Page 27 of A Hidden Hope

Evie’s friend Darcy had this theory: Spending time with Charlie every day would eventually extinguish her crush, like tossing water on a flame. Daily exposure, Darcy said, would douse it for sure.

Darcy couldn’t have been more wrong. Instead of fizzling out, Evie’s feelings burned brighter and hotter with each passing day. The more time she spent with Charlie, the longer grew her list of his virtues. Daily exposure wasn’t squashing her crush—it was feeding it.

She kept hoping Charlie might drop a hint that he felt even a smidge of what she did.

Aside from an occasional fleeting moment, a shared laugh, Evie’s hope was still a distant dream.

But for now, things were moving in a lovely direction.

Whenever Dok and Wren went out on house calls, Evie and Charlie worked in tandem to see the patients who came to the office—a routine that suited her quite nicely. Sheer heaven.

This morning, when Evie recognized the name on the patient list, she hesitated, glancing over at Charlie. “Our next patient is Clara Zook, an Amish woman. She had twins a few months ago. She’s...”

Evie faltered, searching for the right word. Guarded? Passive? No, those didn’t quite capture the full picture. She settled on, “She’s trying very hard to be a good mother.”

“Twins?” Charlie’s expression instantly sobered. “She’s probably exhausted.”

Evie gave a small smile. “No doubt. But she’s coming in today with a possible case of mastitis.”

“Got it,” Charlie said.

Clara entered the room, her face pale and drawn, dark circles rimming her eyes.

“Hello, Clara,” Evie said. “Do you remember me? I’m Evie Miller. I came to your house a few weeks ago with Dok Stoltzfus. And this is Dr. King.”

Charlie stood from his stool, offering a warm smile. “Hi, Clara.”

Clara’s eyes darted around the room, anxiety rolling off her in waves. “Isn’t Dok here?”

Evie shook her head gently. “She’s been called out of the office. But Dr. King and I can help you.”

Clara’s hesitation was palpable as she took a step back toward the door. “Maybe I’ll just wait until Dok is free.”

Evie moved forward instinctively, not wanting to let Clara slip away. “Annie mentioned you might have mastitis, Clara. You really can’t wait. We need to get you on antibiotics before it gets any worse.”

Clara’s resistance faltered as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve just been a little ... sore.”

Evie took a step closer, her voice soft and soothing. “I think we can help.” She gently guided Clara to the exam table and helped her unpin her top. The sight of Clara’s inflamed, rock-hard breast made Evie wince. “Oh, Clara. That must be so painful.”

“Just a bit,” Clara admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“How long have you been in pain?” Evie asked, placing a hand on Clara’s forehead, noting the heat there. “Feels like you’ve got a fever.” She turned to grab a thermometer as Clara hastily pinned her dress back up.

“Started a few days ago,” Clara said in a mumble.

Charlie pulled up a chair, making sure to hold Clara’s gaze. “I hear twins are more than double the work.”

Almost on cue, a wail echoed from the waiting room, where Annie was watching the twins while Clara was in the exam room. One baby’s cry was soon joined by the other’s, creating a chorus of distress.

“Clara,” Charlie said, his tone laced with concern. “Are you able to get much sleep?”

Clara hesitated, waiting for the thermometer to beep before Evie pulled it out and read the display, showing it to Charlie—one hundred and one degrees. “I do the best I can,” she said.

“Does your husband help out?” Charlie asked.

“He’s a farmer,” Clara replied, as if that explained everything.

“When I was at your house that day,” Evie said, “we talked about finding a mother’s helper to come for a few hours a day.”

Clara shook her head sharply. “Jacob wouldn’t hear of it. Costs too much.”

Charlie leaned forward slightly, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not getting enough sleep can take a toll.”

“I’m fine. No different than any other new mother,” Clara said, though the dark circles under her eyes betrayed her. She looked exhausted.

“Lack of sleep is a concern for all new mothers,” Charlie said. “It can have a profound effect on a person’s well-being. What about naps? Are you able to get any rest during the day?”

“Sometimes, there’s a place on the farm that I like to go,” Clara said, her voice softening. “It’s real nice. Dark and cool and quiet.”

“That’s good to hear,” Charlie said, nodding encouragingly. “It’s important to take care of yourself, Clara. For the babies’ sake as well as your own.”

Evie’s heart melted as she watched Charlie, his concern and compassion so evident in his every word and gesture.

He scribbled something on a prescription pad and handed it to Clara.

“This is for some medicine that will help you feel better soon. Be sure to finish the bottle. A lot of people stop taking antibiotics too soon.”

Evie cleared her throat, drawing Charlie’s attention. “I think we might have some samples.”

Charlie caught on quickly. “Yes, yes, we do. More than we can use. Evie, would you mind getting those samples for Clara? And maybe some pain meds.” He took the prescription from Clara and handed it to Evie.

Stepping into the hallway, Evie was startled by the intensity of the babies’ cries.

So loud. So demanding. Poor Clara, she thought as she took samples out of their packages to fill a small bottle.

She returned just in time to hear Charlie ask Clara a question, speaking in a gentle voice.

“Have you had any moments where you felt completely overwhelmed? Or times when you felt like you just couldn’t cope? ”

The room grew quiet, and Evie and Charlie watched as Clara seemed to gather her thoughts, the pause stretching longer than they expected.

Just as she opened her mouth to answer, the door flew open, and in came Annie, struggling with the double stroller and two wailing babies, screeching at the top of their lungs.

“They won’t stop crying! I’ve tried everything—I don’t know what else to do! ”

“Neither do I,” Clara said with a sigh, rising from the exam table to take the stroller from Annie’s hands.

“Clara, wait,” Evie said, gently touching Clara’s arm. “Here are the meds you need. Take them as soon as you get home. In fact, Annie will get you a glass of water and you can start the meds now. You’ll feel so much better by this time tomorrow.”

Clara took the amber-colored container from Evie, managing a weak smile before following Annie back to the waiting room, the sound of the babies’ cries echoing down the hallway.

Evie turned to Charlie. “I think I’ll ask Dok to follow up with her.”

“Good idea,” Charlie agreed, his brow furrowed with concern. “She seems pretty fragile.”

Fragile! Just the word Evie’d been looking for to describe Clara Zook.

Annie was in the middle of her lunch break, nibbling on a sandwich, when she heard the familiar creak of the office door. Gus stepped inside, a big grin on his face and a brown paper bag in hand.

“Hey, Annie,” he said, walking to her desk. “I brought you something.”

She set her sandwich down and eyed the bag curiously. “Gus, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I did,” he said, his grin widening as he started pulling out a variety of over-the-counter remedies. “Look, I’ve got motion sickness bands, ginger chews, peppermint oil, even some of those acupressure wristbands. I figured we could try a few different things, see what helps.”

Annie felt touched by his thoughtfulness ... and pressured by it. “Gus, this is so sweet of you, really. But I’ve tried all of these before and, well, none of them worked.”

Gus’s face fell just a bit. “You’ve tried them all?”

She nodded, giving him a small, apologetic smile. “Nothing helped.”

For a moment, he was quiet, his brow furrowed in thought. “What about drugs? I could go get some over-the-counter meds.”

She shook her head.

“If they won’t work, I’m sure Dok could prescribe something.”

She shook her head hard. “No drugs.”

“Why not? Why would you say no to something that could help?”

“I don’t want to take any drugs.”

“Okay. Hold off on drugs for now.”

Not for now , Annie thought. For good. No drugs.

He rubbed his chin. “Have you spoken to Dok about this?”

“No.”

“Would you?”

Annie rocked her hand back and forth. “She’s so busy right now.”

“She’s never too busy for you, Annie.” He frowned, and then a determined look came into his eyes. “Well, don’t you worry. I’m not giving up. Something out there will help. I’ll keep working on it until we find the right remedy.”

Annie appreciated how earnest he was, but it also spiked up her anxiety. “Gus, you don’t have to go through all this trouble. It’s my problem to solve.”

Gus shook his head, his voice firm. “No way, Annie. We’re in this together. If this is what’s holding you back from our working together, then I’m going to do everything I can to solve it.”

Through the window, she watched him head across the parking lot to join his partner. What if this was a problem that couldn’t be solved? What then , Gus?

The next morning, Dok asked Wren and Charlie into her office to test their medical knowledge.

All Matt’s idea. Last evening, during dinner, she had been complaining to him that she felt like she was constantly answering questions for Wren and Charlie.

“I know it’s part of the supervising gig, but sometimes I feel like I’m their personal Google. ”

“So turn the tables,” he said. “Ask them questions.”

Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of doing that? There was one patient, in particular, whose symptoms were stumping her. It might be interesting to hear what the two residents might come up with.

“Arthur Roberts, age seventy-one,” Dok said, “had complaints of muscle weakness, fatigue, swelling, and difficulty breathing. I need both of you to take a look at his case and see if you can come up with some possible causes.”

“Evie and I saw Mr. Roberts just the other day,” Charlie said. “He stopped in to get his blood pressure taken. After he mentioned those other symptoms, we thought it best if you checked him out.”

That same day, Dok had seen Arthur Roberts and ran a standard blood panel to rule out obvious causes. Nothing showed up.

“Mr. Roberts is a widower, isn’t he?” Charlie nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I think he said his wife died five or six weeks ago.”

Dok nodded. “That’s right.”

“I wonder,” Wren said, “if something changed with his diet when she died.”

Dok’s eyes cut to Wren. She hadn’t considered diet. “Go on.”

Wren leaned forward. “What if it’s something as simple as a vitamin deficiency?”

Charlie turned to her. “How so?”

“Scurvy!” Wren’s arms lifted in the air, like she was getting excited. “Sailors used to get scurvy on long whaling trips because they had no vitamin C. It’s possible that Mr. Roberts has been eating heavily processed foods since his wife died. No fresh fruits or vegetables.”

“Interesting thought,” Dok said, “but symptoms of scurvy take longer to present.”

Wren’s arms fell to her lap before she straightened abruptly. “Beriberi! It presents quickly.”

Dok raised an eyebrow. “Beriberi?” She almost laughed out loud. Almost. “Highly unlikely. Quite rare in this day and age.”

“But it does fit his symptoms,” Wren said. “Beriberi is caused by a deficiency in vitamin B1, also known as thiamine. If Mr. Roberts has been eating a diet lacking in fresh foods rich in thiamine, it’s entirely possible.”

Wren spoke with such confidence! She was most likely wrong in her diagnosis, but she was definitely confident.

Dok, trying to be a good supervisor, decided to test the theory.

“Let’s rule it out. Wren, ask Annie to call Mr. Roberts.

We’re going to need a specific blood test to check his thiamine levels. ”

As they stood to leave, Dok jolted, momentarily startled.

She’d completely forgotten Charlie was still there!

He’d gone so quiet during Wren’s lively monologue, it was as if he’d faded into the background.

And, truthfully, Dok blamed him for that.

She’d asked for input, but Charlie had brought almost nothing to the table. Not exactly a confidence booster.

The next day, Arthur Roberts’s blood test results arrived, and Dok reviewed them carefully. Her jaw nearly hit the floor. Severe thiamine deficiency. Beriberi—practically unheard of!

Wren had nailed the diagnosis. Smart, sharp, intuitive—and that girl had opinions. Charlie had none.

Wren continued to impress Dok as a potential partner. Charlie, not so much.