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 hergrandparents. 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 awonderfuldoctor. 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.
