The Amish Midwife
The Amish Midwife
Patricia Davids
An Unexpected FamilyAmish midwife Anne Stoltzfus is used to late-night visitors—but she's shocked to find reclusive bachelor Joseph Lapp on her doorstep with a baby in his arms. Their neighborly quarrels are pushed aside when Joseph explains that his sister has left her daughter in his care—and Joseph needs Anne to be her nanny. Soon they're bonding over baby Leah, and the love they feel for her is healing them both. When Joseph makes an offer of marriage, Anne's painful past resurfaces and she's unsure of what to do. But taking a chance could mean love—and family—are waiting just across the fence.Lancaster Courtships: Life and love in Amish countryCollect all 3 book in the series!The Amish Bride by Emme MillerThe Amish Mother by Rebecca KertzThe Amish Midwife by Patricia Davids
An Unexpected Family
Amish midwife Anne Stoltzfus is used to late-night visitors—but she’s shocked to find reclusive bachelor Joseph Lapp on her doorstep with a baby in his arms. Their neighborly quarrels are pushed aside when Joseph explains that his sister has left her daughter in his care—and Joseph needs Anne to be her nanny. Soon they’re bonding over baby Leah, and the love they feel for her is healing them both. When Joseph makes an offer of marriage, Anne’s painful past resurfaces and she’s unsure of what to do. But taking a chance could mean love—and family—are waiting just across the fence.
“I’m taking the baby for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Nay, this isn’t right. She’s my responsibility.”
“Don’t be stubborn and prideful, Joseph. Baby Leah is going to spend the day with me, and when you come to pick her up, we’ll talk about my salary.”
“What salary?” He couldn’t keep up with her conversational jumps. His mind was a complete fog.
“The one you will pay me to be Leah’s nanny.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do that.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll see you later. Have a nice rest. I suggest you lie down on the sofa. That way your neck won’t be so stiff.”
He opened his mouth to reply. There was some argument he needed to make, but he couldn’t summon the wits to figure out what it was. He heard the door close, and silence filled the house. Blessed silence.
Leah was being looked after. Anne could take care of her better than he could.
Anne with the sweet laugh and funny smile who hated his goats and threw tomatoes at him.
After thirty-five years as a nurse, PATRICIA DAVIDS hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her online at patriciadavids.com (http://www.patriciadavids.com).
The Amish
Midwife
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Patricia Davids
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Therefore God dealt well with the midwives:
and the people multiplied, and waxed very mighty.
—Exodus 1:20
This book is dedicated with great respect to my nephew’s wife, Terrah Stroda, a nurse midwife, wife and mother. She has seen the works of God as few people do. May He continue to bless her and her family. I wish to thank my brother, Greg Stroda, for his invaluable information on pumpkin farming. Thanks, bro. Couldn’t have done this without you. And I want to extend a special thanks to Te’Coa Seibert for letting me tour her goat dairy and meet her remarkable animals up close. They were too cute. And the fresh cheese was great!
Contents
Cover (#uc213a6ca-3cc0-5719-aee3-aee60d16f05c)
Back Cover Text (#u273e52c2-bb74-5d8f-ae13-17f4a90528c8)
Introduction (#ub911aa36-d08b-59cd-a5b3-4f1d86701bf6)
About the Author (#ub5f7f2a4-8e53-5df4-aebe-494d84ebcb42)
Title Page (#u465e2870-05ac-5e8d-8060-f8b699cda291)
Bible Verse (#u7f9971e1-2f19-5e5c-98f7-cfd70b10f8d5)
Dedication (#u459bf5b9-683d-541a-bdd1-ec522733cef7)
Chapter One (#uc11f99ae-e4cd-501f-a610-f0bccf1151d8)
Chapter Two (#u31c2b665-42a0-5c46-afbf-e50d3ad2a47f)
Chapter Three (#u146b5052-d098-51d9-b0dc-f7edd02dda9e)
Chapter Four (#ub67759b8-5771-5675-a57a-b8a263794332)
Chapter Five (#ud6460f40-8c7e-53ab-b5c7-79af811b2d3d)
Chapter Six (#u9d933dcf-9c92-5d01-90f7-90955ebb9af6)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_8d6bd7f2-2409-576e-a1af-7abbcaeaf2fa)
“You miserable alt gayse. Oh, no, you don’t. Not again!” Anne Stoltzfus shot to her feet when she spotted the intruder working his way under the fence beyond her red barn. She stepped closer to the kitchen window. He was almost through.
“What’s wrong?” Roxann Shield remained seated at Anne’s kitchen table, her eyes wide with concern.
“It’s Joseph Lapp’s old goat. He’s getting into my garden. I’m not going to lose the last of my precious tomatoes or another prized pumpkin to that thief.”
Anne dashed out into the cool morning. Flying down the steps, she raced toward the rickety fence separating her garden plots from her cantankerous neighbor’s farm, yelling as she ran. “Out! Get out of there!”
Her nemesis was halfway under the fence when she reached him. Armed with only a kitchen towel, she flew into battle, flapping her weapon in the black-and-brown billy goat’s face. The culprit tried to retreat, but his curved horns snagged in the sagging wire. The more he struggled to escape her attack, the more tangled he became. He bleated his misery as loud as he could.
Anne stopped flapping when she recognized his dilemma. He couldn’t go forward and he couldn’t go back. She rested her hands on her hips as she scowled at him. She heard laughter behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Roxann doubled over with mirth on her front steps.
Anne turned her attention back to the goat. “I should leave you here. It would serve you right to spend the night with your head stuck in the fence.”
Feeling sorry for the goat was the last thing she wanted to do, but he did appear miserable sprawled on his belly with his head cocked at an awkward angle. His eyes were wide with fear and his mouth hung open. She looked about for his owner, but Joseph Lapp was nowhere to be seen. Of course he wasn’t. Trust her neighbor to be absent when his animal was misbehaving. That was usually the case.
How many times had his goats managed to get in her garden and eat her crops? More than she cared to count. More than she could afford to lose. Each time she drove them out, she bit her tongue to keep from telling Joseph Lapp exactly what she thought of his smelly horde. Her Amish faith required that she forgive grievances, but enough was enough. If the man didn’t repair his fences soon, she was going to have a word with Bishop Andy about Joseph’s poor stewardship. She didn’t want to cause trouble, but she was tired of being on the losing end of the situation.
However satisfying a conversation with the bishop might be, it didn’t solve her current problem. The goat continued bleating pitifully. A number of other goats looked over their pens to see what was going on. Anne waited for Joseph to appear, but he didn’t. She studied the billy goat for a long moment.
“If you are to be free, I reckon I’ll have to do it. Remember this kindness and stay out of my garden.”
“Be careful,” Roxann called out.
Crouching in front of the goat, Anne put her hand on his head and pushed down so she could untangle his horns. She wrinkled her nose at his stench. Why did he smell so bad? If she had a garden hose handy, she would bathe him before she let him up. Maybe that would deter him from visiting next time. He struggled harder but she was only able to unhook one horn. “Hold still, you wicked animal.”
Suddenly, the goat surged forward. His second horn popped free and he made a break for it, barreling into Anne. The impact toppled her backward into her precious tomato plants. Although it was mid-October, the vines still bore huge red fruit, the very last of the summer’s bounty and a sure cash crop at her produce stand. She sat in openmouthed shock as the feeling of squished tomatoes beneath her soaked through her dress. So much for a goat’s gratitude.
She shook her fist at him. “You miserable, ungrateful beast!”
“Do you need a hand?”
The mildly amused voice came from the far side of the fence. Joseph Lapp stood with his arms crossed on his chest and one hand cupped over his mouth.
He was a tall, brawny man with wide shoulders and muscular arms. A straw hat pulled low on his brow covered his light blond hair. The wide brim cast a shadow across his gray eyes, but she knew he was laughing at her. Again. They rarely shared a conversation, but he was always finding some amusement at her expense. Did he enjoy seeing her suffer?
She scrambled to her feet. “I don’t need a hand. I need you to keep your goats out of my garden. Unless you keep them in, I’m going to complain to the bishop.”
Joseph walked to the gate between their properties a few yards away and opened it. “Do what you must. Chester, koom.”
The billy goat snatched a mouthful of pumpkin leaves and trotted toward the gate. He walked placidly through the opening, but Anne saw the gleam in his beady black eyes when he looked over his shoulder at her. He would be back. Well, she wouldn’t be so kind to him next time. It wouldn’t be a kitchen towel. She’d find a stout stick.
Joseph closed and latched the gate. “I will pay for the tomatoes. Just throw the ruined ones over the fence.”
She brushed off her stained maroon dress and glared at him. “I’m not going to reward that mangy animal with my fresh tomatoes, even if they are ruined. He’ll only come back wanting more.”
“Suit yourself. If I can’t have them, I won’t pay for them.”
“Are you serious?” Her mouth dropped open in shock. She took a step toward him and planted her bare foot in another tomato. The pulp oozed between her toes.
“You sat on them. Chester didn’t.” Joseph turned to walk away.
Furious, Anne plucked the closest whole tomato and threw it with all her might. It hit Joseph squarely between the shoulder blades, splattering in a bright red blob where his suspenders crossed his white shirt.
Horrified, she pressed her hands to her mouth. She had actually hit the man.
Joseph flexed his shoulders. Bits of broken tomato dropped to the ground. Chester jumped on the treats and gobbled them up. Joseph turned to glare at Anne.
She didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. She fled to the house as fast as her shaky legs could carry her. She dashed past Roxann and stopped in the center of her kitchen with her hands pressed to her cheeks.
“What a great throw.” Roxann came in, still chuckling. “Did you see the look on his face?”
“In all the years I played baseball as a kinner, no one wanted me on their team. I couldn’t hit the broad side of the barn when I threw a ball. But today I struck my neighbor.”
“You didn’t hurt him with a tomato.”
“You don’t understand.” How could she? Roxann was Englisch. She didn’t have to live by the strict rules of Anne’s Amish faith.
Roxann stopped giggling. “Will you get into trouble for it? I know the Amish practice nonviolence, but you weren’t trying to hurt him.”
“I struck him in anger. That is not permitted. Ever. If Joseph goes to the bishop or to the church elders, it will be cause for a scandal. I’m so ashamed.”
Roxann slipped her arm over Anne’s shoulder. “I’m sure Mr. Lapp will forgive you. You are only human. Put it out of your mind and let’s finish these reports. You and the other Amish midwives are doing a wonderful job. Your statistics will help me show the administration at my hospital that our outreach education program is paying off. Our funding is running out soon. If we’re going to continue educating midwives and the public, we have to prove the benefits outweigh the cost.”
Roxann, a nurse-midwife and educator, was determined to improve relations between the medical community and the Amish midwives, who were considered by some doctors to be unskilled and untrained. It was far from the truth.
Anne allowed her mentor and friend to lead her back to the table and resume the review of Anne’s cases for the year. Glancing out the kitchen window, Anne looked for Joseph, but he wasn’t in sight. She nibbled on her bottom lip. Was he going to make trouble for her?
* * *
A full harvest moon, a bright orange ball the color of Anne’s pumpkins, was creeping over the hills to the east. The sight made Joseph smile as he closed the barn door after finishing his evening milking. It had been two days since the tomato incident, but he still found himself chuckling at the look on Anne’s face when she’d realized what she’d done. From shock to horror to mortification, her expressive features had displayed it all. She might be an annoying little woman, but she did provide him with some entertainment. Especially where his goats were concerned. Her plump cheeks would flush bright red and her green-gray eyes would flash with green fire when she chased his animals. She was no match against their nimbleness, but that didn’t keep her from trying.
Goats enjoyed getting out of their pens. Some of them were masters of the skill. Was it his fault that the best forage around was in her garden plot?
It wasn’t his intention to make life harder for the woman. He planned to mend his fence, but there simply weren’t enough hours in the day. Now that the harvest was done, his corn cribs were full and his hay was safe in the barn, he would find time to make the needed repairs. Tomorrow for sure.
He was halfway to the house when the lights of a car swung off the road and into his lane. He stopped in midstride. Who could that be? He wasn’t expecting anyone. Certainly not one of the Englisch.
Most likely, it was someone who had taken a wrong turn on the winding rural Pennsylvania road looking for his neighbor’s place. It happened often enough to be irritating. His farm was remote and few cars traveled this way until Anne Stoltzfus had opened her produce stand. Now, with her large hand-painted sign out by the main highway and an arrow pointing this direction, he sometimes saw a line of cars on the road heading to buy her fresh-picked corn, squash and now pumpkins. Since the beginning of October, it seemed every Englisch in the countssy wanted to buy pumpkins from her. He would be glad when she closed for the winter.
He didn’t resent that Anne earned a living working the soil in addition to being a midwife. He respected her for that. He just didn’t like people. Some folks called him a recluse. It didn’t matter what they called him as long as they left him alone. He cherished the peace and quiet of his small farm with only his animals for company, but that peace was broken now by the crunching of car tires rolling over his gravel drive. From the barn behind him, he heard several of his goats bleating in curiosity.
Whoever these people were, they should know better than to come shopping at an Amish farm after dark. Anne’s stand would be closed until morning. The car rolled to a stop a few feet from him. He raised his hand to block the glare of the headlights. He heard the car door open, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Hello, brooder.”
His heart soared with joy at the sound of that familiar and beloved voice. “Fannie?”
“Ja.”
His little sister had come home at last. He had prayed for this day for three long years. Prayed every night before he laid his tired body down. She was never far from his thoughts. Still blinded by the lights, he took a step forward. He wanted to hug her, to make sure she was real and not some dream. “I can’t believe it’s you. Gott be praised.”
“It’s me, right enough, Joe. Johnny, turn off the lights.”
Something in the tone of her voice made Joseph stop. Johnny, whoever he was, did as she asked. Joseph blinked in the sudden darkness. He wanted so badly to hear her say she was home for good. “I knew you would come back. I knew when your rumspringa ended, you would give up the Englisch life and return. Your heart is Amish. You don’t belong in the outside world. You belong here.”
“I haven’t come back to stay, Joe.” The regret in her voice cut his joy to shreds. He heard a baby start to cry.
After few seconds, his eyes adjusted and he could make out Fannie standing beside the open door of the vehicle. The light from inside the car didn’t reveal his Amish sister. Instead, he saw an Englisch girl with short spiky hair, wearing a tight T-shirt and a short denim skirt. He might have passed her on the street without recognizing her, so different did she look. No Amish woman would be seen in such immodest clothes. It was then he realized she held a baby in her arms.
What was going on?
He had raised Fannie alone after their parents and his fiancée were killed in a buggy and pickup crash. He’d taken care of her from the time she was six years old until she disappeared a week after she turned sixteen, leaving only a note to say she wanted an Englisch life. For months afterward, he’d waited for her to return and wondered what he had done wrong. How had he failed her so badly? It had to be his fault.
It was hard to speak for the tightness that formed in his throat. “If you aren’t staying, then why are you here?”
The driver, a young man with black hair and a shiny ring in the side of his nose, leaned toward the open passenger-side door. “Come on, Fannie, we don’t have all night. Get this over with.”
“Shut up, Johnny. You aren’t helping.” She took a few steps closer to Joseph. “I need your help, brooder. There’s no one else I can turn to.”
Were those tears on her face? “What help can I give you? I don’t have money.”
“I don’t want your money. I...I want you to meet someone. This is my daughter. Your niece. Her name is Leah. I named her after our mother.”
“You have a bubbel?” Joseph reeled in shock. He still thought of his sister as a little girl skipping off to school or playing on their backyard swing, not someone old enough to be a mother. He gestured toward the car with a jerk of his head. “Is this man your husband?”
“We’re not married yet, but we will be soon,” she said in a rush.
“Soon?” Had she come to invite him to the wedding?
“Ja. As soon as Johnny gets this great job he has waiting for him in New York. He’s a musician and I’m a singer. He has an audition with a big-time group. It could be our lucky break. Just what I need to get my career going.”
She looked away and bounced the baby. Something wasn’t right. Joseph knew her well enough to know she was hiding something.
Maybe he was being too hard on her. Maybe she was simply ashamed of having a babe out of wedlock and she expected her brother to chastise her.
This wasn’t the life he wanted for her, but he was a practical man. It did no good to close the barn door after the horse was gone. He struggled to find the words to comfort her. “If Johnny is the man Gott has chosen for you, then you will find a blessed life together.”
“Thanks. Danki. We will have a good life. You’ll see. But in the meantime, I need your help. Johnny has to get to his audition, and I’m going to have surgery. Nothing serious, but I can’t keep the baby in the hospital with me.” She moved the blanket aside and showed him a cast on her wrist.
“It was an accident,” Johnny shouted from inside the car.
“It was,” Fannie added quickly, her eyes wide. She nibbled at the corner of her lower lip.
“I did not think otherwise.” At least not until this moment. He eyed Johnny sharply. Nay, it was wrong of him to think the worst of any man. If his sister said it was an accident, he must believe her. He nodded toward the house. “Come in. We can talk there. I have a pot of coffe on the stove.”
“No, thanks. Your coffee was always strong enough to dissolve a horseshoe. I can’t stay, Joe. Please say you will take care of Leah for me. It’s only for a couple of days.”
“Think what you are asking. I have no experience with babies.”
“You raised me.”
“You were not in diapers.”
“Please, Joe. If you don’t keep her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I have everything she’ll need in a bag for you. I’ve even mixed a couple of bottles. Keep them in the fridge and warm them in a pan of hot water when you need them. That’s all you’ll have to do. If you run out, there’s powdered formula in here.” She set a pink-and-white diaper bag down by her feet.
“Hurry it up, Fan, or I’m going to leave without you.” Johnny’s snarling tone made her flinch. Joseph scowled at him. Johnny sank back behind the wheel muttering to himself.
Joseph shook his head. Why was she with such a fellow? “This is not a good idea, Fannie. You know I would help if I could.”
She moved close to him. “I’m desperate, Joe,” she whispered.
Glancing at the car, she kissed the baby’s forehead. “She will be safe with you. I won’t worry about her for a single minute. Please. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s what’s best for her.” She thrust the baby into his arms and hurried away.
Stunned, Joseph froze and then tried to give the baby back, but his sister was already getting in the car. “Fannie, wait!”
The moonlight showed her tear-streaked face and her hand pressed to the window as the car took off with a spray of gravel. He stood staring after it until the taillights disappeared.
“Don’t do this, sister. Come back,” he muttered into the darkness.
The baby started crying again.
Chapter Two (#ulink_bc8b10b3-c89a-5ca7-be22-161aef3339e1)
Startled awake from a sound sleep, Anne tried to get her bearings. It took her a moment to realize someone was pounding on her front door downstairs.
She threw back the quilt and turned on the battery-operated lantern she kept on her nightstand. As a midwife, she was used to callers in the middle of the night, but only Rhonda Yoder was due soon. Anne lived so far away from them that the plan was for Rhonda’s husband to use the community telephone when she was needed. Anne carried a cell phone that had been approved by the bishop for use in emergencies. She checked it. No calls had come in.
After spending the previous day and night delivering Dora Stoltzfus’s first child, Anne was so tired it was hard to think straight. Maybe Dora or the baby was having trouble.
The knocking downstairs started again.
“I’m coming.” After covering her head with a white kerchief, she pulled on her floor-length pink robe, making sure her long brown braid was tucked inside.
She hurried down the stairs, opened the door and gazed with sleep-heavy eyes at the man standing on her front porch. She blinked twice to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and held the lantern higher. “Joseph?”
Why was her neighbor pounding on her door at two o’clock in the morning? He shifted a bundle he held in the crook of his arm. “I require your help, woman.”
That didn’t make any sense. Joseph was a confirmed bachelor who lived alone. “You need the services of a midwife?”
“That is why I’m here.” He spoke as if she were slow-witted. Maybe she was. What was going on?
It had been almost a week since she’d hit him with a tomato. This wasn’t his way of getting back at her, was it? Suddenly, the most probable answer occurred to her.
She reared back to glare at him. “Don’t tell me it’s for one of your goats. I’m not a vet, Joseph Lapp.”
She was ready to shut the door in his face. Joseph’s passion was his annoying goats. They were practically family to him. He preferred their company to that of his human neighbors. She often saw him walking in the pastures with the herd surrounding him. The frolicking baby kids were cute in the springtime, but it was the adults, Chester in particular, who saw her garden as a free salad bar.
“She’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong.” The bundle Joseph held began whimpering. He lifted the corner of the blanket and uncovered a baby’s face.
Anne’s stared in openmouthed surprise. Her lantern highlighted the worry lines around his eyes as he looked at the infant he held. This wasn’t a prank. He wasn’t joking.
“Joseph, what are you doing with a bubbel? Where’s her mudder?” The babe looked to be only a few months old.
“Gone.”
“Gone where? Who is the mudder?” None of this made sense. Anne felt like she was caught in a bad dream.
“It’s Fannie’s child.”
“Fannie?”
“My sister.”
Anne had heard that Joseph’s sister had left the Amish years ago. It had broken his heart, or so everyone said. Anne wasn’t sure he had a heart to begin with.
“Can you help her?”
His terse question galvanized her into action. He had a sick child in his arms and he had come to her for help. She stepped away from the door. “Come in. How long has the babe been ill? Does she have a fever?”
Shouldering past Anne, he entered the house. “She has been fussy since her mother left her with me four nights ago, but it got worse this morning. No fever, but she throws up everything I’ve given her to drink. Tonight she wouldn’t stop crying. She has a rash now, too.”
The crying was more of a pitiful whimper. “Bring her into my office.”
Anne led the way to a small room off the kitchen where she met with her mothers-to-be for checkups and did well-baby exams on the infants as they grew. She quickly lit a pair of gas lanterns, bathing the space in light. She pulled her midwife kit, a large black leather satchel, off the changing table and said, “Put her down here.”
He did but he kept one hand on the baby in case she rolled over. At least he knew a little about babies. That was something of a surprise, too, in this night of surprises. His worry deepened the creases on his brow. Sympathy for him stirred inside her.
Joseph Lapp was a loner. He was a member of her Amish congregation, but he wasn’t close friends with anyone she knew about. When there was trouble in the community or someone in need, he came and did his part, but he never stayed to socialize, something that was as normal as breathing to most of the Amish she knew. He didn’t shun people. He just seemed to prefer being alone.
They had been neighbors for almost three years and this was the first time he had been inside her home. A big man, he stood six foot two, if not more, with broad shoulders and hammer-like fists. He towered over Anne and made the small room feel even smaller. She took hold of the baby and tried to ignore his overwhelming presence. He took a step back, thrust his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders as if he felt the tightness, too.
Anne quickly unwrapped and examined the little girl. The baby was thin and pale with dark hollows around her eyes. She looked like she didn’t feel good. “How old is she?”
“I don’t know for certain.”
This was stranger and stranger. “I would guess three or four months. She’s a little dehydrated and she is clearly in pain.” The baby kept drawing her knees up and whimpering every few minutes. The sides of her snug faded yellow sleeper were damp. It was a good sign. If the baby was wet, that meant she wasn’t seriously dehydrated.
“She needs changing, for one thing. Do you have a clean diaper?” Anne glanced at him.
“At the house, not with me.”
“There are some disposable diapers in the white cabinet on the wall. Bring me one and a box of baby wipes, too.”
He jumped to do as she requested. Anne took off the sleeper that was a size too small as well as the dirty diaper, noting a bright red rash on the baby’s bottom. “Bring me that blue tube of cream, too.”
When Joseph handed her the things she’d asked for, she quickly cleaned the child, applied a thick layer of aloe to the rash and secured a new diaper in place. It didn’t stop the baby’s whimpering as she had hoped. She carefully checked the little girl over, looking for other signs of illness or injury.
Joseph shifted from foot to foot. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
Perplexed, Anne shook her head. She didn’t want to jump to a faulty conclusion. “I’m not sure. Her belly is soft. She doesn’t have a fever or any bruising. I don’t see anything other than a mild diaper rash and a baby who clearly doesn’t feel well. I reckon it could be a virus. Is anyone else in the family sick?”
“I’m fine.”
Anne wrapped the baby in her blanket, lifted the child to her shoulder and turned to face Joseph. “What about her mudder?”
“I don’t think so. She wasn’t sick when I saw her last, but I only spoke to her for a few minutes.”
The baby began sucking noisily on her fingers. Anne studied the child as she considered what to do next. A cautious course seemed the best move. “She acts hungry. I have some electrolyte solution I’d like to give her. It’s water with special additives to help children with sick stomachs. Let’s see if she can keep a little of that down. What’s her name?”
“Leah.”
“Hallo, Leah,” Anne crooned to the child and then handed the baby to Joseph. He took her gingerly, clearly unused to holding one so little. The babe looked tiny next to his huge hands.
Why would Leah’s mother leave her baby in the care of a confirmed bachelor like Joseph? It didn’t make sense. There were a lot of questions Anne wanted to ask, but first things first. “I need to see if Leah can keep down some fluids. If she can’t, we’ll have to consider taking her to the nearest hospital.”
That would mean a long buggy ride in the dark. It wasn’t an emergency. An ambulance wasn’t needed. Anne glanced at Joseph to gauge his willingness to undertake such a task. He nodded his consent. “I will do what you think is best.”
He put the baby’s welfare above his own comfort. That was good. Her estimation of his character went up a notch. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ll put the wet sleeper in a plastic bag for you. It’s too small for her, anyway.”
“It’s the only clothing she has.” He gently rocked the child in his arms.
“Nothing else?”
“Nay, just diapers.”
“She’s been wearing the same sleeper for four days?”
His eyes flashed to Anne’s, a scowl darkening his brow. “I washed it.”
Why wouldn’t Leah’s mother leave him clothes for the child? That was odd and odder yet. A baby could go through a half-dozen changes a day between spitting up and messing their diapers. “I have some baby clothes you can take home with you. I buy them at yard sales and people give them to me so I have some for mothers who can’t afford clothing.” Not all of her mothers were Amish. She had delivered two dozen Englisch babies during her time in Honeysuckle. The clothes had come in handy for several of the poorer women.
Anne pulled open a lower cabinet door and gave Joseph a pink gown from her stash of baby clothes. She put several sleepers and T-shirts in a spare diaper bag for him, too.
He dressed Leah while Anne fixed a few ounces of electrolyte water in a bottle. When it was ready, Anne took Leah from him and settled in a rocker in the corner. He took a seat in a ladder-back chair on the opposite side of the room. He leaned forward and braced his massive arms on his thighs. Even seated, he took up more room than most men. Her office had never felt so cramped.
The baby sucked eagerly, clutching the bottle and holding it while watching Anne with wide blue eyes. Leah belched without spitting up and smiled around the rubber nipple, making Anne giggle. What a cutie she was with her big eyes and wispy blond hair.
Anne stole a glance at Joseph. He had flaxen hair, too, cut in the usual bowl style that Amish men wore. It was straight as wheat straw except for the permanent crease his hat made over his temples. His eyes weren’t blue, though. They were gray. As dark as winter storm clouds. When coupled with his dour expression, they were enough to chill the friendliest overture.
Not that she and Joseph were friendly neighbors. The only time she saw him other than church was when she was chasing after his miserable, escape-happy goats and trying to drive them out of her garden, while he was laughing at her from the other side of the fence. He didn’t laugh out loud, but she had seen the smirk on his face. She thought he secretly enjoyed watching her run after his animals. “How are your goats, Joseph?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Your goats. How are they? They haven’t been in my garden for days.”
A twitch at the corner of his mouth could have been the start of a smile, but she wasn’t sure. “They’re fine. I reckon they got tired of you flapping your apron or your towels at them and decided to stay home for a spell.”
“Or it could be because I fixed the hole in your fence.”
He looked surprised. “Did you? I’m grateful. I’ve been meaning to get to that. How is she doing?”
Anne looked at the quiet baby in her arms and smiled. The scowl on the baby’s face was gone. She blinked owlishly. “She’s trying to stay awake, but her eyelids are growing heavier by the minute. She seems fine right now. All we can do is wait and see if she keeps this down.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “At least she isn’t crying. It near broke my heart to listen to her.”
So he did have a heart, and a tender one, at that. Her estimation of his character went up another notch.
“You said this started this morning. Was there anything different? Do you think she could have put something in her mouth without you seeing it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Has there been a change in her food? Did you make sure and boil the water before mixing her formula?’ Most of the Amish farms had wells. Without testing, it was impossible to tell if the water was safe for an infant to drink. She always advised boiling well water.
“Ja. I followed the directions on the can I bought yesterday. Her mother left me some mixed bottles, but I went through them already. The can of powdered formula in the bag was nearly empty.”
“You bought a new can of formula? Did you get the same brand?” That might account for the upset stomach.
He shrugged. “I think so. Aren’t they all alike?”
“Not really.”
“She hasn’t spit up your fancy water. She seems fine now. Danki.”
Anne gazed tenderly at the babe in her arms. Babies were all so precious. Each and every one was a blessing. Times like this always brought a pang of pain to her heart. She wished her baby had survived. Even though she had been only seventeen and pregnant out of wedlock, she would have loved her little boy with all her heart.
But God had other plans for their lives. He’d called her son home before he had a chance to draw a breath here on earth. She didn’t understand it, but she had to follow the path He laid out even if it didn’t include motherhood.
She refused to feel sorry for herself. She would hold her son in Heaven when her time came. She loved her job as a midwife and she was grateful she could help bring new life into the world and comfort families when things went wrong. Her own tragedy left her well suited to understand a mother’s grief.
Anne stroked the baby’s cheek. “She does seem to be better, but let’s give it an hour or so before we celebrate.”
“One less hour of sleep is fine with me as long as you don’t mind.”
Anne looked up, surprised that he would consider her comfort when he looked as tired and worn out as she felt. She had never seen him looking so worried. “Where is Fannie? Why did she leave Leah with you?”
He was silent for so long that Anne thought he wasn’t going to tell her anything. He stared at his clasped hands and finally spoke. “Fannie brought the baby to me four days ago. She said she had to have surgery and couldn’t keep the child with her in the hospital. She asked me to watch her for a few days.”
“What about the baby’s father? Why couldn’t he watch the child?”
“He had to get to New York for a job interview.”
“Which hospital is she in?”
“She didn’t say. She’ll be back soon. Probably this morning.”
“It seems strange that she didn’t tell you which hospital she was going to. Did she leave a phone number or a way to contact her?”
He rose to his feet. “I should go. It’s not right that I’m here alone with you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. If the bishop hears of this, it could mean trouble for you. You have your reputation to protect.”
“I’m sure Bishop Andy would understand. You were only thinking of the baby.”
Speaking of the bishop reminded Anne of her regretful behavior toward Joseph. “I want to beg your forgiveness for my grave lapse in manners the other day. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m humiliated and so very sorry that I acted as I did. You would be within your rights to report me to the church elders for discipline.”
“It’s forgiven. The babe seems fine now. Danki. I should go home.” He reached for the baby, and Anne let him take her.
“Feed her the electrolyte water if she wakes up hungry again tonight. Tomorrow you can mix a little formula with it. One part milk to three parts water. If she tolerates that, mix it half and half for the next feeding.”
“I understand. Guten nacht, Anne. You’ve been a great help. I appreciate the loan of the clothes, too.”
“Tell Fannie she can keep them if she wants. Good night, Joseph,” Anne called after him, but he was already out the door.
Was he that concerned about her reputation or was he reluctant to answer any more questions about his sister? At least he had forgiven her for striking him. That was a relief. Shaking her head over the whole thing, Anne put out the lights and climbed the stairs to bed for what was left of her night.
Waking at her usual time, Anne fixed a pot of strong coffee and made her plans for the day. She didn’t have any mother’s visits scheduled, so her whole day could be devoted to getting her pumpkins up to her roadside stand. After two cups and some toast, she was ready to get to work.
Outside, she took her old wheelbarrow out to her patch and began loading it with ripe pumpkins. Her white ones and the traditional orange carving pumpkins were her bestsellers, but she did have a number of cooking pumpkins ready to be picked. She added three of them to the top of the heap in her wheelbarrow for her own use. Having planted a new cooking variety, she was anxious to see if they were as good as her tried-and-true heirloom ones.
A crooked front wheel made pushing the wheelbarrow a chore, but getting it fixed would have to wait. If she came out ahead on her produce stand this fall, she was definitely investing in a new pushcart. Leaving the barrow at the front steps, she carried her cooking pumpkins in and put them in the sink to be washed. She stood contemplating another cup of coffee when she heard someone shouting her name.
She opened the front door. Joseph came sprinting toward her with Leah in his arms.
Chapter Three (#ulink_cfd829b6-4b96-5071-9a00-e678674594e4)
“Joseph, what’s wrong?” Anne held the door wide for him.
He rushed inside looking frazzled and more exhausted than the last time she had seen him. “I did as you told me. She was fine the rest of the night. When I gave her some of the formula this morning, she threw up again and her face got all blotchy. Now she won’t stop crying.”
Anne could see that for herself. Joseph’s blue shirt had a large wet streak down the front. The unmistakable odor of sour milk emanated from him. Leah continued to wail. It was hard to tell if she was red in the face from crying or from something else. Anne began to suspect the child had an intolerance to milk.
She took the baby from him, sat down in a kitchen chair and unwrapped the blanket Leah was swaddled in. The baby was wearing the long pink gown that Anne had given Joe last night. She untied the ribbon from around the hem and pulled up the material, exposing Leah’s kicking legs and belly and more red blotches. Anne had seen this kind of reaction before and was almost sure she was right. “I think she may have an allergy to the formula.”
He shook his head. “I checked the can her mother gave me. It’s the same brand I got for her. How can a baby be allergic to milk?”
“Some babies just are.” It was possible the rash was from something else, but it seemed too coincidental that it appeared immediately after she’d had the formula. Anne needed more information.
Joseph ran a hand through his hair. “She can’t live on water.”
“Nay, she can’t.” Anne pulled the gown down and wrapped the blanket loosely around her. Lifting the baby to her shoulder, she patted the fussy child’s back until she quieted.
“Then what do I feed her?” Joseph sounded like a man at the end of his rope. Looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink, he raked a hand through his disheveled hair again. He hadn’t bothered putting on his hat. If Anne needed proof of how upset he was, she had it. Joseph never left his house without his straw hat unless it was to wear his black felt hat to Sunday services.
She shifted the baby to the crook of her arm. “You may need to switch her to a soy formula. I need to know what brand you gave her. It could be that you just need a different kind of milk.”
“I’ll get it.” He rushed out of the house, leaped off the porch without touching the steps and sprinted toward his home a few hundred yards to the south. Anne watched as he vaulted the fence at the edge of his property instead of using the gate and kept running. She didn’t know a man his size could move so fast.
She struggled not to laugh as she gazed at Leah. “You’re certainly showing me a different side of my neighbor. Do be kinder to the poor man. I think he’s having a hard time adjusting to you.”
It was clear that Joseph was deeply concerned about his niece and determined to do whatever it took to help her. Anne watched him rush into his house and wondered what else she would learn about Joseph Lapp while he cared for his niece.
Did his sister have any idea how much she had disrupted her brother’s life? Anne didn’t know Fannie, but she found it hard to picture anyone leaving a baby with Joseph, even for a few days. Still, his sister would know him better than Anne did. She’d seen him bottle-feeding young goats in his pen. Maybe he knew more about infants than she gave him credit for knowing.
Leah buried her face against Anne’s chest and began rubbing it back and forth. She whimpered and then started crying again, pulling Anne’s attention away from her thoughts of Joseph.
Anne stroked the baby’s head. “You poor little thing. That rash itches, doesn’t it? I have something I think will help.”
* * *
Joseph came sprinting into Anne’s house and skidded to a stop on her black-and-white-patterned linoleum. The baby had stopped screaming. Leah sat naked, splashing and giggling in a basin of water in the center of the kitchen table. Anne cooed to the child as she supported her and poured a cupful of the liquid over her slick little body. Leah wagged her arms up and down in delight.
He took a couple of gasping breaths and held out the cans. “This is what I gave her and this is what her mother left me.”
“Just set them on the table.” Anne didn’t even look at him. She was grinning foolishly at the baby and making silly noises. Leah seemed mesmerized by Anne’s mouth and the sounds she was making.
He put the new formula on the tabletop along with the empty can he’d pulled from the trash. Thankfully, he’d been too busy to burn his barrel yesterday. He dropped onto a chair as he waited for his racing heart to slow. It seemed his mad dash was for nothing. Both Anne and Leah were enjoying the bathing process. He soon noticed the communication they seemed to share.
Leah was attempting to mimic the shape of Anne’s mouth. When Anne opened her mouth wide, Leah did, too. When Anne pursed her lips together, Leah tried to imitate her. Although the baby couldn’t produce the sounds Anne was making, it was clear she was trying to do so. She flapped her arms in excitement.
After a few minutes, Joseph realized he was staring at Anne’s mouth, too. She had full red lips that tilted up slightly at the corners in a perpetual sweet smile. He liked her smile. He hadn’t paid much attention to her in the past but now he noticed her sable-brown hair glinted with gold highlights where it wasn’t covered by her white kapp. It was thick and healthy looking.
She was a little woman. The top of her head wouldn’t reach his chin even if she stood on tiptoe. Apple-cheeked and just a shade on the plump side, she had a cute button nose generously sprinkled with ginger freckles and wide owlish gray-green eyes. She wasn’t a beauty, but she had a sweet face. Why hadn’t he noticed that about her before? Maybe because he usually saw her when she was running after his goats, when she was furious.
He’d been leery when a single woman moved into the small house next to his. It had been an Englisch house before Anne bought it. It took her a while to convert it to meet their Amish rules, but the bishop had been tolerant of her progress because she was single.
She hadn’t set her sights on Joseph the way some of the single women in the community had over the years. He wasn’t the marrying kind. Apparently, Anne wasn’t the marrying kind, either. She had to be close to thirty, if not older. He’d never seen her walking out with any of the unwed men in their Plain community. The only fellow he’d seen hanging around her had been Micah Shetler. He was known as something of a flirt, but she’d never shown any interest in return and Micah had soon stopped coming around.
Anne minded her own business and let Joseph mind his. If it wasn’t for the traffic her produce stand brought in and her dislike of his goats, he would have said she was the perfect neighbor. She was proving to be a godsend today. He pulled his gaze away from her and concentrated on Leah. The baby looked happier than he’d seen her since she arrived. “She seems to be enjoying her bath.”
“I put some baking soda in the water to soothe her itching skin. It will help for a little while. Grab that towel for me, would you, please?” Anne lifted the baby from the water. Joseph jumped up and held the towel wide. He wrapped it around the baby when Anne handed her to him.
“Should I bathe her this way?” How much baking soda? How often? He didn’t want to show his ignorance, so he didn’t ask.
“If her rash doesn’t go away, you can. We need to find out what is causing the rash in the first place. I’m pretty sure she has an allergy to something.”
When he had the baby securely in his arms, Anne picked up the two formula cans. “This is odd.”
“Did I buy the wrong thing?”
“Nay, it’s nothing you did. This is soy formula. It’s often used for babies that are sensitive to cow’s milk–based formulas. I wish I could ask Fannie why Leah is on it. Was it her first choice, or did the baby have trouble with regular formula and so she switched her to soy? It’s puzzling.”
“What difference would it make?” He laid the baby and towel on the table and began drying her. She tried to stuff the fingers of both hands in her mouth.
“If Leah had trouble tolerating regular formula, there isn’t any point in giving her what I have on hand. Do you or Fannie have a milk allergy?”
“Not that I know of.”
Anne stepped up and took over the task of drying and dressing Leah. He happily stood aside.
Leah quickly became dissatisfied with her fingers and started fussing again. He glanced at Leah. “Have you more of that special water?”
“I do, but I think I want to try something else. Do you have any fresh goat’s milk?”
“Nay, the truck collected my milk yesterday evening. I haven’t milked yet this morning. Are you planning to give her goat’s milk?”
“It won’t hurt to try it.”
He had heard of babies being raised on goat’s milk, but he wouldn’t have thought of it. “I can bring you some fresh as soon as I catch a goat. How much do you need?”
“A quart to start with. I’ll have to cook it first. I don’t want to give her raw milk.”
He bristled at her insult. He ran a first-class dairy. “My goats have all been tested for disease and are healthy. I have a permit to sell raw milk and my operation is inspected regularly. I drank raw goat’s milk when I was growing up and it didn’t hurt me.”
She looked him up and down. “I can see it didn’t stunt your growth. I’m not questioning the sanitation of your dairy. I feel babies shouldn’t have raw cow or goat’s milk until they are much older than Leah is. I grew up drinking raw milk, too.”
“Cow’s milk? Maybe that’s what stunted your growth.”
“Very funny,” she snapped, but he detected a sparkle of humor in her eyes.
He folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t like my goats.”
“I’m sure they are wonderful animals.”
“My does are some of the finest milk producers in the state.”
“Joseph, I don’t have to like your goats to make a formula from their milk. Let’s hope Leah can tolerate it. Are you going to go catch a goat or do I have to?”
“I’ve seen you herd goats. You’d still be chasing them tomorrow. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Make sure you use a very clean container to put the milk in.”
He shook his head as he walked out of her house. If she knew anything about his work, she would know his pails were stainless steel and cleaned with soap, water and bleach twice a day. He took good care of his animals and his equipment. How could she live next door to him and not know that?
Maybe the same way he’d never noticed how pretty her smile was. He hadn’t been inclined to look closely. Until now.
As he crossed the ground between his house and Anne’s, he looked her property over with a critical eye. Some of the siding on her horse barn was loose and the paint was faded. It could use a new coat. The pile of manure outside the barn was overdue for spreading in the fields. Two of the vanes on her windmill clacked as they went around, proving they were loose, too.
He hadn’t noticed things were slipping into disrepair for her. He hadn’t been a very good neighbor. They were all things he could fix in a day or two. As soon as Fannie came for Leah, he would see to the repairs as a way to thank Anne for her kindness to the baby. It was the least he could do.
When Fannie came back.
She would be back. She was later than she’d said she would be, but he was sure she had a good reason. He just wished he knew what it was. Why hadn’t she contacted him? He’d checked the answering machine in the community phone booth out by the highway twice a day for the past two days. He knew she had that number.
Her whispered words, the memory of her tearful face in the car window had flashed into his mind when she didn’t return as promised. The pain and sorrow he had seen in her eyes gave rise to a new doubt in his mind. Had she abandoned her child with him? Each passing hour without word made him worry that she might have done so. It wasn’t right to suspect her of such a thing, but the doubts wouldn’t be silenced.
As always, his goats were happy to see him and frolicked in their pens as he approached. In spite of what Anne thought, his goats were all as tame as kittens. They came when he called them, with Matilda, the oldest female, leading all the others in a group behind her. He selected Jenny from the milling animals and opened the gate leading to his milking barn.
“Jenny, up you go.”
The brown-and-black doe knew the routine. She trotted up the ramp onto the waist-high platform and put her head in the stanchion. He gave her a handful of alfalfa hay and closed the bar that would keep her from pulling her head out if she was finished eating before he was finished milking her. He didn’t bother hooking her to his milking machine. His church allowed the limited use of electricity in some Amish businesses such as Joseph’s dairy. The electric milking machines and refrigeration allowed him to sell his milk as Grade A to Englisch customers for more money. Today he milked Jenny by hand. In less than five minutes, he had a frothing pailful of milk.
After giving Jenny a quick scratch behind the ear to let her know he was pleased, he opened the head lock and allowed her to rejoin the herd. Holding the pail high, he waded through the group of younger goats vying for his attention and went out the gate before making sure it was latched securely. They bleated until he was out of sight.
The sound of a car on the road caught his attention. He looked hopefully toward the end of his lane, but it was only the mailman. The white truck stopped at Joseph’s box.
Maybe there would be a letter from his sister explaining everything. He put down the pail and strode toward his mailbox at the end of the drive. He refused to think about how many times he’d made this trip praying to find a missive from her in the past. She didn’t have a baby then. She had to be concerned about her child.
The mail carrier drove away before Joseph reached him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t in the mood to visit with the talkative fellow. Opening his mailbox, Joseph pulled out a bundle of envelopes and flyers. Leafing through them, he found they were advertisements and junk mail until he reached the final envelope.
Immediately, he recognized his sister’s handwriting, although he hadn’t seen it in years. The letter was addressed to Joe Lapp. For some reason, she insisted on calling him Joe, when no one else did. Relieved, he tore open the letter and asked God’s forgiveness for doubting his sister. As he read, his relief turned to disbelief.
* * *
When Joseph entered Anne’s kitchen, he presented the pail of milk to her without a word. He had a strange dejected look on his face. Had one of his beloved goats kicked him? Knowing how much he’d been through, she decided not to tease him about it.
She gave him the baby to hold and took the pail to her stove. Their Amish church allowed members to use propane-powered appliances in the home. Her hot-water heater, refrigerator, washer, stove and some of her lighting all ran off propane.
Anne transferred the milk to a large kettle. “It will take a while to heat this through. She got fussy when you left, so I gave her some more electrolyte solution. I can bring the formula to your house when I’m finished.”
Anne glanced at him. He held Leah close, gazing intently at her face. He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and sniffed.
“Is something wrong, Joseph?”
“Nay.”
She could see that wasn’t true, but she didn’t press him. She glanced covertly at him as she went back to measuring and mixing ingredients together. She referred frequently to a paper on the counter beside her. Her mother had come up with a goat’s milk formula years earlier after consulting with a local doctor. Anne was grateful for her mother’s thorough record keeping. She added molasses to a glass measuring cup that held a small amount of coconut oil. It didn’t look appetizing. “Have you had breakfast, Joseph?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. You go ahead.”
She looked his way and noticed he was staring at her concoction. She grinned. “This isn’t breakfast, but I could make you some eggs. There is still some coffee in the pot, too.”
“Just the coffe sounds good. What is it that you’re making?”
“Formula.”
“I thought you were going to give her the goat’s milk.”
“I am. Goat’s milk is perfect for baby goats, but it is lacking some things that a human baby needs. I don’t have all the ingredients here, but if she tolerates this milk, I can give you a list of things you’ll have to buy.”
“Like what?”
“Liquid whey. Molasses or Grade B maple syrup. Cod liver oil and extra-virgin olive oil plus coconut oil and liquid vitamins. There are a few other things, as well.”
His frown deepened. “How often will I have to do all this?”
“Every other day at least. The milk needs to be fresh, but it can be kept refrigerated for two days. What I’m making now will last through today unless Leah can’t tolerate it. You said Fannie would be back today, didn’t you? Send her over when she comes to pick up the baby, and I’ll show her how it’s made.”
“You had best show me how to do it. I’ll be the one taking care of her from now on.”
Confused, Anne turned to him. “What about her mudder? Isn’t she coming? What’s happened?”
Chapter Four (#ulink_47dbff5e-6bc7-5719-8d8a-f32503e44f5c)
The anguish on Joseph’s face told Anne something was very wrong. She watched him struggle to compose himself. What had happened to his sister?
He sank onto one of her chairs and gazed at the baby for a long time. Finally, he whispered, “Your mudder is not coming.”
“She’s not coming today?” Anne waited for him to elaborate.
He shook his head. “She’s not coming back at all.”
Anne cupped a hand over her mouth as a horrible thought occurred to her. “She died?”
“Nay, but that would be easier to explain.”
“Please, Joseph, tell me what has happened.”
“Fannie lied to me.”
Anne took a seat beside him. “In what way did she lie?”
“When she left Leah with me, she said it would only be for a day or two. She deliberately lied to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
He pulled a letter from his coat pocket. “This came in the mail this morning. It’s from Fannie. I was happy when I saw it. I thought it would explain why she was late returning. Instead, she wrote that she didn’t have surgery. That was a lie she made up to get me to keep Leah. Fannie was going to New York City with Johnny. She said her baby was better off growing up in the country rather than in the city.”
“Oh, Joseph, I’m so sorry.” It was clear he was hurting and she didn’t know how to help.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. “What kind of mother would do that? I tried to raise my sister to be a God-fearing woman of faith, but I failed. I don’t know what I did wrong. I knew my duty. I kept us fed and together with a roof over our heads. I dried her tears. I took her to church. I made sure she said her prayers. Then she does this, and I think I never knew her at all.”
He put the letter away and adjusted the blanket so it wasn’t covering Leah’s mouth. “Why couldn’t she be happy among us? Is this life so terrible?”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “We can’t know what is in another person’s mind or the reasons why they behave as they do, unless they share that with us.” Her heart ached for the pain he was going through. He had suffered a terrible betrayal of trust.
“How can I raise another child after I failed 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 pots of mums in a rainbow of colors. She had a green thumb, it seemed. He was unloading the wheelbarrow when a silver car pulled up beside him.
The window rolled down, and the woman driver spoke. “How much are the white pumpkins?”
He wanted to ignore her, but it wouldn’t be right to offend one of Anne’s customers. He looked around for a sign or price list but didn’t see one. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just delivering these. The woman who runs the place will be here shortly.”
“I can’t wait. What if I gave you twenty dollars for three of them? Would that be enough?”
If the woman drove away, Anne wouldn’t get anything. Hoping he was making the right decision, he nodded. “I reckon it would.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll take the three large ones in your wheelbarrow.” The trunk of her car lifted. She got out and offered him the bill. Joseph pocketed the money, loaded her pumpkins and then walked away quickly before he had to deal with anyone else.
His milking goats were lined up along the fence watching for him and bleating. They knew something was up. He was never this late with the milking. He waded through them and opened the gate that led to the milking parlor. The first dozen goats hurried through, and he shut the gate after them, stopping the rest. He could milk only twelve at a time. The others would have to wait their turn.
Inside the barn, the animals went up the waist-high ramp and followed each other to their places. He latched the stanchions around each of them and put their feed in the trays in front of them. When they were happily munching, he jumped down off the platform and moved to clean and dry the udder of each doe and attach the suction nozzles. As he did so, he examined each animal, looking for signs of injury or illness. When he was sure they were all sound, he turned on the machine and began the milking process. The milk flowed from the animals through clear plastic hoses to a collection tank that would keep the fresh milk refrigerated until a truck arrived and collected it three times a week. Joining a co-op of goat dairy farmers had allowed him to increase the size of his herd and have a steady market for his milk. He was almost at the point that he could afford to expand the herd again, but one man could only do so much.
Joseph went through his chores without really thinking about them. His mind was still focused on Fannie. How could she have left her baby? Why had she done it? Was a child that much of a hindrance to the career she wanted, or was there another reason she wanted him to keep Leah?
I’m desperate, Joe. She will be safe with you. I won’t worry about her for a single minute. Please. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s what’s best for her.
What did his sister’s words mean? Were they simply part of the lie she had concocted, or had she meant them? Shaking his head, he had to admit that his sister had become a stranger. He no longer knew what to believe.
Try as he might, he didn’t see a way he could care for Leah alone. Not while she was so little. He was out of the house from sunup to sunset most days. Even with electric milking machines, milking eighty goats twice a day took hours. Besides his goats, he had a small farm to run. Growing his own feed reduced his milk production costs and made sure his animals received the best nutrition possible. With winter approaching, he wouldn’t need to spend time in the fields, but this was when he caught up on equipment repairs and got ready for the spring kidding season. What would he do with the baby when he was out in the pastures all day and all night when the does were birthing? He couldn’t be in two places at once. It would be different if he had a full-time helper. Or a wife.
He glanced out the barn window toward Anne’s house. She said she would help him. Had she meant only today, or would she be willing to do more? He wouldn’t know unless he asked, but he wasn’t sure he should.
After finishing the milking, he returned to Anne’s house. He pulled the twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. “I sold three of your white pumpkins to a woman when I took your wheelbarrow up there. I didn’t know how much they were. When she offered this, I took it because she couldn’t wait.”
“That’s fine. A little more than I would have asked, but I’m not complaining. Danki.”
He looked around the room. “Where is Leah?”
“Sleeping. I made a bed for her in the other room. I’ll show you.” She led the way to her office, where she had lined a large plastic laundry hamper with a quilt. Leah lay on her back making tiny sucking motions with her mouth. A trickle of drool glistened on her chin.
Joseph squatted on his heels beside the basket. He couldn’t believe the difference between the screaming child he had shoved at Anne and this little dear. “She liked the milk?”
Anne smiled. “She loved it. I mixed it half and half with the electrolyte water just so it wasn’t such a drastic change for her. Sometimes switching to a new formula can upset a baby’s tummy unless you do it gradually. She hasn’t spit up or fussed since she finished her bottle.”
He breathed a quick prayer of thanks that Leah wasn’t screaming or hurting. He was more grateful than ever for Anne’s knowledge and skill. “You have worked a wonder here.”
“I’m glad she tolerated the goat’s milk. I had no idea what to try next if she didn’t. We would have had to take her to see a doctor.”
Now was the time to see how much Anne was willing to do for Leah. Rising to his feet, Joseph hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and took a deep breath. “I have a proposal for you, Anne Stoltzfus.”
Chapter Five (#ulink_982d885c-eedf-50b3-bbbb-19647702dbb1)
“I’m listening,” Anne responded, waiting for Joseph to explain his odd statement.
A proposal. What did that mean? Was he going to ask her to take Leah again? Anne hardened her resolve. As much as she liked the babe, she couldn’t be Leah’s mother. What if something happened to her? The thought scared Anne to death.
Joseph shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I will help you get your fields harvested and fix what needs fixing around the farm in exchange for your help with Leah.”
She folded her arms. “Exactly what kind of help?”
“Like a mother would do.”
“I’ve already said I won’t keep her.”
“Nay, you mistake my meaning. Like a kindt heedah. Feed her, bathe her, watch her while I’m working.”
“You mean you will harvest my pumpkin crop if I will be Leah’s nanny?”
“Ja. That is what I want. Would you accept such a bargain?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think it over.”
It was a tempting proposal. Hauling her large pumpkins out of the field was backbreaking work. Some of them weighed over twenty pounds. As strong as Joseph was, he could do it easily. He could probably carry one under each arm and one in his teeth and still push a loaded wheelbarrow. She had only another week to get them all picked unless an early freeze hit, then she wouldn’t have anything to harvest. His help would be a blessing.
But taking care of an infant? What would she be getting herself into? She had a produce business to run. She had mothers coming for prenatal and postnatal appointments. There was no telling when an expectant father would show up wanting her to come deliver a baby. She had three mothers due before Thanksgiving. What would she do with Leah then? Run her back to Joseph’s home? Amish women didn’t call for the midwife until they were ready to give birth. She wouldn’t have time to waste.
Still, the idea of Joseph raising Leah alone was as hard to imagine as her raising his goats. If she agreed to his proposal, she would be able to keep an eye on the baby, make sure she was thriving. The big question was, could she do it without becoming too attached to Leah?
The memory of losing her baby lingered in the back of her mind. Loving a child meant risking heartbreak. She shook her head.
Joseph sighed deeply. “You don’t want the job. I understand. May I take your laundry basket with me until I can get a crib for her?”
“What has she been sleeping in?”
“A cardboard box that I lined with a blanket.”
“Of course you can use my basket. I’m sure the church will provide the things you need when they learn of your situation.”
He picked up the hamper. “I can make do without their help. I will manage until Fannie comes back.”
Anne frowned and tipped her head slightly. “I thought the letter said she wasn’t coming back.”
His face turned stoic. “She will. She’ll see what a mistake she has made and she’ll be back. I know my sister.”
Anne held her tongue. She wasn’t so sure. She fetched a half-dozen bottles of milk she had made from the refrigerator. “These pink bottles are half milk and half my fancy water. The rest are plain goat’s milk formula. If she keeps the first ones down, give her full-strength milk tonight.”
“Will you write down the recipe for me if she does well on this?”
Anne’s conscience pricked her. She wasn’t doing enough to help him. She could tell by the look on his face that he was unsure of himself. It had to be confusing and frightening for a bachelor to suddenly find he was in charge of a baby. “I’ll make all the formula for you if you bring me fresh milk every other day.”
“Danki. I’m not much of a hand at cooking.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I appreciate all the help you’ve given me.”
“You’re willkomm.”
He walked out with Leah in the basket. Anne closed the door behind him, determined not to feel that she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t accept his offer of a job. She delivered babies. She didn’t raise them. What she did raise was produce. And right now her stand was unattended.
While most people knew they could leave their money in her tin can and take the pumpkins or the vegetables that they wanted, some Englischers would simply drive by if no one was minding the stand. She needed to get up to the road. The last two weeks of October were her biggest sale days. Today, Saturday, would be especially busy.
She grabbed a sweater from the hook beside the door and walked out into the chilly morning. The smell of autumn was in the air as the wind blew fallen leaves helter-skelter down the lane in front of her. The good Lord had blessed her with a bountiful crop and kept the heavy frost at bay. Only He knew how much longer the good weather would last.
Her pumpkins were larger than usual this year and thick under the still-green leaves in the field, but a hard frost would put an end to all of them. She said a quick prayer for continued favorable weather and walked quickly toward the small open-fronted shack she had built at the edge of her property.
If her land had fronted a busy highway, she would have seen more business, but the village of Honeysuckle was small and off the main state roads, so traffic was generally light. Her idea to post a sign out by the highway was paying off, though. She’d had twice as many customers this fall as last. Only Joseph had complained about the increase in cars on the road.
A horse and gray buggy sat parked beside her stand when she reached it. Anne immediately recognized the animal and looked for the owner. Dinah Plank was inside the shack inspecting some of Anne’s white pumpkins displayed in a wooden crate. Anne called to her, “Morning, Dinah.”
“Wee gayt’s,” Dinah answered with a wave. “A good day to you, too. I thought you would be in town at the farmers’ market, selling your produce there.”
“I took a load of vegetable and pumpkins in yesterday and Harvey Zook’s boy is selling them for me. I thought it might be better to be open at both places today.”
“Goot thinking.”
“Can I help you find something?” Anne smiled at her friend. Barely five feet tall, the cheerful plump widow was an energetic gray-haired woman. Dinah lived in Honeysuckle above the Beachy Craft Shop, where she worked for Anne’s friend Ellen Beachy. Soon to be Ellen Shetler. The wedding was planned for the first Thursday in November.
Dinah picked up a creamy white pumpkin and thumped it. “I wanted to make a few pies for Ellen’s wedding. There’s nothing like the taste of a warm pumpkin pie fresh out of the oven piled high with whipped cream. I get hungry just thinking about it.”
“I agree. You will want some of my heirloom cooking pumpkins for that. They make the best pies.” Anne gestured toward a smaller crate inside her stand.
“What about these white pumpkins?”
“I’ve tried them and they are okay, but I don’t think they have as much flavor.”
“I’ll be sure and tell my friends as much. Naomi wanted to try some whites.”
Naomi Beiler, the widow of their church’s former bishop, was the unofficial leader of the local widows’ group. The group planned benefit suppers and the like for people in need within their Amish community. They had recently held a haystack supper to raise funds for Mary and David Blauch after their son was born prematurely. The baby had had to be hospitalized for several months and the couple faced a huge medical bill. The Amish didn’t carry health insurance but depended on the rest of the community to aid them in times of need. If their local church wasn’t able to cover the cost, a plea would go out to neighboring churches to help. The way everyone looked out for each other was one of the most comforting things about living in an Amish community.
Anne thought about Joseph and Leah. Joseph didn’t feel he needed outside help, but Anne knew he did. “Will you be seeing Naomi this morning?”
On most Saturdays, Dinah went early to the farmers’ market in town, where she met friends from her widows’ club for breakfast. “I think so. Why?” Dinah cocked her head to the side.
“I have a small project I’d like help with. Joseph Lapp’s sister recently paid him a visit and left her infant daughter with him.”
“What?” Dinah’s eyes widened behind her glasses and her mouth dropped open. “He’s a bachelor.”
“Exactly. He has nothing for the child. No crib, no bottles, only a few things he borrowed from me.”
“What is his sister thinking? How long is he going to have the child?”
“I wish I knew. She may not be back.”
“How sad. Fannie has been out in the Englisch world a long time. It must be three years now. You never met her, did you?”
Anne shook her head. “She left before I moved here. Joseph has lived alone for as long as I’ve known him.”
“I’m sure he isn’t an easy neighbor to get along with. He’s not a friendly fellow.”
“We’d get along better if he kept his fences fixed. He came over three weeks ago to tell me my produce stand was bringing too many cars down the road.”
“I can see why that would bother him. His parents and the girl he planned to marry were all killed when a truck struck their buggy right at the end of his lane. Joseph and Fannie were thrown clear with barely a scratch. It was very sad.”
Anne’s heart contracted in sympathy. “I didn’t know.”
“It was Gottes will.”
All things were the will of God, but knowing that didn’t dull the pain of losing a loved one. Anne tried to imagine Joseph as a brokenhearted young man. “Was she a local girl?”
“Her family lives near Bird-in-Hand. She was the eldest daughter. I’ll speak to Naomi, but all we need to do is talk to a few of the mothers at church tomorrow and ask for donations of baby items. I know my daughters-in-law have clothing they can spare. How old is the child?”
“About four months.”
“I can pick up some formula for her in town today and bring it by this evening.”
“That won’t be necessary. It appears that Leah has a milk allergy. We are giving her goat’s milk.”
Dinah chuckled. “Joseph should have plenty of that. How many goats does he have these days?”
“I have never tried to count. All I do is shoo them out of my garden.”
“Looking at all these pumpkins, I’d say you’ve done a good job of keeping them away. I’ll take six of your best cooking ones, and I’ll share your concerns about Joseph’s niece with my friends. I’m sure we can come up with the things he needs. Who is watching the child while he is out working with his goats and in the fields?”
“No one. He wanted to hire me as a nanny, but I said no.”
“Why? I would think taking care of a baby would be your cup of tea.”
Anne turned and began rearranging the gourds she had on display. “Of course I like babies, but...I don’t know. I’m busy with the stand. Besides, I could get called out for a delivery at any time. It would be hard to have a baby underfoot.”
“I see.” Dinah didn’t sound convinced. Anne glanced her way. The sharp-eyed little woman didn’t look convinced, either.
Sighing heavily, Anne folded her arms and admitted the truth. “I’m afraid I would become too attached to her. She is an adorable bubbel. I may never have children of my own and caring for someone else’s child every day would be a reminder of that.”
“Sounds as if you are already attached to her.”
“Nay, I’m simply worried Joseph won’t be able to take care of her.”
“Then you should find someone to be the kindt heedah. You must know of several girls who would do well at that.”
“I can’t think of anyone offhand. Who could get along with Joseph? He is an odd fellow.”
Dinah chuckled. “I’ll check around and give him a few names tomorrow after the prayer service.”
“That is a fine idea. I’ll tell Joseph.” It was a good solution. Leah needed someone to look after her and Joseph could easily find someone. It didn’t have to be her. Then she could stop worrying about them both.
After a busy day at her produce stand, Anne made her way home. The western sky was ablaze with purple, pink and gold-tinged clouds fanned out along the horizon. The air had a decided nip in it as the day cooled. She hoped it wouldn’t freeze tonight.
She pulled her sweater close and hurried up the steps, but she stopped on the porch and glanced toward Joseph’s house before she went inside. She cocked her head in that direction, but she didn’t hear any crying. How was Leah tolerating her goat’s milk? The question had been at the forefront of Anne’s mind all day.
“At least he didn’t come running over. She must be doing alright.”
Anne shook her head. Now she was talking to herself. It was not a good sign. If she was going to sleep a wink tonight, she would have to see for herself that the baby was doing better.
Crossing the strip of brown grass that bordered her flower garden, Anne paused at the gate between her place and Joseph’s. Was there really a reason to go to his door? If he needed her, he would come and get her. He had already proven that. Anne bit the corner of her lip.
“Checking on them is the neighborly thing to do.” As Anne battled her indecision, she saw a light come on in his barn. He was with his goats. Where was Leah?
Anne took a deep breath. She would just ask about the baby and leave. Before she could go any farther, the light went off. She waited a few moments. He appeared at the barn door with her laundry basket in his hands. It seemed Leah would learn about goats from the cradle.
He caught sight of Anne and stopped. After a brief pause, he headed toward her.
“How did she do?” Anne asked when he was close enough.
He stopped at the fence and rested the basket on the top board. “She did fine. Slept most of the day. The rash is gone. Danki.”
Anne peered in the basket. Leah lay with her eyes closed, but she was making tiny sucking motions with her lips and then smiling in her sleep. Anne’s heart turned over. She touched the baby’s soft hair. “She’s dreaming about her bottle.”
“You solved her problem. I’m grateful.”
Anne drew her hand back and clenched her fingers together. “I saw Dinah Plank this morning. She thinks she can find a nanny for you. She said she would give you a few names tomorrow after church.”
“I don’t need anyone. Leah sleeps while I work.”
“She won’t sleep this much for long. Then what?”
He scowled and lifted the basket off the fence. “Then she will be awake while I work. We’ll be fine until my sister returns. Do not concern yourself with us. Guten nacht,” he said sharply and turned away.
Anne watched him walk off and wished she had another fresh tomato at hand. First he wanted her help and now he didn’t. He was the most irritating man she’d ever met.
Chapter Six (#ulink_3041a7e3-782c-592f-a449-0812d13a8a2d)
Anne drew several stern looks from Naomi Beiler during the three-hour-long church service on Sunday morning. She tried to concentrate on the hymns sung, on her prayers and on the preaching, but she couldn’t. Joseph wasn’t among the worshippers.
Where was he? What was wrong? Was Leah okay?
Anne glanced over again, covertly checking the rows of men seated on the backless benches across the aisle. Joseph’s size made him a hard man to miss. Although there were close to fifty men and boys all dressed in dark coats and pants with their heads bowed, she knew she could pick him out easily. He simply wasn’t there.
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Patricia Davids
An Unexpected FamilyAmish midwife Anne Stoltzfus is used to late-night visitors—but she's shocked to find reclusive bachelor Joseph Lapp on her doorstep with a baby in his arms. Their neighborly quarrels are pushed aside when Joseph explains that his sister has left her daughter in his care—and Joseph needs Anne to be her nanny. Soon they're bonding over baby Leah, and the love they feel for her is healing them both. When Joseph makes an offer of marriage, Anne's painful past resurfaces and she's unsure of what to do. But taking a chance could mean love—and family—are waiting just across the fence.Lancaster Courtships: Life and love in Amish countryCollect all 3 book in the series!The Amish Bride by Emme MillerThe Amish Mother by Rebecca KertzThe Amish Midwife by Patricia Davids
An Unexpected Family
Amish midwife Anne Stoltzfus is used to late-night visitors—but she’s shocked to find reclusive bachelor Joseph Lapp on her doorstep with a baby in his arms. Their neighborly quarrels are pushed aside when Joseph explains that his sister has left her daughter in his care—and Joseph needs Anne to be her nanny. Soon they’re bonding over baby Leah, and the love they feel for her is healing them both. When Joseph makes an offer of marriage, Anne’s painful past resurfaces and she’s unsure of what to do. But taking a chance could mean love—and family—are waiting just across the fence.
“I’m taking the baby for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Nay, this isn’t right. She’s my responsibility.”
“Don’t be stubborn and prideful, Joseph. Baby Leah is going to spend the day with me, and when you come to pick her up, we’ll talk about my salary.”
“What salary?” He couldn’t keep up with her conversational jumps. His mind was a complete fog.
“The one you will pay me to be Leah’s nanny.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do that.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll see you later. Have a nice rest. I suggest you lie down on the sofa. That way your neck won’t be so stiff.”
He opened his mouth to reply. There was some argument he needed to make, but he couldn’t summon the wits to figure out what it was. He heard the door close, and silence filled the house. Blessed silence.
Leah was being looked after. Anne could take care of her better than he could.
Anne with the sweet laugh and funny smile who hated his goats and threw tomatoes at him.
After thirty-five years as a nurse, PATRICIA DAVIDS hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her online at patriciadavids.com (http://www.patriciadavids.com).
The Amish
Midwife
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Patricia Davids
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Therefore God dealt well with the midwives:
and the people multiplied, and waxed very mighty.
—Exodus 1:20
This book is dedicated with great respect to my nephew’s wife, Terrah Stroda, a nurse midwife, wife and mother. She has seen the works of God as few people do. May He continue to bless her and her family. I wish to thank my brother, Greg Stroda, for his invaluable information on pumpkin farming. Thanks, bro. Couldn’t have done this without you. And I want to extend a special thanks to Te’Coa Seibert for letting me tour her goat dairy and meet her remarkable animals up close. They were too cute. And the fresh cheese was great!
Contents
Cover (#uc213a6ca-3cc0-5719-aee3-aee60d16f05c)
Back Cover Text (#u273e52c2-bb74-5d8f-ae13-17f4a90528c8)
Introduction (#ub911aa36-d08b-59cd-a5b3-4f1d86701bf6)
About the Author (#ub5f7f2a4-8e53-5df4-aebe-494d84ebcb42)
Title Page (#u465e2870-05ac-5e8d-8060-f8b699cda291)
Bible Verse (#u7f9971e1-2f19-5e5c-98f7-cfd70b10f8d5)
Dedication (#u459bf5b9-683d-541a-bdd1-ec522733cef7)
Chapter One (#uc11f99ae-e4cd-501f-a610-f0bccf1151d8)
Chapter Two (#u31c2b665-42a0-5c46-afbf-e50d3ad2a47f)
Chapter Three (#u146b5052-d098-51d9-b0dc-f7edd02dda9e)
Chapter Four (#ub67759b8-5771-5675-a57a-b8a263794332)
Chapter Five (#ud6460f40-8c7e-53ab-b5c7-79af811b2d3d)
Chapter Six (#u9d933dcf-9c92-5d01-90f7-90955ebb9af6)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_8d6bd7f2-2409-576e-a1af-7abbcaeaf2fa)
“You miserable alt gayse. Oh, no, you don’t. Not again!” Anne Stoltzfus shot to her feet when she spotted the intruder working his way under the fence beyond her red barn. She stepped closer to the kitchen window. He was almost through.
“What’s wrong?” Roxann Shield remained seated at Anne’s kitchen table, her eyes wide with concern.
“It’s Joseph Lapp’s old goat. He’s getting into my garden. I’m not going to lose the last of my precious tomatoes or another prized pumpkin to that thief.”
Anne dashed out into the cool morning. Flying down the steps, she raced toward the rickety fence separating her garden plots from her cantankerous neighbor’s farm, yelling as she ran. “Out! Get out of there!”
Her nemesis was halfway under the fence when she reached him. Armed with only a kitchen towel, she flew into battle, flapping her weapon in the black-and-brown billy goat’s face. The culprit tried to retreat, but his curved horns snagged in the sagging wire. The more he struggled to escape her attack, the more tangled he became. He bleated his misery as loud as he could.
Anne stopped flapping when she recognized his dilemma. He couldn’t go forward and he couldn’t go back. She rested her hands on her hips as she scowled at him. She heard laughter behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Roxann doubled over with mirth on her front steps.
Anne turned her attention back to the goat. “I should leave you here. It would serve you right to spend the night with your head stuck in the fence.”
Feeling sorry for the goat was the last thing she wanted to do, but he did appear miserable sprawled on his belly with his head cocked at an awkward angle. His eyes were wide with fear and his mouth hung open. She looked about for his owner, but Joseph Lapp was nowhere to be seen. Of course he wasn’t. Trust her neighbor to be absent when his animal was misbehaving. That was usually the case.
How many times had his goats managed to get in her garden and eat her crops? More than she cared to count. More than she could afford to lose. Each time she drove them out, she bit her tongue to keep from telling Joseph Lapp exactly what she thought of his smelly horde. Her Amish faith required that she forgive grievances, but enough was enough. If the man didn’t repair his fences soon, she was going to have a word with Bishop Andy about Joseph’s poor stewardship. She didn’t want to cause trouble, but she was tired of being on the losing end of the situation.
However satisfying a conversation with the bishop might be, it didn’t solve her current problem. The goat continued bleating pitifully. A number of other goats looked over their pens to see what was going on. Anne waited for Joseph to appear, but he didn’t. She studied the billy goat for a long moment.
“If you are to be free, I reckon I’ll have to do it. Remember this kindness and stay out of my garden.”
“Be careful,” Roxann called out.
Crouching in front of the goat, Anne put her hand on his head and pushed down so she could untangle his horns. She wrinkled her nose at his stench. Why did he smell so bad? If she had a garden hose handy, she would bathe him before she let him up. Maybe that would deter him from visiting next time. He struggled harder but she was only able to unhook one horn. “Hold still, you wicked animal.”
Suddenly, the goat surged forward. His second horn popped free and he made a break for it, barreling into Anne. The impact toppled her backward into her precious tomato plants. Although it was mid-October, the vines still bore huge red fruit, the very last of the summer’s bounty and a sure cash crop at her produce stand. She sat in openmouthed shock as the feeling of squished tomatoes beneath her soaked through her dress. So much for a goat’s gratitude.
She shook her fist at him. “You miserable, ungrateful beast!”
“Do you need a hand?”
The mildly amused voice came from the far side of the fence. Joseph Lapp stood with his arms crossed on his chest and one hand cupped over his mouth.
He was a tall, brawny man with wide shoulders and muscular arms. A straw hat pulled low on his brow covered his light blond hair. The wide brim cast a shadow across his gray eyes, but she knew he was laughing at her. Again. They rarely shared a conversation, but he was always finding some amusement at her expense. Did he enjoy seeing her suffer?
She scrambled to her feet. “I don’t need a hand. I need you to keep your goats out of my garden. Unless you keep them in, I’m going to complain to the bishop.”
Joseph walked to the gate between their properties a few yards away and opened it. “Do what you must. Chester, koom.”
The billy goat snatched a mouthful of pumpkin leaves and trotted toward the gate. He walked placidly through the opening, but Anne saw the gleam in his beady black eyes when he looked over his shoulder at her. He would be back. Well, she wouldn’t be so kind to him next time. It wouldn’t be a kitchen towel. She’d find a stout stick.
Joseph closed and latched the gate. “I will pay for the tomatoes. Just throw the ruined ones over the fence.”
She brushed off her stained maroon dress and glared at him. “I’m not going to reward that mangy animal with my fresh tomatoes, even if they are ruined. He’ll only come back wanting more.”
“Suit yourself. If I can’t have them, I won’t pay for them.”
“Are you serious?” Her mouth dropped open in shock. She took a step toward him and planted her bare foot in another tomato. The pulp oozed between her toes.
“You sat on them. Chester didn’t.” Joseph turned to walk away.
Furious, Anne plucked the closest whole tomato and threw it with all her might. It hit Joseph squarely between the shoulder blades, splattering in a bright red blob where his suspenders crossed his white shirt.
Horrified, she pressed her hands to her mouth. She had actually hit the man.
Joseph flexed his shoulders. Bits of broken tomato dropped to the ground. Chester jumped on the treats and gobbled them up. Joseph turned to glare at Anne.
She didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. She fled to the house as fast as her shaky legs could carry her. She dashed past Roxann and stopped in the center of her kitchen with her hands pressed to her cheeks.
“What a great throw.” Roxann came in, still chuckling. “Did you see the look on his face?”
“In all the years I played baseball as a kinner, no one wanted me on their team. I couldn’t hit the broad side of the barn when I threw a ball. But today I struck my neighbor.”
“You didn’t hurt him with a tomato.”
“You don’t understand.” How could she? Roxann was Englisch. She didn’t have to live by the strict rules of Anne’s Amish faith.
Roxann stopped giggling. “Will you get into trouble for it? I know the Amish practice nonviolence, but you weren’t trying to hurt him.”
“I struck him in anger. That is not permitted. Ever. If Joseph goes to the bishop or to the church elders, it will be cause for a scandal. I’m so ashamed.”
Roxann slipped her arm over Anne’s shoulder. “I’m sure Mr. Lapp will forgive you. You are only human. Put it out of your mind and let’s finish these reports. You and the other Amish midwives are doing a wonderful job. Your statistics will help me show the administration at my hospital that our outreach education program is paying off. Our funding is running out soon. If we’re going to continue educating midwives and the public, we have to prove the benefits outweigh the cost.”
Roxann, a nurse-midwife and educator, was determined to improve relations between the medical community and the Amish midwives, who were considered by some doctors to be unskilled and untrained. It was far from the truth.
Anne allowed her mentor and friend to lead her back to the table and resume the review of Anne’s cases for the year. Glancing out the kitchen window, Anne looked for Joseph, but he wasn’t in sight. She nibbled on her bottom lip. Was he going to make trouble for her?
* * *
A full harvest moon, a bright orange ball the color of Anne’s pumpkins, was creeping over the hills to the east. The sight made Joseph smile as he closed the barn door after finishing his evening milking. It had been two days since the tomato incident, but he still found himself chuckling at the look on Anne’s face when she’d realized what she’d done. From shock to horror to mortification, her expressive features had displayed it all. She might be an annoying little woman, but she did provide him with some entertainment. Especially where his goats were concerned. Her plump cheeks would flush bright red and her green-gray eyes would flash with green fire when she chased his animals. She was no match against their nimbleness, but that didn’t keep her from trying.
Goats enjoyed getting out of their pens. Some of them were masters of the skill. Was it his fault that the best forage around was in her garden plot?
It wasn’t his intention to make life harder for the woman. He planned to mend his fence, but there simply weren’t enough hours in the day. Now that the harvest was done, his corn cribs were full and his hay was safe in the barn, he would find time to make the needed repairs. Tomorrow for sure.
He was halfway to the house when the lights of a car swung off the road and into his lane. He stopped in midstride. Who could that be? He wasn’t expecting anyone. Certainly not one of the Englisch.
Most likely, it was someone who had taken a wrong turn on the winding rural Pennsylvania road looking for his neighbor’s place. It happened often enough to be irritating. His farm was remote and few cars traveled this way until Anne Stoltzfus had opened her produce stand. Now, with her large hand-painted sign out by the main highway and an arrow pointing this direction, he sometimes saw a line of cars on the road heading to buy her fresh-picked corn, squash and now pumpkins. Since the beginning of October, it seemed every Englisch in the countssy wanted to buy pumpkins from her. He would be glad when she closed for the winter.
He didn’t resent that Anne earned a living working the soil in addition to being a midwife. He respected her for that. He just didn’t like people. Some folks called him a recluse. It didn’t matter what they called him as long as they left him alone. He cherished the peace and quiet of his small farm with only his animals for company, but that peace was broken now by the crunching of car tires rolling over his gravel drive. From the barn behind him, he heard several of his goats bleating in curiosity.
Whoever these people were, they should know better than to come shopping at an Amish farm after dark. Anne’s stand would be closed until morning. The car rolled to a stop a few feet from him. He raised his hand to block the glare of the headlights. He heard the car door open, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Hello, brooder.”
His heart soared with joy at the sound of that familiar and beloved voice. “Fannie?”
“Ja.”
His little sister had come home at last. He had prayed for this day for three long years. Prayed every night before he laid his tired body down. She was never far from his thoughts. Still blinded by the lights, he took a step forward. He wanted to hug her, to make sure she was real and not some dream. “I can’t believe it’s you. Gott be praised.”
“It’s me, right enough, Joe. Johnny, turn off the lights.”
Something in the tone of her voice made Joseph stop. Johnny, whoever he was, did as she asked. Joseph blinked in the sudden darkness. He wanted so badly to hear her say she was home for good. “I knew you would come back. I knew when your rumspringa ended, you would give up the Englisch life and return. Your heart is Amish. You don’t belong in the outside world. You belong here.”
“I haven’t come back to stay, Joe.” The regret in her voice cut his joy to shreds. He heard a baby start to cry.
After few seconds, his eyes adjusted and he could make out Fannie standing beside the open door of the vehicle. The light from inside the car didn’t reveal his Amish sister. Instead, he saw an Englisch girl with short spiky hair, wearing a tight T-shirt and a short denim skirt. He might have passed her on the street without recognizing her, so different did she look. No Amish woman would be seen in such immodest clothes. It was then he realized she held a baby in her arms.
What was going on?
He had raised Fannie alone after their parents and his fiancée were killed in a buggy and pickup crash. He’d taken care of her from the time she was six years old until she disappeared a week after she turned sixteen, leaving only a note to say she wanted an Englisch life. For months afterward, he’d waited for her to return and wondered what he had done wrong. How had he failed her so badly? It had to be his fault.
It was hard to speak for the tightness that formed in his throat. “If you aren’t staying, then why are you here?”
The driver, a young man with black hair and a shiny ring in the side of his nose, leaned toward the open passenger-side door. “Come on, Fannie, we don’t have all night. Get this over with.”
“Shut up, Johnny. You aren’t helping.” She took a few steps closer to Joseph. “I need your help, brooder. There’s no one else I can turn to.”
Were those tears on her face? “What help can I give you? I don’t have money.”
“I don’t want your money. I...I want you to meet someone. This is my daughter. Your niece. Her name is Leah. I named her after our mother.”
“You have a bubbel?” Joseph reeled in shock. He still thought of his sister as a little girl skipping off to school or playing on their backyard swing, not someone old enough to be a mother. He gestured toward the car with a jerk of his head. “Is this man your husband?”
“We’re not married yet, but we will be soon,” she said in a rush.
“Soon?” Had she come to invite him to the wedding?
“Ja. As soon as Johnny gets this great job he has waiting for him in New York. He’s a musician and I’m a singer. He has an audition with a big-time group. It could be our lucky break. Just what I need to get my career going.”
She looked away and bounced the baby. Something wasn’t right. Joseph knew her well enough to know she was hiding something.
Maybe he was being too hard on her. Maybe she was simply ashamed of having a babe out of wedlock and she expected her brother to chastise her.
This wasn’t the life he wanted for her, but he was a practical man. It did no good to close the barn door after the horse was gone. He struggled to find the words to comfort her. “If Johnny is the man Gott has chosen for you, then you will find a blessed life together.”
“Thanks. Danki. We will have a good life. You’ll see. But in the meantime, I need your help. Johnny has to get to his audition, and I’m going to have surgery. Nothing serious, but I can’t keep the baby in the hospital with me.” She moved the blanket aside and showed him a cast on her wrist.
“It was an accident,” Johnny shouted from inside the car.
“It was,” Fannie added quickly, her eyes wide. She nibbled at the corner of her lower lip.
“I did not think otherwise.” At least not until this moment. He eyed Johnny sharply. Nay, it was wrong of him to think the worst of any man. If his sister said it was an accident, he must believe her. He nodded toward the house. “Come in. We can talk there. I have a pot of coffe on the stove.”
“No, thanks. Your coffee was always strong enough to dissolve a horseshoe. I can’t stay, Joe. Please say you will take care of Leah for me. It’s only for a couple of days.”
“Think what you are asking. I have no experience with babies.”
“You raised me.”
“You were not in diapers.”
“Please, Joe. If you don’t keep her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I have everything she’ll need in a bag for you. I’ve even mixed a couple of bottles. Keep them in the fridge and warm them in a pan of hot water when you need them. That’s all you’ll have to do. If you run out, there’s powdered formula in here.” She set a pink-and-white diaper bag down by her feet.
“Hurry it up, Fan, or I’m going to leave without you.” Johnny’s snarling tone made her flinch. Joseph scowled at him. Johnny sank back behind the wheel muttering to himself.
Joseph shook his head. Why was she with such a fellow? “This is not a good idea, Fannie. You know I would help if I could.”
She moved close to him. “I’m desperate, Joe,” she whispered.
Glancing at the car, she kissed the baby’s forehead. “She will be safe with you. I won’t worry about her for a single minute. Please. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s what’s best for her.” She thrust the baby into his arms and hurried away.
Stunned, Joseph froze and then tried to give the baby back, but his sister was already getting in the car. “Fannie, wait!”
The moonlight showed her tear-streaked face and her hand pressed to the window as the car took off with a spray of gravel. He stood staring after it until the taillights disappeared.
“Don’t do this, sister. Come back,” he muttered into the darkness.
The baby started crying again.
Chapter Two (#ulink_bc8b10b3-c89a-5ca7-be22-161aef3339e1)
Startled awake from a sound sleep, Anne tried to get her bearings. It took her a moment to realize someone was pounding on her front door downstairs.
She threw back the quilt and turned on the battery-operated lantern she kept on her nightstand. As a midwife, she was used to callers in the middle of the night, but only Rhonda Yoder was due soon. Anne lived so far away from them that the plan was for Rhonda’s husband to use the community telephone when she was needed. Anne carried a cell phone that had been approved by the bishop for use in emergencies. She checked it. No calls had come in.
After spending the previous day and night delivering Dora Stoltzfus’s first child, Anne was so tired it was hard to think straight. Maybe Dora or the baby was having trouble.
The knocking downstairs started again.
“I’m coming.” After covering her head with a white kerchief, she pulled on her floor-length pink robe, making sure her long brown braid was tucked inside.
She hurried down the stairs, opened the door and gazed with sleep-heavy eyes at the man standing on her front porch. She blinked twice to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and held the lantern higher. “Joseph?”
Why was her neighbor pounding on her door at two o’clock in the morning? He shifted a bundle he held in the crook of his arm. “I require your help, woman.”
That didn’t make any sense. Joseph was a confirmed bachelor who lived alone. “You need the services of a midwife?”
“That is why I’m here.” He spoke as if she were slow-witted. Maybe she was. What was going on?
It had been almost a week since she’d hit him with a tomato. This wasn’t his way of getting back at her, was it? Suddenly, the most probable answer occurred to her.
She reared back to glare at him. “Don’t tell me it’s for one of your goats. I’m not a vet, Joseph Lapp.”
She was ready to shut the door in his face. Joseph’s passion was his annoying goats. They were practically family to him. He preferred their company to that of his human neighbors. She often saw him walking in the pastures with the herd surrounding him. The frolicking baby kids were cute in the springtime, but it was the adults, Chester in particular, who saw her garden as a free salad bar.
“She’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong.” The bundle Joseph held began whimpering. He lifted the corner of the blanket and uncovered a baby’s face.
Anne’s stared in openmouthed surprise. Her lantern highlighted the worry lines around his eyes as he looked at the infant he held. This wasn’t a prank. He wasn’t joking.
“Joseph, what are you doing with a bubbel? Where’s her mudder?” The babe looked to be only a few months old.
“Gone.”
“Gone where? Who is the mudder?” None of this made sense. Anne felt like she was caught in a bad dream.
“It’s Fannie’s child.”
“Fannie?”
“My sister.”
Anne had heard that Joseph’s sister had left the Amish years ago. It had broken his heart, or so everyone said. Anne wasn’t sure he had a heart to begin with.
“Can you help her?”
His terse question galvanized her into action. He had a sick child in his arms and he had come to her for help. She stepped away from the door. “Come in. How long has the babe been ill? Does she have a fever?”
Shouldering past Anne, he entered the house. “She has been fussy since her mother left her with me four nights ago, but it got worse this morning. No fever, but she throws up everything I’ve given her to drink. Tonight she wouldn’t stop crying. She has a rash now, too.”
The crying was more of a pitiful whimper. “Bring her into my office.”
Anne led the way to a small room off the kitchen where she met with her mothers-to-be for checkups and did well-baby exams on the infants as they grew. She quickly lit a pair of gas lanterns, bathing the space in light. She pulled her midwife kit, a large black leather satchel, off the changing table and said, “Put her down here.”
He did but he kept one hand on the baby in case she rolled over. At least he knew a little about babies. That was something of a surprise, too, in this night of surprises. His worry deepened the creases on his brow. Sympathy for him stirred inside her.
Joseph Lapp was a loner. He was a member of her Amish congregation, but he wasn’t close friends with anyone she knew about. When there was trouble in the community or someone in need, he came and did his part, but he never stayed to socialize, something that was as normal as breathing to most of the Amish she knew. He didn’t shun people. He just seemed to prefer being alone.
They had been neighbors for almost three years and this was the first time he had been inside her home. A big man, he stood six foot two, if not more, with broad shoulders and hammer-like fists. He towered over Anne and made the small room feel even smaller. She took hold of the baby and tried to ignore his overwhelming presence. He took a step back, thrust his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders as if he felt the tightness, too.
Anne quickly unwrapped and examined the little girl. The baby was thin and pale with dark hollows around her eyes. She looked like she didn’t feel good. “How old is she?”
“I don’t know for certain.”
This was stranger and stranger. “I would guess three or four months. She’s a little dehydrated and she is clearly in pain.” The baby kept drawing her knees up and whimpering every few minutes. The sides of her snug faded yellow sleeper were damp. It was a good sign. If the baby was wet, that meant she wasn’t seriously dehydrated.
“She needs changing, for one thing. Do you have a clean diaper?” Anne glanced at him.
“At the house, not with me.”
“There are some disposable diapers in the white cabinet on the wall. Bring me one and a box of baby wipes, too.”
He jumped to do as she requested. Anne took off the sleeper that was a size too small as well as the dirty diaper, noting a bright red rash on the baby’s bottom. “Bring me that blue tube of cream, too.”
When Joseph handed her the things she’d asked for, she quickly cleaned the child, applied a thick layer of aloe to the rash and secured a new diaper in place. It didn’t stop the baby’s whimpering as she had hoped. She carefully checked the little girl over, looking for other signs of illness or injury.
Joseph shifted from foot to foot. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
Perplexed, Anne shook her head. She didn’t want to jump to a faulty conclusion. “I’m not sure. Her belly is soft. She doesn’t have a fever or any bruising. I don’t see anything other than a mild diaper rash and a baby who clearly doesn’t feel well. I reckon it could be a virus. Is anyone else in the family sick?”
“I’m fine.”
Anne wrapped the baby in her blanket, lifted the child to her shoulder and turned to face Joseph. “What about her mudder?”
“I don’t think so. She wasn’t sick when I saw her last, but I only spoke to her for a few minutes.”
The baby began sucking noisily on her fingers. Anne studied the child as she considered what to do next. A cautious course seemed the best move. “She acts hungry. I have some electrolyte solution I’d like to give her. It’s water with special additives to help children with sick stomachs. Let’s see if she can keep a little of that down. What’s her name?”
“Leah.”
“Hallo, Leah,” Anne crooned to the child and then handed the baby to Joseph. He took her gingerly, clearly unused to holding one so little. The babe looked tiny next to his huge hands.
Why would Leah’s mother leave her baby in the care of a confirmed bachelor like Joseph? It didn’t make sense. There were a lot of questions Anne wanted to ask, but first things first. “I need to see if Leah can keep down some fluids. If she can’t, we’ll have to consider taking her to the nearest hospital.”
That would mean a long buggy ride in the dark. It wasn’t an emergency. An ambulance wasn’t needed. Anne glanced at Joseph to gauge his willingness to undertake such a task. He nodded his consent. “I will do what you think is best.”
He put the baby’s welfare above his own comfort. That was good. Her estimation of his character went up a notch. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ll put the wet sleeper in a plastic bag for you. It’s too small for her, anyway.”
“It’s the only clothing she has.” He gently rocked the child in his arms.
“Nothing else?”
“Nay, just diapers.”
“She’s been wearing the same sleeper for four days?”
His eyes flashed to Anne’s, a scowl darkening his brow. “I washed it.”
Why wouldn’t Leah’s mother leave him clothes for the child? That was odd and odder yet. A baby could go through a half-dozen changes a day between spitting up and messing their diapers. “I have some baby clothes you can take home with you. I buy them at yard sales and people give them to me so I have some for mothers who can’t afford clothing.” Not all of her mothers were Amish. She had delivered two dozen Englisch babies during her time in Honeysuckle. The clothes had come in handy for several of the poorer women.
Anne pulled open a lower cabinet door and gave Joseph a pink gown from her stash of baby clothes. She put several sleepers and T-shirts in a spare diaper bag for him, too.
He dressed Leah while Anne fixed a few ounces of electrolyte water in a bottle. When it was ready, Anne took Leah from him and settled in a rocker in the corner. He took a seat in a ladder-back chair on the opposite side of the room. He leaned forward and braced his massive arms on his thighs. Even seated, he took up more room than most men. Her office had never felt so cramped.
The baby sucked eagerly, clutching the bottle and holding it while watching Anne with wide blue eyes. Leah belched without spitting up and smiled around the rubber nipple, making Anne giggle. What a cutie she was with her big eyes and wispy blond hair.
Anne stole a glance at Joseph. He had flaxen hair, too, cut in the usual bowl style that Amish men wore. It was straight as wheat straw except for the permanent crease his hat made over his temples. His eyes weren’t blue, though. They were gray. As dark as winter storm clouds. When coupled with his dour expression, they were enough to chill the friendliest overture.
Not that she and Joseph were friendly neighbors. The only time she saw him other than church was when she was chasing after his miserable, escape-happy goats and trying to drive them out of her garden, while he was laughing at her from the other side of the fence. He didn’t laugh out loud, but she had seen the smirk on his face. She thought he secretly enjoyed watching her run after his animals. “How are your goats, Joseph?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Your goats. How are they? They haven’t been in my garden for days.”
A twitch at the corner of his mouth could have been the start of a smile, but she wasn’t sure. “They’re fine. I reckon they got tired of you flapping your apron or your towels at them and decided to stay home for a spell.”
“Or it could be because I fixed the hole in your fence.”
He looked surprised. “Did you? I’m grateful. I’ve been meaning to get to that. How is she doing?”
Anne looked at the quiet baby in her arms and smiled. The scowl on the baby’s face was gone. She blinked owlishly. “She’s trying to stay awake, but her eyelids are growing heavier by the minute. She seems fine right now. All we can do is wait and see if she keeps this down.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “At least she isn’t crying. It near broke my heart to listen to her.”
So he did have a heart, and a tender one, at that. Her estimation of his character went up another notch.
“You said this started this morning. Was there anything different? Do you think she could have put something in her mouth without you seeing it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Has there been a change in her food? Did you make sure and boil the water before mixing her formula?’ Most of the Amish farms had wells. Without testing, it was impossible to tell if the water was safe for an infant to drink. She always advised boiling well water.
“Ja. I followed the directions on the can I bought yesterday. Her mother left me some mixed bottles, but I went through them already. The can of powdered formula in the bag was nearly empty.”
“You bought a new can of formula? Did you get the same brand?” That might account for the upset stomach.
He shrugged. “I think so. Aren’t they all alike?”
“Not really.”
“She hasn’t spit up your fancy water. She seems fine now. Danki.”
Anne gazed tenderly at the babe in her arms. Babies were all so precious. Each and every one was a blessing. Times like this always brought a pang of pain to her heart. She wished her baby had survived. Even though she had been only seventeen and pregnant out of wedlock, she would have loved her little boy with all her heart.
But God had other plans for their lives. He’d called her son home before he had a chance to draw a breath here on earth. She didn’t understand it, but she had to follow the path He laid out even if it didn’t include motherhood.
She refused to feel sorry for herself. She would hold her son in Heaven when her time came. She loved her job as a midwife and she was grateful she could help bring new life into the world and comfort families when things went wrong. Her own tragedy left her well suited to understand a mother’s grief.
Anne stroked the baby’s cheek. “She does seem to be better, but let’s give it an hour or so before we celebrate.”
“One less hour of sleep is fine with me as long as you don’t mind.”
Anne looked up, surprised that he would consider her comfort when he looked as tired and worn out as she felt. She had never seen him looking so worried. “Where is Fannie? Why did she leave Leah with you?”
He was silent for so long that Anne thought he wasn’t going to tell her anything. He stared at his clasped hands and finally spoke. “Fannie brought the baby to me four days ago. She said she had to have surgery and couldn’t keep the child with her in the hospital. She asked me to watch her for a few days.”
“What about the baby’s father? Why couldn’t he watch the child?”
“He had to get to New York for a job interview.”
“Which hospital is she in?”
“She didn’t say. She’ll be back soon. Probably this morning.”
“It seems strange that she didn’t tell you which hospital she was going to. Did she leave a phone number or a way to contact her?”
He rose to his feet. “I should go. It’s not right that I’m here alone with you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. If the bishop hears of this, it could mean trouble for you. You have your reputation to protect.”
“I’m sure Bishop Andy would understand. You were only thinking of the baby.”
Speaking of the bishop reminded Anne of her regretful behavior toward Joseph. “I want to beg your forgiveness for my grave lapse in manners the other day. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m humiliated and so very sorry that I acted as I did. You would be within your rights to report me to the church elders for discipline.”
“It’s forgiven. The babe seems fine now. Danki. I should go home.” He reached for the baby, and Anne let him take her.
“Feed her the electrolyte water if she wakes up hungry again tonight. Tomorrow you can mix a little formula with it. One part milk to three parts water. If she tolerates that, mix it half and half for the next feeding.”
“I understand. Guten nacht, Anne. You’ve been a great help. I appreciate the loan of the clothes, too.”
“Tell Fannie she can keep them if she wants. Good night, Joseph,” Anne called after him, but he was already out the door.
Was he that concerned about her reputation or was he reluctant to answer any more questions about his sister? At least he had forgiven her for striking him. That was a relief. Shaking her head over the whole thing, Anne put out the lights and climbed the stairs to bed for what was left of her night.
Waking at her usual time, Anne fixed a pot of strong coffee and made her plans for the day. She didn’t have any mother’s visits scheduled, so her whole day could be devoted to getting her pumpkins up to her roadside stand. After two cups and some toast, she was ready to get to work.
Outside, she took her old wheelbarrow out to her patch and began loading it with ripe pumpkins. Her white ones and the traditional orange carving pumpkins were her bestsellers, but she did have a number of cooking pumpkins ready to be picked. She added three of them to the top of the heap in her wheelbarrow for her own use. Having planted a new cooking variety, she was anxious to see if they were as good as her tried-and-true heirloom ones.
A crooked front wheel made pushing the wheelbarrow a chore, but getting it fixed would have to wait. If she came out ahead on her produce stand this fall, she was definitely investing in a new pushcart. Leaving the barrow at the front steps, she carried her cooking pumpkins in and put them in the sink to be washed. She stood contemplating another cup of coffee when she heard someone shouting her name.
She opened the front door. Joseph came sprinting toward her with Leah in his arms.
Chapter Three (#ulink_cfd829b6-4b96-5071-9a00-e678674594e4)
“Joseph, what’s wrong?” Anne held the door wide for him.
He rushed inside looking frazzled and more exhausted than the last time she had seen him. “I did as you told me. She was fine the rest of the night. When I gave her some of the formula this morning, she threw up again and her face got all blotchy. Now she won’t stop crying.”
Anne could see that for herself. Joseph’s blue shirt had a large wet streak down the front. The unmistakable odor of sour milk emanated from him. Leah continued to wail. It was hard to tell if she was red in the face from crying or from something else. Anne began to suspect the child had an intolerance to milk.
She took the baby from him, sat down in a kitchen chair and unwrapped the blanket Leah was swaddled in. The baby was wearing the long pink gown that Anne had given Joe last night. She untied the ribbon from around the hem and pulled up the material, exposing Leah’s kicking legs and belly and more red blotches. Anne had seen this kind of reaction before and was almost sure she was right. “I think she may have an allergy to the formula.”
He shook his head. “I checked the can her mother gave me. It’s the same brand I got for her. How can a baby be allergic to milk?”
“Some babies just are.” It was possible the rash was from something else, but it seemed too coincidental that it appeared immediately after she’d had the formula. Anne needed more information.
Joseph ran a hand through his hair. “She can’t live on water.”
“Nay, she can’t.” Anne pulled the gown down and wrapped the blanket loosely around her. Lifting the baby to her shoulder, she patted the fussy child’s back until she quieted.
“Then what do I feed her?” Joseph sounded like a man at the end of his rope. Looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink, he raked a hand through his disheveled hair again. He hadn’t bothered putting on his hat. If Anne needed proof of how upset he was, she had it. Joseph never left his house without his straw hat unless it was to wear his black felt hat to Sunday services.
She shifted the baby to the crook of her arm. “You may need to switch her to a soy formula. I need to know what brand you gave her. It could be that you just need a different kind of milk.”
“I’ll get it.” He rushed out of the house, leaped off the porch without touching the steps and sprinted toward his home a few hundred yards to the south. Anne watched as he vaulted the fence at the edge of his property instead of using the gate and kept running. She didn’t know a man his size could move so fast.
She struggled not to laugh as she gazed at Leah. “You’re certainly showing me a different side of my neighbor. Do be kinder to the poor man. I think he’s having a hard time adjusting to you.”
It was clear that Joseph was deeply concerned about his niece and determined to do whatever it took to help her. Anne watched him rush into his house and wondered what else she would learn about Joseph Lapp while he cared for his niece.
Did his sister have any idea how much she had disrupted her brother’s life? Anne didn’t know Fannie, but she found it hard to picture anyone leaving a baby with Joseph, even for a few days. Still, his sister would know him better than Anne did. She’d seen him bottle-feeding young goats in his pen. Maybe he knew more about infants than she gave him credit for knowing.
Leah buried her face against Anne’s chest and began rubbing it back and forth. She whimpered and then started crying again, pulling Anne’s attention away from her thoughts of Joseph.
Anne stroked the baby’s head. “You poor little thing. That rash itches, doesn’t it? I have something I think will help.”
* * *
Joseph came sprinting into Anne’s house and skidded to a stop on her black-and-white-patterned linoleum. The baby had stopped screaming. Leah sat naked, splashing and giggling in a basin of water in the center of the kitchen table. Anne cooed to the child as she supported her and poured a cupful of the liquid over her slick little body. Leah wagged her arms up and down in delight.
He took a couple of gasping breaths and held out the cans. “This is what I gave her and this is what her mother left me.”
“Just set them on the table.” Anne didn’t even look at him. She was grinning foolishly at the baby and making silly noises. Leah seemed mesmerized by Anne’s mouth and the sounds she was making.
He put the new formula on the tabletop along with the empty can he’d pulled from the trash. Thankfully, he’d been too busy to burn his barrel yesterday. He dropped onto a chair as he waited for his racing heart to slow. It seemed his mad dash was for nothing. Both Anne and Leah were enjoying the bathing process. He soon noticed the communication they seemed to share.
Leah was attempting to mimic the shape of Anne’s mouth. When Anne opened her mouth wide, Leah did, too. When Anne pursed her lips together, Leah tried to imitate her. Although the baby couldn’t produce the sounds Anne was making, it was clear she was trying to do so. She flapped her arms in excitement.
After a few minutes, Joseph realized he was staring at Anne’s mouth, too. She had full red lips that tilted up slightly at the corners in a perpetual sweet smile. He liked her smile. He hadn’t paid much attention to her in the past but now he noticed her sable-brown hair glinted with gold highlights where it wasn’t covered by her white kapp. It was thick and healthy looking.
She was a little woman. The top of her head wouldn’t reach his chin even if she stood on tiptoe. Apple-cheeked and just a shade on the plump side, she had a cute button nose generously sprinkled with ginger freckles and wide owlish gray-green eyes. She wasn’t a beauty, but she had a sweet face. Why hadn’t he noticed that about her before? Maybe because he usually saw her when she was running after his goats, when she was furious.
He’d been leery when a single woman moved into the small house next to his. It had been an Englisch house before Anne bought it. It took her a while to convert it to meet their Amish rules, but the bishop had been tolerant of her progress because she was single.
She hadn’t set her sights on Joseph the way some of the single women in the community had over the years. He wasn’t the marrying kind. Apparently, Anne wasn’t the marrying kind, either. She had to be close to thirty, if not older. He’d never seen her walking out with any of the unwed men in their Plain community. The only fellow he’d seen hanging around her had been Micah Shetler. He was known as something of a flirt, but she’d never shown any interest in return and Micah had soon stopped coming around.
Anne minded her own business and let Joseph mind his. If it wasn’t for the traffic her produce stand brought in and her dislike of his goats, he would have said she was the perfect neighbor. She was proving to be a godsend today. He pulled his gaze away from her and concentrated on Leah. The baby looked happier than he’d seen her since she arrived. “She seems to be enjoying her bath.”
“I put some baking soda in the water to soothe her itching skin. It will help for a little while. Grab that towel for me, would you, please?” Anne lifted the baby from the water. Joseph jumped up and held the towel wide. He wrapped it around the baby when Anne handed her to him.
“Should I bathe her this way?” How much baking soda? How often? He didn’t want to show his ignorance, so he didn’t ask.
“If her rash doesn’t go away, you can. We need to find out what is causing the rash in the first place. I’m pretty sure she has an allergy to something.”
When he had the baby securely in his arms, Anne picked up the two formula cans. “This is odd.”
“Did I buy the wrong thing?”
“Nay, it’s nothing you did. This is soy formula. It’s often used for babies that are sensitive to cow’s milk–based formulas. I wish I could ask Fannie why Leah is on it. Was it her first choice, or did the baby have trouble with regular formula and so she switched her to soy? It’s puzzling.”
“What difference would it make?” He laid the baby and towel on the table and began drying her. She tried to stuff the fingers of both hands in her mouth.
“If Leah had trouble tolerating regular formula, there isn’t any point in giving her what I have on hand. Do you or Fannie have a milk allergy?”
“Not that I know of.”
Anne stepped up and took over the task of drying and dressing Leah. He happily stood aside.
Leah quickly became dissatisfied with her fingers and started fussing again. He glanced at Leah. “Have you more of that special water?”
“I do, but I think I want to try something else. Do you have any fresh goat’s milk?”
“Nay, the truck collected my milk yesterday evening. I haven’t milked yet this morning. Are you planning to give her goat’s milk?”
“It won’t hurt to try it.”
He had heard of babies being raised on goat’s milk, but he wouldn’t have thought of it. “I can bring you some fresh as soon as I catch a goat. How much do you need?”
“A quart to start with. I’ll have to cook it first. I don’t want to give her raw milk.”
He bristled at her insult. He ran a first-class dairy. “My goats have all been tested for disease and are healthy. I have a permit to sell raw milk and my operation is inspected regularly. I drank raw goat’s milk when I was growing up and it didn’t hurt me.”
She looked him up and down. “I can see it didn’t stunt your growth. I’m not questioning the sanitation of your dairy. I feel babies shouldn’t have raw cow or goat’s milk until they are much older than Leah is. I grew up drinking raw milk, too.”
“Cow’s milk? Maybe that’s what stunted your growth.”
“Very funny,” she snapped, but he detected a sparkle of humor in her eyes.
He folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t like my goats.”
“I’m sure they are wonderful animals.”
“My does are some of the finest milk producers in the state.”
“Joseph, I don’t have to like your goats to make a formula from their milk. Let’s hope Leah can tolerate it. Are you going to go catch a goat or do I have to?”
“I’ve seen you herd goats. You’d still be chasing them tomorrow. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Make sure you use a very clean container to put the milk in.”
He shook his head as he walked out of her house. If she knew anything about his work, she would know his pails were stainless steel and cleaned with soap, water and bleach twice a day. He took good care of his animals and his equipment. How could she live next door to him and not know that?
Maybe the same way he’d never noticed how pretty her smile was. He hadn’t been inclined to look closely. Until now.
As he crossed the ground between his house and Anne’s, he looked her property over with a critical eye. Some of the siding on her horse barn was loose and the paint was faded. It could use a new coat. The pile of manure outside the barn was overdue for spreading in the fields. Two of the vanes on her windmill clacked as they went around, proving they were loose, too.
He hadn’t noticed things were slipping into disrepair for her. He hadn’t been a very good neighbor. They were all things he could fix in a day or two. As soon as Fannie came for Leah, he would see to the repairs as a way to thank Anne for her kindness to the baby. It was the least he could do.
When Fannie came back.
She would be back. She was later than she’d said she would be, but he was sure she had a good reason. He just wished he knew what it was. Why hadn’t she contacted him? He’d checked the answering machine in the community phone booth out by the highway twice a day for the past two days. He knew she had that number.
Her whispered words, the memory of her tearful face in the car window had flashed into his mind when she didn’t return as promised. The pain and sorrow he had seen in her eyes gave rise to a new doubt in his mind. Had she abandoned her child with him? Each passing hour without word made him worry that she might have done so. It wasn’t right to suspect her of such a thing, but the doubts wouldn’t be silenced.
As always, his goats were happy to see him and frolicked in their pens as he approached. In spite of what Anne thought, his goats were all as tame as kittens. They came when he called them, with Matilda, the oldest female, leading all the others in a group behind her. He selected Jenny from the milling animals and opened the gate leading to his milking barn.
“Jenny, up you go.”
The brown-and-black doe knew the routine. She trotted up the ramp onto the waist-high platform and put her head in the stanchion. He gave her a handful of alfalfa hay and closed the bar that would keep her from pulling her head out if she was finished eating before he was finished milking her. He didn’t bother hooking her to his milking machine. His church allowed the limited use of electricity in some Amish businesses such as Joseph’s dairy. The electric milking machines and refrigeration allowed him to sell his milk as Grade A to Englisch customers for more money. Today he milked Jenny by hand. In less than five minutes, he had a frothing pailful of milk.
After giving Jenny a quick scratch behind the ear to let her know he was pleased, he opened the head lock and allowed her to rejoin the herd. Holding the pail high, he waded through the group of younger goats vying for his attention and went out the gate before making sure it was latched securely. They bleated until he was out of sight.
The sound of a car on the road caught his attention. He looked hopefully toward the end of his lane, but it was only the mailman. The white truck stopped at Joseph’s box.
Maybe there would be a letter from his sister explaining everything. He put down the pail and strode toward his mailbox at the end of the drive. He refused to think about how many times he’d made this trip praying to find a missive from her in the past. She didn’t have a baby then. She had to be concerned about her child.
The mail carrier drove away before Joseph reached him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t in the mood to visit with the talkative fellow. Opening his mailbox, Joseph pulled out a bundle of envelopes and flyers. Leafing through them, he found they were advertisements and junk mail until he reached the final envelope.
Immediately, he recognized his sister’s handwriting, although he hadn’t seen it in years. The letter was addressed to Joe Lapp. For some reason, she insisted on calling him Joe, when no one else did. Relieved, he tore open the letter and asked God’s forgiveness for doubting his sister. As he read, his relief turned to disbelief.
* * *
When Joseph entered Anne’s kitchen, he presented the pail of milk to her without a word. He had a strange dejected look on his face. Had one of his beloved goats kicked him? Knowing how much he’d been through, she decided not to tease him about it.
She gave him the baby to hold and took the pail to her stove. Their Amish church allowed members to use propane-powered appliances in the home. Her hot-water heater, refrigerator, washer, stove and some of her lighting all ran off propane.
Anne transferred the milk to a large kettle. “It will take a while to heat this through. She got fussy when you left, so I gave her some more electrolyte solution. I can bring the formula to your house when I’m finished.”
Anne glanced at him. He held Leah close, gazing intently at her face. He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and sniffed.
“Is something wrong, Joseph?”
“Nay.”
She could see that wasn’t true, but she didn’t press him. She glanced covertly at him as she went back to measuring and mixing ingredients together. She referred frequently to a paper on the counter beside her. Her mother had come up with a goat’s milk formula years earlier after consulting with a local doctor. Anne was grateful for her mother’s thorough record keeping. She added molasses to a glass measuring cup that held a small amount of coconut oil. It didn’t look appetizing. “Have you had breakfast, Joseph?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. You go ahead.”
She looked his way and noticed he was staring at her concoction. She grinned. “This isn’t breakfast, but I could make you some eggs. There is still some coffee in the pot, too.”
“Just the coffe sounds good. What is it that you’re making?”
“Formula.”
“I thought you were going to give her the goat’s milk.”
“I am. Goat’s milk is perfect for baby goats, but it is lacking some things that a human baby needs. I don’t have all the ingredients here, but if she tolerates this milk, I can give you a list of things you’ll have to buy.”
“Like what?”
“Liquid whey. Molasses or Grade B maple syrup. Cod liver oil and extra-virgin olive oil plus coconut oil and liquid vitamins. There are a few other things, as well.”
His frown deepened. “How often will I have to do all this?”
“Every other day at least. The milk needs to be fresh, but it can be kept refrigerated for two days. What I’m making now will last through today unless Leah can’t tolerate it. You said Fannie would be back today, didn’t you? Send her over when she comes to pick up the baby, and I’ll show her how it’s made.”
“You had best show me how to do it. I’ll be the one taking care of her from now on.”
Confused, Anne turned to him. “What about her mudder? Isn’t she coming? What’s happened?”
Chapter Four (#ulink_47dbff5e-6bc7-5719-8d8a-f32503e44f5c)
The anguish on Joseph’s face told Anne something was very wrong. She watched him struggle to compose himself. What had happened to his sister?
He sank onto one of her chairs and gazed at the baby for a long time. Finally, he whispered, “Your mudder is not coming.”
“She’s not coming today?” Anne waited for him to elaborate.
He shook his head. “She’s not coming back at all.”
Anne cupped a hand over her mouth as a horrible thought occurred to her. “She died?”
“Nay, but that would be easier to explain.”
“Please, Joseph, tell me what has happened.”
“Fannie lied to me.”
Anne took a seat beside him. “In what way did she lie?”
“When she left Leah with me, she said it would only be for a day or two. She deliberately lied to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
He pulled a letter from his coat pocket. “This came in the mail this morning. It’s from Fannie. I was happy when I saw it. I thought it would explain why she was late returning. Instead, she wrote that she didn’t have surgery. That was a lie she made up to get me to keep Leah. Fannie was going to New York City with Johnny. She said her baby was better off growing up in the country rather than in the city.”
“Oh, Joseph, I’m so sorry.” It was clear he was hurting and she didn’t know how to help.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. “What kind of mother would do that? I tried to raise my sister to be a God-fearing woman of faith, but I failed. I don’t know what I did wrong. I knew my duty. I kept us fed and together with a roof over our heads. I dried her tears. I took her to church. I made sure she said her prayers. Then she does this, and I think I never knew her at all.”
He put the letter away and adjusted the blanket so it wasn’t covering Leah’s mouth. “Why couldn’t she be happy among us? Is this life so terrible?”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “We can’t know what is in another person’s mind or the reasons why they behave as they do, unless they share that with us.” Her heart ached for the pain he was going through. He had suffered a terrible betrayal of trust.
“How can I raise another child after I failed 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 pots of mums in a rainbow of colors. She had a green thumb, it seemed. He was unloading the wheelbarrow when a silver car pulled up beside him.
The window rolled down, and the woman driver spoke. “How much are the white pumpkins?”
He wanted to ignore her, but it wouldn’t be right to offend one of Anne’s customers. He looked around for a sign or price list but didn’t see one. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just delivering these. The woman who runs the place will be here shortly.”
“I can’t wait. What if I gave you twenty dollars for three of them? Would that be enough?”
If the woman drove away, Anne wouldn’t get anything. Hoping he was making the right decision, he nodded. “I reckon it would.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll take the three large ones in your wheelbarrow.” The trunk of her car lifted. She got out and offered him the bill. Joseph pocketed the money, loaded her pumpkins and then walked away quickly before he had to deal with anyone else.
His milking goats were lined up along the fence watching for him and bleating. They knew something was up. He was never this late with the milking. He waded through them and opened the gate that led to the milking parlor. The first dozen goats hurried through, and he shut the gate after them, stopping the rest. He could milk only twelve at a time. The others would have to wait their turn.
Inside the barn, the animals went up the waist-high ramp and followed each other to their places. He latched the stanchions around each of them and put their feed in the trays in front of them. When they were happily munching, he jumped down off the platform and moved to clean and dry the udder of each doe and attach the suction nozzles. As he did so, he examined each animal, looking for signs of injury or illness. When he was sure they were all sound, he turned on the machine and began the milking process. The milk flowed from the animals through clear plastic hoses to a collection tank that would keep the fresh milk refrigerated until a truck arrived and collected it three times a week. Joining a co-op of goat dairy farmers had allowed him to increase the size of his herd and have a steady market for his milk. He was almost at the point that he could afford to expand the herd again, but one man could only do so much.
Joseph went through his chores without really thinking about them. His mind was still focused on Fannie. How could she have left her baby? Why had she done it? Was a child that much of a hindrance to the career she wanted, or was there another reason she wanted him to keep Leah?
I’m desperate, Joe. She will be safe with you. I won’t worry about her for a single minute. Please. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s what’s best for her.
What did his sister’s words mean? Were they simply part of the lie she had concocted, or had she meant them? Shaking his head, he had to admit that his sister had become a stranger. He no longer knew what to believe.
Try as he might, he didn’t see a way he could care for Leah alone. Not while she was so little. He was out of the house from sunup to sunset most days. Even with electric milking machines, milking eighty goats twice a day took hours. Besides his goats, he had a small farm to run. Growing his own feed reduced his milk production costs and made sure his animals received the best nutrition possible. With winter approaching, he wouldn’t need to spend time in the fields, but this was when he caught up on equipment repairs and got ready for the spring kidding season. What would he do with the baby when he was out in the pastures all day and all night when the does were birthing? He couldn’t be in two places at once. It would be different if he had a full-time helper. Or a wife.
He glanced out the barn window toward Anne’s house. She said she would help him. Had she meant only today, or would she be willing to do more? He wouldn’t know unless he asked, but he wasn’t sure he should.
After finishing the milking, he returned to Anne’s house. He pulled the twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. “I sold three of your white pumpkins to a woman when I took your wheelbarrow up there. I didn’t know how much they were. When she offered this, I took it because she couldn’t wait.”
“That’s fine. A little more than I would have asked, but I’m not complaining. Danki.”
He looked around the room. “Where is Leah?”
“Sleeping. I made a bed for her in the other room. I’ll show you.” She led the way to her office, where she had lined a large plastic laundry hamper with a quilt. Leah lay on her back making tiny sucking motions with her mouth. A trickle of drool glistened on her chin.
Joseph squatted on his heels beside the basket. He couldn’t believe the difference between the screaming child he had shoved at Anne and this little dear. “She liked the milk?”
Anne smiled. “She loved it. I mixed it half and half with the electrolyte water just so it wasn’t such a drastic change for her. Sometimes switching to a new formula can upset a baby’s tummy unless you do it gradually. She hasn’t spit up or fussed since she finished her bottle.”
He breathed a quick prayer of thanks that Leah wasn’t screaming or hurting. He was more grateful than ever for Anne’s knowledge and skill. “You have worked a wonder here.”
“I’m glad she tolerated the goat’s milk. I had no idea what to try next if she didn’t. We would have had to take her to see a doctor.”
Now was the time to see how much Anne was willing to do for Leah. Rising to his feet, Joseph hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and took a deep breath. “I have a proposal for you, Anne Stoltzfus.”
Chapter Five (#ulink_982d885c-eedf-50b3-bbbb-19647702dbb1)
“I’m listening,” Anne responded, waiting for Joseph to explain his odd statement.
A proposal. What did that mean? Was he going to ask her to take Leah again? Anne hardened her resolve. As much as she liked the babe, she couldn’t be Leah’s mother. What if something happened to her? The thought scared Anne to death.
Joseph shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I will help you get your fields harvested and fix what needs fixing around the farm in exchange for your help with Leah.”
She folded her arms. “Exactly what kind of help?”
“Like a mother would do.”
“I’ve already said I won’t keep her.”
“Nay, you mistake my meaning. Like a kindt heedah. Feed her, bathe her, watch her while I’m working.”
“You mean you will harvest my pumpkin crop if I will be Leah’s nanny?”
“Ja. That is what I want. Would you accept such a bargain?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think it over.”
It was a tempting proposal. Hauling her large pumpkins out of the field was backbreaking work. Some of them weighed over twenty pounds. As strong as Joseph was, he could do it easily. He could probably carry one under each arm and one in his teeth and still push a loaded wheelbarrow. She had only another week to get them all picked unless an early freeze hit, then she wouldn’t have anything to harvest. His help would be a blessing.
But taking care of an infant? What would she be getting herself into? She had a produce business to run. She had mothers coming for prenatal and postnatal appointments. There was no telling when an expectant father would show up wanting her to come deliver a baby. She had three mothers due before Thanksgiving. What would she do with Leah then? Run her back to Joseph’s home? Amish women didn’t call for the midwife until they were ready to give birth. She wouldn’t have time to waste.
Still, the idea of Joseph raising Leah alone was as hard to imagine as her raising his goats. If she agreed to his proposal, she would be able to keep an eye on the baby, make sure she was thriving. The big question was, could she do it without becoming too attached to Leah?
The memory of losing her baby lingered in the back of her mind. Loving a child meant risking heartbreak. She shook her head.
Joseph sighed deeply. “You don’t want the job. I understand. May I take your laundry basket with me until I can get a crib for her?”
“What has she been sleeping in?”
“A cardboard box that I lined with a blanket.”
“Of course you can use my basket. I’m sure the church will provide the things you need when they learn of your situation.”
He picked up the hamper. “I can make do without their help. I will manage until Fannie comes back.”
Anne frowned and tipped her head slightly. “I thought the letter said she wasn’t coming back.”
His face turned stoic. “She will. She’ll see what a mistake she has made and she’ll be back. I know my sister.”
Anne held her tongue. She wasn’t so sure. She fetched a half-dozen bottles of milk she had made from the refrigerator. “These pink bottles are half milk and half my fancy water. The rest are plain goat’s milk formula. If she keeps the first ones down, give her full-strength milk tonight.”
“Will you write down the recipe for me if she does well on this?”
Anne’s conscience pricked her. She wasn’t doing enough to help him. She could tell by the look on his face that he was unsure of himself. It had to be confusing and frightening for a bachelor to suddenly find he was in charge of a baby. “I’ll make all the formula for you if you bring me fresh milk every other day.”
“Danki. I’m not much of a hand at cooking.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I appreciate all the help you’ve given me.”
“You’re willkomm.”
He walked out with Leah in the basket. Anne closed the door behind him, determined not to feel that she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t accept his offer of a job. She delivered babies. She didn’t raise them. What she did raise was produce. And right now her stand was unattended.
While most people knew they could leave their money in her tin can and take the pumpkins or the vegetables that they wanted, some Englischers would simply drive by if no one was minding the stand. She needed to get up to the road. The last two weeks of October were her biggest sale days. Today, Saturday, would be especially busy.
She grabbed a sweater from the hook beside the door and walked out into the chilly morning. The smell of autumn was in the air as the wind blew fallen leaves helter-skelter down the lane in front of her. The good Lord had blessed her with a bountiful crop and kept the heavy frost at bay. Only He knew how much longer the good weather would last.
Her pumpkins were larger than usual this year and thick under the still-green leaves in the field, but a hard frost would put an end to all of them. She said a quick prayer for continued favorable weather and walked quickly toward the small open-fronted shack she had built at the edge of her property.
If her land had fronted a busy highway, she would have seen more business, but the village of Honeysuckle was small and off the main state roads, so traffic was generally light. Her idea to post a sign out by the highway was paying off, though. She’d had twice as many customers this fall as last. Only Joseph had complained about the increase in cars on the road.
A horse and gray buggy sat parked beside her stand when she reached it. Anne immediately recognized the animal and looked for the owner. Dinah Plank was inside the shack inspecting some of Anne’s white pumpkins displayed in a wooden crate. Anne called to her, “Morning, Dinah.”
“Wee gayt’s,” Dinah answered with a wave. “A good day to you, too. I thought you would be in town at the farmers’ market, selling your produce there.”
“I took a load of vegetable and pumpkins in yesterday and Harvey Zook’s boy is selling them for me. I thought it might be better to be open at both places today.”
“Goot thinking.”
“Can I help you find something?” Anne smiled at her friend. Barely five feet tall, the cheerful plump widow was an energetic gray-haired woman. Dinah lived in Honeysuckle above the Beachy Craft Shop, where she worked for Anne’s friend Ellen Beachy. Soon to be Ellen Shetler. The wedding was planned for the first Thursday in November.
Dinah picked up a creamy white pumpkin and thumped it. “I wanted to make a few pies for Ellen’s wedding. There’s nothing like the taste of a warm pumpkin pie fresh out of the oven piled high with whipped cream. I get hungry just thinking about it.”
“I agree. You will want some of my heirloom cooking pumpkins for that. They make the best pies.” Anne gestured toward a smaller crate inside her stand.
“What about these white pumpkins?”
“I’ve tried them and they are okay, but I don’t think they have as much flavor.”
“I’ll be sure and tell my friends as much. Naomi wanted to try some whites.”
Naomi Beiler, the widow of their church’s former bishop, was the unofficial leader of the local widows’ group. The group planned benefit suppers and the like for people in need within their Amish community. They had recently held a haystack supper to raise funds for Mary and David Blauch after their son was born prematurely. The baby had had to be hospitalized for several months and the couple faced a huge medical bill. The Amish didn’t carry health insurance but depended on the rest of the community to aid them in times of need. If their local church wasn’t able to cover the cost, a plea would go out to neighboring churches to help. The way everyone looked out for each other was one of the most comforting things about living in an Amish community.
Anne thought about Joseph and Leah. Joseph didn’t feel he needed outside help, but Anne knew he did. “Will you be seeing Naomi this morning?”
On most Saturdays, Dinah went early to the farmers’ market in town, where she met friends from her widows’ club for breakfast. “I think so. Why?” Dinah cocked her head to the side.
“I have a small project I’d like help with. Joseph Lapp’s sister recently paid him a visit and left her infant daughter with him.”
“What?” Dinah’s eyes widened behind her glasses and her mouth dropped open. “He’s a bachelor.”
“Exactly. He has nothing for the child. No crib, no bottles, only a few things he borrowed from me.”
“What is his sister thinking? How long is he going to have the child?”
“I wish I knew. She may not be back.”
“How sad. Fannie has been out in the Englisch world a long time. It must be three years now. You never met her, did you?”
Anne shook her head. “She left before I moved here. Joseph has lived alone for as long as I’ve known him.”
“I’m sure he isn’t an easy neighbor to get along with. He’s not a friendly fellow.”
“We’d get along better if he kept his fences fixed. He came over three weeks ago to tell me my produce stand was bringing too many cars down the road.”
“I can see why that would bother him. His parents and the girl he planned to marry were all killed when a truck struck their buggy right at the end of his lane. Joseph and Fannie were thrown clear with barely a scratch. It was very sad.”
Anne’s heart contracted in sympathy. “I didn’t know.”
“It was Gottes will.”
All things were the will of God, but knowing that didn’t dull the pain of losing a loved one. Anne tried to imagine Joseph as a brokenhearted young man. “Was she a local girl?”
“Her family lives near Bird-in-Hand. She was the eldest daughter. I’ll speak to Naomi, but all we need to do is talk to a few of the mothers at church tomorrow and ask for donations of baby items. I know my daughters-in-law have clothing they can spare. How old is the child?”
“About four months.”
“I can pick up some formula for her in town today and bring it by this evening.”
“That won’t be necessary. It appears that Leah has a milk allergy. We are giving her goat’s milk.”
Dinah chuckled. “Joseph should have plenty of that. How many goats does he have these days?”
“I have never tried to count. All I do is shoo them out of my garden.”
“Looking at all these pumpkins, I’d say you’ve done a good job of keeping them away. I’ll take six of your best cooking ones, and I’ll share your concerns about Joseph’s niece with my friends. I’m sure we can come up with the things he needs. Who is watching the child while he is out working with his goats and in the fields?”
“No one. He wanted to hire me as a nanny, but I said no.”
“Why? I would think taking care of a baby would be your cup of tea.”
Anne turned and began rearranging the gourds she had on display. “Of course I like babies, but...I don’t know. I’m busy with the stand. Besides, I could get called out for a delivery at any time. It would be hard to have a baby underfoot.”
“I see.” Dinah didn’t sound convinced. Anne glanced her way. The sharp-eyed little woman didn’t look convinced, either.
Sighing heavily, Anne folded her arms and admitted the truth. “I’m afraid I would become too attached to her. She is an adorable bubbel. I may never have children of my own and caring for someone else’s child every day would be a reminder of that.”
“Sounds as if you are already attached to her.”
“Nay, I’m simply worried Joseph won’t be able to take care of her.”
“Then you should find someone to be the kindt heedah. You must know of several girls who would do well at that.”
“I can’t think of anyone offhand. Who could get along with Joseph? He is an odd fellow.”
Dinah chuckled. “I’ll check around and give him a few names tomorrow after the prayer service.”
“That is a fine idea. I’ll tell Joseph.” It was a good solution. Leah needed someone to look after her and Joseph could easily find someone. It didn’t have to be her. Then she could stop worrying about them both.
After a busy day at her produce stand, Anne made her way home. The western sky was ablaze with purple, pink and gold-tinged clouds fanned out along the horizon. The air had a decided nip in it as the day cooled. She hoped it wouldn’t freeze tonight.
She pulled her sweater close and hurried up the steps, but she stopped on the porch and glanced toward Joseph’s house before she went inside. She cocked her head in that direction, but she didn’t hear any crying. How was Leah tolerating her goat’s milk? The question had been at the forefront of Anne’s mind all day.
“At least he didn’t come running over. She must be doing alright.”
Anne shook her head. Now she was talking to herself. It was not a good sign. If she was going to sleep a wink tonight, she would have to see for herself that the baby was doing better.
Crossing the strip of brown grass that bordered her flower garden, Anne paused at the gate between her place and Joseph’s. Was there really a reason to go to his door? If he needed her, he would come and get her. He had already proven that. Anne bit the corner of her lip.
“Checking on them is the neighborly thing to do.” As Anne battled her indecision, she saw a light come on in his barn. He was with his goats. Where was Leah?
Anne took a deep breath. She would just ask about the baby and leave. Before she could go any farther, the light went off. She waited a few moments. He appeared at the barn door with her laundry basket in his hands. It seemed Leah would learn about goats from the cradle.
He caught sight of Anne and stopped. After a brief pause, he headed toward her.
“How did she do?” Anne asked when he was close enough.
He stopped at the fence and rested the basket on the top board. “She did fine. Slept most of the day. The rash is gone. Danki.”
Anne peered in the basket. Leah lay with her eyes closed, but she was making tiny sucking motions with her lips and then smiling in her sleep. Anne’s heart turned over. She touched the baby’s soft hair. “She’s dreaming about her bottle.”
“You solved her problem. I’m grateful.”
Anne drew her hand back and clenched her fingers together. “I saw Dinah Plank this morning. She thinks she can find a nanny for you. She said she would give you a few names tomorrow after church.”
“I don’t need anyone. Leah sleeps while I work.”
“She won’t sleep this much for long. Then what?”
He scowled and lifted the basket off the fence. “Then she will be awake while I work. We’ll be fine until my sister returns. Do not concern yourself with us. Guten nacht,” he said sharply and turned away.
Anne watched him walk off and wished she had another fresh tomato at hand. First he wanted her help and now he didn’t. He was the most irritating man she’d ever met.
Chapter Six (#ulink_3041a7e3-782c-592f-a449-0812d13a8a2d)
Anne drew several stern looks from Naomi Beiler during the three-hour-long church service on Sunday morning. She tried to concentrate on the hymns sung, on her prayers and on the preaching, but she couldn’t. Joseph wasn’t among the worshippers.
Where was he? What was wrong? Was Leah okay?
Anne glanced over again, covertly checking the rows of men seated on the backless benches across the aisle. Joseph’s size made him a hard man to miss. Although there were close to fifty men and boys all dressed in dark coats and pants with their heads bowed, she knew she could pick him out easily. He simply wasn’t there.
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Patricia Davids
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: An Unexpected FamilyAmish midwife Anne Stoltzfus is used to late-night visitors—but she′s shocked to find reclusive bachelor Joseph Lapp on her doorstep with a baby in his arms. Their neighborly quarrels are pushed aside when Joseph explains that his sister has left her daughter in his care—and Joseph needs Anne to be her nanny. Soon they′re bonding over baby Leah, and the love they feel for her is healing them both. When Joseph makes an offer of marriage, Anne′s painful past resurfaces and she′s unsure of what to do. But taking a chance could mean love—and family—are waiting just across the fence.Lancaster Courtships: Life and love in Amish countryCollect all 3 book in the series!The Amish Bride by Emme MillerThe Amish Mother by Rebecca KertzThe Amish Midwife by Patricia Davids