He rose stiffly and walked to the front of the barn. Smoke rose from the chimney of the house. Anne must be up. He leaned against the doorway and closed his eyes. It didn’t stop him from seeing the mess he’d made of their lives.
He should have gone to her last night. He should have tried to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. She had married him for Leah’s sake and now Leah was gone. His grand idea to build a family had turned into a trap for Anne. She didn’t have the baby she loved and she was stuck with a husband she didn’t love, either. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow first thing in the morning. He hadn’t gone to Anne last night because he was a coward. He was afraid she would turn him away. And he didn’t know if he could survive that.
“I was beginning to worry about you.”
He jerked upright. She was standing a few feet away looking sad and yet still beautiful in the early-morning light. She wore a dark blue dress with a black apron. Somber colors for a somber day. “I’m sorry, Anne.”
“I know. This isn’t what we bargained for, is it?”
“Nay. It isn’t. I’m going to milk. You can go home if you want. We’ll think of what to tell people later.”
“I am home, Joseph.”
“I meant you could go to your own house if you wished.”
She folded her arms tightly across her middle. Her chin quivered as her head came up. “I know full well what you meant. We are wed. A promise is a promise, but promises can be broken. Our vows cannot be unspoken. They were made before God and man. I’m your wife.”
“Leah was the reason for those vows. Now she’s gone. I knew better than to love that child.” He couldn’t bear to be reminded of what he’d lost. The child he loved, the sister he would have given anything to help, his dreams of a family, of a wife who could learn to love him. They were all ashes in his mouth. He turned away and began walking toward the barn.
“I miss her, too. My heart is breaking, the way yours is breaking, because I love her, too,” Anne yelled. “All we have left is each other.”
He spun around. “Would you have married me if you knew Fannie was coming back for Leah?”
She pressed her lips tightly together, unable to answer him. She didn’t have to. He already knew the answer. “Go home or stay. It makes no difference to me.”
“We have to start somewhere, Joseph.”
“I know. I’m just not ready to do that yet.” He walked away without looking back.
* * *
He was in so much pain. Anne knew he was suffering and she was powerless to help. She understood the pain of losing a child. Not once but twice. Time and faith in God’s mercy were the only things that would heal Joseph’s wounds. And hers.
She returned to the house and walked into the living room. Leah’s crib with its bright quilt sat where it had been yesterday. Yesterday it held a happy, grinning baby girl. Today it held only memories.
Anne ran her hands along the smooth wooden rail. Great care had gone into creating it. The owner would want it back. There would be children and grandchildren to use it and that was a good thing. Love should be passed down in families, too.
She opened the drawers of the dresser and took out the outfits that Leah had worn. She held them to her face, but they had been washed. They didn’t hold her baby’s scent. They smelled of fresh air and sunshine, just as they had when she took them off the clothesline. She sat down on the floor and gathered them into a pile on her lap. The tears came then and there was no stopping them.
She didn’t know how long she sat there crying, but she felt Joseph sink down beside her. He gathered her into his arms and held her as she wept. His tears mingled with hers. They were two souls broken by grief. Where did they go from there?
Chapter Twenty-One
When their tears were spent, Joseph rose to his feet, wiped his face with his hands and went to the crib. “Do you want me to put these things away?”
“I can do it for you. I know how hard it is to put away a child’s things. I remember packing away the quilt I made for him was the hardest thing for me.”
“Whose quilt?” He asked without looking at her.
“My son’s.”
“Your son?” Joseph was clearly bewildered. “You had a child?”
“I tried to tell you the day you proposed, but you said it didn’t matter. I was grateful that I didn’t have to share my shameful story with you, but I want you to hear the story now.”
“All right.”
“I was seventeen and in love with the son of the banker in the town near where I lived in Ohio. I was incredibly foolish and naive. I make no excuse for myself. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but I loved him so much. When I told him I was pregnant, everything changed. I thought we would marry. I was badly mistaken. He didn’t want to be a husband or a father. He had plans to go away to college, and he wasn’t going to give that up for a silly Amish girl. He wanted me to place our baby for adoption.”
“He was a man without honor.”
“He was a frightened boy pressured by his parents. I forgave him long ago. My mother was the midwife in our community. She understood, but my father did not. I had shamed him. He wanted nothing to do with me or my child. I was sent to live with my mother’s sister. She knew of a childless Amish couple who would love my baby and raise him as their own. It was a heart-wrenching decision, but I finally agreed. That’s why I know how hard it must have been for Fannie to leave Leah with you. My heart ached for her. I also know how joyful it was for her to see and hold her baby again.”
“I don’t wish to talk about my sister. So you gave your child up for adoption?” The timbre of his voice didn’t change. Did he disapprove of her actions as he did his sister’s?
“I never got the chance. There were complications. My mother did not call the ambulance. My son was born dead because the cord was wrapped around his neck.”
“Like Rhonda’s babe.” His tone softened.
“Very much like that, only Gott called my son home. He showed mercy to Rhonda and Silas by sparing their child. I wish I knew why my little Mathias couldn’t stay with me. Gott has His own plan and we cannot comprehend His ways, but He will have to explain that to me when I stand before Him.”
“I’m sorry for all you endured. Now to lose Leah, too. It’s not fair.”
“We can endure with Gottes help. That is why you can’t lose faith. Gott brought the two of us together because of Leah. His plan has not changed, even though ours have. I will be a good wife to you. I will fulfill my wifely duties. I will honor and obey you all the days of my life, but...I think we both need time to heal.”
She folded her hands together and stared at the floor. “There is a spare bedroom here. I will use that unless you insist otherwise.”
* * *
Amazed by how calmly Anne spoke about the suffering she had endured, Joseph could only stare at her. Her faith was unwavering. He couldn’t say the same. In spite of everything, she had found the strength to go on, to move ahead and to help others by bringing their babies into the world when she had been denied a child of her own. She was a remarkable woman.
He didn’t know what to say to her but he knew what he wanted. He wanted a true wife, not a wife in name only.
He wanted Anne. But on her terms.
He wanted her to come to him with love in her heart, not because it was her duty. However long that took, he would wait. Because deep in his soul, he knew she was a woman worth waiting for. The one chosen by God to be his helpmate for life. The woman he had grown to love.
He cleared his throat. “The spare room will be fine. It’s never used.”
She drew a deep breath. “Danki.”
He moved to stand in front of her. Placing his fingers under her chin, he raised her face until she was looking at him. “We were friends before t
he wedding, Anne. Leah brought us together, but we became friends because of who we are. Not because of her. I want us to be friends now.”
A half smile turned up the corner of her lip. “Does that mean you won’t make me milk your goats?”
“No, you still have to do that, wife.”
Her smile widened. “You make it hard to be your friend.”
“If it was easy, everyone would do it.”
“I reckon we’ll need to be friends if we are to have any kind of marriage at all.”
He was glad she could see it that way. For now. “We’ll make the best of it. Shall I help you put away these things?”
She touched his arm. “Only if you want to do it.”
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to her. Maybe this will help.”
“We’ll pray for her. For both of them.”
“I’ll pray for Leah, but I’m not sure I can pray for her mother.”
“You will. Time heals our wounds even if the scars remain. Leah may yet come back to us, if only for a visit. We can’t know what the future holds. Cutting ties with Fannie will cut our ties with Leah, too.”
“I know you are right, but I can’t condone my sister’s choices. It is not an easy thing to shun a person I love, but I do it out of that love. She must see the consequences of her actions and the harm she has caused.”
He began picking up the clothes scattered on the floor. Together they packed them away in boxes and stacked them in the crib to be returned to their owners. Later that afternoon he drove the wagon up to the door and loaded Leah’s things into it. Anne came out to watch him. He offered his hand. “Would you like to come to town with me?”
She shook her head. “I have enough to do here. I still have things I need to bring over from my place.”
“All right. I’ll be home for supper. What are we having?”
Crossing her arms, she pretended to look annoyed. “What do you care? You like everything, including pickled okra. You’ll like what I put in front of you and you won’t complain.”
“Spoken like a good wife.” He smiled, although he didn’t feel like it. He appreciated her efforts to cheer him up. He had tried to do the same for her. It was harder than it looked. They both missed Leah terribly. There was a hole in the fabric of their relationship. He prayed it could be mended.
Driving into town, he had time to contemplate his spunky wife and wonder if she would ever come to care for him. She was used to her independence. He didn’t want her to give it up. The last thing he wanted was for their marriage to be a burden to her. He wanted it to be a joy.
He delivered the furniture and other items to Naomi at her home. She was shocked to learn that Leah was no longer with them. He asked her to visit Anne soon. “She is going to need someone to talk to about losing Leah.”
“I know she will. I’ll be out tomorrow. Bless you both.”
The coming night loomed large and awkward when he returned home. They ate a simple supper of bread and cheese and parted company in the center of the living room, where Joseph wished her a good night. He hoped it would be a better night for her. It wouldn’t be for him.
Early the next morning, he drove out to see Calvin Miller. It took a considerable amount of haggling, but he headed for home with Pocahontas tied to the back of his wagon. The pony would be his wedding present to Anne. He knew how much she liked the lively, well-trained little mare and how much she needed a fast buggy horse to get her to her deliveries in time.
She was leaving the henhouse with a basket of eggs in her hand when he drove into the yard. Her eyes lit up with delight when she saw Pocahontas. “Has Calvin decided he can spare her for a few more weeks? That’s wunderbar.”
“You don’t have to return her. She’s yours now.” He stepped down from the wagon.
“You mean you purchased her for me?” Anne’s puzzled expression made him chuckle.
He walked around to the rear of the wagon and untied the mare. He led her up to Anne. Taking the egg basket from her, he placed the lead rope in her palm. “She is my wedding gift to you. I don’t want my wife being late for a birthing, and Daisy deserves to retire in peace.”
Tears glistened in Anne’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say. This is very kind of you.”
Her practical side quickly asserted itself. “How much did old man Miller charge you for her?”
“You don’t want to know.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he forestalled her by holding up his hand. “This bargain is done. I promise that from now on, I will consult you on any purchases because it is your money, too, and we need to manage it wisely. But Pocahontas is a gift.”
Anne stroked the horse’s nose. “She is one I will cherish, and doubly so because she came from you.”
Maybe now was the time to make plans for the future so it didn’t feel as if they were simply waiting for Leah to return when she might not. “Next week will be Thanksgiving. I was wondering if you had any plans.”
The light in her eyes faded. “Not this year.”
“Do you have something you normally do? Somewhere you go? I know a lot of Amish folks enjoy getting together for the Englisch holiday.”
“I like to invite the families of the babies I’ve delivered that year over to celebrate. It was something my mother started doing. It’s fun to see how the kinner have grown.”
“Why aren’t you doing it this year?”
“Because.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“Because I know you don’t like company and crowds. Besides, I don’t feel like celebrating now.”
It touched him that she was willing to put aside something she enjoyed for his sake. He could surely do the same. “You should invite them, anyway. I would enjoy having a few families at my place for a day.”
“Are you sure?”
He knew she loved visiting. Her friends were important to her. She liked people. She especially liked their babies. Maybe having some around in her home would get her to thinking about having children of her own. With him. “I can always go hide in the barn if it gets too rowdy. My office has a lock on the door.”
“It does? Why?”
“Beats me. The door came with a lock installed.”
“Have you ever used it?”
“Only to prevent Chester from eating my record books.”
She grinned, but it quickly faded. “Are you sure you want to do this? People won’t be expecting newlyweds to entertain them.”
“We’ve been the unexpected couple from the start. I don’t think we should change now. Most newlyweds travel to visit relatives in the months after they wed. You don’t have much family. I don’t have any...”
He stumbled to a halt. Her eyes filled with sympathy. He drew a deep breath. “Besides, who will milk the goats if I’m not here? I think a Thanksgiving Day feast is exactly what we need to celebrate our marriage.”
He smiled, hoping he had convinced her he would enjoy it. He wouldn’t, but for her sake, he would pretend to have a wonderful time. Anne deserved things that would make her happy. If it was within his power, he could give her those things. He wanted her to think kindly of him. It occurred to him exactly what he needed to do.
He was going to court his wife.
* * *
Anne went through the motions of preparations for Thanksgiving. She welcomed anything to keep her mind off missing Leah, but the baby was never far from her thoughts. She knew the same was true for Joseph, but they were both determined to move forward with their lives. He was as busy as she was, cleaning up the farm, painting his barn. When he wasn’t busy with his own projects, he was helping her. As the days passed, their awkwardness eased and their teasing friendship returned.
She hand-delivered two dozen invitations and found many of her families wer
e hoping she would still hold her annual gathering in spite of getting married. All but one family agreed to come, including Rhonda and Silas. Everyone insisted on making it a potluck meal so that Anne and Joseph wouldn’t be saddled with the expense of another big dinner so soon after their wedding feast.
Anne scrubbed his house from top to bottom, washing windows and floors. She beat rugs and polished every inch of the furniture. The only room she didn’t clean was his bedroom.
Although she was the one who had suggested separate bedrooms, she had secretly hoped he would dismiss her request. It had hurt when he’d agreed. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t love her. Leah had been the only reason he’d proposed. He wanted a mother for his child. Not a wife. She’d known that going in.
Anne was grateful for his friendship, but she wondered how long she could hide the fact that she was deeply in love with him. She longed to tell him the truth, but the fear that he didn’t want her love kept her silent. For now, she could hope that his feelings would grow from friendship into something more. If she confessed her love and found he wanted only her friendship, she might die of shame. How pathetic was it to fall in love with another man who didn’t want her?
Sometimes, when she caught Joseph staring at her, she thought she saw a deeper affection in the depths of his gray eyes, but he never spoke of it. Maybe she only imagined it.
The evening before Thanksgiving, when Joseph was getting ready to start the evening milking, Anne slipped into her coat and walked out with him.
He gave her a quizzical look. “Where are you going?”
“To help you milk.”
“I was there the last time you tried. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“Ha! All I need is a little practice.”
“Are you sure you want to try it again?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, come on.” He held out his hand and she took it. It was only a small step forward in their relationship, but she cherished it nonetheless.
The Amish Midwife (The Amish Bachelors 2; Lancaster Courtships 3) Page 19