The Amish Midwife's Hope

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The Amish Midwife's Hope Page 17

by Barbara Cameron


  “Is something bothering you, Rebecca?”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I should have sold the farm after Amos died. It might have been easier for everyone.”

  “It’s your home. No one wants you to do that.” He lifted the handles of the wheelbarrow of soiled hay and left to dump the contents outside.

  After they finished cleaning the stalls, he sat on a bale of hay and watched her feed and water Daisy. “I kind of had the idea that you might be getting serious about Samuel.”

  “Did you?” She grinned at him. “Is that why you were giving him a little bit of a hard time at supper the other night?”

  “Just being a gut bruder.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s my job to look out for you.”

  “I’m a grown woman. I know how to look out for myself.”

  “So this Samuel. He’s a grown man.”

  “Ya. What’s your point?”

  “Seems to me he can take care of himself. Stand up under a little study from your bruders.”

  “Oh, I’m certain he can do that.” She started for the door. “I’m going in to make breakfast. For a man who can’t cook for himself.”

  “Now why would I want to do that when I can get you and Mamm to do it?” he called after her.

  “And a few maedels you charm,” she said as she walked out and slid the door shut on his chuckle.

  She had some baked oatmeal with apples left over from the day before, so she set it in a low oven to warm and quickly fried some bacon and eggs.

  Eli wolfed down the hearty breakfast and then was off to do his own chores at home.

  “Eat and run,” she said, shaking her head.

  She was clearing the table when there was a knock at the door.

  Rebecca saw Emma poke her head in cautiously. “Hello! Come in.”

  “I’m sorry to come so early but I wanted to get here before anyone else.”

  “Take off your jacket and have some tea. You look cold. Did you walk all the way from your house?”

  “Ya.” She sat without taking off her coat.

  Rebecca set a mug of hot water before her and pushed the little bowl of tea bags closer. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  She grimaced and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m having a little morning sickness. It’s getting harder to hide things from my family.”

  Rebecca sat. “You still haven’t told them?”

  Emma shook her head. “I just can’t. My dat is so strict. You know that. And I don’t want to stay and be pressured to marry the dat of my boppli.” Tears rushed into her eyes. “I came to tell you that I’ve decided to move to Goshen and stay with a freund there. I wrote her and told her about the boppli, and she said I could live there with her and she’d help me.”

  Emma’s breath hitched. “She said we’d tell people that I was a widow. I didn’t want her to lie but she feels it’s the only way I can get on with my life.”

  “I’m glad you have such a freund.” Rebecca reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Are you schur you want to move away from family? It’s a big step.”

  “I am.” She pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and wiped her cheeks. “I left a note for my eldres. I came to tell you before I left.”

  Rebecca’s heart broke for her. Emma was just eighteen. Just a kind herself, really.

  “Let me go to my office and look up the name of a midwife I’ve corresponded with in Goshen. She’ll be happy to help you with your delivery.”

  “Danki.”

  When she returned, she held out a piece of paper and all the cash she had on hand. She pressed both into Emma’s hand.

  Emma’s eyes widened when she saw the money. “I can’t take this.”

  “You can.” Rebecca closed Emma’s fingers around the money. “Write me and let me know how you’re doing.”

  Emma looked at her with gratitude. “I will.”

  Rebecca squeezed her hands. “I mean it. Promise.”

  Emma blinked back tears. “I promise.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Today. The sooner the better.”

  Rebecca hugged her. “Be well. Be happy. And write me the minute you get to Goshen.”

  After Emma left, Rebecca felt heartsore and helpless. She stood there trying to decide what she could do. Then she got an idea. She could write the midwife in Goshen and let her know a freund would be moving there and needing her services. She didn’t mention Emma by name but asked that she be informed if there was anything she could do to help. She folded the letter, slid it into an envelope, addressed and stamped it, and set it aside to mail.

  It was a small step but it made her feel a little better. She washed the breakfast dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, and decided she needed to get out of the house for a little while. She pulled on her jacket and her bonnet, hitched Daisy to the buggy, and set off for a ride.

  * * *

  Samuel heard a buggy pull into the drive and went over to the barn door to see who was visiting.

  The minute he saw it was Rebecca, he grinned and walked out to greet her.

  “Guder mariye,” he said, leaning into the buggy and giving her a kiss.

  “Samuel!” She glanced over her shoulder.

  “We’re way back from the road,” he said. “No one can see.”

  “Guder mariye. I decided to come by and get one of Lizzie’s dresses. So I could start on sewing one for her for Christmas.”

  “Schur. Let’s go inside.”

  They walked into the house. He took off his jacket and hung it on a peg. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” When he came back with the dress, she was still standing by the kitchen door. She hadn’t taken off her coat.

  “Rebecca? Something wrong?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh nee,” he exclaimed, backing away in pretend terror. “When a woman says she’s fine, she’s most definitely not. It’s one of the deadly phrases a man’s taught to be wary of.”

  “Very funny,” she told him, trying to frown at him and failing. “So what are the others?” she asked, giving in to the game.

  “Well, I’m told it’s dangerous if a man asks a woman if she’s allrecht and she says ‘Nothing,’ or ‘Whatever,’ or ‘Never mind.’”

  She smiled but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. They looked sad.

  He clasped her hands in his. “I’m sorry. Bad joke. It was a poor attempt to cheer you up. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s not something that I can talk about. I’m just feeling sad about a patient.”

  There were going to be times like this if he had a relationship with her. He’d need to find a way to help her when she couldn’t tell him what was wrong.

  “I don’t need you to fix it,” she said slowly. “Just being with you helps.”

  “I’m glad. I’m sorry you can’t share what’s troubling your heart. I’m a gut listener.”

  “Trust me—you’ll hear enough gossip if you stick around.”

  “If? There’s no doubt of that.” He handed her the dress. “Kumm, let’s go for a drive into town. I have some orders to deliver; then I’ll treat you to lunch.”

  “I shouldn’t. I have so much to do.”

  He took her hand. “If you can’t tell me what’s wrong, then let me help the only way I can.”

  She sighed. “Allrecht. But I can’t be out long.”

  “No problem. Stay in here where it’s warm while I put the orders in your buggy.”

  He loaded up the buggy and soon they were off.

  “So what did you make?” she asked him.

  “A couple of spice racks. Four keepsake boxes. Two cradles. Mervin tells me handmade cradles are popular.”

  “I wish all bopplin were wanted,” she blurted out.

  He glanced at her, a little surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Well, they are. They’re a gift from God.”

  “Not all gifts are wanted. Sometimes they come at a bad time.” She shook
her head.

  “I guess they do,” he said slowly, feeling he had to be careful with what he said. This was obviously what was troubling her. “If we believe in God’s plan, I guess we have to have faith. We have to believe there’s a reason even if we can’t see it.”

  “I know.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  “Speaking of gifts.”

  She opened her eyes. “What about them?”

  “Did I ever tell you about the game my eldres play each Christmas season?”

  “Nee.”

  So he told her the story about how his mudder tried every year to catch his dat while he was making her Christmas present. It was silly, of course. His mudder didn’t really care what her mann gave her, but she enjoyed the game she’d apparently started after accidentally coming upon him making her a present one year.

  “Doesn’t he just go out to the barn and make her gift there? That’s what my dat always did.”

  “Schur. But she keeps popping in on him unexpectedly. He’s gotten really gut at anticipating her and hiding it when she suddenly comes into the barn. I think he finally found a way to stop her this time.”

  “Oh? How?”

  “He told me he’s going to make a fake gift for her to catch him making this year.”

  She laughed. “That’s brilliant. And funny. Did he tell you what he’s planning to make as a decoy?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think he knows yet.”

  “It’ll be fun to hear.” She sighed. “Danki.”

  “For what?”

  “You told me that story to cheer me up.”

  “I know what you do isn’t just a job,” he said carefully. “But you take things so to heart, Rebecca.”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes it’s not. It’s just like life, I suppose. Sometimes a mudder has a healthy boppli in an easy delivery and then on another day a mudder can have a difficult one. Or a miscarriage. Or…” She trailed off.

  “Sometimes the mudder and the boppli don’t make it.” He glanced at her. “You can say it. I hope I’m getting better about talking about such things. You don’t have to be so careful with me, Rebecca.”

  She nodded. “Today it wasn’t something so terrible. It’s just a situation that makes me sad. Familye’s important and my patient doesn’t have the support of hers.”

  “Familye’s everything.”

  She nodded.

  He parked behind the furniture store, and when she insisted, he let her help him carry some of the lighter items inside.

  The store was decorated with boughs of evergreen, big red bows, and candles scented with bayberry, cinnamon, and vanilla. There was a fresh fir for the Englischers decorated with wooden ornaments made by one of the craftsmen and available for sale. Pots of poinsettias sat on counters, and there was a big platter of Christmas cookies set out for shoppers.

  Mervin came bustling toward them, rubbing his hands and beaming. With his short, stocky body and flowing snow-white beard, he reminded Samuel a little of the Englisch Santa Claus.

  “Samuel! You have the orders I gave you completed already? This is wunderbaar!” He looked at Rebecca. “This young man works fast and everything is so well made.”

  “Danki,” Samuel said, embarrassed at the praise. “I appreciate the work.” He glanced around the busy store. “Where do you want these?”

  “Just set them there on the counter and I’ll have one of my sohns put them in the storeroom.”

  “We’ll be right back with the rest of what I brought you.”

  They headed back to the buggy and retrieved the remaining packages. When they took them inside, Mervin was ready with a check for Samuel and another stack of orders.

  Samuel turned to Rebecca as they left the store. “Ready for lunch?”

  She nodded. “Let’s walk so we can window shop on the way. Mervin won’t mind the buggy being parked in the back lot for a little while.”

  “Allrecht.”

  The shops were all decked out with Christmas lights and animated displays. They stopped to admire one with Santa and his elves working merrily on toys.

  “What are you making for Lizzie?”

  “A cradle for her doll. If I have time, I’m thinking of making a desk for her room where she can do homework when she gets older. I also bought some new books for her since she loves reading.”

  “Would you mind if I ran into the quilt shop for some thread? I forgot to pick it up last time I was in town and I don’t want to run short.”

  “Schur. Go ahead.”

  She grinned at him. “Men can go in there, you know. They’re allowed.”

  Samuel held up his hands. “Nee, danki. I’ll wait out here!” He sat on the bench in front of the shop. When she didn’t move, he looked up at her. “What?”

  She gave him an uncertain smile, and he remembered how her mann and Cassie’s had insisted on sitting outside the shop. She stepped into the shop without answering him.

  When she came out, she carried a big shopping bag.

  “Pretty big bag for a spool of thread.”

  She chuckled. “They were having a sale on quilt supplies. Batting, thread—that sort of thing.”

  “I told you I saved the quilt Ruth was working on when she died,” he said as he got up and they walked along the sidewalk, dodging other shoppers. “I hope you and Hannah can teach Lizzie how to quilt when she gets older.”

  “That sounds nice. Did you save Ruth’s sewing basket for Lizzie as well?”

  “I did. Hannah said she’s a little young yet. She said maybe give it to her when she’s seven or eight.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I started sewing around that time.”

  They ate lunch in a restaurant that was packed with diners and found it a little hard to hear. He was glad when they finished eating and started back to her buggy where they could talk more comfortably.

  Samuel reached over for her hand and held it as they rode home. They stopped at his place first so she could drop him off, and he stood in the drive and watched her buggy roll away.

  When it was out of sight, he turned to walk to the barn. It had been gut being out with Rebecca, but now it was time to get back to the project he’d been working on in the time he had before Lizzie got home from schul.

  The talk of Christmas presents reminded him that he needed to finish the gifts for his family in Indiana and get them in the mail this week. Then he’d finish up Lizzie’s.

  He wouldn’t be telling Lizzie the story of how her grossmudder tried to find out what her Christmas present was each year. She’d find it too much fun to copy her grossmudder’s game.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rebecca smiled as she started sewing Lizzie’s dress the next day.

  It had been a while since she’d sewn a dress for herself. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed taking a length of fabric and fashioning it into a garment. Measuring, cutting, and pinning the pieces together today had been fun. It hadn’t taken long at all to make some progress.

  She sat in the armchair near the fire and had just threaded a needle so she could start hemming the dress, when it hit her. This wasn’t just a Christmas gift for Lizzie. It was the first dress she’d make for the little girl who would become her dochder in less than a year.

  The needle fell from her fingers. Tears rushed into her eyes. She had mourned the loss of her kind when she miscarried and wondered if she would ever marry again and have a boppli…and here God was sending her someone just as precious: a kind who had asked her dat to make her his fraa. To be her mudder.

  She sat there for a long moment absorbing that thought.

  A knock sounded on the back door; then she heard her mudder’s voice.

  “I’m in the living room!” she called out.

  There was no time to hide the dress so she picked up her needle and resumed hemming it.

  “We’re early,” Miriam said as she walked in.

  Rebecca looked up and smiled at her mudd
er and Katie Ann. “Early?”

  “For the weekly sewing circle.”

  “Oh, ya. Time got away from me.”

  “Pretty color,” Katie Ann said. She stepped closer, nudged her schweschder with her elbow, and gave her a knowing look. “It’s a little small for you, isn’t it?”

  Rebecca ignored her.

  “Ya, looks like it,” Katie Ann told her, sweeping it from Rebecca’s hands and holding it against her body. “Looks too small for me. Wonder who it could be for?”

  “Katie Ann, don’t tease.” Miriam settled in an armchair and pulled a shirt from her sewing tote. “Give the dress back to Rebecca.”

  She handed it to Rebecca with a grin that said she wasn’t sorry she’d teased and took a seat.

  Rebecca was glad she hadn’t been working on the shirt she planned to sew for Samuel.

  Other members of the sewing circle began arriving and soon the room was filled with lively chatter about what they were sewing and what they were making for Christmas presents.

  Rebecca folded Lizzie’s dress and got up to make coffee and tea. As her freunds had entered the kitchen, they’d deposited plastic containers of cookies and cakes. She filled the teakettle with water and set it on the stove, then started coffee perking.

  Her mudder came in while she was setting out cups. “Mamm, have you seen Leah? This is the second time she’s missed a meeting and she wasn’t in church last week.”

  “Her mann said she wasn’t feeling well when I asked him Sunday. I offered to stop by but he said nee, it wasn’t anything serious.” She began opening the containers of cookies and took one to sample. “Oh my, these snickerdoodles are so gut. I’ll go tell the others that the coffee and tea are ready.”

  “Danki.” Rebecca walked into her office to unlock the records cabinet and pull Leah’s file. She checked the date she’d been rushed to the hospital for the ectopic pregnancy that ended in miscarriage. Rebecca had visited her when she came home. Leah had seemed listless but denied feeling depressed. Frowning, she closed the file and returned it to the cabinet. Time to stop by and see her again.

  She fixed herself a cup of tea, chose a cookie—Lovina’s chocolate chip—and walked back to the living room. But try as she might, she couldn’t concentrate on sewing. She knew what it was like to lose a boppli…to fight off the depression and anxiety about conceiving again.

 

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