The Amish Midwife's Secret

by Rachel J. Good

  “I’m fine, but what about you?”

  Kyle’s teeth chattered as he shivered, but he waved away her concerns. “I’ll be fine, but I’m worried about taking you all the way out to the store when the roads are so treacherous.”

  He pulled out of the parking lot and slowed to a crawl. Snow pelted the windshield, coming down in sheets, covering the road and hiding the black ice underneath. Even with the windshield wipers going at full speed, visibility was minimal.

  Leah longed to talk to him about the accident, but he had such a look of intense concentration on his face she didn’t want to be a distraction. She’d wait until he stopped. He hunched over the steering wheel, trying to peer through the thick white powder that coated the windshield faster than the wipers could clear it. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel revealed his tension. If only she could calm him down.

  * * *

  They should never have come out in this weather. Fear held his stomach in a vise grip, one that tightened as they inched along. Blizzard-force gales shook his compact car, shoving it first to one side and then the other. It grew harder and harder to see through the squall.

  The car fishtailed, and Kyle hyperventilated. No! He couldn’t repeat his worst nightmare. Please, God, please save Leah! I don’t care about myself. Just keep her safe.

  Time slowed down as the car spun in a circle. The blackness of the past loomed over him. Invisible hands closed around his neck, drew tighter, cutting off his breath, choking him.

  No other cars were on the road. They were alone. Unlike the night he’d driven Emma.

  He slipped back into the past. Anger consumed him. Emma was leaving him, returning to the Amish. Desperate words had burst from his lips. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you go. This baby is mine too, and I have a say.”

  Rage coursed through him, and he stomped on the gas. He always drove fast, but even he sensed his speed was reckless. Especially on a winter night. But he didn’t care. Whatever it took, he had to make her change her mind, come back to him.

  Kyle took his eyes off the road to shoot a furious glare in her direction. Emma stared at him with tear-filled eyes, and he regretted his harshness. But he’d never let her get away.

  A horse, his eyes wild, galloped straight toward them, dragging a buggy behind him. They were going to collide.

  He wrenched the steering wheel hard. Not hard enough. He met the eyes of the terrified girl inside. Another jerk on the steering wheel. The buggy careened past only a hairsbreadth away. The gray boxy carriage whooshed past his window, its wheels clattering.

  And then he made his fatal mistake.

  The car slid sideways. Hit a patch of ice. Spun toward a tree. He raised his foot from the gas pedal. Too little, too late. They sped toward it.

  Then sounds filled his ears. Sounds that still woke him in the dead of night.

  Emma’s screams. Crunching metal. Splintering glass. Ragged breathing.

  His. Not Emma’s.

  Because she lay crumpled and bleeding on the snow.

  * * *

  Ragged breathing filled the air around him. Not Emma. Leah. She sat beside him, gripping the armrest, her body rigid, gulping for breath, staring at him with panic-filled eyes.

  Those eyes. The same eyes from that long-ago night…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Leah sucked in a breath as the car fishtailed, then spun out of control. She bowed her head and prayed for their safety. Lord, give Kyle the wisdom to pull out of this.

  They were headed straight for a tree.

  When he’d turned and met her gaze, recognition had dawned in his eyes. He knew.

  She squeaked out, “I’m sorry.”

  But Kyle had already turned his attention back to the sliding car. He eased off the gas, turned the wheel in the opposite direction, and then righted it before lightly pumping the brakes.

  The car shuddered to a stop inches from the tree.

  Kyle leaned his head against the steering wheel. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

  They both trembled from the near miss. Adrenaline still raced through her, making her jittery, and blood pounded in her ears.

  “This”—Kyle waved his hand toward the snow—“happened before.”

  She nodded. “Only this time no runaway buggy forced you off the road.” Her voice was as shaky as his.

  “It was you,” he said dully.

  Leah hung her head. “Yes. I saw your car swerve, but I didn’t realize I’d caused an accident until days later when people at church mentioned what had happened to Emma. I apologized to the Eshes immediately, but it was a long time before Emma was well enough for me to ask for her forgiveness.” When Kyle winced, Leah laid a hand on his arm. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

  Kyle opened his mouth to protest, but Leah rushed on. “I never had a chance to confess my part in the accident because you left town right away. Ever since you returned, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you the truth. That accident wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

  He looked over at her with tortured eyes. “You aren’t to blame for my reckless driving. I was livid and driving much too fast for the conditions. Too fast even for normal conditions. Plus, I’d taken my eyes off the road.”

  “You’d never have skidded off the road if my horse hadn’t gone out of control,” Leah pointed out.

  “Maybe not at that spot, but I certainly would have hit a patch of ice somewhere, and maybe with more deadly results. Although they were…” His face scrunched into a mask of agony.

  “It’s all my fault. The guilt has been eating away at me ever since. I came out to your car at Ada’s wedding to ask your forgiveness.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive you for. It was my foolishness, my pride, my temper. I destroyed so many lives that day.”

  “You didn’t destroy anyone’s life. Everything’s over now, and Emma recovered.” Leah understood how he was feeling. She’d wrestled with her own guilt while Emma spent months in a coma and even longer recovering from amnesia. Not until she’d apologized to Emma and been forgiven did she experience closure. “Emma doesn’t seem to have suffered any lasting damage.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said in a broken voice. “I didn’t only hurt Emma. I killed our baby.”

  Leah sat stunned. A baby? Sick with guilt, Leah clenched her hands together in her lap. I killed a baby. An innocent baby.

  Kyle rubbed his fingers hard over his closed eyelids. Leah’s dad and brother often did that to hold back tears.

  She wished she could comfort him, but what could she say? The words I’m sorry seemed so inadequate in the face of the tragedy she’d caused. “I-I didn’t know…”

  “Nobody did.” His words, low and husky, added to her guilt. “We’d only recently learned she was pregnant.”

  An unborn baby. Poor Emma. To lose her first child. And Kyle too. How awful to feel responsible for your child’s death.

  He shouldn’t blame himself, though, when she was the cause. How could she get him to understand that?

  * * *

  Kyle had just blurted out a secret that he never should have shared with anyone. He trusted Leah, but suppose she let it slip to a friend or family member, and the story got back to Emma’s dad? He’d know who’d started the gossip. “Listen, what I just said—it’s private. I never should have told you about it.”

  “I’ll never share that with anyone.” Her expression revealed how seriously she took that promise.

  Deep inside, he trusted her, and he held her secret about never having a child in strictest confidence. Leah impressed him as loyal, and as a midwife, she’d know many families’ private matters. He’d never heard her divulge any of them. He appreciated her discretion, and it was such a relief to finally be able to talk to someone about the baby.

  Although both of them had stopped shaking after the near miss, Kyle’s anxiety levels remained high. No way could he get Leah home safely on these roads. Each bend in the road, each hidden
patch of ice posed grave danger. Even though he’d only been inching along, the car had spun out of control and almost slammed into that tree. Another foot or two, and Leah might not be sitting here right now. He shuddered to think what might have happened.

  “The Hesses’ house isn’t too far from here. I know Esther set strict rules about us being alone together in the house, but I don’t want to take a chance of another accident.” He promised himself he’d stay away from her. Though his attraction to her remained as strong as ever, her safety meant even more. He had to take care of her.

  Leah stared at the snow blanketing the windshield in the short time they’d been here. “I don’t want to take any more chances than we have to on these roads. I can sleep on the couch in the office, and we can keep the house door locked, so we’re still following Esther’s rules.”

  “The couch in the office is large enough for me, so I can take that. I’m sure Esther won’t mind if you sleep in the guest room.” He held up a hand to stop her protests. “You had surgery not long ago. You should be taking care of yourself.” Though he was pretty sure delivering babies had not been on her surgeon’s list of approved activities.

  Leah didn’t contradict him, but from the steely glint in her eyes, she planned to dispute the arrangements he’d suggested. He’d fight her, though. But they could discuss that once they left this storm behind.

  His heart tripping with trepidation, Kyle grasped the steering wheel and tapped the gas pedal. He blew out a breath as the tires bit into some gravel under the snow. He’d been worried he might have to dig them out of a ditch on the side of the road, but the car gained enough traction to move forward through the drifts.

  Beside him, Leah’s lips moved silently. No doubt she was praying. He should offer up a prayer of his own. One of gratitude to God for saving them from an accident. He’d wait until he got home to do that. Right now, he needed all his concentration for the road.

  By the time they’d crept a few blocks, Kyle’s hands ached from gripping the steering wheel, and his teeth throbbed from clenching his jaw. Foot by foot, they inched closer to the Hesses’ house.

  “What’s that?” Leah pointed into the trees at the side of the road.

  Kyle jumped. Her sudden sharp exclamation startled him so badly he jerked the wheel, sending them sliding, but he brought the car under control.

  “I’m so, so sorry.” Leah looked as if she were about to cry. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.” A confused look on her face, she peered out the window. “A light bobbed over there in the trees. I hope nobody is caught out in this storm.”

  No houses lined this stretch of road, so the person—if it was a person—would have to travel quite a distance to reach any shelter. As much as he disliked driving in this weather, he had to assist a person stuck in the blizzard.

  “Could it have been animal eyes?” he asked.

  “It disappeared now, but I don’t think so.” Leah scanned the dark woods. “I’m fairly sure it was a flashlight. I last saw it right over there.”

  As much as he’d like to believe it was her imagination or the headlights glinting on a piece of metal, Kyle had to check. What if a person had collapsed in the snow?

  He opened his car door. “I’d better take a look. Where did you see it again?”

  “Between that huge oak and the small sapling.” She pinpointed the direction for him.

  He shuffled through the calf-deep snow toward the trees she’d indicated. A quick rustling nearby caught his attention. He’d been right—Leah had seen an animal. The scrabbling stopped. Kyle turned to go, when a slight movement off to the right caught his attention. He stepped nearer.

  Cowering behind the oak, a young girl wrapped in a huge black cloak, wearing a black Amish bonnet, crouched back against the tree trunk as if trying to make herself invisible. Her eyes squeezed shut, she clutched a penlight in her hand. It amazed Kyle that Leah had spotted such a tiny light. No glow came from it now. Had the girl turned it off, or had her battery run out?

  “Are you all right?” Kyle asked. “What are you doing out in this storm?”

  The girl didn’t answer. Instead, she straightened from her hunched position, and her wide, fearful eyes darted from side to side as if seeking an escape route.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he assured her, but the anxiety didn’t leave her face.

  “Where are you heading?” Kyle asked. “We can drive you there.”

  “I don’t need help,” she rasped out.

  “I can’t leave you alone to find your way in a blizzard like this. Why don’t you—?”

  The girl groaned and doubled over. Her cloak hid her movements, but she seemed to be clutching her middle. His first thought was appendicitis.

  “You need help.” Without waiting for her consent, he swept an arm around her as soon as she stood upright. “Let’s get you to the car.” He had no idea if an ambulance could come out on such treacherous roads, but if she did have appendicitis, he’d have to get her to the hospital, even if it meant driving her there himself.

  The girl struggled to get away, and she was stronger than he’d expected from her petite height. Kyle kept a firm hand on her arm. She might not realize what danger she was in, but he was well aware of the complications if her appendix burst.

  They’d made it only halfway to the car before she doubled over again. Her face contorted, and low moans came from her lips. The way her arms were puffing out her cloak seemed odd, though. Almost as if…

  Before he could complete that thought, Leah hopped out of the car and hurried over. “What’s wrong?” Her practiced eye homed in on the problem immediately.

  The girl groaned and clutched at her middle. This time, in the faint light of a streetlight, her pregnancy became obvious. What he’d thought was her arms tenting out her cape when she stood among the dark trees turned out to be a baby bump.

  Leah stepped closer, slid her hand under the cloak, and placed it on the side of the girl’s protruding belly.

  Alarm in her eyes, she glanced up at him. “I’d say she’s in active labor. That contraction was strong.” She waited until it subsided before asking the girl, “How far apart are your contractions?”

  The girl stared at her with terrified eyes. “Let me go. Please. I can’t…” She moaned and doubled over.

  “She’s almost ready to deliver.” Leah used a calm voice, evidently hoping to soothe the edgy teen.

  Neither of them wanted to frighten her, but they had little time. He had to get her into the car.

  Once they reached the vehicle, Leah turned to Kyle. “We need to get her somewhere safe. How quickly can we make it to the office?” She opened the back door to the car. “If we get stuck, at least the seat is lined with blankets. Thank the Lord for small miracles.”

  Kyle was grateful for an even larger miracle. Leah’s presence. He could have done this alone if he had to, but having her here with him made it much easier to cope with everything that had happened in the past few hours. She’d likely be a calming influence on this agitated young girl.

  Kyle kept his arm tightly around the girl. From the tension in her body, she intended to bolt the first opportunity she got. “Can you get into the car now?”

  The girl pinched her lips together and shook her head.

  “So you’d rather have me carry you?” She obviously hadn’t expected that to be her other option.

  With a shaky no, she appeared to cooperate by taking the last few steps toward the backseat, but her gaze flitted toward the narrowing gap between her and the car. Kyle loosened his grip slightly as she bent over as if with another contraction. But when she tried to twist away, he hung on. She’d faked a contraction. She couldn’t deliver a baby out here in this weather. A newborn wouldn’t stand a chance of survival. Unless that had been what she’d intended?

  If so, he’d do everything he could to thwart her. Never, ever would a baby die under his watch.

  * * *

  As Kyle turned the car around, Leah swiveled
in her seat to study the girl, who appeared to be about sixteen. “Where were you headed in this storm?”

  A sullen look crossed the girl’s face, and she crossed her arms, her lips tight.

  Could she have made it any clearer that she didn’t want to communicate? She almost seemed angry they’d picked her up. Where could she possibly be headed during a snowstorm? Especially with no houses nearby. And why had she ventured out when her labor had started? If her parents discovered her missing, they’d be frantic.

  Kyle slid to a halt at the next intersection. “I guess I should obey this stop sign in case someone whizzed through.” His attempt at a joke fell a bit flat because of the tension lines etched into his face.

  Leah’s heart went out to him. He’d been through a horrible accident with Emma, where he’d lost his child. Then he’d come close to crashing into a tree a short while ago. Yet he continued to drive to get her and this teen to safety.

  While he was stopped, she said, “Maybe our friend might want to phone her family or a neighbor who can let her parents know she’s safe.”

  “Good idea.” Kyle pulled out his phone and handed it to Leah. “You gave your phone to Matthew. Do you need to call your family to let them know you’re safe?”

  “Um, no. Thank you for thinking of it. With all this snow falling, Joel had suggested I stay overnight at Matthew’s place tonight. He promised to stay at my parents’ house to keep an eye on them and to shovel out the parking lot tomorrow. It’s probably better not to worry them.”

  Besides, Leah would rather not endure the grilling she’d get if she told her parents or Joel she’d be spending the night at the Hesses’. Everyone in town, including her parents, knew the Hesses took their annual vacation this time of year. With the blinding snowstorm, she only hoped their arrival might pass unnoticed by any nearby neighbors.

  Leah held the phone out to the girl as Kyle crossed the intersection and headed down the last block. The teen’s quick intake of breath, followed by a long, low cry, indicated she was having another contraction. Leah prayed they’d make it in time. She assumed this was the girl’s first baby, so hopefully it might take its time.