Page 10 of A Hidden Hope

That meant three hours. Annie scanned the waiting room, then shifted to a whisper. “Dok, you have a schedule crammed with appointments. The waiting room is already full.”

“I know, I know. I picked up Evie at Windmill Farm early this morning to go on the house call with me, otherwise I’d let her see to them.”

“Dok, why not let Charlie and Wren see some of these patients? A lot of them are just return checks. Like, Billy Yoder needs his stitches out in his knee. And Edith Lapp wants a refill prescription for her eczema. Honestly, I think I could even take care of half of today’s patients.

” Did Annie really say that? She felt shocked by her own boldness.

Where did it come from? Gus’s influence, she thought.

He was always encouraging her to speak up, to have confidence in her own opinion.

But there was only silence on the other end. Long enough that Annie wondered if she’d crossed a line with Dok.

“That sounds shockingly insolent, Annie Fisher.”

Oh no. She had crossed a line.

But then Dok surprised her with an enormous laugh. “Keep it up,” she said.

Annie let out a sigh. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.

“What have the two candidates been doing?”

Dok, Annie noticed, never called them doctors. “Charlie is always down in the basement. Lots of construction noise. There’s already been a truck delivery of something or other this morning. I put some of those bills on your desk.”

“I don’t mind the bills. The basement keeps Charlie busy.”

Right. Annie had a hunch that Dok had an ulterior motive with that basement renovation. She sure wasn’t paying attention to the basement, or to the two young doctors.

“What’s the other one been doing?”

“She always asks for things to do and I try to keep her busy. But she’s quick. It’s hard to find things for her to do. So when she finishes up, she returns to Windmill Farm to study for the board exams.”

“Charlie’s supposed to be taking the boards too, isn’t he?”

“I think so. He doesn’t seem nearly as concerned about them as Wren.”

Dok huffed. “Too bad I can’t put Charlie and Wren in a paper bag and shake it up.” She laughed. “Actually, if I did, the result would be Evie. She’s a dream come true.”

After reassuring Annie that she’d be in the office by noon—one o’clock, tops—Dok hung up, conveniently sidestepping Annie’s question about letting Charlie and Wren handle patient visits.

Annie slowly spun her chair around to face the sea of unhappy patients, preparing to explain why their morning appointments needed to be rescheduled. This task, she wouldn’t miss.

This last week had already taught Evie something she never would’ve learned had she stayed in a hospital setting—the value of house calls.

There was something special about racing in Dok’s car through the countryside (and that woman had a lead foot), meeting patients where they lived. It made the practice of medicine feel deeply personal, like it was meant to be.

On Monday, they had stopped at an Amish farm to treat a farmer whose hand had gotten caught in a hay baler, and he wanted Dok to sew up what was left so he could get back to work.

He held a bloody rag around his hand—half of one finger hung on a hinge of skin.

Evie was impressed with how Dok had managed him.

A gentle but tough insistence that some things were beyond a quick fix.

Dok had him in the car and on the way to the hospital before he could object.

On Tuesday, they got a call to come to the Stoney Ridge Elementary School.

When they arrived, they were led to a little boy sitting in the nurse’s office.

The boy had decided to see if chewed gum would stick to the inside of his ear, and, of course, it did.

When he couldn’t get it out, another child had tried to help, but his efforts only made it worse.

Dok, with a steady hand and a warm smile, carefully removed the sticky mess.

As soon as the gum was free, the boy, without missing a beat, popped it right back into his mouth. Ew.

On Wednesday, they visited the Sisters’ House to check on how an elderly woman was mending after a fall.

To Evie’s surprise, it was called the Sisters’ House because a handful of elderly Amish sisters lived together, and they all appeared with a list of ailments for Dok.

They were trying to save money by treating their ailments in one visit.

Dok patiently worked through the list, treating each concern as if it were the only one, never rushing or dismissing the women’s worries.

It was a reminder to Evie of what was often missing in the fast-paced hospital environment—time, care, and genuine connection.

Perhaps the best part of the week was Evie’s discovery that she understood more Penn Dutch than she’d expected, considering it had been a few years since she’d lived with her grandparents.

Still rusty enough that she didn’t want Dok to know she could follow along, but it was nice to listen quietly and feel that familiar connection to her grandparents.

The only downside to the week? She hadn’t seen much of Charlie. She found herself hoping that would change soon.

Today, Friday, after the last house call for the day, Dok told Evie she’d drop her off at Windmill Farm. “It’s right on the way,” she said, even though Evie was pretty sure it wasn’t.

As Dok’s car flew down the road, she said, “Annie said Wren spends a lot of time studying for the boards. I wondered why Charlie doesn’t seem too concerned about them.”

“No doubt it’s because he wants to finish up this basement project for you first. Charlie’s conscientious like that.”

“Is he?” Dok was quiet for a moment. “Seems like Charlie might enjoy working with his hands more than doctoring.”

Evie turned to her, surprised. A little defensive too. She didn’t want Dok to get the wrong impression of her beloved Charlie. “He is a wonderful doctor. Exceptional.”

Dok raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Definitely. The best of the best.”

“How so, exactly?”

“Well, for one thing, he notices things that other doctors miss.”

“Such as...”

“Once, a little boy had been admitted to the hospital with persistent stomach pain. They had run countless tests, but everything came back normal. Charlie spent some time with the boy and noticed his discomfort whenever he drank milk or had a bowl of ice cream. He figured out there was a history of lactose intolerance in the family that no one had mentioned.”

“Good call,” Dok said, rocking her head slightly back and forth. “But hardly rocket science.”

“Apparently it was for the chief resident. He had already scheduled the boy for exploratory surgery.”

Dok burst out with a laugh. “Sounds like a couple of chief residents I’ve known.” She mimed scissors with her fingers. “Always eager to cut.”

Evie tried to smile, but her stomach tightened. It bothered her that Dok might be underestimating Charlie. He was, after all, extraordinary—even if no one else seemed to think so. Other than Wren Baker.

David gave it some time before he stopped by Fern’s to check on how Dok’s helpers were settling in at Windmill Farm. He was actually quite pleased that his sister was getting much-needed help, much more pleased than she seemed to be about the arrangement.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden table. The air was thick with the scent of fresh pine from Fern’s recent mopping, which made David hesitate at the open door.

“Come in, come in!” Fern called from the kitchen, her voice as brisk as the snap in her step.

David stepped inside, immediately noticing the gleaming floor. “I hate to mess up your hard work,” he said, glancing at the prints his boots left behind.

Fern waved off his concern, though she kept an eye on the trail of dirt. “I’ll just happily wash the floor again and think about our visit,” she said, meaning it.

He couldn’t help but smile. If it were anyone but the bishop, Fern would have kept them standing on the porch, at least until the floor was dry. But she had too much respect for the church leadership to do anything of the sort.

As he settled into a chair, Fern set a plate of thick, chewy gingersnap cookies between them.

“My favorite,” David said.

With a slight grin, she shook her head. “You say that about all my cookies.”

“Because it’s true.” He took a bite and chewed, savoring the spicy, sweet flavor. Fern’s cooking was second to none in their church—though he kept that opinion to himself, for his wife Birdy’s sake.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of the clock ticking softly in the background.

Then Fern, never one to beat around the bush, spoke up.

“The last time you showed up at my door, it was to talk me into taking on those young folk. So I figure you’re here now to see how it’s going with them. ”

David swallowed, appreciating her directness.

“Exactly right.” He studied her face for any sign of frustration.

“I asked you to house them for just a few weeks. Dok said she’d look for something more permanent, but I don’t think she’s had much luck yet.

” He had a hunch his sister was dragging her feet in hopes that the two residents might give up and go away.

“I don’t mind them so much, if they want to stay on here. With Luke and Izzy gone, it’s nice to have folks around the farm. Hank Lapp keeps showing up with his mule and cart with boxes from Dok.”

“Hank? Bringing things here?”

“Says he’s helping to clear out Dok’s basement.”

“According to Sarah Blank, who seems to know everything in this town, Charlie is doing some kind of update at the office. I haven’t seen Dok to ask.” He gazed out the window at the buggy shop. “But why are boxes coming here?”

“Hank says they’re full of old medical equipment that Wren wants.

Antiques and the sort, he said.” Fern shrugged.

“As long as the boxes don’t stay longer than those two young doctors, it’s fine with me.

” She raised an eyebrow. “Which reminds me, I have yet to hear anything more about recompense for boarding them.”

David sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll speak to Dok today about that.”

“And,” Fern said, lifting a finger in the air, “I take them to Dok’s office each morning. They’re on their own to get back in the afternoon, unless there’s a rainstorm with thunder and lightning. Then I told them I’d come and fetch them. Seems like that should be counted in too.”

“I hadn’t given any thought to their transportation.

I’ll mention it to Dok.” His mental list of things to do was growing by the minute.

He should leave soon, because he had a full afternoon of work ahead of him.

And he needed to chase down his sister. But for now, he was content to sit a while longer, enjoying Fern’s company and the simple pleasure of a perfect gingersnap cookie.

“So, all things considered, they’re working out for you? ”

“They’re settling in,” Fern replied, leaning back in her chair, her fingers drumming lightly on the table.

“The boy, Charlie, is a big help to me. He volunteered to feed the animals each morning. Gets up extra early for it. He has a nice way about him. Takes care of himself. Doesn’t even come for supper.

I offer, so long as he shows up at suppertime . .. but he never does.”

“Maybe he’s trying to save money.”

“I wouldn’t charge him much. Evie and I worked out an arrangement. I offered the same to Wren, but she said she prefers to make her own meals. Says she has special eating needs.” She lifted her thin shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know what that boy is eating.”

David nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. Charlie King was hardly a boy. “That’s good to hear. He seems to be pretty absorbed in Dok’s basement remodel.” He reached out for another cookie. Just one more couldn’t hurt. “And the women? They’re working out well?”

“Evie, the nurse, is no trouble at all,” Fern said, her tone softening. “Very thoughtful. She’s good company. Did you know her grandparents were Mennonites?”

David nodded. “Dok mentioned it.”

The arch of her eyebrow deepened. “Evie does need a bit of a backbone.”

“And the other woman? Wren Baker.” For some reason, David braced himself for the answer.

Fern frowned, the lines on her forehead etching a clear message. “She keeps herself scarce. When I do see her, it’s quick.”

David waited.

“She has plenty of opinions.”

He waited.

“And then there’s moments like this morning. Wren came downstairs with a bundle of laundry in her arms, handed it to me, then walked right out the door. Assumed me doing her wash was part of her room and board.” She lifted her chin. “And it’s not.”

He had a hunch something else was nettling Fern. “So how’d you handle it?”

“Evie jumped in and offered to do the laundry for them both. I told her no and put the bundle of dirty laundry right back on Wren’s bed.” Fern frowned. “You can see what I mean when I say that Evie needs a backbone.”

David waited.

“Evie likes to give, and Wren likes to take.”

David smiled into his iced tea. Es is so! Der Brennesel. There it is. The nettle.