[2016] The Precious Amish Baby

by Faith Crawford

  “We shouldn’t be laughing,” Clive said, wiping his eyes.

  “We shouldn’t,” Cynthia agreed solemnly.

  Chapter Eight

  Clive stared at Beatrice dispassionately. She had flung herself on the couch and was admiring her painted nails. In the kitchen, Clive could hear Cynthia getting their dinner ready. He could feel his temper rising and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

  “Where’s Nathan?” he asked between clenched teeth.

  She looked up at him, her eyebrow arched. He fought the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her until sense seeped its way into her brain. He had only seen her hold the child once in the last ten days and even then, for no longer than a minute. Nathan had screamed his head off and Beatrice had held him away from her as though he would retch his dinner on her dress.

  “Your son?”

  Comprehension dawned and she smiled sweetly.

  “The nurse has him I suppose.”

  “The nurse?” Clive asked and when he understood what she meant, he felt his muscles quivering and a dark cloud beginning to cover his brain. She was baiting him, Clive told himself. He must not rise to her bait. The last ten days had been the longest in his life.

  Beatrice had done her best to treat Cynthia like a servant, who, bless her, had maintained her calm and pleasant persona. Still, it grated him and he didn’t know how long he could bear it for. He found Cynthia in the kitchen with Nathan perched on her hip as she stirred the pot.

  She gave him a sweet smile but he could see the strain she had been under. There were dark circles under her beautiful eyes and it pained him to know that he was the cause of it, albeit by association. He went to her and nibbled on her ear. He inhaled her sweet scent and buried his face in her hair.

  “I’m so sorry love, I promise it will soon be over,” he said.

  “I know,” she murmured back.

  He took Nathan from her and went to sit down on the table.

  “I’ll be away tomorrow and the day after,” Clive said in a low tone. “Fifty beef cattle are due to be shipped the day after and I’ll need to escort them to Newtown. Will you be alright?”

  Instead of answering, Cynthia’s eyes were glued to the entrance of the kitchen. He looked up and groaned aloud when he saw Beatrice.

  “She’ll be alright, aren’t I here?” she said.

  The rest of the evening was filled with tension as each of them kept their thoughts to themselves. He could see that the news that he would be away had affected Cynthia. He vowed to himself that when he returned home he would resolve the issue once and for all.

  “How’s the market then?” Beatrice asked conversationally.

  “It’s alright,” Clive said, surprised that she had even asked. Beatrice had never had any interest in the ranch whatsoever.

  “Fifty heads you said?” she asked, a shrewd look crossing her face.

  “Yes,” Clive said, unwilling to confide in her.

  She clamped up after that.

  That night in bed, no matter how much he tried to draw her out, Cynthia was unresponsive. She seemed so sad and he could not cheer her up. She fell asleep in his arms, clinging to him as though she were drowning. His own heart felt torn up into pieces.

  Sleep did not come easy and when he woke up the following morning, he was groggy from lack of sleep. He dressed quietly so as not to wake Cynthia and the baby. He had laid out his clothes the previous night. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and did the same with Nathan, and then he tiptoed out.

  It was still dark as he stepped out the kitchen door. He touched the rifle hanging from his belt for reassurance. The wind howled as if it too disagreed with his going away. He paused for a second, contemplating sending off his ranch hands without him. But that cattle drives still carried a lot of risks. The cattle were branded, however if they were not well protected, rustlers could still strike during the short drive to Newtown. He felt pulled in two different directions but at the end, he shook off his worries and headed towards the barn.

  An hour later and they had left the town and were deep in the terrain that would lead them to Newtown. Clive knew his way even without consulting the hills strategically positioned at various points. He kept watch on the terrain and on each end of the herd were two hired pointers whose job it was to ensure that the herd did not stray.

  They made good progress covering thirty miles that first day. Clive expected to cross the River Mistral that evening and from there, the town was only an hour away. He knew he was pushing the cowboys and the cattle herd, but he wanted to complete his business and return home.

  As expected, they reached the river before darkness set in. His muscles ached from the strain of riding all day and staying alert. There was little current and the wind was favorable and he knew that they would be able to cross it.

  “How about we cross it tomorrow morning boss?” one cowboy suggested. “No point in going across and reaching Newtown in the night.”

  Clive saw the wisdom of that though his whole being told him otherwise.

  “Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let’s set up camp for the night.”

  His mouth parched with thirst. Clive slid down from his stallion and went to the river. He scooped water and drank it straight from the river. He scooped some more and washed his face. He wondered what Nathan and Cynthia were doing? If that woman so much as touched a hair on Cynthia’s head, he would wring her neck, Clive thought with uncharacteristic aggression.

  A fire was lit and the whole group gathered around and roasted maize over the open fire. Then someone started playing harmonica and Clive leaned back on a tree trunk and closed his eyes. He missed Cynthia with a physical ache. She had warmed her way into his heart. He thought of Beatrice and felt cheated of a happy marriage now that he knew that two people could live contentedly together. He fell asleep to soulful tunes.

  Clive woke up in the dead of the night, his head attuned to his turn for keeping watch.

  “Go on, have some rest,” Clive told the cowboy on watch.

  He strode around the herd and then picked a strategic position where he could see anyone approaching the herd and the sleeping men. It was minutes after two in the morning and the only sounds to be heard were the distant cry of hyenas and coyotes.

  Clive was glad when dawn broke and he briskly woke the men up. He hurried everyone through the breakfast of bread and water and by half six, the group and herd were crossing the river. The water was cold on his legs though his cowboy boots protected him from the worst of it.

  Later in the afternoon, after Clive had concluded his business, he felt free as he rode home, the journey much faster without a herd to see to. His mind was entirely on Cynthia and he urged his stallion to go faster. He could see his ranch hands struggling to keep up and they soon gave up and trailed behind.

  Clive only slowed down when he reached the outskirts of town and then took the road towards the ranch. It was dusk by the time he veered off the road towards the drive to home. In the distance, he could see the house. A dim light illuminated from the front room and he longed for the warmth of home, which he knew came from Cynthia’s presence.

  He grinned as he thought of seeing Cynthia and Nathan. She would be surprised and delighted to see him, Clive thought. She was expecting him the day after and he could not wait to see the expression on her face. Clive rode the horse towards the back of the house, to the barns.

  At the entrance, he dismounted and stretched his feet. Suddenly he wished that he had bought Cynthia and Nathan some presents. He had been in such a rush to get back home that the thought had not crossed his mind. Oh well, he hoped that his early arrival would be a good enough gift. He stepped into the shed and made his way in the darkness, knowing the layout of the barn.

  He took his stallion to his cubicle and was about to remove the saddle and quickly brush him down when he thought he heard a movement inside the barn. He was silent for a few seconds, his ears on alert for any noise. When he heard nothing else, he
continued removing the saddle.

  Clive heard a movement close to him but before he could react, he felt a blow to the side of his head and his legs gave way. Cynthia! His brain called out before he lost consciousness.

  Chapter Nine

  Cynthia paced the length of the bedroom, her palms wet with fear. She just did not know what to do. She knew that Clive was in trouble. Just hours earlier, she had noticed that Beatrice kept leaving the house for the barn and gathering her courage, she had tiptoed after her. She had stood outside the barn door, left slightly ajar and to her shock had heard a male voice whispering to Beatrice.

  Cynthia had bravely stepped further in to hear their conversation. What she heard had made her heart almost stop beating. It seemed that Beatrice and whomever she was talking to in urgent tones planned on robbing Clive when he returned home. Cynthia had tiptoed out when the two started arguing over Clive’s arrival time.

  Her ears cocked to the door, she listened to Beatrice’s return to the house. She glanced at Nathan sleeping soundly in his bed. She worried for him too. Did they plan on taking Nathan with them? She peeked out the window and saw nothing but pure darkness. It was nine in the evening and the night held an air of fear, or maybe it was just her, after what she had learned.

  She was stuck in the house, with no way of calling for help. The ranch hand quarters were on the northern end of the ranch and she could not leave Nathan alone to ask for help. Cynthia sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands grasping her knees. Then in the silence, a noise from the back of the house reached her. She sat stock still, trying to decipher what she had heard.

  Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Cynthia shot up and went to the kitchen. With trembling fingers, she pushed open the door. Before stepping out into the night, she said a quick prayer. Dear Lord, please protect Nathan and Clive wherever he is.

  Cynthia had no plan but she knew it was time to confront Beatrice and whoever she was with. Her whole body trembling and her breath coming out in quick gasps, Cynthia hurried towards the barn. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see that the barn door was flung open. She almost collapsed with fright when Beatrice came out, her eyes looking wild and her hair disheveled.

  She halted suddenly when she saw Cynthia. Just then, a man with a hat pulled low so that his eyes were not visible stepped out.

  “Is that her?” he growled.

  “Yes,” Beatrice sneered, her words laced with dislike.

  “You don’t want to get yourself hurt lady,” the man said, taking a step closer to Cynthia.

  She could smell his breath and she shuddered on realizing that he was probably drunk. She pulled her shoulders back and stared at the couple, hiding the fear she felt.

  “What do you want?” Cynthia asked.

  “What business is it of yours?” Beatrice asked in a hard voice. “Had you minded your own business and slept as you were supposed to, you would have been just fine.”

  “What—”

  Cynthia did not finish. The blow caught her on the side of the head. She felt her legs buckling under her and fell to the ground. Her mouth tasted the dust and she tried to spit it out unsuccessfully.

  “She’s not out yet,” Beatrice said. “You’re being too gentle with her. Kick her head, if you won’t I’ll do it.”

  “Come on Beatrice, she’s a woman. Let’s leave her, she’ll be too frightened to do anything. Come morning and we’ll be miles away.”

  “I have an ax to grind with her. She took my husband. Now come on or I’ll do it myself.”

  “She didn’t take your husband. You’re the one who left.”

  Beatrice could hear the conversation but to her, it seemed as though it were miles away from her. She thought of Nathan and prayed that the noise would not wake him up. The kick to her head caught her unaware and she groaned in pain.

  “She must be made of stone,” Beatrice said. “Go on, give her a good kick to put her out. I can’t seem to do it.”

  This time, the kick carried more weight and Cynthia could feel herself drifting away. Mercifully, everything went black and she was no longer in pain.

  ***

  “Please wake up my love.”

  Cynthia struggled to hold onto Clive’s voice. On one hand, she was glad to hear his voice but the lure of returning to the quiet place was strong and she resisted his pleading.

  “How long will the doctor be?” Clive shouted.

  “He’s on the way,” someone replied.

  She felt a cool cloth on her face and neck. Then it touched her wound and she winced.

  “That’s right my love, open your eyes.”

  Images of herself lying on the ground floated to her mind. Cynthia moaned, reliving the pain. Hands held her and she could hear Clive’s voice soothe her.

  “You’re safe now. I promise no one will ever hurt you again. Please be alright.”

  Cynthia heard a commotion and then an unfamiliar voice spoke and hands touched her forehead. The hands were gentle and prodding.

  Exhaustion overcame her and she felt herself drifting off to sleep. The last voice she heard was Clive’s.

  “Will she be alright Doctor?”

  “We’ll know in a little while.”

  Chapter Ten

  Cynthia sat at the kitchen table, tears streaming down her face. She had read the letter more than three times. She knew that in the front room, Clive was waiting for her and keeping Nathan occupied while she read the letter from her mother. Mrs. Williamson was due to come later in the day after Clive had left for Newtown to receive a new stock of longhorn cattle, a new breed he wanted to try out.

  She was alone with her thoughts, her mind transported to another place and time. A month earlier, she had written a long letter to her mother, ending it with the words, ‘if I do not hear from you, I’ll understand.’ Every day, she had hoped that the postman would deliver a letter to her and this morning, her hope had come to fruition.

  Cynthia would never have written the letter had it not been for Clive’s urging.

  “Imagine being estranged from Nathan!”

  That thought had given her the final push. She had initially planned to write a short note, but it had ended up being a long letter, telling her mother everything from the moment she had felt home. For Cynthia, writing the note had felt like she had cleansed herself and at the end of the long tale, she had asked for forgiveness. She had not known any better. She wiped her eyes and read the letter one more time.

  My dear daughter,

  There are no words to express the joy I feel after hearing from you. Every day and night I think of you and pray for you. I have cried many nights, frightened that something bad had happened to you. I feel proud that despite all your tribulations, you have remained steadfast in the Lord and I thank Him that you are married to a good man. Your sisters and brothers are growing up very fast, but they miss you as do I. I know your daed misses you too, after all, you were the closest to his heart. You know him, he would never say so. I am going against his wishes in writing to you, but one’s child is a part of them. I’m sure you already know that with baby Nathan. As surprised as I was by the news that you were going to marry non-Amish, deep inside myself I always knew that you were destined for greater things. My own daughter is now living across the other side of the country with her own family. My only wish has always been that you never veer away from our Lord.

  Being Amish is not the only way to enter into God’s kingdom, I have always thought. Perhaps one day, we shall come to visit you and your family. I will keep that hope in my heart, knowing that we shall see each other again. Meanwhile, I am content to hear from you and give you our news in return.

  At this point, Cynthia broke down into fresh tears. She knew what a sacrifice it was for her mother to communicate with her in secret. Obedience to one’s husband was something that was not questioned in the community.

  I pray for you every day and think of you always. Perhaps with time, your father will be more forgivi
ng and we can be a family again. You say a big hello to your husband and a kiss to Nathan. Tell him his grandmamma loves him and misses him. I know you’re a special mother, you always were wonderful with your siblings. Take care of yourself and I wish you God’s blessings always.

  With love,

  Your mamma.

  Cynthia folded the letter and slipped it back to the envelope. She would reply later, now she wanted to be with her family.

  When Clive saw her, he looked at her with questions in his eyes. Cynthia nodded and smiled at him. They did not have to speak. She knew that all Clive wanted to know was that all was well and the letter had been what she had hoped and prayed for.

  The front room now had a wide space at the center where the table used to be. It had been pushed to the wall and Cynthia joined Clive on the couch and they sat watching Nathan, pushing one leg forward and then back. Fear held him back from taking his first steps. It did not help matters that he was a chubby little boy, but Cynthia knew once he took those first steps, the fear would go.

  Just as she and Clive had taken the first steps to opening their hearts after heartbreak. Their first loves had hurt them deeply and just like Nathan, it had taken courage and belief to take those first steps towards loving each other.

  Nathan looked at Cynthia and she nodded in encouragement.

  “You can do it, my darling,” she said.

  Nathan was now a year and two months. He could say a few words and each time he spoke, he delighted them both. He looked at his father and then back at Cynthia. Then he let go of the chair and took a step, then another. Cynthia thought she was going to burst with pride. He made a beeline for her and his last steps were a run.

  He collapsed on her lap and she hugged him and kissed him over and over again.

  “Well done, my boy,” Clive said and Nathan went to him.

  “He’s becoming a big boy now, he needs a brother or a sister,” Cynthia commented.