The Amish Midwife's Hope

by Barbara Cameron

  She nodded. The bishop and his fraa had invited her to supper last fall when Michael was visiting. Rebecca had been very aware the man was interested in her. But it hadn’t been mutual.

  “He’s a nice man,” she said politely, choosing her words carefully. “I’m schur he’ll find several maedels interested in him here.”

  He studied her, his lips pursed, before finally nodding.

  Rebecca knew what the bishop was thinking. Widows and widowers were gently encouraged to remarry after a period of mourning. Married couples provided stability to the community. Rebecca was schur that it was on the bishop’s mind that she’d been a widow for a few years now.

  “Samuel Miller and his dochder seem to be settling in nicely. I’m told he’s been helping his schweschder Hannah move into her new place while her mann completes the sale of their farm back in Indiana. Heard Samuel was showing her around today.”

  The Amish grapevine was working well as usual, she thought with an inward smile. He wouldn’t ask about Hannah’s visit, of course. Pregnancy was very much a private matter.

  “I think it’s wunderbaar Samuel will have family close by,” she said. “Lizzie is thrilled to have Jacob here.”

  “Samuel’s onkel was a gut man. If Samuel is anything like him, he will be wilkumm here.”

  “Indeed.” She told herself she should be ashamed for enjoying the look on his face as he tried to hide his frustration at not getting her to say how she felt about Samuel. After all, he was just trying to assure her happiness. Abram spoke often about the joys of a happy marriage.

  “Well, I’d better be going,” he said after a long moment of silence. “I have one more call to make before supper.” He stood up and donned his jacket and hat. “You have a nice evening, Rebecca.”

  “You, too. Say hello to Ruby.”

  She closed the door and turned to clear the table. Why did she have to be so picky? she asked herself. Ruby’s nephew had been pleasant enough. She missed being married, having someone to love and care for and being loved and cared for. It was lonely sometimes—there was no denying it. And she wanted kinner. Wanted them too much, especially when she was around a special kind like Lizzie…She was like a beam of sunshine on a cloudy day.

  The oven timer buzzed. She shut it off and pulled the loaves of bread out and set them to cool. After she turned off the oven, she left the door open to warm the room.

  She put the dishes in the sink and stood at the stove stirring the soup while she stared out the window at the gray gloom of the day. With a sigh she ladled a bowl of soup and sat to eat her solitary supper.

  Just as she was about to take her first bite, the cellphone rang in the pocket of her apron. It was Abigail, who was not due for a month yet. Rebecca listened to Abigail’s worries about having contractions and promised she’d be right over. She poured her soup back into the kettle, put the lid on it, then pulled on her jacket and bonnet and headed out into the wet.

  * * *

  Samuel heard a buggy pulling into the drive as he fed his horses. He walked to the doors, wondering who would be out on such a day.

  Abram, the bishop, climbed out of the buggy.

  “I’m out here!” he called before the man could head for the house.

  Abram trudged toward the barn, rain dripping off his black felt hat.

  “Is everything allrecht?” he asked as he gestured the man inside.

  “Ya, just making a few calls. You’re my last one.” He took off his hat and shook raindrops from its brim as he sat down on a bale of hay. “Are you settling in allrecht?”

  “Still a few boxes to unpack. I’ve been trying to help my schweschder since her mann is still back in Indiana.”

  “It’s gut to help family. I thought I’d stop by with my fraa and welcome her tomorrow.”

  “I’m schur she’d like that.”

  Abram nodded. “I saw your buggy parked at Rebecca Zook’s house.”

  Unless things were very different here, Samuel knew there would be no questions about his taking Hannah to visit the local midwife.

  Schur enough, Abram changed the subject to Samuel’s plans for spring planting. “We’re all here to help you any way we can.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “How does Lizzie feel about her new home?”

  “She loves it. Teacher Mary Liz tells me she’s adjusting just fine.”

  The horses had finished their grain, so he pulled carrots out of his pocket and fed them the treat.

  “Would you like to go inside and have a cup of coffee?”

  Abram shook his head as he got to his feet.

  “I’ll be going on home to my supper and let you get to yours.” He walked to the barn doors with Samuel.

  “Still raining,” he said as he followed Abram to his buggy. “I’m schur you’ll be glad to get home and be warm and dry.”

  They glanced down the road as they heard a buggy approaching. Rebecca waved as she drove past them and he returned the gesture, watching her for a long moment.

  “Ahem!”

  He turned to find Abram studying him intently.

  “Guess she’s out on a call, too,” Samuel said. He felt his face grow warm as Abram looked at him thoughtfully.

  “It’s hard to be a widower,” Abram said quietly. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you my story, but I lost my first fraa and my two-year-old sohn in a buggy accident.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Abram stared off into the distance for a long moment. “I thought my life was over and I raged against God for taking them from me. But then finally I began to heal. Two years later I met my Ruby. We’ve been married thirty-five years.”

  He looked at Samuel. “Do you believe there is more than one woman for us to love in our lives, young Samuel?”

  He shrugged. “Some say.” He waited for the bishop to suggest some maedels he should meet, but Abram just climbed inside his buggy and picked up the reins.

  “Gut-n-owed, Samuel!” the bishop called out.

  “Gut-n-owed.”

  With that, Abram lifted a hand and drove off.

  Samuel felt a little surprised as he hurried through the drizzle and went into his house. He washed up and started a pot of coffee then poked through the refrigerator. Hannah had invited Lizzie to spend the night, so he was on his own tonight. As he sat at the table eating a simple supper of leftovers Hannah had sent home with him, he thought that the house was too quiet.

  He supposed every parent wanted a break now and then from the endless chatter and multitude of questions and needs and complaints. The responsibilities. But he wasn’t accustomed to this much quiet.

  He washed and dried his dishes and then took a cup of coffee into the living room and sat in his recliner. Tonight he’d read a couple chapters of a book or the latest issue of The Budget instead of a bedtime story. It would be a pleasant change, he told himself.

  But he just sat there and wished he was stretched out on Lizzie’s bed, her little head on his shoulder as he read her a favorite book and gave her a glance now and then to see if she’d drifted off. Sometimes they read one book. Most often they read several. It was their favorite time of the day.

  Sometimes he wondered how he would have made it through the grief of losing Ruth if it weren’t for Lizzie…not that he thought he was over grieving. Did anyone ever get over such a loss? But what if he hadn’t had Lizzie, hadn’t needed to get up every day and take care of her? If she wasn’t around to do something to make him smile and look outside himself?

  How had Rebecca coped?

  He blinked. Why had she suddenly popped into his thoughts?

  Maybe it was just because he’d seen her drive past as he walked with Abram to his buggy.

  He wondered if Abram had talked to her about remarriage. It seemed to him that it must be a lot for her to manage having a job and taking care of a home by herself. While farm work was everyone’s work, and women and girls joined the men and the boys in the field when ne
eded, the women still took care of the house for the most part and the men the fields.

  Sometimes he wished he’d paid more attention to how to cook while Ruth was alive. He managed to put together meals halfway decently but it would be gut to have Hannah here since it was a habit of hers to invite him for supper often since Ruth died. She’d taught him the basics of cooking and been happy to show him the mysteries of washing machines and how to avoid shrinking Lizzie’s dresses or making the kind of mistakes it seemed only men made when they did laundry for the first time. He had to admit he was looking forward to Lizzie growing old enough to help around the house, although it probably would be wise to have her learn from her Aenti Hannah since she had much better housekeeping skills.

  He reached for his coffee and found it cold. Getting up, he wandered into the kitchen to reheat the pot. While he waited, he glanced out the window. It was still raining.

  The weather forecast predicted rain for another two days. Now that he had the house nearly settled, he needed to chop wood and get the house prepared for the coming cold weather. He found himself wondering if the men of the community helped Rebecca with the farm like they did for widows back in Indiana. Back there the men made schur the widows had wood stacked and any necessary repairs made.

  Did single men drop by to offer assistance the way single women paid visits with baked goods and casseroles? Rebecca was an attractive woman who undoubtedly wouldn’t lack for suitors.

  Well, he was a man who needed to make his own decisions in his own time. He wasn’t letting the bishop pressure him about anything—especially about looking for a fraa.

  Lost in thought, he almost boiled the coffeepot dry. He poured a mug and as he left the kitchen, took the mail from where he’d tossed it on the counter and carried it into the living room. There were bills and seed catalogs he needed to look over for spring planting. And it was time to think about setting up his workbench and tools in the barn and going into town and introducing himself to the owners of the stores that sold Amish-made furniture and crafts. Winter was a season that gave a farmer time to repair equipment and work a second job that helped make ends meet. Samuel had learned how to build furniture from his dat, and his dollhouses and old-fashioned cradles had been popular with the Englisch tourists back in Indiana. He’d take in his samples and see what the local storekeepers needed.

  He sighed. So much was new here. When he’d made the decision to move and put down new roots, he realized he’d only had a vague idea of what it entailed. Here he needed to make himself and Lizzie a new home, learn how to grow different crops, help his little girl to be comfortable in a new schul, meet new people and make new friends. Become part of a new church family and community.

  It was a lot to absorb for schur. But in the months since the move he hadn’t once thought he saw Ruth as he rounded a corner or thought he saw a glimpse of her as he passed a shop. Nee, her ghost had stayed back in Indiana.

  So while he’d always keep the memory of her tucked in a corner of his heart, he thought he was moving in a forward direction by seeing Rebecca.

  Chapter Seven

  Rebecca couldn’t help praying a boppli would decide today was his or her birthday.

  She just wasn’t in the mood for the first in a series of what would be a long list of fall weddings.

  So when Abigail rushed up to her inside the bride’s house, she hoped it was to say she was in labor.

  “I’m so sorry about the other day,” Abigail said. “I was so schur I was having contractions.”

  “You were,” Rebecca told her. “They were really hard contractions. But they were Braxton-Hicks—false labor, like I told you. It’s quite common.”

  “Well, I just wish the boppli would come on,” Abigail confessed. “It feels like I’ve been pregnant forever.”

  Rebecca smiled. “I think every mudder feels that way. Especially after being pregnant during one of our hot Pennsylvania summers.” She patted the seat next to her. “Would you like to sit with me?”

  “I promised my mudder I’d sit with her. She’s not feeling well, but she wanted to come today.”

  “I hope it’s nothing serious?”

  Abigail shook her head. “The rainy weather bothers her arthritis. I told her we don’t have to stay all day.”

  Rebecca hoped an imminent birth would mean she wouldn’t have to, either.

  An excited squeal caught her attention. She glanced up to see Lizzie rushing down the rows of seats.

  “Hi, Rebecca! Do you like my new dress?” She twirled in it and beamed up at her.

  With her blonde braids and bright smile, she looked like a little sunbeam on a gray day.

  “Aenti Hannah made it for me.”

  Samuel was several steps behind his dochder, Jacob at his side. “I don’t know where she found the time with moving,” he said to Rebecca after greeting her.

  “I’m schur she enjoyed sewing something for a little girl.”

  Lizzie grabbed her dat’s hand. “Daedi, can I sit with Rebecca?”

  “May I?”

  “Silly Daedi,” she teased. “You have to sit with the men.” When her father continued to stare at her soberly, Lizzie giggled and squeezed his hand. “May I, Daedi?”

  “You may, if it’s allrecht with Rebecca.” He glanced over at her.

  “Of course.” She smiled warmly at them both.

  Lizzie sat down as her father and cousin made their way to the men’s side.

  Her mudder joined her, slipping into the empty seat beside her.

  “Where’s Katie Ann?” Rebecca asked.

  “She’s why I ran late,” Miriam whispered. “She couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear. I made her park the buggy. She’ll have to find a seat at the back. Your bruders are out of town on a construction job.” She smiled at Lizzie. “Guder mariye, Lizzie.”

  “Guder mariye, Miriam,” Lizzie responded.

  A few minutes later, the service began.

  Rebecca gazed at Lizzie fondly. If only my kind had lived, I might have had a little dochder like this sitting next to me. The thought came out of nowhere, startling Rebecca with its intensity.

  She must have made some slight movement because Lizzie touched her hand and whispered, “Rebecca? Are you allrecht?”

  She met Lizzie’s curious eyes. “Hmm?”

  “Are you allrecht?”

  She nodded and stared at Lizzie’s small hand on hers. Unbearably touched, she turned her hand and squeezed Lizzie’s, feeling comforted.

  As voices lifted in song and then Elmer, the lay minister, spoke of the sanctity of marriage, Rebecca wondered if others who had been married reflected on their own weddings. Her heart had been so filled with joy the day she’d married Amos. She’d loved him from the time she was ten and thought they’d grow old together. But they’d only been married for two years when he’d died.

  Looking down at Lizzie, she couldn’t help feeling a little envious that Samuel had had a dochder to find comfort in after his wife died. Especially one so sensitive to moods.

  She stole a look at Samuel sitting with the men and boys, and their gazes locked. What a handsome man, she thought, his blue eyes clear and direct. He was so different from Amos in looks and personality and yet she found him so compelling. It surprised her sometimes that she could be attracted to two such dissimilar men.

  His nephew tugged at his sleeve and whispered a question. Samuel nodded, his eyes still on hers, and Jacob slipped from his seat and headed to the back of the room. He probably needed to go to the bathroom, she thought. She wondered if Samuel wanted a sohn. Many men did. And even if they didn’t care if they had a sohn or dochder, they wanted kinner. She frowned.

  He broke their eye contact to glance down at Lizzie, then lifted a brow, silently asking Rebecca if there was a problem. She shook her head, smiled slightly, and returned her attention to the service.

  Alvin Stoltzfus and Rose Schrock had waited a long time for this day to come. So many things had happened to them aft
er they announced their intention to be married last fall. Alvin had been injured in a buggy accident and then Rose, always a bit fragile, had come down with pneumonia and been bedridden for months. After she recovered, her mudder had become ill with the cancer and Rose had taken over running the household as a gut dochder should. Her mudder was fine now, thank God, and it was finally time for Alvin and Rose to start their own life.

  Love for the couple who’d struggled so radiated in the room as the two walked down the aisle together toward Elmer and said their vows.

  All in God’s timing.

  Rebecca listened to the vows: “Do you promise…this if he/she should be afflicted with bodily weakness, sickness, or some other circumstance that you will care for him/her as is fitting for a Christian husband/wife?

  “Do you solemnly promise to one another that you will love and bear and be patient with each other and shall not separate from each other until dear God shall part you from each other through death?”

  Soon after, they were pronounced mann and fraa.

  Lizzie leaned over. “Now we get cake?”

  Rebecca smiled. “Soon. We eat first. Food before cake.”

  Alvin and Rose accepted the well wishes of their family and friends as chairs were moved and tables were set up for the noon meal. The rich scents of baked chicken and roasht drifted out from the kitchen, making Rebecca’s mouth water. Lizzie left her to admire the wedding cake on a table laden with pies and cookies.

  “Lizzie loves weddings.”

  Rebecca turned to find Samuel standing beside her. “She wanted to know when we could eat the cake as soon as the wedding was over.”

  He chuckled. “That’s my Lizzie. She loves cake. Any flavor.”

  “I like cake,” Jacob spoke up.

  “You do? What kind?” Samuel asked him as he stroked a hand over the boy’s shiny brown hair.

  “Chocolate.”

  “Me, too.”

  Rebecca glanced around. “Where’s Hannah?”

  “She wasn’t feeling well so I brought Jacob.”

  “Should I stop by to see her?”