Sarah's Gift (2 page)

Thank you, Father, for this new beginning.

Once Emma raised her head again, Sarah broke off a piece of bread and picked up her spoon. The first mouthful of soup sent warmth through her, chasing away what remained of her doubts.

“Wonderful gut soup.” She smiled at her aunt. “I’ve been so eager to get here to see you.”

“Ach, I feel the same.” Aunt Emma reached across the table to clasp her hand. “I never thought to say this, but it gets lonely here in the evenings by myself. Maybe Jonas is right.”

When she didn’t continue, Sarah lifted her eyebrows. Jonas was her cousin, the oldest of Aunt Emma’s three sons and the only one still living in Pleasant Valley. A gut man, but a little bossy.

“What might Jonas be right about?”

“Thinking I should move in with him and Mary, and sell this place.”

The words shocked Sarah so that for a moment she couldn’t speak. In all Aunt Emma’s letters this possibility hadn’t even been hinted at.

“But they live clear over near Fostertown. How would you tend to your patients from that far away? And what about your plans to build an addition for birthing rooms, so women can have their babies here if they want? I thought you’d started work on it back in the spring. It must be about done, ain’t so?”

Something in Aunt Emma’s expression warned her. Sarah stood, walked to the door that should lead to the new addition, and opened it. And stared, her heart sinking.

The foundation was completed—Aunt Emma had written about that. And the walls roughed out. But otherwise, it was just an empty, unfinished space.

Sarah turned, closing the door, feeling as if she were closing the door on her hopes. “Aunt Emma, what happened? You said it would be all ready by the time I arrived.”

Aunt Emma drew back, lips pursing. “I thought it would. But Jonas felt it was a waste of money. He insists it’s time for me to stop working so hard and just take it easy.”

“But that’s what we planned.” Sarah was drowning in a tide of dismay. “What we talked about. That we’d be in practice together, working together the way we always wanted to.”

“Ach, do you think I don’t know that? It’s what I always wanted, too. And I certain sure don’t want to disappoint you.”

Sarah took a steadying breath, trying to drown out all the voices that had insisted she was being foolish and headstrong to make this move to Pleasant Valley.

“Don’t worry about me.” It took an effort to say the words. “Or about what Jonas thinks. What do you want, Aunt Emma?”

Her aunt drew herself up, a flash of her usual determination in her face. “I want to go on delivering babies, just like always. I want to go ahead with the birthing rooms.” She glanced toward the door. “Still, Jonas . . .”

She let that trail off, and Sarah thought she understood. Jonas was making difficulties about the money it would cost to finish the addition.

But Sarah had the answer to that, didn’t she? If she really was committed to this move, maybe she had to be willing to take a risk.

She sat next to her aunt, clasping Emma’s work-worn hand where it lay on the table. “Let me pay for the rest of the addition.” She tightened her fingers when Aunt Emma seemed about to protest. “That’s only fair. After all, if I’m going into practice with you, I should invest something, and I have the money from the sale of our share of the farm.”

For a moment she could feel Aunt Emma’s resistance. Then, slowly, it faded.

“You would do that?”

The money was all she had. But what was it for, if not to invest in her future?

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Tears shimmered in Aunt Emma’s faded hazel eyes, but her grasp was firm. “We will do it, then.”

“We will do it,” Sarah echoed. Come what may, she was committed now. There was no turning back.

Aaron
walked into the carpentry shop, carrying the package he’d picked up at the bus station when he’d run into Sarah Mast.

Nathan looked up from the workbench where he was sanding a cabinet door. “Something wrong? You look like a thunderstorm.”

“Nothing. Here’s the new knobs for Mrs. Donohue’s cabinets.” He set the package on the workbench. “Maybe now we can get that job finished.”

Nathan grinned. “If she doesn’t change her mind again.”

“Easier to work for Amish than Englisch.” Aaron slit the tape on the box, checking to be sure the knobs were the ones they’d agreed on. “An Amish woman wouldn’t be so worried about having the latest fashion in cabinet knobs. A knob’s a knob, isn’t it?”

Nathan shrugged. “She’s the customer.”

“She is.” He shouldn’t be taking his ill-humor out on Nathan, of all people. And his mood had little enough to do with Mrs. Donohue, with her constant chopping and changing. It was Sarah Mast’s arrival that had him annoyed, and that was the truth of the matter.

He smoothed his hand down the cabinet door Nathan was working on, appreciating the fine grain of the wood they’d chosen. Then he glanced around the shop. “Where’s Benjamin?”

“He saw you drive on by. I guess he thought that meant we were done for the day.”

“That boy thinks anything is an excuse to quit work.”

“He’s not yet sixteen.” Nathan’s tone was indulgent. “A boy’s mind is on everything but work at that age.”

“Listen to you, sounding like a long-bearded elder.”

Aaron clapped Nathan’s shoulder, regaining some of his good humor. Nathan tended to take things as he found them, which made him a gut partner in the business. As for Benjamin—

Well, maybe Nathan was right, and the boy just needed to do a bit of growing up. But Nathan hadn’t been so heedless at that age, and as for himself . . . well, he’d never had the chance to be that way with the younger ones to take care of.

Nathan smoothed a cloth over the door. “So, are you going to tell me what you were doing over at Emma Stoltzfus’s place?”

“When I got to the bus station, I found Sarah Mast waiting there for a ride. You remember her? Emma’s niece from Holmes County?”

Nathan looked thoughtful. “Can’t say I remember her, but I knew Emma had kin there. So you brought her to Emma’s.”

“Ja.” Aaron frowned. “It seems Emma forgot this was the day Sarah was coming and hadn’t sent anyone to meet her.”

“Lucky for her you happened to be there today. This niece came by herself?”

He nodded. “She’s a widow.”

He seemed to see Sarah the way he’d seen her in that first moment, standing alone, an isolated figure in black, out of place among the Englisch who brushed heedlessly past or stared at her with curiosity. And to see the smile that lit her green eyes when she thought he’d come to fetch her.

“So this Sarah’s come for a visit to her aunt?”

Nathan sounded interested. Not surprising. The Amish of Pleasant Valley, Pennsylvania, were a little isolated themselves, living far from the heavily Amish areas like Lancaster County and Holmes County. A newcomer was always of interest.

“That’s what I supposed.” He felt the tension grip his jaw again. “But she says she’s a midwife, come to join her aunt in her practice.”

Nathan lifted an eyebrow. “I thought Jonas said his mother was closing down the midwife practice and moving in with them.”

“It looks like Jonas was wrong.” Or maybe Sarah was wrong, in which case she’d had a long trip for nothing.

“I guess you think that’s too bad.”

“It’s nothing to me.” He avoided looking at his brother. Whatever he felt about midwives . . . well, he was entitled to his opinion, but to share it smacked of speaking ill of a member of his congregation, and he would not do that.

“You’ve met this niece before, ain’t so?” Nathan was obviously not done with the subject.

“She was here for a summer a while back. Maybe six or seven years ago.”

If someone had asked him yesterday, he’d have had trouble recalling that fact. Now an image of the girl she’d been popped into his head, as clear as if it had been a week ago. She’d come to a singing with his sister, the two girls laughing and talking together as if they’d known each other forever.

That was their Molly, open and warm, quick to laugh, with a determined glint in her eyes when she thought he was being too bossy with her or the boys.

Next to her, Sarah had been quiet, even a little shy, but with a warm sparkle in her green eyes that reminded him of a stream bubbling over moss-covered rocks, and a reddish tint to her brown hair.

That glow was gone now. The Sarah he’d met today looked as if she’d been through some difficult times. Her oval face was thinner, and the eyes held wariness as well as maturity.

Well, not so surprising. She’d known sorrow all right, with her young husband dying that way. An accident of some sort, he thought, though if he’d heard the details, they’d been forgotten.

Nathan set the cabinet door upright and held one of the knobs against it to see how it looked. “Not bad. Maybe Mrs. Donohue was right.”

“Maybe. I’ll be glad to get the job finished.”

“What do we have coming up next?”

Nathan was shaping up to be a fine carpenter, but he seemed to have little interest in the other side of the business—getting the work, keeping the records, paying the taxes.

“Nothing pressing. Bishop Mose was talking about having some new shelves put up in the harness shop, but that won’t take long.”

Business always slowed down this time of year, but this year seemed slower than usual.

Nathan shrugged, unperturbed. “Something will turn up.”

The door rattled, letting in Benjamin and a blast of chilly air. The boy was sprouting out of his coat, it seemed, his sleeves showing bony wrists and the big hands he hadn’t quite grown into yet. But he was closing in on them. He looked like Mammi, with those clear blue eyes and corn-silk hair, but he was going to have Daad’s height.

Worry tightened inside Aaron. As long as that was all the boy inherited from their father.

“Where have you been?” The words came out a bit more sharply than he’d intended.

“Just took a little break.” Benjamin was instantly defensive. “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

Aaron forced his face to relax into a smile. He kept praying God would give him more patience with the boy, but he had to do his part.

“No, nothing wrong.” He nodded toward the bundle clutched in Benjamin’s hand. “Anything interesting in the mail?”

Benjamin grinned suddenly, looking about six again. “A letter from Molly. That interesting enough?”

“Molly?” Nathan grabbed for it, but Benjamin held it teasingly out of reach. “Komm, give it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know what she says?” Benjamin ducked behind the workbench, grinning.

“Grab him, Aaron.” Nathan dove toward his brother, and Aaron joined him in wrestling their little brother for the precious letter.

When Aaron stood, running a hand through his hair a couple of minutes later, whatever remained of his ill-humor had vanished. “What would Molly say if she caught us wrestling in the shop?”

“Stop that, you boys,” Benjamin piped in a silly treble. “Read it, Aaron.” He hoisted himself onto the worktable.

Aaron ripped the envelope open, scanning the pages quickly. “She says she’s well, and Jacob has been busy with work. She says—”

Nathan took advantage of his stopping to snatch the letter from him. “You’re too slow. She says . . . ach, listen to this. ‘Jacob’s work crew is going out to Wisconsin on a job. I don’t want to stay here by myself, so tell Benjamin to get out of my old room. I’m coming home to Pleasant Valley to have the boppli.’ ”

Nathan waved the letter, grinning. “Molly’s coming home!”

Joy flooded Aaron’s heart. His little sister would be with them again.

To give birth to her baby. He sobered. One thing was certain. If he had anything to say about it, Molly wouldn’t be going to a midwife to have this baby.

CHAPTER TWO

S
arah
walked slowly around the outside of the addition to Aunt Emma’s house, wrapping her shawl around her against the cool air. The late-November sunshine was weak in comparison to the chill, but it carried a welcome warmth. She tipped her face back, enjoying the touch of the sun on her skin, feeling as if she were waking from a long sleep.

Maybe she had been asleep, in a way . . . the sudden blow of Levi’s death had been followed by what seemed a long period of inertia, when she’d been unable to move in any direction.

With Sarah’s own mother gone, Aunt Emma, in the form of her constant letters, had carried Sarah through that time. Her proposal that Sarah come to share her practice had been the prod she needed to wake up. To seek a new direction—a new life.

Now that new life was starting, and if her arrival here had contained a bit of disappointment—Aunt Emma’s failure to send someone to pick her up, the discovery that the birthing rooms weren’t finished—at least she was here and ready to move forward.

The birthing rooms were a simple matter, ain’t so? She’d talk to Aunt Emma about getting the carpenter back to work again.

She turned, glancing toward Aaron Miller’s shop and house. Had he done the work? She’d have to find out.

She couldn’t see the house from here, not with the stand of trees in the way. But a plume of smoke drifted above the woods, marking the place.

A pasture stretched from Aunt Emma’s house toward the trees, fenced in for her buggy horse. The animal lifted its head to stare at Sarah when she moved, then dropped it again to crop at the browning grass. A few trees dotted the pasture, to provide shade in the summer, and a pond eliminated the need to carry water. Everything about Aunt Emma’s place was as neat and tidy as ever—no doubt Jonas saw to that.

“Sarah?” Aunt Emma called from the doorway. “Komm, schnell, breakfast is ready.”

With a last glance at the addition, Sarah obeyed. This was going to work out the way they’d planned. Of course it would.

She brushed the dampness from her shoes at the door and hung her shawl on a hook, following the aromas of coffee and breakfast bread to the kitchen.

“You didn’t need to fix such a big breakfast for just the two of us.” She picked up the coffeepot as Aunt Emma set a pan of cinnamon buns on the table.

“Ach, I must make up for forgetting the day yesterday. Such a wilkom that was for you.” Aunt Emma pressed her cheek briefly against Sarah’s, then sat down and bowed her head for the silent prayer. Sarah did the same.
Denke, Father. Thank you.

“Eat, eat.” Aunt Emma passed her a bowl of scrambled eggs. “You are too thin.”

She accepted, knowing her aunt would only be happy if Sarah ate some of everything she’d set on the table.

“I was looking at the addition. You’ve made a gut start, ain’t so? Will you let the carpenter know to start again?”

Aunt Emma frowned. “Sarah, are you certain sure you want to do this? I know you said you have the money from the farm, but—”

“I’m sure.” She brushed away the faintest sliver of doubt. “The money is mine to do with as I want, and this is what I want to do.”

It had been a battle of sorts, getting the money for Levi’s share of the farm in a lump sum. His father and brother had not liked the idea, insisting she’d be better off to go on living with them, accepting small payments each month.

There’d be time enough to want the rest if she married again, which she might. A widower with children to raise would be a gut match, according to Levi’s father.

Her lips tightened at the memory of that conversation.

“There was trouble with Levi’s family over your selling his share of the farm, ja?”

Sarah hadn’t mentioned that in her letters to Aunt Emma, but her aunt seemed to know anyway. “Ja.” A small sigh escaped her. “I didn’t wish to be at odds with them, but I could not fall in with their plans for me.”

“Marrying a widower with kinder who needed a mammi.” Aunt Emma had a twinkle in her eyes. “No, you didn’t tell me so, but I know well enough how some people’s minds work. Levi’s father is a gut enough man, but not one to understand a woman wanting to go her own way.”

“No, he’s not. But Daadi talked to him with me.” She felt a rush of gratitude for her father. He might not understand her moving so far away, but he had supported her decision.

Aunt Emma nodded. “Your maam did well when she settled on your daad. She could have had any of half a dozen boys, as lively and pretty as she was, but she never looked at anyone else.”

“No, she didn’t.” Sarah’s voice went soft. She knew how devoted her parents had been. “I thought that Levi and I would be like that, but . . .” She let that die off, not wanting to sound disloyal to her husband.

“Levi couldn’t deal with not having kinder of his own.” Aunt Emma patted her hand. “He could not accept that it was God’s will.”

“No.” Familiar guilt stirred at the thought.

When the doctor could find no reason why she hadn’t become pregnant, Sarah had ventured to suggest once that Levi go to the doctor for testing, but his anger had shown her that it was better to accept the blame herself rather than persist.

“Well, now, we should talk about the clients who are coming in today.” Aunt Emma seemed to understand that Sarah wasn’t comfortable with the subject of her marriage. “I want both of them to meet you.”

“There are just two?” That startled her a little. She could remember a time when Aunt Emma saw many more than that on her at-home days.

Her aunt stiffened. “Not so many as I once had. There is a new doctor in town, and some of our people are going to him. But things will pick up once we have the birthing rooms finished.” She moved briskly as she spoke, bringing to the table the notebook in which she’d always kept her schedule. “You’ll see.”

Her confidence was a contrast to the doubts she’d expressed the day before, and Sarah found her own spirits rising, too.

“And we must get going on the addition,” her aunt added. “I’ve been thinking on how best to move ahead with the work.”

“Is there a problem? Surely the carpenter who started it—”

“He’s a friend of Jonas’s.” Aunt Emma’s lips pursed, and her old determination showed in her face. “When he learned Jonas didn’t want me to do it, he suddenly became too busy to finish. No, I won’t call on him again.”

“I’m sorry.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to get in the middle of a family dispute, but Aunt Emma could certainly decide this for herself.

“So I think it will be best if we ask Aaron and his brothers to take the job. You can go over and talk to him after we’re finished for the day.”

“Me?” Her voice squeaked a bit, and she seemed to see again the negative reaction in Aaron’s face at learning she was a midwife. “I’m not sure—”

“That is best,” Aunt Emma said firmly. “You will be paying for it, so you must handle the plans. That is, if you’re sure you want this.”

Put like that, she could hardly say no, so she nodded. But she could still see the disapproval in Aaron’s strong face, and she very much wondered what his answer would be.

As
she walked up to the carpentry shop that afternoon, Sarah realized that despite the setbacks, her confidence had been growing throughout the day. Getting back into harness as a midwife was just what she needed. She’d been away from patients too long while she settled things back in Ohio.

In a way, this would be even better. There, she’d been one of a number of midwives. Pleasant Valley had only Aunt Emma and now her to provide for a growing Amish population.

Still, she couldn’t help the faintest tinge of worry. She remembered a time when Aunt Emma saw twenty or more women on a prenatal-visits day. Did a new doctor in Pleasant Valley really account for such a change? If the practice didn’t pick up ...

She forced herself away from anxious thoughts. After all, the two women she’d met today had been welcoming. Dora Schmidt, the first, already had seven babies, and she had every confidence that number eight would arrive on time and with little fuss.

Rachel Zook was expecting her first baby with her new husband, Gideon, although from what she said, she had three children from her first marriage. Still, she seemed as excited and happy as if this were her first.

Aunt Emma, with the indulgent smile of someone who’d delivered hundreds of babies, had let Sarah deal with Rachel. Sarah had felt an instant bond with the woman, and they’d spent several minutes talking about whether or not they’d met when Sarah was here before.

Rachel had bloomed with joy over the coming baby. Sarah firmly suppressed the faintest hint of envy. She would never allow her longing for a child of her own to interfere with her happiness for the mothers in her care.

She was approaching Aaron’s shop. Sarah stiffened her backbone in preparation for meeting him again.

Maybe she was being unfair to him. She shouldn’t let a moment’s impression affect her attitude toward the man. She deliberately quickened her steps.

Sarah opened the shop door to the sounds of a generator and saw, and the scent of freshly cut wood. The shop was larger than she’d thought from the outside—as big as the whole downstairs of Aunt Emma’s house, maybe. The Miller brothers probably held church here when it was their turn to host worship.

And despite the piles of lumber and the machinery, the shop was as neat as a housewife’s kitchen. That didn’t surprise her. Aaron struck her as a man who would be methodical and neat at anything he attempted.

But the man who turned off the saw at her entrance wasn’t Aaron. He had Aaron’s height and coloring, but his face was relaxed and open in contrast to the gravity that seemed to sit constantly on Aaron’s expression.

“I am Nathan Miller.” He dusted his hands off on a rag as he came toward her. “And you must be Emma’s niece.”

“I am. But how did you know that?” She found herself responding to his smile.

“Easy. I know every Amish person in Pleasant Valley, so since I don’t know you, you must be newly komm.” He nodded toward the window, grinning. “And since you walked, you didn’t come far. So it was simple.”

“I guess so.” Nathan was easier to talk to than his older brother—that was certain sure. “I think I must have met you when I visited my aunt years ago, but you would have been a small boy then.”

“Not so small as all that,” Nathan said. “But you are not here to talk about how much I have grown. What can I do for you?”

He sounded very much the grown-up businessman when he asked the question, so she changed her mind about waiting for Aaron. Surely it did not matter which of the Miller brothers she talked with.

“My aunt and I would like to finish the addition to her house that is already started. She hoped you might want the job.”

“Ach, ja.” He seemed to put a curb on his eagerness. “But Solomon Gaus started that job, ain’t so? It wouldn’t be right if we took his work from him.”

“He told my aunt that he didn’t have time to finish the project, so I don’t think you need to be concerned about that.”

Her fingers clenched as she thought about Jonas’s interference. Sooner or later she’d be talking to her cousin, and she might have trouble keeping from expressing her opinion.

“Well, if that’s so, it’s no problem.” His expression cleared.

“You don’t have too much other work to do? We’re eager to have the job completed as soon as possible.”

“We are finishing up a kitchen for an Englisch lady now, but after that we should have plenty of time.”

A shadow bisected the patch of sunlight that lay on the floor. “Plenty of time for what?”

Nathan greeted Aaron’s entrance with an open smile. Sarah took a moment to compose her features before she turned to him.

“I was just speaking with your brother about having you finish the addition to Aunt Emma’s house. She is eager to have it done as soon as possible.”

She wasn’t imagining the way Aaron’s tall figure stiffened at her words.

“I’m sorry. But we are busy—”

“But Aaron.” Nathan’s astonishment couldn’t be hidden. “I chust told Sarah that we don’t have anything after we finish the kitchen cabinets for Mrs. Donohue. Have you taken on another job?”

Aaron probably wouldn’t like it that Sarah had no trouble reading his feelings, despite that stoic expression he wore. He didn’t want to do the work on the birthing rooms. She hadn’t been wrong about his reaction to her presence here.

Sarah was unaccountably disappointed. She ought to be used to the fact that some people had little respect for midwives. It was unreasonable to care about the opinion of a man she barely knew.

“Nothing definite.” He answered his brother in a tone that said he wanted no further discussion on the matter. “But there are a few things pending.”

Nathan snorted. “If you’re talking about Eli Schmidt, we could be waiting until next year for him to make up his mind about that barn roof.”

“Eli is a gut customer for us. It wouldn’t be right to take on another job if he’s decided.” Aaron had begun to sound harassed.

She was tempted to press him on it, especially since Nathan still looked unconvinced. But she’d spent too many years evading confrontation to be looking for it now.