Sarah's Gift (Pleasant Valley 4)

by Marta Perry

  Alice patted her belly. “Who wouldn’t be tired, lugging all of this around? I keep telling William this one is going to come out big enough to shovel snow.”

  “How big were your other babies?” She helped Alice lie back on the narrow bed.

  “Eight pounds. Little Jacob was almost nine.” Alice frowned again as Sarah approached with the tape measure. “Emma doesn’t do that every time.”

  “I just like to see how the measurements are increasing. That helps us know how your boppli is growing.” She’d told herself she wouldn’t second-guess Emma’s methods, but taking the abdominal measurement at each visit was standard at her previous practice. “Ser gut.” She jotted down notes.

  Unfortunately the notebook reminded her of Aunt Emma’s angry suggestion that she look at the older woman’s notes on Aaron’s mother.

  She hadn’t done it. She wasn’t sure that her relationship with Aunt Emma would survive that.

  You could look at the book when Aunt Emma is out, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t ever have to know.

  No. She couldn’t. Sarah kept a smile on her face as she completed Alice’s examination, but her thoughts were in turmoil. She had to know the truth, but not that way.

  Somehow, she had to get either Aunt Emma or Aaron to talk about his mother’s death. Right now, that seemed impossible on both sides.

  “Everything looks wonderful gut,” she said, helping the woman sit up. “It won’t be long now until that boppli is in your arms.”

  “Gut, gut.” Alice patted her kapp to be sure it was in place. “You have a nice way about you,” she said, perhaps a little reluctantly. “I’m glad Emma has someone to help her.”

  “I am happy to be here.” Sarah’s fresh start might not be turning out exactly as anticipated, but the words were true. “Now, about the tests on the newborn—”

  She didn’t have a chance to finish. Alice drew back, face setting. “No need for that. There’s none of the diseases in my family, nor William’s.”

  Given the prevalence of genetic diseases among the Amish, Sarah was relieved to hear that, but it didn’t mean Alice’s baby shouldn’t be tested. The possibility was still there.

  “I think . . .”

  “Ach, Alice, how are you doing?” Aunt Emma bustled in. “Is my niece taking gut care of you?”

  “All right.” Alice sounded a bit grudging. “She wants me to have the boppli tested, but I was telling her there’s no need, ain’t so?”

  “Probably not . . .” Emma began, and then checked herself. Don’t disagree in front of the patient, her expression said. “Time enough to talk about that later. Now, you let William and the girls help you a bit, ja? You’ll be busy enough once this little one arrives. Get a bit of rest before that.”

  They both escorted Alice to the door, but under the casual conversation ran a thread of worry on Sarah’s part. Genetic testing might seem newfangled and unnecessary to women who’d had several healthy babies, but genetic diseases were a constant concern in Amish communities, with their common pool of ancestors.

  Sarah didn’t want to wrangle with Aunt Emma on the topic, but testing was too important to compromise. This point she’d have to press.

  Aunt Emma stood at the door for a moment, watching as Alice got into the waiting buggy. Then she turned to Sarah.

  “I know my patients,” she said, as if Sarah had challenged that.

  “I’m sure you do, better than I ever could.” That cost a pang of regret. “It’s encouraging that there’s no history of genetic illnesses in Alice’s family.”

  “So why bother with the testing? I know William, and he’ll say he can’t afford needless expenses.”

  “Would he say that about buying a new cow for his dairy herd?” Somehow she doubted that. Seeing the stubborn look on her aunt’s face, she touched Emma’s arm lightly. “I understand your feelings, and of course you know the families best.”

  Aunt Emma nodded, looking mollified.

  “Still, there’s always a chance,” Sarah went on. “We both know that. When the parents know immediately, they can start the proper care right away. If every newborn is tested as a matter of course, then no one will argue about it, ain’t so?”

  The stubbornness eased out of Emma’s face. “It’s true enough that it can be hard to talk about testing to those who need it.”

  “Ja.” Sarah had to blink back tears at the memory of the first client she’d had whose baby had been born with the maple syrup urine disease. The happiest time in a young couple’s life together had turned so quickly to sorrow.

  Aunt Emma put her arm around Sarah, surprising her with a hug. “Ach, this is why I need you, my Sarah. You will keep me up-to-date, ain’t so?”

  The tension drained out of Sarah as she returned her aunt’s hug. “And you’ll teach me what you’ve learned in a lifetime of being a midwife. It’s a fine trade, ja?”

  “Ja.” Aunt Emma released her, blinking away what might be tears. “This will work out. For both of us. You’ll see.”

  Sarah’s heart clutched. It would work out. It had to, because she had no other choices.

  Sarah watched the last patient of the day leave with a sense of satisfaction. Certainly some of the women had shown their preference for Aunt Emma, whom they knew and trusted, but that was only to be expected. And Aunt Emma had shown herself willing to compromise, which was a feat in itself. All in all, they were off to a fine start.

  At some point during the afternoon Sarah had realized that she was listening for the sound of Aaron’s wagon. It hadn’t come. Apparently he was determined not to be here when their clients were.

  She frowned, staring out at the brown winter grass. Aaron’s attitude was worrisome, and worse still was that moment when she’d looked into his face and felt . . . what? Attraction?

  Her cheeks grew warm. She hadn’t felt so much as a flicker of interest in a man since Levi’s death over a year ago. She hadn’t expected to, ever. And if that interest was only sleeping, and not dead, why would it rouse for Aaron, of all people?

  She brushed her apron straight with an impatient hand. These thoughts brought nothing constructive with them. Far better to make herself useful in the kitchen. Staying busy was always a remedy for worrying.

  “I had thought we’d have the rest of the chicken potpie for supper tonight.” Aunt Emma was busy at the stove. “But those Miller boys cleaned it all up. Goodness, but young Benjamin can eat.”

  “He’s still growing, that’s certain sure.” Sarah crossed the kitchen. “What can I do?”

  “I’m heating some beef stew I put up in September.” Aunt Emma emptied the contents of a mason jar into a kettle. “You might start some biscuits to go with the stew.”

  “I’ll do that.” Sarah reached into the cabinet for the earthenware bowl she always remembered Aunt Emma using for biscuits and dumplings. “It was nice, working together today, ain’t so?”

  “Ja. Reminded me of when you were here before, so serious and eager to learn.” Her aunt stirred the stew to keep it from sticking.

  “I wanted to be just like you, that’s why. You’re the reason I became a midwife. You know that.” She measured flour into the bowl.

  “I know.” Aunt Emma glanced at her, face serious. “Sometimes I thought . . . well, I worried that maybe the midwifery came between you and Levi.”

  Sarah’s fingers tightened on the handle of the wooden spoon, and she forced them to relax. “There was a time when I thought he was proud of my work. But when our own babies didn’t come . . .” It still hurt, thinking of the distance that had grown between them.

  “I know.” Her aunt’s voice was soft. “That’s hard on a marriage, for sure.”

  “My being a midwife didn’t help, I guess, but it didn’t cause the problem. And now . . . well, I’m just so glad I have a job to do that helps other women have babies.”

  Aunt Emma nodded, her eyes suspiciously bright. “It is gut work, that’s certain sure. Importa
nt work.”

  “Ja.” Maybe this was the right moment to bring up the testing again, to be sure they were in agreement. “I didn’t think to ask you earlier, but where do your mothers go for testing? In Ohio, we had a clinic we worked with. Is there anything in town?”

  “Not in Pleasant Valley, no. Only Dr. Mitchell, and I hear tell that he would talk every woman out of using a midwife if he could.”

  “That’s a shame.” It was what she’d heard from the other women, and apparently Aunt Emma believed the same. “Still, maybe he’d be willing to cooperate on the newborn testing.”

  Aunt Emma shook her head decidedly. “Better to use the clinic over near Fostertown. It’s farther, but Dr. Brandenmyer does gut work, and they’re doing research on the genetic diseases besides. Leah Glick does volunteer work for them. She can tell you all about it. In fact, you ought to go along the next time she’s going to the clinic. Just to let Dr. Brandenmyer know who you are.”

  Before she could respond, Aunt Emma had moved to the window. “A buggy. Who would be coming now . . . ach, it’s Jonas.” Her voice lifted. “What a nice surprise.”

  Aunt Emma hurried to the door, and Sarah followed more slowly. Not that she wasn’t happy to see her cousin, but what Aunt Emma had said about Jonas urging her to sell the house and move in with him . . . Well, Jonas might not be best pleased with Sarah right now.

  But Jonas, turning to her after hugging his mother, enveloped her in a hug, too. “My little cousin, all grown up. It is gut to see you, Sarah.”

  “And you.” She pressed her cheek against his, ruddy from the cold. “It’s been too long. How is Mary? And the kinder?”

  “All well. The little ones are growing like weeds, for sure.” He hung his coat on a peg in the back hall.

  “Having a family agrees with you.” She hadn’t seen Jonas since his wedding. He’d broadened out since then, and his chestnut brown beard was down to his chest.

  Jonas patted his stomach. “My Mary is a gut cook, for sure. But not so gut as my mamm.”

  Aunt Emma shook her head, smiling. “Don’t you let Mary hear you say that. A man should always like his wife’s cooking best. Ach, it’s so gut to see you.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming.” Jonas followed them into the kitchen. “I had a chance at a ride from Fostertown all of a sudden. I needed to see Bishop Mose about some new harness. My driver isn’t going back until later, so I borrowed a buggy from Bishop Mose and came to see if there might be enough supper for one more.”

  “There’s always enough.” Aunt Emma was beaming. “I’ll just get another jar of stew from the pantry.”

  “I’ll do that,” Sarah said quickly. “You sit down and visit.”

  She was just as glad to have a moment to think, so she took her time about locating the stew in the rows of jars that lined the shelves of the pantry. Jonas might be feeling that her coming had interfered with his plans for his mother. And he’d be right about that. Still, Emma seemed well able to decide for herself what she wanted.

  Sarah walked back into the kitchen ready to tell Jonas exactly that, should he bring the subject up.

  However, it seemed Jonas had no such thing in mind. The talk over supper was mostly about his growing family, the downturn in the economy that had left some Amish without the factory jobs they’d had, and the problems of keeping a good teacher at their school.

  It was only after the meal was over that Jonas seemed ready to tackle something else. “You sit down and put your feet up,” he urged his mother, leading her toward the living room. “I’ll help Sarah with the dishes.”

  “You don’t need to help me,” she said, when he returned and picked up a dish towel. “I can take care of these while you visit with your mother.”

  “When you don’t have sisters, you have to learn to help in the kitchen from time to time.” Jonas dried a plate vigorously. “Mary always says she’s glad my mamm taught me so well.”

  “Your mamm thinks the world of Mary, from everything she’s said.” She suspected that Jonas wouldn’t take long to reach the subject of his desire for a private chat.

  “Ja, that’s so. It’s a lucky man whose wife and mother get on so well as they do.” He slanted a glance toward Sarah. “That’s why we thought it best for Mammi to move in with us.”

  And there it was. “I’m sure Aunt Emma would like that when she’s ready.”

  “We thought she was ready now. Neither of us wanted to see her go through another winter here alone. But then you came.”

  It was not said angrily, but Sarah still felt the words were an accusation.

  “I came because your mother asked me to.”

  “Ach, ja, I know that.” Jonas frowned at the bowl he was drying. “If you’d talked to us before you agreed, things might have been different.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “They might have been, I guess. But why would I think of talking to you? Your mamm has always been an independent woman, able to make decisions for herself.”

  Jonas drew himself up, as if about to say something important. “Now that my father is gone, the responsibility for my mother is mine. It’s time she gave up working so hard and took it a little easy for the rest of her days.”

  Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Is that what your mamm thinks?”

  For a moment she thought Jonas would flare out at her. He looked very like the boy cousin who’d ordered her not to climb the apple tree when she was six. Of course she had, and gotten stuck, to boot.

  Then a smile tugged at Jonas’s mouth, and the pompous air vanished.

  “No, I guess it’s not.” The smile widened into a grin. “My mother is not the only independent woman in the family.”

  Sarah smiled back, her defensiveness evaporating. “Jonas, you know I wouldn’t do anything to harm your mamm. She’s not ready to give up yet, and now that I’m here, she needn’t work so hard. Or be alone in the house.”

  “Ja, that’s so.”

  She heard a reservation in his voice, and it troubled her.

  “If something else is wrong, just tell me.”

  Jonas rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating. Finally he seemed to make up his mind. “It seems to us that Mammi is getting a little forgetful these days. Mary tried to get her to go to the doctor about it, but Mammi wouldn’t hear of it.”

  If anything would strain the relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, unwelcome advice would be it.

  “I’m sorry, but—”

  “Have you seen any sign of her forgetting things?” Jonas leaned on the sink, looking into her face. “Sarah, it has me worried.”

  She tried to smile. Jonas had become a boy who was worried about his mother, not a man who was trying to make decisions for her.

  “Only once or twice since I’ve been here,” she said. “Just little things, like mistaking the day. And when someone lives alone, that’s not unusual.”

  “You think she’s all right, then?”

  She put her hand over his. “Will it make you feel better if I promise to keep my eyes open for any problems? If there are any, maybe I can find a way of getting her to the doctor.”

  He blew out a breath. “Ja, that would be a relief. Maybe it’s gut that you’ve komm after all.”

  He didn’t sound totally convinced, but that might be too much to hope for. She smiled and patted his hand. “I’ll look after her. I promise.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sarah heard the sounds of hammering early the next morning. Obviously the Miller brothers were hard at work after their disappearance the previous day.

  She hesitated for a moment. There was something she wanted to discuss with Aaron about the storage areas. Legitimate as that concern was, she was reluctant to press him into a discussion that involved the purpose to which the rooms would be put.

  That was foolish, wasn’t it? She’d prayed for the wisdom to deal with Aaron. Staying away from him wasn’t dealing with him—it was hiding. Pulling her shawl around
her shoulders, she opened the door to the addition.

  All three brothers worked today—maybe with the idea of making up for missing yesterday. Aaron looked up at the sound of the door opening, his face unreadable.

  “Sarah.” He nodded in greeting.

  “You are making progress.” The uprights had been replaced and the framing was finished. “Already it is warmer to work out here, with the wind cut off.”

  “It will be even better when we have the insulation installed.” Nathan’s relaxed smile accompanied the words. In the face of Aaron’s apparent disapproval of her and Benjamin’s teenage sulkiness, Nathan seemed most ready to be friends.

  “You won’t freeze your fingers when you work, then.” She’d noticed that while the two younger boys wore work gloves, Aaron seemed to prefer touching the wood with his hands as he cut and hammered. Even now his hand caressed the board he handled as if it were a living creature.

  “Ja, that’s for sure,” Nathan said. At a look from Aaron, he turned back to his cutting.

  She’d like to believe that Aaron was only concerned with his brother giving his attention to the job, but she suspected his reaction was more personal than that. She rejected the temptation to escape back into the house and forced herself to approach him.

  When she stood next to him, he kept his gaze on his hand for a long moment. Then he turned to her.

  “Is there something you need, Sarah?”

  “I’d like to discuss the storage areas with you. If you can come into the examining room with me for just a moment—”

  “Not now.” The words were curt enough to be insulting. He seemed to realize that, and he gave a twitch of his firm lips that might have been meant for a smile. “It’s best we finish what we’re doing at the moment, so we can get on with the insulation this afternoon.” He turned to Benjamin, seeming to dismiss her. “You can start cutting the insulation now, so it will be ready.”

  Benjamin seemed to freeze, and even she could read the guilt in his face.