The Amish Midwife. Patricia Davids
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so miserably with my sister?”
Anne wished she could offer him the comfort he needed. She searched for the right words. “We do what we must. We depend on Gottes grace to see us through. Leah will be a blessing to you.”
He pressed his lips into a tight line and shook his head. “Nay. She will grow to hate me and abandon her faith as her mother has done.”
“You don’t know that.” He was upset, not thinking straight. Anne didn’t blame him. This was a terrible shock.
He surged to his feet. “I know I can’t raise a baby. I can’t! You know what to do. You take her! You raise her.” He thrust Leah toward her. The baby started crying.
Anne jumped out of her chair and backed against the counter as she held up both hands. “Don’t say that. She is your niece, your blood. You will find the strength you need to care for her.”
“She needs more than my strength. She needs a mother’s love. I can’t give her that. I couldn’t give Fannie that.”
Anne covered her eyes with her hands. He had no idea what he was offering. For years after she lost her son, she’d suffered a recurring dream. In it, she found a baby alone in some unlikely place. In the barn or out in the garden. She was always alone, and Anne rejoiced because she could keep the unwanted child. Yet every dream ended exactly the same way. The moment she had the baby in her arms, someone would take it from her. She woke aching with loss all over again.
Joseph had no idea what a precious gift he was trying to give away. He didn’t understand the grief he would feel when his panic subsided. She had to make him see that.
Lowering her hands, she stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. “I can help you, Joseph, but I can’t raise Leah for you. You’re upset. That’s understandable. Fannie has wounded you deeply, but she must have enormous faith in you. Think about it. She could have given her child to an Englisch couple or another Amish family. She didn’t. She wanted Leah to be raised by you, in our Amish ways. Don’t you see that?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You’re tired. You haven’t had much sleep in the past four days. If you truly feel you can’t raise Leah, you must go to Bishop Andy and seek his council. He will know what to do.”
“He will tell me it is my duty to raise her, just as the bishop before told me it was my duty to raise Fannie. Did you mean it when you said you would help me?” His voice held a desperate edge.
“Of course I meant it. Before you make any rash decisions, let’s see if we can get this fussy child to eat something. Nothing wears on the nerves faster than a crying bubbel that can’t be consoled.”
He needed a break. Anne could give him one. It was the least she could do. She took the baby from him.
He raked his hands through his thick blond hair again. “I must milk my herd and get them fed.”
“That’s fine, Joseph. Go and do what you must. Leah can stay with me until you’re done, but I have to get my pumpkins up to my stand before long. Customers will be arriving soon. It’s getting late.” It was nearly nine o’clock.
He stepped back and rubbed his hands on the sides of his pants. “I reckon I can take your load of pumpkins up to the roadway for you before I milk.”
“That would be wunderbar, Joseph. Danki. But I should warn you that the front wheel is loose and it wobbles.”
He gave her a wry smile. “So do your windmill blades. There are tools to fix those things.”
She leveled a hard stare at him. “Are they the same tools you could use to fix a fence so your goats don’t get out? What a pity neither one of us owns such wonders.”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I may have a few tools lying around somewhere. If you can get Leah to eat without throwing up, I’ll fix your wheelbarrow and your windmill.”
“I would do it without a bribe, but you have a deal.” At least he seemed calmer. The look of panic had left his eyes.
“Danki, Anne Stoltzfus. You have been a blessing. You have proven you are a good neighbor. Something I have not been to you.” He went out the door with hunched shoulders, as if he carried the weight of the world upon them.
Anne looked down at Leah. “He’d better come back for you. I know where he lives.”
The baby continued to fuss softly, trying to suck on her fingers, trying to catch anything to put in her mouth.
Anne shifted Leah to her hip, freeing one hand to finish mixing the formula, and went to her stove. When she was done with the milk and it had cooled enough, she poured some in a bottle mixed with her electrolyte solution and sat down in the rocker in her office. Leah latched on to the bottle but spat it out and fussed louder.
“Don’t be that way. I know it tastes different, but give it a chance.” Anne offered the bottle again. Leah began sucking, reluctantly at first, then with gusto. She managed to clasp the bottle in her tiny hands and pulled it closer, hanging on to it for dear life.
“Not so fast. You’ll make yourself sick.” Anne took the bottle away. A tiny scowl appeared on Leah’s face, reminding Anne of the one that normally marked Joseph’s brow. She had to smile. “You take after your mother’s side of the family.”
What a beautiful child she was. Anne sighed heavily. “It’s not that I don’t want you. You understand that, don’t you? To have a babe of my own, I would love that, but I have stopped thinking it is possible. I only met one man I wished to marry and he didn’t want to marry me. I’m not a spring chicken anymore. I’ll be thirty-four in June.”
Leah didn’t comment, but she was watching Anne intently.
Anne closed her eyes as she rocked the child. “I stopped having dreams about finding babies when I turned thirty. I’m not sure what my age had to do with it, but that’s when it stopped. Your poor mother. This had to be the most difficult decision of her life. She may yet change her mind and come back for you. I’ll pray for her. And for your onkel, who needs comfort, too.”
Only God knew if Leah would be better off with her mother or not. Either way, Joseph was going to need Anne’s support and the support of the entire community. He faced a difficult time and a hard choice. The person she needed to talk to was Naomi Beiler, the woman in charge of the local widows’ group. Naomi would know what to do and how to do it.
* * *
Joseph stood on Anne’s steps for a long time staring out at his yearling goats in the pasture across the fence. They moved slowly, grazing quietly, their white-and-brown coats contrasting sharply with the grassland. A few of the young ones frolicked briefly and a mock battle broke out between two young bucks. They butted heads a few times, but they soon stopped and went back to grazing. The sky overhead was clear, but Joseph’s mind was in a fog. He couldn’t make sense of what had happened. The letter sat like a stone in his pocket. He pulled it out and read it again, hoping for a different answer. It hadn’t changed. It still said Fannie wasn’t coming back for Leah.
He couldn’t accept that.
Fannie would change her mind. She couldn’t leave her babe without a thought, not the girl he knew. Not his sister. She would return. It was just a matter of time before she realized what a terrible mistake she’d made. He tucked the letter away again. What he had to do now was take care of Leah until then. He would find a way.
Anne’s wheelbarrow full of pumpkins sat off to the side of the porch. He grasped the handles and began pushing it up her lane. He almost dumped it once, but managed to right it in time. Her front wheel was more than a little crooked. When he reached her produce stand, he marveled at the assortment of vegetables, gourds and pumpkins that she had for sale. The vegetables and gourds were displayed in small bins. The pumpkins were lined up along the roadside. Tucked among the produce were