Sarah's Gift (Pleasant Valley 4)

by Marta Perry

  “Not only that.” His blue eyes were suspiciously bright. “I know you must have talked to my brother. Denke, Sarah. Denke.”

  “It’s all right.” Did she dare say anything more? “Your brother loves you very much, I know. Maybe sometimes he speaks before he thinks.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You are a gut friend, Sarah. Denke.” He turned and hurried away.

  Sarah closed the door slowly, her heart insensibly lifted by Benjamin’s words. Maybe she needed to know that someone thought well of her.

  Aaron had nearly forgotten what a joy it was to have all four of them sitting around the kitchen table. Their family felt complete again—their faces relaxed and happy in the glow of the gaslight.

  Benjamin had been telling Molly the story of Louise’s fall through the ice. He told it lightly enough, but he knew Molly saw through that to the fear beneath. She clasped his hand warmly on the tabletop.

  Odd, how he and Nathan and Benjamin got on so much better together when Molly was there with them. She seemed to smooth off the rough places where they bumped against each other.

  He’d noticed that Sarah did the same, easing tension by her very presence. He frowned down at his coffee cup, trying to sort out the complications Sarah had brought to his life. It would be simpler if he could just decide to distrust her, but he couldn’t.

  He hadn’t been able to get his mind off what she’d said to him on Sunday. Her comment that Benjamin would grow up to be like him kept echoing in his mind, as if Sarah’s soft voice spoke in his ear. If Sarah’s words were true, he wouldn’t have to worry so much about Benjamin’s future, would he?

  Or did that mean that Benjamin would become a man who would expect the worst of someone he loved? The thought shocked him so that his hand clenched the cup.

  He didn’t think that about Benj. It was ridiculous. Just because he’d jumped to the conclusion that his little brother was at fault in Louise’s accident—

  He backed away from that memory, confused, unsure of himself for the first time in a long while. That was Sarah’s doing, making him question himself this way.

  He wouldn’t think about her. He’d just enjoy Molly’s first night at home.

  “I didn’t know you could cook so well, Nathan.” Molly pushed her empty plate back. “Seems like you won’t need me to do any cooking while I’m here, ain’t so?”

  Nathan grinned, knowing she was teasing. “If you want to have steak-and-onion pie every night.”

  “That’s the only thing he cooks,” Benjamin said. “You should have seen what happened when he tried to make chicken potpie like you do.” He rolled his eyes. “Even the dog wouldn’t eat it.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Nathan protested. “Was it, Aaron?”

  “Not if you like noodles the consistency of rubber bands.” Some of Nathan’s ventures into cooking were downright terrible, but if Aaron and Benjamin complained too much, he might stop entirely. Aaron had learned his way around the kitchen at an early age, but he’d far rather be washing up the dishes than cooking.

  “Ach, you’re kidding,” Molly said, dimples appearing in her round cheeks. “I taught Nathan better than that, didn’t I?”

  Benjamin shook his head. “If not for the neighbors taking pity on us now and then, you’d find us looking like scarecrows.”

  “You’d best be careful, or Nathan will make you take over,” Aaron warned.

  “Speaking of neighbors, I hear you have a new neighbor that you’ve been getting friendly with.” Molly looked at him as she spoke, laughter in her blue eyes.

  “Who told you that?” The words came out sharper than they should have.

  “Anna Fisher writes to me now and then,” Molly said. “She told me all about Emma’s niece coming to live with her. I remember Sarah fine from when she was here a few years ago. It is nice for you to have a pretty new neighbor, ain’t so?”

  “Sarah is pretty,” Benjamin said, with the air of one making a new discovery. “She’s kind of quiet, so you don’t notice it at first.”

  “Not like you, jabbering away to everyone you meet.” Nathan jogged Molly’s elbow.

  Molly ignored him. “So Anna says she’s a midwife, like her aunt, come to help out Emma.”

  Nathan nodded. “I guess Emma is glad of some help. We’ve seen quite a bit of Sarah, since we’ve been doing some work over there.”

  “Really?” Molly acted surprised, but Aaron had a feeling she’d already known that perfectly well from Anna or one of her other friends. “What are you doing?”

  “Adding on two rooms,” Aaron said shortly, having no wish to discuss what the rooms were for.

  “That’s so women who want to have their babies at Emma’s can,” Benjamin said. “Sarah calls them birthing rooms.”

  Molly nudged her little brother. “Next you’ll be telling me that you know all about such things.”

  Benjamin flushed. “Well, that’s what Sarah says, anyway.”

  “That sounds like a fine job for the three of you to catch this time of the year.” Molly patted Benjamin’s arm, but her gaze was on Aaron, and there was a question in it.

  She knew him better than anyone, and right now she was wondering why he’d go anywhere near a job like this one. He didn’t respond. He couldn’t, not without telling her too much.

  “So you think well of our new neighbor, then,” Molly prompted, looking at him.

  “She seems like a nice enough woman.” But behind the neutral words he was seeing the caring in Sarah’s eyes and remembering the healing in her touch.

  “Such a careful answer.” Molly grinned. “Ach, well, I’ll see for myself, won’t I?”

  “What do you mean?” He couldn’t help the sharpness of his tone.

  Molly patted her belly. “This little one will be coming along in six weeks or so, and I am in need of a midwife.”

  “No.” Aaron’s chair scraped as he shoved it back, hardly aware of having risen. “No, you won’t go to any midwife.”

  Three faces stared at him, showing varying degrees of shock.

  “But, Aaron . . .” Nathan began, and stopped when Molly put her hand on his arm. They seemed to speak to each other without words.

  Then Nathan was rising. “Komm, Benjamin. Let’s go see that the horses are settled for the night.”

  “But we don’t need—”

  Nathan didn’t let him finish. He took him by the elbow and propelled him out of the kitchen. In a moment the back door had slammed behind them.

  “Aaron?” There was a question in Molly’s voice, and she made her way around the table to him. “What is going on with you?”

  “Nothing. I just think you should go to a doctor, that’s all. I’ll get a driver to take you. . . .”

  He let the words fade away, because she was shaking her head.

  “I hoped . . . I prayed you were over all those feelings. When I heard about you doing the job for Sarah, I thought maybe you’d found peace about Mammi.”

  He pressed his hands hard against the top of the table. Pain had a stranglehold on his throat, but he had to speak.

  “Mammi died because of the midwife. If she’d gone to the hospital, she’d be alive today.”

  “You don’t know that.” Molly touched his hand gently. “What is the sense of thinking that way? What happened is God’s will. We must accept and move on.”

  He had to unclench his jaw before he could answer. “I have accepted God’s will. But that doesn’t mean I want my only sister to put her life in the hands of a midwife.” He closed his eyes for a second at the memory. Distant as it was, right now it seemed very close. “Please, Molly. Don’t make me worry about you. See a doctor.”

  She looked at him for a long moment. Then she rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

  “I’ll think about it, all right? But you need to remember something, Aaron. This is my baby. Mine and Jacob’s.” She moved her palm in a gentle circle on her apron, and for an instant her face seemed transfigured with love. “It’s ha
rd with Jacob so far away now, but we have to decide what’s best for the boppli. Not you.”

  Sarah and Leah arrived at the clinic on Wednesday in a car driven by Ben Morgan, an elderly Englischer who seemed to enjoy earning a bit of money ferrying the Amish to places they couldn’t easily reach by horse and buggy.

  “You ladies take your time,” he said as he pulled up at the front entrance of a long building—new, but built in a style that imitated a large farmhouse. “I’m heading down the road to the coffee shop, but I’ll come back in about an hour or so.”

  “Denke, Ben.” Leah was obviously used to the process. She handed money to Ben as she slid out of the car. “We will see you later, then.”

  Sarah walked up the steps with Leah, trying to ignore the way her stomach crunched in anticipation. She needed to develop a working relationship with the people she’d meet in the clinic. Unfortunately, she was well aware of how some medical personnel regarded lay midwives.

  “Don’t be nervous.” Leah squeezed her arm, apparently well aware of her feelings. “Honestly, I was that frightened the first time I came here—well, I can hardly believe it now.”

  “You’re a valuable volunteer to them.” Sarah had learned enough about the work Leah did, gathering Amish family tree information to track genetic diseases, to know that the clinic was very fortunate to have her. “Some of these people may see me as a competitor, and an unqualified one at that.”

  Her mind flickered to Dr. Mitchell and his apparent opposition to midwives. If it was true that he’d hoped Aunt Emma was going out of business, what must he think now that Sarah had joined her?

  “Then we’ll have to change their minds about the value of midwives, won’t we?”

  Leah opened the door and walked into a wide center hallway with warm wooden plank floors and a maple bench against the wall under a row of hooks. She removed her coat and bonnet, hanging them from one of the hooks, and motioned for Sarah to do the same.

  Sarah hung up her outer clothes and brushed her skirt down even though it didn’t need it. There was nothing to be nervous about...

  Well, there was, really, but she couldn’t let that fact hold her back from what she’d come here to do. The newborn testing was too important to give way to her qualms.

  “The clinic waiting room,” Leah said quietly. She gestured to a long room on the right. An Amish couple sat in a pair of rocking chairs, the woman holding a small child in her lap. The pair looked up and nodded, seeming at home in this setting.

  As they should be. The room was furnished with sturdy wooden pieces that looked as if they’d been made by an Amish craftsman, and the walls had been painted a soothing cream color. One corner of the room had been fitted up as a play area with a child-size table and chairs and a box of toys.

  “This is very nice. It looks welcoming, not like a clinic at all.”

  Leah smiled slightly. “The first time I came here, the waiting room was lined with plastic chairs in bright colors and the walls covered with so many posters it made me dizzy. Now it’s more comfortable, especially for the Amish patients, I think.”

  Sarah nodded. She would guess that Leah might have had something to do with the changes, but she didn’t ask, knowing Leah would not want to sound prideful.

  “The examining rooms are behind the waiting room,” Leah said. “This whole side of the building is for treating patients, and on the other side, all the research is being done.” She crossed the hall to a door that must lead into that other world. “One day the things they learn here may keep our children safe from genetic diseases. That’s my prayer.”

  “Mine also,” Sarah said, liking Leah more each time she saw her. “Even now, such progress is being made in treatment that would have seemed impossible ten or fifteen years ago. The earlier treatment is started, the better the outcome for the child.”

  Leah nodded, opening the door. “And the better we’re able to educate the parents and prepare them for the future, too.”

  Sarah followed her into the research area, her tension ratcheting up even higher. This area was far different from the waiting room. Offices and labs opened onto the tiled, pale-green hallway down which Leah led her. Various people were bent over machines she couldn’t begin to guess the purpose of.

  For the most part, the researchers were so intent on their jobs that they didn’t take notice of them. One white-coated woman glanced away from her computer, nodding to Leah in a friendly manner. Clearly Leah was at home in both worlds.

  An Englischman came striding down the hall, frowning down at some sort of cell phone in his hand. He looked up, saw them, and broke into a smile.

  “Leah!” He reached them and threw his arms around Leah in a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming today. This is a nice surprise.”

  Sarah fought to control her expression at the embrace. It was not her business to judge Leah’s relationship with this man.

  Leah detached herself from his grasp, straightening her apron, smiling. “Sarah, this impetuous person is one of the researchers I work with—Johnny Kile. Johnny is Rachel Brand’s twin brother. Johnny, I want you to meet Sarah Mast, Emma Stoltzfus’s niece.”

  So the man was both Rachel’s brother and a medical researcher. Today was full of surprises, but that certainly explained his greeting to Leah. They must have been friends since childhood.

  “Wie bist du heit,” she said. “I am pleased to meet you. I know your sister.”

  Johnny’s smile reminded her of Rachel’s, and she saw the strong resemblance now that she knew.

  “Welcome, Sarah. Has Leah talked you into helping her with the information gathering?”

  “Ach, no,” Leah said. “I should have explained myself better. Sarah is a midwife, just come to serve us in Pleasant Valley.”

  Something changed in Johnny’s expression at the words—that indefinable look of someone who disapproved but would be polite. His sister, Rachel, was pregnant. Maybe he thought she would be better off going to a doctor than a midwife.

  “She is here to meet with Dr. Brandenmyer today about newborn testing,” Leah explained. “Will you let him know we are here?”

  Johnny nodded, going to a phone on a nearby desk. While he did that, Leah set the black case she carried on the desk and took out a folder.

  “I’ll be giving my findings to someone who will enter them into the computer,” she said. “When you are finished talking with Dr. Brandenmyer, I’ll be around here someplace. Or ask anyone.”

  Sarah surreptitiously wiped her hands on her skirt. “I won’t be long. I’m sure Dr. Brandenmyer is a very busy person.”

  When the man himself loped down the hall a few minutes later, that sense was confirmed. Dr. Brandenmyer had a lean, intelligent face, a pair of piercing eyes, and an air of knowing everything about everyone around him.

  “So this is the new midwife.” He greeted Sarah with a look that seemed to go right through her. “I was just talking to Dr. O’Neill about you.”

  Sarah blinked at the mention of the physician she’d worked with in Ohio. “I hope he is well.”

  “Fine, fine.” He smiled. “He thinks very highly of you, you know.”

  So Dr. Brandenmyer had been checking up on her. She couldn’t blame him for that. She could only be relieved that the report had been favorable.

  “I enjoyed very much working with him. He cares deeply about his patients.”

  He nodded. “That comes through, doesn’t it?” He glanced at Johnny and Leah. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you? I’d like to show the clinic area to Mrs. Mast.”

  The walk across to the clinic side didn’t take long, but Dr. Brandenmyer used that time to turn Sarah’s mind inside out, learning her opinions on every subject related to childbirth. He nodded gravely when she talked about the importance of having newborns tested.

  “That’s an important step. Even though we don’t yet have a cure, the diseases can be managed much more effectively if we know about the situation from the beginning.”

&n
bsp; “Ja, that’s so. I feel that every Amish baby should be tested automatically, regardless of whether a disease has been found in the family. It’s such a simple thing to do, and it can save so much wondering and heartache.”

  Sarah paused, distracted. The young Amish woman she’d seen in the waiting room stood in the hallway, hesitating by the door to a treatment room. Sarah’s heart clenched. She knew the emotion the woman attempted to hide. Fear. She was afraid of whatever came next.

  She shouldn’t interfere, but she couldn’t just walk away, either. She went to the young woman, touching her arm gently.

  “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

  At the sound of Pennsylvania Dutch speech, the young woman turned to Sarah, relief relaxing her taut features.

  “I have to have an ultrasound.” She pronounced the English word carefully, hand cradling her belly in a gesture of protection. “I haven’t had one before. What if it hurts my baby?”

  “No, no, it won’t do that. My name is Sarah. What is yours?”

  “Naomi. Naomi Haus.” She flushed slightly. “I’m sorry if I’m being foolish.”

  “It’s never foolish to say when something bothers you. The person who gives you the test is just going to run an instrument across your belly. It doesn’t hurt, and it will give the doctor an image of your baby.”

  “Will it see if something is wrong with my baby?” Naomi’s eyes filled with tears.

  Sarah glanced at Dr. Brandenmyer, afraid of seeing disapproval there. But he was watching them with understanding warmth in his eyes. He nodded, as if saying that she should answer.

  “The ultrasound shows some problems, but not everything,” she said cautiously, not knowing what Naomi’s doctor might suspect. “I promise you that it won’t harm your baby.”

  “Mrs. Haus, would it make you feel better to have Mrs. Mast come in with you for the ultrasound?” Dr. Brandenmyer asked.

  “Oh, ja.” Relief flooded Naomi’s face. “I would like that if . . . if you don’t mind.” She looked at Sarah.

  “I would be happy to.” Sarah put her arm around the woman.