Rachel's Garden

by Marta Perry

  “Ja, I’ve heard that.” He gave a heavy sigh. “It’s a bad thing, having conflict in the family.”

  Anger flared up like a candle in the dark. “And isn’t it a bad thing for Isaac to try to force his brother’s widow to sell out to him?”

  “Isaac is as headstrong as he ever was. Maybe worse, since his father died.”

  “Then you understand.” Hope blossomed for a moment.

  “I know that he’s difficult to deal with.” Her father shook his head. “But to think of selling to an Englischer rather than your husband’s kin ...”

  “But that’s the point. I wouldn’t have to sell if I accepted Carver’s offer.” Everyone seemed to have a different version of what the man had offered. “He wants to buy the herd, yes, but he would only lease the barn and the land.”

  “Is it so important to you, to hold on to the farm in the hopes that the children will want to farm it? What if they don’t?”

  He hadn’t let bitterness into his voice on the words, or sorrow, but she knew he must feel both. She never talked to him about Johnny. Maybe she should.

  “Daadi, you know what I’m feeling. You’ve kept the farm, hoping that Johnny would come back, even though ...” She stopped, not wanting to finish that.

  “Even though you know he never will.” Her father finished it for her.

  “Ja,” she said softly. “That is what I believe.”

  Daadi closed his eyes briefly, as if he could shut out the pain. “I don’t want to see you work yourself to death to hold on to the farm for the children,” he said again. “I believe you’d be better off to sell, to Isaac or the Englischer, I don’t care which, and move back home with us.”

  Nothing changed. No matter how hard she tried to explain, everyone around her stayed firm in his own belief that he knew what was best for her. The weight of all that disapproval was almost too much to bear.

  Her father’s fingers tightened on hers. “But I have already lost one child. I will not drive another away.”

  It took a moment for his words to penetrate. She looked at him, her heart lifting.

  “Whatever you decide, Rachel, your mamm and I will support you. If you must go before the elders, we will stand with you.”

  “Denke, Daadi.” Her throat choked with tears.

  He put his arm around her and drew her close. She buried her face in his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his shirt against her cheek, inhaling the familiar scent that had always meant safety and comfort.

  Daadi might not believe in her dreams, but he would stand with her anyway. Maybe that would be enough.

  Gideon tightened a last bolt and glanced at the sky. He’d stayed longer than he’d intended at Rachel’s today. Before the accident, he’d have been able to finish this part of the job in a few hours. Looked as if he wasn’t up to his normal speed yet.

  It will come. Please, God, let my strength return so that I can do my work.

  He started to climb down, his bad leg protesting from the effort. Halfway down, he paused to give it a rest.

  Movement from the ground caught his eye. Joseph, it was, over at the goat’s pen as usual. That boy was certainly devoted to his pet.

  Even as Gideon thought that, Joseph took a quick step backward, away from the pen, arms pressing rigid against his sides. He whirled, racing toward the house.

  “Mammi! Mammi, komm! Schnell!”

  Something was wrong, or he’d not be crying for his mother that way. Gideon made quick work of the rest of the trip and unhooked the harness. By the time Rachel and Joseph had rushed to the pen, he’d reached it, too.

  Joseph grabbed his hand. “Something’s wrong with Dolly. Look at her.”

  “Let us see,” Rachel said, exchanging a glance with him. She moved Joseph away from the pen door and opened it. She paused, hand on the door. “Gideon?” There was a question in her voice. “You know more about goats than either of us does.”

  He pried the boy’s fingers from his hand and knelt beside her at the pen door. “I couldn’t live on Aaron’s farm without picking up a bit. Let’s have a look.”

  The little Nubian lay on her side near the pen opening, panting. He expected her to rise when he reached for her, but she just looked at him with what almost seemed like confidence in her eyes.

  “There, now.” He stroked his hand down her side. “What’s going on here?”

  The answer came as soon as the words were out of his mouth. A shudder rippled through her under the pressure of his palm—an unmistakable contraction.

  He kept his hand there until the contraction eased off. He patted the little goat. “Well, Joseph, I think Dolly is about to become a mammi. That’s what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?”

  The boy nodded, eyes wide. “The twins are coming. Ain’t so, Gideon?”

  “They are for sure.”

  Rachel rested her hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “You have the box stall all ready for her. Let’s move her into the barn now.”

  Joseph started to reach for the goat. He stopped, seeming not to know how to move her, and gave Gideon a pleading look.

  “Won’t she walk if you lead her?” Rachel said, holding the pen door wide.

  Joseph took hold of the thin collar the goat wore, that looked, for all the world, like a pet dog’s. “Komm, Dolly. Komm.”

  The goat struggled, legs waving, seeming unable to get to her feet.

  “Suppose I carry her,” Gideon said quickly. He didn’t like the look of that, but no sense in alarming the boy if it wasn’t necessary.

  Joseph nodded, his breath coming out in a whoosh of relief. He stepped back so that Gideon could reach into the pen.

  He slid his hands under the goat, moving gently so as not to frighten her, and lifted her out. His leg grumbled a bit as he rose, cradling the goat against his body.

  “Lead the way, Joseph.”

  The boy rushed to the barn door, knocking his straw hat off in his hurry to slide it open. He scooped up the hat and raced to open the door to one of the box stalls.

  The stall had been cleaned, he’d guess, to the last inch, and a fresh bed of straw covered the wooden planks. Gideon knelt, depositing the goat on the straw that Joseph fluffed up. The boy promptly sat down next to her.

  “Joseph, she can probably do this part without you. Komm. Supper is ready.”

  Joseph’s face crumpled at his mamm’s words. “I can’t leave her. She needs me.” He reached toward Gideon, tugging on his pant leg. “You’ll stay, won’t you, Gideon?”

  “I’m sure Gideon has much to do—” Rachel began, but he interrupted her.

  “It’s fine. I’m glad to stay.” He sat down on the floor next to Joseph and leaned back against the side of the stall.

  Rachel’s face lit with gratitude. A man would do a lot for a smile like that, not that he wouldn’t have stayed anyway, since Joseph seemed to need him.

  “Well, if you won’t come in for supper, I’ll bring something out for the two of you.” Her gaze met his. “Denke, Gideon,” she said.

  When she’d left, the barn seemed steeped in stillness. The big draft horses, who were the only other occupants, watched them curiously for a few minutes and then turned back to their feed buckets.

  Joseph stroked Dolly’s head. “What do we do now, Gideon?”

  “Now we wait.” He settled himself as comfortably as he could. “First births can take a while, and there’s nothing to do for Dolly but let nature take its course.”

  An hour later, he’d begun to wonder if nature was going to be enough. He lit a lantern to chase away the gathering shadows so that he could get a better look at Dolly.

  The little goat seemed to be struggling, and this wasn’t progressing nearly as fast as the other births he’d seen working with Aaron’s herd.

  Rachel came in again while he was trying to urge Dolly to her feet. She studied his face, seeming to look past the facade he kept up for the boy.

  She took Joseph by the shoulders. “I want you to go into the hous
e now.”

  “But Mammi, Dolly needs me.” His hand lingered on the little goat’s head.

  She hesitated a moment, and then knelt beside him. “You may come back out again. But I want you to say good night to Mary. Then go to the shed and get some of the empty feed bags that are on the shelf. We might need them when the kids come.”

  Joseph’s small face lit with the prospect of something helpful to do. “I’ll do it, Mammi. Schnell.” He scrambled to his feet and raced for the door.

  Rachel swung toward him as soon as Joseph was gone. “Something is wrong.”

  “I’m not sure.” He gave up the effort and let the little doe rest on her side again. “I thought standing might help things along, but she doesn’t seem to have the strength for it.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  He spread his hands, hating feeling helpless. “Once she starts pushing, we may be able to help. I’ve done that often enough with Aaron’s herd. Until then—I don’t think there’s anything.”

  “If we were to lose her, Joseph would take it so hard.” Her lips twisted, as if she fought not to cry. “I can’t bear for him to lose something else he loves.”

  “It’s not come to that.” Gideon reached out his hand and she took it, fingers twining tightly. “Goats are like people, I guess. Sometimes the first babe is a long time in coming.” His thoughts flickered to his wife, his babe, and he yanked them away.

  “Yes, of course.” She took a breath, straightening. “I shouldn’t be so foolish. But—do you think I’m right in letting him stay out here?”

  She’d never asked his advice on anything to do with her children before. He’d best have the right answer.

  “What would he do if you sent him inside?”

  “Wait. Worry. Fret.” She gave a slight shrug. “You’re right. That would be worse than letting him feel he’s helping.”

  “That’s how you’d feel, ain’t so?”

  She nodded, bending to stroke the little doe’s side. “Be strong, Dolly,” she murmured.

  “Here I am.” Joseph burst in, burdened with a flashlight and an armload of feed bags. “Did anything happen?”

  “Not yet.” Rachel brushed his hair from his eyes. “It’ll be a little while yet. You do as Gideon says. I’ll be back out after I get Mary to bed.”

  Joseph nodded solemnly and came to sit next to Gideon. Once Rachel had gone, the barn seemed too quiet, too lonely. Was he right in encouraging the boy to stay? Joseph had certainly seen animals give birth before. He wouldn’t be frightened by what was normal.

  “Gideon?” Joseph rested his head against Gideon’s sleeve. “Dolly isn’t going to die, is she?”

  “I hope not.”

  “But it shouldn’t take this long, should it?”

  “It does seem like a long time.” He wouldn’t lie to the boy. “But things may start to happen very fast. Kidding goes that way sometimes.”

  Joseph’s face moved against his sleeve. “I love her,” he whispered. “I loved Daadi lots, lots more, but I love her, too. I don’t want her to die like Daadi did.”

  “I know.” Gideon put his arm around the boy. He was skinny, like Ezra had been at that age, with sharp little bones that seemed fragile under Gideon’s touch. A wave of protectiveness swept through him, so strong it scared him.

  What was he doing, feeling this powerful a caring for another man’s son? He’d set out to help Ezra’s wife and children, thinking only of the debt he owed to Ezra.

  He’d never imagined they’d become so dear to him. Too dear. How would he live with himself if he failed them, too?

  Rachel paused before she reached the barn on her return, lifting her face toward the sky. Pinpoints of light clustered thick as clover in the meadow. The nearly full moon seemed fat with promise. Was it true, then, the old idea that the full moon brought on birth?

  Please, Father. I don’t know what Your will is for this little creature, but I ask Your guidance for helping Joseph to deal with whatever happens tonight. Thank You, that you’ve provided Gideon to aid us.

  A few more steps brought her to the door. Again she hesitated, this time caught by what she could see inside. The glow of the lantern echoed the glow of the moon, illuminating the stall. Gideon sat, his back against the rough boards, and Joseph leaned against him, his head snuggled into Gideon’s broad chest. The man’s arm curved protectively around his shoulders.

  Her throat constricted. Gideon was doing what Ezra would have in this situation. Did he even realize how wonderful gut he was with the children?

  Gideon’s attention seemed to sharpen on something out of her line of vision—no doubt Dolly. He moved, Joseph moving with him. As if it had been a signal, she scurried inside.

  “Was ist letz? What’s the matter?”

  “Time to help her push.” Gideon squatted next to the goat. “Will you?”

  She nodded, kneeling in the straw next to him. “Show me what to do.”

  “I want to do something.” Joseph’s voice wobbled a little. “Let me.”

  “You will hold her head. Your mammi will put her hands here.” He took her hands in his and positioned them against the goat’s warm, smooth side. “When you feel her push, only then, you press along with her. I’ll try to ease the kid out.”

  She nodded, breathing a silent, wordless prayer.

  Gideon gave Joseph an encouraging smile. “We’ll do our best for her. The rest is in the Lord’s hands.”

  Even as he spoke, the goat’s muscles contracted under her hands. Rachel sucked in a breath as if she were in labor as well and began to push.

  “That’s it, gut. The kid is in the right position. It won’t be long now.” Gideon had rolled up his sleeves, and he leaned over the animal. “Talk to her, Joseph. Tell her to push.”

  “Push, Dolly, push.” Some of the fear eased from Joseph’s face as he concentrated on the goat. “You can do it. I know you can.”

  “Come on, Dolly. Come on.” Rachel pressed with her palms, feeling the progress of the contraction. “It’s working.”

  “Ja.” Gideon’s glance at Dolly held concern. “Ease off, now. Wait for the next one.”

  Did he fear the little goat didn’t have the strength in her to finish the job?

  Rachel longed to ask, but didn’t want Joseph to hear the answer. Before she could think of how to phrase it, the next contraction hit, and she was too busy to say anything.

  “It’s coming,” Gideon exclaimed, and in a moment the tiny kid, front hooves first, came sliding out onto the feed bag, squirming and messy.

  “She did it.” Joseph hugged Dolly’s head. “You did it, Dolly.”

  Gideon lifted the baby away a foot or so. “Ja, but I think she has one more to push out. You come and dry this one off, Joseph, while your mammi and I help her.”

  The worry in his voice was plain, but fortunately Joseph was too enraptured by the brand-new kid to hear it. He dried the baby off, crooning to it.

  Dolly stiffened under her hands, and in what seemed little more than a moment, the second kid arrived. The doe lay back, eyes closing, side heaving with strain.

  “Do you think—” Rachel began, studying Gideon’s expression.

  Grasping her arm, he turned her toward Joseph and the kids. “You help him with the babies. I’ll tend to Dolly.”

  Gideon looked so grave that she feared Joseph could hardly fail to pick up on it, but he didn’t seem to. So Rachel helped him dry the kids, marveling with him at them. It wasn’t hard to keep his attention fixed on the babies instead of the mother.

  “We should name them.” Joseph stifled a yawn. “What do you think, Mammi?”

  “I think you’ve been up far too long. Say good night to them, now, and get into bed.” She stilled his protest with a gentle touch. “They need to rest, too, and so does Dolly. Go now. I’ll come and check on you when I come in.”

  He hugged her and sidled over to Gideon. “Denke, Gideon.” He hesitated a moment, then flung his arms around Gideon�
�s neck in a throttling hug. “Denke.”

  Gideon patted him. “Sleep well.”

  Rachel handed him a flashlight. Standing in the barn doorway, she watched the light bob across the lawn, staying there until Joseph was safely into the house. Then she turned back to Gideon.

  “Is she going to make it?”

  “I don’t know.” He moved one of the kids to Dolly’s head, but she closed her eyes and ignored it. “She’s letting them nurse all right, but she should be cleaning them off and taking a bit of notice of them by now.”

  Rachel knelt next to Dolly’s head. “Poor little thing. She’s exhausted. Isn’t there anything we can do?”

  “Just wait. Pray.”

  “That I’ve been doing already.”

  Gideon moved fresh straw around mother and babies. He was limping, she realized as he straightened.

  “You’ve been here all day. You should go home and get some rest yourself already.”

  “I’ll stay.” He sat down, leaning against the wall again. “You might need me.”

  “You’ve already done so much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You don’t, that’s all. Joseph is a fine bu, and you should be happy with him. He did a wonderful-gut job tonight.”

  “As did you. You would have been a gut father.”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, she remembered, and she wished them back. But it was too late. “I’m sorry. I—”

  He touched her arm. “It’s all right. I hope I would have.”

  There seemed nothing to say to that. She just hoped he could sense her sympathy.

  He drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. “When I think about that night, it’s most often the boppli that I think of. He should have had his chance at life.”

  Her breath seemed strangled in her throat. Ezra had said that Gideon never spoke of it, not even to him.

  “He lives in Heaven,” she whispered.

  “Ja.” He stared at the goats, quiet now, but she didn’t think he was seeing them. “It was raining that night. So hard that I could barely see to keep the buggy on the road.” His hands tightened to fists against his legs. “We should have stayed at home and waited for the midwife, but Naomi wouldn’t hear of it. She was so sure something was wrong, so sure that I had to take her to the hospital. If I’d insisted, maybe—”