Their Son's Amish Baby

by Samantha Price

  “I might go to bed now,” Bree said.

  “Take this with you.” Cora picked up the kerosene lamp and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. I guess I’ll need this.”

  “Good night, Bree.”

  “Night, Cora.” Bree trudged up the stairs, suddenly feeling very tired. She pushed open her bedroom door and placed the light on the nightstand. When she heard noises outside, she hurried to look out the window. It was Andrew doing something with his horse. She stared down at him and by the light of the moon she saw a handsome well-muscled man. Growing fond of Simon’s brother was definitely not in her scheme and she wasn’t about to ruin her plan. If Simon’s parents adopted her baby, she’d be able to walk away knowing everything would be all right.

  Bree recalled the only advice her mother had given about men: there were nice rich men and nice poor men so why settle for a nice poor man?

  That had been her mother’s sales pitch for Ryan. The only thing was that Ryan was not a nice man, but at least Bree had found that out sooner rather than later. Bree hoped that her parents would not tell Ryan about the child she was carrying. Ryan just might put two and two together and realize the baby had to be his.

  Bree was pleased when she woke early the next morning, without anyone else having to wake her. The sun was only just peeping over the horizon.

  She turned on her phone to check for messages, but still, there were none. As she switched her cell phone off, she felt guilty for turning it on in the house after Andrew had asked her not to. Sick and tired of feeling either guilty or mad with herself, she changed into a dress, brushed her hair and headed downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs she was faced with Andrew, who looked as white as a snowstorm.

  “Bree! I was just on my way up to let Cora know that I’m heading out to look for Mamm and Dat.”

  “They didn’t come home?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ll tell her.”

  “Denke. I’m going now.” Andrew turned and headed out the front door, then seconds later, Bree heard the sound of rapid hoofbeats.

  Bree walked into the living room and collapsed onto the couch wondering where they could be and what might have happened to them. She was nibbling on her fingernails when Cora ran down the stairs.

  “Where’s Andrew going so fast?”

  “He said to tell you your parents didn’t come home last night and he’s going to look for them.”

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “Did he call anyone?”

  Bree shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. That’s all he said, he was in a hurry.”

  “I think they were probably too tired to travel home and stayed at someone’s house.”

  “Has that happened before?”

  Cora shook her head.

  “I’m sure they’re all right.”

  Cora nodded. “I’ll fix you some breakfast.”

  “I’ll help,” Bree said as she pushed herself up from the couch.

  Bree tried her best to keep Cora’s mind off what might have happened to Mr. and Mrs. Stauffer.

  It was an hour later when Andrew came home followed closely by his parents’ buggy. Cora ran out to meet them.

  Mrs. Stauffer stepped down from the buggy looking ghostly pale, like she hadn’t slept a wink.

  Bree stood at a distance, staying near the front door, and heard Mrs. Stauffer say, “We were at Henry and Ruth’s house when Henry had a heart attack right in front of us. They didn’t have a phone to call out so your vadder had to run to the Millers’ haus next door. Then Henry was gone before any help could reach him. He died right in front of us. We stayed the night with Ruth.”

  Cora put her arm around her mother. “Come inside.”

  Bree didn’t know what to do or say. She felt like an intruder at that moment. She hurried back to the kitchen and sat down. When Cora guided Mrs. Stauffer into the kitchen, Bree said that she was sorry about her friend and Mrs. Stauffer nodded politely.

  “Can I do something, Cora?” Bree asked.

  “Nee, you just finish your breakfast.”

  When Mr. Stauffer and Andrew came into the kitchen, Bree felt she should make herself scarce. She was at a loss to know what the appropriate thing would be to say to everyone.

  A week later, Simon’s family was attending another funeral and this time they were joined by Bree. They entered the Fullers’ house, where the body had been laid for people to pay their last respects. Bree hung back and stood just inside the front door. She’d never seen a dead body before and she didn’t feel the need to see one now.

  “You okay?” Bree looked up to see Andrew.

  “Yes. I just don’t like funerals.” Bree knew that the whole thing had been hard on Andrew’s mother, seeing Mr. Fuller drop dead just weeks after her son had died tragically. She’d been in bed with a headache two days straight when she’d come home from Ruth Fuller’s house on that Monday morning.

  “Not many people do. We’ll be heading to the graveyard soon.”

  “That’ll be good. I need some fresh air.”

  He took hold of her arm. “Come outside now. You don’t have to stay inside if you don’t feel well.”

  Once the sunlight reached her face she felt better. “I didn’t want to appear rude. I’m not sure how all the rules go.”

  “We don’t have rigid rules about things.”

  Bree nodded, while thinking that Andrew was so entrenched into the Amish way of life he didn’t realize just how many rules he was following.

  When more people followed them outside, Andrew said, “Come over to the side. They’ll be bringing the coffin out soon.”

  “Is that the buggy it’s going in?” She pointed to a large buggy that looked like it’d been made for carrying coffins.

  “Jah. Then we’ll all follow it to the graveyard.”

  There was such a sense of formality and tradition associated with the Amish that Bree knew the members would have a sense of belonging to something larger than themselves. That was something she’d missed out on in life – belonging to something or someone. She looked down at the bump under her dress and hoped her baby would be happy with the decision she’d made. Her baby would belong to a loving group of people and never know loneliness like she’d known. One thing she knew for certain was that her baby would never be called a mistake.

  Bree stood still next to Andrew as four men carried the coffin out of the house on their shoulders. They lowered the shiny wooden coffin into the buggy.

  More people came out of the house, and then Andrew said, “Okay, let’s go.”

  She walked with him to his father’s buggy and she traveled with Andrew’s family as they fell in line with the funeral procession. The buggy with the coffin led the way followed by a long trail of buggies.

  It brought back memories of Simon’s funeral, but then she’d been an outsider, and now she felt like she was somehow a part of Simon’s family. They didn’t have far to go before they were getting out of the buggy once more.

  The crowd gathered around the open grave while Bree stood back. The bishop spoke words about life and death. When he ended his words by saying that now Henry Fuller was safe in God’s house, chills ran up and down Bree’s spine. How good it would be if what the bishop had said was all true. What if there really was a loving creator who cared for everyone individually? Whether it was true or not, it did seem to give all the Amish people some hope.

  Bree looked on as the men lowered the coffin into the grave. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone lift his head. It was Andrew; he was now walking over to her.

  “You okay?”

  Bree knew he was concerned. “Yeah. It’s just a bit sad. Someone’s alive one minute and the next they’re gone.”

  He nodded. “I know. It’s hard not to be a little fearful of the unknown.”

  Bree was certain he was going to give her a spiel about how believers were better off with God, but how would it be better to be dead? “How’s your mother handling it?” B
ree asked. “Everyone was so quiet in the buggy I was too afraid to say anything.”

  “I’m sure Simon’s death has all come back to her since we’re all at another funeral so soon. As the bishop said, death is a part of life and it’s something we accept as being a cycle. We’re born and then we die.”

  Glancing up at the sky, Bree said, “That’s something no one can escape. No matter how rich they are.”

  “You thinking about your parents?”

  Bree gave a small laugh. “I try my best not to think about them, but I still find it hard to believe they sent me away.”

  “Maybe they’ve had time to cool down and think things through. Perhaps they see things differently now.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows?” One thing was for certain, Bree didn’t want to find out. She was not going to risk hearing one more time what a disappointment she’d been to them since she’d been born.

  “I’ll go with you back to your place if you still want to go. You mentioned collecting some things from your parents’ house.”

  “Would you?”

  He nodded.

  “I should do that soon. Thank you. Maybe some time next week?”

  “You let me know.”

  “What happens now? Is it over?” Bree asked.

  “We go to Mrs. Lapp’s house to eat. There’s always food after a funeral. Mrs. Lapp is a good friend of Mrs. Fuller.”

  She stared into Andrew’s eyes.

  He laughed. “What is it that you’re thinking?”

  “You’ve been such a good friend to me since I’ve been here. Thank you. I haven’t had many great friends.”

  “I told you I’d be your new best friend.”

  Bree knew their friendship had developed into something genuine and Andrew was not being kind to her out of a sense of duty alone.

  They arrived home late in the evening on the day of Mr. Fuller’s funeral. Mr. and Mrs. Stauffer went straight to bed while Andrew tended to the horse and buggy.

  “Has your mother got another headache?” Bree asked Cora when they sat together in the kitchen.

  “It seems like it. She’s not been herself ever since Mr. Fuller died. I was going to spend a couple of days with Susan, a friend of mine, but I thought Mamm might feel a bit off for a few days.”

  “I can understand that. It must have been an awful shock to have the poor man die right in front of her.”

  Cora stood up and headed to the stove. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

  “Thank you. That sounds good.”

  Just as Cora had placed the third cup of hot chocolate on the table, Andrew came through the back door that led into the kitchen. “Ah, hot chocolate. Do we have marshmallows?”

  “Jah, we do.” Cora reached onto a top shelf and pulled down a jar of pink and white marshmallows. When she sat down, she pushed the jar over to Andrew.

  When Bree saw Andrew’s face light up, she smiled. “You have a sweet tooth?”

  “I guess I do.” He shook four marshmallows into his hot drink and stirred them. “Would you like some?” he asked, looking across at Bree.

  “I’ll try some.”

  He pushed the jar over toward her. “You’ve never had marshmallows in hot chocolate?”

  “Never.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing. Put at least two in and let them melt.”

  When Bree took two out, she offered the jar to Cora who shook her head. “They’re too sweet for me.”

  Bree picked up her spoon, stirred the marshmallows, and then watched them melt.

  “Now take a sip.” Andrew brought the hot chocolate to his lips.

  After Bree watched him she took a sip herself. “Mmm. It is delicious.”

  “I know. I can’t believe you’ve never tried it.”

  “I don’t normally have hot chocolate at all. I used to be a coffee drinker before … well, before it made me sick to drink coffee.”

  “I think it’s horrible to have the marshmallows,” Cora said. “It’s much better plain.”

  When Cora finished her drink she went to bed leaving Andrew and Bree sitting at the table. Bree was glad to be left alone with Andrew. If things in her life had been different, she would’ve liked a man such as he. She wondered how she looked to him by the soft glow of the overhead gaslight.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I am. You’re teaching me some important things in life. Like how to drink hot chocolate. Although, it looks like you’re eating yours you’ve got so many marshmallows in there.”

  He looked into his drink. “Only four. I would’ve had more, but I knew Cora would’ve turned up her nose at me.”

  Bree laughed at him. They talked for at least another hour before Bree thought she should call it a night and go to bed.

  Chapter 14

  As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send him:

  for he refresheth the soul of his masters.

  Proverbs 25:13

  * * *

  Andrew waited in the taxi while Bree walked up to the tall fence that surrounded her parents’ house. She walked through the front gate, glad that they’d left it unlocked as they normally did. Once she was around the back of the house, she reached up into the side of one of the hanging planters and retrieved the back door key. Staring at the key, she couldn’t believe that they’d kept it in the same place. Had they hoped she’d return? They didn’t seem too keen to keep her out. She hurried to the door, put the key in the lock, and heard a click as it unlocked.

  Bree pressed the alarm code in. It was two - zero – one - one. It was twenty for her mother’s birthday and eleven for her father’s. Once she had punched the numbers into the keypad, she hurried along the hallway to her parents’ bedroom.

  She rifled through drawers hoping to find some money, well aware that the meter of the taxi was ticking over. Hopefully she’d at least find enough money so Andrew wouldn’t have to pay for the taxi fare. Then at the back of her father’s sock drawer she found a roll of notes. She sat on the bed and quickly counted them out. It was five thousand dollars. That should be enough to pay my doctor, and everything – I hope.

  After she stuffed the roll of notes into a Chanel bag she’d grabbed from her mother’s collection, she headed to the door. Before she got there, she smelled a faint waft of perfume and remembered her mother’s collection of expensive perfumes she kept on display in her dressing room.

  Now standing in front of the perfumes, she grabbed a bottle of something that looked good, pulled the cap off, and sprayed it in the air a couple of times and then walked through it. Her mother had often applied perfume that way, but had never allowed Bree to go near her collection. Just as she was putting the perfume back she saw a letter. She picked it up, turned it over and saw that it was from Ryan. Why’s he writing to my parents? I need to find that out. She stuffed the letter into the Chanel purse with the cash. Whatever he had to say to her parents had to be something to do with her.

  Pleased with her newfound freedom, armed with a bundle of cash in a designer purse, she hurried down the hall, and then flicked the alarm back on. She was careful to replace the key exactly where she’d found it and then she hurried back to Andrew who was waiting in the taxi.

  “Did you get what you were after?” Andrew asked when she got back into the taxi.

  “Yes. Everything was right where I left it.”

  “Good.” Andrew had the taxi driver take them back home.

  When they got back to the house, and the taxi was heading down the drive, Andrew said, “Before we go inside. I want to ask you to come somewhere with me.”

  Barely able to keep a smile from her face, she asked, “Where?”

  “To a horse auction.”

  “I’d love to. When is it?” Truth was, she would’ve gone anywhere with him.

  “It’s next week.”

  “Okay. Are you going to buy a horse?”

  “Dat’s horse is
getting a bit old and we’ll need to retire him soon.”

  “How do you retire him?”

  “Don’t look so worried. We don’t have him killed or anything.”

  “I’ve heard a lot of bad things about what happens to horses when people retire them. Glue factory, dog meat, that kind of thing.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “My family would never allow that to happen. Our horses are like our dogs, they’re pets.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “He’ll graze in our paddock for the rest of his days. Anyway, we don’t need to replace him just yet, but it doesn’t hurt to look. If I see a good horse going cheap I’ll buy him.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re so kind to animals. That shows you’re a good person.”

  “Was there any doubt?”

  He laughed. “No. There was never any doubt. You were a good friend of Simon’s so that tells me enough right there.”

  The next day Marie had another of her headaches, and Cora had stayed overnight at a friend's house.

  Joel asked Bree, “Are you able to look after Marie today? She won’t cause you concern, you’ll just need to rewet her washcloth when it’s dry and take fresh drinking water up to her. I don’t think she’ll want any food.”

  “Of course I can. I’ll be happy to.”

  “I would stay home myself, but we’ve got a deadline for this job. We need to get it to lock-up stage before rain sets in. Rain’s forecast for Friday.”

  “Yes, go. We’ll be fine.” Bree wondered whether Marie would be able to cope with a baby if she got a headache every time she was under strain or pressure. But if she’d had three children before now, surely she had a way of coping. Maybe Joel had stepped in to help in the times when she was ill.

  Bree went to the kitchen and looked out the window at Mr. Stauffer and Andrew loading things in their wagon. Then her eyes lowered to all the washing up in front of her and she decided to get started with the work; then she’d poke her head through Marie’s bedroom door to see if she wanted anything.