Page 15 of A Hidden Hope

Annie had been dodging Gus for a couple of days now, and her excuses were getting flimsier by the minute. When he called her at work today, she barely let him finish his question. “Can I come over tonight and help you study?”

“I can’t,” she said. “My mom needs help with pie making. I promised.”

Which wasn’t a lie. The pie making was real. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Gus.

She did—more than she cared to admit. But her mind flashed back to that stomach-churning ride in Dok’s car—the blur of trees, the sharp turns, and her insides flipping over like a pancake.

She’d barely managed to keep it together until Dok drove away, and then promptly lost it all in the hydrangea bushes.

That little incident had planted a nagging fear in her gut, one she couldn’t shake: What if she never could get a grip on this motion sickness?

“Annie,” Gus said, his voice dropping to a softer tone, “I was wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have told you about that car accident—you know, the little girl who didn’t make it.”

“No,” she said. “Not at all. I’m glad you shared it with me.”

He hesitated, clearly not buying it. “You know, most of the calls are easy fixes, right? We get tons of false alarms. It’s hardly ever like that one call was.” Somebody called his name in the background. “I gotta go. But I hope to see you soon, okay?”

After hanging up, Annie sat back with a sigh, feeling the full weight of the irony. She could handle the chaos, the blood, the pressure of an emergency. But the very idea of riding in an ambulance, speeding down a road, left her stomach doing somersaults.

She had to get a handle on this terrible motion sickness before Gus found out. And definitely before he got the wrong message from her.

This morning, while Wren took her customary marathon shower, Evie swapped out the old sheets on the twin beds for the fresh sets Fern had left. As she bundled up the dirty linens, Fern appeared in the doorway, arms crossed against her chest. “Now you’re changing her sheets?”

“I did mine first, and then, since Wren’s still using the bathroom, I figured I might as well tackle hers too.”

Fern grabbed the bundle with a resigned sigh. “Evie, you need a backbone.” With a quick turn, she banged on the bathroom door and shouted, “Time’s up!” and then was off down the stairs as swiftly as she’d come. The shower turned off.

Did Evie really lack backbone with Wren? Throughout the day, Fern’s words replayed over and over in her mind, her frustration building with each repetition.

That evening, Dok dropped Evie off at Windmill Farm after making a house call to Annie Fisher’s home.

While vaccinating his dairy cows, Annie’s father had accidentally stabbed himself in the leg with the needle.

Dok instructed him to try to remain absolutely still until she arrived—the less he moved, the lower the risk of the vaccine spreading through his system.

Once there, she carefully cut around the injection site to remove any contaminated tissue and then stitched up the wound.

Fascinating! Evie realized she would never have witnessed such a treatment in a hospital.

This was the kind of experience she wanted to get as a traveling nurse, and why she didn’t choose an urban teaching hospital.

It was interesting to have met Annie’s father—a man who took pain in stride, shrugging off a self-inflicted stab wound with the same ease as if it were a splinter.

In stark contrast was Annie’s mother, who spoke with acute awareness of every little body ache, treating each minor discomfort as a significant ailment.

As Dok’s car zoomed down the driveway, Evie looked over at the buggy shop before she headed to the farmhouse, hoping to see Charlie tinkering with the buggies.

She would love to tell him about Annie’s father and the cow vaccine.

He enjoyed hearing about the house calls she made with Dok, and she enjoyed telling him about them.

But there was no sign of him, which probably meant he was still at work in Dok’s basement.

So diligent! Another reason Evie adored him. Conscientious Charlie.

She walked up the steps to the kitchen door, assuming Fern was inside, but there was Wren at the kitchen counter, slicing a stalk of celery. So she did eat, after all.

Wren glanced at Evie. “Fern’s gone to some kind of a quilt party for the evening, so I thought I’d make a salad. Fern’s cooking is ... well ... it can be...”

“Plain,” Evie said.

Wren looked up at Evie in surprise, unfurling a radiant smile. “Bingo.”

It was such a surprise to be on the receiving end of Wren’s smile that Evie felt a giggle of delight slowly erupt from her rib cage. She tried to suppress it, but it slipped out, and to her surprise, Wren laughed. Just once, but it was a definite laugh.

“So plain,” Wren said. “So very, very plain.”

It dawned on Evie that she had misunderstood her. The same word meant different things to them. Plain to Evie meant lavish, Amish-style food. Plain to Wren meant boring.

But the drawbridge had lowered with Wren! She had smiled at Evie, sort of, and laughed—once—and her voice had softened. “I think you’d enjoy Fern if you spent some time with her. She’s a wonderful person. There’s so much to learn from her. I could ask her if she’d give us a cooking lesson.”

Too much, too soon.

“The only one I need to learn from is Dr. Stoltzfus.” Wren’s eyes flickered with something Evie couldn’t quite read, and her tone of voice changed from soft to sharp. “But it seems as if you’ve got that role sewed up.”

Evie crossed her arms, studying Wren. The look on Fern’s face this morning popped into her head, and the words: “Evie , you need a backbone.”

Okay, then. Okay. Evie squared her shoulders, determination bubbling up inside her.

“I haven’t sewed anything up. Not intentionally.

” Which took her right back to thinking about the cow vaccine and Annie’s father.

It was too bad that she couldn’t talk to Wren about the house calls like she could to Charlie.

But she was pretty sure Wren would look at her the way she was looking at her now, like Evie had stolen something from her. “There’s plenty of work to go around.”

Wren’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Doesn’t seem that way. Especially when it comes to house calls.”

Self- confidence! Backbone! “That’s not fair, Wren. Dok needs to see that you’re making an effort to understand the needs of the Amish. They make up half of Dok’s practice. Maybe more. Hiding away in a buggy shop isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

“I’m not hiding . I’m studying.” Wren’s expression tightened. “I shouldn’t have to prove myself to anyone. And I don’t un derstand why she’s always getting pulled out of the office for house calls. It’s a terrible way to run a practice.”

“House calls are very important to Dok, for lots of reasons.” It was one of the reasons Evie wanted to work for her.

Wren pointed the tip of her knife at her. “Most all of those house calls could be handled by sending patients to the ER. Or to urgent care.”

“There is no urgent care in Stoney Ridge. And don’t forget the Amish pay out-of-pocket for their medical bills. No health insurance. Going to the hospital is usually a last resort.” Which Wren would know if she bothered to learn more about them.

Wren went back to chopping carrots on the diagonal, with remarkable precision.

Watching her, an odd thought darted through Evie’s mind. Wren would make an excellent surgeon. A precise skill was required, yet it also meant minimal people interaction. Wren wasn’t much of a people person.

“Did you ever consider surgery?”

Wren turned toward her with an expression that fell somewhere between disbelief and offense. “Did Charlie say something to you?”

“No! I was just watching you, and the thought came to me. I wondered if you’d ever considered it. Seems like you’d make a very good surgeon.”

“Are you giving me advice about my future?”

“Um...” Backbone , backbone! “No, not at all. It’s just that ... I know Dok’s schedule is sporadic, but Charlie leaves the basement to observe Dok whenever she has time. She was looking for you today, but you’d left to study for boards.”

“She was hardly in the office today! Besides, she’s the one who told me to use spare time to study until she had a plan for us. We haven’t been here very long.” She lifted the knife in the air. “And I spent most of that first week cleaning out the basement.”

Hardly! Charlie and Hank cleaned it out. Wren supervised. “Still, Dok’s trying to make a choice for partner. She needs to see you make an effort to accommodate the unique needs of her patients.”

“What? What did you say?” The frown seeped from Wren’s face. “Is Dr. Stoltzfus looking for a partner? Is that why she applied for two residents? Is she choosing between us?” She set down her knife. “Does Charlie know about this?”

Oh. Oops.

Evie figured everyone already knew. She thought it was common knowledge.

But now that she thought about it, Dok had never actually told her the news.

She’d heard it from Sarah Blank, who always sounded like she knew everything.

But now it occurred to her that Sarah might not be the most reliable source of information. “Actually ... I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know? If it’s a contest? Or if Charlie knows about it?”

Oh no. Why did Evie start this? She shouldn’t have said anything. “Neither. I know nothing. I don’t know why I even said that. In fact, forget I said anything.” Backbone , backbone!

“Well, not everything,” Evie said. “I meant it when I said you’re going to have to show Dok how much you want this job. You need to become indispensable to her.” Charlie, too, but he’d already found a way to become indispensable as Dok’s construction guy.

Wren stood silently for a moment, then seemed to have an idea.

She straightened up, her expression resolute.

“You’re right, Evie. I’ll find a way to prove myself.

Become indispensable. Thank you for this little pep talk.

” She tipped her head, squinting at Evie.

“You look positively worn-out. Here.” She pushed the bowl toward Evie on the counter.

“Help yourself to this salad. I just remembered something I need to do.” Without another word, Wren turned and left the kitchen to head over to the buggy shop.

The drawbridge was pulled up. Evie watched her go, disap pointed that the moment of intimacy they’d shared had been so brief, so fleeting, but kind of proud of herself for being clear and direct. She’d had a backbone with Wren!

And then she turned around to see the sink full of dirty dishes.