The Amish Midwife's Hope

by Barbara Cameron

  Her cellphone rang. “Sorry, I have to get this.” She picked it up and answered the call as she walked into the living room.

  He glanced around the kitchen as he waited. She had a handful of fall flowers in a vase on the table. There were drawings from a kind—a patient’s kind?—on the refrigerator and little pots of herbs sitting on the kitchen windowsill. The table looked fairly new. He wondered if her mann had made it as most did to furnish a new home. Since there had been no kinner, he doubted he’d find traces of peanut butter and jelly underneath like he had on his from a sticky-fingered little girl. The floor was spotless. No peas half-hidden under the leg of the table.

  Rebecca came back into the room, and he saw that she had been crying again.

  “Bad news?”

  She nodded. “There was a…complication. It was serious. Something I’ve only seen once before since I became a midwife.” She pulled a paper napkin from the holder on the table and wiped her cheeks. “It’s just so hard when you lose a boppli.”

  Something about the way she said it made him wonder if there was something more here…like she’d lost one herself. But she was already composing herself, taking a deep breath and sipping her coffee.

  He didn’t like talking about it, but suddenly he felt a need to tell her what had happened to Ruth. He took a deep breath. “Ruth died of something I’d never heard of,” Samuel told her. “The doctor told me it was something called placenta previa. He said it was a rare condition. That last night…Ruth woke me saying she was bleeding. I called nine-one-one and they rushed her to the hospital. We lost the boppli. Then we lost her.”

  She touched his hand. “That must have been terrible to lose both of them. I can’t imagine the pain.” She fell silent. “I haven’t lost both a mudder and a boppli. It’s my worst fear.”

  Samuel stared at her hand and felt deeply touched by her quiet sympathy.

  “It’s not only made me worry about going through a pregnancy with another fraa, it’s made me concerned about Hannah.”

  She squeezed his hand. “She had a healthy boppli and is doing just fine this time,” she said. “Please try not to worry.” He looked up at her and their gazes locked. An awareness passed between them just as it had at the wedding reception. He became uncomfortably aware of how intimate it felt to be sitting here just the two of them alone in her house.

  “Rebecca?”

  “Ya?”

  “I’d like us to go out.”

  “Go out?”

  He nodded. “On a date.”

  “A date?”

  “Ya. A real date. Maybe have supper, just the two of us.” He found himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

  There was a knock on the door; then Miriam, Rebecca’s mudder, breezed in carrying a basket.

  “I thought I’d drop off some bread on my way into town, Rebecca,” she said as she set the basket on the counter. “Guder mariye, Samuel. I thought that was your buggy in the drive.”

  “Guder mariye,” he said, suddenly feeling uneasy.

  “You said you needed a few things,” she said to Rebecca, as she sat down at the table. “Did you make a list?” she asked, acting as if it was natural to find her dochder sitting in the kitchen early in the morning, drinking coffee with a man.

  “I did. I— I’ll get my list and the money.” Rebecca rose and hurried from the room.

  “I should be going,” he said quickly. “I gave Rebecca a ride home when I saw her walking this morning. She was on her way home after seeing a patient.” He got up and put his mug in the sink.

  “You don’t have to leave.”

  “I do. I have chores that I need to attend to. Nice to see you again. Please tell Rebecca I’ll…see her around.”

  Miriam smiled. “I will.”

  He rushed out before Rebecca could return.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rebecca returned to the kitchen with her list and her money.

  She glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Samuel?”

  “Said he had to leave.”

  She stared at her mudder. “Did you say something to him?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like we shouldn’t be here just the two of us?”

  Miriam gave her a stern look. “Have I ever interfered in your life?”

  Shaking her head, Rebecca sat down at the table. “Nee.”

  “But if the bishop happened to pass and see Samuel’s buggy and decided to stop…” Miriam trailed off. She peered at her. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

  “One of my patients lost her boppli.” She bit her lip. “I can’t tell you who.”

  “I’m sorry. We both know what a hard loss it is.” She reached for Rebecca’s hand and squeezed it.

  “Samuel came along as I was walking home. He insisted on giving me a ride, and then when he saw how upset I was, he insisted on coming in for coffee. He helped me calm down.”

  “He seems like a kind man.”

  “He is.”

  “And?” her mother asked pointedly.

  “And?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you at the wedding reception. Especially when you weren’t looking at him.”

  Rebecca blushed, remembering the awareness that had flared when their gazes met.

  “He’s a freund.”

  “I think he wants to be more.”

  She gave her mudder a wry look. “Mamm. What was that you said about not interfering in my life?”

  “It’s not interfering to state the truth. That’s all I’ve done.”

  Rebecca sipped her coffee and found it cold. “I’m sorry, I didn’t offer you any coffee.”

  “I’ve already had two cups this morning. And you’re changing the subject.”

  “Yes, I am.” She rose and heard her mudder chuckle as she discarded the cold coffee, poured herself a new mug, then sat again.

  “Would you like to go into town with me? Do some shopping?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t. I have patients this morning.”

  Miriam patted her hand. “Well, then I’ll get going.” She picked up the list and the money and tucked them into her pocket. Leaning down, she kissed Rebecca’s cheek. “See you later.”

  Patients began arriving a few minutes later. Some brought their kinner and they happily sat at the little table and chairs Amos had made and read books and colored and chattered. The morning sped by. When she finished with the last appointment, she headed for the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. By then, the cinnamon roll she’d eaten that morning was just a fond memory.

  She had her head inside the refrigerator when she heard a timid knock on the back door.

  Emma Graber poked her head in. “Can I talk to you?”

  “Schur. Come on in.”

  Emma was one of the teenaged members of the church. Rebecca didn’t know her as well as some others since she was the eldest of ten kinner, and when she wasn’t helping her mudder care for them, she worked part-time on a nearby dairy farm.

  Rebecca shut the refrigerator door and set the container of ham salad on the table.

  “Oh, I’m interrupting your lunch.” Emma began backing toward the door.

  Rebecca studied Emma’s pale face. Her eyes were swollen from crying. “It can wait. What’s wrong?”

  She took a deep breath but avoided Rebecca’s gaze. “I…I missed my period. I’m afraid I’m pregnant.”

  Her heart sank. Emma was a maedel and just eighteen.

  “How late are you?”

  “Three weeks.” Her eyes filled. “I wondered if you have a pregnancy test I could use? I haven’t been able to get to town. I could pay you for it next week when I get my check from my job.”

  “Of course I have a test kit you can use. And don’t worry about paying me back. I keep them in the exam room bathroom. In the cabinet under the sink. You can go use it now or take it home—whatever you want.”

  “It’s best if I use it here so my mudder and dat don’t find it in
the trash. Danki, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca reached out to pat her arm gently. “Emma? Everything’s going to be allrecht,” she assured the young girl.

  Her eyes filled. She nodded and rushed off.

  Rebecca returned the ham salad to the refrigerator and moved to the stove to put the teakettle on. She had a feeling they were going to need a cup of tea.

  Minutes ticked by. Right when she was about to go check on Emma, the woman returned to the kitchen. Her cheeks were even whiter and her mouth trembled.

  “It was positive?”

  Emma nodded and covered her face with her hands and wept. Rebecca wrapped her arms around her and let her cry it out. When Emma was finally spent, Rebecca urged her to sit and put a cup of tea in front of her.

  “Early tests can be wrong,” she began. “You’ll want to take another in a week or so to make schur.”

  Emma closed her eyes and shook her head. “Oh, I’m schur. I shouldn’t have—we shouldn’t have.”

  Couples kept their relationships private until an announcement of their upcoming marriage was made.

  But Rebecca had a suspicion who the dat was.

  “Have you told the dat you’re worried about being pregnant?”

  She nodded, eyes downcast.

  “What did he say?” She prayed he had agreed to take responsibility.

  “He said we’d get married, but, Rebecca, we have no money for our own place and his mudder…she just doesn’t like me. I’d hate it if we had to live in their house until we have our own. Especially with a boppli.” She reached for a paper napkin and began crying again. “Oh, what a mess I’ve made of things.”

  “It takes two,” Rebecca said quietly.

  Emma looked up, sniffling. “That’s true.” She sighed. “We wanted to wait a year before we got married. Save up for our own place.”

  “Well, sometimes plans change. Have you said anything to your eldres?”

  “Nee!” she said emphatically. “They’d be so unhappy with me.”

  Some Amish eldres were so strict they even sent their dochders packing. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Emma.

  “Drink your tea and try to calm down. Have another talk with the dat and get another test in two weeks and then you’ll know what to do.”

  Emma took a shaky breath. “I’m glad I came to see you today.”

  Rebecca laid a hand over Emma’s cold one. “I am, too.”

  “I should go. You were about to fix lunch when I came in.”

  Rebecca rose. “Why don’t you have a sandwich with me? I so seldom have company at lunch.”

  Emma hesitated and then she nodded. “That would be nice. Danki.”

  As she gathered up the makings for sandwiches, Rebecca smiled. It would be nice to have company but she had an ulterior motive. By the time they ate, she hoped Emma would be calmer when she went home. The last thing Emma needed was for her eldres to suspect anything.

  “So, do you like ham salad?”

  * * *

  Samuel felt six kinds of foolish as he drove home.

  He told himself he should have stayed to get Rebecca’s answer about going out. But he hadn’t known how long her mudder was going to visit. And he had been concerned the two of them might get a lecture from the woman about being alone together.

  What a dilemma.

  Well, no harm done. He could wait a day or so, and if he didn’t hear from her, he could stop by and ask her again.

  The trouble was once he decided he wanted to do something…he wanted to do it. He and Lizzie shared that impatience.

  He drove on home and busied himself with chores, then started on a furniture project. But he couldn’t get his mind off Rebecca. He wondered how long she had office hours. Were they all day? He didn’t feel he could go back to see because…well, he didn’t want to run into all those expecting ladies.

  If only he had some excuse for going by. He measured and cut the wood needed and laid it aside. Maybe Hannah had an appointment today. She really shouldn’t be taking her sick horse out for another day or two. Ya, there was his excuse. Then he remembered she had two horses she could hitch to her buggy. But maybe she shouldn’t be doing such a chore in her delicate condition.

  He laughed. If she heard him say such a thing, she’d bop him over the head. The woman was strong as an ox. She’d helped her mann with the harvest in her eighth month with her first kind and helped pack up her house in Indiana to move here.

  So he worked and reminded himself he wasn’t some youth enamored of a maedel. A grown man should be thinking of having a productive day. Making a piece of furniture to earn some money during the months when he wasn’t working in the fields. Figuring out what to prepare for supper. He’d never thought he’d find it so hard to actually cook a meal every night.

  Had he let Ruth know how much he appreciated all those delicious meals she’d so lovingly prepared for him and Lizzie? He hoped so.

  Thinking about what to make for supper made him realize it was time for lunch. He’d gone straight to the barn when he came home. All he’d had today was a cinnamon roll at Rebecca’s. A man couldn’t survive on a cinnamon roll.

  He went inside, washed up, and made himself a ham and cheese on rye bread. Then he thought about it and made himself two. He pulled a bag of chips from his secret hiding place—Lizzie could eat a whole bag by herself if she found it—and after starting a pot of coffee, sat down to eat.

  Then it was back out to the barn to work until Lizzie came home and needed attention.

  And back to thinking about Rebecca.

  When the barn door slid open, he jumped and jammed a splinter in his thumb.

  “Daedi! I’m home!”

  He sucked his thumb. “I noticed, Dizzy Lizzie.”

  She laughed at her nickname and ran up to him. She frowned when she reached him. “Why are you sucking your thumb like a boppli?”

  “I just hurt it.”

  “You want me to kiss your boo-boo?” she asked, her blue eyes wide with concern.

  “Nee, I have to get the splinter out.”

  He sucked at it, trying to pull it out with his teeth. Nothing worked. “I need tweezers.”

  “I’ll go get it.”

  “You know where it is?”

  She nodded. “The medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom. Be right back.” She ran off.

  When she didn’t come back in a few minutes, he wondered if she’d stopped by the cookie jar.

  He decided to knock off work for the rest of the day and began putting up his tools. Every time he touched something, he seemed to hit the splinter and have to bite back a bad word. Finally the barn door opened.

  “It’s about time, young lady!” he began.

  And then he saw Lizzie walking in with Rebecca.

  “What are you doing here?” he blurted out.

  “Nice to see you, too,” she said, grinning. “Lizzie called me. Said you hurt yourself.”

  “Lizzie! How did you do that?”

  She handed him his cellphone. He hadn’t even seen her take it from the nearby bench.

  “You have a bright young girl here,” Rebecca told him as she set her medical bag down on the bench. “She looked up my number in our church directory and called me. Said you hurt your hand.”

  “It’s just a splinter.”

  She took his hand and peered at it. “A nice-sized one.”

  “Nothing to be bothering someone with.” He stared down at his hand, feeling strange at how it felt to have it held in both of hers.

  “I like to be bothered.” She took out antiseptic and dabbed it on the splinter, then disinfected a tweezer. Taking his hand in hers again, she held the tweezer over the splinter. “Be brave. I’ll have it out in a moment.”

  He glanced over at Lizzie, who seemed to be bursting at the seams about something. “What is it, Lizzie?”

  “Daedi, is it allrecht if I go next door to Naomi’s house?”

  He wanted to lecture her for bothering Rebecca but
realized he’d just been given the opportunity to ask Rebecca out again. “Schur.”

  When Lizzie left, he and Rebecca remained quiet for a few moments before she finally spoke up. “Why did you run away this morning?”

  “I didn’t run away.” He kept his eyes on the splinter so he didn’t have to meet her gaze. “I figured you needed to talk to your mudder.”

  “I was just getting her the list and money so she could go shopping.” She plucked out the splinter. “There!” She dabbed at the wound with antiseptic again, then wrapped a Band-Aid around it. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a lollipop and offered it to him with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

  “Lizzie was going to kiss it to make it better,” he found himself saying as he stared deep into her eyes.

  “Like this?” she asked, pressing her lips gently to his finger.

  “Ya,” he said, his voice husky. “Rebecca? Before our little matchmaker comes running back in, I want to ask you again: Will you go out to supper with me?”

  “Schur. When?”

  “Tomorrow?” He had to hope Hannah would babysit.

  She smiled and nodded, then turned to pick up her bag.

  “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Gut. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He walked her out to her buggy.

  “Samuel? Don’t lecture Lizzie too much.”

  “Why not? She shouldn’t have bothered you for something so minor.”

  “But I’m glad she did,” she said with a little blush. “Gut-n-owed, Samuel.”

  “Gut-n-owed, Rebecca.”

  He watched her climb into her buggy and drive away. Then catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned his head and saw Lizzie watching him from Naomi’s yard.

  “Come home, Dizzy Lizzie,” he called.

  She walked back so slowly she might have been an old lady troubled with aching joints. “Am I in trouble?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I was worried about you,” she began. “You’re my onliest, precious Daedi Bear.”

  He rolled his eyes and couldn’t help busting out laughing. Growling, he snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder. It was her favorite game. He ran with her into the house and set her down. “Daedi Bear says you go straighten up your room, Little Bear, while I fix supper.”