Читать книгу Amish Christmas Blessings: The Midwife's Christmas Surprise / A Christmas to Remember - Marta Perry, Jo Ann Brown - Страница 15

Chapter Five

The snow was gone from the roads by the time Elizabeth and Anna set out for the Beachy home on Monday afternoon. A brisk wind ripped snow from the trees and sent it swirling in front of the buggy horse who plodded patiently on. Anna was glad of the blanket over their knees, and she tucked it in more snugly.

“Are you sure you want me to be with you on this visit?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t repeating herself. “I mean, Etta and Dora might feel freer to talk if I’m not there.”

“I’ve never noticed anything keeping Etta from talking,” Elizabeth said. She took her gaze from the road long enough to study Anna’s face. “Are you worried that I won’t agree with you?”

“Not worried, exactly.” But Etta’s comment referring to her as second-best seemed lodged in her mind, despite Ben’s efforts. “I’ll be glad to have your opinion. Maybe I’m wrong, and if so...”

Elizabeth startled her by reaching over to grasp her hand. “None of that, now. Whether we are right or wrong in a particular situation, we must always take the course that’s safest for the mammi and the boppli.”

“Even if it makes me look foolish?”

“Even so.” Elizabeth smiled. “And not just you. I mind one time when I was so sure I’d heard a second heartbeat. I told the parents, and they rushed around borrowing an extra cradle and getting more blankets and diapers.”

“And?” She suspected how this story was going to play out by the way Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled.

“Nobody was more surprised than me when I delivered one big, healthy boy. I never have figured out what it was I heard that day.” She chuckled. “I was a long time living that down, believe me.”

Anna squeezed her hand before letting go. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?” Elizabeth asked innocently.

They were both still laughing when they drove up the lane to the farmhouse.

Etta must have been watching for them. One of the boys ran out to take the horse and offer a hand to help Elizabeth down. Anna jumped down herself, her sturdy shoes landing on the hard-packed snow of the lane. She picked up the medical bag and followed Elizabeth to the back door.

“Komm in, komm in.” Etta was there to greet them. She gave Anna a sidelong glance and addressed Elizabeth. “We didn’t know you were both coming.”

Elizabeth’s smile didn’t falter. “I think it best if both of us see every patient a few times. We’re partners, after all. If one of us should be busy with another mammi when someone goes into labor, we should both be familiar with the case, ain’t so?”

Etta didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue, to Anna’s relief. Was she feeling a bit guilty after being caught gossiping? Or wondering if Elizabeth had heard about her criticism of Ben? It was certain sure Elizabeth hadn’t heard it from either her or Ben, but very often she seemed to know what was happening without being told.

The two of them shed their outer garments, hanging coats and bonnets on the pegs near the back door. Rubbing her palms together, Elizabeth moved to the gas heater in the corner.

“Dora won’t want us touching her with cold hands, ain’t so?” She smiled at Dora, sitting near the heater in a padded rocker. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, fine.” Dora glanced at her mother-in-law. “Mamm Etta is taking gut care of me.”

Etta beamed. “Ach, we’re all wonderful happy about the baby coming.”

There was a little more chitchat, restrained on Etta’s part and careful on Anna’s, but Elizabeth chattered normally, drawing Dora out on the progress of her pregnancy. It was fascinating to see Dora relax and gain assurance under the influence of her warmth.

That was a place where she needed to improve, Anna decided. Conquering her natural shyness was a day-by-day battle, but she had to keep at it if she was going to be the midwife Elizabeth was.

They all adjourned to the bedroom, where Elizabeth gave Dora a swift, deft exam. Anna, holding the girl’s hand, saw the apprehension in her eyes. “It’s all right,” she said, patting her shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Catching the words, Elizabeth looked up and smiled. “That’s certain sure. It won’t be long until you’re holding this little boppli in your arms.”

“How soon?” Etta chimed in.

Elizabeth chuckled. “Komm, Etta, you know better than to ask me to pinpoint the birth date. All yours were a bit late, as I recall.”

“For sure. I thought James was never going to get here.” Etta shot a glance at Anna, as if to say, you see?

“’Course Dora isn’t going to take after you. Could be anytime from two weeks early to two weeks late and still be normal.” She patted Dora’s belly. “Just let us know if you start having any contractions or even feeling not quite right. That’s what we’re here for, and one of us will always come.”

Dora nodded, her small face relaxing, and she smoothed her hand over her belly protectively. “James and I pray for a healthy baby, whenever it arrives.”

“Gut. That’s the best way to think.” Elizabeth nodded to Anna. “We’d best be on our way. It’s turning colder, I think.”

Naturally Etta didn’t want to let them go without giving them coffee and cake, and they finally compromised by taking a thermos of coffee with them.

“It’ll be most wilkom on the way home,” Elizabeth said, and pushed Anna gently out the door.

The wind caught them as they left the shelter of the porch, and they scurried to the buggy that James had ready and waiting for them. In another moment they were on the road home.

“Brr.” Elizabeth tucked the blanket more firmly over them. “It’s turning colder. The snow will stay to make it a white Christmas, I think.”

“That sounds lovely to me.” Anna glanced at her. “But tell me the truth. You don’t agree with me about Dora’s baby coming earlier, do you?”

“You heard what I told Dora. Besides, babies have a mind of their own when it comes to that. Still, I can see why you think it.” Elizabeth gave a little nod. “Dora is carrying low and in front, just like her mamm did. Makes her look as if the little one is about to pop out. But hers usually arrived right about their due date.”

Anna nodded, a little relieved though still wondering. “It’s a shame Dora’s family moved out to Ohio when they did. She’d like having her mamm here.”

“I’m sure that’s so. Although Etta was a bit less opinionated today than she usually is. I almost asked her if she were sick.”

Anna was surprised into a laugh. “Ach, I shouldn’t laugh at her, but...” She stopped, thinking it might be best not to bring up the subject of Ben’s encounter with Etta.

“Something happened after worship Sunday, ain’t so?”

“How...” Anna stared at her.

“How do I know?” Elizabeth finished for her. “Because I have eyes in my head.” She sighed, staring straight ahead toward the horse’s ears. “I was keeping watch on Benjamin, of course. Couldn’t help it—I wanted so much for him to feel as if he fits in again.”

Anna’s mind stumbled over how to respond. “I don’t think he would be upset by anything Etta might say. He knows what she’s like.”

“Ach, sometimes I have thoughts that aren’t very Christian about that woman.” Elizabeth clutched the lines so tightly that the mare turned her head to look back, as if asking why.

“I know. But Ben took it in stride. He even had me laughing about it.”

“I’m wonderful glad you were with him. You always seemed to understand Ben so well.” Elizabeth reached out to clasp her hand. “Please, just keep being a friend to him. Encourage him. He needs that right now. Will you?”

Be a friend. Encourage him. And how was she to protect her heart while she was doing that?

But she didn’t really have a choice. She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Of course I will.”

* * *

“Slide in there.” Ben’s brother Daniel gave him a nudge that sent him along the bench at the back of the schoolroom a few nights later. Dan and his wife, holding their two young kids, came in after him, pushing him farther as the rest of the family piled in behind them.

It was the night of the Amish school Christmas program, and even though the family no longer had kinder in the school, they wouldn’t think of missing it. In fact, there was about as good a turnout for the program as there was for Sunday worship.

Dan pressed him a bit more as he made room, and Ben found himself crunched up against Anna. Not that he minded, but he wasn’t sure how Anna would take it. However, she just smiled and slid her coat under the bench to make a bit more space.

“Close quarters,” he murmured. “Looks like the whole church is here.”

“For sure. No one would want to miss seeing the scholars say their Christmas pieces.” She reached out as Dan’s two-year-old, Reuben, wiggled his way over adult knees to reach her. “Want to sit on my lap?”

He nodded, one finger in his mouth, and gave Ben a sidelong look as if not sure what to make of this new onkel of his. When Anna lifted him, he snuggled against her, still staring at Ben.

Anna ruffled the boy’s corn silk hair and whispered to him. “That’s Onkel Ben, remember? Can you give him a smile?”

Reuben pulled the finger out of his mouth just long enough to produce a smile, dimples appearing in his rosy cheeks. Then, apparently stricken by shyness, he buried his face in the front of Anna’s dress.

Ben wasn’t sure whether to find it funny or not. “Guess he’s not ready to accept me just yet.”

“He’s a little shy, like most two-year-olds,” Anna said. “Give him time.” She stroked Reuben’s head lightly. “Besides, it’s already past his bedtime.”

“I won’t push.”

That had to be his motto for everything about his return. Relationships might be easy to break but they could be hard to rebuild. Maybe it would be easier with Reuben and his baby sister, since they weren’t old enough to have been disappointed by him.

“I thought I heard your voice.” The guy ahead of him turned around, a grin splitting his face. “Ben. Wilkom back!” Gus Schmidt, once one of his closest friends, pounded him on the shoulder. “Sure is gut to see you.”

“I’m wonderful glad to be here. You’ve changed.” Ben nodded toward the bristly beard that adorned Gus’s chin.

“I’m an old married man by now. Nancy finally put me out of my misery.”

Nancy Fisher and Gus had been sweethearts already when Ben left, so he wasn’t surprised. But it did startle him to see the boppli Gus held on his knee. The little girl babbled, reaching past him toward Reuben.

“This here’s Mary Grace.” He bounced the tot on his knee and she grinned, showing her few teeth.

Ben shook his head. “Imagine you, responsible enough to be a daadi. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Beat you to it, anyway.” Gus looked as if he couldn’t stop smiling.

The familiar give and take between buddies was a balm to his heart. Here was one person, at least, who hadn’t changed in his regard.

“If Nancy knew half the things you got up to, she’d never trust you with a boppli. Where is Nancy, anyway?”

“She’s been helping out with the props for the program. She’d want to talk to you later, but mind you don’t say anything about the mischief you led me into. I had enough sense not to...”

Gus let that trail off, and the tips of his ears reddened. “I mean...”

“It’s okay.” Ben punched his arm lightly. If he was going to stay, he’d have to get used to folks stumbling over what to say about his jumping the fence. “I always did have to learn everything the hard way, ain’t so?”

The teacher walked to the front of the audience just then, and everyone got quiet, sparing Gus the embarrassment of answering. “We’ll get together later, ain’t so?” he murmured, and turned to face front.

Ben settled back onto the bench and realized that Anna was watching his face, maybe measuring how much he was affected by that conversation. He gave her a reassuring smile and watched her flush a little in return.

Teacher Lydia proved to be Nancy’s younger sister. She had more poise than he’d have expected as she welcomed everyone and introduced the program. As usual, the evening began with the youngest scholars, probably because they were too excited to wait.

He might have expected to be bored by the program, given some of the entertainment he’d seen in the outside world. In fact, he was completely rapt. The scholars’ innocent faces, intent expressions and sometimes wobbly voices were enchanting. He glanced at Anna. She was watching just as closely, a reminiscent smile curving her lips.

Of course it would be familiar to her. Even though she hadn’t grown up in Lost Creek, her school would have had a program that was probably very like this one. No doubt she’d stood up in front of the audience, quaking a bit, to say her lines.

As if Anna felt his gaze, she met his eyes.

“Do you miss it?” he whispered under cover of the song the younger kinder were singing. “Being with your own folks at Christmastime?”

She shook her head. “I was there visiting at Thanksgiving. But Lost Creek is home now. And I get out of the rumspringa gang Christmas parties.”

That comment startled him. Why wouldn’t she want to get together with the girls she’d gone through rumspringa with? Those were usually the people who became your friends for life.

Then he really looked at her, seeing what he hadn’t before. She cradled the sleeping Reuben against her heart, and when she looked down at him, her face was suffused with tenderness. Of course. All those girls would have families by now, except for Anna. And she wanted a family—that shone so clearly in her face.