The Amish Midwife's Secret

by Rachel J. Good

  One more thing for her to-do list. Leah rose and picked up the cups. She set them in the sink and then crossed the room to hug Ada.

  The shop bell jangled, and Leah broke their brief embrace to rush down the hall. “I’m so glad you came by,” she called as she hurried into the store. All thoughts of Kyle fled when she saw who had entered.

  Ben stood at the counter, and Leah stopped and ran a self-conscious hand over the band of her kapp to be sure it was securely in place. Ben placed a high priority on neatness and decorum, so she tried hard not to appear disheveled around him. With quick, nervous gestures, she smoothed down her black work apron. She took a deep breath, but her “Hello” came out as a gasp.

  With a slight frown, Ben surveyed the empty counter and then turned to her. “I thought the store opened at nine.”

  “It did.” She gestured toward Ada who’d emerged through the door. “I took Ada into the kitchen for some tea.”

  “I see.” Ben shook his head slightly. “But what if someone came in while you were visiting?”

  Why did he always make her feel so defensive? “I listen for the bell.” She smiled at him. “That’s why I came out to greet you.”

  “I guess.” Ben didn’t sound convinced, but as she kept beaming at him, his expression softened. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “I’m happy you stopped by. Let me say good-bye to Ada, and then we can talk.”

  Ben’s smile faded slightly. “I can’t stay long. Onkel and I are heading to the horse auction. He…”

  Ada waved and headed for the outside door. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Let me know how I can help,” Leah called after her.

  “You have enough to do.” Ada pulled her coat around her and pushed open the door. A blast of frigid air blew into the shop, and the door slammed shut behind her.

  “She’s right, you know,” Ben said when Leah turned around. “I worry about you trying to handle so much, and I wish we had more time together,” he said wistfully.

  “I do too.” Leah moved behind the counter and slid all the vitamin bottles back into a group so she could resume counting, but she kept her attention on Ben. “When do you leave for the auction?”

  “Trying to get rid of me?” he said in a teasing voice, but the worry in his eyes revealed he wasn’t kidding.

  “Of course not. I’m always glad to see you,” she assured him, although she did wish she could get some work done in the store.

  “I’ll be meeting the driver of the horse trailer shortly, but I wanted to see if you’d like to go out for a pumpkin latte after the shop closes at four.” His eyes twinkled. “I know how much you like those.”

  “That sounds wunderbar!” Imagining inhaling the spicy aroma of the steam made Leah’s mouth water. The local store only carried the pumpkin flavor from early October through the end of November, making it an extra-special treat.

  “I’ll stop by to pick you up. That should give us some time to talk.” Ben turned toward the door. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but I can’t keep Herb waiting. I’m so glad we’ll finally have some time together this afternoon.”

  “I am too.” Leah gave him a cheery wave as he exited. “See you later.” Spending an hour or two with Ben would hopefully help smooth things over between them.

  Grateful for that, Leah prayed for a quiet morning to get the stock inventoried and items shelved before tomorrow’s huge delivery. Daed had prepaid for the order before Mamm’s big medical bills had come flooding in. Leah hoped they’d have enough money to cover both.

  * * *

  Mamm spent most days in bed now that her MS had gotten worse. Leah had just carried Mamm’s lunch tray upstairs when her cell phone rang. At least Daed wasn’t here. He disliked her having a phone, but Sharon had given her one, insisting she needed it so expectant parents could call her. So far, Sharon had been the only one to ring her. As soon as she answered, a man’s panicked voice said, “This is Enos. Hannah said to call you. She needs you to come.”

  “Are you sure? It’s way too early.”

  “I know.” Enos’s voice shook. “But she says it’s time.”

  Leah squeezed her eyes shut. Hannah had lost two babies close to term. Leah prayed this wouldn’t be another. She struggled to keep worry from coloring her words. “Sharon’s on the way?”

  “She didn’t answer. I left a message, but she hasn’t called back. I can’t wait. I need to get back home to Hannah.”

  “Yes, do that. I’ll try Sharon again.” Leah pictured Enos running down the lane from his neighbor’s phone shanty to comfort Hannah.

  As soon as she hung up, Leah dialed Sharon’s number. The phone rang and rang. After each ring, Leah’s concern rose.

  A woman’s voice kicked on saying Sharon was not available and to leave a message. Leah hung up and redialed. Sharon always had her cell phone with her, and she usually answered on the first ring. Or the second. Leah’s worry changed to full-blown panic. She couldn’t deliver a premature baby on her own, especially not if…

  She had to leave. She couldn’t let Enos and Hannah handle this on their own. Fingers shaking, she dialed Dr. Hess’s office. Esther answered right away, and Leah babbled about the situation, her tongue getting tangled as she tried to explain.

  “Calm down, dear,” Esther soothed. “Now, let me get this straight. Enos and Hannah’s baby isn’t due for another month, right? And Sharon isn’t answering?” She paused. “The doctor and Kyle are on a house call in Gordonville, but I’ll send them over as soon as they’re done.”

  Leah had forgotten about Kyle. The last thing she wanted was to do a delivery—any delivery—with Kyle there. A premature baby would be even worse. “Thank you, but—”

  “It’ll be fine, dear.” Esther must have misunderstood her hesitation. “Babies usually take their time coming.”

  Not always true for Amish babies. Many mothers didn’t send their husbands to call the midwife until they were close to delivering.

  “Why don’t you go out and stay with her, though, until the doctor gets there? And don’t worry. Sharon may already be there by the time you arrive.”

  Leah hoped so. She thanked the doctor’s wife, explained the situation to Mamm, bundled up against the cold, flipped the shop sign to CLOSED, and rushed out to hook the horse to the buggy. Praying Sharon had gotten Enos’s message, Leah wrestled her huge midwife bag into the carriage and galloped toward the Fishers’ farm.

  * * *

  Dr. Hess’s phone rang. “It’s Esther.”

  Kyle had been heading out the door but paused with his hand on the doorknob when Dr. Hess said the name Leah. That was the midwife. He hoped she hadn’t made someone ill with her concoctions.

  “Already?” Dr. Hess’s voice rose in alarm. “Is she sure it isn’t Braxton-Hicks?” He listened for a few moments. “Where’s Sharon? It’s not like her not to answer her phone.” After a brief pause, he added, “Kyle and I will head over there as soon as we can. We’re waiting for the medical transport to pick up Reuben Esh. I’m pretty sure he’s broken his hip.”

  “You took Kyle to the Eshes’?” Esther’s shrill question blared from the phone. “Did he know that’s where you were heading?”

  “No, and it didn’t occur to me to tell him. My only thought was to help a man in pain lying on the floor.” He glanced over at Kyle. I’m so sorry, he mouthed, his eyes mirroring his regret. “Yes, I’ve apologized, and he took it quite well considering the circumstances.”

  Esther lowered her voice so Kyle couldn’t hear the rest of her conversation, but she must have been berating her husband, because he replied, “Yes, dear, I’ll try to think about things like that next time. I do tend to focus on the job and forget about everything else.” He finished with an “I love you too,” so Esther must have forgiven his forgetfulness.

  After he hung up, Dr. Hess looked worried. “I wonder why Sharon isn’t answering her phone. Leah’s alone for a delivery, and the baby’s coming early. Amish moms often wait until
the last minute to call, so there’s not much time. We’ll have to head over to the Fishers’ as soon as we get Reuben off to the hospital.”

  “The Fishers’? Isn’t that where we went yesterday?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “The baby with pneumonia,” Kyle said flatly. “The one who belongs in the hospital.”

  “I suppose she might let us admit him,” Dr. Hess mused, “if the newborn needs to go to the hospital for preemie care.”

  Kyle stopped himself from a sarcastic comment. If they could get that little boy to the hospital, it didn’t matter how it happened. His main concern right now was not leaving Leah alone at a delivery. “Didn’t you say Leah was learning to be a midwife? She’s not certified?”

  “No, and she can’t be.”

  What? “If she isn’t competent enough to be certified, what’s she doing at a delivery alone?”

  Dr. Hess smiled. “I didn’t mean she couldn’t qualify for certification. She’s actually pretty skilled for only practicing a few months. Sharon’s been the area midwife for almost thirty years now, and she says Leah’s the best assistant she’s ever had.”

  At Kyle’s puzzled look, Dr. Hess explained, “The Amish believe that everyone should be equal, and they don’t want their children exposed to worldly things, which means they don’t believe in higher education or certifications.”

  Kyle shook his head. He knew their schooling went only to the eighth grade, but he hadn’t realized they couldn’t be certified. Why do all that work without getting the credentials and recognition to go with it? It made no sense.

  Dr. Hess glanced at his watch. “The medical transport should be here soon. Why don’t you stand inside the storm door to wait? It’s awfully cold outside. And I’ll go back to stay with”—he hesitated—“the, um, patient.”

  Avoiding the name didn’t make it any easier for Kyle. At least he wasn’t in the same room, worried the Eshes would recognize him. Despite all the letters of forgiveness they—and everyone else in the Amish community—had sent, Kyle still lived with the blame. At the time, those letters had made him so angry he’d crumpled them up and thrown them away. He had a hard time believing the messages were genuine, and he never felt he deserved them. If he were in the Eshes’ position, he’d never forgive someone who’d destroyed his daughter’s life. And he could never forgive himself.

  Dr. Hess had only gone partway down the hall when the medical transport pulled into the driveway.

  “They’re here,” Kyle called after him. He went out to meet them and usher them toward the living room, but he hung back as they crowded around Emma’s father. Hoping Reuben wouldn’t notice him, Kyle flattened himself against the wall as they took him out. He waited until they were close to the vehicle before exiting the house.

  But as Reuben was being lifted inside, he glanced in Kyle’s direction. His eyes widened, and he lifted a shaky finger to point directly at Kyle. You, he mouthed.

  Kyle shrank against the front door, pinned by guilt and shame. Yet the look in Reuben’s eyes was not condemnation. He stared steadily at Kyle as if trying to convey a message. A message of sympathy and sorrow.

  Reuben’s lips formed the words I’m sorry, just before the transport doors shut.

  His hands clenched into fists, Kyle thrust them deep in his pockets, shivering in the freezing wind as the vehicle pulled away. The sick feeling in his stomach intensified. Reuben blamed himself for Emma’s rebellion and the tragic consequences that followed. But the only one at fault was Kyle himself. His carelessness and anger had led to the accident.

  Chapter Six

  Arriving at the Fishers’ haus, Leah drove her horse close to the barn. She had no idea how long she’d be here, but he’d need shelter. As she climbed from her carriage, Enos burst from the back door and loped across the yard.

  “We were waiting for you,” he said. “I’ll take care of your horse so you can care for Hannah, but first let me carry in your bag.” He lifted the heavy bag from the front seat.

  “Danke.” Leah rushed to keep pace with his swift steps. When she held the bag, she staggered, but Enos lifted the tote full of supplies as easily as he hefted bales of hay.

  Along with phones, Sharon had insisted they both have bags with all the necessary supplies for a delivery. Leah was grateful she’d agreed. Neither of them had anticipated her doing a delivery alone, though. At that thought, the lukewarm oatmeal she’d gulped down earlier turned into a hard ball of fear in her stomach. She prayed Sharon or Dr. Hess would arrive before the baby did.

  They reached the back porch, and she sucked in some air. The frigid wind needled her lungs, but she managed to push out a question between short, sharp breaths. “How’s Hannah?”

  Not even slightly winded by their run, Enos winced. “She’s in a lot of pain.”

  “Already?”

  He ducked his head as he reached for the doorknob. “Ach, vell, she’s been up most of the night. She tried to ignore the pains at first because it was too early. She’s close to ready now.”

  Most of the night? Leah was used to Amish women waiting until they were close to transitioning before calling the midwife, but this time, it could be dangerous.

  The door flew open, and Hannah’s oldest daughter, Maria, stepped out on the porch to hold the storm door so they could enter. She tilted her head shyly in Leah’s direction, then turned to her daed as the door banged shut behind her.

  “I put the pots of water to boil on the stove. And the others are dressed in their coats and ready to go. I’ll take them to Aenti Sarah’s now.” Maria shepherded the four-year-old and six-year-old toward the back door. “And I changed Aaron’s diaper, gave him a bottle, and propped him up. He’s still having trouble breathing.”

  Enos nodded and set Leah’s bag on the sparkling-clean kitchen table. “Gut, gut. I’ll come to get you soon. Behave yourselves, now. And be sure to help Sarah with the cleaning and pies for church.”

  “We will,” Maria promised as she led the others out onto the porch.

  Despite the tension in her stomach, Leah smiled at the girls. She prayed they’d have a lovely surprise when they got home, but her roiling stomach warned her of danger. Especially if she had to handle this delivery alone.

  “Hannah,” Enos called, after the door had banged shut behind the children, “Leah is here. I’ll unhook her carriage and be right back.”

  Hannah’s tired danke barely carried from the back bedroom.

  Leah unzipped her bag and hastily pulled out a few basic supplies. “I’ll go back to her.”

  With murmured thanks, Enos rushed for the door.

  Using some of the boiling water to wash up, Leah called after him, “Did Sharon answer?”

  “Neh, and I didn’t want to leave Hannah alone for too long, so I didn’t try again.” The door slammed, and Enos was gone.

  Dear Lord, please help Sharon and Dr. Hess to answer their phones, Leah prayed as she raced down the hall.

  No sound came from the bedroom. Leah always marveled at how most Amish women barely made a sound during labor unlike the Englischers she’d heard when Sharon took her to the local hospital for observation. Groans, screeches, and crying came from the delivery rooms. Perhaps some of the mothers’ distress was caused by being forced into such an unnatural position, lying on their backs.

  Hannah, like most other Amish mothers, still paced the room. Leah drew in a breath. If she hadn’t gotten on her hands and knees yet, maybe delivery wasn’t imminent. Hannah bent over, panting and clutching her abdomen.

  “Can I check you?” Leah asked gently once the contraction had passed.

  Hannah nodded and moved toward the bed with its plastic sheeting and freshly washed, but worn, bedding. Leah’s hands shook. She’d never done an examination alone. She tried hard to remember everything Sharon had taught her, but she didn’t need any of her training. The baby’s head was already crowning.

  Enos clattered through the back door, and Leah yelled to him, “The baby’s
almost here.”

  A rush of water in the other room indicated he was washing his hands. Enos had been fastidious whenever she and Sharon came for Hannah’s monthly checkups, but Leah needed him now. He had more experience with deliveries than she had. He’d been with his wife through six other deliveries, including the two babies she’d lost. Leah prayed this wouldn’t be another.

  Enos must have had the same thought, because worry lines framed his eyes and mouth, but he smoothed his face into a reassuring smile as he hurried toward his wife. After a loving look at Hannah, he climbed on the bed to support her while she pushed. His quiet words of encouragement helped calm Leah’s nerves and shaky hands. With a whispered prayer, she prepared to do her best, but this delivery was now in God’s hands.

  * * *

  Dr. Hess wove the car down the bumpy lanes and chattered to Kyle, seeming not to notice the lack of response. Kyle let the words wash over him as soothing white noise, but he took in little of what the doctor was saying. Kyle’s mind was still on Reuben’s face.

  The last time he’d seen Reuben, he’d been blindsided by the news of the baby and Emma’s rejection. Every time he thought of that day, of Emma’s agony as she pushed her way past her amnesia and recognized him, Kyle’s heart clenched into a knot so tight his chest ached. He’d brought her nothing but pain. Knowing that had kept him from ever getting close to another woman. He couldn’t bear to think of inflicting anyone else with such agony. He’d become a doctor to atone for his guilt. But nothing he did could ever erase his past.

  Fall leaves swirled in the gusts that shook the car. Scarlet, russet, pumpkin, and maize drifted into a carpet covering the ground, leaving behind stark, bare branches silhouetted against the sky. He’d first seen Emma at this time of year, and he’d lost her on a freezing winter day. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut.

  One of his friends had convinced him to go to a party at an Amish barn. Emma had defied her family during Rumspringa by wearing Englisch clothes and breaking all the rules her Amish parents set. They’d both been young and foolish teenagers when they fell in love, but he’d offered to marry her. Instead she’d insisted on leaving and returning to the Amish. He’d lost his temper and driven recklessly. They’d skidded on the ice and crashed.