The Amish Midwife (The Amish Bachelors 2; Lancaster Courtships 3)

by Patricia Davids

  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

  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 i
n 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 cou
ld 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?”