by Marta Perry
With a last glance at the addition, Sarah obeyed. This was going to work out the way they’d planned. Of course it would.
She brushed the dampness from her shoes at the door and hung her shawl on a hook, following the aromas of coffee and breakfast bread to the kitchen.
“You didn’t need to fix such a big breakfast for just the two of us.” She picked up the coffeepot as Aunt Emma set a pan of cinnamon buns on the table.
“Ach, I must make up for forgetting the day yesterday. Such a wilkom that was for you.” Aunt Emma pressed her cheek briefly against Sarah’s, then sat down and bowed her head for the silent prayer. Sarah did the same. Denke, Father. Thank you.
“Eat, eat.” Aunt Emma passed her a bowl of scrambled eggs. “You are too thin.”
She accepted, knowing her aunt would only be happy if Sarah ate some of everything she’d set on the table.
“I was looking at the addition. You’ve made a gut start, ain’t so? Will you let the carpenter know to start again?”
Aunt Emma frowned. “Sarah, are you certain sure you want to do this? I know you said you have the money from the farm, but—”
“I’m sure.” She brushed away the faintest sliver of doubt. “The money is mine to do with as I want, and this is what I want to do.”
It had been a battle of sorts, getting the money for Levi’s share of the farm in a lump sum. His father and brother had not liked the idea, insisting she’d be better off to go on living with them, accepting small payments each month.
There’d be time enough to want the rest if she married again, which she might. A widower with children to raise would be a gut match, according to Levi’s father.
Her lips tightened at the memory of that conversation.
“There was trouble with Levi’s family over your selling his share of the farm, ja?”
Sarah hadn’t mentioned that in her letters to Aunt Emma, but her aunt seemed to know anyway. “Ja.” A small sigh escaped her. “I didn’t wish to be at odds with them, but I could not fall in with their plans for me.”
“Marrying a widower with kinder who needed a mammi.” Aunt Emma had a twinkle in her eyes. “No, you didn’t tell me so, but I know well enough how some people’s minds work. Levi’s father is a gut enough man, but not one to understand a woman wanting to go her own way.”
“No, he’s not. But Daadi talked to him with me.” She felt a rush of gratitude for her father. He might not understand her moving so far away, but he had supported her decision.
Aunt Emma nodded. “Your maam did well when she settled on your daad. She could have had any of half a dozen boys, as lively and pretty as she was, but she never looked at anyone else.”
“No, she didn’t.” Sarah’s voice went soft. She knew how devoted her parents had been. “I thought that Levi and I would be like that, but . . .” She let that die off, not wanting to sound disloyal to her husband.
“Levi couldn’t deal with not having kinder of his own.” Aunt Emma patted her hand. “He could not accept that it was God’s will.”
“No.” Familiar guilt stirred at the thought.
When the doctor could find no reason why she hadn’t become pregnant, Sarah had ventured to suggest once that Levi go to the doctor for testing, but his anger had shown her that it was better to accept the blame herself rather than persist.
“Well, now, we should talk about the clients who are coming in today.” Aunt Emma seemed to understand that Sarah wasn’t comfortable with the subject of her marriage. “I want both of them to meet you.”
“There are just two?” That startled her a little. She could remember a time when Aunt Emma saw many more than that on her at-home days.
Her aunt stiffened. “Not so many as I once had. There is a new doctor in town, and some of our people are going to him. But things will pick up once we have the birthing rooms finished.” She moved briskly as she spoke, bringing to the table the notebook in which she’d always kept her schedule. “You’ll see.”
Her confidence was a contrast to the doubts she’d expressed the day before, and Sarah found her own spirits rising, too.
“And we must get going on the addition,” her aunt added. “I’ve been thinking on how best to move ahead with the work.”
“Is there a problem? Surely the carpenter who started it—”
“He’s a friend of Jonas’s.” Aunt Emma’s lips pursed, and her old determination showed in her face. “When he learned Jonas didn’t want me to do it, he suddenly became too busy to finish. No, I won’t call on him again.”
“I’m sorry.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to get in the middle of a family dispute, but Aunt Emma could certainly decide this for herself.
“So I think it will be best if we ask Aaron and his brothers to take the job. You can go over and talk to him after we’re finished for the day.”
“Me?” Her voice squeaked a bit, and she seemed to see again the negative reaction in Aaron’s face at learning she was a midwife. “I’m not sure—”
“That is best,” Aunt Emma said firmly. “You will be paying for it, so you must handle the plans. That is, if you’re sure you want this.”
Put like that, she could hardly say no, so she nodded. But she could still see the disapproval in Aaron’s strong face, and she very much wondered what his answer would be.
As she walked up to the carpentry shop that afternoon, Sarah realized that despite the setbacks, her confidence had been growing throughout the day. Getting back into harness as a midwife was just what she needed. She’d been away from patients too long while she settled things back in Ohio.
In a way, this would be even better. There, she’d been one of a number of midwives. Pleasant Valley had only Aunt Emma and now her to provide for a growing Amish population.
Still, she couldn’t help the faintest tinge of worry. She remembered a time when Aunt Emma saw twenty or more women on a prenatal-visits day. Did a new doctor in Pleasant Valley really account for such a change? If the practice didn’t pick up ...
She forced herself away from anxious thoughts. After all, the two women she’d met today had been welcoming. Dora Schmidt, the first, already had seven babies, and she had every confidence that number eight would arrive on time and with little fuss.
Rachel Zook was expecting her first baby with her new husband, Gideon, although from what she said, she had three children from her first marriage. Still, she seemed as excited and happy as if this were her first.
Aunt Emma, with the indulgent smile of someone who’d delivered hundreds of babies, had let Sarah deal with Rachel. Sarah had felt an instant bond with the woman, and they’d spent several minutes talking about whether or not they’d met when Sarah was here before.
Rachel had bloomed with joy over the coming baby. Sarah firmly suppressed the faintest hint of envy. She would never allow her longing for a child of her own to interfere with her happiness for the mothers in her care.
She was approaching Aaron’s shop. Sarah stiffened her backbone in preparation for meeting him again.
Maybe she was being unfair to him. She shouldn’t let a moment’s impression affect her attitude toward the man. She deliberately quickened her steps.
Sarah opened the shop door to the sounds of a generator and saw, and the scent of freshly cut wood. The shop was larger than she’d thought from the outside—as big as the whole downstairs of Aunt Emma’s house, maybe. The Miller brothers probably held church here when it was their turn to host worship.
And despite the piles of lumber and the machinery, the shop was as neat as a housewife’s kitchen. That didn’t surprise her. Aaron struck her as a man who would be methodical and neat at anything he attempted.
But the man who turned off the saw at her entrance wasn’t Aaron. He had Aaron’s height and coloring, but his face was relaxed and open in contrast to the gravity that seemed to sit constantly on Aaron’s expression.
“I am Nathan Miller.” He dusted his hands off on a rag as he ca
me toward her. “And you must be Emma’s niece.”
“I am. But how did you know that?” She found herself responding to his smile.
“Easy. I know every Amish person in Pleasant Valley, so since I don’t know you, you must be newly komm.” He nodded toward the window, grinning. “And since you walked, you didn’t come far. So it was simple.”
“I guess so.” Nathan was easier to talk to than his older brother—that was certain sure. “I think I must have met you when I visited my aunt years ago, but you would have been a small boy then.”
“Not so small as all that,” Nathan said. “But you are not here to talk about how much I have grown. What can I do for you?”
He sounded very much the grown-up businessman when he asked the question, so she changed her mind about waiting for Aaron. Surely it did not matter which of the Miller brothers she talked with.
“My aunt and I would like to finish the addition to her house that is already started. She hoped you might want the job.”
“Ach, ja.” He seemed to put a curb on his eagerness. “But Solomon Gaus started that job, ain’t so? It wouldn’t be right if we took his work from him.”
“He told my aunt that he didn’t have time to finish the project, so I don’t think you need to be concerned about that.”
Her fingers clenched as she thought about Jonas’s interference. Sooner or later she’d be talking to her cousin, and she might have trouble keeping from expressing her opinion.
“Well, if that’s so, it’s no problem.” His expression cleared.
“You don’t have too much other work to do? We’re eager to have the job completed as soon as possible.”
“We are finishing up a kitchen for an Englisch lady now, but after that we should have plenty of time.”
A shadow bisected the patch of sunlight that lay on the floor. “Plenty of time for what?”
Nathan greeted Aaron’s entrance with an open smile. Sarah took a moment to compose her features before she turned to him.
“I was just speaking with your brother about having you finish the addition to Aunt Emma’s house. She is eager to have it done as soon as possible.”
She wasn’t imagining the way Aaron’s tall figure stiffened at her words.
“I’m sorry. But we are busy—”
“But Aaron.” Nathan’s astonishment couldn’t be hidden. “I chust told Sarah that we don’t have anything after we finish the kitchen cabinets for Mrs. Donohue. Have you taken on another job?”
Aaron probably wouldn’t like it that Sarah had no trouble reading his feelings, despite that stoic expression he wore. He didn’t want to do the work on the birthing rooms. She hadn’t been wrong about his reaction to her presence here.
Sarah was unaccountably disappointed. She ought to be used to the fact that some people had little respect for midwives. It was unreasonable to care about the opinion of a man she barely knew.
“Nothing definite.” He answered his brother in a tone that said he wanted no further discussion on the matter. “But there are a few things pending.”
Nathan snorted. “If you’re talking about Eli Schmidt, we could be waiting until next year for him to make up his mind about that barn roof.”
“Eli is a gut customer for us. It wouldn’t be right to take on another job if he’s decided.” Aaron had begun to sound harassed.
She was tempted to press him on it, especially since Nathan still looked unconvinced. But she’d spent too many years evading confrontation to be looking for it now.
“Perhaps you could talk to Mr. Schmidt and let us know,” she offered.
“Ja. I will do that.” Aaron didn’t seem grateful for the olive branch she held out.
“Denke. I must be on my way. It was gut to meet you, Nathan.”
Nathan murmured something in reply, his gaze still fixed, frowning, on his brother.
“I’ll wait to hear from you, then.” Sarah escaped as quickly as possible, only to find Aaron following her, holding the door. He closed it behind them.
She started to move away, but he stopped her, one hand closing over hers. His hand was warm and work-hardened, and it seemed to envelop hers. His expression was frowning.
“I thought that Emma had given up the idea of expanding. That she was going to retire.”
“Have you been talking to my cousin Jonas?” She couldn’t seem to prevent the snap in her voice.
His gaze held hers. “Jonas is her son. I’m sure he wants what is best for her.”
“Perhaps Aunt Emma is the one to decide what that is.”
His gaze seemed to bore into her, and his grip was firm. He let go quite suddenly and took a step back.
“Perhaps. I will check on the other job and stop by the house later to let you know.”
“Fine.” She headed back down the lane.
Fine. Except that her plans weren’t fine with Aaron—that was certain sure. And she wished she understood why.
Aaron felt Nathan’s accusing gaze on him when he reentered the shop. He had a feeling his younger brother wasn’t going to let the subject rest.
“Why did you try to put Sarah off like that?” Nathan, usually easygoing, didn’t let a moment pass before launching into the subject. “You know as well as I do that we’ll be looking for a job once we finish this one, and one more day’s work ought to be enough.”
“Unless Mrs. Donohue thinks of some other change she wants made.” Aaron tried to divert Nathan, but he suspected Nathan wasn’t going to let go.
“There’s not much else she can change, ain’t so? And I’ll eat my hammer if Eli actually decides he wants that job done next week. You should be happy to have a bit of work fall right into our laps.”
Nathan’s persistence began to annoy him. “The last time I looked, I was the one to handle the scheduling around here.”
Nathan planted his hands on the workbench. “The last time I looked, you were telling me I ought to take on more responsibility for the business. How do you think it seemed, you coming in and telling Sarah we couldn’t do the job when I’d just told her we could?”
The fact that Nathan was right only made matters worse. “I wasn’t trying to make you look bad. I just don’t want ...” He had to let that die away, because he didn’t want to go anywhere near the real reason he felt as he did.
“Maybe the truth is that you don’t want to share the responsibility.” Nathan looked younger than his years, suddenly—young and vulnerable, as if discovering that the big brother he admired wasn’t the man he’d thought.
Aaron took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t be interfering when you’re talking to a customer. Maybe we both ought to consult each other about taking on new jobs. What do you think?”
The hurt drained from Nathan’s face. “Do you mean that?”
“I do.” He rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder, thinking of all the times he’d done just that as Nathan grew from a little boy suddenly without a mother to a man. “Suppose I check with Eli, just to be sure. Then I’ll go over to Emma’s place and talk to them about the work. All right?”
“All right.” Nathan’s smile returned. “I’ll finish up the last of these cabinet doors this afternoon already. Then we can move on.”
A couple of hours later, Aaron cut across the brittle brown grass of the pasture toward Emma’s house. He paused to pat Dolly, grazing in the field. The early frost had left little for the horse to eat this winter, and he could see that Emma had already started to give the animal extra hay. If the weather kept on this way, they’d be in for a hard winter.
The half-finished addition came into view as he approached Emma’s, and his stomach tightened. Birthing rooms, Sarah had said it was for.
Plenty of Amish used midwives, and most of them praised Emma Stoltzfus for her skill and caring. But most of them didn’t have his memories of his mother dying, leaving him responsible for the younger ones when he was only fourteen himself.
He
forced his thoughts away from that. He didn’t want to let his feelings interfere with business, but he also didn’t want this job. So he’d look over the situation, talk about how much time it would take, and offer to help find someone else to do the work.
It wasn’t the best solution, but it was one he could live with. As for what Nathan would think—well, he’d just better come up with some other job offers to distract the boy.
Not a boy any longer, his conscience reminded him. A man now, and one he’d promised to consult on jobs.
His jaw clenched. This was Sarah Mast’s fault. If she hadn’t come to Pleasant Valley, he wouldn’t be faced with this unpalatable situation.
A horse waited patiently at the hitching rail behind Emma’s house. Bishop Mose’s horse and buggy. What was the bishop doing at Emma’s house this afternoon?
It was too late to think of backing out. Emma had opened the back door and was beckoning him in.
“Aaron, it’s gut to see you. I was chust telling Bishop Mose how you brought Sarah to me yesterday when I forgot to send someone for her.”
Emma seemed to have taken on new life since the arrival of her niece. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes snapped with life.
Aaron followed her into the kitchen. “Bishop Mose.” He inclined his head to the spiritual leader of the Pleasant Valley Amish. “Sarah.”
Sarah responded to his greeting with a watchful look. Well, no wonder about that. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms.
“I came to say how happy we are to have Sarah with us,” Bishop Mose said, gesturing with his coffee cup. “And I stayed to enjoy some of Emma’s wonderful-gut cinnamon buns.”
Emma was already headed for the coffeepot. “Aaron, you’ll have something, won’t you?”
“Not now, denke, Emma. I wanted to have a look at the addition while it’s still light.”
“Aaron is going to finish the birthing rooms for us.” Emma beamed as she sat down opposite the bishop. “We are so fortunate to have such a fine carpenter.”
“Plenty of fine carpenters around,” Aaron said quickly. It was no part of his plan to be committed to this project in front of the bishop.
