She bent to unbuckle Leah from her stroller and lifted the babe to her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
That was a lie. She did know. She wanted the man with the stormy eyes to want her. Not as a nanny, a friend, a neighbor, but as a man wants a woman he has come to cherish. It was a foolish thought, but it had taken root in her heart and she couldn’t weed it out. Her head said it wasn’t possible but her heart wasn’t ready to give up.
He stepped close and placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “When you do know, I hope God grants you all that you desire.”
How was that to happen when Joseph was blind to anything but her friendship?
* * *
The next few days passed in a comfortable pattern for Joseph. He rose early, got Leah up and dressed her for the day. He carried her to Anne’s house, had a cup of coffee with her, then did his milking and chores. He took care of his horse, fed and watered Anne’s horses, cleaned the stalls and made sure the animals were all in good health. Daisy’s leg improved, but he knew it was time for her to retire from pulling a buggy. Anne would have to buy a new horse soon.
In the late morning, Anne would bring Leah to his place when he was done working outside. Leah stayed with him until the evening milking, when Anne came to pick her up again.
After he was finished, he walked the hundred yards to Anne’s house again. On Wednesday night he found her in a flurry of activity.
“What’s the occasion?” he asked, noting the array of baked goods on the counter.
“The wedding,” she said happily.
He frowned. “What wedding?”
“Ellen Beachy and Neziah Shetler.”
“I forgot all about it. Are you going?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Of course I’m going. Aren’t you?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“You got an invitation, didn’t you?”
“I don’t usually go to these things.”
She stopped stirring something on the stove and turned to face him. “You should start.”
“Why?”
“Because people need to see that you are raising Leah according to our ways.”
“I take her to church.”
“Our community is much more than a church service. It’s about fellowship and friendship. It’s about being able to depend on each other. Almost from the time an Amish child is born, they know where they belong, that they are loved and cherished. By everyone, not just their families. Leah needs to be a part of that. She needs to form bonds and friendships.”
“She will when she goes to school.” He picked her up from her playpen.
“She won’t feel that she belongs if you don’t feel that way, Joseph.”
He wouldn’t look at Anne. “You will take her to the weddings and picnics and haystack suppers. She will learn what she needs from you.”
Anne sighed heavily. “I’m a temporary nanny. I’m not her parent.”
“Neither am I. I didn’t want this responsibility. I didn’t ask for it. Why is it up to me?” He took Leah and left, letting the door slam behind him.
Regretting his outburst the minute he stepped outside, Joseph walked toward home with lagging steps. He hadn’t gone far when he heard her voice behind him.
“Joseph, wait.”
He stopped. “I wasn’t cut out to be a parent. I know it. You don’t need to point it out.”
“I wasn’t trying to do that.”
“All I want is to be left alone and to raise my goats. Why can’t I do that?”
“Because you belong among us. You are part of the whole that is the fabric of this place and our people.”
“Am I? Maybe Fannie had the right idea. Leave and have done with it. Why pretend to be something I’m not?”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “You don’t believe that.”
“I’m not sure what I believe anymore.”
He expected more arguments from her, but she simply said, “All right. I’ll take Leah to the wedding with me if you will permit it. You don’t have to come.”
It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? “Danki. I’ll have her ready.”
As Anne walked away, Joseph knew he had failed some test in her eyes. He went home, but he slept fitfully that night. When morning came, he had Leah ready before Anne drove up in her buggy. He walked out on the porch with the baby asleep in her basket.
He handed Leah up to Anne. “She had a bottle a half hour ago.”
“Okay. I’ll be home before dark.”
“Enjoy yourself.”
“I will. You can come later if you feel like it. For the dinner or for the supper. You’ll be welcome.”
“I doubt I’ll make it.”
She nodded but didn’t speak. Picking up the reins, she turned the spotted mare around and drove away.
As he watched them go, a bitter sense of loss settled in his chest. He had gotten his wish. He was alone and it wasn’t what he wanted, after all. The only person he had to blame was himself.
* * *
Anne put another dozen plates in the dishwater and added a small squirt of soap to the waning suds in the tub set up on a sawhorse at the side of the house. As a friend of the bride, she was doing her part to help Ellen’s family during the massive undertaking. The wedding had gone off beautifully and the dinner was winding down. Anne had no idea how many people had been fed, but she guessed it was over two hundred. She began scrubbing the plates. Once the dinner was done, the preparations for the evening meal would get under way. Amish weddings were an all-day affair.
She glanced beside her. Leah was finally asleep again in her Moses basket. She had been held and passed around by the older girls responsible for watching the younger kinner for most of the morning. As far as Anne could tell, Leah had enjoyed every minute of the attention.
She heard a buggy rolling in and washed faster. They would need the plates to feed the newcomers. Glancing in the direction of the sound, she let a dish slip back into the soapy water. Joseph stepped out of his buggy looking very handsome in his dark Sunday suit and black hat. His suit fit snuggly over his broad shoulders. The dark material made his gray eyes look brighter. He pulled his hat off and smoothed his thick blond hair with one hand. He wasn’t smiling, but Anne’s heart skipped with happiness at the sight of his dear, sweet face. She knew how hard this was for him, but he was making the effort for Leah.
After handing his horse over to the young man parking the buggies, he walked toward the house. He stopped when he saw Anne. He gave her a brief nod and walked inside.
She was so happy for him that she wanted to sing for joy. It was a start. If he wanted, he could find his way back into the tight-knit community and he wouldn’t have to be alone. And best of all, Leah wouldn’t grow up in his self-imposed isolation, as Anne feared she might.
* * *
Anne didn’t mention his attendance at the wedding when Joseph saw her the next day, but he knew she was pleased with him. She was smiling and happy, singing as she worked in the house. He took his time finishing his coffee. He liked the sound of her voice floating down the stairs as she stripped the sheets to wash them. It was hard to leave and get his own work done but he finally tore himself away. She brought him lunch when she brought Leah back after the morning milking. Thick slices of ham and cheese on homemade bread. It was a rare treat for him.
That evening, he wondered if she would bring supper, too, but she showed up on his doorstep with only Leah.
“I decided that it’s time,” she said brightly.
A half smile tugged at his lips. “Time for what?”
“To prove my friendship, and because I agreed to it as a way to repay you for getting my pumpkins sold, I will do the milking this evening.”
He clapped a hand to his chest. “Be
still, my happy heart. Are you serious?”
She handed him the baby. She was wide-awake. He held her to his shoulder. Anne started walking toward the barn. “The house is clean. Supper is in the oven. I find I have some free time this evening. You will have to watch Leah.”
“I think I may need to sit down. I never thought I would see this day.”
“You already know I can do this. You showed me how. I’m reasonably sure I remember everything you told me.” She pulled open the barn door.
“On second thought, I won’t sit down. I’m coming with you.”
“That sounds like you don’t trust me.” She shot him a saucy grin.
“I absolutely trust you but this is some very expensive equipment.”
She flipped on a switch. He heard the generators start up. A few seconds later, the lights came on. She smiled. “So far, so good. This isn’t hard at all.”
Joseph gave a bark of laughter. She raised her chin and walked to the door that opened to the goats’ pen. “Here, girls. Up you go!”
The goats came in and they kept coming. She tried to close the door but they squeezed past her. Those in the lead ran to their stanchions. Those that didn’t have a place began crowding the others out of the way. Several of them fell off the platform and tried crawling underneath to get at the feed in the wheelbarrow on the other side. Anne struggled desperately to get the door closed, but another goat got her head through and Anne couldn’t latch it. “Joseph, help me!”
* * *
“You’re right. It’s not hard at all. You are doing fine.”
Anne could have cheerfully chucked another tomato at him. Maybe even a pumpkin. Why did he have to be enjoying himself at her expense? “What do I do?”
Chuckling, he walked to her side. He put his hand on the goat’s nose and pushed her back. “Wait your turn, Abigail.”
The goat backed out, and Anne was finally able to shut the door. She looked at the mass of goats milling about inside. “Now what?”
He pointed to the ramp leading down from the milking platform. “Open the out door.”
Anne made her way through the herd and opened the door he indicated. The goats reluctantly began to leave. They expected to be milked and fed and they were confused. Joseph hurried them along with slaps on their rear ends. After a few minutes, the area was clear.
“Do you want to try this again?” He was struggling not to laugh as he balanced Leah on his shoulder.
Anne shuddered. “Not particularly, but how else am I going to learn?”
“Goot girl. Open the in door only wide enough for one goat at a time. Count them as they come through. We can only milk twelve. Shut the door on the thirteenth goat. If she gets her head in, a thump on the nose will make her back out.”
Anne gathered her resolve and returned to the door. She slid it open a little way, using her knee to keep it from being fully opened by the rush. When she had twelve, she pushed the door shut. Just like last time, one more goat got her head in. Anne pushed her back. “Wait your turn, Abigail.”
“That is Jenny,” Joseph said.
“I don’t care what her name is—I want her to get back!” The goat complied and Anne slid the door closed. She dusted her hands off, feeling pleased with her effort.
That soon faded. It took her four hours to finish milking. It normally took Joseph just under two. When the last goat went out the door, he showed Anne how to clean the milkers and tubing and then said, “You’re done.”
Her kapp had come off in her struggles at the door and hung by a single bobby pin from the back of her bun. Her feet were bruised from the multitude of hooves walking over them and her arms ached from reaching above her head to clean udders and attach milkers. The platform that was waist-high on Joseph was shoulder level for her. She leaned against the metal barn wall. “I’ll never do this again.”
Joseph came up and put his arm around her, gave her a hug and kissed her forehead. “You did great for your first time.”
She was so flabbergasted by his display of affection that she simply stood there with her mouth open while he walked out.
If goat wrestling got her this much attention, she would definitely do it again.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning started out as well as the previous day. Anne seemed happy, if a bit stiff after her milking ordeal. Leah was happy, too, after sleeping through the entire night for the first time. Smiles, laughs, gurgles and coos greeted Joseph when he picked her up in the morning. She quickly grabbed a handful of his hair and tried to put it in her mouth. Joseph liked the direction his life was taking. Thanks to Anne, it was all working out.
In the early afternoon, he picked up the mail before loading the last of his yearlings to take to market. He found the usual assortment of junk mail and a single letter that made his heart freeze for an instant before it began hammering wildly.
It was from Fannie, but there was no return address. He tore it open.
Dear Joe,
I’m writing because I know you have been waiting for this letter. I know you, Joe. You think I will change my mind and return to your little goat farm, but I won’t. I wised up and left Johnny. He wasn’t much of a boyfriend and he certainly wasn’t father material. I have to get my life straightened out. I’m in some trouble, but it’s nothing you can fix. I have to do this myself. I can’t have Leah with me, as much as I want to hold her again. I hope you’ll tell her that her mother loves her. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but it’s true. The best life I can give her is a life with you. I didn’t know what a good thing I had when I lived in Honeysuckle until it was too late.
None of this is your fault. Don’t blame yourself. I made my own choices and now I have to live with them. Maybe that means I’ve finally grown up. This is my last letter, brother. Don’t look for another one from me. I will only disappoint you again.
Your baby sister always,
Fannie
Joseph crushed the single page into a tiny ball as grief gripped his heart. She was wrong. It was his fault. He had failed her somehow. He hadn’t given her what she’d needed.
Smoothing out the letter, he carried it to the house, where he went to his family Bible. It sat in a place of honor on an ornately carved stand that had been made by his great-great-grandfather. He opened the book and leafed through it until he found the story of Moses. Tucking the letter between the pages, he closed the book. Someday he would let Leah read her mother’s letter. It might help her understand why her mother had left her. He prayed it would comfort her. It didn’t comfort him.
He walked outside and saw he had a visitor. Bishop Andy stepped down from his buggy.
“Wee gayt’s, Joseph. How are you this cold morning?”
“I’m fine, Bishop. What brings you out this way?” It was unusual for the spiritual leader of the congregation to come calling. Unease settled between Joseph’s shoulder blades.
“It has been a while since I’ve spoken to you. You didn’t stay long after the last service. I thought I would see how you are doing.”
“I’m fine.”
“How is your niece? I understand she was sick.”
“Leah is fine now that she’s drinking goat’s milk. She is with Anne until I finish my chores.”
“I won’t keep you from your work. Is it true that your sister does not plan to return for the child?”
He couldn’t pretend anymore that Fannie would be back. “That is what she said in the last letter I had from her.”
“You are a good man, Joseph. Not friendly with your neighbors but always willing to help when there is a need.”
“I hope that I do my part.”
“And I must do my part for the spiritual health of the congregation God has entrusted to me. Raising a child is a sacred duty. I find myself in an unhappy po
sition, Joseph.”
“How so?” He didn’t like where this was heading.
“Several members of our community have expressed concern about your niece. They feel it is not right for a bachelor to rear an infant alone. I am in agreement. A baby needs a mother’s touch, a mother’s love.”
“I would gladly return her to her mother if I knew where she was,” he said dryly.
“I’m sure that is true. It is a sad thing for a man to lose his sister to the outside world. My worry is about your niece.”
“Anne is taking good care of Leah. She is a kind woman, and she loves the child.”
“But is it enough? Is the care of a nanny a substitute for a mother? Nay, it is not. I am here to urge you to wed, Joseph. Take a wife and give this baby a mother.”
“I don’t want a wife. I don’t need a wife. I can manage on my own. I raised Fannie by myself.”
“She was not an infant at the time your parents died. She had known a mother’s love and care. It might have been better had you taken a wife, for it is clear Fannie has wandered far from our teachings. Some will lay that at your door and say it is proof that this babe is better off in a home with both a mother and a father.”
Wasn’t that what he believed, too? That his failure had led to his sister falling away from their faith.
“If you cannot in good conscience marry one of the suitable women in our community, I urge you to consider allowing one of our childless couples to raise Leah.”
“And if I refuse?”
“This is a very serious matter. I have prayed on it, and I believe I’m only asking what is best for the child. You must pray on it, as well. We will talk again in a few days. It is my fervent hope that you will have reached a decision by then. I don’t want to take the child away from you, but I will do what I must.”
When the bishop had left, Joseph sank onto his porch steps and put his head in his hands. “What do You want from me, Lord? What do You want? Do You want someone else to raise her? Why leave her with me in the first place and let me grow to love her?”
The Amish Midwife (The Amish Bachelors 2; Lancaster Courtships 3) Page 16