[2016] The Precious Amish Baby

by Faith Crawford

  “What happened to the construction?” Isabella asked, with only passing interest.

  “Mr. Toney, the owner, has run out of money, and the bank won’t loan him more,” Ray explained.

  “Oh, poor man,” Isabella commented.

  She tugged at Ray’s hand so that they could continue walking. He did not budge. She looked up into his face and met his eyes looking at her.

  “I wanted to talk to you before I did anything,” Ray said. “But I spoke to Mr. Toney and he’s willing to sell the land and the patch of land behind it to us.”

  Isabella looked at the big building and then shifted her eyes back to Ray.

  “Can we afford it?”

  Ray chuckled. “Sweetheart, you have no sense of money, do you? We can buy the whole state of Montana if we so wish.”

  Air had filled Isabella’s chest and she felt as if she could not breathe.

  “Are you alright?” Ray said, “Come, let’s get you home. It’s probably too cold to be outside.”

  Isabella allowed herself to be led home. She wasn’t ill, and neither was the cold affecting her. It was just that she had never allowed herself to think of herself and Ray as wealthy, she told herself. The thought of them owning such a building made her dizzy. By the time they got home she had more or less recovered.

  “Feel better now?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

  “Yes, yes,” Isabella said, sinking into the hard chair.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea? You look like you could do with one,” Ray asked.

  “Yes, please,” Isabella said, unable to summon the energy to stand up to make the tea herself.

  She allowed her eyes to close. Isabella felt a little worried. Perhaps she ought to see a doctor, she thought to herself. She would give herself a few more days and, if her energy had not returned and the nausea was still there, she would see the doctor.

  When Ray returned, he found her snoring gently, with her head slouched in an odd angle. He righted her head, contemplated carrying her to bed and then decided to let her to rest for a little while on the chair. Ray sat down and allowed his mind to wonder. He had so many plans for that building, but he wanted Isabella’s thoughts and ideas.

  He looked at her smooth, creamy skin, her slender body, and he wanted to gather her in his arms and keep her safe. Ray frowned slightly. Something was not right with Isabella. She had only gone to the restaurant once in the last week and, even then, it had been for less than fifteen minutes.

  On her return, she had collapsed on the bed, as though she had been walking for miles. Dear Father in heaven, please let her be well. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to her. Ray’s eyes were wet and he dried them off with the sleeve of his shirt. He would get her to see the doctor first thing in the morning, Ray decided.

  She woke up soon after, blinking her eyes rapidly in confusion. Her plump lips formed into a smile when she saw him.

  “That’s better,” she said in a brisk tone, and sat up. She saw the empty teacup and looked at him accusingly. “You drank my tea!”

  Ray grinned. “Someone had to. I’ll heat up some more for you.”

  “No, no,” Isabella said, standing to her feet. “I’ll warm it and then I’d better nip downstairs and see how everything is going. I’ve been terrible, neglecting the restaurant. What must George and Martha think of me?”

  Ray waved her concerns away. “Oh, they understand.”

  She did exactly that, with a burst of energy that confused Ray. Whatever had been ailing her must have gone, because she seemed back to her old self. Ray decided that he had worried needlessly.

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  The door swung open at exactly eleven o’clock and Isabella smiled at her husband’s timeliness. She was ready and waiting and they exchanged a fond smile before she slipped passed him and headed for the stairs. Her step was light and quick and, when she reached the second floor, she reached into her pocket and took out a key.

  The buzz of activity reached her as she locked the door that led to their private apartments. The last flight of stairs took her to a long hallway. Doors were open and three ladies in starched white uniform went in and out of the rooms.

  Isabella peeked into each of the rooms, nodding in satisfaction at the well-made beds and the clean floors. She was glad she had taken the time to train her lady cleaners on the importance of ensuring the rooms were spotlessly clean. The reputation of the hotel depended on it.

  She exchanged brief greetings with the cleaners and took a quick peek at the shared bathrooms before descending another fleet of stairs. Isabella’s tour took her to the dining room, a rectangular room that contained numerous tables with four chairs arranged around each of them.

  “Good morning Mrs. Lancaster,” Isabella said, to an elderly woman with a cream hat perched on her head.

  Mrs. Lancaster delicately sipped her tea, dabbing at her mouth each time she drank.

  “Why, it's mid-morning,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong. “How’s the boy today?”

  “He’s well, thank you. Taking his nap, thank God,” Isabella said with a laugh, thinking of their son’s excessive energy.

  “Oh, that will pass,” Mrs. Lancaster said.

  “Any plans for the day?” Isabella asked her politely.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “The choir club has a meeting in the afternoon. I daren’t miss it as I’ve been picked to sing the solo in the Christmas song special.”

  Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Isabella was happy for her. She was alone in the world, as her husband had passed on and she had no children, from what Isabella had gathered.

  “Shall I sing it for you?” she asked hopefully.

  “Sure,” Isabella said, and pulled out a chair.

  Isabella resisted the urge to cringe as Mrs. Lancaster sang. Just then, Martha, unrecognizable in a smart, white, dotted dress, glided by and winked at Isabella. All the workers in the hotel had come to know their long-stay visitors pretty well, and to Isabella they felt like family.

  Later, after her inspection was done, she climbed the stairs back to their apartment. On opening the door, she heard Patrick’s soft voice and Ray’s deep one. She was not surprised to find Patrick awake. He rarely napped for more than forty-five minutes.

  They were not in the living room, and she followed their voices to the bedroom she and Ray shared. She stopped at the door. They were lying on the bed, on their backs, their eyes looking at the ceiling. They looked so alike that a stranger would immediately tell that they were father and son.

  “Can you see the sun?” Ray said in a soft voice.

  “No papa, no sun,” Patrick said.

  “We’re pretending we’re outside,” Ray said, laughter in his words.

  “No pretend,” Patrick said. “We go outside.”

  Isabella chuckled. Patrick would never be a dreamer. Even at his age, he preferred things he could see and touch and lick. She moved towards the bed and sat on the edge. She touched Patrick’s chubby legs, letting her finger trail his skin until it reached the soles of his feet. His body convulsed and he erupted into giggles.

  “Everything going well?” Ray asked.

  “Perfect. Mrs. Lancaster kept me longer. She insisted on singing for me her part in the Christmas performance.”

  Ray chuckled. “You’re very good with all of them. They feel at home here.”

  “That was our intention, wasn’t it?”

  Ray nodded. “It was. Hard to believe it’s only been two years.”

  Isabella beamed. They were living their dream, she and Ray, and now they had Patrick to make that dream complete. Her pregnancy had come as a complete surprise. By the time she had gone to see the doctor, she had been four months pregnant and from then on time had seemed to just rush by.

  Ray had been busy overseeing the completion of the hotel building, while she had tried to make their little apartment above the restaurant nice for the baby. She had grown so much from the naïve
girl who had traveled to Fairview as a mail order bride that sometimes she barely recognized herself.

  She was a wife, a mother and a part-time business person. She took care of Patrick herself and only had a supervisory role in the hotel. George oversaw the restaurant, Martha the hotel rooms and Ray oversaw the whole operation. Isabella’s job was to check that their standards were maintained.

  “Mama,” Patrick was saying, tugging at the skirt of her dress. “Patrick go outside.”

  “Alright, my dear, I’ll take you out shortly.”

  “Come here,” Ray said, and she allowed herself to be pulled onto the bed.

  He enfolded her in his arms and they shared a moment of quiet reflection.

  “You and Patrick are my life,” Ray said, with feeling.

  Isabell had no words to describe to Ray how he and their child completed her. Instead, she squeezed his muscular shoulder and he held her tighter.

  “Mama!” Patrick called from the doorway.

  They both bolted up.

  “I’d better go back to work,” Ray said, looking at her with longing.

  Isabella laughed at him. “And I to motherhood. I shall see you later in the afternoon when Patrick naps?”

  He grinned and kissed her chastely on the cheek. “That would be wonderful.”

  *****

  THE END

  Enjoy what you read? Please leave an honest review on Amazon. Thanks!