Amish Christmas Blessings: The Midwife's Christmas Surprise/A Christmas to Remember

by Marta Perry;Jo Ann Brown

  “I still don’t remember anything before we reached the bridge. It’s as if my life started the moment we crossed it.” She put her mittens to her bonnet and frowned. “Why can’t I remember anything?”

  “Don’t force it,” Amos said. “That’s what Dr. Montgomery said.”

  “Ja. I remember that, but why can’t I remember anything else?” Raising her head, she blinked back tears. “I want to know what the doctor charged for coming to see me. I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”

  “I know you will. Why don’t you concentrate on getting better and leave other worries until later?”

  “I know I should, but it’s not easy to think of the future when I don’t have any past to build upon.”

  He gave her the kind smile that eased the iciness around her frightened heart. “You’ve got this moment. That’s all any of us have. This day, this moment the Lord has made for us. We can use it or waste it.”

  “That’s a deep thought.” She let her shoulders unstiffen as she gave in to the grin teasing her lips.

  “I’m a deep thinking sort of man.” He struck a pose worthy of a statue on a village green.

  Her anxiety eased a bit as she laughed. She knew that was what he’d hoped she’d do because his dark brown eyes sparkled like sunshine. As more snow settled around them, muting the noise from cars out on the highway, she sent up a grateful prayer that Amos was the one who had found her and Polly. He and his family made her feel as if they were as invested in her recovering her memories as she was.

  “I need to return to the store,” he said as the snow continued to fall, harder with each passing second. “In case someone comes.”

  “All right.” She didn’t want to give in to failure, but standing in the storm wouldn’t get her anything but a cold.

  They walked toward the Stoltzfus Family Shops in silence. More than once she thought Amos was about to say something, but he didn’t. She tried to think of something to say, but her head ached more with each step.

  Another buggy was parked in front of Amos’s store. It was a twin to the one she’d ridden in to the store, and Linda recalled what Amos had said about his brother building or rebuilding many buggies in the area.

  A tall man with a bushy gray beard stood by the store’s front door. When he turned to watch them approach, she saw the man had wild, untamed gray eyebrows to match his beard. He smiled, and his face altered from forbidding to friendly.

  Amos called a greeting, and the gray-bearded man stepped aside to let Amos unlock the door. “I never thought I’d see the day when you open late, Amos.”

  “Reuben,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder at her, “this is a guest at our house. Her name is Linda.” He motioned for her to join them. When she did, he added, “Reuben Lapp is our bishop.”

  “Hello,” she said, trying to hide the many new questions scurrying through her battered mind. What was the name of the bishop in her home district? Did he smile as compassionately as Reuben did? Was she a baptized member, or had she not made that step to commit her life to her faith?

  And if she’d been baptized, did that mean she was walking out with a young man she planned to marry? Plain women didn’t wear wedding bands, so there was no way to know if a husband was trying to find her.

  “Christmas season is a gut time for family and friends to visit, isn’t it?” Reuben asked with a broadening smile.

  She was saved from having to answer when Amos gave his bishop a quick explanation of what had happened last night. As the older man’s expression grew serious, she wondered how many more people were going to be dismayed by her situation before her memories returned. She held her breath, hoping when Amos asked if Reuben had heard of anyone looking for a young woman and a little girl that his response would provide the answers she sought.

  Her heart collapsed when the bishop shook his head. “I wish I had better news for you, Linda. I haven’t heard of anybody missing a woman with the name Linda or a kind named Polly.” Genuine compassion filled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll contact my fellow bishops and make other inquiries. You belong somewhere with people who must be missing you and the kind. We’ll do what we can to reunite you with those who miss you.” His smile returned. “The Amish grapevine is always efficient. News like this will spread quickly from family to family.”

  “Danki,” she said as she followed Amos and the bishop into the store. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Should she return to the Stoltzfus house and help Wanda and Leah with the day’s chores?

  Normally it’d be an easy walk, but between the snow and her own unsteadiness, she didn’t trust herself to get there on her own. She stood by the door while Reuben completed his purchase. She nodded when the bishop, as he left the store, told her he’d immediately let her know any news he heard.

  Amos came around the counter. “Are you all right? You look as gray as the sky.”

  “I’m as gut as I can be now.”

  “Reuben will do everything in his power—and in prayer—to find the truth for you.”

  “I know.” She rubbed her hands together. “But I despise the thought of people frightened and worried because they don’t know where we are.”

  “Think of how joyous your reunion will be.”

  She raised her gaze to meet his eyes which were darker with his strong emotions. “I wish I had your optimism.”

  “It’s not optimism. It’s faith God has a plan for you and your family, and His plan is a gut one.”

  “What gut can there be in losing my memory?”

  He shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong guy. You need to ask God.”

  “I have been asking. Over and over.”

  “He’ll answer. He always does.” He gave her a grin. “Just not always on our schedule.”

  She returned his smile, feeling the weight on her shoulders ease. “Danki for the reminder.” Her laugh surprised her as much as him when she added, “I need reminders about everything.”

  He shook his head. “No, you haven’t needed a reminder about loving Polly. Though the situation looks bleak, think how much worse it would have been if you didn’t recall anything about her.”

  “You are an optimist.”

  “Guess I’m guilty as charged. Or maybe it’s this time of year. It’s hard to be grim when we’re surrounded by happiness. So many weddings and the Christmas holidays and the snow that’s pretty when it blankets the ground and hushes the world.” Looking past her toward the empty parking lot, he asked, “Would you consider coming to the store tomorrow?”

  “Why?”

  “Tomorrow is Saturday, and the store is always busy. Maybe one of my customers will recognize you.” He laughed. “Maybe I should set up one of those games like Englisch shopkeepers do, but instead of guessing how many gumballs are in the jar, people can guess what your last name is.” He shook his head with another chuckle. “Not that it’d be much of a challenge with so many Stoltzfuses, Millers, Yoders and Beilers around here.”

  She laughed along with him, ignoring the unending questions while she did. No matter what happened after she learned the truth of who she was, one thing wouldn’t change. She’d forever be grateful to Amos Stoltzfus for lifting her out of her fears with the lilt of laughter.

  * * *

  The church Sunday service was being held about a mile away at the Chupp family’s farm. Linda doubted Amos and his family would have hitched up their buggy horses except for the fact that she found it difficult to walk any distance.

  Yesterday, her hopes had been dashed. Nobody who came into the store had recognized her, though Amos had asked every customer, plain and Englisch, if they did. Some had glanced at her and shrugged, but many had considered the question before they answered. Each time the answer was the same: they’d never seen her before. That meant she couldn’t have been coming to Paradis
e Springs. Why had she and Polly gotten off the bus here?

  “You stood and said it was time to go,” Polly had told her when they went to bed in the cozy upstairs room in the dawdi haus last night. While she’d been at the store, Amos’s brothers had moved two twin beds into the small space with its slanting ceilings and dormer window. “You didn’t say anything else.”

  Maybe the bus tickets would point to where they were bound, but searching her pockets had revealed nothing. She asked Polly to check her own pockets. Nothing. If they’d had printed tickets, they’d been lost somewhere. Maybe she’d left them on the bus. Maybe they had slipped from her fingers on the walk to Amos’s store. Finding them beneath the snow would be next to impossible.

  And Linda was too exhausted for such a task. Nightmares had kept Polly awake through the night. What the little girl dreamed seemed to vanish as soon as Polly woke, crying in fright, but she knew someone bad was chasing them. Was it a memory, or was the little girl prone to night terrors? Yet another question with no answer.

  When they reached the farm where the service would take place, Polly stayed close to Linda. The little girl’s hand held on so tightly Linda’s fingers began to cramp. She readjusted Polly’s grip, but didn’t let go of her hand.

  “There are lots of kinder here,” she said to reassure the little girl.

  “Do you think they’ll like me and play with me?”

  “Ja, but not until after the worship service.”

  Polly gave her a disgusted glance. “I know, Linda. I’m not a boppli.”

  A lighthearted, resonating laugh startled Linda. She turned, knowing who stood behind them. Why hadn’t Amos joined his brothers and the other men by the front porch where they were gathering before they were called inside for the worship service?

  Her head spun, and she knew she’d moved too quickly. Her heart had propelled her around before her mind could warn her to be careful. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, and he put his broad fingers on her arm. Warmth swirled through her, but oddly it didn’t blur everything in front of her. Instead, she felt more grounded than she had since she woke on the sofa in his family’s front room.

  “If you feel too lousy to stay,” he said in a whisper, “I can take you home at any time.” He spoke quietly, she realized, because he worried that her headache had returned with a vengeance.

  What a gut man he was! It would be so easy to listen to her heart that was pleading for her to risk it and tell him how much his kindness meant to her. She couldn’t. Not when she had no idea if she was betrothed or married. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will.” His smile warmed her in spite of the icy wind. “You’re a determined woman, and I suspect you can do whatever you put your mind to.”

  “How can you say that? You don’t know me.” She swallowed her gasp when he flinched as if she’d struck him. What had she said that upset him so much? Unsure, she kept going, hoping that her next words would bring back his smile. “I don’t know me.” She tried a laugh, but it was feeble and sounded fake even to her own ears.

  When his name was called, Amos excused himself and went to join the men. She watched his easy lope through the snow. To look at him, nobody would guess he had anything on his mind other than what he wanted to discuss with his friends.

  When the women entered the house, Linda wasn’t surprised Polly clung to her hand and to Wanda’s. Amos’s mamm treated Polly as if she were one of her own kins-kinder. Her other grandchildren were giggling together behind them.

  Linda sat with the rest of the maedels on a bench behind the married women. The kinder were scattered among the adults, some sitting with the women and a few of the boys with the men. Pushing aside any thoughts but of the moment, she joined in with the first hymn. She savored the slow pace of the music. Her heart drew in strength from the community of faith. When the congregation began the next song, “Das Loblied,” which was always sung as the second hymn, she let the opening words of the second verse sink into her:

  Oh may thy servant be endowed

  With wisdom from on high

  She longed for wisdom to open the place where her memories were sealed away. Smiling at Polly, she raised her eyes and saw Amos watching her from across the room. He was a fine-looking man, standing a full head taller than the men on either side of him. When he looked away, his mouth hardening for a moment, she was startled. Why would he be upset she was staring at him when he had been studying her openly?

  Linda sat as a minister moved to the center of the room to begin his sermon. He had the same height the Stoltzfus brothers possessed and resembled Amos, though his jaw was partially hidden beneath an uneven beard. Her guess was confirmed when Wanda whispered, “That’s my third son, Isaiah.”

  Unsure if she’d met Isaiah the night she woke in the Stoltzfuses’ living room and wondering which woman sitting among the married women was his wife, she listened as he began the longer sermon. She became enmeshed in the words as he spoke from the heart with an eloquence she wasn’t surprised to hear from Amos’s older brother.

  Isaiah must be like Amos in more than the shape of his face. They both were deep thinkers. That was confirmed as he spoke on the subject of forgiveness.

  “Even the most heinous act,” Isaiah said with quiet dignity, “needs to be forgiven. We all know that, but we often forget that we must let that transgression be forgotten, as well.”

  She froze on the bench. Was she trying to forget something too horrible to remember? A shiver sliced down her spine.

  What if what happened to her and Polly had been so appalling her mind had let go of everything in order to forget it?

  * * *

  Amos shifted on the church bench. His twin brothers glanced at him, and he halted. The last time he’d been antsy during church services was when he was not much older than Polly.

  But it wasn’t easy to sit still when, in the middle of his brother’s sermon, he saw color wash from Linda’s face. Was she in pain? She put her arm around Polly and slanted the kind against her. Her gaze flicked in his direction, sweeping away. Not before he saw the raw emotion in her eyes. Was it fear?

  Maybe she’d remembered something. No, he didn’t want to think of her recovered memories being so frightening, but he should be thankful she’d recalled something. She could return to her life...and he could stop thinking about her. Wouldn’t that be for the best? He’d made an idiot of himself over one lovely woman, and Linda’s recovery would keep him from doing so again. He’d noticed the glances his mamm had aimed at him while he was laughing with Linda. Mamm had worn a similar smile when his brothers grew serious about the women who became their wives.

  But he wasn’t walking out with Linda. He was trying to help her find the truth by regaining her memories. For all he knew, she was another man’s wife. That thought hit him in the gut like an enraged billy goat. He didn’t like thinking of her belonging with someone else.

  He had to keep reminding himself how important it was to be certain. More and more with each passing day because Linda was becoming a part of his life. When he wasn’t with her, thoughts of her filled his head. Unlike her, he couldn’t forget anything: her kindness to Polly, her willingness to help at the store, the easy way she made him smile and laugh as he hadn’t in far too long.

  Amos scrambled to his feet when he realized others were standing. He’d lost track of the service, and Reuben was ending it with “Da Herr sei mit du.”

  He replied with the rest of the congregation, “And the Lord be with you, too.”

  His plan to ask Linda what was amiss went awry. He had to help rearrange some of the benches into tables for the communal meal, then his brothers insisted he join them to eat. Linda wasn’t one of the women bringing the food from the kitchen. Wolfing down his sandwich and excusing himself, he went to find her.

  Everywhere he looked she’d been
moments ago. How could it be difficult to find her in the farmhouse? His search was interrupted by friends who wanted to draw him into conversations. He didn’t want to be rude, but he needed to know why Linda’s face had become ashen. Even after the women and kinder had finished their meals, he hadn’t found her. Had she eaten in the kitchen? He’d check there again.

  As he passed a living room window, he saw Linda standing in the front yard. He yanked his coat off the pile on the sofa. Grabbing a scarf and a hat and gloves, he didn’t pay any attention if they were his. He didn’t want to waste time looking for his own, because if he took his eyes off her, she might vanish.

  The chilly breeze was gone, and the sunshine was melting snow from the roof and nearby trees. A clump of half-frozen snow found its way down his collar. When he yelped, Linda looked toward him. When he exaggerated shaking his coat to let the frigid remnants fall behind him, she gave him the smile he’d hoped for.

  He ignored the warning crashing through his head. He shouldn’t be so eager for her smiles. He was getting in too deep with a woman who might not be free to flirt with him. “Why are you out in the cold?”

  “Keeping an eye on Polly.” She pointed at where the kinder slid on a snowy hill in the pasture beyond the barn. “I don’t know if she’s gone sledding before.”

  “Why didn’t you join her?”

  Her smile faded. “You know why. I can’t risk banging my head. Remember what the doktorfraa said? I could do greater damage, and I might never get my memories back.”

  He hadn’t forgotten, but he doubted a tumble off a sled into the soft snow would do her any damage. Yet he understood her hesitation. She’d lost everything but Polly when she’d been hurt before. She couldn’t risk injuring herself worse.

  “Wait here,” he said.

  “But—”

  “I wouldn’t let you hurt yourself. Don’t you know that?”

  She paused for so long he wondered if she wanted to avoid an answer; then she said, “Ja, I trust you.”