Amish Romance: Annie's Story: Three Book Box Set

by Brenda Maxfield

  “I haven’t agreed to anything!”

  At her words, she heard his breath jag as if in relief. She stared at him. Didn’t he want to raise a baby? Didn’t he want to help her family? Didn’t he… But she couldn’t continue her internal questioning. She could hardly wrap her mind around it herself.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

  Amos leaned toward her and grabbed both her shoulders. Then he stood and paced around the kitchen before coming back to sit again. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. None of this was your doing. All of us need time to pray and think.”

  Annie’s tears started again. “Amos, I feel so bad for Sarah.”

  The muscles around Amos’s mouth tightened. Annie could tell he was angry. At Sarah? She wasn’t sure.

  “And the boy?” he asked.

  “Eric.”

  “Of course. Eric.”

  “She loves him.”

  Amos let go of her and crossed his arms. “Love?” He nearly spit the word.

  “Sarah wouldn’t have … she wouldn’t do … Jah, she loves him.”

  “Great lot of good that will do her now.” His harsh tone surprised Annie. He looked at her. “So, she’s with child, and you’re not.”

  Annie sucked in her breath.

  “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t seem right, does it?” Again, Amos got to his feet and started pacing the room.

  “It doesn’t seem right,” she repeated. As she watched her husband, she realized that she hadn’t understood the depth of his pain because of her empty womb. She hadn’t known how he’d suffered. He was always the one to comfort her, to give her hope, but now, watching him, she knew he had put that on to comfort her.

  She stood and went to him, stopping his pacing. She put her arms around him and held him close. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m sorry I haven’t given you a child.”

  He bent his head to hers and touched her forehead with his. “Nee. Don’t be sorry.”

  “But I am,” she said.

  They stood there for a long moment, the only sounds the low muffled talking from the front room and the steady ticking of the clock above the sink.

  “But this is about Sarah,” Amos finally said, drawing back. “This isn’t about us. We must do what’s best for her.”

  “Dat won’t want anyone to know,” Annie said.

  “Nee. He won’t.” Amos stood tall and grasped her hand. He let out his breath in a loud sigh. “So your Dat wants us to raise it.”

  She nodded, watching every inch of his face. He clenched his jaw and stared at the wall over her head. “Without even asking us.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “He’s not thinking clearly.”

  “Nee.”

  Annie held her breath. Her chest swelled with a mixture of hope and anguish. This was not the way she’d planned to have a child. No. Not like this. Never like this. But maybe … if Amos would agree…

  Amos looked at her. She looked back without blinking, and she knew he was reading her. He was seeing inside to her very heart.

  “You want to do this.” He didn’t ask, he simply stated the fact.

  “I would do it,” she said, tempering the stirrings of excitement.

  “You would do it?” he repeated in a murmur. “Nee, that’s not what I said. I said you want to do this. You want it.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded.

  He stepped away and turned to the window. For a long minute he stared outside. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. But she prayed. With all her might, she prayed.

  He turned back to her. “Let’s go in and talk with your family,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s see what your father has to say.”

  She grasped his hand and blinked back her tears. Together, they walked into the front room.

  Chapter Five

  Mamm was on the davenport beside Sarah, and Dat was seated across from them on a rocker. Annie was relieved to see that they appeared to have calmed down. Dat looked up when they entered, and his eyes went immediately to Amos.

  Amos put his hand on the small of Annie’s back and led her to the couch next to the warming stove. Annie looked at Sarah, and their eyes locked. Sarah’s gaze was hard and pointed and Annie felt her sister’s anger; although, she didn’t know why she would be mad at her. Annie hadn’t done anything, nor had it been her idea to claim Sarah’s baby as her own.

  “They’re not stupid,” Sarah said, raising her head from Mamm’s shoulder.

  “Who? Who are you talking about? Annie and Amos?” Dat questioned.

  “Nee. The people. They’re not stupid.” Sarah stood and wobbled for a minute before straightening her shoulders and looking from Dat to Mamm. “You can try to keep this quiet. But they’re not stupid. If Annie and I disappear for months and then we come back with a baby, supposedly Annie’s, what do you think people will say?”

  Her voice was low and strangely calm. Dat shifted in his chair.

  “We’re trying to protect you,” he said. “Ain’t nobody’s business but ours.”

  “And Eric’s,” she corrected.

  Dat’s face hardened and his cheeks went red, but he remained quiet.

  Mamm reached over and grabbed Sarah’s hand. “We’ll do what’s best for you, daughter.”

  “Which includes me giving my baby to Annie. I mean, giving mine and Eric’s baby to Annie.”

  Annie watched Sarah, having no idea what she should say. Should she reassure Sarah that she’d take good care of the child, that she would love the child as her own? Because the longer Annie sat with the idea, the more it appealed to her. Was this God’s way of answering her prayer? Had he been listening to her over these long months after all?

  Amos cleared his throat. “If that’s what’s been decided, Annie and I will care for your boppli,” he said.

  Sarah’s eyes focused on Amos. “Did you hear yourself? My boppli.”

  Annie was stunned that Sarah wasn’t still shouting. What had gotten into her to remain so calm when moments before she was yelling and screaming?

  “I don’t feel well,” Sarah muttered, holding her stomach. “I want to lie down.”

  Mamm jumped to her feet. “Jah, Sarah. Go on up and lie down.”

  “I’ll go with her and settle her in,” Annie offered, also rising to her feet.

  She could see Mamm about to protest, but she changed her mind. “All right, daughter. You tend to our Sarah then.”

  Sarah left the room, and Annie followed her. When they rounded the corner, she saw Miriam sitting on the middle step, her eyes huge and welling with tears. She stared at Sarah and looked ready to burst into sobs.

  “It’ll be all right,” Annie murmured to her. She squeezed the little girl’s shoulder and continued following behind Sarah.

  In her room, Sarah yanked back the quilt spread on her bed and climbed in, shoes and all. Annie hurried over and pulled back the blanket. She unlaced her sister’s shoes and set them neatly on the floor. Then she covered Sarah back up, tucking the quilt beneath her chin.

  “Can I get you some tea?” Annie asked.

  Sarah opened her eyes and stared dully at her. “Tea?”

  “The warmth might settle your stomach.”

  “I need more than tea to settle things,” Sarah said and flopped onto her side, turning her back to Annie.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my idea.”

  “It’s a stupid idea,” Sarah mumbled into her pillow. “A stupid, stupid idea.”

  Annie rubbed Sarah’s back. “Can’t I get you something? Are you sure you don’t want some tea?”

  “You can get me a phone!” Sarah cried. “Eric needs to know what’s happening.”

  “Doesn’t he already—”

  “He knows about the baby,” Sarah interrupted, turning over to face Annie. “But he doesn’t know about Dat’s insane idea.”

  “What did he say? I mean … what did Eric say about the baby?”

  Sarah’s face
clouded over for an instant, and she put on a fierce look. “When he finds out what Dat plans, he’ll want to marry me.”

  “Sarah, what is he? Seventeen or eighteen years old? I don’t think the Englisch marry that young.”

  Sarah pulled the covers up tight. “You don’t know that.”

  Annie stared at her and wondered what the real truth was, because it was obvious to her that Sarah wasn’t telling everything.

  Sarah shook her head. “Just go,” she said and curled up into a ball on her side.

  Annie watched her for another long minute, thinking back to the carefree days of their childhood when Annie would chase Sarah in circles around the large oak tree in the front yard. She could never catch her, no matter how hard she tried. It aggravated her, because as the elder sister, she should be able to catch the younger.

  But Sarah was too fast for any of them.

  And now? Seems that life had caught up with her but good. With a sigh, Annie crept from the room hoping Sarah would get some much needed rest.

  Miriam was still on the stairs when she went down. Annie sank onto the step beside her.

  “Sarah’s going away?” Miriam asked, her large watery blue eyes on Annie. “And you’re going too?”

  “Perhaps,” Annie murmured. “Nothing’s settled for sure.”

  “I don’t want you to go. Sarah neither.”

  “I know, honey girl. But don’t you fret, now. Dat will decide what’s best.”

  Miriam gulped air and nodded her head. Annie gave her a pat on the back and stood to return to the front room. When she entered, no one had stirred from the positions they’d been in when she’d left.

  Mamm looked up at her, her eyes hopeful. “Well?”

  “She’s resting,” Annie said. She sat down beside Amos, and he grasped her hand, clutching it tightly.

  “Sarah’s right,” Mamm said. “Everyone will know, and the poor girl will be ruined.”

  “You don’t know that for certain, Mamm.”

  “Jah, I do.”

  “Better she have the boppli elsewhere, no matter what anyone thinks.” Dat gave a huge sigh and his expression was that of a heartbroken man. “May Gott forgive her.”

  Mamm wrung her hands, twisting them every which way on her lap.

  “If you need Annie to go with Sarah, you have my permission.” Amos squeezed Annie’s hand tighter yet.

  Dat glanced at him, as if confused. Then his face cleared. “Thank you, Amos. I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask you first.”

  Amos shook his head. “Understandable.” He looked at Annie. “We’ll raise the child as our own if that’s what you want.”

  There was perfect silence in the room except for the steady ticking of the large clock on the mantel. Annie stared at the fine piece of workmanship. She’d always loved the clock, even more so when her mother told her the story of its origins. It had been her engagement gift from Dat. A symbol of their future life together. Mamm laughed when she recounted the story. Dat had been a shy lad and had gifted the clock to her almost apologetically. But there had been no reason for apologies. The clock was painstakingly crafted and a glowing testament of Dat’s love.

  Tears sprang to Annie’s eyes. Would Sarah ever receive such an engagement gift? Had she ruined all chances of a happy married life? Her heart pained within her. But wasn’t the Lord God a forgiving God? Weren’t they taught to forgive as He did?

  Surely, surely, God would forgive Sarah her sin.

  “I’ll go up now and check on Sarah,” Mamm said, rising stiffly.

  “Miriam’s on the steps,” Annie said. “She’d probably appreciate a few words.”

  Mamm nodded and closed her eyes for a second. Then straightening her back, she left the room. Dat stared after her, his face a study of sorrow.

  “You’ll give us the final plan then?” Amos asked. “Once you have things arranged?”

  “Jah,” Dat said. He looked at Annie, and her heart nearly broke with the pain written there. “Thank you, daughter.”

  Annie got up and went to her father. She put her arms around him in an unaccustomed show of affection. “It’ll be all right, Dat. Truly, it will.”

  But she hardly knew if she believed it herself.

  That night in bed, Annie shifted continually trying to get comfortable. Her mind was still spinning, and her body seemed to want to do the same. She tried to control her restlessness, not wanting to keep Amos awake.

  “Annie?” he said into the darkness.

  “Jah?”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  She turned to him and snuggled into his waiting arms. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  “Do you think it’s for sure? Do you think you’ll really go?”

  Annie nodded into the night, as if Amos could see her. “She can’t have the boppli here with everyone watching her grow bigger by the day.”

  “Nee.”

  “Amos?”

  “Jah?”

  “We’ll have a boppli.” Even as she said the words, they seemed foreign—as if they didn’t belong on her tongue.

  Amos’s arms around her tightened. He paused only slightly before he said, “A little one of our own.”

  Tears filled Annie’s eyes. “It’s not how I wanted it to happen.”

  “I know.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “We mustn’t question the ways of Gott.”

  “Nee, we mustn’t.”

  They lay there unmoving, pressed together, holding each other.

  “Amos?”

  “Jah?”

  “I feel sorry for Sarah.”

  “I know you do.”

  “She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

  “You’ll be with her, Annie. You’ll make sure she’s all right.”

  Annie closed her eyes and pressed herself even closer to him. She fell asleep like that, cradled against her husband’s side.

  Annie never did know Eric’s response to Dat’s plan. Or even if he was fully aware of it. She did know that Sarah was gone a long time one evening. Mamm and Dat had been beside themselves, frantic to go out searching, but Annie had talked them into waiting. When Sarah returned hours later, her eyes were swollen and her shoulders were slumped. She would say nothing. Not one word.

  Eric wasn’t mentioned again.

  Arrangements for the trip to Ohio were made quickly. By the following Saturday, Annie and Sarah were packed and waiting in the front room for the Mennonite driver. Sarah sat, white-faced, on the couch, her back stiff and her eyes dull and resigned. Annie fluttered around, checking this and that, unable to sit still.

  Amos leaned against the doorframe, watching his wife scurry about. Dat was conspicuously absent. Mamm and Miriam peered out the window, watching for the van.

  “It’s here!” Miriam cried. Then seeming to realize what it meant, her eyes filled with tears.

  Mamm put a stoic look on her face. “Daughters, are you ready?”

  “Jah, Mamm. We’re ready,” Annie replied.

  Amos stepped forward and grabbed both of their suitcases. He went outside to load them into the van.

  Sarah stood and walked to the door. She moved neither quickly nor slowly, but more like a person walking toward some grave punishment, trying to show courage. Annie stepped to her, matching her stride with her own.

  “Sarah?” Mamm said, following them down the steps. “You take care now. You hear?”

  Sarah nodded without looking back at Mamm. She climbed into the van and situated herself next to the window. Annie gave both Miriam and Mamm a quick hug.

  “Don’t worry,” she told her mother. “I’ll watch over her.”

  Miriam was crying, big tears rolling down her cheeks. Annie gave her another hug.

  Amos stepped forward and looked into Annie’s eyes. “You’ll be back before you know it,” he said.

  Annie nodded, a huge lump forming in her throat.

  “Perhaps, I’ll come and visit you.” Amos gave her the same half-smile that had charmed her so m
any years before.

  Annie smiled in return, her heart both nervous and full to bursting. This was it. The answer to her prayers. She was leaving for seven months, and when she returned to her beloved Hollybrook, she’d be cradling a baby. A precious little soul. A child for her and Amos.

  She climbed into the van and sat beside her sister. She put her hand on Sarah’s knee and felt her tremble. She glanced at Sarah’s face and tried to discern if it was fear or anger that had her shaking. Perhaps a bit of both.

  “Sarah, I’m here,” Annie whispered.

  Sarah nodded and blew out her breath slowly. “So, you’ll raise my baby?”

  Annie’s eyes widened with surprise. Her glance immediately went to the driver, but he hadn’t seemed to hear Sarah’s comment.

  “You know I will, and with all my love,” she said.

  Sarah nodded again. “All right,” she whispered.

  Annie sucked in a quick breath. “All right?” It was one thing to have the thing ordered by Dat, but it was another thing entirely to hear agreement from Sarah’s lips.

  Annie’s heart nearly spilled over. Who but God could orchestrate something so wonderfully good from something so horribly difficult?

  She took Sarah’s hands in hers and held them briefly to her heart. “With all my love,” she repeated. “Sarah, thank you.” Annie was barely able to get the words out. The enormity of her sister’s sacrifice suddenly rose to nearly choke her.

  Sarah’s nostrils flared, but she remained silent.

  “I’ll do my very best to take care of you,” Annie said. Then she gently laid her sister’s hands back in her lap.

  The driver started the van and pulled away from the house. Annie glanced back at her family. They stood, unmoving, watching as they started down the drive. Annie raised her hand in farewell.

  Miriam ran after them for a few steps and then stopped. She returned Annie’s wave.

  Annie pressed her hands to her chest and closed her eyes. Thank you, Gott. And please help me to help Sarah. Let Thy will be done. And let something beautiful come from this.

  After her prayer, the sun seemed to rise a little higher and brighter in the sky. Annie knew she probably imagined it, but she took it as a sign nevertheless. Sarah shifted in her seat and lay her head on Annie’s shoulder.