Her jaw set, she pulled his coat and hat from the pegs near the door and tossed them at him. “Come with me,” she repeated.
He didn’t know where this was going, but he put them on and followed her out to her buggy. They climbed in and she drove to her house and pulled up in the drive. What was she doing? he wondered. Taking him into her office and showing him statistics from some medical journal?
Instead, she turned to him. “See that field over there?” she asked, pointing to her right.
“Ya.”
“That’s where Amos died. It was late summer and he was just finishing up with harvesting. And something happened. We still don’t know what. Maybe it was a snake that startled the horses. Maybe one of them lost its footing in a hole in the ground. Amos was found lying on the ground, bleeding from the head and unconscious. He never woke up.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
She waved a hand at him, cutting him off. “Don’t you get it? Amos was a farmer. You’re a farmer. Maybe I should be afraid to marry you because you could get hurt and die from farming!”
He stared at her and fumbled for words.
“I have to see where he died every day that I live here,” she said quietly. “It was hard for a long time. But I finally moved past the fear that I’d lose another mann, Samuel. I moved past that when you came along. I realized that if I believed God has a plan for us, then He brought you here for me.”
Hannah had said something similar, he remembered. That maybe God had brought him here for a reason.
“Life—love—is full of risk. But I’m not holding off marrying again out of fear, Samuel. I want a mann. I want kinner. I’m going to take a chance. And if it’s not with you, it’ll be with someone else.”
She stopped. Or just wore down. He wasn’t schur which. She stomped back to the buggy, climbed in, and sat there waiting for him, her arms folded across her chest. He followed behind her slowly and got in. Before he could speak, her cellphone rang and she answered it.
He tried not to listen but it was obvious from her responses that it was one of her patients.
“I’ll be right there.”
She disconnected the call and turned to him. “I have to go. I’ll drop you off on the way.”
“Nee, danki,” he said. “I’ll walk. I need to. I’ll talk to you…I’ll talk to you later.”
She nodded, and as soon as he was clear of the buggy, she set it in motion.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Men!”
Rebecca muttered all the way to her patient’s home. If the survival of the species depended on them having bopplin…well, there would be no people on earth—that was for schur and for certain!
So he was afraid of being married and losing her if she got pregnant. Well, he’d just lost her. Did that make any sense at all?
She snorted. Since when did men make sense anyway? She sighed and then chided herself for thinking in such a way.
But tears threatened. She blinked them away furiously. She had a job to do. So she had to put aside feeling hurt and not think about how her heart felt like it would break. She’d cry later.
It was her great, good fortune that she didn’t have to wait long. After a few hours’ labor she helped deliver another boppli and pulled on her coat and bonnet and walked out to her buggy.
The tears began the moment she got back into her buggy and started home. She cried the whole way to her barn. As she led Daisy into her stall, the horse made snuffling noises and she found herself standing there and hugging her neck.
“Why did I have to fall in love with that man?” she asked her.
Finally she stood back and stroked Daisy’s velvety nose. “Danki for the sympathy, girl. I appreciate it.” She closed the stall door, then left the barn.
She trudged through the snow and climbed the steps to the house, feeling a hundred years old. Dispiritedly she shed her coat and bonnet and glanced at the stairs to the bedrooms. It was so tempting to just go on up and climb into bed and pull the quilt up over her head. But she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she never knew when she could be called out again. She forced herself to put the kettle on for a cup of tea and poked in the refrigerator for the makings for a sandwich.
It reminded her of how she had sat in Hannah’s kitchen the night she’d gone into labor and Samuel had made her a sandwich.
She sat down and ate the sandwich even though it had no taste. After poking through her selection of tea bags, she chose chamomile to help her sleep and carried the mug upstairs with her. She undressed and pulled on a warm flannel nightgown and climbed into bed. As she sat there with the quilt tucked around her, she sipped the tea and went over what had happened with Samuel. For the life of her she couldn’t think of anything she could have done, could have said differently. His mind was made up.
It was over.
She set the mug down on the nightstand and sank down against her pillow. Such brave words telling him that she wanted a mann and kinner and she’d find them without him. She hadn’t done so since Amos. None of the men here had appealed to her once the heavy weight of grief had lifted. The same men she’d known since childhood were still here. And Samuel was the first new man who had moved into the community in years.
She pulled the quilt up over her head. She’d just hide here until she became en alt maedel. Then she chuckled at herself. Nothing like being a drama queen.
With a sigh, she pulled the quilt off her face and stared at the ceiling. Darn the man. Did he think she had no fears of losing him?
But she’d begun to hope and dream since she’d met him. She’d fallen in love with his funny little dochder and then with him. She’d begun to spend many of her days with them. Had begun to look forward to a future with them.
She yawned. The day was catching up with her. She decided to stop fretting about it all and just let sleep claim her.
Morning came too soon. She opened her eyes and it hit her all at once that Samuel had ended their relationship the day before. Well, that was enough to make her want to stay in bed. With a sigh, she snuggled under the quilt and fought back tears. Nee, she would not start the day crying. She’d done too much of that after she lost Amos.
So she got up and dressed and went downstairs. As she waited for coffee to perk, she glanced over her schedule. After a busy last few days, it was nice to have just a couple of home visits scheduled. The rest of her day was free.
And then it hit her: Christmas was just six days away. She had a lot to do and a lot to look forward to. She drank her first cup of coffee standing at the stove and then bundled up to take care of Daisy.
After breakfast she made a visit to check on Leah to see how she was doing and was pleased she was feeling better about her loss. She stopped in to see several of her new mudders and then returned home. With a nice cup of tea and a fire in the fireplace to warm her, she sat down to finish her presents. The gifts for Lizzie and Samuel were done and wrapped and tucked safely away in a closet so they wouldn’t stop in and accidently see them. But that wouldn’t be a problem now. They wouldn’t be coming over.
She’d invited them both to spend Christmas Eve with her and her familye. Now she wondered if they’d come.
Time would tell.
Determined to stop thinking about Samuel, she forced herself to concentrate on finishing her gifts.
Her phone rang.
“They’re releasing me! I just wanted you to know. Samuel’s coming to get us.”
“That’s wunderbaar. I’ll stop by and see you later at home if you like.”
“Please do. Oh, he’s here now. I have to go.”
“Take care and get some rest. I’ll see you later.”
She felt some relief that Hannah was being released. It was always gut to know that there were no complications or a need for a longer hospital stay. Now it was important that Hannah not overdo it while she healed. She’d let the women of the community know. Help would be provided.
Starting now. She set aside her Chri
stmas project and went into the kitchen. She gathered the ingredients for a chicken-noodle casserole she often prepared to take to a family in need. While the noodles simmered, she sipped another cup of tea and got out her address book to start making phone calls.
She started with her mudder.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.
“Nothing. I’m just calling to tell you about Hannah.”
“Something’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Mamm—”
“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll call you right back.”
Rebecca stared at her phone. That was odd.
A few minutes later, the kitchen door opened and her mudder streamed in. She lived just a mile down the road but that was fast even for her, Rebecca thought with a sigh.
Miriam took one look at Rebecca and nodded. “I knew it. You’ve been crying.”
“I’m allrecht.”
“You’re not.” She took off her coat and bonnet and sat at the kitchen table. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed. Her mudder was relentless. “Samuel and Lizzie won’t be joining us Christmas Eve.”
* * *
Samuel walked into the hospital to get Hannah and the boppli and felt such relief as he rode upstairs in the elevator.
It was the last time he had to come here and he couldn’t have been happier. Every time he’d visited it had been a painful reminder of his last day with Ruth at the hospital back in Indiana.
Hannah was waiting for him, dressed and sitting in a wheelchair in her room. She beamed at him as she lifted Sarah Ann from her bassinet. “Your Onkel Samuel is here to take us home, Sarah Ann.”
After Keith dropped them off, Samuel got the mudder and boppli settled into the downstairs bedroom and grinned when she exclaimed over him thinking to bring the portable crib down from the upstairs nursery. Sarah Ann never woke as she was transferred to it from her mudder’s arms.
“So, what do you need before I get some more wood for the fire? A cup of tea? Coffee? A sandwich?”
“Funny guy. I schur would love a cup of coffee.”
“Coming right up.”
He brought her the drink and then gathered the wood and carried it in. “I’m going to go do some work out in the barn. Why don’t you take a nap before the kinner come home?”
She nodded. “Gut idea. You don’t get much rest in a hospital.” She lay down on the bed and pulled a quilt up over her. “Danki for everything, Samuel. You’re a gut bruder.”
“The best,” he agreed with a grin.
“I let Rebecca know I was coming home,” she said and yawned.
His grin slipped. “Ya?”
She looked at him uncertainly. “Something wrong?”
“Nee,” he said quickly. “I’ll be out in the barn.”
“Samuel!”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing. Allrecht?”
She sat up and frowned at him. “I know you, and I know when you’re avoiding things. What did you do?”
“Why do you think I’ve done something?” But he looked away.
“Samuel.”
“Look, it just wasn’t working out,” he said. “Now, please, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I have eyes,” she said quietly. “It was working out beautifully. What happened?”
Life, he wanted to say. He sighed and shook his head. “I guess I just wasn’t ready to get married again.”
“You were ready. You are ready.”
“Look, if you must know, I can’t think about losing someone again,” he blurted out.
“So this is all my fault.” She sank back against the pillows.
“How do you figure that?”
“You got scared when I had problems with the delivery, didn’t you?”
“It’s my own fault if I did.”
She patted the chair beside the bed. “Sit.”
“I have things to do before the kinner get home from schul.”
“You have plenty of time.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Now what are you going to do to fix things?”
He was saved from answering when he heard a knock at the back door. It was Barbie from next door. When he invited her in, she shook her head.
“Hi! I saw you brought Hannah and the boppli home,” she said. “I’m picking my kinner up from schul since it’s so cold. I thought I’d see if I could pick Jacob and Lizzie up, too. I thought you might not want to leave Hannah.”
“That would be wunderbaar. Danki.”
She nodded. “Maybe Hannah will be up for a quick visit later. See you.” And she was nipping off to her house with her usual boundless energy.
Samuel had barely shut the door when there was another knock. When he opened it, his heart sank. Rebecca.
They stared at each other. Samuel didn’t know how long he might have stood there but then he saw her shiver. “Come in.”
She stepped inside. He drank in the sight of her. One day, he thought, and he felt starved for a glimpse of her. How was he going to be able to keep away from her?
“Hannah asked me to stop by.”
He shut the door and turned to her. “Ya. She told me. Rebecca—”
“I brought a casserole,” she said, walking over to set it on the stove and avoiding looking at him. “Chicken noodle. All you have to do is heat it up when you’re ready to eat. Or if you have something else planned, you can stick it in the refrigerator or freezer for later.”
“That’s very nice. Danki.” He shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to know he’d run into her and a whole other thing to do it. “I tried to talk Hannah into taking a nap while Sarah Ann is sleeping. I’ll go see if they’re awake.”
He hurried out of the room, grateful for something to do in the face of an awkward moment, and hoped Hannah was awake and wanted a visit. When he tapped lightly on the bedroom door, she called for him to come in.
She was sitting on the bed changing Sarah Ann’s diaper.
“Rebecca’s here to see you.”
“Oh gut! Send her in.”
“She’s up and said to go on in,” he told Rebecca when he returned to the kitchen. “I’m going to get some work done in the barn while you’re here. Let me know if either of you need anything.”
He took the coward’s way out and headed for the barn. What Hannah said earlier played in his mind. She just didn’t understand. Schur, she’d lost a schwei—one she’d often said felt like a schweschder—but he’d lost a fraa. She didn’t know what it was like to lose someone like that.
But the more he worked on the small wooden dresser, the more he wondered if he’d allowed emotion and anxiety to cloud his judgment.
He needed to talk to Rebecca.
But just as he thought that, he heard a sound outside. When he rushed over and opened the barn door, he saw Rebecca’s buggy rolling down the driveway.
Well, maybe that was for the best. Next time she came for a visit, he’d make himself scarce and maybe he could avoid seeing her altogether. He’d still have to see her at church, but they’d never have to sit next to each other, since men and women didn’t sit together.
They could find a way to avoid each other, couldn’t they?
He shook his head. He’d been so grateful that his onkel had left him the farm. When he lived back in Indiana, it seemed he saw Ruth everywhere after she died. Everything had reminded him of her.
Now he had to avoid seeing a woman in the flesh.
What a predicament.
He went inside to see if Hannah needed anything, but she was just tucking Sarah Ann into her bassinet. She yawned. “I think I’ll try to take a nap while she’s asleep. The kinner will be home in another hour or so.”
“Barbie is picking them up so I don’t have to leave you.”
“That’s nice.”
“Get some rest,” he said and quietly closed the door.
He’d no sooner stepped into the hall when he heard a vehicle pull up in front of the house. Another visi
tor? Determined to make schur Hannah got her rest, he walked to the front window and looked out.
And knew this was one visitor he wouldn’t be keeping from seeing her and the boppli. He threw open the door. “Levi! You’re back! Wilkumm home!”
“Danki.”
“Why didn’t you let us know?”
“I wanted to surprise Hannah.” He set his suitcase down and pulled off his coat. “When I spoke to her last night, she said she was coming home today. Is she here?”
“She schur is. She was just going to take a nap. Bet she won’t mind missing it.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad your mudder is doing better.”
“Me, too. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”
“We’re familye,” Samuel said simply. “It’s what we do. And wait until you see your dochder! She’s beautiful.”
He walked away, and as he did, he heard Levi open the bedroom door and Hannah cry out with joy.
Jacob would be thrilled when he came home. Hannah’s familye was going to have a wunderbaar Christmas, he thought, and he sent up a prayer of thanks as he walked into the kitchen. He couldn’t have been happier for them.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rebecca threw herself into her work and preparations for Christmas.
Work had saved her after Amos had died, and she’d use it again to get through her relationship with Samuel ending.
There were times when more bopplin were born, and a year or so after marriages had been performed was one of them. Nine months after a long, cold winter was another. So she had a lot to do with home visits to make sure new mudders and bopplin were doing well. She wasn’t just assuring herself that they were doing well physically. Mudders—new as well as those who had many kinner—too often overdid it.
And she kept an eagle eye out for those who might suffer from postpartum depression or be grieving over a miscarriage or infertility.
When she wasn’t working, she joined her church members in visiting those who were ill or needed a meal or some help with housework. One evening she enjoyed going out caroling, something she hadn’t done in years.
And she baked. Soon there were dozens of cookies, loaves of bread, rolls, and pastries. And candy. She made peanut brittle, fudge, and peppermint bark.
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