Sarah's Gift (15 page)

“Ja, and I’ll bet she did, but not in public, where everyone would see and be talking about it.” Molly was briskly practical. “Komm, now, Aaron. Don’t you think Jacob and I slipped away for some snuggling now and then? The only difference is that you didn’t catch us.”

He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. “You women are ganging up on me. And Jacob’s lucky I didn’t catch you.”

Molly chuckled. “He knows it.” She leaned across the space between them to put her hand on his wrist. “Ach, Aaron, don’t be so hard on Benjamin. I know you think you had to be a parent to the rest of us, but you didn’t treat Nathan that way. You probably don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to.”

“I can trust Nathan not to cross the line.”

“That’s because Nathan is like you.” She patted his hand and then sat back. “Benjamin isn’t.”

His hands curled slowly. “Benjamin is more like Daad.”

She considered that silently for a moment. “I suppose he is, in personality. That doesn’t mean he has to make Daadi’s mistakes.”

“He won’t if I can help it.” Aaron had promised Mammi he’d look after the young ones. He couldn’t let her down.

“Aaron . . .” Distress filled Molly’s voice. “Don’t push him away from you while you’re trying.”

“You sure you and Sarah didn’t get together on this? That’s what she said, too.”

Molly stroked her belly, seemingly without being aware she was doing it. “Sarah is a wise woman, I think. And a gut one, too.” She gave him a speculative look. “It sounds like you’re getting to know her pretty well, ain’t so?”

The memory of that kiss brought a wave of heat to his cheeks. “Don’t start matchmaking already. I’m not looking for a wife.”

“You should be.” She rapped the words out, sounding like Mammi when she was exasperated with his stubbornness over something. “What are you waiting for, Aaron? I could understand that you didn’t want to burden someone else with us when we were young, not that there weren’t plenty of women who’d have taken us on for the sake of marrying you.”

“That’s not—”

“But it’s different now.” She swept on, not letting him interrupt. “I’m married, Nathan’s grown and will probably marry in the next year or two. Benjamin’s halfway to being a man. It’s time you thought about a life of your own.”

“Maybe I will.” He seemed to feel Sarah’s soft lips again. But how could he think of anything serious with Sarah, feeling as he did about her profession? “But if I do, I won’t let you know until it’s all set, little sister.”

That made her chuckle. “Don’t you want my advice?”

“I’ll handle any courting I do by myself, thanks.”

The back door rattled, announcing that Nathan and Benjamin were home. Molly rose, gathering up her sewing.

“You need a little privacy to talk to Benjamin. Just remember what I said.” Her eyes twinkled. “And what Sarah said.”

She went out, and he heard her saying good night to her brothers. A moment later Benjamin came in, fists clenched, every line of his body stiff, defensive.

“Molly said you wanted to talk to me.”

He nodded. “Ja, I think we should talk. Sit down, why don’t you?”

“I’ll stand.” Benjamin took up a position in the center of the hooked rug Mammi had made, legs spread stiffly.

Aaron’s throat seemed to close. How had he let such a chasm grow between himself and his little brother? Never mind that Benjamin constantly found new ways to exasperate him. He was the older brother—it was up to him to behave like an adult.

He took a breath, knowing what should come first. “I’m afraid I might have scared Louise this afternoon.” He kept his voice even with an effort. “I’m sorry for that. Will you tell her so? She’d probably rather I not mention it to her.”

Benjamin blinked. Clearly that wasn’t what he’d expected. “I . . . I . . . ja, I will tell her so.”

“I reacted without thinking when I found you.” How could you be so thoughtless? That was what he wanted to say.

But Sarah had been right. It wouldn’t lead to any good result. He seemed to hear her soft voice in his heart.

“I don’t need to tell you that you shouldn’t have gone off to the barn with Louise. I think you know that.”

“We just wanted to be alone a little bit, that’s all.” Anger edged his voice. “You don’t have to make it sound like we ... we were doing something wrong.”

“I know you weren’t.” He hesitated. “I know, too, that you wouldn’t want to do anything that might make folks talk.”

“I don’t care what they say. Bunch of blabbermauls, always talking about other people.”

Aaron took hold of his temper with both hands. “Folks do talk. It’s only natural. You might not care what they say about you, but there’s Louise to consider. Like it or not, folks are harder on a girl’s reputation. You care about Louise, ja?”

Benjamin nodded, the mulish look lingering. “Ja. We care about each other. You wouldn’t understand.”

Every generation must surely say that to the one ahead of it. It made Aaron feel old.

“I understand caring. Loving.” He said the word deliberately. “It means putting the other person’s well-being ahead of your own. I trust you to do that for Louise. That’s all I wanted to say.” Or at least, it was all he thought it safe to say.

“It is?” Surprise chased the wariness from Benjamin’s face.

“Ja.” Aaron managed a smile as he rose. “I’m going up to bed. Will you take care of the lights and locking up?”

Benjamin nodded, the surprise lingering in his eyes. “Ja. I will. Good night, Aaron.”

“Sleep well.” At least they were saying good night without any slammed doors or shouted words.

That was a step in the right direction, wasn’t it? Aaron just wished he really trusted his little brother as much as Molly and Sarah seemed to think he should.

Sarah
put one jar after another on the pantry shelves the day after the celebration. Rachel, Anna, and Leah had insisted on staying to do all the cleanup yesterday, determined not to leave until every last dish had been washed and dried and put back in its proper place.

Sarah had persuaded them to leave the gifts for her to take care of, saying Aunt Emma would want to look at them all again. Given the time of year, most people had brought the bounty of their gardens.

Each canning jar bore a label identifying its contents, but not the name of the woman who’d preserved it. That would be prideful.

Still, Aunt Emma, knowing her people as well as she did, hadn’t had any trouble identifying the giver. Sarah slid a quart jar of applesauce into place. That was probably from Dora Schmidt. Dora had talked about how bountiful their crop of McIntosh apples had been that year.

Sarah paused, hand on the shelf, knowing perfectly well what she was doing. She was occupying herself with these thoughts to block out the memory that had haunted her dreams and disturbed her sleep last night—the memory of Aaron’s kiss.

She pressed her palms over her eyes, as if to shut out the image in her mind. Anyone would think it was the first time she’d been kissed, already. It wasn’t, and she wasn’t a teenager anymore, caught up in rumspringa. At her age, a kiss should mean more. Did mean more.

But it couldn’t mean more, not with Aaron. Too much stood between them. Even if he knew the truth about his mother’s death, that wouldn’t change things. He’d still disapprove of the work to which she’d dedicated her life. To say nothing of the burden if she didn’t have children.

No, she was right to plan a life of singleness. She wouldn’t go through the pain again of disappointing the man she loved, and God had given her useful work to do. No one could ask for more.

Her heart seemed to hurt in her chest. She couldn’t deny the longing, but she would take refuge in obedience, doing the work God had set for her.

“Sarah, what are you doing? The canned meat goes over there.” Aunt Emma bustled into the pantry, taking a jar from her hand.

“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Sarah glanced cautiously at her aunt. Last night Aunt Emma had been a bit happy, a bit tearful, emotions all mixed together. Today all her defenses seemed to be up again . . . her voice tart, her lips set in a firm line.

“Is something wrong?” Sarah ventured the question, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“Wrong? What could be wrong with wanting to have things arranged properly on the shelves? What if I came in here in the dark and couldn’t . . . couldn’t . . .” Her face crumpled suddenly, tears not far away. “Ach, Sarah, I’m sorry. I’m that ferhoodled after yesterday that I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I’m sorry. Was it too much for you? They only meant to be kind.”

Aunt Emma’s mouth worked for a moment, as if she wanted to hold back the words. “They were saying I’m done, ain’t so? That my useful days are over.”

Carefully, carefully. Sarah wasn’t sure she knew the right words here.

“I don’t think it was that,” she said slowly, feeling her way. “I think they wanted to express their love and caring after learning about your health problems.”

“Maybe so.” Aunt Emma’s expression smoothed a little, but something still clouded her eyes. “But even if that’s not why they did it, it’s true enough. After what happened with Dora’s baby, no one will trust me to deliver their baby. I might as well give up.” A desolate note sounded in her voice.

Sarah understood. Who better than she to know that drive to be useful?

“Aunt Emma, you shouldn’t think that way. I’m sure—”

“You don’t need to worry about the house,” her aunt interrupted, suddenly decisive. “I told Jonas this last night. I’m signing the property over to you for the midwife practice.”

Sarah’s breath caught. “But . . . you can’t. It should go to your boys. I’m only your niece.”

“You are a daughter to me.” Aunt Emma clasped her hand firmly. “You must know that. Your mamm always knew I felt that way. She was glad to share you with me. That’s why you came to visit so often when you were little—because your mamm knew how I felt.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “I know she never grudged the time I spent with you or the fact that I wanted to be like you.”

“Well, then, it’s settled.” Aunt Emma patted her hand with a return to her usual briskness.

Sarah couldn’t just leave it at that. “But your sons . . .”

“My boys will do as I tell them. Besides, they all received a gut start from their father and me when they went out on their own. They don’t expect more.”

Sarah wasn’t so sure of that, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. And she had to try to do something about Aunt Emma’s feeling of uselessness.

“I’m grateful.” She fought to keep her voice from wavering. “I’ll be happy if I’m half the midwife you are. But you mustn’t give up just because of one problem. You’re doing well on the new medication, and I’m here to back you up. There’s no reason you can’t go on. Just maybe cut back a little.”

But Emma was shaking her head. “I want to believe that, I do. But I can’t. I can’t.”

“Please, Aunt Emma—” Sarah stopped. Probably they both heard the sound at the same time. A buggy pulling up, wheels creaking against the two inches of fresh snow on the lane.

Aunt Emma rubbed a clear spot in the fog on the pantry window. “It’s John and Charlotte Zug. Judging by the look on Charlotte’s face, you’re going to have the first new baby in the birthing center.”

“We,” she corrected. “We are.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

S
everal
hours later Charlotte’s boy arrived, lusty and red-faced, with a minimum of fuss and bother. Sarah put him in his mammi’s arms gently, touching his head with its soft fuzz of blond hair.

“Ach, he is beautiful, ain’t so?” The mother beamed, brushing her lips lightly on her son’s little fingers.

Her husband bent over them, his smile wide enough to split his face, it seemed. He’d been smiling since the first glimpse of his son, and he’d even wanted to cut the cord once it stopped pulsating.

“Ja, indeed he is.” Sarah couldn’t help the lump in her throat. Indeed, she hoped she never stopped feeling that way at a new life. “Now we’ll get you all cleaned up, and I’ll see to getting you some soup and tea.”

She could stand a little something herself. It had been a while.

She’d hoped, after their talk, that Aunt Emma would participate in the birth, at least spelling her from time to time, but Emma had disappeared upstairs.

Sarah pressed her lips together. She had to help Aunt Emma over this obstacle, but how?

She turned toward the kitchen but spun back when the front door swung open.

Ruth, Dora Schmidt’s oldest girl, hurried in, stamping snow off her shoes. “My mamm says to tell you that our neighbor, Sadie Stolzfus, is in labor, and Mammi heard about Charlotte, too, so she sent me to help you.” The girl’s blue eyes grew anxious. “That is all right? I helped you when my mamm’s baby came.”

“That’s wonderful gut of you both, Ruth.” With Aunt Emma hiding out upstairs, she’d need an extra pair of hands with another mammi coming in soon. “There’s a pot of chicken soup on the stove. Will you fix a tray for Charlotte with soup, tea, maybe some bread and butter? I’ll have to get the other room ready.”

“Ja, sure thing.” Ruth slipped her heavy coat off, her face alight with enthusiasm. “I’ll help any way you need. I’ll do that right away. What did Charlotte have?”

“A fine, strong boy.” Sarah liked the energy and enthusiasm the girl brought in with her. “Maybe you can hold him when you take the tray in.”

“I’d like that.” Ruth disappeared into the kitchen.

Sarah let out a relieved breath. Like most Amish girls of sixteen, Ruth knew her way around a kitchen. If called on, she could probably produce a full dinner for ten or twelve. She could be trusted to handle the light supper a new mommy needed.

Sarah went quickly into the other room to put fresh sheets on the bed. Once things were ready, perhaps she’d get a few minutes to rest before Sadie arrived.

But that wasn’t to be. No sooner had she finished the room and checked on Charlotte and her babe than a buggy was pulling up outside.

She hurried to open the door for the new arrivals. “Wilkom, Sadie. Thomas. I heard from Ruth Schmidt that you were on your way.”

Sadie paused in the hallway to catch her breath for a contraction, and Sarah automatically started timing. Thomas held his wife’s hand, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

“There.” Sadie blew out a breath. “Ja, Dora told me she was sending Ruth over to help. Ruth’s a gut girl. She won’t let you down.”

Like Aunt Emma, Sarah thought, and then was ashamed of herself. Emma wasn’t letting her down, but maybe she was letting herself down with this loss of confidence.

“Let’s get you settled.” Sarah led the way to the birthing room, but another contraction hit before Sadie even sat down. Sarah rubbed Sadie’s back, timing her, until it passed.

“Goodness, you didn’t komm any too soon, ain’t so?”

Sadie looked faintly embarrassed. “I wanted to finish up some things at home before I came. You know how it is.”

She did indeed. She’d seen it often enough, especially with those who already had a couple of young ones at home, like Sadie. “Well, this boppli isn’t going to take too long, so we’d best get ready to catch him or her.”

The next hour flew by so quickly that Sarah barely had time to pop into Charlotte’s room and make sure all was well there. Sadie’s baby seemed determined to get into the world as quickly as possible.

Then, as sometimes happened, everything slowed down. Sadie twisted on the bed, trying to get comfortable. “Why isn’t it time to push yet? Is something wrong?” Alarm filled her voice and showed in Thomas’s face.

“Nothing is wrong,” Sarah soothed. She double-checked the baby’s heartbeat and took a quick look. “The baby is fine. Just rest for a few minutes and try to relax between the contractions.”

“The other two came so fast when I was at this point. I don’t understand.” Sadie was alarming herself and tensing up, sure to make matters worse, not better.

Sarah took her hands, gripping them firmly so that Sadie looked at her. “Listen now, Sadie. Each boppli is different, ain’t so? I think this one is a little bigger than your last two, so he or she might take a bit more work. But you can do it. I’m going to massage you with oil so hopefully you won’t have any tearing. And Thomas is going to rub your back and talk to you.”

She gave Thomas a commanding stare. His face was pale, but he nodded and moved closer to his wife, beginning to rub her lower back. “Listen to Sarah. She knows what’s what. We’ll have a nice big baby soon.”

Sarah nodded at him encouragingly. She worked the tight muscles, easing the opening, praying there would be no tearing to deal with. She reached for the warm compresses she’d prepared, hoping that would do the trick.

“Maybe a boy.” Sadie panted. “Maybe a boy this time.”

“Or a big girl,” Thomas said. “Either one is gut.”

Another contraction hit, and Sadie breathed her way through it. Suddenly her expression changed. “Sarah, I’m wanting to push. Is the baby coming?”

A quick check showed her the baby’s head was crowning. “On the way. Put your hand here, and you can feel the baby’s head.” She guided Sadie’s fingers to touch the top of the head, loving the awe on the woman’s face.

The door opened behind her. Ruth looked excited. “Sarah, Anna Simon is here. She says she’s in labor.”

Anna was a first-time mother, inclined to be nervous. This might be nothing. Or it might be that all three babies had decided to arrive before the new year. Sarah took a step toward the door, but a groan from Sadie had her spinning around again. She grabbed Ruth’s arm.

“Go upstairs and get my aunt. I don’t care what you have to do, just get her down here to see to Anna. Sadie’s baby is coming now.”

Ruth gave a quick nod and fairly flew out the door. Sarah heard rapid steps going up as she reached Sadie. No time for anything else now. She’d just have to pray that Emma knew where her duty lay.

“Push now, Sadie. Your boppli is on its way.”

A few more minutes, and once more she was holding precious new life in her hands. “A baby boy,” she said over the newborn’s thin wail, putting the babe on his mamm’s chest. “Just what you need with those two little girls at home, ain’t so?”

“A boy?” Joy suffused Sadie’s face. “Ach, Thomas, look at our little son.”

For a moment Sarah thought Thomas was going to celebrate by passing out. She slid a straight chair close to the bed, and he flopped into it, touching his new son.

“A son,” he whispered. “A fine, strong little boy.”

Ruth popped back in, smiling at the sight. “Your aunt is with Anna, and I just checked on Charlotte. Shall I help you make Sadie comfortable?”

“You are a blessing, Ruth. That’s just what I need.”

They worked together companionably. The placenta came on a contraction as soon as Sadie put the baby to breast. Sarah checked it, explaining softly to Ruth what she looked for in the afterbirth. The girl was interested, no doubt about that.

The same expression was on Ruth’s face that must be on hers. Perhaps Sarah was watching another birth . . . the birth of a future midwife.

Once Sadie and her babe had been cleaned up and settled comfortably, Ruth disappeared into the kitchen again without being told.

Sarah slipped quietly into the room they used for meeting with patients. Anna lay propped up on the bed, with her young husband sitting on the extreme edge of the rocking chair. Emma sat beside the bed, holding Anna’s hand, talking softly, calmly, with every fiber of her being assuring the young woman that she was safe.

Something that had been tense inside Sarah began to ease. Aunt Emma still had a place here, a useful role to play. Please God that she realized it.

The next three days passed in a blur of endless laundry, cooking, serving meals, helping Anna with breastfeeding, tending to three new members of the Amish community. By the time Anna and her husband left, their little girl wrapped up snugly against the cold, Sarah was ready to collapse.

She went back into the living room, where Aunt Emma had already claimed her familiar rocker. Sarah slid into the opposite chair, feeling the tiredness in her very bones.

“Now that’s being a midwife,” Aunt Emma said, her voice filled with satisfaction. “Three babies arriving in a mite over twenty-four hours . . . I think that’s a record. I’ll have to look it up.”

Sarah smiled, also satisfied. “Do that when we get a minute.”

“Ach, we should have a little time before the next one, ain’t so? That would be Molly, and she’s not due for another two weeks.”

Sarah rocked tiredly. “According to the calendar. But as you told me when I was just starting out, babies don’t look at the calendar.”

Aunt Emma chuckled. “That’s right.” She was silent for a moment, but she looked content. “That girl of Dora’s . . . I think we’ll make a midwife out of her, ain’t so?”

We,
she’d said. Sarah smiled, meeting her aunt’s gaze with one full of understanding. They didn’t need to say more . . . it was all there between them: the craft God had called them to, the pleasure of working together, the hope and joy of passing their gift on to another young woman, with each generation building on the last.

“Ja,” she said softly. “We will make a fine midwife of her.”

Aunt Emma stretched, stifling a yawn as she picked up her book to update her records. “You should get some rest, but Molly is coming for her checkup today.”

Sarah nodded, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s all right. I’ll go to bed early tonight for sure.”

“Maybe Aaron will bring her,” Emma said, her voice carefully casual. “We haven’t seen him so much since the work is finished. You’ll be glad to visit with him a bit, ja?”

Sarah gave her a warning look. “You aren’t matchmaking, are you?”

Emma spread her hands wide, as if disclaiming any such intention. “I know you think you don’t want to marry again. That doesn’t mean Aaron can’t be your friend.”

She couldn’t meet her aunt’s eyes. “I don’t think—”

“Sarah Mast.” Aunt Emma sat bolt upright. “Is something going on with you and Aaron already, and you haven’t told me?”

“I . . . We . . .” She stopped, started again. “I think we both feel attracted to each other.” Who was she trying to fool? Herself ? It wasn’t attraction she felt for Aaron Miller. It was love. “But there’s too much standing between us to ever get serious.”

The joy vanished from her aunt’s face, and the lines grew deeper. “You mean that he blames me for his mammi’s death. But I told you how that was.” She was silent for a moment, brooding. “We thought we were right at the time, not telling him. But now . . . maybe now he should know the truth.” She looked at Sarah, her face troubled. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know.” She’d struggled in prayer with that question ever since Aunt Emma had told her what had happened. How could she tell him something that must make his feelings for his father even worse? And how could she do it out of some selfish need to remove the barrier between them?

She shook her head, rubbing away the lines that had formed between her brows. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth. I’ve been praying about it. I just hope God shows me what is right, because I don’t know.”

Sarah
rubbed her mittened hands together and stamped her feet, trying to warm up. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing at this sled-riding party at Aaron’s when she really wanted to be home catching up on her missed sleep, except that both Molly and Benjamin had urged her to come.

Aaron’s seconding of their invitation had been polite, no more, seeming to reestablish the boundaries between them that had been shattered the day he kissed her.

Still, it was Benjamin’s group of teenagers they were entertaining, and having an extra female adult around was appropriate. Molly certainly ought not to be standing out in the cold, watching the kids sail down the trail in the snow the Miller brothers had made on the hill behind the house.

It was a magical sight, she had to admit. They’d set up torches along the path, and the sleds swooped down, the kids’ shrieks and laughter shattering the cold silence of the night.

Nathan, grinning, ran up to her, clapping his hands together as if for warmth. “Sarah, you need a break. Go in the kitchen with Molly and have some hot chocolate already. We can manage things out here.”

“Maybe I will.” She felt a wave of gratitude toward Nathan, who at least cared how she was doing. After the briefest of greetings Aaron had stationed himself on the hill, as far away from her as possible.

“Give me a shout if you need me.”

He nodded, grinning, and ran off to help the kids who’d just spilled from an overloaded sled.

The blast of warm air welcomed her into the kitchen, and her breath caught. Molly stood, hands braced against the sink, in the classic posture of a woman caught in the middle of a contraction.

“Molly?” Sarah slipped off her coat and crossed the kitchen.

“Ach, Sarah. I’m fine.” Molly straightened, smiling. “It’s nothing. Just Braxton Hicks contractions.”

“Are you sure?” Molly’s baby wasn’t due for a good two weeks, but even first babies sometimes came early.

“Ja. Don’t say anything to Aaron. He’s already hovering over me like a broody hen.”

“I won’t.” Sarah patted Molly’s shoulder. “But you sit down for a bit. I’m taking a hot chocolate break. Will you have some, too?”

At Molly’s nod Sarah poured mugs for both of them and sat down across from Molly at the kitchen table. She took a cautious sip and felt the warmth move through her. “Gut.”