Minding the Amish Baby

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Minding the Amish Baby Page 10

by Carrie Lighte


  When Tessa woke on Sunday morning, her bitterness had melted but she was glad she wouldn’t have to see Turner that day. Perhaps all the time she’d spent engaged in his predicament had contributed to her false sense of attraction to him. Although she regretted missing even a single day of seeing Mercy, a little break would do Tessa good. Maybe it would give Turner a new appreciation for her, too.

  Tessa joined Katie, Mason and the rest of the large extended Yoder family, including Faith and her husband, Hunter, at the Yoder farmhouse for off-Sunday worship. Afterward, Tessa and Katie helped prepare a light lunch.

  “Well?” Katie asked when she and Tessa finally had a moment of privacy as they walked back to Katie’s place together while Mason pulled his nephews around the Yoder’s yard on a sled. “What did you think?”

  “About David, you mean? I think you know what I think.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit he didn’t seem like a gut match for you. But what about Fletcher’s crew member, Jonah?”

  “He seemed congenial,” she said thoughtfully. “I liked how easygoing he was.”

  Katie rubbed her gloved hands together in delight. “Jah, he was definitely more energetic than David. I think it would be worth it for you to get to know each other better, don’t you? Your birthday is coming up on the eighteenth. I could host a party for you and invite him so the two of you could spend more time together.”

  Tessa had been so consumed with caring for Mercy and protecting Turner’s secret, she had forgotten her birthday was drawing near, but she didn’t want Katie turning the celebration into another matchmaking opportunity.

  “Denki, but the truth is I really don’t want a suitor, especially not a pretend one. It wouldn’t be fair to act as if I’m interested in someone just because I’m afraid Mamm would tell me to kumme home otherwise,” she said as she followed her sister into Katie’s house.

  “I never suggested you should pretend anything—that would be very deceptive,” Katie clarified. “But you just said yourself Jonah possesses qualities you like, so why not get to know him better in a casual setting and allow him to get to know you, too? You never know—”

  “I said neh,” Tessa snapped. She’d kept an open mind about meeting David and she’d even entertained the possibility of Turner as a suitor, but look where that had gotten her. This time her position wasn’t going to change. “Why can’t you understand I really don’t want to be courted? Just because you’re married doesn’t mean I want to be. Not now, anyway.”

  Katie’s eyes welled. “It’s not that I want you to get married, Tessa,” she said. “At least, not until you want to. It’s that I really don’t want you to have to leave Willow Creek. I’m trying to think of every possible way to help you stay here.”

  Tessa felt awful. She hung her cloak on a peg and took her sister by the shoulders. Katie wouldn’t look at her as a tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Katie. I’m being so defensive and self-centered I didn’t even think about how my leaving Willow Creek might affect you. I can’t even express how much I’d miss you, too. But I’m sure it’s not going to happen. In a few weeks, Joseph will need me back again and Mamm will never know there was a break in my employment.”

  “I hope that’s true.” Katie pushed a tear off her cheek with her palm. “Because I’m going to need you here now more than ever. It’s too early to say for sure, but I’m pretty certain I’m with child.”

  “Katie! That’s wunderbaar news!” Tessa’s joy was immediate and genuine.

  “I’m going to the clinic in Highland Springs after school on Wednesday to find out for certain, so I won’t be able to have supper with you. Do you suppose we could meet on Friday instead? Say, around five o’clock?”

  “Jah, whatever works best for you.”

  “So, about your birthday... Are you at least open to the idea of my giving you a party and inviting Jonah?”

  Tessa rolled her eyes, but she conceded, “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  “One last thing,” Katie added. “If you happen to write home, please don’t mention to Mamm I’m expecting. I want to tell her in due time.”

  “Of course I won’t,” Tessa promised. She and Katie had always shared their deepest secrets with each other before telling anyone else. “But you know Mamm—she probably somehow knew about the bobbel before you did!”

  The two sisters giggled and gave each other a long embrace. But as happy as Tessa was for her sister, an uncomfortable feeling passed over her. It wasn’t sadness, exactly. It was more like...like envy. That’s lecherich, Tessa scolded herself later as she walked home. Getting married and starting a family is the last thing I want to do right now. Yet when she opened the door to her empty daadi haus, Tessa experienced a sense of loneliness that was so deep she curled up in a ball on her bed and wept until she eventually fell asleep.

  * * *

  Turner was worried about Mercy. She was unusually temperamental and she didn’t seem interested in her bottle. He first noticed her mood shortly after he’d finished reading Scripture and praying that morning. She grew increasingly cranky throughout the afternoon and Turner had such a difficult time getting her down for a nap, he ended up holding her the entire time she slept. At first he thought perhaps she’d just become too accustomed to Tessa cuddling her, but when Mercy kept refusing her formula, he became concerned. He hoped she hadn’t caught the stomach flu he’d had.

  Now it was evening and as he rocked her in the chair he’d brought down from the attic for Tessa, he studied her face. Even in sleep her bottom lip curled over in a pout and her eyelids were squeezed into two lines curving downward like frowns. Observing her discomfort, Turner felt more anger than forbearance toward his sister for the first time since Jacqueline left Louisa’s home. How could she even think about abandoning this vulnerable little child? Having grown up without a mother herself, she ought to have known how important it was for a girl to have a female to nurture and guide her. Some might have argued Jacqueline was only a youngster herself, but Turner figured if she was old enough to give birth to a baby, she was old enough to accept the responsibility for her. After all, he had raised his siblings when he wasn’t much older than Jacqueline himself.

  But his anger quickly turned back to concern again. What if Jacqueline really did leave town? If Turner hadn’t done right in raising her, how would he do right raising her daughter? He couldn’t bring Mercy up by himself, nor could he ask Louisa to take the baby, not after all she’d already done and not when her husband was ailing. Turner supposed Rhoda or Ruby would help, but they’d be starting families soon, too. He wasn’t confident Mercy would be treated like one of their own children. Turner wanted Mercy to be dearly loved—the way Tessa loved her.

  As the thought occurred to him, Turner acknowledged he needed to apologize for the way he’d treated her when she came to visit him. His churlishness had been uncalled for. Yes, Turner’s nerves had been frayed because of what Louisa told him, but Tessa had been extraordinarily supportive these past couple of weeks and she deserved better from him.

  Deep down, Turner was aware it wasn’t merely the news about Jacqueline that had contributed to his boorish behavior toward Tessa. It was also that when he saw her cavorting with her friends in the snow, it shattered his illusion she fancied him the way he was drawn to her. He couldn’t blame her for that. He was too burdened with responsibilities, too stodgy and probably too old for someone as vivacious as Tessa. Not that he’d seriously considered the possibility of courtship, exactly, but he had allowed himself to imagine there was a spark of romance between them.

  How embarrassing, he thought. I haven’t courted for so long I misinterpreted Tessa’s attentiveness as attraction. While he couldn’t tell Tessa where he’d gone on Saturday because it would mean either admitting he’d intended to pick her up from work or confiding he’d contacted Louisa, he at least could apologize for how he’d behaved when she paid him a visit.
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  His mind made up, he gently lowered Mercy into her cradle. After praying over her, he crept to his room as quietly as he could. Tending to an upset baby had been more grueling than his most difficult day at the shop and he was beat, but he was still too worried about Mercy to fall asleep. So he pulled a pillow and a quilt into her room and arranged them on the floor, where he eventually drifted into slumber.

  Turner was awoken hours later by the sound of what he thought was a coyote yipping and he leaped to his feet, confused about where he was. Then he realized it was Mercy who was howling. Stumbling to the crib in the dark, Turner murmured, “I’m here, Mercy. Your onkel is here.”

  He slid his hand beneath her back and drew her to his chest. Her clothes were damp so he turned on the lamp to change her diaper. Although he hurried through the task as quickly as he could, she cried the whole time. When he lifted her again, his cheek brushed her head. It seemed hot. She has a fever! Panicking, Turner wasted no time with a coat—he simply bundled Mercy in the quilt from the floor and charged out of the house down the hill to Tessa’s. She’d know what to do.

  He was startled to find her waiting with the door open and the kitchen lamp on. Her luxurious hair hung loosely past the blue shawl draped around her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, my schnuck little haws, hmm?” she purred to Mercy and extended her arms to take the baby from Turner.

  Turner handed Mercy to her, spouting, “I’m afraid it’s the stomach flu. She’s been fussy all day and she didn’t finish any of her feedings. She has a fever—feel her head. She’s hot, isn’t she?”

  Tessa put her lips to the baby’s forehead. Mercy was already quieting, as if she knew she was in good hands again. “She seems a little warm, but I don’t think she’s actually hot. See how she just rubbed her ear? She might have an earache,” Tessa said.

  “An earache? She’ll need to see a doctor for that, won’t she?” Turner asked, but he didn’t allow Tessa to answer. “Can it wait until the morning, or should we take her to the emergency room? But if we do that, how will we explain whose bobbel she is—neh, neh, I don’t even care about that. I’ll go hitch the horse—”

  “Shush!” Tessa demanded, carrying Mercy toward the parlor, lightly jiggling her as she walked. “An earache doesn’t necessarily mean an ear infection. Some babies pull at their ears when they’re tired. Or she might be teething.”

  “How can we tell what’s wrong with her?”

  Instead of answering, Tessa ran her finger along Mercy’s bottom gum. “Jah, there it is, right there in front. It’s a little early, but my sister-in-law’s son started teething at three months, too. Or it’s possible Mercy is older than I think she is.”

  “You’re sure she doesn’t have a fever?” Turner asked. He hoped his question wouldn’t offend Tessa but he’d never forgive himself if he neglected to help Mercy while she was under his care.

  Tessa pressed her lips to Mercy’s forehead a second time before replying thoughtfully, “As I said, she seems a little warm, but not really feverish. Sometimes babies run warm when they’re teething. But if it makes you feel better, we can take her temperature. I don’t have a baby thermometer, do you?”

  “Neh, but I could go get one. Some of the Englisch convenience stores are open until midnight.”

  “It’s already twelve forty-five,” she told him. “But there’s a convenience store on the border of Highland Springs that’s open twenty-four hours a day. Instead of turning onto the main route, you follow Old County Way all the way until you come to a fork in the road. Bear left and the store is on the right.”

  In all of his searching for Jacqueline, Turner had never been to the store Tessa described and he wondered how she knew it was open all night. It hardly mattered. “You don’t mind staying up with Mercy until I return?”

  “Of course not. I’ve missed her,” Tessa said. “But first I’ll need you to bring an extra pair of pajamas down from your house. I’ve got windle but I’ll need more formula and spare bottles. It probably makes sense for us to keep her supplies at both houses anyway, instead of carting them back and forth.”

  Shooting out the door and up the hill to his house, Turner gathered the items Tessa required and sprinted back to the daadi haus. When he returned, Tessa was swaying in half twists with the baby in her arms. Mercy’s cries had stopped completely and she was gripping a lock of Tessa’s hair.

  “I think you’re going to have to untangle me,” Tessa told Turner. “She won’t let go.”

  Turner spoke in a soothing voice. “Neh, neh, Mercy. Don’t pull. We mustn’t hurt Tessa.”

  His hands trembled as he gingerly pried Mercy’s fingers, one by one, from Tessa’s tresses. He was close enough to smell Tessa’s shampoo, and whether it was the fragrance, the nearness to her or his anxiety about the baby, he felt heady with nervousness.

  Once he freed Tessa’s hair from Mercy’s clutches, Turner uttered, “I’ll be back soon,” in a husky voice and started toward the door.

  “Turner, wait,” Tessa said, stopping him midstride. “I’m confident Mercy will be fine—she seems more comfortable already. Getting a thermometer is only a precaution for your sake, so there’s no need to rush. You must slow down or you’ll have an accident. Go put on your coat and hat, and don’t forget to take money with you or you’ll end up making the trip twice.”

  As he turned and faced her, Turner ruefully thought she had never appeared as lovely to him as she did in that moment. It wasn’t her glossy hair, chocolate-colored eyes or flawless complexion that made her so: it was her gracious care about him, despite his cloddish behavior toward her. He felt like falling to his knees to ask her forgiveness, but there would be time for that later.

  “Denki for the reminders,” he said. “You always seem to think of everything.”

  Tessa’s directions led him straight to the convenience store. It wasn’t surprising he’d never visited this particular shop; it wasn’t one of the chain stores he usually frequented and from the outside it looked deserted. Inside, he discovered it wasn’t as well kept as the other stores and he searched the dusty aisles hoping to spot the kind of baby thermometer Mercy needed.

  “You need help finding something?” a young Englisch woman asked. She wore heavy eye makeup and ripped jeans, and her left nostril was pierced with three silver hoops.

  “I’m looking for a baby thermometer,” Turner said.

  “Oh, yeah, they should be right over here,” the woman replied, leading him to an assortment of gauze, aspirin and antiseptics. She scanned the items hanging from small metal rods, but didn’t find what he was looking for. “Zander,” she called to a blond guy wearing a sweatshirt monogrammed with the letters of a local college. “Do we have any baby thermometers?”

  Please, Gott, let them be in stock, Turner prayed.

  “Try the next aisle over, the one by the diapers,” he shouted from his perch behind the cash register. “Jackie was shelving inventory. She probably messed up again.”

  “Yep, here it is,” the girl said, holding a box up victoriously. “Somebody needs to train that girl better.”

  Zander snickered. “Not gonna happen. Artie canned her on Saturday. She barely made it through the trial period.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” the girl replied, bringing Turner’s purchase to the counter for him. “I really liked Jacqueline. She was sweet.”

  Jacqueline? Turner felt as if his legs were made of rubber. His hand shook as he reached to give Zander a twenty-dollar bill. “Is Jacqueline Amish by any chance?” he asked casually.

  Zander’s laugh exposed white, perfectly aligned teeth. “She didn’t dress like it, but that would explain a lot if she was. Like why she always asked me to ring up the magazines and booze.”

  Turner steadied himself against the checkout counter. “Do you know where she lives?”

  Zander squinted at Turner suspiciously.
“Why? Is she your wife? Kind of young for you, but I guess that’s the Amish way, huh?”

  Turner held his tongue. If he weren’t so desperate to find Jacqueline, he would never disclose his personal situation to a stranger, especially not to an Englischer with a foul mouth. “I think she might be my sister.” He repeated, “Do you know where she lives?”

  “Never asked.” Zander handed Turner his change, pushed the plastic bag containing the thermometer across the counter and said dismissively, “Have a good night.”

  But Turner wasn’t going to be dissuaded so easily. “Listen, my sister is... She’s missing and I think the girl who worked here might be her. Did she have long dark hair and blue eyes?”

  “Nope, this Jacqueline is a blonde,” Zander said. “With green eyes. There’s no way she’s your sister.”

  The young woman tipped her head. “Why are you telling him she—”

  Zander cut her off. “You’d better go reshelve Jackie’s mistakes, Chloe. Artie won’t be pleased if he finds out you’ve been standing around yapping instead of working.”

  Chloe opened her mouth but then closed it again and disappeared into the back room. Turner got the sense she was about to tell him something about the girl who worked there, but he couldn’t very well follow her. Besides, he needed to get back to Mercy. Deciding he’d return the next day to talk to the staff again, he exited the store.

  He wasn’t halfway across the parking lot when a female called to him.

  “Hey, mister!” Chloe was carrying a big plastic bag of garbage. “Listen, I’ve got to be quick or Zander will come looking for me. That girl, Jackie. She does too have dark hair and blue eyes.”

  Turner knew it! Denki, Lord, he immediately prayed, his hopes burgeoning. But why did Zander lie about what Jacqueline looked like?

  Chloe continued speaking as they walked toward the dumpster. “I don’t know where she lives, but our manager, Artie, might. He usually shows up between five thirty and six each night. But the thing is, well, he’s paying some of us under the table, ’cause we’re minors. Not everyone has a valid work permit, if you know what I mean.”

 

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