Read Online Stranger's Gift by Anna Schmidt - Free Book Online Page B

the night before.
    â€œI’m thirty-six years old, Arlen, hardly a teenager out to test my wings before I decide to join up.”
    Again Arlen smiled. “Ja, I had forgotten. You are one of us after all.” Hester saw her father glance at John’s bright yellow shirt smudged with filth and his cargo shorts ripped in several places. “Perhaps
die Kleidung
,” he mused more to himself than to John. “You choose not to dress in the plain fashion of your ancestors?”
    â€œI choose not to draw attention to myself. Look, Arlen, the point is …” John prepared to state his case as the chopper moved closer.
    â€œThe point is, John Steiner, you cannot stay here. At least not for tonight.” Arlen removed his straw hat and fanned himself as he watched the helicopter make its final approach just as it started to rain again. “In a few days the Lord may see fit to bless us with a steady sun that will start to dry things out,” he shouted. “In the meantime those clouds out there promise a full day of rain, and we must go and offer our help to others who are as devastated as you.”
    The chopper hovered, its blades whipping what trees were left in a weak imitation of the hurricane’s gale-force winds, as the rescue basket emerged from its belly. Arlen strode back down the path they had taken over fallen trees and smashed shrubbery, waving to the pilot. Samuel fell into step behind him, but Hester waited to see what the Amish man would choose.
    â€œStubborn old …” John muttered under his breath as he watched her father navigate the debris as nimbly as someone half his age.
    â€œHe is a respected man of God,” Hester said. “And whether you like it or not, John Steiner, he is right.”
    His answer was a feral growl as he gave up the fight. And when he headed for the beach—albeit by a different route—Hester found that she could not suppress her smile. She watched as Samuel and her father assisted him into the basket. Once he was safely on board the chopper, the pilot dropped the basket again.
    â€œGo with him, Hester,” her father shouted above the din. “Samuel and I will meet you at the hospital after we return the boat.”
    â€œWhy me?” Hester shouted, but her father and Samuel were already on their way out to where Margery had climbed into her boat and pulled it closer to theirs.

    â€œHow is he?” Grady asked later as he and Hester stood several yards away from where a Red Cross medic was applying a splint to John’s wrist and forearm. He was being treated at the temporary quarters the agency had set up in back of her father’s church. The doctor they’d seen at the hospital had sent them away, citing the need to attend to a host of people with far greater needs than a broken wrist.
    Stubborn. Rude. Arrogant
. Hester rejected the litany of adjectives that sprang to mind as she recalled the short flight to the hospital, where they had landed on the roof and been met by a harried-looking team of medics. “I believe he will survive,” she said.
    â€œHe looks like he could spit nails,” Grady observed.
    â€œLike many
English
, he’s taking the storm personally.” Hester deliberately used the term commonly applied to those from outside the Amish or Mennonite community.
    â€œBut he’s Amish.”
    Hester shrugged. “And yet he shows none of the acceptance of God’s will that would be common to his faith. So what’s in a name? You can contact your boss and let him know that Mr. Steiner is fine. His property is probably a total loss, although I didn’t tell him that, but he’s alive.” She gestured to the man now sporting a more traditional and substantial sling on his left arm as he stood and looked around. “He’s all yours, Grady.”
    â€œI don’t have time …” Grady sputtered.
    Hester narrowed her eyes as she studied her