The Baby Next Door

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The Baby Next Door Page 5

by Vannetta Chapman


  “Uh-uh.”

  “Ya. They were on the floor, in the pantry, even under the sink. You wouldn’t think a dozen goats could fit in here, but they did.”

  “Goat,” Ben declared from his place on the floor, then banged a wooden spoon against a pot.

  “That’s not the funniest part. Ben was standing in the middle of the goats, tears streaming down his face. The biggest goat had taken his cookie.”

  “Goat.” Ben rocked up onto all fours and crawled over to his mother, pulling up and resting his cheek against her lap.

  “I’m telling you, it’s amazing he wasn’t traumatized, and praise Gotte I had the baby in my arms. Best I could tell, they’d busted through the screen of the back door. I’d left the actual door open because it was such a pretty day. But those goats scattered all over my kitchen, and Ben crying... It’s a sight I’ll remember even when Ben has children of his own.”

  Suddenly Grace felt better, because she had an idea how to stop the tours, one that might be seen as Adrian’s fault instead of hers. After all, to the best of her knowledge, he had never reinforced his fence around the pasture where he was keeping the new pygmy goats. Also, it just happened to be located on the side of his property that shared a boundary with theirs. In fact, it was very near where they’d had the last picnic.

  Which couldn’t be a coincidence.

  It felt...it felt more like providence.

  The next morning, she rose in a better mood. It was true that a tour group—another full tour group of twenty people, Adrian had announced gleefully—was coming, but she had a plan that just might work this time.

  When Nicole went down for her morning nap, Grace picked up the bowl of vegetable scraps and headed toward the fence line, toward Adrian’s pygmy goats.

  Thanks to Adrian’s enthusiasm and her parents’ willingness to listen to anything, she now knew all about pygmy goats.

  They grew as tall as fifteen to twenty inches.

  Does could weigh thirty-five to fifty pounds. Males usually weighed in at forty to sixty.

  Basically, they were the size of a medium dog.

  She was prepared not to like them, but there was something about goats that made a person laugh. She squatted at the fence line, feeding them carrot tops, wilted lettuce leaves and cucumber peels. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching through the fence and touching their soft fur. Three were gray—ranging from a soft color, like a skein of yarn her mother knitted with, to a dark gray, like storm clouds. Two more were black with white splotches. And the final three reminded her of a box of chocolates her father had bought for Christmas one year—everything from light to medium to dark caramel.

  Suddenly she found herself thinking of Adrian’s eyes.

  Adrian’s eyes!

  She stood, brushed her hands and checked the gate, which allowed access for her dat and Adrian to move more easily between the two properties. Apparently they were now working together on a few projects. The gate wasn’t locked, only latched... It would be easy enough to slip it open after the guests arrived.

  And really, a goat could do that without her help, if it had the right motivation.

  She had more salad scraps in the kitchen.

  It was as she was walking back toward the house that she came across her dat mending a harness for the workhorses. He smelled of dirt and crops and horses. He smelled like the father who had been there for her all her life. Though he was a man of few words, she understood that he loved her and Nicole, and that he would always provide for them.

  “Hold this for me while I mend the strap?”

  “Sure.”

  They worked without talking, a comfortable, peaceful silence, until he’d finished and thanked her. She’d begun to walk away when he called out to her.

  “Adrian’s a gut man.”

  She turned, cocked her head and waited.

  “I know you don’t agree with this tour thing. I know it’s hard for you.”

  “That’s true, and I have good reasons—”

  “I don’t need to know why, Grace. The fact that it is hard for you, that’s what matters. I’m sorry for that. But this farm needs all the income it can earn... Our family needs all the income we can earn. We won’t be passing up gut work that the Lord provides for us. That would be wrong, in my opinion.” Then he turned back to the harness, having said his piece.

  Leaving Grace wondering if she really wanted to follow through with her plan to put a stop to Adrian’s tour groups once and for all.

  * * *

  The third tour group could not have gone better. Adrian was growing quite comfortable with talking in front of groups, and the tourists seemed generally interested in his animals. His favorite part, though, was when they wandered off on their own and enjoyed God’s creations. That was when he noticed the smiles blooming and the worry lines draining away, as if for a moment at least, they had laid down a burden.

  He arrived at Grace’s place, surprised to find her mamm greeting the group and directing them toward the back pond.

  Seth led the group that wanted to walk, while Grace’s dat helped the others onto the hayride. Adrian held back.

  “Something wrong, Adrian?” Grace’s mamm had always been kind yet to the point. No use trying to beat around the bush with Leslie Troyer.

  “I didn’t see Grace, and I was wondering if she’s oll recht.”

  “Grace is already at the back pasture with Nicole. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect when the Englischers arrived.”

  “Or sabotage it,” he muttered under his breath, but Leslie heard him.

  If she was offended, she didn’t show it. Instead, she walked down the porch steps carrying a large basket of hot rolls. He could smell the yeast and butter, and it caused his stomach to growl.

  “Let’s walk together.”

  “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “You were only being honest. We both know that the ruined casseroles and bumblebees weren’t a mistake.”

  “If you knew, why didn’t you—”

  “Stop her?” Leslie shrugged. “First off, I didn’t know until after the fact. And secondly, have you ever tried to stop Grace when she has her mind set on something?”

  “Then the tours are doomed.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “I don’t understand why she’s so dead set against them. In fact, I’d thought she would welcome a chance to make a little extra income.”

  “Her dat and I certainly do.”

  “But Grace...”

  Leslie stopped, her attention on a week-old calf and the cow that was attending to it. She looked back at him, smiled and continued walking. He hurried to catch up with her. The Troyer women, they were all fast walkers.

  “Was I supposed to understand something about Grace, based on that calf?”

  “Oh, Adrian.” Leslie’s smile was genuine, and he couldn’t have felt offended if he’d tried. She wasn’t laughing at him, he was sure of that, but she was amused at the current situation.

  “Grace has five schweschdern. Did you know that?”

  “I suppose I’ve never stopped to count.”

  “And Grace is the youngest and closest to your age... No, maybe Georgia is the closest to your age.”

  “Ya. Georgia and I were in the same grade at school.”

  “So, six girls. We’ve been through quite a bit, as far as beaus and husbands and bopplin.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My girls all have different personalities, though they are all stubborn to the core. They get that from their dat.” She smiled at her joke.

  They were in sight of the group now, and Leslie stopped, surveyed it, then turned to search his eyes.

  “One thing I can tell you for certain is that each of those girls will do anything to protect and care for their children. Just
like that cow and calf. It’s nature’s way. It’s Gotte’s way.”

  “Okay, but how does a tour group threaten Nicole?”

  “I don’t know.” She said it simply, and one thing that Adrian understood in that moment was that she wasn’t concerned at all. “Gotte will take care of Nicole. We can trust He will take care of all of us, but Grace is new at raising a child.”

  “It’s so kind of Grace to raise her cousin’s boppli.” When Leslie gave him an odd look and waited, he crossed and uncrossed his arms. “I... What I mean to say is that I’ve tried, but it’s hard to imagine taking on that kind of responsibility. I mean, I have responsibilities with the animals, but it’s not the same.”

  Leslie glanced toward Grace, then back at Adrian.

  He squirmed under her gaze, but he waited. He felt like there was something he needed to understand about this conversation. But he didn’t.

  “For whatever reason, Grace is being extra careful with Nicole. The thing is... The reason doesn’t matter.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “Adrian, I think you’ve hitched the buggy in front of the horse.”

  “What?”

  She patted his arm. “Stop trying to figure out what Grace is concerned about and just get to know her.”

  She walked off toward the group that was now once again scattered around the pond and at the picnic tables. Grace was walking from group to group, a pitcher of tea in one hand, holding Nicole on her hip with the other.

  Just get to know her.

  He had been thinking of Grace as a means to an end. He resisted the urge to slap his forehead with his hand. Basically, he was using her. No wonder she didn’t trust him. And the worry about Englischers around Nicole? He didn’t have to understand that. After all, she was Nicole’s mamm. She knew what was best for her child.

  How arrogant of him to think that he might know more on that topic than she did.

  Grace looked up at that moment, and Adrian smiled and waved—as he had done at church. This time instead of ignoring him, she smiled back and nodded, then turned her attention to the Englischer who was asking for more tea.

  The meal progressed well. The food was delicious. No bees attacked. It was... It was picture-perfect. Adrian began to relax and enjoy himself. He began to wonder about how he might get to know Grace Troyer.

  In fact, where was she?

  He checked each group but didn’t see her. Leslie was watching over Nicole, who was yawning and sticking her two fingers into her mouth. Adrian turned in a circle, looking for Grace, and saw her standing next to the fence line, right before his goats crashed through the gate and made a beeline for the picnic.

  Immediately there were pygmy goats everywhere—in the pond, on the tables, and one was even tugging on an Englisch woman’s purse. His smallest goat had taken an interest in a tablecloth and was trying to pull it off the table. An Englisch man grabbed the other end and proceeded to engage in a bizarre tug-of-war.

  Nicole was pointing and laughing.

  James and Seth were attempting to herd the goats back toward the fence.

  Leslie had grabbed the platter with the coconut cake and was holding it above her head as two of the goats bumped against her legs.

  And Grace...

  Grace was standing at the fence line, a huge smile on her face.

  Chapter Five

  It took a half hour to gather up the goats and move them back to their side of the fence. Grace was dismayed to note that the Englischers seemed more entertained than perturbed. Several had pulled out their phones and snapped pictures. She even heard one woman say, “I’d heard about these tours. Someone posted on their blog that you could always count on a surprise twist. Wait until I tell my daughters about these goats. What a hoot!”

  Her plan had clearly backfired.

  Grace expected Adrian to confront her, but although he looked in her direction several times, he didn’t seek her out. She was a little disappointed, as she had her defense all ready.

  First, he needed a better latch on the gate.

  Second, she’d agreed not to sabotage the dinner and she hadn’t. The cooking was spot-on.

  And third, well, she didn’t have a third reason, but she would have come up with one if he’d asked.

  He didn’t.

  He left with Seth after the Englischers had tramped through their house and bought more of her mamm’s knitting—receiving blankets and baby booties and small sweaters with matching hats.

  “Good thing I have a large amount of items completed already.” Her mamm glanced up and smiled, then waved the money she was about to put into the mason jar they kept for emergencies. Most of their income went in the bank, what little they had. But the mason jar was the extra-money jar. It paid for birthday gifts and doctors’ visits and dinners out. “Two hundred and forty dollars, Grace. It’s a real blessing for sure.”

  How could Grace argue with that?

  Adrian didn’t stop by that evening or the next morning, but toward dinner on Wednesday, he knocked on the front door. Did she imagine it, or did he purposely show up when they were about to eat? Not that she could blame him. No doubt his cooking skills were limited, and his kitchen—well, it could hardly be called that.

  Grace had made a casserole that combined ground beef, cheese and noodles. She served it with a side salad and green beans, and for dessert, she’d made oatmeal pie. As aggravated as she was with him, something in Grace wanted to feed Adrian. Maybe it was her nesting instincts. Maybe it was the fact that he was so tall and thin. If he turned sideways you could look his direction and miss him. Okay, he wasn’t that thin, but nearly.

  Whatever the reason, she waved him to the seat across from her and hopped up to fetch an extra plate.

  Dinner conversation jumped back and forth between the topics of crops, animals and church. No one mentioned tour groups, although it seemed to Grace that they must be on everyone’s mind. It was almost as if they were afraid of setting her off.

  She wasn’t an ogre.

  She didn’t lash out at people.

  Though she had to admit her behavior had been less than stellar. In fact, she wasn’t proud of the steps she’d taken to put a stop to the tours. They had seemed necessary at the time. Had they truly been necessary? Had she been wrong? She’d been quite conflicted about her sabotage efforts the evening before as she’d read her Bible. She’d been working her way through the gospels, and the twelfth chapter of Mark seemed to be written specifically to her.

  Love thy neighbor as thyself.

  That was the problem with the Bible. It was so black-and-white. It didn’t leave much room for her justifying her actions. Still, she could defend what she’d done. She was protecting her child. What if Nicole’s father showed up, out of the blue, and demanded joint custody? What would she do then?

  Nein. She couldn’t conceive such a thing.

  So what if she added too much salt to a dinner or attracted bees or unleashed goats? No one was hurt by her actions. Perhaps Adrian would grow tired of her antics and find another cook.

  The Englischers would stop coming by the farm, and Nicole would be safe.

  Love thy neighbor as thyself.

  She certainly wouldn’t want to be served a bad-tasting meal, and some people were afraid of bees. As far as the goats, everyone had been entertained by the little pygmies, which was beside the point. In truth, she was rather ashamed of herself but didn’t know what to do about it.

  When she began clearing the dishes, Adrian once again dried and put things away as she washed.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Help?”

  “Yes, help.”

  “You don’t want help?”

  “I don’t understand why you’re standing here in my kitchen holding a dish towel.” Her face, neck and ears suddenly felt unbearably hot. She wond
ered if she was coming down with something. “I don’t understand the why of it.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to help me, Adrian? Don’t you need to get back to your zoo?”

  “Even I grow tired of animals now and then. Their conversation isn’t as gut as yours.”

  Which was patently not true. She was a terrible conversationalist. She never knew what to say to a man. They’d already covered the safe topics at dinner. Would Adrian be interested in hearing about Nicole’s latest achievements? The way she’d smiled up at Grace when she fetched her from her nap or that she’d patted Grace’s face and said “mine”? Had she meant “mamm”? Or had she claimed Grace as her own? Why would Adrian want to hear about any of that?

  Maybe she was overthinking everything.

  She wasn’t sure.

  Having grown tired of waiting for a response, Adrian nudged her shoulder with his. “I saw that Nicole was standing in the middle of the room earlier—without holding on to a thing.”

  “Did you see that?” Grace beamed with pleasure, as if she had something to do with Nicole’s standing ability. “She’s a smart girl.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Earlier today, she squatted to pick up a toy.”

  “Squatted?”

  “Ya. It’s an important milestone, or so my Milestones for Your Child book states.”

  “There’s a book called Milestones for Your Child?”

  “Not my point. Up until then, if she wanted something, she would crawl over, plop down and then drag it toward herself.”

  “But today she squatted?”

  “She did.” Grace laughed with him. “Sounds like a small achievement, I know, but it filled my heart with joy. She was holding on to the coffee table, walking around it and laughing, as she does when she thinks she’s getting away from something.”

  “She’s a gut-natured child.”

  “And then she saw her baby doll on the floor. She pivoted, squatted and picked up the doll.” Grace plunged her hands back into the soapy water. “Children are amazing.”

 

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