Sniffling, she rolled over and lay still on her back, listening for movement in the next room. She was relieved to hear faint snoring; that must have meant Sovilla’s stomach had settled down enough for her to sleep. Earlier in the evening, Noah had gone to the phone shanty and spoken to the doctor on call at the clinic. She’d told him that as long as Sovilla didn’t run a high fever or become dehydrated, there was no need to make an appointment, since the virus would run its course without medication. Still, most people who’d had the flu said the stomach and intestinal issues lasted for a full twenty-four hours, at least, followed by lesser bouts of nausea and weakness. Arleta realized she’d told Noah to find a replacement for her immediately, but she hoped to stay in New Hope until she was sure his grandmother had completely recovered from the flu.

  She’d been so upset about what Noah had said and about Sovilla being ill that it hadn’t occurred to Arleta until just now that by quitting her job, she had also given up her goal of earning enough money to get her tattoo removed. It’s okay, she tried to convince herself. I was going to give Emma’s familye a portion of my savings anyway, so Leanna won’t have to babysit for the Englischers. Besides, as Noah had indicated, everybody already thought she behaved inappropriately, so what did it matter if she had a tattoo or not? At this point, I’m done caring about what anyone—especially people who are as unfair as Noah and as cold as Hannah—think about me, she defiantly decided. And I’m done wearing socks to bed, too! She reached down, tugged them off and dropped them on the floor beside her bed. Then, utterly drained, she shut her eyes and went to sleep.

  She must have dozed for two or three hours before she was woken by the sound of the bathroom door closing. She bounded out of bed and down the hall to see if Sovilla needed help. But Sovilla’s door was shut; that meant it was Noah who was in the bathroom. As Arleta turned to go back to her room, she heard the unmistakable sound of retching: he was ill. Great. Now he’s going to blame me for that, too, she thought and she slid into bed.

  But she lay awake, listening for him to walk past her room on his way back upstairs. After ten or fifteen minutes passed with no sound of him going by, she got up, put on her bathrobe and tiptoed down the hall. Rapping lightly on the bathroom door, she quietly asked, “Are you okay, Noah?” Her question was met with a groan. A few seconds later, the door opened and she realized he wasn’t standing in front of her—he was sitting on the floor.

  “I feel baremlich,” he moaned, his eyes bloodshot and his face pale.

  She extended her hand. “Here, I’ll help you up.”

  “Neh. Not yet.”

  Understanding what he meant, Arleta replied, “I’ll go make up the couch, so you can be closer to the bathroom if you need it.”

  “Denki,” he muttered, and abruptly closed the door.

  Arleta flew into her room and donned her kapp so she could pray for Noah as she brought fresh sheets and a pillow into the living room. No matter how deeply he’d hurt her, it pained Arleta to see him so sick and after turning the couch into a temporary bed, she circled back to the bathroom and knocked on the door again. This time, he took her hand and allowed her to help him into a standing position. He was so unsteady that she had to prop him up all the way into the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.

  She brought him a glass of cold ginger tea, but he shook his head, apparently too drained to speak. She went back into the kitchen and took ice cubes from the tray. She knew he probably couldn’t tolerate more than a few slivers at a time, but she didn’t want to wake Sovilla by pounding the ice. So she put the cubes into a plastic bag, grabbed the meat mallet from the drawer and darted outside to crush the ice into chips against the ground. Then she rushed back inside to bring them to Noah in a glass.

  But the couch was empty and she spotted him in the hall, crawling toward the bathroom. After he came out, she helped him back to the sofa and sat in the armchair across from him so she could support him down the hall the next time he felt sick to his stomach. They must have made half a dozen trips back and forth before he finally fell asleep. Arleta smoothed back his dark, damp hair to place a hand on his bare forehead; he was still feverish, but not quite as hot as before.

  No sooner did she drop into the armchair than she heard Sovilla’s door open, so Arleta popped back up and repeated a similar process of assisting her back and forth between her bed and the bathroom. The older woman finally fell back asleep just as the sun was coming up. Arleta returned to the living room to steal a few minutes of rest in the armchair. Only then did it occur to her that her bare ankle was exposed, but before she could get up to put on her socks, she nodded off to sleep.

  * * *

  Noah opened his eyes and quickly shut them again. Then he reopened them just a crack, squinting as he looked around the living room. The sunlight seemed brighter than usual, and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. He had hazy recollections of sipping water, eating crackers, using the bathroom or talking to Sovilla and Arleta at various times during the night, but he didn’t know if any of it had actually happened.

  But when Arleta came into his range of vision, he was certain she was real, not a dream, because he felt her cool hand on his forehead and heard her murmur, “I think your fever’s gone.”

  He tried to ask how his grandmother was, but his throat was too scratchy to get the words out. Arleta supported his head and lifted a glass to his lips so he could take a sip of water. “Is Groossmammi okay?”

  “Jah, she’s doing very well. She’s taking a nap in her room. She fared a lot better than you did. After the second day, she was almost as gut as new.”

  Noah tried to sit up but it made him dizzy so he rested against the pillow again. “The second day? How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Off and on since Muundaag. It’s Freidaag now.”

  “Freidaag? Neh!”

  “Jah, it is. Feel your chin—you’re growing quite the beard.”

  Noah touched his cheeks and chin; they were prickly with hair. “I don’t remember so much time passing. I must have been really sick.”

  “You were. How do you feel now?”

  “Baremlich.” Although most of the past week was a blur, one thing he recalled perfectly was what he’d said to Arleta when he’d found out Sovilla was ill. As terrible as he’d felt physically, he felt even more wretched for accusing her of not caring about his grandmother’s health when clearly he was the one who’d brought home the flu.

  “Jah, that makes sense. You’ll probably be weak for several days.” Arleta adjusted the pillow behind his head and then tucked the sheet around him. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?”

  Noah clutched her fingers to get her attention. She stopped fussing with the bedding and tipped her head quizzically at him. “I don’t feel baremlich because of the flu—well, I do, but I feel more baremlich about the things I said to you,” he confessed. “I am very, very sorry, Arleta.”

  She pulled her fingers free of his grasp. “Don’t wear yourself out talking about that now.”

  “Neh, this is important. Please listen.” So she sat down in the armchair facing him. His voice crackling with dryness and emotion, he continued, “I was completely out of line. What I said was a reflection of my fear, not of your care for Groossmammi. I panicked because she’s the only familye I have, and it’s my responsibility to make sure...” Noah didn’t usually feel so sentimental. Maybe it was that the virus was affecting his emotions, but his eyes welled and he couldn’t complete the thought.

  As Arleta leaned forward to help him take another sip of water, she assured him, “She’s okay, Noah. She’s fine. Gott kept her from becoming severely ill.”

  “Jah. But He used you to help her—to help both of us—recover. I can’t say enough how grateful I am. Or how sorry I am. I was the one who brought the flu home to her, not you.” Again, he was embarrassed when his vision blurred with tears.

  “You don’t know that for sure. You don’t know where she got it.”

  “Maybe not, but I know she didn’t get it from you. Please forgive me for accusing you of making her sick. Of not caring about her health,” Noah pleaded.

  “I do forgive you for that.” Arleta set the water glass on the end table and then took a deep breath and said, “But there was something else you were wrong about, Noah. Your implication that I’ve behaved inappropriately with Isaiah in private was hurtful, untrue and ungentlemanly.”

  Noah had been so upset when he’d come home to discover Sovilla was ill that he’d said things he couldn’t fully remember. But seeing the pain in Arleta’s eyes and hearing the indignation in her voice brought the gist of his remarks back to him. “Neh. The implication I made was worse than that—it was ungodly. I am so ashamed, Arleta—and so sorry.”

  She bit her lip and nodded, but he could tell she was hesitant to accept his apology and he didn’t blame her. Using all of his strength, he pushed himself up on one elbow. Grasping the back of the sofa with the other hand, he pulled himself the rest of the way up, until he was in a sitting position, directly facing her. The effort made him dizzy, and he rested his hands on his knees until they stopped trembling. Ordinarily, he never would have admitted what he was about to disclose—he could hardly admit it to himself—but he had to make Arleta believe he didn’t really mean what he’d said.

  “I—I made that remark—that horrible remark—because I wanted someone to blame for groossmammi being sick. And I blamed you and Isaiah because, well, because I’ve been envious of your courtship.”

  “Pah!” Arleta uttered. “Isaiah is not my suitor. I have no romantic interest in him whatsoever and I never did.”

  “Really? But you seem so enam—” He stopped talking before he put his foot in his mouth again.

  Fortunately, Arleta giggled. “I seem so enamored of him, is that it? I suppose I can understand why you and our peers may have thought that. I was ‘chasing him down’ for a ride after the potluck. But that was only because I wanted to allow you the opportunity to give Hannah a ride home alone.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  Arleta’s cheeks flushed and she looked down at her lap. “You know, so you could renew your courtship with her.”

  Aha, that’s why she looks so guilty. Someone must have told her I used to be Hannah’s suitor. “I’m about as interested in a courtship with Hannah as you are with Isaiah.”

  Arleta lifted her head. “Really?”

  “Jah. I can’t see myself in a courtship with anyone. That’s why I was envious of your courtship with Isaiah—because I know that a courtship isn’t something I can ever have.” Whoa. Noah’s fatigue must have dulled his inhibition because he’d come very close—too close—to confiding far more than he wanted to confide. He rubbed his forehead, hoping Arleta wouldn’t pick up on what he’d just admitted, but it was too late.

  “What’s stopping you from having a courtship?”

  “I don’t know why I said that. I might still be feverish,” Noah said with a laugh, but Arleta wasn’t distracted.

  “If it’s because of your obligations to Sovilla, there’s no reason you can’t care for your groossmammi and care about a weibsmensch at the same time, you know,” Arleta said. “And I don’t think anything would make Sovilla happier than seeing you in a courtship.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” Noah said with a wry laugh. Dropping the subject, he asked, “Could you please help me up now?”

  His legs were so weak that as soon as he got up, even though Arleta was holding on to him, he had to sit back down again. While he was resting before he gave it a second try, Sovilla entered the room.

  “Noah, you’re awake, my little schlofkopp!” She joyfully called him a sleepyhead and then crossed the room to kiss his forehead before sitting down next to him. “How are you feeling?”

  He glanced at Arleta, whose smile showed the small opening between her teeth—she’d completely forgiven him. “I feel wunderbaar now, relatively speaking. Except I can’t wait to shave off this beard.”

  “Oh, but it gives me a glimpse of what you’ll look like when you get married. I think he wears it well, don’t you, Arleta?”

  “Jah, he looks very handsome in it,” she said, winking at Sovilla—or maybe at Noah. And he felt so invigorated by her compliment that he rose from the couch all by himself.

  * * *

  Of course, after making up with Noah, Arleta didn’t leave New Hope. In fact, wild horses couldn’t have dragged her away, especially now that she had two patients to attend to. Not that Sovilla was much of a patient; she was a little wobblier than usual, probably because she still wasn’t eating enough, even though the nausea and stomach pain had long passed. But Noah was so weak he needed help just crossing the room, and he spent the next several days sleeping more hours than he was awake.

  Fortunately, that week was an off-Sunday, so the trio was able to worship at home and after they’d prayed and read the Bible together, Sovilla went to her room to nap and Noah rested on the couch, as he still didn’t have the strength to climb the stairs. Arleta sat opposite him, gazing at his face. The angles of his jaw and cheekbones were more pronounced, once he’d shaved off his beard. It occurred to her that she didn’t realize he’d been slowly gaining weight since she’d been there until he got sick and lost it again. Still, she thought he looked as masculine as ever, although his physical traits were the least important of the attributes she found attractive about him.

  No wonder Hannah wishes she had a second chance to have him as her suitor, she thought. As uncharitable as it was, she felt a small measure of satisfaction to discover Noah wasn’t interested in courting her. I’m sorry that it will hurt her feelings when she finds out, but I just can’t see him with her. I never really could...

  “Are you sitting there watching me sleep?” Noah asked, opening one eye.

  Caught, she joked, “Neh—because you’re not actually sleeping. But I’ll leave if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

  “You’re not. I can’t really sleep anyway.” He slowly sat up and swung his feet around to the floor. “You know, when I was sick, I had the strangest dreams. In one of them, you weren’t wearing socks.”

  Arleta’s pulse quickened. “Do you remember anything else about that dream?”

  “You mean like did you have hooves instead of feet?” He laughed. “Now that I think about it, I do remember something else. It was the oddest thing.”

  “What was that?” Arleta squeaked.

  “You were holding a mallet.”

  Relieved, she cracked up and told him about going outside to crush the ice into chips for him so she wouldn’t wake Sovilla by making such a loud noise in the house. She thought he’d find it amusing to picture her outside in the middle of the night pounding ice with a meat mallet, but instead he shook his head, frowning. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Me. I’m wrong. I mean, I was wrong. So wrong. You’ve taken such gut care of Groossmammi and me, right down to the smallest detail and—”

  “Noah,” she interrupted him. “You apologized and I’ve forgiven you so there’s no need to continue to feel sorry or to keep apologizing to me. Otherwise, it’s as if you haven’t accepted my forgiveness.”

  “Okay. Denki,” he said. Then he sighed. “I don’t think Groossmammi is going to let me go to work tomorrow. Not that she can really stop me, but I’d better prepare for an argument.”

  “I’m not going to let you go to work tomorrow—and I can stop you. I’ll hitch the horse to the fence at the end of the lane if I have to,” Arleta threatened. She was laughing, but she meant it. “You can hardly balance well enough to cross the living room floor. How do you expect to pull yourself up a ladder or walk on a rooftop?”

  “Jah, I guess I can give it another day of rest.”

  Another week is what you’ll need, Arleta thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. There was no need for her to convince him; his body would show him his limitations.

  Sure enough, over the next couple of days, Noah’s strength began to return, but at a much slower pace than he wanted it to. By Thursday morning, he was chomping at the bit to return to work, but he still wasn’t even capable of caring for the animals; Arleta had to do it. She didn’t mind, but it frustrated Noah that she was single-handedly managing the household, livestock and yardwork and he couldn’t help her.

  “See what happens when you don’t get enough rest for weeks on end? Along comes a virus and knocks you completely out of commission,” Sovilla chided him. “You lectured me about my weak immune system, but I think yours was even more fragile.”

  Arleta noticed that after so many days of being housebound together without a break, Sovilla and Noah were getting on each other’s nerves. “It’s such a pretty day today. Noah, why don’t we take a ride to the market together? I need flour because tomorrow Sovilla’s going to teach me to make a bumbleberry pie. And maybe we can stop off at the lake you told me about. What’s it called again?”

  “It’s a pond. Little Loon Pond. But I don’t think it’s a gut idea to leave Groossmammi alone for that long.”

  Sovilla harrumphed exaggeratedly. “And Groossmammi doesn’t think it’s a gut idea for you to stay with her for so long.”

  Arleta tried not to giggle. “We’ll leave after lunch and we’ll be home before supper. How does that sound?”

  “Like just what the doctor ordered,” Sovilla said.

  Noah seemed less pleased than his grandmother was but once they were underway, his mood lightened considerably. Although Arleta had insisted on hitching the horse and buggy herself, Noah had taken the reins once she’d given him a boost into the buggy. She asked him to stop at the store first, so she could get her errand out of the way before they relaxed at the pond. “I’ll only be in there a few minutes,” she said, as she climbed down onto the pavement in front of the little market on Main Street. He said he’d circle the block instead of hitching the horse in the back parking lot.