Abigail's New Hope (4 page)

Abby grinned at the mental picture he described, feeling her heart rate ratchet down to an acceptable level. “
Danki
. I suppose I needed the rest, but I didn’t mean to sleep so long. Have you had your lunch? What about your breakfast? Surely you’re not out there working on an empty stomach.”

Daniel followed her into the kitchen and lit the burner under the coffeepot. “I know this will surprise you, Abigail, but I can fry up bacon and eggs and make some ham-and-cheese sandwiches for my lunch. I only allow you to fuss over me because I
like
it.” He winked at her mischievously. “Sit down. Let’s have some coffee. You look like you could use half the pot.”

Abby set the pitcher of milk on the table along with two mugs. She collected her thoughts while he filled their cups. Then, with as few details as necessary, she told Daniel about the events of the previous night.

He listened without interruption while sipping his coffee. “Do you think the
boppli
will thrive?” he asked after she finished her tragic story.

“
Jah
, he was a sound baby boy. The paramedic said the baby was healthy, but he still wanted to admit him at the hospital to make sure he took to a bottle and formula. Mr. Fisher agreed and rode along in the ambulance.”

Daniel nodded with a sage pull on his beard. “Did the Fishers have other little ones running around the house?”

“No, this would have been Ruth’s first.”

“How was the husband faring?”

“He was pretty shaken up. I don’t think he understood her labor was so far along and wasn’t going well. He certainly didn’t know his wife was in any danger. At least, he sounded calm on the phone. During the time between talking to me and my arrival, he realized the situation had become dire.”

“How did he get your phone number if you’ve never seen his wife before?”

“From someone in his district.” Abby took a gulp of coffee.

“How come they weren’t under a doctor’s care?”

She glanced up into his eyes. He was watching her curiously. “I have no idea about that, either.”

“Who’ll take care of that little one now? Didn’t you say they had just moved here to find a place to farm?”

Abby held out her mug and he refilled it to the rim. “
Jah
, but he has an aunt living here in Shreve. So he does have someone to help. I stopped there on my way home to tell her what happened. She said she didn’t know that Ruth Fisher was expecting, and she had never even met the woman in person.”

Daniel grunted while studying the surface of his cup.

Abby sipped the coffee down so she could add milk and sugar. “I know Amish women never talk about their pregnancies, but I’m a midwife. Nobody wants to mention babies until they’re burping on somebody’s shoulder and then they can’t stop talking about them. But that gal should have been talking to somebody.”

“Hmm,” he said.

She might be a midwife, but her
ehemann
didn’t like discussing women’s pregnancies, either.

“Iris Fisher seemed to think Ruth had been hiding from her, not wishing for them to meet face-to-face.”

“Why would she hide from her husband’s aunt?”

“I have no idea.” She leaned back in her chair, feeling not much better even after two cups of coffee.

“Seems like there’s more you
don’t
know than do, so you probably shouldn’t throw your suppositions into this pot of stew.”

Abby’s head snapped up. “I’m only talking to
you
, Daniel, in the privacy of my own kitchen. I know you’ll never carry tales. It’s not like I’m gossiping down at the fabric shop.” She didn’t try to hide her irritation.

“
Jah
, true enough, but this whole mess has me worried. Why didn’t Doc Weller come to the farm?”

“He had responded to a hazardous situation in Ashland. They summoned all available medical personnel not on emergency call to treat possible toxic chemical exposure.”

“He didn’t show up later?”

“No, just the EMTs who transported Mrs. Fisher and the infant. Oh, and then someone from the sheriff’s department and the coroner arrived.”

“The sheriff’s department?” he asked. His dark eyes flashed with apprehension.

“Of course they came. It’s standard procedure when there’s been a death from unknown causes. Women aren’t supposed to die in childbirth.” Abby closed her eyes for a moment silently wishing she could have stayed in bed all day with the covers pulled over her head.

“How come Nathan Fisher refused to call an ambulance?”

“He said his wife wouldn’t let him. And I don’t know why she wouldn’t if that’s your next question. Maybe she had a bad experience in a hospital at some point in time. Maybe she had an unreasonable fear of doctors. You told me not to muddy the waters with suppositions, yet you keep asking me questions I can’t answer.” She struggled to her feet to make something to eat. The bitter coffee was churning in her stomach. “All I know is that
I
called the ambulance when I got there, but I think her uterine wall tore during delivery before I arrived. I did everything I could to save her, Daniel.”

He suddenly realized how his queries must have sounded. “
Mir leid
,
fraa
,” he apologized. “I know you did, but you delivering that baby by yourself doesn’t bode well.”

Abby sighed and bit back her retort. Arguing with Daniel would only make her feel worse. She tucked an apple into her apron pocket. “I’m walking to the neighbors to get Jake and Laura. They are probably wondering what’s happened to their
mamm
. How does meatloaf and mashed potatoes sound for supper? I’ll pick some fresh spinach with Laura when I get back. There should be enough ready for a salad.”

“That sounds good. I need to finish cutting the hayfield before dinner.” They walked outside together, and he pulled on heavy work boots while she laced up tennis shoes.

“I burned your clothes, Abby, so they would be done with. It must have been awful. I’m sorry you had to endure that. Maybe it’s time for you to stop midwifing. Ohio doesn’t seem to be ready to give you a proper license. Let the registered nurse-midwives do the delivering around here.”

Abby stopped in midstride. “We’ve discussed this, Daniel. The nurse-midwives work at the birthing center where they make more money and have far more control over the situation. None of them want to follow Dr. Weller around on his rounds to homes and farms. Yet you know yourself many Amish women refuse to have babies anywhere but at home. At least our community is fortunate to have a physician still willing to make house calls.”

“
Jah
, but for how much longer? Weller is getting up there in years.”

“We must take life one day at a time. I’ve been praying for another licensed midwife to come to Shreve, one who is comfortable with Amish ways, and I’ve been praying some young doctor will find our part of the world simply irresistible and move here.” Abby buzzed a kiss across his cheek and marched down the stairs. She was eager to stretch her rubbery legs and even more eager to rest the tired topic. Even though he was Amish, Daniel didn’t understand. And surely no one outside their community understood why so many Plain women chose to give birth at home. Debate continued in the legislatures of Ohio and Pennsylvania to license trained midwives who weren’t RNs, but resistance remained among other medical professionals. And yesterday’s outcome would only increase the opposition. An Amish man or woman would conclude that the Lord chose to call Ruth Fisher home last night, but an
Englischer
might see her death as an avoidable and needless tragedy.

By the time she reached her neighbor’s tidy yard, she forced thoughts of last night from her mind. Her children ran toward her from the garden with arms open wide. If she hadn’t been ready for their embrace, they would have knocked her down.

“
Mamm
, come look in the barn!” cried Laura.

“New pups,” added Jake as Abby lifted him off the ground and settled him against her hip.

“Let’s hurry,” said Laura, dragging her by the hand.

Her neighbor grinned and waved as she hung laundry on the line. Abby waved back and then followed her daughter into the dimly lit barn, smelling sweet from fresh-cut hay. The newborn spaniel pups tumbled and jostled as they vied for position to nurse from their mother. The cocker mom napped on a blanket-lined bed of straw in one corner of an empty stall. The pups, with eyes barely open, were heartbreakingly adorable.

“Miz Amy says we can look but not touch,” whispered Laura. “We’re not allowed to pick them up yet.”

“That’s right,” agreed Abby, “they’re still too little to be handled much.” She knelt down in the stall for a closer look. The new mom seemed sound asleep until Jake bumped the stall wall. Then she eyed him suspiciously. Laura leaned close enough to be counted among the pups.

“Easy, Jake. Back up, Laura,” cautioned Abby. “Let’s not make the dog nervous by crowding too close.” The children scooted back and crossed their legs Indian-style to watch the pups’ antics with utter fascination.

“Could we ask Miz Amy if we can have one? They are so cute.” Laura’s face filled with joy.

“
Jah
,
mamm
, a pup! A pup!” Jake’s enthusiasm managed to surpass his sister’s.

“What about Boots? I thought you were fond of her.”

“She always stays in the cabin in the woods, and it’s been a very long time since old Betsy died,” reasoned Laura. “We could use a new watchdog. I just know these will be good ones.” Her grin made her dark eyes sparkle.

Abby chuckled at the idea of six months being a very long time in a child’s perspective, and also about the idea of a floppy-eared spaniel being a watchdog. But the pups were quickly worming their way into her heart too. “We’ll ask your
daed
during dinner, but don’t badger him the moment he comes in from the fields. Let him wash up and eat his supper. Then he might be persuaded to take a cocker spaniel, even though he had his heart set on a springer.”

“We’ll just have to get two kinds of dogs,” Laura said with the wisdom of a six-year-old. She gently scratched the dog behind the ears and was rewarded with a lick of her hand.

Abby loved watching the pups clamber over each other and could have stayed all afternoon, but her stomach growled loud enough to be heard. Standing, she brushed straw from her dress and pulled her children to their feet. “I know how you love sticking your fingers in your mouth, so let’s wash your hands at the pump. And don’t dawdle. We still need to pick spinach for supper.”

For the remainder of the day—picking salad ingredients in the garden, fixing dinner, eating with her beloved family, and rocking on the porch swing while Daniel read Scripture aloud—Abby forced thoughts of Ruth Fisher from her mind. God would watch over Nathan and his new son. She let the last of her self-recriminations and doubts float up into the starry sky and again slept soundly.

Nathan had never been so happy to see anyone as he was his aunt when he returned from the hospital two days later. District members had come to the hospital to offer condolences and their help with chores at his farm. His cows had been milked, his chickens fed, and his horses cared for during his absence. Several nearby farmers had even cut his hay. The generosity of his new community touched his heart.

Especially because no one knew him very well.

This would have been a good place for his shy wife if she had lived. But God had other plans for Ruth, and Nathan had been left with a baby needing his
mamm
, not him.
What do I know about taking care of a boppli?
The pediatric nurses had spent several hours teaching him basic infant care and had sent him home with a question-and-answer booklet, but he still didn’t feel comfortable holding the tiny child in his big, leathery hands. So when Iris Fisher walked onto his porch, drying her hands with a towel, Nathan breathed a sigh of relief and uttered a prayer of gratitude.