Susie's Mammi (Amy's Story Book 2)

by Brenda Maxfield

  “Bye, Bart,” Beulah called into the front room, waving. “Bye, Mavis.”

  Amy thought she detected a bit of a tone in her sister’s last two words, but she hoped no one else noticed.

  “Why not ride with us?” Beulah suggested.

  Andrew’s brow rose. “You could, Amy. Susie’s well asleep.”

  “Sure, why not?” Bart offered from his spot on the sofa.

  “Come on,” Beulah said. “You hardly get outside anymore as it is.”

  “I-I don’t think…” Amy started, knowing Mavis would be enraged at the idea.

  “Jah,” Andrew said. “You and Beulah can chat on the way to your house. Then you can see your folks for a moment, too.”

  Amy felt stretched between two clothesline poles. But she was inclined to go. It’d be a lot more pleasant than staying here with Bart and Mavis. And it was true, Susie was down and would likely sleep for four or more hours.

  “All right,” she said. She saw the flash of pleasure in Andrew’s eyes, and it struck her like a warm squeeze to her chest. Was he that happy to have her go? Or was he making a statement to his mother-in-law? She didn’t know. All she did know was it made her shaky and suddenly nervous.

  Beulah grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the house and onto the porch with Andrew following them.

  “I’ll bring the cart around,” Andrew said. “I’ve already got it hitched.”

  “Take your time,” Beulah said with a laugh.

  The minute he was gone, she tugged on Amy’s arm. “You’re welcome,” she said.

  “For what?” Amy asked.

  “You know what. Now you and Andrew can ride back alone. Get a little peace. And…” Her eyes danced. “You can, you know, enjoy each other.”

  Amy pulled her arm away. “Beulah!”

  “Oh please, Amy. I’m not blind.”

  “Well, you must be, if you’re still implying what I think you’re implying…”

  Beulah groaned. “Fine. I’m not implying anything. But still, you’re welcome.”

  “I’m engaged, Beulah.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Beulah!”

  “I’m sorry, Amy, but you are the one who’s blind. Goodness. I always thought you were the smart one.”

  Amy glared at her sister and was ready to give her a retort, when Andrew drove the cart up to the porch. “Get on in,” he called.

  Beulah threw her bag into the small bed and then jumped in behind it, leaving the seat beside Andrew empty. Amy bit her lip, aggravated now, and not knowing what to do.

  “Get in, Amy,” Beulah urged. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

  Twilight had begun to fall, and no one really enjoyed driving a buggy or cart in the pitch dark.

  “I’ve got lights to hang,” Andrew said. “But we should make it in time.”

  Amy got into the buggy and settled next to Andrew. She left as much space between them as possible, though in a small cart, that wasn’t much. Andrew snapped the reins, and they got underway. No one spoke, and the silence bore into Amy. Why in the world wasn’t Beulah chattering like normal? She glanced back at her sister, noting the smug look on her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew said, breaking the silence.

  “For what?”

  “My mother-in-law.”

  Amy shook her head. “Please, don’t fret. You’ve already apologized, and truly, it isn’t necessary.”

  “I think it is,” Beulah piped up. “Why is she so angry with Amy? Amy’s done everything for Susie.”

  Andrew’s face turned red. “I know.”

  Amy could have slapped Beulah. Honestly, that sister of hers.

  “How’s your crop?” Amy blurted out, fully aware of how ridiculous the question was.

  First, Andrew looked surprised at her question, and then he grinned. “The crop is right fine, thanks.”

  “That’s gut,” Amy answered, smiling back.

  “Why, look at the buggy following us down the road,” Beulah said. “I do declare, it looks like the Rabers.”

  Amy froze. What? She turned around to see where Beulah was looking, and sure enough, she recognized both the Rabers’ buggy and their horse. She sucked in a quick breath. Who was driving? Oh, dear Lord, don’t let it be Peter.

  She whirled back around, clasping her hands in her lap. Andrew was watching her—she could feel it. He clicked his tongue, making his horse go a bit faster. In any case, the Rabers wouldn’t pass them; it was too dangerous to be passing each other on the main road, especially when darkness was beginning to fall.

  “I’ll wave at them,” Beulah said. “I can’t rightly tell who’s driving.”

  Don’t let it be Peter. Don’t let it be Peter.

  “Maybe, it’s Peter,” Andrew said. “If you want, Amy, I can let you off. Then you can ride with him.”

  Amy’s throat went dry. This was getting worse and worse.

  “Ach, nee,” Beulah said from behind. “I want her to see Mamm and Dat. We can just wave if it’s Peter.”

  Amy’s jaw tensed. Was nothing in her control anymore? Yet she had to admit, she wasn’t in the mood to ride out with Peter right then. Her thoughts were so affixed on Susie, and Mavis, and Andrew, that she wouldn’t be good company to him.

  “It’s Zack,” Beulah said. Amy turned to see her sister waving. So, she waved, too.

  Zach wasn’t all that visible in his covered buggy, but he did wave back. Amy breathed out in relief. As far as she knew, Peter’s father didn’t know Peter was courting her, so hopefully, he wouldn’t give where she was sitting a second thought.

  Amy was grateful when Andrew turned into her parents’ drive.

  “If you need any more help,” Beulah said, “you just let me know, Andrew.”

  Amy’s heart warmed at her sister’s words.

  “And Susie is beautiful,” Beulah went on. “She’s going to miss Amy, you know.”

  “I do know,” Andrew said, his voice solemn. He stopped before the porch and Thomas came right out.

  “Hello,” he said, coming down the steps. “I never expected to see you this evening.” He looked about. “Where’s Susie?”

  “Mavis and Bart have arrived,” Andrew said by way of explanation. “And Susie’s asleep.”

  “So, you girls are back,” Thomas said.

  “Only me, Dat,” Beulah said, jumping out of the buggy. She grabbed her bag and went to stand on the step beside him. “Amy’s going to stay the night. Susie didn’t like Mavis so much.”

  “Beulah,” Amy cried. “She’s just not used to her is all.”

  Fiona pushed through the screen. “Ah, Beulah and Amy. You’re home. Andrew, you want to come in for a bit? I can make some tea.”

  “Nee. I need to get back,” he said.

  “Amy ain’t staying, Mamm,” Beulah said. “Susie needs her for another night at least.”

  “I take it Grace’s folks have arrived.”

  “They sure have,” Beulah said tartly. She looked at Andrew. “Thanks for the ride home, Andrew.”

  “I’m thanking you, Beulah. For all your help.”

  Beulah laughed. “It weren’t much. It was mostly Amy, as all of us know.” With that, she disappeared into the house.

  “Are you sure you can’t stay for some tea?” Fiona asked.

  “I really can’t,” Andrew said.

  “Amy, it’s nice to see you,” Thomas commented, resting his hand on the side of the cart.

  “You doing all right, daughter?” Fiona asked Amy.

  Now, how was she supposed to answer that with Andrew right there? But she supposed she was doing fine—if she didn’t consider how much she was going to miss Susie and how difficult Mavis Hershberger was.

  “Jah, Mamm. Fine.” She felt Andrew tense beside her.

  “Well, we won’t keep you,” Thomas said, taking a step back. “If you need anything, Andrew, I’m here.” He drew in a breath. “I’m always here for you.”

  Andrew nodded. “Thank you, Tho
mas. I count on that.”

  Amy waved at her parents as Andrew drove the cart back out onto the road. But when he got there, he turned the opposite way. Amy glanced at him.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I thought we could each use a few more minutes of quietness before heading back. Just a small detour.”

  Amy didn’t know how she felt about that. She didn’t really want to be seen riding with Andrew alone. He pulled up on the reins and fiddled with the lamps, hanging them before continuing. She watched him. Watched his smooth movements, the easy way he took care of things.

  “My buggy has gas-run lights, but I still have to hang these on the cart. The buggy has spoiled me, I’m afraid.”

  “Jah. Dat’s buggy has those automatic lights, too. And jah, they do spoil a person.”

  He laughed, seeming quite content to be discussing something so trivial. But then he sobered. “I don’t rightly know what Susie will do without you,” he said, his voice now low and serious.

  “I-I… She’ll adjust to Mavis,” Amy said. “It’ll just take some time.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s awful attached to you.”

  Amy’s lip quivered, and she averted her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with such talk.”

  “It’s no burden,” she answered quickly. “I’m going to miss her, too.”

  “And I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” he said and then coughed and cleared his throat. “I mean, well, you’ve been such a help.”

  “Mavis will step in,” Amy said, but the words scraped up her throat. She didn’t want Mavis to step in. She wanted to do it.

  They both fell silent again. The air still held most of the warmth of the late summer day, but since the sun had gone down, there was a growing coolness to it. They were alone on the road, and the solitude was pleasant. The horse seemed content to trot at a lazy pace, and the clip clop of the hooves was relaxing. Cicadas chirped into the stillness, and Amy heard more than one cricket calling its mate.

  The swinging lanterns made the light dance on the road. Amy took a deep breath, letting the atmosphere fill her with serenity. She needed to enjoy these moments. Andrew was wise to take a detour—it was exactly what she needed.

  “Amy?”

  “Jah?”

  “How are you doing, really?”

  Amy’s brow rose. “I’m fine.”

  “I miss Grace.”

  Amy blew out her breath in a rush. “So do I.”

  “She’d be happy you’ve been here. Happy to have you watch over Susie.”

  “I-I hope so.”

  “She’d be happy to know you watched over me, too.”

  “But… I didn’t watch over you…” But she had. Of course, she had. But talking about it in the darkness, feeling Andrew’s presence so close… She couldn’t speak of it.

  There was an intimacy between them that made her want to squirm. Because the truth of it was, she also wanted to lean on his shoulder, draw strength from him. She wanted to weep against him, weep for their loss. For wasn’t that the cause of this tender feeling between them? They were yoked together in grief. She, for her best friend. And he, for his lost wife.

  He reached over and took her hand, clasping it strongly for only a second. Then he drew away and held onto the reins once again. She stared down at her hand in the shadowy darkness. She felt his warmth that he’d taken away so quickly. All of a sudden, she wanted to cry.

  And then her thoughts went to Peter. She needed to see him. Why, she hadn’t seen him for what seemed ages now. She missed him. Missed his friendly smile. It was odd. When she thought of Peter’s smile, Andrew’s face crowded it out, and instead, she saw Andrew’s sad smile.

  Ach, but she was a jumble of emotions. Better to ignore it all and concentrate on the task at hand. And right then, her task was to go back to Andrew’s house and make sure Susie was happy and comfortable.

  And to try to make peace with Mavis.

  She shuddered. That was a tall order.

  Chapter Eleven

  Andrew let Amy off by the porch and drove the cart to the barn. It was late. His detour had taken longer than he’d planned, but it had been nice. The first real peace he’d felt in a long time. Funny, how comfortable he was with Amy. He supposed it was natural since they’d been thrown together for so long. But there was something about her. A calmness, a goodness that permeated the air around her. More and more, he could see why she’d been Grace’s best friend.

  But the detour was over. He needed to see to his horse and then get back inside. In a way, he felt guilty for sending Amy in ahead of him. But how would it have looked for her to hang about while he unhitched the pony from the cart? And Amy was strong—she could hold her own with his mother-in-law.

  He cringed at the thought of Mavis. She was in a fine kettle that day. But he felt for her. She’d lost her daughter and her father in the short space of a month or so. He imagined that could do anyone in. But still, did she have to be so curt? And curt wasn’t even the word for it. She’d been scathing to Amy—and it was completely undeserved. She ought to be singing Amy’s praises.

  He certainly was.

  He hung up the reins and put his pony in her stall, giving her a handful of grain.

  “You done good,” he said, rubbing her nose. “Well, there’s nothing for it except to get on inside.”

  He squared his shoulders and headed for the house. He didn’t hear any noise as he went inside. Where was everyone? He went to the front room and saw Bart dozing in the rocking chair, his chin on his chest. Andrew smiled. Bart and Mavis had traveled a long way that day. He glanced about, seeing no sign of either Mavis or Amy.

  He went to the kitchen, but he already knew no one was there, considering the lantern wasn’t lit. He went upstairs, pausing outside Susie’s door. He still didn’t hear anything. He pushed the door open and saw Mavis lying on the single bed. Her back was toward him, but considering how still she was, he figured she’d fallen asleep. All was quiet in the cradle, too.

  He stepped back out of the room. He’d given Mavis and Bart the bedroom down the hallway for the night. He knew they’d want to spend the night there, even though their own home was only a couple miles down the road. It seemed that the bedroom he’d offered hadn’t been close enough to Susie for Mavis’s liking. Well, they could straighten it all out in the morning.

  So, where was Amy? He stopped outside her bedroom door, listening. Nothing. And then the bathroom door at the end of the hallway opened, and Amy stepped out. Her eyes widened when she saw him. He smiled and went toward her.

  “Susie’s still sleeping,” he whispered.

  “Jah. And Mavis is in there…”

  “I saw.”

  “I don’t imagine she’ll be happy about me coming in during the night. Shall I leave the night feedings to her?”

  Andrew shook his head. Susie still wasn’t comfortable with her, and he was worried she’d take fright if Amy didn’t go in. “Let’s see how it goes.”

  “All right. I’ll be ready when I hear her stir.”

  “Thank you, Amy.”

  She nodded and made a move to pass him and go to her room, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. His face went hot, and he was glad there was only the light from her candle illuminating them. Now that he’d grabbed her, he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. He dropped his hand.

  “Gut night,” he muttered.

  She gave him a perplexed look and then smiled. “Gut night.” She walked past him and disappeared into her room.

  * * *

  It was after midnight before Susie began to fuss. Amy was instantly awake. Her feet were already on the floor before she remembered that Mavis was in there. Still, the bottle would need warming. She grabbed her thin robe and put it on—something she hadn’t bothered to do most nights. She lit her candle and went right downstairs to the fridge.

  She winced when she heard Susie’s cry turning more frantic.
Of course, that might only be because she was hungry. It might not have a thing to do with Mavis. The bottle didn’t take long to warm, and she was back up the stairs as quickly as possible.

  “Here,” she said to Mavis, walking into the dark room with her flickering candle. “Here’s her bottle.”

  The minute Susie heard Amy’s voice, her cries calmed to whimpers.

  “Thank you,” Mavis said, reaching for the bottle.

  Susie twisted in Mavis’s arms toward Amy. She let out a wail, and it was clear to Amy that she wanted her. But how could she snatch Susie away from Mavis?

  Mavis sat down in the rocker and tried to get Susie to take the bottle. Susie kept squirming and fussing.

  “Come on, little Susie,” Mavis crooned, but Amy heard the stress in her voice, which must have been projected onto Susie. For Susie took a few gulps and then let out a wail to shake the rafters. Amy’s arms itched to take the child. She held her breath, forcing herself not to move.

  Amy thought she heard footsteps. Was it Andrew in the hallway? If it was, he must have decided to let them handle it for he didn’t appear. Finally, Mavis handed the baby to Amy.

  “Take her. She don’t know me yet.”

  Susie settled right down in Amy’s arms and took the bottle hungrily. Amy perched on the edge of the bed feeding her while Mavis stayed in the rocker. The sole candle didn’t give much light, and Amy couldn’t see Mavis’s face clearly. She didn’t know what she was thinking. But the quietness was calm, almost peaceful-like.

  The silence was broken only by occasional slurping sounds from Susie. Amy didn’t say anything, for fear she might upset Mavis. It was odd to think that Mavis used to welcome Amy into her house with open arms.

  And then, into the silence came the question. “Did she suffer?”

  Amy gave a start and looked at Mavis. “Grace?”

  “Jah. When she fell—did she suffer before she … died?” Her voice was so full of pain that Amy’s throat immediately filled with tears.