The Amish Mother. Rebecca Kertz

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The Amish Mother - Rebecca Kertz


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discussion ensued then on the merits of honey versus maple syrup.

      Mary Ruth was quiet, Lizzie noticed, but when she caught her eldest daughter’s gaze, the girl smiled at her warmly and Lizzie realized that Mary Ruth was simply content to happily observe her brothers and sisters with their aunt and uncle. The atmosphere was one of a big happy family, and it was at times such as this that she felt glad that Zack and Esther had returned to Honeysuckle.

      When they had finished their breakfast, the older girls left to do their assigned chores. Soon they would return to the kitchen to help prepare food for the next day. The youngest boys scampered outside with Lizzie’s permission to enjoy a few moments in the sun under Matthew’s watchful eye. Zack excused himself to check on something in the barn. Lizzie watched him go, wondering what needed his attention.

      “Tomorrow is church Sunday,” Esther said after she and Lizzie had enjoyed a few quiet moments at the table. She began to gather up the empty breakfast dishes.

      “Ja,” Lizzie said as she rose to help. “’Tis to be held at the Thomas Stoltzfus farm.” She gathered tea and coffee cups along with the children’s milk glasses. “Do you know them? Thomas and Marybeth Stoltzfus?”

      Esther thought a moment. “Their names are familiar but I can’t place faces on them.”

      “You’ll have a chance to visit with them after church tomorrow.” Lizzie filled up a basin with sudsy water and began washing the dishes. Esther joined her at the sink with a dish towel and began to dry.

      Zack peeked his head back into the kitchen, startling both women. “Isn’t it church Sunday tomorrow?” he asked.

      “Ja,” his sister said. “We were just discussing this. Lizzie said it’s to be held at the Thomas Stoltzfuses’. Do you remember them?”

      Zack shook his head. “But it’s been years. Seeing them may jog my memory.”

      “Do you need anything?” Lizzie asked, wondering again what he’d been doing in the barn and now why he’d returned.

      “Nay, I just came to check on tomorrow. I’ll have the buggy ready in the morning,” he said.

      As he left again, Lizzie stifled a frown and went back to work. It wouldn’t do to give her thoughts away to Esther...that she was beginning to feel as if he were taking over the farm without telling her. She had to talk with her brother-in-law soon. The uncertainty, the fear, was eating her alive, and besides, she had something on her side now...the tiny baby growing inside her.

      * * *

      The morning dawned bright and clear as Lizzie made sure all the children were ready in time for Sunday service. She gathered up the desserts she’d made for the shared meal afterward and went outside to set them in the buggy. Zack and Esther were already outside waiting for her and the children near the vehicle. When he smiled at her, Lizzie felt a funny feeling in her chest.

      “Goot morning.” Matt ran ahead and grinned at Zack, whose lips curved upward in response.

      Lizzie inclined her head in greeting as she approached, carrying two pie plates. Zack surprised her when he reached for her plates and stowed them on the floor in the front seat. The children climbed into the back of the buggy that had been built specifically for Abraham’s growing family after Jonas was born. Dressed in their Sunday best, the girls wore black full-length aprons over royal blue dresses, with black head coverings. The three boys sported white shirts, black vests and black pants, with black shoes and black-felt brimmed hats. Seeing her sons looking so like their uncle gave Lizzie a flash of memory of their family life when her husband had been alive. Sadness overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to cry.

      Soon they were on their way to church services at the Thomas Stoltzfus farm. Lizzie found herself in the front, seated next to Zack after Esther chose to sit in the back. As Zack drove, Lizzie was overly conscious of him beside her. She experienced an odd sensation in her midsection. The baby? It wasn’t her unborn child that made her feel this way, she realized. It was Zack sitting closely beside her. She watched his strong hands handle the reins with confidence. He was relaxed as he steered the buggy along the paved road toward their destination.

      She wondered how the congregation would react when they saw her and the children with Zack and Esther. Abraham had been well liked and respected, and they’d known that he’d needed to marry quickly for the sake of his children. But Lizzie had always wondered what they’d thought about Abraham’s choice of a crippled seventeen-year-old bride.

      Months into her marriage to Abe, the community women had begun to stop by the farm to visit with her, often seeking her company during church and visiting Sundays. Apparently after seeing how hard she’d worked and the love she had for her new family, the community must have decided that Abraham had chosen well.

      When her childhood friend Rachel Miller had married Peter Zook, who lived down the road, Lizzie had been happy and excited. She, Abraham and the children had been invited to the wedding, and Lizzie had been overjoyed to see her dear friend happy and in love.

      Zack steered the horse into the Stoltzfuses’ barnyard and parked at the end of a long row of family buggies. He got out and assisted Esther. The children scrambled out quickly in a hurry to see their friends. Because of her hip, Lizzie slid out more carefully and was relieved to be standing steady and on firm ground, before Zack had a chance to reach her side of the vehicle. She retrieved the pies from the buggy floor and nearly bumped into Zack as she straightened. She gasped, instantly aware of his clean masculine scent—a mixture of her homemade soap, fresh air and a manly smell that belonged only to Zack.

      Silently, he reached to take the desserts from her. She passed him the cherry pie while refusing to relinquish the apple. Lizzie firmed her lips. She was more than capable of carrying pies! He must have read her expression, for he captured her gaze, his lips curving with amusement, before he turned his attention to his sister, who joined them with the dish of brownies she’d baked yesterday afternoon.

      How dare Zack laugh at her expense! She felt her throat tighten. She had handled the farm and the children since Abraham’s death. The children continued to be clothed, fed and cared for. And she’d done it on her own, hadn’t she?

      She brightened when she caught sight of Rachel, who looked over and waved. Lizzie grinned and raised a hand in greeting, watching Rachel’s gaze shift to Zack beside her as they approached. Her friend raised her eyebrows in question, and Lizzie could feel herself blush as she reached the front porch steps and handed Rachel her pie before she reached toward Zack for the other one. She sighed when Rachel looked to her for an introduction.

      “Zack, this is a dear friend, Rachel Zook. Rachel, meet Zack Fisher, my late husband’s brooder.”

      Zack gave Rachel a nod. “Rachel,” he greeted warmly.

      Lizzie encountered his gaze and suddenly felt flustered. “Rachel and I grew up together. She recently married Peter Zook, who lives just down the road from us.”

      “I’m sure you’re happy to have her close.”

      Lizzie gave her friend a genuine smile. “Ja,” she and Rachel said at the same time. Lizzie laughed, warmed again by Rachel’s friendship. Rachel was the only person who accepted Lizzie limp and all. If not for Rachel’s presence during her childhood, Lizzie would have been unable to endure the other children’s ridicule.

      She saw Rachel’s expression change as her friend studied Zack. Confused, Lizzie shot Zack a look only to find him staring at her and not Rachel.

      “Zack?” Amos Beiler drew Zack’s attention away from her and Rachel. Lizzie sighed with relief. She watched recognition dawn in Amos Beiler’s expression followed by delight as he and Zack shook hands. She stood as the two men exchanged pleasantries.

      “Lizzie,” Rachel whispered, drawing her aside. “He is beautiful! He looks like...” She didn’t say Abraham’s name but gave Lizzie’s hand a squeeze. “Only he’s better-looking.”

      “Rachel!”


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