“You are forgetting one thing. Mary’s mother, my cousin Miriam, is the wife of the sheriff. I can’t tell them who I am. He will enforce the Englisch law that says I’m an unfit mother and give my daughters to Glen’s parents.”
“You can’t know that. Nick has great respect for our Amish ways.”
“He isn’t Amish, and neither is my cousin now. I can’t trust that they will help me.” Her voice caught in her throat.
“What will you do now? Will you go back to your grandfather?”
“I can’t unless I know it is safe. The private detective employed by Glen’s parents is an expert at tracking people down. According to what the sheriff told you, he has already discovered that I left the city by bus. He may have discovered where my grandfather lives and that I went to see him.”
She had tried not to draw attention, but people noticed her daughters because they were twins. Their white-blond hair and vivid blue eyes made them memorable. She had tried keeping their heads covered with knit caps whenever they went out, but Megan was forever pulling hers off. The ticket agent at the bus station must have remembered them. The woman had commented that she had twin granddaughters about the same age.
Willa had seen the detective only once. Glen had spotted him loitering near their apartment building and pointed him out. She’d seen a small nondescript man with dark glasses, not the monster Glen told her was after them.
Glen had been furious because he had landed a good paying job at the local racetrack only two weeks before. They hadn’t been able to return to the apartment until well after dark. They’d crept in, packed up their things and left that night. Glen died a month later. She had moved twice after his death, but it became much more difficult without him.
John scuffed one boot back and forth on the porch floor. “Nick told me that your trail disappeared where you got off the bus. I could ask him what more they know about you.”
She shook her head. “It would only make him wonder why you’re curious.”
“I will finish the sleigh for Melvin Taylor before long. I could speak to your grandfather after I deliver it.”
Willa sat up straight. “Would you? When will you go? It has to be soon. My baby will be here shortly after the New Year. I have to have a home for my children before then.”
“I can have the sleigh finished in a little over a week. I will hire a truck to haul it next Wednesday and bring me back the same day.”
She laced her fingers together. “John, that would be wonderful. I pray he has changed his mind and will shelter us.”
“You must remain with us until I speak to your grandfather and return with his decision.”
“It seems I have no choice. I’m sorry to impose on your kindness. I hope you know I’m grateful. Please let Grandfather know about Ada’s death, too. They were estranged, but she was his sister.”
John cleared his throat. “There is something else to consider.”
“What’s that?”
“You could stay in Bowmans Crossing permanently and make your home here. You already have friends in our community, for I consider myself your friend and so does my mother. God went to a lot of trouble to bring you to us. If your being here is His will, perhaps you should accept it.”
John had no idea how tempting his suggestion was. To live in this community, among friendly and caring people, it was everything she had dreamed of finding for herself and her daughters.
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The one problem with the plan was that she had to confide in someone about her condition. As much as she wanted to tell John the whole truth, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal what she had done in the past. She glanced at him. He wouldn’t understand and she couldn’t bear to see the revulsion on his dear face if he learned how she had tried to harm her babies.
“What do you think of that idea?” John asked.
She read the hope in his eyes and turned away. “It’s a temping thought, but I want my children to be with family this first Christmas without Glen.”
“Of course.”
She heard the disappointment in his tone. It mirrored her regrets. If only there was a way for her to stay.
Maybe she didn’t have to reveal those details. Maybe it would be enough to tell him she had been ill after the twins were born and that she could become ill again and might have to go away for a while. Would he accept that? She knew without a doubt that he and Vera would take care of the girls.
The midwife would have to know. Willa was prepared to share her history with a medical caregiver. The psychosis had come on with no warning last time. Someone needed to be ready to step in if it happened again. The midwife might even know of a place Willa could stay after the baby came if the worse happened.
Since the Amish didn’t use insurance, Willa wouldn’t have to provide proof of her identity if she had to be hospitalized again. The hospital would take the word of a midwife and treat the Amish woman Willa Lapp. The church would cover any medical bills she couldn’t pay.
Then she remembered there would have to be a birth certificate filled out for her child. She would have to list the father’s name or say he was unknown. To deny Glen was the father of her baby was unthinkable. How could she do that to his memory? How could she do that to her son or her daughter? Yet the detective might know about her pregnancy. Were birth records public records? Could he find the name she was using and the area she lived in by searching them? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t even sure whom she could ask. Perhaps the midwife would know.
Willa rose to her feet and crossed the porch to lean on the railing beside John. Maybe he was right and this was God’s will. Her detour to Bowmans Crossing may have been a blessing in disguise. She wasn’t sure that the detective knew about her Amish upbringing, but in the event that he did track her as far as her grandfather’s home, the trail would end there.
Her grandfather wouldn’t offer information to an outsider, but he wouldn’t lie for her. The detective might learn from her grandfather that Willa Chase had gone to Hope Springs, but Willa Chase had never arrived at her great-aunt’s home. Ada Kaufman was gone now. Only her daughter, Miriam, knew Willa. If questioned, Miriam would say she hadn’t seen or heard from her cousin. The detective would believe her because it was the truth and because Miriam was married to the sheriff.
Willa was afraid to give voice to the hope that she might be free at last. “If my grandfather won’t take us in, I’ll consider staying.”
John took her gently by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “As a friend I only want what is best for you and for your children.”
“To have your friendship means a great deal to me, John. I cherish that gift, and I hope you know that you have my friendship, too.” He was dearer to her than a friend, but she couldn’t let it become anything more.
He smiled and gently covered her hand with his own. “Friendship is a gift meant to last a lifetime. For my lifetime, you shall have it.”
He nodded toward the door. “Let’s go tell my mother you are staying until I can return from delivering the sleigh. She’s going to be thrilled. She might even tell me where she hid the carriage bolts.”
Willa chuckled; thankful he could change the subject so easily. “I’m still not convinced she took them. I wouldn’t know which ones to remove.”
“She was married to a blacksmith for forty-seven years. She knows exactly which ones to take out and which ones to leave. She could probably make them for you.”
“Now you are exaggerating.”
“Actually, I’m not. She made all the cabinet pulls in the house because she didn’t like the ones Daed made for her. Are you feeling better?”
“Much better, danki.”
“Don’t tell Mamm that until after you have had some of her special chicken and noodle soup. She thinks it can cure anything.”
Willa smiled, but she knew chicken soup wasn’t going to mend the ache in her heart. She cared deeply for John, but she could never allow herself to love him or any other man.
Chapter Eleven
Vera’s eyes sparkled when she heard the news from Willa. “This is wunderbar. I have so much to do before Christmas and now I will have you to help me.”
“Only for another week or so,” Willa cautioned her.
“If that is Gott’s will. I must ready my Christmas cards to send and I need to get this house clean before my daughter and her family arrive. I’m not sure I have enough time even with your help, Willa.”
John shook his head. “Christmas is a month away.”
“You are right. I don’t have a moment to waste. Where did I put the cards I got last year? I don’t want to overlook anyone. My poor fingers ache at the thought of all those notes I must write.”
Willa smiled indulgently at John’s mother. “Perhaps I can assist you with that.”
“You are a sweet child. I appreciate any help you can give this old woman. Gott will reward you for your kindness. I think I left the cards in a shoebox under my bed.” She went off to search for them, leaving Willa and John alone in the kitchen.
“I knew she would be happy about it,” he said.
“Her attitude makes me feel less like an intruder in the family.”
“Never feel like that. There are many things you can do that will make her life easier. I have been thinking about hiring a girl to help her. Are you interested in the job?”
“Perhaps for my room and board, but not for a salary.”
“I think a salary might be cheaper than feeding you. I’ve seen how much you can eat.”
She was happy that he could tease her. She wanted to remain friends. “That reminds me, I’m hungry, Johnjohn. Where is that ham you promised me?”
“I can see I’ll have to slaughter another hog before the New Year.”
“That would be wonderful, but what about right now?”
He tipped his head to the side. “Do you really want some ham? I can go down and bring it up.”
She laughed. “No, I want pickles and peaches.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very. Never make fun of a pregnant woman’s cravings. I could want fresh bananas. How long would it take you to fetch some of those?”
“The local market isn’t open on Sundays. You would be out of luck until tomorrow. That is if they had any fresh produce delivered in the snowstorm.”
“Aren’t you glad I only want canned peaches?”
“Good thing I brought up a half dozen jars of them yesterday. How many are left?”
“One.”
His mouth dropped open. “You ate five quart jars of peaches?”
“Don’t be silly. Your mother made two peach cobblers to take to church this morning. I’ve only had two jars.”
“That’s a relief. I was afraid I’d have to put a lock on the cellar door.”
“You know we Amish believe in sharing everything.”
Vera came back into the room with a shoebox in her hand. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to yourself as Amish. Are you ready to commit wholeheartedly to the faith?”
Was she? Could she take her vows with a pure and sincere heart?
“It can’t be about hiding, Willa,” John cautioned.
“Pray about it before you decide and let Gott guide you,” Vera said, setting the box on the table.
“Either way, you will be welcome to remain with us,” John said.
“I think I would like to speak to the bishop as soon as possible.” Baptism was a serious undertaking, and she didn’t want to enter into it lightly. From having listened to his sermon, Willa was hopeful that Bishop Beachy would prove to be a wise spiritual advisor.
“And the midwife,” Vera said, taking a slip of paper from her pocket. “I took the liberty of obtaining her phone number for you. Our phone hut is a few hundred yards south of our lane. John can show you.”
Willa inclined her head and took the paper. “I will visit the midwife here if I can’t return to my grandfather’s home, but I would rather wait until I know something for certain. I will write to Bishop Beachy tomorrow and ask him to see me. Will you be able to watch the girls for me if he can? I want my grandfather to know I’m seeking baptism.”
“I would love to have them to myself,” Vera said. “They can help me make Christmas cards.”
Willa looked at John. “May I borrow your buggy?”
He leaned close to his mother. “She wouldn’t have to use ours if her own could be fixed.”
His mother lifted the lid off her shoebox. Four long metal grease-covered bolts lay on top of a sheet of newspaper. “Will you look at this? How do you suppose these got under my bed?”
Willa pressed a hand to her lips to hold back a laugh.
John plucked the bolts out of the box. “Someone who should confess her deception to the bishop put them there. You may take your own horse and buggy wherever and whenever you wish, Willa. I’ll have it fixed first thing in the morning. I’ll add a slow-moving-vehicle sign on the back as well as reflectors, turn signals and lights while I’m at it.”
As he went out the door, Willa clasped her hands together and tried to look stern. “Vera, how could you do such a thing?”
The elderly woman gave her a smug smile. “It’s quite easy if one has the right tools.”
* * *
Over the next few days, Willa and the girls fell into an increasingly comfortable routine. They had breakfast with John and Vera. After John went out to work in the smithy, Willa and the girls helped Vera with the household chores. If the weather was nice, Willa let the twins play outside. Every hour that went by without the return of the sheriff allowed Willa to relax a little more. Often Vera would teach them new Amish words as they helped her with her cleaning or cooking. In the evenings after supper, John would read aloud from his Bible. The girls enjoyed climbing onto his lap and helping turn the pages. Willa caught him staring at her one evening and smiled at him. He looked away quickly as a dull blush crept up his neck. He was such a kind and gentle man. His easy way with her daughters endeared him to Willa as little else could do.
The following afternoon, the girls came running into the kitchen and grabbed Willa’s hands. “Come play hide-and-seek, Mama,” they said together.
It was their favorite game: a game with a purpose Willa hoped would someday be a part of the past. She was tired of running and hiding. “All right, we’ll play.”
“Can Mammi Miller play, too?” Lucy asked.
Willa looked at Vera. “What about it?”
“I thought you would never ask.” She put her hands over her eyes and started counting.
* * *
John was in his smithy making a list of things he needed to finish Melvin’s sleigh when the outside door opened. He looked up to see Willa come in. “What are you doing out here?”
She quickly closed the door behind her and grinned at him. “I’m hiding.”
He chuckled. “Hiding from your girls?”
“From your mother.”
“What is she up to now?”
“We’re playing hide-and-seek with the girls. Your mother is very good. She has found me four times already.”
“I didn’t know she possessed such skill.”
Willa crossed to the window to look out. “Neither did I or I wouldn’t have invited her to join the game. Here she comes. Where can I hide?”
He moved his chair aside. “Quick, get under my desk if you can.”
“I may be pregnant, but I’m still flexible.” She dropped to her knees and crawled under it. He sat down and picked up his pen.
The outside door opened
and his mother charged in. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
He kept his head down, knowing he would burst out laughing if he looked his mother in the eyes. “Have you lost one of the twins?”
“I haven’t lost anyone. I know Willa is in here.” She moved around the room, looking into the corners and behind the forge. “Where is she?”
He turned in his chair to face her. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
His mother arched one eyebrow and leaned to the side to peek under his desk. “Like that, is it? Very well, she may win this round, but I’ll win the game.”
Chuckling, she left the smithy closing the door softly behind her. John held out his hand and helped Willa climb out from under the desk. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling as she stood. John didn’t release her hand. Instead, he pulled her closer, driven by the need to kiss her. He stopped himself just in time. This wasn’t the way a friend behaved.
Her smile vanished and her eyes widened as she gazed up at him. John stepped away from her quickly. “You can make it home safely now.”
“Danki. You are always coming to my rescue.” She sounded breathless.
“That’s what friends are for.”
“I’m grateful, my dear friend.” She pulled her hand free, slipped around him and was out the door before he could think of anything else to say.
* * *
John kept busy over the next few days, working long hours on the sleigh for Melvin. Work in the smithy also kept him away from Willa except at mealtimes and in the evenings when the girls and his mother were present. Willa saw him as a friend, and he was determined to be that friend without asking for more. The problem was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to settle for friendship. His feelings for Willa were growing stronger every day. It was foolish of him, knowing she could be gone in a few days.
He hammered home the brass tacks that lined the edge of the red velvet seat. It was the last thing he had to finish before he left in the morning.
For a long time he’d been unable to come to grips with losing Katie and their child. The arrival of Willa and her daughters had helped him do that. They had opened his heart to new relationships. If only a relationship other than friendship was possible with Willa. He wanted to ask her if there was a chance for something more, but in his heart he knew it was too soon.
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