by Mary Davis
Jessica stood in his way. “Stay with her until Dr. Kathleen comes in. It’s best if she’s not alone.” She skittered out of the room.
He stared after her. He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t know what to do. With the Murphy bed down, there wasn’t much space to move around, so he sat on the edge of the desk and watched for signs of the onset of another pain.
“Stop staring at me.”
He couldn’t. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t care. Talk about your family. Tell me a story. Why you like being a blacksmith. Anything.”
“We needed a blacksmith in our community. Ours had passed away, and I don’t care so much for farming. Don’t tell anyone.”
She smiled at that, and he continued to tell her about how he got started, learning from a neighboring community’s blacksmith.
Dr. Kathleen came in, and he stood.
She pointed toward the door. “You can wait in the other room.”
Finally. He escaped as quickly as possible before the doctor changed her mind.
The Miller family occupied all the seats. Eli would rather stand anyway.
Deborah Miller also stood. “Meine vater and Amos are in the barn with Noah Lambright. You could go join them if you like.”
He would love to retreat with the other men. “I’ll do that after the doctor tells me how she’s doing.”
It seemed like forever before Dr. Kathleen emerged. He checked his watch. Had it been only a few minutes? He crossed to her. “How is she?”
“She’s doing fine. It will be a little while yet. Why don’t you go sit with her?”
“Me?”
She patted his arm. “She’ll be less scared if she’s not alone.”
But he wouldn’t. “Why not one of these women?”
“Because she asked for you.” The doctor walked into the first room with her other mutter in labor.
Eli took a deep breath and entered the one with Rainbow Girl in it. He smiled. “How are you?”
“Apparently, I haven’t had nearly enough of these pains that feel as though I’m being ripped in half. It might be a while yet before the baby comes. And the pains will probably get a lot worse. How is that possible? I already feel like I’m going to die with each one.”
He did not want to see her in any more pain. He cocked his thumb toward the door. “There are several women out there. I’m sure any of them would be happy to come in here with you. You’d probably be more comfortable with one of them.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay with me.”
He did mind. “Of course, I’ll stay. Whatever you want.” He sat on the edge of the desk again.
“I don’t really know those women. I mean I know them, but I don’t really know them.” She sucked in a breath between her teeth.
He fell to his knees beside the bed and took her hand. “Squeeze it as hard as you like. I can take it.”
She did.
And it actually hurt.
Two hours later, Teresa Miller in the next room had a baby boy named Micah. After seven girls, Bartholomew Miller finally had a son. He must be more than pleased.
Four hours after that, Eli continued to pace in the waiting area. As it had turned out, the rush to get to the clinic hadn’t needed to be so rushed after all. Rainbow Girl had been offered the chance to go to the hospital in Goshen, but she turned it down as long as she had Dr. Kathleen. Rainbow Girl screamed in pain every minute or two, but fortunately her parents were there. Her mutter at her side and her vater pacing with Eli in the waiting area. They glanced at one another every third pass or so. The bishop sat in an overstuffed armchair, head back, eyes closed. How could he be so relaxed?
It seemed like forever had passed before a cry finally heralded the birth of the second baby that day.
Eli’s breath released in a rush of relief.
When Rainbow Girl’s vater was invited to go in and see his daughter and grandchild, Eli slumped onto the love seat, completely worn-out. How could he be this exhausted? He hadn’t done anything. Rainbow Girl had to be utterly spent. How had she done this all day?
He didn’t know how long he’d sat there before the doctor came out. He stood. “How is she?”
The bishop stood, as well.
She nodded. “Mutter and daughter are doing fine.”
“And what about the baby? Is it a boy or girl?”
She smiled with a hint of a laugh behind it. “A girl.”
Eli smiled back. “A little girl.”
“Would you like to go in and see them?”
Ja, he would but was tentative. “I don’t want to bother anyone.”
“Let me ask.” She disappeared and returned quickly. “She wants you to come in.”
The bishop patted his arm. “Tell Andrew and Leah that I’m heading home and will let the other children know.” He left.
Eli followed the doctor into the room and told them the bishop had gone home.
Her mutter sat in a chair beside the bed, and her vater stood behind her mutter, gazing down at his daughter and enkelin. He seemed pleased.
Though Rainbow Girl wore a huge smile, the dark circles under her slowly drooping eyes spoke of her exhaustion. “Meet meine daughter, Tabitha.”
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful baby girl.”
“Would you like to hold her?”
“Me? Ne. I don’t think that’s a gut idea.”
Leah Bontrager stood and motioned him over. “Sit. It will be all right.”
Eli looked to Andrew Bontrager. When the older man gave him a nod, Eli sat. Rainbow Girl handed over the sleeping bundle. He gazed upon her tiny, scrunched-up face and instantly fell in love with the little one. He would do anything to protect her.
And her mutter.
Rainbow Girl.
Now she had to stay and join church. She just had to. What would he do if she left?
* * *
Dori regarded Eli holding Tabitha in the chair next to the bed. The big, strapping, muscle-bound blacksmith holding a tiny, helpless newborn. She trusted him completely with her daughter. She suddenly realized that she should tell Craig that he had a daughter. But would he even care? The man sitting here next to her cared more for her daughter than the little one’s own vater. “Danki for looking after me and Tabitha.”
“I didn’t do anything. The doctor did everything.”
“You kept us safe and got us here.” She had never felt more secure than with him.
He gave a crooked smile. “Turns out, there wasn’t such a rush to get you here after all. Sorry about all the bumps in the road.”
“Couldn’t be helped. Getting us here gave us both peace of mind.”
He returned his gaze to the bundle in his arms. “She’s perfect.” He spoke like a proud vater.
But Dori knew that could never be.
Dr. Kathleen came to the doorway. “With two new mutters and babies to look after, we’ve made up beds in the big haus. I would like to get both of you over there as soon as possible. Ladies have come and fixed a wunderbar supper. It will be easier to care for you there overnight.”
Dori turned from Eli and her daughter to the doctor. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. I can go home.”
The doctor shook her head. “That’s not a gut idea. You seem fine, but I should keep an eye on your baby at least overnight. Things can develop quickly with these little ones. The beds in the big haus are more comfortable, and I’ll be closer.” She held up her hand. “I’ll hear no further arguments. The Millers are helping Teresa and Micah over there right now.”
Staying at Dr. Kathleen’s haus eased Dori’s concerns. She wasn’t sure how to care for her new baby yet, though Mutter would help.
Dori liked the idea of holding on to Eli for support. He was strong.
He turned Tabitha over to her grossmutter, scooped Dori up into his arms and stood. “Lead the way.”
The doctor laughed.
Dori hooked her arms around his neck. She didn’t mind being in his arms.
The whole parade of them marched toward the big haus.
Once upstairs, Eli deposited her on a big, comfortable bed. Much better than the thin mattress of the Murphy bed.
After a tasty supper of chicken and dumplings, everyone left, except a couple of members of the Miller family, Dori’s mutter and Eli. He decided to stay for a little longer.
She fed Tabitha and stopped resisting her heavy eyelids. It had been a long day.
* * *
Dori woke to a baby crying in the distance and the dawning light drifting in through the open curtains. Where was Tabitha? Dori glanced around. Where was she? This was not the dawdy haus, but the doctor’s home.
Dori’s mutter lay curled on the bed next to her. But where was her baby?
She turned her head to the other side.
Eli sat on the floor with his head leaning against the wall, asleep. Cradled in his crossed legs, Tabitha lay snuggled up and sleeping too. One gigantic hand on the top of her little head, and the other hooked around her blanketed legs. She breathed a sigh of relief. The crying baby was not hers.
Mutter rose up on one elbow and moved a stray strand of hair from Dori’s face. She indicated the sleeping giant and whispered, “He was up walking her during the night. He’ll make a gut vater.”
Was her mutter hinting? Eli would make a gut vater, but he could never be Tabitha’s. He deserved someone better than Dori. A gut Amish wife. A wife who would give him his own children and not those of another man. Worse, an English man.
For now, she would be content to watch the two sleep. Soon enough this tranquil atmosphere would be shattered. First by a baby crying, then by Dori’s leaving.
Chapter Fifteen
Two weeks after Tabitha’s birth, Dori traveled into town with Eli, who had orders he needed to ship. Since her daughter’s arrival, he spent a lot of time at Grossvater’s haus and stopped by every day, even if only for a few minutes. He spent a lot of time with Tabitha. And even more time with Dori. There was always some excuse or other for coming to the haus. She didn’t care what the reason. She enjoyed his company.
Dori’s hair had grown out and looked terrible. She planned to buy hair dye today and make it all one color. She hadn’t decided which one yet. Maybe she would choose pink for the whole thing in honor of having a daughter.
Eli stopped in the drugstore parking lot. “Would you like me to go in with you?”
Dori gazed down at her daughter in her arms. “She’s asleep. I hate to disturb her.”
“I’ll take her.” He set the brake, got out and came around to her side of the vehicle.
“You really want to?”
“Ja.” He held out his arms. It was such a change from two weeks ago, on the day of her birth. He’d been terrified to hold her, but he had quickly gotten over that.
She placed her daughter in the safety of his strong arms. “I won’t be long.” Now he looked comfortable and at ease holding a baby. It warmed Dori’s heart. “Danki.”
Though she didn’t want to part from either of them, she dashed inside the drugstore and surveyed the options. No pink, purple, blue, orange or green. This wasn’t the kind of store to carry such colors.
She wouldn’t be Rainbow Girl much longer. That saddened her. Eli had given her that affectionate name. She didn’t want to lose her fun hair colors. She wanted to be Rainbow Girl. Eli’s Rainbow Girl. But she couldn’t. As long as she remained Rainbow Girl, she could never hope to be Eli’s.
She studied the options and picked up a box that was close to her natural color. That would be something different. If she couldn’t have an unusual color, she might as well go back to her natural one.
Grossvater had been so kind to her, and her vater even started speaking to her again. It would be nice to give something back to all of them, her grossvater, her parents, her family, the whole community. To Eli. She could always color it different colors again later—after she left—but for now, she needed to stay with the Amish. She couldn’t bear to be parted from her little girl.
She purchased the hair color and headed outside to meet up with Eli. He seemed to love little Tabitha, and loved holding her as much as Dori did. He would make someone a gut husband and vater someday. At the thought of him married to someone else, a pang twisted inside her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be around to witness that.
She headed across the parking lot toward the buggy.
“Dori?”
She recognized that voice and spun around. “Craig?” She couldn’t believe, after all these months, she was finally seeing him again.
“I see you’ve had the baby. Or did you...?”
Have an abortion? “I told you, I would never do that. I had the baby. Two weeks ago.”
He took her hands in his. “Great. Then you’re coming home?”
“You want us back?” She’d dreamed of this, but she hadn’t truly expected it. He’d changed his mind after all.
“Just you. Leave the kid with the Amish people.”
Leave her child? How could he ask that? “If you could just—”
“Don’t say it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to know.” He squeezed her hands. “It hasn’t been right without you. I’ve missed you so much. I haven’t eaten well. I don’t sleep. I feel lost without you.”
Part of her wanted to fall into his arms and leave everything else behind. When she thought of only him, she imagined she could. “If you missed me so much, why didn’t you come for me?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t know how to find you.”
Didn’t know how? “You could have asked any Amish person where the Bontragers lived, and they could have told you.”
He scrunched up his face. “I don’t want to talk to those people.”
She couldn’t believe him and pulled her hands free. “I’m one of those people.”
He held out his hands. “But you’re different.”
“Not that different.” Not as different as she’d thought.
“Wearing their clothes doesn’t make you Amish. Even with your hair pulled back and under that funny hat, I can tell you still have it all different colors. That’s how I could tell it was you. It lets me know you aren’t one of them.”
She had taken to wearing the more comfortable cape dresses since her experience in the ditch, and since Tabitha’s birth, putting her hair up in a kapp was easier. The weight of the hair color in her bag grounded her in this moment. She wouldn’t have rainbow hair much longer.
“Stop hiding with those people and come home. Dori, I love you. I don’t want to live without you.”
He was right. She had been hiding with the Amish, but no more. “But you don’t want our child?”
“How can I? I don’t even know it.”
It? Anger boiled inside her. “Our child is not an it. Do you even want to know if you have a son or a daughter?”
He held his hands out to his sides. “I can’t afford to. I don’t have a child. I don’t make enough to support three people right now. Later, when we can buy a house, then we can have a kid.”
“What about the one we already have? Do we somehow forget that one?” She couldn’t.
“Obviously, you can’t do that. We can leave it with your Amish relatives, and when we get a house, we’ll go and get it.”
It? He acted like their daughter was a piece of furniture. “And how long would that be?”
“Two, maybe three years. Five tops. It will walk and talk by then, and no diapers.” He gave a triumphant smile.
“You expect me to give up my child for five years?” Five days would be a challenge.
“You make it sound like we’d be leaving it on the side of the road. The Amish people would take care of it.”
“It, it, it. Our— My child is not an it. Auf Wiedersehen.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Gut bye.” She turned to leave.
“Can’t we at least talk about this?”
She faced him again. “Unless there is any chance of you changing your mind, there’s no point, because I’m not changing mine.”
He took her hands again. “Why do you have to be so rigid? I’m sure we can come to some sort of compromise.”
Compromise? That gave her hope. Was he really willing to compromise?
* * *
In the shade of a tree, Eli cradled Tabitha in his arms. The man talking to Rainbow Girl must be her old boyfriend, Tabitha’s vater. He’d seen the joy on Rainbow Girl’s face when she first saw the man, and he’d taken her hands in his. And now she wore a smile of what looked like contentment.
She’d said Tabitha’s vater didn’t want her. Did he want her now? Eli didn’t want to give the little bundle up. She’d climbed into his heart from her first breath in this world. Before that, when her mutter had stolen his heart.
Would Rainbow Girl leave? He didn’t know how he would go on if she did. And she would take his Tabitha with her. He didn’t want to lose this little one. Or her mutter.
Rainbow Girl strode away from the man and marched up to Eli. She stretched out her arms and spoke in English instead of Deutsch. “Give me my daughter.”
Why? Was she going to leave with that man right now? He pulled his Rainbow Baby closer and spoke softly in Deutsch. “I’ll hold her.” He walked off toward the buggy.
She trotted to catch up. “Seriously? You’re not going to give her to me.”
She seemed too upset to hold one so helpless. “I don’t mind holding her.”