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Authors: Ruth Reid

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BOOK: Brush of Angel's Wings
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“God, I agree with the request. Amen.” He opened his eyes and a faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

Wendy kicked her hind leg up against her abdomen. Under the pressure of the cow's forceful strain, the calf's hoof reappeared, but it quickly retracted again when the cow stopped pushing.

Rachel's throat tightened and her vision blurred with tears.

Jordan moved closer. “Don't break down now. What do we need to do with these chains?”

She shrugged, too choked up to give a reply.

“Rachel, that little guy wants to come out of there.” Jordan handed her the chains, then lathered his hands with a thick layer of grease. He slipped his hand inside before Wendy contracted, then looked up at Rachel. “The other leg is turned. How do I get it unstuck?”

She quickly found the end of the chain. “Loop this above the ankle joint.”

“Then what?”


Daed
always told James to pull with each contraction. Then hold with an even traction between each one.”

After attaching the chain, Jordan withdrew his hand and steadily held the chain.

“Pull,” she said when Wendy contracted.

The contraction eased.

“Hold.”

After another round of pulling, the other hoof appeared, and after that, the calf's muzzle. Rachel wiped the thin membrane away from the calf's airway. “
Nau
she needs to push the shoulders out.”

Jordan aided Wendy, and after several minutes of forceful contractions, the rest of the calf slid out, landing on the bed of straw.

Rachel took a piece of straw and wiggled it inside the calf's nostrils. “Rub his sides to get his lungs moving.”

Jordan massaged the rib cage, then thumped hard a few times until the calf breathed. He gazed at Rachel. “You're amazing.” His smile widened. “I mean it. You're amazing.”


Nett
me. God is amazing. Don't you forget, Jordan Engles. We prayed about this, and God extended his grace.”

Wendy and the calf both stood and the calf bonded with its mother.

“I'll thank him for making you amazing.” He patted his chest with a slimy hand. “If I wasn't covered in gunk, I would kiss you.” He moved toward her and paused as if waiting for her permission.

The rattle of the gate hinges startled them both. Rachel rose as her father limped inside the pen.

Daed
gestured to Jordan's clothes. “Difficult delivery,
jah
?”

Jordan spread his arms so Micah could see it all.
“Jah.”

Daed
put his hand on Rachel's shoulder. “Go on in the
haus
. I need to talk with Jordan alone.”

Chapter Twenty-One

M
icah cleared his throat. “What are your intentions with
mei
daughter?”

Jordan swallowed hard. He hadn't expected such a direct question. Micah must've overheard him say he wanted to kiss Rachel.

“I'm
nett
so old that I don't see how she looks at you,” Micah said.

“I'm fond of Rachel.”
Fond?
He felt a lot more than fondness toward her.

“I know your father contacted you,
sohn
.” Micah stroked his beard.

“He wants to take me on his truck route.”

“And driving a truck is something you want to do,
jah
?”

Jordan drew a deep breath. Only a few weeks ago he could've answered with an immediate yes. Now, choked with uncertainty, he couldn't form a reply.

“If you go . . . don't take
mei
daughter.” Micah's firm tone contradicted his watery eyes.

Jordan's stomach knotted. “I understand. I'll keep my distance from her. You have my word.”

The lines on Micah's forehead disappeared. “You're a
gut
man.”

The words were hollow in Jordan's heart. With his feelings for Rachel growing stronger every day, it would be difficult to keep his word.

“I know you've struggled since your mother died, and living here hasn't been easy,” Micah said.

Jordan remained silent. He rubbed his watering eyes, leaving a greasy film from the calf delivery on his lids. His stomach rolled.

Micah pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Jordan.

Jordan wiped his face with the cloth. “She told me before she died . . . she'd made peace with God. She wanted me to find the same peace. But I don't know how.”

A stretch of silence passed between them before Micah spoke. “Have you considered that God might be trying to show you the way?” As though he hadn't expected Jordan to reply, he continued, “Don't be so stubborn that you refuse to listen. The sheep hear the Shepherd's voice. Your heart hasn't turned to stone . . . or you wouldn't be drawn to seek him.” Micah picked up the chains. “I'll get these boiling.”

“I can do that.” Jordan reached for the chains, but Micah didn't release them.

“Nay.”
He patted the pen slats. “It's
gut
to spend a few minutes with a newborn calf.” Micah limped out of the barn.

Jordan leaned against the pen and stared at the newborn. “Thank you for saving the calf, God. It means a lot to Rachel.”

He squeezed his eyes closed. “And Rachel means a lot to me.”

Tangus slithered along the barn rafter above Jordan. “Micah thinks you're trouble. He knows you'll never be righteous like them. You're not Amish.”

“That is not the truth.” Nathaniel hovered over Jordan to block the enemy's view. “Remember what your mother said, ‘My kinfolk will welcome you. Your father will find you there.' Jordan, the Father is here. Call to Him, for He waits for you.”

Tangus dropped down to the straw floor and shielded his eyes from Nathaniel. “Your father did find you. He wrote you a letter.”

Jordan smiled. “My mother was right. I have found my father here.”

Tangus lifted his tattered wings away from his eyes to steal a glimpse at his ethereal adversary. “You underestimate my power, Nathaniel. I've manipulated the human heart since those worldly creatures were created. They all stumble. Some fall. And some I bury in their guilty pleasures.”

Jordan watched the calf, suckling on its mother, and grinned at the stubborn little gal. Rachel sure proved to be a good midwife to the cow. He stayed for a while observing the miracle before him.

As Jordan closed the barn door, Rachel was hitching Ginger to the buggy. His heartbeat skipped erratically. He needed to keep his promise to Micah and keep his distance, but the moment she looked up from fastening the strap and smiled, he veered toward her.

“How's the calf?” Her smile lingered.

“She's nursing. You want to go see her?”


Jah
, but I can't. Sadie's sick and I'm driving her home.” She squatted to reach the strap dangling under Ginger's belly, then looped it through the ring. “I plan to stay and help her.”

“When you get back will you take a walk with me?” She needed to hear the news about his father from him.

She paused and eyed him as though she could see into his soul. “I suppose, if you promise to tell me your secret for getting those old floors to shine in the
grossdaadi haus
.”

Jordan smiled. “One part vinegar and one part vegetable oil.”

She shifted her attention to her sister waddling toward them. Rachel leaned close to Jordan and whispered, “Sadie's rasping like her lungs are filled with fluid.”

Sadie handed Rachel a jar of canned chicken broth and pulled herself into the buggy. Once she sat on the bench, Rachel handed her the jar.

Jordan followed Rachel to the driver's side. “How long will you be gone?”

“A few days.” Rachel glanced at the barn. “You'll look after the calf,
jah
?”


Jah
. If you promise not to race that horse.”

“I only like racing those I can beat.” Rachel smiled as she released the brake. “I'll wait for you.”

Rachel wished she could have stayed home and gone for a walk with Jordan. The intensity of his stare had warmed her core.

Beside her, Sadie squirmed on the bench like a child at the close of a three-hour church service. Rachel glanced at her sister. “Are you feeling worse?”

“The same. I'm light-headed and hot—like
mei
insides are cooking.” Sadie arched her back and placed her hand on her side. “This pressure feels different.” Sadie's forced smile slipped into a frown. “I wish I knew if this is normal.”

Rachel reached for her sister's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You need rest.” She flinched along with Sadie as the buggy wheel dipped into a pothole.

Sadie closed her eyes until Rachel stopped Ginger in front of the house. Rachel jumped out and came around to her sister's side. As Sadie eased off the bench, Timothy came out of his shop and ran over to them.

“What's wrong?” He looked with concern at his
fraa
.

“I need to rest, is all.” Sadie's lips pursed. “It will pass.”

“How long have you felt like this?” He wrapped his arm around her and carefully helped her down.

“It
kumm
on me sudden.”

Rachel followed them inside the house. “She said she feels hot on the inside.”

Timothy helped her into the bedroom. After lowering her on the bed, he placed his hand on her forehead. “You feel warm.”

“She needs to be checked,” Rachel said.


Jah
, maybe so.”

“You two stop talking about me like I'm
nett
here,” Sadie protested. “The midwife is still out of town.”

“I'll bring you some water.” Rachel left the room, filled a glass, then took it to her sister.

“She's going to take a nap,” Timothy said.

Rachel set the water glass on the bedside table.

“Denki
,

Sadie mumbled.

Timothy helped her to sit long enough to sip the water, then he gently lowered her to the pillow. “Do you need another pillow?”


Nay
, I'm fine
nau
.” Sadie closed her eyes as Timothy kissed her forehead.

Rachel had always admired his attentiveness to Sadie. His love for her was obvious both in the way he looked at her as well as in his actions. Rachel stifled a sigh. “Are you hungry?”

Sadie rolled her head against the pillow. “But you can make something for Timothy, please.”

Rachel touched her sister's arm. “You must eat something after your nap. I'll warm some broth.”

Her sister closed her eyes without replying.

Rachel slipped out the door behind Timothy. “She needs to eat something for the
boppli's
sake.”

“Jah.”


Mamm
sent a quart of her chicken broth. I'll add some vegetables and make soup.”

“Denki
.

Timothy paused at the end of the hallway, his face full of concern. “I have some work to finish in
mei
shop.” He eyed the bedroom. “I hope it's
nett
the
gut
Lord's plan for Sadie to miscarry the
boppli
.”

Rachel clasped her hands. “We will pray for God's grace.”

“And mercy.” Timothy then began mumbling something about buggy wheels as he headed outside.

Rachel drew a deep breath as she stepped inside the kitchen to inventory Sadie's pantry. Pushing back the pantry curtain, she found a container full of dried homemade egg noodles. She filled a pan with water, added the stiff noodles, and placed the pan on the stove. She poured the broth into a separate pot.

After the broth had simmered, Rachel ladled a bowl and let it cool on the counter. Timothy entered and wiped his feet on the braided rug. “How's Sadie?”

“I was getting ready to take her some broth.”

Timothy took a spoon from the drawer, grabbed the bowl of broth from the counter, and headed for the bedroom. A few minutes later, he reappeared in the kitchen and set the bowl on the counter. “She's still sleeping.”

BOOK: Brush of Angel's Wings
11.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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