The Amish Midwife. Patricia Davids
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course you can use my basket. I’m sure the church will provide the things you need when they learn of your situation.”
He picked up the hamper. “I can make do without their help. I will manage until Fannie comes back.”
Anne frowned and tipped her head slightly. “I thought the letter said she wasn’t coming back.”
His face turned stoic. “She will. She’ll see what a mistake she has made and she’ll be back. I know my sister.”
Anne held her tongue. She wasn’t so sure. She fetched a half-dozen bottles of milk she had made from the refrigerator. “These pink bottles are half milk and half my fancy water. The rest are plain goat’s milk formula. If she keeps the first ones down, give her full-strength milk tonight.”
“Will you write down the recipe for me if she does well on this?”
Anne’s conscience pricked her. She wasn’t doing enough to help him. She could tell by the look on his face that he was unsure of himself. It had to be confusing and frightening for a bachelor to suddenly find he was in charge of a baby. “I’ll make all the formula for you if you bring me fresh milk every other day.”
“Danki. I’m not much of a hand at cooking.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I appreciate all the help you’ve given me.”
“You’re willkomm.”
He walked out with Leah in the basket. Anne closed the door behind him, determined not to feel that she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t accept his offer of a job. She delivered babies. She didn’t raise them. What she did raise was produce. And right now her stand was unattended.
While most people knew they could leave their money in her tin can and take the pumpkins or the vegetables that they wanted, some Englischers would simply drive by if no one was minding the stand. She needed to get up to the road. The last two weeks of October were her biggest sale days. Today, Saturday, would be especially busy.
She grabbed a sweater from the hook beside the door and walked out into the chilly morning. The smell of autumn was in the air as the wind blew fallen leaves helter-skelter down the lane in front of her. The good Lord had blessed her with a bountiful crop and kept the heavy frost at bay. Only He knew how much longer the good weather would last.
Her pumpkins were larger than usual this year and thick under the still-green leaves in the field, but a hard frost would put an end to all of them. She said a quick prayer for continued favorable weather and walked quickly toward the small open-fronted shack she had built at the edge of her property.
If her land had fronted a busy highway, she would have seen more business, but the village of Honeysuckle was small and off the main state roads, so traffic was generally light. Her idea to post a sign out by the highway was paying off, though. She’d had twice as many customers this fall as last. Only Joseph had complained about the increase in cars on the road.
A horse and gray buggy sat parked beside her stand when she reached it. Anne immediately recognized the animal and looked for the owner. Dinah Plank was inside the shack inspecting some of Anne’s white pumpkins displayed in a wooden crate. Anne called to her, “Morning, Dinah.”
“Wee gayt’s,” Dinah answered with a wave. “A good day to you, too. I thought you would be in town at the farmers’ market, selling your produce there.”
“I took a load of vegetable and pumpkins in yesterday and Harvey Zook’s boy is selling them for me. I thought it might be better to be open at both places today.”
“Goot thinking.”
“Can I help you find something?” Anne smiled at her friend. Barely five feet tall, the cheerful plump widow was an energetic gray-haired woman. Dinah lived in Honeysuckle above the Beachy Craft Shop, where she worked for Anne’s friend Ellen Beachy. Soon to be Ellen Shetler. The wedding was planned for the first Thursday in November.
Dinah picked up a creamy white pumpkin and thumped it. “I wanted to make a few pies for Ellen’s wedding. There’s nothing like the taste of a warm pumpkin pie fresh out of the oven piled high with whipped cream. I get hungry just thinking about it.”
“I agree. You will want some of my heirloom cooking pumpkins for that. They make the best pies.” Anne gestured toward a smaller crate inside her stand.
“What about these white pumpkins?”
“I’ve tried them and they are okay, but I don’t think they have as much flavor.”
“I’ll be sure and tell my friends as much. Naomi wanted to try some whites.”
Naomi Beiler, the widow of their church’s former bishop, was the unofficial leader of the local widows’ group. The group planned benefit suppers and the like for people in need within their Amish community. They had recently held a haystack supper to raise funds for Mary and David Blauch after their son was born prematurely. The baby had had to be hospitalized for several months and the couple faced a huge medical bill. The Amish didn’t carry health insurance but depended on the rest of the community to aid them in times of need. If their local church wasn’t able to cover the cost, a plea would go out to neighboring churches to help. The way everyone looked out for each other was one of the most comforting things about living in an Amish community.
Anne thought about Joseph and Leah. Joseph didn’t feel he needed outside help, but Anne knew he did. “Will you be seeing Naomi this morning?”
On most Saturdays, Dinah went early to the farmers’ market in town, where she met friends from her widows’ club for breakfast. “I think so. Why?” Dinah cocked her head to the side.
“I have a small project I’d like help with. Joseph Lapp’s sister recently paid him a visit and left her infant daughter with him.”
“What?” Dinah’s eyes widened behind her glasses and her mouth dropped open. “He’s a bachelor.”
“Exactly. He has nothing for the child. No crib, no bottles, only a few things he borrowed from me.”
“What is his sister thinking? How long is he going to have the child?”
“I wish I knew. She may not be back.”
“How sad. Fannie has been out in the Englisch world a long time. It must be three years now. You never met her, did you?”
Anne shook her head. “She left before I moved here. Joseph has lived alone for as long as I’ve known him.”
“I’m sure he isn’t an easy neighbor to get along with. He’s not a friendly fellow.”
“We’d get along better if he kept his fences fixed. He came over three weeks ago to tell me my produce stand was bringing too many cars down the road.”
“I can see why that would bother him. His parents and the girl he planned to marry were all killed when a truck struck their buggy right at the end of his lane. Joseph and Fannie were thrown clear with barely a scratch. It was very sad.”
Anne’s heart contracted in sympathy. “I didn’t know.”
“It was Gottes will.”
All things were the will of God, but knowing that didn’t dull the pain of losing a loved one. Anne tried to imagine Joseph as a brokenhearted young man. “Was she a local girl?”
“Her family lives near Bird-in-Hand. She was the eldest daughter. I’ll speak to Naomi, but all we need to do is talk to a few of the mothers at church tomorrow and ask for donations of baby items. I know my daughters-in-law have clothing they can spare. How old is the child?”
“About four months.”
“I can pick up some formula for her in town today and bring it by this evening.”
“That