

  She closed her eyes and fell asleep again. When she opened them, Adam was gone. Someone had slipped a pillow beneath her head. Annie knelt beside her, wiping her brow with a cool cloth.

  “Annie, when did you—”

  “We’ve been here a few minutes.”

  “Adam?”

  “He’s in the next room, with Samuel. We’re going to move you to the bedroom, Leah. Samuel needs to examine you, and it would be difficult here. Your contractions are coming every eight minutes. You should have another soon, then Samuel and Adam will carry you to your bed.”

  Leah nodded though fear flooded every space of her heart. The tiny bathroom had become her world in the last few hours. Somehow she had reasoned if she could stay here, stay with Adam, everything would turn out all right.

  She glanced around and noticed there was more light. A battery-powered lantern sat on the counter, and the beam from two flashlights shone on the ceiling.

  “One more minute, dear. It’s important you don’t push. Hold my hand.”

  “It’s time?” Samuel’s voice was calm, low, and she caught a glimpse of him before the wall of pain slammed into her and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Count, Leah. One, two, three . . .” Samuel’s hands were on her stomach, and somehow she heard Adam behind her. Annie continued holding her hand and sponging her forehead with the cool cloth.

  They’d barely stopped counting when Adam and Samuel were helping her to her feet.

  “I’m not sure that I can—”

  “Already done,” Annie chirped.

  Leah was sure her legs would give away, but she hardly had to use them at all. Samuel and Adam were on either side of her, steadying her and supporting all of her weight between them. As they guided her from the bathroom to her bed, she saw that Annie had pulled back the covers and brought in more lanterns, though now there was a touch of morning light through the windows.

  “Gut,” Samuel declared. “Now Adam, if you’ll go out and see to our horse.”

  “But surely David can do that.”

  “Ya, probably you’re right. I think he’d like some of the kaffi Annie started when we arrived though. He’s had a long night, too.”

  Leah thought she saw Samuel wink at Annie. What secret joke had passed between them? If they could banter back and forth, her condition must not be as serious as she feared. Some of the worry constricting her heart backed away.

  Annie had settled her into the bed, tied back her hair, and given her a drink of water.

  “Can you take Leah’s vitals again?” Samuel asked.

  “Sure thing.” Annie fastened the black material over Leah’s left arm and pumped up the blood pressure cuff. “Long night?”

  “Ya. At first I thought it was the practice labor.”

  “Maybe it is.” Annie noted her blood pressure on a pad of paper, then relayed the numbers to Samuel, who was prepping to examine her.

  “Let’s see how close these bopplin are to coming.”

  The exam was quick. Samuel was done well before the next contraction hit. Leah could tell by the look on Samuel’s face this was not another case of pre-labor, but then she’d known that the moment she collapsed on the bathroom floor.

  Annie covered her with the quilt, offered her another drink of water, and they prepared for the next contraction. It was ending as Adam entered the room.

  Samuel wasted no time getting to the point. “I’d like to use the phone I carry to call an ambulance.”

  “But Annie said Belinda is coming—” Leah ran her hand over the stitching of her quilt, the wedding quilt she’d made for her and Adam. She remembered working on it at her mother’s house.

  “She’ll be here soon, but she will say the same thing.” Samuel moved from the foot of the bed to stand next to her. “Every moment we wait is a moment lost. Your vitals are good and the heartbeats of your bopplin are strong, but you’ve begun to dilate. We need to stop your labor before it progresses any further. Contractions are stressful on the bopplin, and we don’t want them to enter the birth canal.”

  “You haven’t lost your water yet, Leah.” Annie kept her voice calm, making sure Leah and Adam looked at her before she continued. “The paramedics will be able to start an IV with a bolus solution in case you are dehydrated. Once you arrive at the hospital, the doctors will add medication to your IV if it’s necessary. Both should help postpone your labor.”

  Adam sank into a chair next to the bed. “Then why does she have to go to the hospital?”

  “A paramedic can’t give magnesium, which Leah may need to stop her labor. Plus she needs to be monitored closely for at least a few days.”

  “How many days?” Leah felt her heart rate kick up a notch. She’d never been away from home before.

  “There’s no way to know.” Annie patted her arm.

  “I don’t understand,” Adam said. “Maybe it will stop like before.”

  “Leah’s contractions are steady and increasing in length. Also her cervix has begun to dilate,” Samuel explained. “This is definitely not false labor.”

  “Isn’t there an herb you can give her to stop her labor?”

  “No. There isn’t. The doctors at the hospital have the correct medicine. You can trust them, Adam.”

  “But if it’s time for the bopplin to be born—”

  Time for the babies? It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet. The babies were due at Christmas. Tears welled up in Leah’s eyes and threatened to spill over. Annie kept checking her watch, which was when Leah realized another contraction was due any minute.

  “If it’s Gotte’s wille, then they will be,” Samuel agreed. “But every day we can give them in Leah’s womb is an extra day they have to gain weight, an extra day for their lungs to develop. It’s very important we give them that time.”

  Adam continued to shake his head. “We knew there was a possibility we’d have to go to the hospital, but what you’re talking about is different. I want to do what’s best for Leah and for the babies. How long would she be there?”

  “I don’t know. As long as it takes.” Samuel scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll speak plainly. We need to give them every chance we can. If they’re born tonight, they will have a difficult fight ahead of them. Their lungs might be underdeveloped and their birth weight will be low. Plus, I can’t assist that kind of birth here. Belinda can’t either.”

  Adam reached for Leah’s hand and kissed it gently. She realized at that moment how difficult this must be for him. How could she comfort him?

  “Everything will be fine, Adam.” She searched her heart for confidence she didn’t feel. What was it they had read in their Bible on Sunday? Not to worry, and about the flowers of the field. “Remember the verses you chose on Sunday? How God cares for us more than the flowers?”

  “From Luke. Ya.”

  “If Samuel says we should go now, then we should go. Gotte has sent him to our community for this reason, because he knows what is best. The rest we shouldn’t worry about.”

  “Ya. Okay. I know you’re both right.” Adam stared at her, then up at Annie. “Will you go with us?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then place the call.”

  As Samuel was pulling out the phone, the next contraction finally hit. Adam and Annie helped Leah through it. This time instead of counting, she focused on an image of lilies.

  10

  Adam actually flinched when the paramedic shut the back doors to the ambulance. His fraa was inside, not to mention his children.

  “Annie’s with her,” Samuel reminded him.

  “You’ll be mere moments behind,” David added. His hair looked as if he’d fallen asleep in the barn at some point.

  Nodding, Adam kept his eyes glued to the Englisch vehicle as it pulled away from his home. Morn
ing light was splashing across his fields, but what difference did it make? Leah was leaving. Leah was on her way to the hospital in Lewistown.

  “I’m surprised they let Annie ride in the back,” Adam said as Belinda joined their group.

  “Ya, at first they didn’t seem to believe she was a nurse.” David laughed. The sound seemed foreign, out of place after Adam’s long night. “When she pulled out her old hospital ID, the taller fellow nearly popped a lens off his glasses.”

  “It’s not completely out of the ordinary for a family member to ride in the back of the ambulance,” Belinda said.

  She was short like Adam’s mother, extremely thin and probably had seen the far side of sixty. He’d known her for several years. He and Leah had visited with her several times, but still Adam felt slightly uncomfortable around her—maybe because of her short, uncovered gray hair.

  Or maybe his discomfort came from realizing Belinda was responsible for birthing so many of the Amish babies in their community. As she was the area midwife, they depended on her expertise, but she wasn’t Amish. She existed in a gray area, somewhere in-between. Once he’d asked Annie why Belinda worked exclusively with Amish families. Annie had said Belinda considered it her ministry, but she wouldn’t give any details of the woman’s background. Adam’s mother had shrugged and said, “She assisted with your birth, Adam. What more do you need to know?”

  Belinda’s words brought him back to the present.

  “She kept Leah calm and was a help to the paramedics. She knew how to stay out of the way, and her nursing background could come in handy should Leah go into labor again.”

  “Is that a possibility?” Adam asked.

  “It’s not likely. They already started administering fluids through her IV.” Belinda patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Adam.”

  “Remember, she has our phone,” Samuel said.

  Belinda buttoned her coat. The sun was adding warmth to the day, but the temperatures were probably in the low forties. “She’ll call me if Leah’s condition changes, and we’ll be with them shortly.”