“Mind?” Leah’s face lit up the dim room. “Oh, denki for thinking of that, Jude! Betsy’s only been here a few hours, but I already understand why mothers with wee babies and children can’t possibly have enough hands—or hours in the day.”
* * *
After Lenore parked her buggy in the lane on Sunday afternoon, she walked toward the Shetler home with a twinge of apprehension, but her eager anticipation of spending time with Leah propelled her to the door. Neither the church in Cedar Creek nor the one in Morning Star had a worship service today, so this visiting Sunday was the perfect time to begin her stay with Leah’s new family. She hoped she could bring harmony and healing to a household she sensed was in chaos after the startling details Jude had shared with her over the phone on Friday.
Lenore was pleased to see that the porch was swept and that the house had been painted recently. The lawn was well maintained, too, and the outbuildings were in good repair—signs that Jude was prosperous and was taking good care of his family. Often during the past few months she’d wished for an invitation to come to her daughter’s home, yet she suspected Leah had been too busy—or too overwhelmed—keeping up with Jude’s teenage twins and little Stevie to ask her over.
I could’ve come here any time and I would’ve been welcome, Lenore reminded herself. But I didn’t want to interfere while Leah settled in as a new wife and stepmother . . . even though she sounded as if she were keeping her troubles to herself whenever we talked on the phone.
The front door opened and Stevie stepped out onto the porch. He gazed at her shyly at first as Leah joined him.
“Mama, it’s so gut to see you!” Leah blurted out as she hurried across the porch. “And it’s so nice of you to come help us with baby Betsy, too.”
Leah’s embrace dispelled Lenore’s doubts about coming and restored her lonely soul. “How could I stay away when Jude told me you suddenly had an abandoned baby to care for?” she teased as she returned her daughter’s hug. “That sort of thing doesn’t happen every day, thank the Lord.”
“Jah, we don’t know who Betsy’s mamm is, so we’re her family now,” Stevie piped up from the porch. “We got baby goats and ducklings, too! Wanna see ’em?”
Lenore released Leah to focus on the young boy. He still regarded her cautiously, but he’d become much more confident since the wedding, when he’d spent the day clinging to Margaret. “Baby goats and ducklings?” she repeated eagerly. “I’d love to see them sometime, Stevie, because I sort of miss having those animals at my house. Right now, though, I could use some help carrying boxes and bags—and then you can park my rig for me and tend my mare, Flo.”
With a little whoop, Stevie sprang from the porch and shot toward her buggy. Lenore chuckled. “Stevie’s come a long way,” she remarked as she and Leah followed him. “I hope Alice and Adeline are as eager to please as he is?”
Leah let out a humorless laugh. “You warned me, Mama,” she said sadly. “Jude and I are pulling out our hair over the twins’ escapades. They’re home today—but only because he took the back wheels off their buggy.”
Lenore’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my. So the rumors about them running with English boys are true?”
“Jah, not that we have any idea who those boys are.” Leah stopped a few yards from where Stevie was taking a plastic bin from the rig. Her eyes took on a sad desperation as she shook her head. “They despise me, Mama. But you’re here now, so let’s not waste a minute churning sour butter. Plenty of time for details about the girls on a day when they’re not home—although Jude has grounded them indefinitely.”
Lenore sighed with regret. See there? You should’ve been coming for visits all along, knowing Leah would be too proud—or stubborn—to admit all the trouble she’s been dealing with.
“Gut heavens, Mama! Your rig’s chock-full of boxes and bins,” Leah exclaimed when she peered inside it. “What all did you bring?”
“I think she’s stayin’ a long time!” Stevie said as he headed toward the house with a bin of fabric. “I saw two suitcases and a whole lotta other stuff!”
Lenore laughed, gratified by the boy’s excitement. “Well, I had more jars of peaches and vegetables than I can possibly eat this season—and I figured I’d make myself useful by sewing some clothes for the baby, as well as for you and Jude and the kids,” she replied. “So I brought fabric and—”
“Oh, Mama.” Leah’s embrace was tighter this time, and she was breathing shallowly . . . as though she was trying not to cry. “Denki so much for thinking of us all. I’m so sorry I didn’t invite you here sooner, but—but I didn’t want you to know just how awful things have been with the girls. There. I’ve said it.”
Lenore wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter and rocked her gently, as she’d done when Leah was growing up. Her daughter might have grown into an adult body, but inside she was still vulnerable and sensitive and just enough like her dat that she would never ask for help. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a tough time of it, Leah,” she murmured. “I’m here to help in whatever ways you need me to, sweetheart.”
Leah eased out of Lenore’s arms to flick away tears with her thumb. “Unfortunately, Margaret doesn’t share your helpful attitude—nor does she believe Adeline and Alice would sneak out of the house or get matching tattoos, amongst other things. But those are stories for another day,” she added as she reached into the rig for a sturdy cardboard box filled with jars of food.
Tattoos? On Amish girls? Once again Lenore couldn’t imagine what Leah and Jude had been going through, and she felt even more determined to make her time here count for something positive and productive. This visit would be a gift only she could give to the daughter she’d missed so badly the past three months.
When Lenore followed Leah to the back door and into the kitchen, she immediately noticed the empty baby bottles drying in the sink drainer, along with the deep pot used to sterilize them on the stove. A plate of cookies on the counter caught her eye, too. “Those snickerdoodles look heavenly,” she said as she set her suitcases on the floor. “I confess that I haven’t baked cookies since you left home, Leah, because it would take me forever to eat a whole batch.”
“I could help ya eat ’em!” Stevie blurted as he grabbed two of the cookies from the plate. He smiled mischievously at her. “I like Alice’s snickerdoodles, but peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips are my favorite—in case you’re wonderin’.”
Lenore laughed out loud, delighted by Stevie’s way with words. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “After all, baking cookies is one of the things a mammi does best, ain’t so?”
Stevie’s hand stopped halfway to his mouth, his cookie suspended as he considered what she’d said. “Jah, if you’re Leah’s mamm—and she’s my mamm now—that makes you my mammi,” he reasoned softly. “That’s gut to know.”
Lenore’s heart stood still. For years she’d dreamed of spoiling grandchildren, while wondering if Leah would ever marry. The way Stevie gazed at her with his eager blue eyes, wrapping her in his wondrous, innocent love, suddenly made her feel like the most special woman in the world. “You have your mammi Margaret, too,” she pointed out.
“Jah, but she doesn’t wanna live with us no more—and Mammi Lovina moved away to Ohio, wherever that is,” Stevie said wistfully.
“She and your Dawdi Cletus went east to live with their son after your mamm passed,” Leah clarified gently.
“Oh. Jah, that’s how it was.” Stevie’s face lit up with boyish joy as he looked at Lenore again. “So, see there? We had an opening for another mammi, and here you are. I’m gonna see what other stuff’s in your rig!”
Lenore’s hand fluttered to her heart as she watched him run outside. “My word, who would ever have thought that little boy would be so—”
“Amazing? Lovable?” Leah asked with a little laugh. “He’s been a real bright spot, and he’s so devoted to Betsy. Come in and see her before she wakes up crying for her bottle.”
&nbs
p; As Lenore entered the comfortably furnished front room, she smiled at a white wicker crib near the picture window. The sight of Jude napping in his recliner with a tiny baby sleeping on his shoulder tugged at her heartstrings. “The poor man looks exhausted,” she said quietly. “I hope Betsy hasn’t been keeping you both awake since she arrived.”
“He’s lost a lot of sleep over Adeline and Alice lately,” Leah whispered with a shake of her head. “After another lecture at the dinner table today, he sent them upstairs. He . . . he took to Betsy the first moment he saw her. She’s such a blessing to us.”
Lenore nodded. She’d always liked Jude, and his unconditional acceptance of other men’s children made him even more admirable, in her opinion. She walked carefully toward the pair, hoping not to waken them. “Ohh,” she cooed as she leaned over to look at the baby. “What a precious little face—like a doll’s, so pretty and pink.”
Jude opened one eye. “That surely can’t be my face you’re talking about,” he whispered. “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in, Lenore. If you’ll take Betsy, I’ll go unload your rig.”
Lenore gladly cradled the little baby in her arms, delighting in Betsy’s tiny fingers and bow-shaped mouth—and her shining eyes when she opened them. “You know, babies this young all tend to look somewhat alike,” she remarked softly as she began to sway from side to side, “but Betsy reminds me a lot of you when you were this age, Leah. Your hair was this shade of brown, and you had such a thin little face.”
Her daughter looked startled. “I—I never thought about her resembling any of us, Mama. My face probably changed week by week when I was a baby.”
“That’s true of tiny faces,” Jude put in as he rose from the recliner. “But I’ve noticed a few similarities between Betsy’s face and yours, as well—and I’ve gazed at both of them enough to know, jah?” he added, gently touching Leah’s cheek.
Lenore smiled, relishing the rise of color in her daughter’s complexion. She was pleased that Jude and Leah still appeared to be crazy for each other despite the trouble Alice and Adeline were giving them. As Jude left to unload her buggy, she and Leah returned to the kitchen, where Leah took a metal canister from the refrigerator.
“It’s a gut thing you’ve got goat’s milk to feed this wee one,” she said. “So much easier on her tummy than store-bought formula. And you can’t beat the price.”
Leah smiled as she poured milk into one of the clean bottles from the drainer. “Stevie’s new mission is learning how to milk the goats, so he can help with feeding her. I let him practice on Tulip, because she’s the most patient.”
As she imagined the boy seated beside Leah’s goats, Lenore chuckled. “I suspect he’s an enthusiastic milker—maybe more eager than your goats would prefer.”
Leah laughed. “Stevie’s enthusiastic about most things, bless him—and that’s such an improvement over his earlier sadness,” she added. A creak in the floor above them made her glance upward. “We keep asking God for an attitude adjustment to transform the twins, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon. Incorrigible, they are.”
“God answers our prayers in His own gut time, and often in ways we don’t expect,” Lenore said, gazing from the baby to her daughter. “Before the girls come downstairs, tell me what I can do that’ll be the biggest help to you, Leah. If you’ve given Adeline and Alice certain duties, I don’t want to interfere—or let them off the hook, if they’re to be responsible for, say, the laundry or the cleaning.”
“Will you cook for us?” Leah replied plaintively. “I really miss your breakfast casseroles and your meat loaf and chicken spaghetti, and your soft bread and cinnamon rolls and—well, it’s high time I learned to cook the way you do, Mama. The twins can put food on the table, but their hearts aren’t in it.”
Lenore smiled wistfully. “I would love to cook for your family, Leah. I confess that all too often these days, I resort to a bowl of cereal or eating fruit straight from the jar, because making a regular meal for just myself seems like such a bother.” She smiled at little Betsy, who was wide awake now and starting to fuss for her bottle. “You have a higher priority than cooking now, so I’ll be happy to take over the meal prep.”
“Wow, that’s gut news!” one of the twins remarked as she entered the kitchen.
“Jah, making food has never really been our cup of tea,” her sister said, reaching for a snickerdoodle. “Baking cookies is fun, but fixing a meal is such a chore.”
Lenore turned to greet Alice and Adeline, who wore matching cape dresses of deep rose—with bodices so snug as to appear a size too small. “Hello, girls, it’s gut to see you again,” she began, carefully considering her response. She’d raised a daughter who hadn’t liked to cook—but Leah had never seemed so eager to get out of working. Nor had she worn such immodest clothing.
Don’t forget that these girls lost the woman who probably sewed for them . . . the woman who loved them as only a mother could.
When Jude came through the back door carrying two large, stacked plastic bins, Lenore was grateful for his timing. “Here’s some of the fabric I brought along, thinking we could make everyone some new clothes,” she said, gesturing for Jude to set the bins on the kitchen table. “Why not pick out the colors you like best, and we can start sewing tomorrow?”
“Fine idea,” Jude said with a knowing nod at Lenore. “I suspect there’s fabric in the closet of the middle bedroom where the sewing machine is, too, because Frieda made a trip to the Cedar Creek Mercantile a few days before she passed.”
Lenore blinked. The twins’ stricken expressions told her that this mention of their mother’s death had caught them by surprise, as grief often did. “That means we’ll have plenty to choose from,” she said, smiling at Alice and Adeline. “With the three of us working at it, we should be able to whip up dresses and shirts for all of you—as well as diapers and clothes for Betsy.”
The twins exchanged a doubtful glance. “The three of us?” one of them asked as she lifted the lid from a bin.
“I take it Leah won’t be sewing?” the other sister remarked archly.
Lenore bit back a retort as she handed Betsy to her daughter. “As you can see, Leah’s got her hands full, caring for—”
“Well, Alice, at least we’ve got some cool colors to choose from,” Adeline said as she held up a large roll of magenta fabric. “Can’t you see us wearing crop tops and capris made from this?”
Alice laughed and lifted other rolls of fabric from the bin. “And sleeveless minidresses made from this tangerine piece—with the kitten heels we saw in the shoe store last week!”
Crop tops and capris? Kitten heels? Lenore had no idea what the twins were talking about—except she was certain no Plain woman would be seen wearing the items the girls had mentioned. I guess I’ll be glad they at least like the colors I’ve chosen and go from there. Give me patience, Lord. I’m going to need a wagonload of it.
Chapter 12
“I smell coffee,” Jude said as he held Leah close beneath the covers.
“Maybe we’ve died and gone to heaven, because I smell cinnamon rolls,” Leah teased. She squinted at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s barely four-thirty. Mama and I made the roll dough last night and put it in the fridge. I insisted we could scramble eggs—cook something easy her first morning here—but bless her, she’s gotten up early enough to bake those rolls for our breakfast.”
“Maybe she had trouble sleeping in a strange place.”
Leah bussed Jude’s cheek and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “The least I can do is go downstairs and help her—and make sure she’s all right. After Dat passed, she took to sleeping in while I went out to tend the animals. I love having her here pampering us, but not at the expense of her getting enough rest.”
“You go ahead. I’ll see to Betsy,” Jude whispered.
Leah smiled as she reached for the dress she’d draped over the back of the rocking chair the previous evening. With her mother in the kitchen
filling the house with the aromas of her cooking, and Jude being so considerate about caring for Betsy, life felt really good again—even if having a baby around required a new kind of patience. From years of practice, Leah dressed quickly in the darkness and wound her hair into a fat bun at the nape of her neck. When she’d determined that Betsy was still sleeping soundly in the bassinet, she slipped into the hallway with her shoes in her hand.
Leah padded downstairs and into the kitchen, cherishing the sight of her mother in the lamplight. “Mama, gut morning! When I asked you to cook for us, I didn’t mean you had to start in the wee hours,” she said lightly. “I hope you slept well?”
Mama opened the oven door and removed two pans of high, puffy cinnamon rolls. She appeared troubled, and didn’t reply until she’d set the pans on trivets to cool. “I slept fine until I heard activity in the twins’ room—and the rumble of a big truck that pulled in from the road. It’s a wonder they don’t fall to their death climbing down that tree in the dark.”
Leah sighed. The room she shared with Jude was on the opposite side of the house from the girls’ room, and she was so tired by evening that she slept too soundly to notice them slipping out. “So much for them obeying their dat’s order to stay at home,” she said as she slipped an arm around her mother. “I’m sorry they woke you. Oh my, but your cinnamon rolls smell gut.”
“You can stir up the frosting for them,” Mama instructed, pointing toward a slip of paper fixed to the refrigerator with a magnet. “I jotted the recipe for you. I wish it were as easy to write you a solution to Alice and Adeline’s dangerous behavior. Amish girls have been slipping out with their beaux since before I was born, but . . . well, it doesn’t feel as worrisome when girls meet boys who’re driving buggies rather than big, fancy trucks.”
Leah smiled at her mother’s sentiment. Plain boys have the same urges as English ones, she mused as she took milk and butter from the refrigerator to make the frosting. But she would feel better if Adeline and Alice were dating Amish boys, because Plain fellows were more likely to share the same values and sense of responsibility Jude’s girls had been raised with. Not that the twins’ values are shining through their current behavior.
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