Chapter 13
Abigail could feel herself waking up again, but she didn’t want to.
Every time she opened her eyes, people told her all kinds of things she didn’t understand, asked her questions she couldn’t answer, took her for scans or blood work or other tests she didn’t want.
“Abigail?” A man whispered her name. She’d gotten used to the voice now. It was low and soothing and made her feel safe.
But she kept her eyes closed. Because as much as she liked his voice, the things he said didn’t make sense. How could he be her husband if she didn’t know him? He’d even had to tell her his name: Simeon.
“Abigail?” A hand stroked her shoulder. “It’s time to wake up, sweetheart. There are some people here to see you.”
Maybe this time when she opened her eyes, she’d remember him.
She cracked them open to find Simeon smiling down at her, though his forehead was creased into little lines of worry. Stubble that hadn’t been there earlier covered his cheeks, and dark purple circles rimmed his eyes. She was sorry for causing him so much trouble. But he still felt like as much of a stranger as the last time she’d opened her eyes. She moved her arm a little, groaning as pain throbbed through her ribs.
Simeon pulled his hand away. “How’s the pain?”
“It’s okay,” she murmured, though she couldn’t find a part of her body that didn’t ache, and something immobilized her left arm.
Simeon took a hand out of his pocket as if he were going to reach for hers but then tucked it back in. “Are you up for visitors? Everyone’s been waiting anxiously to see you.” Simeon moved to open the curtains, and what looked like midday light streamed in.
Abigail wanted to ask who everyone was, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She nodded.
“Great. I’ll be right back.” Simeon’s smile was warm, and Abigail decided she liked it.
He left the room, and Abigail turned her head to the window. She must not be on the ground floor, since she couldn’t see the immediate surroundings from here. But she could see the sky—a bright, shining blue, and in the distance, low, rolling mountains. Was this where she lived?
She strained to remember. But her brain landed on nothing.
The door to her room opened, and she swiveled her head as Simeon led a whole parade of people into the room.
The first one—a red-haired woman with a scarred face—started crying the moment she saw Abigail, then flew across the room.
“Ava,” someone called as a pair of thin but surprisingly strong arms closed around Abigail.
She groaned against the slice of pain that shot through her ribs.
“I’m so sorry.” The woman let go and took a step backwards. “Did I hurt you?”
“She has broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a broken clavicle.” Simeon stepped between her and the rest of the group. “So maybe no hugs for now.”
The others—there were so many of them—took up every square foot of the room. Some greeted her, some smiled, some cried.
And she didn’t recognize a single one.
An older gentleman who looked a lot like Simeon, except with white hair and a rounder form, stepped up next to the bed and gave her hand a quick, gentle squeeze. “Hello, dear.” Something about his fatherly tone grabbed at Abigail’s heart.
“Hi,” she whispered back.
Behind the older man, Simeon let out a breath and clapped a hand to the man’s shoulder.
“You remember him?” Simeon asked.
Abigail’s eyes went from Simeon to the man and back again. She shook her head.
Simeon’s expression fell so quickly that she wanted to take it back. She may not know him, but she didn’t like the idea of disappointing him.
Across the room, she heard a sob, and her eyes went to a dark-haired woman who had buried her face in the shirt of the man next to her. This man also looked a lot like Simeon—and much closer to his age—although he was taller and maybe a bit broader.
“I’m sorry,” Abigail whispered. Whoever these people were, she didn’t want to hurt them.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” The older gentleman squeezed her hand. “I’m Abe. Or Pastor Calvano. Or Dad. Whichever you want to call me.”
“Dad?”
“He’s my dad,” Simeon clarified. “Your father-in-law.”
Abigail nodded because it seemed like the right thing to do. Simeon’s smile told her it had been a good choice.
“And this is our family. My brother Joseph and his wife Ava.” The woman with the scarred face waved at her, then swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Asher and his wife Ireland.” The dark-haired woman who had buried her face in her husband’s shirt turned to her with a wobbly smile.
“My sister Grace and her husband Levi. They flew in from Wisconsin to see you. And my other sister Lydia and her fiancé Liam,” Simeon continued. Two nearly identical-looking dark-haired women and the men with them smiled at her.
“Hmm hmm.” A throat cleared from over by the window.
“I was getting to you,” Simeon said, and the whole group laughed softly. “My youngest brother Benjamin. Who has never been good at waiting his turn.”
“That’s because I’m always last,” Benjamin said, but he sent Abigail a playful grin, and she decided she liked him.
“Zeb said he’d try to come by later,” Simeon said. “He’s . . .” His voice trailed off, and even Benjamin’s face went somber.
Abigail tried to shift her position in the hospital bed but winced as her ribs protested.
“We should let you rest.” The man holding her hand—she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to call a stranger Dad—let go. “Before we leave, I thought we could say a prayer, if you don’t mind.”
Abigail shrugged. She didn’t have a strong feeling about it one way or the other.
The others all folded their hands and ducked their heads, so Abigail did the same.
“Lord of all,” Pastor Calvano prayed. “We thank you for preserving and protecting Abigail’s life through the accident. We ask that you would bring her healing now. Give her your peace as she recovers, and let her remember, Lord, that she has a family who loves her and will always be here for her and walk with her through every hardship. Please pour out your comfort and peace on Zeb, Lord. Through his sorrow, let him also rejoice that Carly and their baby are now at your side in glory. Amen.”
Abigail lifted her head. All around the room, people were hugging and wiping tears off their faces.
Unexpected tears pricked her own eyes.
Was this really her family? Did they really love her like they so obviously loved one another?
“We’ll be back soon.” Pastor Calvano squeezed her hand one more time, then the others were parading past her bed again, squeezing her arm and telling her they’d be praying for her.
And then it was just her and Simeon in the room again.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said.
He looked like he could fall asleep standing right there.
But he smiled wearily and sat in the chair at her bedside. “I’m not going anywhere.”