LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter 7

      Winter’s tenacity has an expiration date. Hold onto that truth when its biting winds seem to hold spring hostage.

      ~Seedlings & Sentiments

      from the “Encouragement” collection

      Sandi? Come here, girl.”

      Where was that old towel Karin used when Sandi’s feet were muddy? With the yard in such rough shape, those paws would be caked after this length of time outside.

      “Sandi! Food!” A surefire result-getter.

      Josiah propped open the door to the backyard and scanned for a furry but happy animal. Nothing.

      “Sandi, get your rear end in here!” He whistled like a junior high boy at a girl’s volleyball game. Where was she? Come on. He did not need this. Not today.

      Stupid, stupid phone. He yanked it out of his pocket, his eyes glued on the farthest corners of their half-acre lot, anticipating a tongue-flapping, tail-wagging reunion any second now. “Yes? What?”

      “Josiah, do you have anger ish-ee-ooos?” Janelle asked.

      “Oh, Janelle. You got my message.”

      “You didn’t leave one. But I recognized your number. Hey, where were you guys this morning? We missed you in Sunday school. The Larsons tore up the class with their report on the ‘In Love Forever’ seminar they attended in the cities. You would have laughed your socks off at the ridiculous advice they were given. A hot tub filled with champagne? Those so-called marriage experts could have used a few lessons from you, Josiah.”

      She continued to talk. Josiah gulped back man tears.

      “Janelle, I have to interrupt. Karin’s in the hospital.”

      “What? Oh, no! After all she’s been through?”

      All she’s been through? What did that mean? “She was in an accident last night.”

      “No! What happened? The roads were awful. They closed the interstate for a while.”

      “I know.”

      “How is she? Can I see her? What does she need?”

      “Janelle, she’s in intensive care.”

      “Intensive care? How bad is it?”

      Josiah turned his back on the empty yard where Sandi should be and walked back toward the kitchen. “It’s not good. I don’t know much yet.”

      “What are the doctors saying?”

      “When she came out of surgery, they said—”

      Janelle’s sharp intake of breath was loud enough for him to hear through the phone. “Surgery?”

      “To relieve pressure in her brain.” His throat was closing off again.

      “I can’t believe this. I just saw her yesterday morning. I stopped at Seedlings & Sentiments to pick up my order.”

      Josiah forced himself to ask, “Did you know about . . . about him?”

      “It’s a him? I thought it was too early to tell for sure.”

      “What?”

      “I know technology has come a long way, even since my Megan was born.”

      She was talking about the baby. “So, you know about the child?”

      “That’s okay with you, isn’t it? I mean, I know Karin wanted to keep everything quiet for a while.”

      Understatement.

      “But, I mean, it was obvious she was pregnant. How could I not ask her?”

      Obvious.

      “Josiah?”

      He reined in a stampede of thoughts. “What?”

      “Is the baby okay?”

      Was it okay a baby was involved? No. Was it acceptable that Karin’s pummeled body would have that to cope with, too? Okay that his wife—his wife—would be a mother but he wouldn’t be a father?

      He cleared his throat. “So far, the baby’s fine.”

      “Thank the Lord for that. Where are you now? At the hospital?”

      “I’m home. Getting a few things.”

      “Ah. Karin’s satin pillowcase. She hates regular ones. Me? I prefer Egyptian cotton.”

      Josiah headed for the bedroom to grab the satin pillowcase. He should have thought of it earlier.

      “How are you holding up, Josiah? How are you feeling?”

      Truthfully? Like a prisoner of war robbed of every trace of normalcy, every smidgen of joy. “I’m doing all right. Tired.”

      “I’ll get the prayer team mobilized.”

      “Thanks. That means a lot.”

      “When do you think I can see her? Should I wait a day or two?”

      Or six. Or a dozen. “I don’t know, Janelle. I really don’t know at this point. I’ll stay in touch.”

      “Please do. Wow, what a mixture of joy and sadness, huh? The baby, but now this?”

      She thinks the baby’s mine, or she wouldn’t say that. Karin didn’t tell her friend everything. “About the child, Janelle.”

      “I understand. Keep it quiet for a while. You let me know when you and Karin have had a chance to talk about the right moment to share your news.”

      “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

      She hesitated longer than her normal millisecond before filling the blank space with more words. “I’m so grieved over this.”

      “Me, too.” Deeper than you know.

      “You’re heading back to the hospital then?”

      “Yep. Woodlands. Did I mention that? As soon as I find Sandi. She bolted on me.” Seems to be a habit among my womenfolk.

      “Woodlands? Okay. Please know we’re going to pray Karin through this.”

      “Thanks. I’m counting on it.”

      He ended the call before Janelle could invent something more to say. Where did he leave his coat? Time to locate that fool dog.