The Amish Midwife's Courtship

by Cheryl Williford

  Beatrice met her coming down the hall, her faceless doll tucked under her arm. “Mamm’s waiting on you.”

  “Ya, Mercy told me,” Molly said, picking up the girl and laughing at her squeals of delight as she marched her into the kitchen. “I have a captive. Anyone want her?”

  Sarah smiled. “Gut mariye. Did you sleep well?”

  Molly shrugged. “Well enough.” She patted Beatrice on the back and slid her down to the floor and then greeted Levi with a hug and kiss. “What a lovely boy. He’s grown so tall. You must be so proud of him.”

  Two steaming pancakes were lifted off the grill and onto a plate for Molly. Sarah nodded and smiled. “We are proud of him, even when he dumps bugs on the floor and can’t understand why he has to take them back outside.”

  “Danke,” Molly said, taking the pancakes. She pulled out a chair at the huge wooden table and sat, reaching for the warm maple syrup just out of reach. “I’d imagine the girls find a brother interesting to have around.”

  “You have no idea, but you will now that you’re staying here,” Sarah said with a laugh as she sat across from her. “Beatrice has had her fill of him already. She says he’s a gross little boy with no manners and refuses to play with him, but Mercy has no problem with the bug-filled dump trucks he pushes around.”

  Molly took a bite of her pancakes and groaned with pleasure. “You really should open up a restaurant. These pancakes are wonderful.”

  “And when would I have time for this wonderful dream? Between diaper changes and dirty hands?” She grinned and then added, “But right now we need to talk about you, not me.” She took Molly’s hand and squeezed. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  * * *

  Closing the shop an hour early two days later, Isaac enjoyed the breeze blowing leaves at his feet and ruffling his hair. His leg hurt less, allowing him to leave the cane behind. He strolled by Molly’s side, glad she’d accepted his invitation to go to the park and enjoy the warmth of the late-afternoon sun.

  The twang of fiddles from Willie Burgess’s Bluegrass Band could be heard all the way down to Gilbert Avenue. They crossed Pinecraft Park and finally drew close to the crowd of Amish, Mennonite and Englischers already seated in Birky Square on quilts, blankets and fold-out chairs.

  Isaac’s eyes searched for a patch of ground for him and Molly to settle on, the homemade quilt folded across his arm, along with a wicker basket of food Molly had put together at the café. The outing was supposed to be a way to keep the rumors of their courtship going, but they had decisions to make. The situation was getting out of hand.

  Molly tugged at Isaac’s shirtsleeve and got his attention. She motioned toward a bare spot under a huge tree draped with strands of Spanish moss and grinned as he nodded in agreement.

  He hesitated and then grabbed her warm hand, pushing her through a swarm of Englischers toe-tapping to the lively music all around them. Laughing at Molly’s pleased expression, Isaac flipped out the colorful log cabin quilt and placed the basket of food in the middle of the colorful squares.

  “This spot is perfect. We can see the stage from here,” Molly shouted over the music.

  “Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back,” Isaac shouted back.

  “You’re terrible,” she said without malice, and smiled. She held his gaze for a heartbeat and then began to glance around. “I didn’t expect so many people to show up with this blast of cool air blowing in from the north.”

  He watched her settle on the quilt and was surprised to see her pat the spot next to her. “Come join me.” Her expression was calm and inviting, no doubt an act to convince those around them that they were a courting couple. She was playing the part of a woman in love.

  He favored his leg as he lowered himself, but made sure he was close enough to her to be convincing. “This is nice,” he said, and wished he hadn’t. They weren’t really courting, after all. Only pretending.

  He had been instructed by her to be attentive when people were around, but he was finding it hard to follow the plan, pretend to love her only when it was necessary. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized he had begun to have real feelings for her. He longed to leave his past behind him and make this courtship real, but his common sense told him not to be foolish. His baggage from the past had to be dealt with. Until then he had nothing to offer her but his own brand of misery and hardship. He couldn’t press for a real relationship with her, even if by some chance she might come to care about him in the future.

  Molly laughed out loud as a Mennonite couple strolled past, pushing a small boy in a red wagon with wooden slates. “He looks like he’s having a good time,” she said, glancing at Isaac. Her foot tapped out the beat of the song being played, her cheeks glowing pink from the brisk, cool air.

  “Maybe you should have brought a jacket,” Isaac mentioned, seeing her rub her hands together from the cold. “This cold front has a sharper bite than forecasted.”

  She began to dig into the basket, withdrawing plastic containers full of his favorite food and placing them on the quilt within reach. “Nee, I’m good. If I get cold, we can always snuggle,” she said and leaned against him for seconds, her words casual, her smile innocent and teasing. “You hungry yet?”

  “That’s a silly question.” Isaac grabbed the paper plate she held out. He added two golden-brown chicken legs to a pile of German potato salad and dropped a sour pickle in the middle of the feast. “This food looks wonderful. Did you cook it?”

  Molly took a generous bite of her corn on the cob. “Nee, Willa Mae cooked it special, just for you.”

  “That was nice of her,” Isaac said around a forkful of creamy potato salad.

  “She’s one of the nicest women I know.”

  “She knows about our ruse?” Isaac wondered out loud.

  “Ya, and she’s all right with it, but she says you’re too nice for your own good. That’s why she fried the chicken and made potato salad for you. She knows it’s something you order at the café and wanted to make the meal special for you. It’s her way of saying thanks for helping out.”

  “That was nice of her, but not necessary.” He expressed his gratitude by biting into a crunchy chicken leg.

  “I know, but you’re a kind and loyal friend. You deserve special treats.”

  Isaac looked down at his plate and moved his food around, his appetite suddenly gone. Molly’s comment made him sound more like a faithful family dog than a suitor.

  The musicians took a break, and people began to mill around, chatting in groups. Mothers cleared up their picnic spots, called to children playing close by. Isaac took the whoopie pie Molly handed him and placed it on his plate of half-eaten food.

  “Something wrong?” Molly asked, her gaze searching his face.

  Isaac shook his head. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.” He’d been pretending about a lot of things lately. The idea of a fake courtship didn’t set well with him anymore. They were spending a lot of time together, and he realized he longed for her attention to be real, not pretend. Not a day went by that someone didn’t ask him, “When’s the wedding?” He found himself wanting to answer, “Christmas,” but couldn’t. Conviction ate at him. He knew the truth was always more profitable than a lie, but he couldn’t let Molly down. Not when she needed him most.

  * * *

  Twilight brought a new round of people to the park and seemed to scatter the family folk with young children. Young Englischers walked the paths with their fingers intertwined, stopping to hug or steal a kiss. Molly watched Isaac talking with a couple of men from the church a few feet away. He looked handsome in his new blue shirt and black suspenders. She’d made the shirt herself, with Sarah’s help. She’d even sewed snaps down the front, something she’d never been able to do before. He’d been so surprised when she’d presented her gift to him
. She got the impression he hadn’t received many presents in his life. She had no idea what his childhood had been like, if he had a good family, or if he had a good relationship with them. He never spoke of family back home. Someone named Rose was connected to him in some way, but Molly didn’t let herself dwell on the woman. It was none of her business.

  Echoes of her fight with her mother came back, stealing her joy. She’d only seen her mamm once since she’d asked her to leave her home. The day before, Ulla had been with Samuel Bawell at the café, their heads close together, as if plotting some new scheme to pull Molly back into their world. She fought down her anger and busied herself with clearing up the leftover food, determined not to let her mother’s controlling behavior spoil her time with Isaac.

  The band left for the night, and a few choir members sang gospel songs. The crunch of freshly fallen leaves made her glance to her side. Samuel Bawell stood there looking down at her, his feet just off the quilt, his smile bright.

  “I didn’t see you at choir practice. How have you been?”

  “I’m gut. Just busy. And you?” Molly said, trying to be friendly without giving him false hope. There was no telling what her mother had told him about his chances with her.

  “Oh, I’ve been fine, just fine.” He tugged at his collar and snapped it closed. “I went wind sailing yesterday with some friends. It was quite the experience.” He grinned, flashing sparkling white teeth. “I wish you had been there. I left a message for you at your job. I miss our time together.”

  “I was busy with work. I really didn’t have time for answering messages or playing sports.” Molly straightened her kapp.

  “You’d have time for lots of things if you stopped resisting and married me.”

  His words hang in the air.

  “Your mamm told me you’ve moved out. The bishop can’t be happy with your actions. He’s bound to call you in for counsel. Your reputation could easily be sullied.”

  “It’s none of your business where I live or what I do, Samuel. We’ve had this conversation before. You know I don’t love—” Molly began, only to have her words cut off by Samuel.

  “Ya, I know you say you don’t love me, but I’m not giving up, Molly. I love you. Have for years. You know that. I want to provide you with all the things you deserve. You could have a wonderful life with me. A big home, our children would want for nothing. Your mamm’s already said she’s prepared to leave Pinecraft and come with us to Ohio if you’re worried about being lonely.”

  Molly shook her head, exasperated.

  “What could possibly stand in our way?”

  “I could,” Isaac said as he wandered over and placed a protective hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Molly’s not interested in you or your money. She doesn’t need you.”

  Molly watched Samuel’s gaze become intense. “And what can you offer her, Isaac Graber? Financial struggles for the rest of her life? Your children starving on your store’s meager income? Is that really how you want her to live? Hand-to-mouth, wondering where the next meal is coming from? I can offer her so much more, and I have her mother’s blessing. Why don’t you step aside for Molly’s sake? Do the right thing.”

  Molly rose from the quilt and stood next to Isaac, her arm going around his slim waist. “I think it’s time you went your way, Samuel. Isaac and I are courting now, making plans for a Christmas wedding. I’m an adult. I don’t need my mother’s blessing to be wed.” She took a deep breath and continued speaking as she walked up to Samuel. “And how Isaac and I manage financially is none of your business. Money isn’t everything. Love is. You can tell that bit of news to my interfering mamm.”

  “I understand you’re infatuated with him, Molly, but if you change your mind—”

  “I won’t change my mind. Isaac is a good man, who’s loyal and honest. I love him. I once thought you were a nice man, too, but you’re not. You’re spoiled. You think only of yourself, the better things in life. And you’re a bully, Samuel Bawell. Now go! Get out of here before I report you to Bishop Fischer. I think he’d be interested in knowing the way you’ve tried to intimidate me and push your way into my life.” Molly motioned toward the path and repeated, “Go!”

  Molly watched Samuel walk away. She didn’t start to tremble until seconds later when she realized what she’d done. She’d placed Isaac in a very difficult position. Their pretend courtship could have easily been explained away when Samuel left Pinecraft if she’d only kept her mouth shut about love and a wedding date.

  She and Isaac could have stopped seeing each other, told their friends the courtship didn’t work out and that would have been the end of the farce. But her words of love for Isaac and comments on an upcoming Christmas wedding had firmly cemented them into a real relationship.

  If Samuel repeated her declaration of their upcoming marriage to anyone, especially her mamm, her lie would have far-reaching repercussions and would be more difficult to explain away.

  Molly dropped her head to her chest. Isaac hadn’t bargained on anything more than a pretend courtship that might last a few weeks at best. Her lie was a sin, and she’d caused Isaac to sin by the act of omission.

  Isaac deserved better than this. He’d become a good friend and tried to help. Now she’d paid him back for his generosity with lies. Lies that only she could set straight. Now they would have to go to the bishop and explain. She’d have to confess and ask for forgiveness, and hope that Isaac would be able to forgive her, too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ten minutes of waiting in Otto Fischer’s office the next day had Isaac’s stomach churning. His heart racing. What would happen now? He thought about the shop, and Mose’s inexperienced nephew who was filling in for him.

  He leaned forward and glanced at Molly. She sat straight and prim in a wooden chair next to her brother-in-law, Mose. Her pale blue dress accentuated the color of her fair skin and hair, making her lovelier than he had ever seen her.

  Isaac smiled, trying to reassure her, but her brown eyes quickly darted away and focused on her hands. Her fingers continued to tear at the tissue he’d given her moments before.

  The door opened and the bishop walked in, bringing with him the fragrant aroma of chicken pot pie, no doubt his noontime meal. He looked around the room, his sharp blue eyes taking in first Molly and Isaac, and then his son, Mose. Pulling out a chair, he made himself comfortable behind his desk. “I hear I have a bit of bother to concern myself with instead of eating rhubarb compote and sponge cake under my shade trees.”

  Mose cleared his throat, as if to speak, but Molly jumped up and spoke first. “I have sinned and drawn Isaac Graber into my foolishness, Bishop Fischer.”

  Isaac watched her every move. He noticed her hands trembling at her sides. His heart went out to her. He stood, not willing to let her take all the blame. He’d been at fault, too. He could have stopped seeing Molly, ended the game. Instead, he’d pretended their courtship was real. He wouldn’t let her face this situation alone. Not while he had breath in his body. “We both have sinned,” he stated.

  Molly turned toward him, her face creased in frustration. “Isaac, please sit down! You’ve already done enough. I won’t have you taking my blame as your own. We both know—”

  Otto banged his empty coffee mug like a gavel. “Perhaps you both could sit down and give me a chance to ask a few questions. I’ll decide who’s at fault here and who’s not.”

  Isaac felt like a reprimanded child. He dropped into his chair and rubbed the side of his bad leg.

  Molly slowly took her seat and tucked her feet under her chair. She glared at Isaac and then glanced back at Otto, who waited patiently behind his desk.

  Mose stood. “I don’t think this will take long, Daed. Molly and Isaac have a problem regarding Ulla. They spoke to me today, and I suggested they come to you for counsel. We’re hoping you can unrave
l this situation with as little repercussion as possible.”

  Otto stroked his beard, his forehead creasing. “Ulla, huh. What has she done this time?” He turned toward Molly, his lips curved into a sympathetic smile. “Speak up, child.”

  “Ah...you see. Oh, there is no way to make this story short, Bishop.” Molly let her chin fall to her chest and used what was left of her tissue to dab at her eyes.

  “I’m here, Molly. Let me help. My job is to lead and direct the good people of this community. Judgment comes from the Lord, not from me.”

  She lifted her chin. “My mamm and I have a difference of opinion. She wants me to marry Samuel Bawell. I told her I wouldn’t under any circumstances. I’m twenty-one, not some youngie who doesn’t know her own mind. She has no right to tell me who I can and cannot marry.” She sucked in air and went on. “We quarreled and I got angry.” She lowered her chin. “I moved out of my mamm’s home.”

  “I know your mamm can be—” Otto cleared his throat and seemed to choose his words carefully “—difficult when riled, but moving out on your own was not a prudent choice, Molly.” He looked at her with an arched brow. “How long have you been living on your own?”

  “Just a few days, Daed. Molly is staying with Sarah and me for now.” Mose smiled as he informed his father of the news.

  “Gut, gut. Go on, Molly.”

  “At Birky Square last night, Isaac and I were listening to music and Samuel Bawell...he, ah, he came over and asked me to marry him again. I turned him down, as I usually do. You see, my mamm gave him permission to marry me without my consent.” She turned to Mose. “I don’t want to marry Samuel. I never have. I don’t love him, and I’ve told him so over and over. I got angry and spoke before I thought.”

  She shifted her gaze back to the bishop, her eyes glistening. “I told a lie, pure and simple.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose. “I told Samuel that Isaac and I were courting, which wasn’t true. We were only pretending to walk out together to keep Mamm out of my business.” She dropped her head again. “Then I told Samuel that Isaac and I would be married by Christmas.”