15
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 ahand 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.”
