LITMIR.BIZ

       ONE

      “Megan, has Noah Hostetler arrived yet?”

      Concern bit at nurse practitioner Alexa Grant as she hovered by the receptionist’s desk. It wasn’t like Noah to be late. He was always at least half an hour early. She knew for a fact that when the Amish man hired a driver to take him to his medical appointments, he booked them with plenty of wiggle room. A quick glance outside made her grimace. When she’d driven to work that morning, it had been cold, but the sky had been clear. Now, three hours later, a heavy sheet of snow and ice pelted the glass windows of the small medical clinic.

      It figured. Her lips twisted. There hadn’t been any snow to speak of in LaMar Pond, Pennsylvania, back in November at Thanksgiving time. Now, only two weeks out from Christmas, the snow and freezing temperatures pounded the small town relentlessly, adding to the chaos of the season.

      Chaos like the flu epidemic sweeping through northwestern Pennsylvania. It had hit LaMar Pond in the past three weeks. It was a virulent strain. One that was resistant to the vaccine. Several deaths had been reported throughout the affected area. It was hitting the local Amish community especially hard. In addition to her usual weekly home visits, Alexa had been out to see several children and one elderly woman already for the virus. Noah’s family had been hit, as well. Thankfully, his wife and children were on the mend.

      Megan, the pretty young receptionist, shook her head, never looking up from her computer. Alexa didn’t take offense. Megan, like everyone else, was busier than usual. Even with the yearly shots, two nurses were already down with the flu. Nurses they couldn’t afford to do without. This was a clinic funded chiefly by donations. There wasn’t a hefty budget. The owners barely had enough staff to cover the clinic as it was.

      The dispatch radio sent out a series of beeps. For a moment, the employees at the clinic paused, mostly out of habit, as many of the staff also worked shifts at the main hospital. That particular beep pattern was for the ambulance service and volunteer fire department in the next town over. Any victims would be transported to the hospital. Static crackled briefly before it was replaced with the dispatcher’s voice. Alexa winced. A four vehicle crash on the interstate. Conditions were bound to get worse. The weather forecast had said the snow was supposed to continue all day and into tomorrow.

      Had Noah been in an accident, too? His usual driver was very cautious, but there were many other drivers out on the roads who were in too much of a hurry.

      The dispatcher’s voice stopped, and the cheery sounds of Christmas music filled the air. The dichotomy of danger and joy was jarring to her. No one else seemed bothered by it, though, so she put the thought aside.

      Alexa glanced at the clock on the wall and felt her tension go up a notch. Noah was now ten minutes late. If he didn’t show up in the next five minutes, the clinic’s policy dictated that he would lose his appointment. That would keep the clinic from getting

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