The Amish Midwife's Hope
Page 3
Miriam shrugged. “Everybody knows your business in a small community.” Her eyes were kind. “I know it hurt you when he didn’t ask you out again.”
“It did. But I understand.”
“I’m not schur I do.”
Surprised, Rebecca stared at her. “What?”
“I understand your job reminds him of how his wife died,” Miriam said slowly. “But you had nothing to do with her death. And think about it. Your mann died in a farming accident, but you still live on it.”
“He loved this farm and made a wonderful home for us here. I don’t blame the farm.” She sipped her tea. “I did blame God for a time, though. I was so angry with Him for taking Amos from me.”
“I don’t know many people who don’t go through that. Do you?”
“Nee.” Rebecca rose to pour them both more hot water and thoughtfully dunked another tea bag in her cup. “Samuel’s dochder, Lizzie, doesn’t have her dat’s prejudice about midwives. She sat and talked to me for a long time yesterday.” Remembering, she smiled. “Well, that was probably because I was holding Lovina’s boppli. Apparently Lizzie really wants a boppli right now.”
She told her mudder about how Lizzie had asked her dat if they could have one and how she’d thrown him off balance with her question.
Miriam laughed. “She sounds precious.”
“She is.”
Her mudder reached across the table to touch her hand. “You really like her.”
Rebecca shrugged. “Of course. Who wouldn’t?”
“You’ll have a kind of your own one day,” Miriam said gently.
“Maybe.” She took a deep breath and stood. “I’m going to make some lunch. What shall we have?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Nee. I’m hungerich.” Rebecca opened the refrigerator and looked inside. “We have some leftover roast chicken, but I think I should make it into a casserole for supper. Maybe some soup and a grilled cheese sandwich?”
“Sounds perfect on a chilly fall day.”
Rebecca settled into a comfortable chair to knit after lunch, but she found she was too restless. Shaking her head, she got up and went into the kitchen. Her mudder came in for a cup of coffee a little while later and found her kneading bread.
“I thought I’d find you napping since you looked so tired at lunch,” Miriam told her as she prepared the percolator and set it on the stove. “Mmm, you baked some cookies. They’ll be wunderbaar with some coffee.”
“Just feeling a little restless,” Rebecca said. “I haven’t had much time to bake lately.”
“I know you like to do it.”
“Amos always liked his sweets. Didn’t matter how well my early efforts turned out, he always gobbled them up.”
“I miss him, too. He had such a sweet nature.” Miriam poured them each a cup of coffee and sat at the table. “But Dochder, it’s time you married again.”
Rebecca brought the heel of her hand down on the lump of dough with a little too much enthusiasm. “Maybe I’m going to end up en alt maedel,” she said darkly, remembering how she’d felt seeing Samuel with Sarah Fisher.
Miriam smiled. “I don’t think you can call yourself that after you’ve been married.”
“Maybe not.” She turned the dough into an oiled bowl and covered it with a cloth to rise. “I’m not worried about being en alt maedel. I’m not schur I’m ready to get married again, at least not for a while. It’s only been two years since Amos died.”
Well, she’d felt something for Samuel when they’d met and gone out, but then he’d backed away…
“You’re too young to feel that way. Why, you have your whole life ahead of you. You should have kinner as much as you love them.”
“Maybe I’m not meant to have kinner.”
“Lieb, having a miscarriage doesn’t mean you won’t have a kind. You know better.”
“I know, I know.” Rebecca sighed. “I’m a midwife. I know that logically, but sometimes I’m just like anyone else and wonder if I’ll get pregnant again.” She shook her head. “I guess I’m a little moody today.”
“I think you should have taken a nap. Things look different when we’re overtired.”
“I suppose. Too late now. I’ll go to bed early.”
Later, after her mudder went home, she got the chicken from the refrigerator and set about assembling the ingredients for the casserole. Early supper, early bedtime. She had lunch planned with her freund Annie and a full afternoon of prenatal checkups and childbirth classes tomorrow. There was no way she could be moody on such a day.
Schur, God hadn’t blessed her with a mann for very long or a kind of her own, but He worked His plan for her in other ways by making her helpful and her gifts useful.
* * *
Samuel was used to an overly talkative female.
After all, he lived with six-year-old Lizzie.
But he’d never met anyone as talkative as Sarah Fisher.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if she talked about someone other than herself. Or didn’t gossip so much.
He just had to hope she wound down soon, although he strongly doubted she’d fall asleep the way his dochder did after a five-minute ride in the buggy.
“I think you’ll be happy living here,” she said. “Your dochder, Marian, too.”
“Lizzie,” he corrected.
“Hmm?”
“Her name is Lizzie.”
“Oh, sorry. Who’s watching her today?”
“Waneta, my neighbor.” Before she could gossip about the woman, he slowed as they approached a farm stand. “Mind if we stop? Lizzie loves apples. I think I’ll get some.” He pulled the buggy over to the side of the road. “Want anything?”
She nodded. “I’ll get some Granny Smith apples and make you some of my special apple dumplings.”
There was one gut thing about being a bachelor, he couldn’t help thinking. Women felt he needed feeding. Maedels looking for a mann, especially. Since he’d moved here, he’d been given so many loaves of fresh-baked bread. Pans of cinnamon buns. Ham-and-potato casseroles and chicken-noodle casseroles. Dozens and dozens of cookies, which Lizzie always enjoyed. Now Sarah was going to bake him apple dumplings.
He’d heard the old saying about the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach and hoped he wasn’t that shallow.
But apple dumplings were a favorite of his…
Maybe he could get used to Sarah’s talkativeness.
They got out of the buggy and chose their apples. After they paid for them, Samuel put them in the back seat. As he checked for traffic and pulled back onto the road, Sarah began talking again.
A half hour later when Samuel dropped her off at her house, he was grateful he’d just suggested an afternoon drive and not a meal. He breathed a sigh of relief as he savored the silence.
As he passed Rebecca’s house, he was surprised to see her out in the front yard by her mailbox again and felt compelled to stop.
“Nice day,” he said and winced inwardly that he couldn’t come up with something more inspired.
“It is. Did you have a nice drive?” she asked politely.
“I feel like I’m getting to know the area better. Did you have a nice afternoon?” he asked, feeling he should.
She nodded. “I did. I don’t often have time to write letters.” She stared down at the one in her hands, looked thoughtful, then glanced up at him. “Samuel, I’m sorry about your fraa. I heard how she died.”
“Danki.” He gazed off into the distance. “You never expect to lose someone at what should be the happiest time of your life.”
“I wondered if that was why you didn’t ask me out again. Because you found out I’m a midwife.”
“You’re direct.”
She shrugged. “It seems best.”
He stared out at the road ahead. “I have to admit it bothered me at first. But I’ve thought about it and it isn’t fair to you to let that make a difference between you and me.”
“It’s hard to accept losing someone,” she said quietly. “Amos was happy and healthy and working on the farm he loved one day and he was gone the next.”
“We both know about loss.”
Rebecca nodded. “Too much.” She took a deep breath. “It’s such a lovely day. Maybe I’ll go for a walk.” She started to put the letter in the mailbox and then frowned. “Oh, I forgot a stamp.”
“Here, I have some,” he said as he reached for his wallet.
“Danki. I’ll bring you one to replace it when I see you in church again.”
“No need. I keep plenty on hand so Lizzie can write her grosseldres back in Indiana. She sends them a letter every week.”
“They must love to hear from her.”
“I feel guilty that Lizzie doesn’t get to see them,” he found himself confessing.
“Maybe they’ll visit at Christmas.”
Samuel studied her and saw genuine kindness in her big brown eyes. “Maybe I should have Lizzie ask them.”
“How could they resist if she does?” she asked and smiled at him.
How could he resist her? he asked himself. Then he realized she was saying something. “I’m sorry, what?”
“How is Lizzie?”
“Gut. Thank you for being patient with her at church. She seems to be set on bopplin lately.”
She laughed. “I noticed.”
He liked the way she laughed. The way she didn’t flirt or chatter. It wasn’t fair to compare maedels, but he found himself doing so.
He remembered how unhappy Lizzie had been when he’d told her he was going to take Sarah for a ride. “Sarah Fisher?” she’d asked and made a face. She was usually a bright, cheerful kind with such high energy. She loved dancing and twirling around so much she’d make herself dizzy. That was why he’d teased her with the nickname Dizzy Lizzie.
Today she’d only brightened up when she found out she’d get to play at her new freund’s house.
It gave him an idea.
“Actually I was just thinking I’d take Lizzie for ice cream. Maybe you know a gut place?”
“Schur, there’s—”
“Nee, I meant, maybe you could show us?”
He watched her hesitate. Just when he thought she’d turn him down, she nodded.
“I need to go turn the oven off. I have supper cooking early.”
“I’ll wait.”
He sat back and thought about what he’d just done. Lizzie would be thrilled, of course, and not just because they were going for a treat. It was obvious that she liked Rebecca. Maybe it was because Rebecca had indulged her by talking to her about Lovina’s boppli after church. Lizzie had continued to talk about Rebecca on the way home.
If he married again—and he fervently hoped he would one day—it would be important that Lizzie love the woman and she love Lizzie. But he was getting ahead of himself. He and Rebecca and Lizzie were just going for ice cream. He was lucky she was willing to go for a drive after she’d seen him and Sarah earlier…
Rebecca returned and climbed into the buggy.
“I had an interesting letter yesterday,” he told her as he checked for traffic and pulled out onto the road. “Hannah, one of my schweschders, is moving here soon. Onkel Isaiah owned a lot of property here, as you know. He knew his schweschder—my mudder—wanted to move to Indiana with her mann—my dat—but he always hoped their kinner would want to move back here and take over what he had since he and his fraa never had any. So he left us the farms and some land.”
He glanced at her. “You’ll be meeting Hannah when she arrives. She says she’s going to have a boppli in the winter. It’s her second.”
“That’s wunderbaar. Lizzie will be thrilled. Are you feeling more at home here?”
“I am. But my onkel raised different crops than I did back in Indiana, so I need to do some research before I order seeds for spring planting. And Lizzie seems to be adjusting to our new life.”
Rebecca nodded and glanced around at their surroundings. “Where is Lizzie today?”
“She discovered that a little girl about her age lives on the farm next to us.”
“Naomi.”
“Ya. Naomi’s mudder said she’d watch her for me today.”
“Have you had a chance to talk to Naomi’s dat? I’m schur he’d be happy to give you advice about crops and such. He and your onkel were friends, not just neighbors.”
“Gut idea. I met him once when we visited my onkel.”
The girls were playing in the front yard when they drove up. Lizzie ran up to the buggy.
“Rebecca! Hi!” She turned to Samuel, looking confused. “I thought you were going for a ride with Sarah.”
“My dochder is direct, too,” Samuel said ruefully. “I did, Lizzie. Rebecca’s going for a ride with us now.”
She squealed and jumped up and down.
“Go tell Naomi’s mudder we’re going now and thank her for letting you play here today.”
Lizzie ran off to do as she was told and when she returned, she climbed into the back seat.
“I asked Rebecca to come along to show us where we should get ice cream.”
“Yay!”
Samuel discovered he didn’t need to say another word. Lizzie immediately began chattering with Rebecca. It was clear Lizzie preferred her to Sarah.
Interesting.
Things were just getting so complicated. He was the kind of man who looked at things, thought about them, and then made a decision he tended to stick with. He’d decided to act on his attraction to Rebecca and date her. Finding out she was a midwife had thrown a wrench into his plans. It brought up memories of that horrible night he’d lost Ruth.
But going out with Sarah had been disappointing. It hadn’t helped that during the drive with her they’d passed by Rebecca standing outside by her mailbox.
He’d told himself that in his search for a fraa, he needed to look at someone other than Rebecca.
Now he realized he needed to have a change of plan. He needed to think about what he really wanted in a fraa.
Chapter Four
Rebecca sensed something was different the moment her friend Mary sat beside her at church.
There was a subtle air of excitement about her this morning. It was more than the way she had finally lost that tense, pale look she’d worn for months after her mann, Ben, had been hurt in a terrible buggy accident last year. The entire Amish community had prayed with her as Ben lay in a coma and then went on to help the couple after Ben woke and had to endure months of physical therapy.
Rebecca watched Mary glance over at Ben in the men’s section, and they exchanged a smile. She forced her gaze away, feeling it was too personal, too intimate.
Yet that feeling of suppressed excitement lingered through the long church service. When it was over, Rebecca couldn’t help it. She had to ask.
“What’s going on? You seem awfully happy this morning.”
Mary looked around and then leaned closer. “Can you keep a secret?” Her eyes sparkled.
“Of course.”
“I’m going to have a boppli!”
“How wunderbaar! Oh, I’d hug you but then people might wonder why.”
“Well, I’ll just imagine your hug! We’re so thrilled. We’ve been wanting a boppli for a long time. I want you to be my midwife, of course.”
“I’d be honored.”
They carried on a conversation in hushed whispers until Ben joined them.
“You told her,” he chided, but he looked happy and his tone held no rebuke.
Mary smiled. “Rebecca will keep the secret.”
“I will,” she promised. “But I don’t know how long Mary will be able to keep it.”
&nb
sp; “You mean because I’ll start to show?”
“Or tell?” Ben added with a grin.
Rebecca laughed. “Nee. Happiness is just radiating off you, Mary. I could feel it without you saying anything.”
“I see the doctor this week. I’ll be talking to you soon.”
“Take care.”
The warm glow Rebecca felt hearing the gut news stayed with her as she mingled with other church members and enjoyed a cup of coffee.
Lizzie bounced up to her. “Hi, Rebecca!”
“Hi, Lizzie!”
“Daedi said to tell you he’s going for the buggy.”
“Then we better get our jackets and meet him outside or he’ll go on to the picnic without us!”
They donned their jackets and walked hand in hand out to the front porch. When she and Samuel had started seeing each other, he hadn’t used the word date and she felt a little relieved. It took the pressure off both of them. So they’d done casual things like drives and lunch at a restaurant this past week and yesterday they’d gone to the local farmer’s market. Rebecca had suggested they go for a picnic after church today and encouraged him to bring Lizzie. Now, seeing the kind’s enthusiasm, she was glad she had done so.
“So where are we going?” Samuel asked her when they climbed inside.
“A little park I think Lizzie will like.” She gave him directions and settled back for the ride.
The park was tiny but a favorite of families in the area. Picnic tables sat beside a small pond, and a small wooden swing set and slide provided entertainment for the children.
Lizzie’s eyes lit up when Samuel parked and she saw the swings. The minute they got out of the buggy she tugged on Samuel’s hand. “Daedi! Push me on the swings!”
“We eat first,” he told her.
Samuel insisted on carrying the wicker basket Rebecca had brought. “Did you pack bricks?” he teased as he set it on a table.
Lizzie climbed on a bench and peered inside the basket. “We have bricks?”
Rebecca laughed. “Nee. Your dat is being silly.”
“Silly Daedi.” She gazed at him adoringly. “Daedi makes silly noises,” she told Rebecca.
“He does?”
Samuel grimaced. “Now’s not the time, Lizzie. Look what Rebecca brought for us to eat.”