Chapter Four
The hospital van bounced over a rut in the farm lane, and Caleb King leaned forward to catch the first glimpse of his home. At last—those four weeks in the rehab hospital after his leg surgery had seemed endless, but finally he was coming back to his central Pennsylvania farm. If only he could jump down from the van, hug his kinder and plunge back into the life of being a dairy farmer.
But he couldn’t. His hands tightened on the arms of the wheelchair, and he glared at the cast on his leg. How much longer would he have to count on the kindness of his family and neighbors to keep the farm going?
Caleb glanced toward the Fisher farm across the fields. The spot where the barn had been before the fire was cleared now, and stacks of fresh lumber showed a new barn would soon rise in its place. For an instant he was back in the burning structure with Sam Fisher, struggling to get the last of the stock out before the place was consumed. He heard again Sam’s shout, saw the fiery timber falling toward him, tried to dive out of the way...
He should have thought himself blessed it had been only his leg that suffered. And doubly blessed that Sam had hauled him out of there at the risk of his own life.
The van stopped at the back porch. Caleb reached for the door handle and then realized he couldn’t get it open. He’d have to wait for the driver to lower the wheelchair to the ground. How long until he’d be able to do the simplest thing for himself? He gritted his teeth. He was tired of being patient. He had to get back to normal.
By the time Caleb reached the ground, Onkel Zeb was waiting with Caleb’s two little ones, and his heart leaped at the sight of them. Six-year-old Becky raced toward him, blond braids coming loose from under her kapp, which probably meant Onkel Zeb had fixed her hair.
“Daadi, Daadi, you’re home!” She threw herself at him, and he bent forward to catch her and pull her onto his lap, loving the feel of her small arms around him.
“Home to stay,” he said, and it was a promise. He hugged her tight. His young ones had lost too much with their mother’s desertion and death. They had to know that he was always here for them.
Reminding himself that whatever Alice’s sins, he must forgive her, he held out his hand to Timothy, who clung to Onkel Zeb’s pant leg. “Komm, Timothy. You know Daadi, ain’t so?”
Little Timothy was almost four, and his blue eyes had grown huge at the sight of the lift and the wheelchair. But at the sound of Caleb’s voice, he seemed to overcome his shyness. He scrambled into Caleb’s lap, managing to kick the heavy cast in the process.
Onkel Zeb winced at the sight. “Careful, Timmy. Daadi’s leg...”
Caleb stopped him with a shake of his head. “It’s worth it for a big hug from my boy.”
Nodding, Onkel Zeb grasped Caleb’s shoulder, his faded blue eyes misting over. His lean, weathered face seemed older than it had been before the accident, most likely from worry. “Ach, it’s wonderful gut to have you home again.”
The driver slammed the van door, smiling at the kinder. “Don’t forget, I’ll be back to pick you up for your therapy appointment next week.” He waved as he rounded the van to go back to the driver’s seat.
Caleb grimaced as the van pulled out. “I wish I could forget it. I’d like to be done with hospitals.”
“Never mind. You’re getting well, ain’t so? That’s what’s important.” Zeb started pushing the wheelchair toward the back door, where a new wooden ramp slanted down from the porch. “Sam Fisher and Daniel put the ramp in last week so it’d be all ready when you came home.”
“Nice work.” Of course it was. His brother Daniel was a skilled carpenter. Caleb tried to look appreciative, but it was hard when he kept seeing reminders of his helplessness everywhere he looked. “Is Sam still helping with the milking?”
“I told him not to come in the morning anymore. With Thomas Schutz working every day, we’re getting along all right.” Zeb paused. “I was thinking it might be gut to have Thomas stay on full-time even after you’re back on your feet. We could use the extra pair of hands.”
Caleb shrugged, not willing to make that decision so quickly. Still, Thomas seemed eager to earn the money for his widowed mother, and he was a bright lad. They could do worse than take the boy on until Timothy was of an age to help.
“At least for now we’ll keep him full-time,” he said. “And we’ll have Edith Berger continue with the house and the young ones.”
Onkel Zeb stopped pushing when they reached the door. Caleb glanced up and was surprised at the look of discomfort on Zeb’s face.
“About Edith...her daughter has been having some health troubles and needs her mamm. So Edith had to go to her. She isn’t coming anymore.”
Caleb’s hands clenched again as the chair bumped over the doorstep into the house. He could hardly care for the kinder when he couldn’t even go up the stairs. “We’ll have to find someone...”
His words trailed off as they entered the kitchen. A woman in Plain dress stood at the stove, taking a pie from the oven.
“Here’s a blessing arrived this morning that we
