Their Son’s Amish Baby
Expectant Amish Widows Book 4
Samantha Price
Copyright © 2016 by Samantha Price
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Scripture quotations from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version in the United Kingdom are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crown’s patentee, Cambridge University Press.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
EXPECTANT AMISH WIDOWS
About Samantha Price
Chapter 1
Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee;
he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.
Deuteronomy 31:6
* * *
With a thud Bree’s suitcase landed at her feet. She looked up at the taxi driver, quite surprised by his sudden change of demeanor. Was it because she’d had barely enough money to pay her fare? She’d been completely honest with him about how much money she had, and he’d agreed to drive her to the address she’d passed him on the slip of paper. If he’d miscalculated the fare it wasn’t her problem.
Without saying anything further, the driver got back into his taxi and sped back up the road. Bree hoped she’d get a better response from Simon’s parents.
Shrugging off the strange behavior of the driver, she stared up at the pretty white Amish farmhouse, wondering what Simon’s family would say when she told them why she was there. She’d seen them in the distance at Simon’s funeral but hadn’t introduced herself and now they’d have no idea who she was. But if Simon was being truthful, they were very nice people. Surely they wouldn’t turn her away.
Picking up her suitcase, she was glad she’d only brought the essentials with her after her parents had kicked her out. In the case were a few changes of clothes, her cell phone, a few toiletries, and her makeup. After she took a deep breath to calm herself, she headed to the front door.
Before she knocked, she put the suitcase to one side of the door so they wouldn’t see it immediately. She didn’t want to do what she was about to do, but she’d thought things through and there was no other way.
After one more deep breath, Bree pushed her hair away from her face and knocked on the door.
A few moments later, a teenage girl opened the door. When she saw Bree, she raised her eyebrows and stared at her.
“Hello.” Bree was completely thrown off her game; she’d rehearsed what she’d say over and over in her head, quite expecting that Simon’s mother or father would answer the door. “Would your mother or father be home?”
“My mother is home.”
“Could I speak with her?”
The girl nodded and left Bree at the door.
Simon’s mother came to the door and stared at her, before she said, “Hello?”
Mrs. Stauffer was a small woman and her face was quite lined. Bree guessed she’d be somewhere in her forties, but somehow, she looked older. Possibly the stress of losing Simon had aged her considerably.
“Hello, Mrs. Stauffer. You don’t know me, but I knew Simon.”
At the mention of Simon, Mrs. Stauffer’s fingertips flew to her mouth. “You were a friend of his?”
“A little more than a friend.” Bree took a deep breath and glanced at Simon’s sister standing behind her mother. Her well-rehearsed script wasn’t for the ears of a teenage girl. “Could we talk privately?”
Mrs. Stauffer looked over her shoulder at her daughter before she stepped through the doorway onto the porch. She closed the door behind her. “We can sit out here.”
Right at that moment, Bree wanted to run, but she knew she had no other option; she had to go through with it. She sat on a porch chair and when Mrs. Stauffer sat on one herself, she began what she had rehearsed, “Simon and I were very close. I don’t know how to tell you this in any other way except right out. I’m having Simon’s child.”
Mrs. Stauffer looked horrified and gasped with both hands on her cheeks. She stared at her for a while before she said, “No! It can’t be.”
“It is. I’m more than four months along.”
“He didn’t tell me.” Mrs. Stauffer started howling, which brought her daughter running through the front doorway to her.
The daughter looked at Bree. “What’s wrong with her? What did you say?”
Bree stood up and wondered if it would be easier if she walked away.
Mrs. Stauffer screamed at her daughter, “Go get your vadder. Tell him to come here right now; it’s urgent.”
The girl turned and ran into the fields. All Bree could see was the full skirts of a purple dress and the bottom of her boots as the girl ran. The pounding of feet as she ran in the dirt throbbed through Bree’s head causing her to cringe. Putting her hand to her left temple to ease the throbbing, Bree turned away from the running girl and looked at Mrs. Stauffer. Mrs. Stauffer was eyeing Bree’s suitcase.
“Please sit.” When Bree sat back down, Mrs. Stauffer asked, “Where do you live?”
“My parents kicked me out of their home when they found out about the baby. I have nowhere to go.”
“How did you know Simon?”
“I met Simon at a club. We became good friends.”
Her face soured.
“We were going to marry,” Bree added, knowing that, just like her parents, Simon’s parents wouldn’t be happy about the fact that the baby would’ve been born out of wedlock if they had chosen not to marry. Even though her parents weren’t religious in any way, they were upset about Bree’s pregnancy because they had wanted her to marry Ryan Lexington, the son of a wealthy couple they knew.
“It’s too late to say you were going to marry. So Simon knew about the baby?”
“He did and he wanted to get married even more when he found out, but then things didn’t turn out well. I want you to know that his intentions were good.” Bree looked up to see Simon’s father striding toward the house and her heart pumped hard against her chest.
Mrs. Stauffer stood up. “I’ll tell him what you told me. Then we must all talk.”
“Yes, good,” Bree said in the wind because Mrs. Stauffer was already hurrying to her husband. Staring at her hands in her lap, Bree sat on the porch not sure what to do. It suddenly occurred to her that they might not believe her. It had never occurred to her before now that they might question whether their late son was truly the father of her baby.
After Mrs. Stauffer stopped speaking to her husband, he turned around and said something to his daughter who had been walking up behind him. She immediately turned around and walked in the opposite direction, away from them. Then Mr. and Mrs. Stauffer made their way toward Bree.
Chapter 2
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three;
but the greatest of these is charity.
1 Corinthians 13:13
* * *
Mr. Stauffer’s gaze flickered over Bree and then fell to her suitcase. �
��Come inside. We can talk there,” he said.
Mrs. Stauffer opened the door, walked inside, and then Bree followed. The house was dark after being in the bright sun. She followed Mrs. Stauffer into a living room, which was immediately to her left.
Mrs. Stauffer sat, and Bree seated herself on the couch.
When Mr. Stauffer was opposite her, he began by saying, “My wife tells me that you’re expecting Simon’s child?”
Bree nodded and remembered what she’d rehearsed. “I am. We were in love and had planned to marry.” When they both stared at her in silence, she added, “I’m here for two reasons. The first one is because I have nowhere to go. The second one is that I need to give my baby up for adoption. I thought I should ask you first if you’d take the baby since you’re the grandparents.”
Mrs. Stauffer glanced at her husband.
“You don’t want the child?” he asked.
“I can’t possibly. My parents have thrown me away and I have nothing to live on, and no way to keep the baby. I spent all my money on the taxi to get here.” The truth was she’d stolen the money from her mother’s purse to get there. “You see, Simon spent many hours telling me about his wonderful childhood with all his Amish friends and I want the same for my baby, well, for his baby too.” She sensed a more positive change in the atmosphere. “My baby is due in four months.”
Mrs. Stauffer burst into tears and Mr. Stauffer patted his wife on her shoulder. “You can stay here until we sort things out,” Mr. Stauffer said.
Bree heaved a sigh of relief, but was disturbed because she clearly couldn’t read these people. “I can? Thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m sorry, I should have said my name. I’m Bree Fortsworth.”
“I’m Joel, and my wife is Marie. Marie, why don’t you fix Bree something to eat?”
“Of course.” Marie stood and hurried away to the kitchen as she sniffled.
“Is that your case outside?”
“Oh yes, my suitcase.”
“I’ll take it up to our spare room. We must talk more about this and see what our bishop has to say. I’ve got to get back to work; people are waiting for me.”
Bree nodded and watched Mr. Stauffer as he opened the door to retrieve her suitcase. He walked up the stairs and Bree listened to his footsteps as he walked overhead. When he came downstairs, Bree heard him go into the kitchen.
She listened hard, hoping to hear what they would say.
Mrs. Stauffer said, “What will people say?”
“A child is a blessing from Gott. We lost Simon on rumspringa but Gott has brought us a blessing out of our mourning.”
Bree had learned from Simon that when an Amish person dies on rumspringa they are considered unsaved. Simon had intended to return soon so he wouldn’t be lost, but he died before he’d done so. Their many conversations had taught Bree many things about the Amish people and their way of life.
“You’re right. This might be Gott’s way of answering our prayers; he’s brought us another child. She says she doesn’t want it.”
Bree heard nothing else and a few moments later Mr. Stauffer came back into the living room. “I’ll see you later tonight, Bree, and then we can talk some more.” He gave a small smile and left the house.
Bree wandered into the kitchen. “Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Stauffer?”
She whipped her head around away from the stove. “I’m sorry, I’ve been crying on and off since Simon died. I find it hard to stop when I start.” She covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing hard.
Not knowing what to say, Bree just stood there in the kitchen.
Mrs. Stauffer said. “No, I don’t need any help. Would you like something to eat? I’ve got a meat pie that we had for the midday meal. There’s some left.”
“I’m not hungry, thank you.”
Marie looked her up and down. “When was the last time you ate?”
Bree shrugged her shoulders. “This morning I think. I’ve never been a big eater.”
“How about I fix you just a small piece of pie?”
“Thank you. That sounds good.”
“You can sit down at the table.” Marie pointed to the table and Bree sat down.
“I’m sorry to just turn up like this, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. I think Simon would’ve wanted me to come here.”
Mrs. Stauffer didn’t say anything. She busied herself getting the food. When she set the plate in front of Bree, she sat opposite.
“Was that Simon’s sister I met at the front door earlier?”
“Yes, that’s Cora. Simon’s younger sister, and then Simon has an older brother, Andrew.”
Bree nodded and picked up a fork. She noticed that she’d been given no knife so she put the fork into the pie and it sliced through fairly easily. When she loaded some pie onto the fork, she said, “I was at the funeral. I didn’t come and say hello because I didn’t think Simon would’ve told you about me.”
She shook her head. “We hadn’t seen him for a whole year before …”
“I would be grateful if I could stay here for a few days until I figure out what to do.”
Mrs. Stauffer nodded. “Mr. Stauffer said you could stay.”
“Thank you.”
When they heard the front door open, Mrs. Stauffer sprang to her feet, and rushed out of the room. Bree only heard muffled voices, but heard enough to know that it was Simon’s sister who’d come back to the house. Her mother told her to go upstairs to her bedroom.
Bree ate quickly and was finished before Mrs. Stauffer came back into the kitchen.
“Do you want some more?” Mrs. Stauffer asked when she saw the empty plate.
“No thank you. Would it be all right if I go up and rest? I think Mr. Stauffer said he put my suitcase into a spare room.”
“I’ll show you where it is.”
Bree followed Mrs. Stauffer up the stairs into the first room on the right.
“Here it is. We have a bathroom downstairs through the kitchen.”
“Thank you.”
When Mrs. Stauffer left, Bree shut the bedroom door. She looked around the sparsely furnished room and wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Simon had told her how he’d been raised with loving-kindness, so her child would certainly be better off raised with them rather than her parents. Not that her parents would ever raise another child. Bree’s ultimate goal in coming to Simon’s family was for them to agree to adopt the child she was carrying.
Bree opened her suitcase and switched on her cell phone, careful to turn the ring to silent since she knew the Amish didn’t like such things in their homes. She stared at the phone once it was on and then checked her messages. There were no texts and there had been no voice messages left.
It was clear her parents didn’t care about her at all. They’d always been too busy with their own careers anyway to care about her; she’d been told on many occasions that her arrival in this world had been a ‘mistake.’ Her parents weren’t fit to be parents and Bree figured her baby deserved better. Bree looked out the bedroom window, thinking about taking a walk outside since she didn’t want to be stuck indoors for the rest of the day – it was better than feeling uncomfortable around Mrs. Stauffer.
Mr. and Mrs. Stauffer hadn’t seemed friendly but they would’ve been shocked by her arrival and the news that their recently departed son was about to make them grandparents.
She closed her eyes and silently asked Simon if he was okay with what she was doing. It was hard to know. For so long she’d gone back and forth in her mind whether this was the right thing to do, until finally she knew she had to make up her mind one way or the other and just go with it. One thing she didn’t want to do was cause the family more grief, but she knew from what Simon had said that they had longed for more children. Bree hoped that her child would soon be welcomed into their family.
The longest Bree could stay in the small bedroom w
as an hour; she couldn’t take the confines of the four walls so she walked downstairs intending to find Marie and let her know she was going for a walk.
When she was at the foot of the stairs, she saw Simon’s sister sitting on the couch sewing. “Hello, I’m Bree.”
The girl looked up. “Hello, I’m Cora.”
Marie walked out of the kitchen. “We’ve told Cora that you’ll be staying for a few days.”
Bree smiled at Cora, and then looked at Marie. “I thought I might go for a walk, if that’s all right?”
“You can walk on the road or in the fields, but don’t go through the back fence with the barbed wire; the Patersons have a bull in that paddock.”
“Okay, I’ll be sure not to go there.” Bree walked out the door happy to be in the fresh air away from the dark depressing house. The house Simon had described was different from the one she was experiencing.
“Don’t go through the fence with the barbed wire,” she said out loud as a reminder. Her parents had always accused her of being vague and forgetful and they were probably right. One of their nicknames for her was ‘airy-fairy.’ And if saying something out loud would save her coming face-to-face with a bull she was happy to do it.
The dress she was wearing was cumbersome and not nearly as practical as wearing her usual jeans or sweats. She’d only brought large dresses with her because she didn’t want to be disrespectful to Simon’s parents. He’d told her that the Amish see pants as men’s clothes and their women don’t wear them. Anyway, she’d now grown out of all her jeans thanks to her baby bump.
Chapter 3
Their Son's Amish Baby Page 1
