Maisie was standing on the front porch. “Who was that?” he asked, nodding toward the car that had just driven away.
“Another applicant for your position. She wasn’t suitable.” Maisie turned and walked into the house.
“What makes you say that?” He followed her inside.
“Because she wasn’t.”
“You’re gonna have to give a better reason than that.” It occurred to him that she might have deliberately sent the woman away. She didn’t want him to hire a nanny.
“She wasn’t Amish.”
He scowled. “I never said that was a requirement. Did she have experience?”
“She brought a résumé from her previous job, but I didn’t care for her attitude.”
“You’re being deliberately vague. You could have asked her to wait another ten minutes and I could have spoken to her myself.”
“It would’ve been a waste of your time and hers. I know the type of person who should be taking care of these babies and she wasn’t it.” Maisie walked to the sofa and sat down with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
She was being deliberately infuriating. “You don’t want me to hire anyone. No one will be the right kind of person in your eyes. You have taken advantage of my trust the same way your sister did.”
Her eyes widened with shock. She surged to her feet. “If you feel that way you can call the woman and set up another interview. Her number is still on the answering machine. I’m going out. Make yourself something for supper. I’m tired of being your cook, bottle washer and housekeeper without getting a word of thanks. I don’t know why I bother trying to please you. If those children didn’t need me, I’d be gone today.”
She stormed out of the house. He tossed his package on the sofa, collapsed into his chair and raked his hands through his hair. She was driving him to distraction. How much longer could he go on this way?
Fix his own supper? That wasn’t a problem. He’d been cooking for himself for months. He got out of his chair and went to the kitchen to search the canned goods Maisie’s friend had brought for something quick to eat. He could wash his own clothes and do his own mending, too, for that matter.
What did she mean when she said she was trying to please him? Why would she say that?
He found himself staring at an empty counter. Where had she put the jars and canned food? His storage space was limited and already full. Had she taken them out of the house to store them?
He looked around and noticed something under his open stairs. Walking over to investigate, he saw several neatly made shelves tucked underneath the stairwell. They were lined with all the canned produce the bishop’s wife and Dinah Lapp had brought over.
It was a clever idea and a good use of his limited space. He fingered the rough-cut boards. It wouldn’t take much for him to sand them smooth. A coat of paint and they would be as nice as store-bought. Who knew Annie’s sister was handy with a hammer and a saw? Annie hadn’t been.
Maisie must’ve learned the skills from her husband, or perhaps her father. He glanced toward the door. Maybe he had been too hard on her. She was helping him of her own free will and at no charge. He wouldn’t be able to work at all if she hadn’t been here. It annoyed him that he would have to apologize. Again.
* * *
Maisie wasn’t paying attention to where she was going. She found a path in the woods leading away from the house and stayed on it. She wanted to get away from Nathan’s accusing stare, from his constant comparisons to her sister. She wasn’t Annie, but he would never see that.
He couldn’t trust her because she was like her sister. She wasn’t, but he wouldn’t accept it. He thought she was capable of deceiving him.
Maybe she didn’t want him to hire a caregiver for the babies, but that wasn’t her reason for turning away a self-absorbed Englisch woman who couldn’t stop checking her phone for five minutes.
He would discover the same thing for himself if he interviewed Ms. Harper. Would he admit Maisie was right about her? She doubted it. He would probably hire the woman just to spite her.
She didn’t take notice of where she was until there was a small bridge in front of her that arched over a brook. It was made of small logs expertly joined together. It was Nathan’s work. She knew that without being told.
She walked onto the bridge and stopped in the middle. She leaned on the railing to look into the water rushing by underneath. The babbling sound began to soothe her ragged nerves. Little by little she heard the sounds of the forest around her. The birds and the insects going about their lives on a warm summer evening. It was a special place. A place for lovers to stroll along and stop to kiss where she was standing. It would be a wonderful spot to kiss someone she loved. She could almost imagine Nathan holding her close as the brook sang to them. How foolish was that thought?
“It’s a pretty spot, isn’t it?”
Maisie looked up to see Lilly Arnett standing on the path. “Ja, it is.”
“Nathan built that bridge for me not long after he first arrived.”
Maisie patted the solid railing. “I thought as much.”
“How is he?” Lilly came onto the bridge and stood beside Maisie, looking into the water, as well.
“He’s irritating, exasperating, closed-minded, stubborn and ungrateful.”
Lilly threw back her head and laughed. It took Maisie a minute to see the humor in her litany of Nathan’s shortcomings. She finally smiled.
Lilly leaned toward Maisie. “Enjoying your visit, are you?”
“With the babies, I am.”
“Nathan doesn’t get along with a lot of people. He prefers to be by himself. I understand that. I’m the same way. I wondered when I dropped you off at his place that night if he would welcome your help or send you packing.”
“He drove me to the bus station the next morning,” Maisie admitted with a wry smile.
“But you’re still here.”
“There wasn’t a bus going south for three days.”
Lilly chuckled. “We are remote in this part of the state. It’s been longer than three days and yet here you stand.”
“I’m staying. He can’t make me leave.” Maisie discovered a renewed sense of determination. “The babies are my sister’s children. I promised to help take care of them. I didn’t know that would be the last thing I said to her.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. I never met her. I didn’t know Nathan was married until I gave you a ride.”
“They had been living apart.” Maisie hoped that was enough of an explanation.
Lilly straightened. “Come down to my place. I’ll fix us a cup of herbal tea and we can get better acquainted.”
Maisie smiled at her. “I’d like that.”
After an hour of tea, yummy butter cookies and quiet conversation, Lilly took Maisie on a tour of her extensive flower gardens, which included an abundance of wildflowers. Maisie happened to notice a glint of light through some overgrown ivy.
“What’s that back there?”
Lilly looked to where she was pointing. “That used to be a caretaker’s cottage when the place belonged to my grandparents. My in-laws used to stay there for the summers when my husband was alive. They are all gone now. I guess I should clean it up. It’s too nice a place to let the ivy have it.”
After another half hour of friendly chatter, Maisie bid her new friend goodbye and headed up the path. She had learned that Nathan had done odd jobs for Lilly in exchange for home-cooked meals when he’d first arrived. Clearing a path between the two homes had been his idea, so that Lilly didn’t have to drive over to his place when she needed something. It was three miles by the winding road, but only three quarters of a mile though the woods.
Maisie stopped at the edge of the clearing when the cabin came into view. Light from the lamp over the kitchen table and from the one by the fi
replace sent a warm glow spilling out the windows and the open doorway. It would be an inviting picture if she wasn’t so uncertain of her welcome.
Maybe Nathan was right. It hadn’t been intentional, but maybe she couldn’t find someone suitable to care for the babies because she wanted so badly to care for them herself. From now on she would let him conduct the interviews and she would stay in the background.
She heard his voice before she reached the door. Pausing, she listened to him reading a story about a baby rabbit’s adventures. When she stepped inside, she saw he had a babe in each arm while he balanced the book on his lap. He looked up at her.
“Don’t stop,” she said, coming in to sit down.
“Why don’t you read? It’s hard for me to turn the pages without jostling the babies.”
“Okay.” She took the book from him and looked at the colorful cover. “Where did you get this?”
“I stepped into the bookstore in town while Jimmy ran his errands tonight.”
She sat back and began to read. “‘Alejandro the cottontail spent many a wonderful hour in his rather small yard dreaming about the wonderful, spectacular thing he was destined to do one day. Of course he didn’t know what that would be, but he had a spectacular imagination to match his spectacular name and he imagined all kinds of wonderful things.
“‘What did a rather small rabbit imagine he could do? Well, one day he might rescue a beautiful princess and they would live in a towering castle.’”
Maisie read on through the imaginary adventures of the bunny until she came to the end of the story.
“‘Late that night as Alejandro snuggled up to his mother’s soft fur, she bent and kissed his forehead. Looking into her warm brown eyes, he whispered, “I love you, Mother.”
“‘“Oh, Alejandro,” his mother sighed. “That is the most wonderful, spectacular thing I have ever heard.”
“‘Alejandro smiled happily as he drifted off to sleep. He had known all along that he would do something as wonderful and spectacular as his name. He just didn’t know how simple it would be.’”
Maisie closed the book. “It’s a very cute story.”
“It’s not an Amish story. But I liked the illustrations and I thought the children would, too, someday.”
“I like the message, that telling someone you love them is the most wonderful, spectacular thing you can do.”
“Can you take Charity?” he asked.
“Of course.” Maisie laid the book aside and took the baby from his arm. He flexed his fingers and she smiled. “Pins and needles?”
“I should’ve put her down sooner, but I hated to disturb her. She looks so peaceful and precious when she is sleeping.”
Maisie laid Charity in her cradle while he settled Jacob in the other one. Nathan stood up straight and slipped his hands in his front pockets. “I was harsh earlier. I’m sorry.”
“You might have been right. Maybe I didn’t like either woman because I don’t want to relinquish taking care of the twins.”
“I fried a can of pressed pork for supper. Would you like some?”
“I’m not hungry. I met Lilly Arnett on my walk. She fed me tea and butter cookies.”
“She always has some on hand for visitors, although she claims she likes living alone. I wanted to tell you that I like your idea for extra storage under the stairs.”
She glanced that way. “It’s not meant to be permanent. I needed a place to store the canned goods so I could have my kitchen counter back. I mean, your kitchen counter,” she added hastily. He stood so close that she could reach out and touch him if she dared. She curled her fingers into her palms.
“You’re handy with a saw and hammer. Was it your father who taught you?”
“My husband. I was curious about the things he built. He didn’t mind teaching me.” In his way, John had been kind to her, but not loving.
“You must’ve paid attention. It’s sturdy.” Nathan picked up the book. “I bought several like this. Would you want to see them?”
“Certainly.” Maisie relaxed as he stepped away from her and picked up the books on the mantel. He handed them to her. They were all stories about baby animals with problems to solve.
Nathan’s and her problems weren’t solved, but at least they weren’t arguing. It was a small step in the right direction.
She gave the books back to him. “You’ll have to build a bookshelf for them when they are old enough to read.”
He looked around the room. “Where would I put it?”
“In their bedroom, I guess, or there in the corner beside the fireplace.”
“I like the idea of having it out here where I can watch them. A family should spend time together.”
Maisie smiled at his enthusiasm. “I doubt that will be a problem as you only have one room in your house.”
“For now, but I’ll add on as they grow. I’ve thought about lifting the roof and adding a second story with several bedrooms.”
He was looking to the future. Maisie was glad he could. He was healing. A bigger house might mean a bigger family. A wife and other children.
And no need for an aunt.
Chapter Ten
The rest of the week passed in a blur for Nathan. His workdays were long and tiring without the additional helper Davis had promised. He had breakfast with Maisie, kissed his children goodbye and didn’t return home until almost dark.
Maisie took over his evening chores, feeding the animals, cleaning stalls and making sure the livestock and poultry were secured at night. She didn’t ask. She just started doing it. Because of her, he had a free hour in the evenings to spend reading to the babies or simply holding them before heading to bed.
On Saturday, he worked ten hours for some much-needed overtime pay, but he told himself it was the last time. He didn’t want to spend that much time away from his children again if it could be helped.
No one else responded to his ads for childcare. He had to face the fact that he still needed Maisie’s help.
Sunday brought the event he dreaded most since Annie’s funeral. His first prayer meeting with all the members of his new Amish community. He might have stayed home if he had been on his own, but Maisie insisted that he take her.
She was up when he entered the cabin and had breakfast waiting for him. Afterward, she gathered together the pies and cookies she had baked the night before and loaded them into a cardboard box for him to put in the buggy. There would be a meal after the three-or four-hour-long service and every family would bring something to contribute.
After loading the food, he came back in to help her with the babies.
She didn’t glance his way. “Jacob is ready to go. I’m going to have to change Charity’s gown. She spit up on this one.”
“Are you worried about meeting more members of the community?” he asked.
“Nee, why should I be?”
Because I am. “No reason.”
“Go on,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.” She wore a white apron over a dark green dress. It was a color Annie had often worn. She once said it made her eyes look greener. He thought it was a vain reason. Was that why Maisie chose the same shade?
Why wouldn’t she share her sister’s vanity? They were twins.
He carried Jacob in his basket out to the buggy and settled him on the front seat. The buggy itself had been washed and swept out. Sassy had been groomed until her coat was as shiny black as a raven’s wing. Her harness had been oiled and the brass fittings polished. His rig hadn’t looked this good since he’d bought it. He might not be a man of means, but he wasn’t ashamed of what he had.
He got in, picked up the lines and waited. He was about to call to Maisie when she came rushing out the door. “I hope I haven’t made us late.”
“We have plenty of time. It isn’t far to the Fisher place.”
/>
“What do you know about them?” Maisie asked as she settled herself and Charity.
Nathan spoke to Sassy to get her moving. “Walk on. The father is a wheelwright. He has four sons. One of them is a harness maker. The others work with him.”
“Are they married?” she asked.
He glanced her way. Was she hoping to find a husband in New Covenant? She had been a widow for more than two years. There was no reason why she couldn’t remarry. “The oldest is. Gabriel, he’s the harness maker. He goes by Gabe. He’s married to Esther. One of the other sons is married, too, but I don’t know which one.”
“Have you decided on the story we should tell people about Annie’s death? The truth is always best, of course. Still, I thought we should compare what we will say.”
“I reckon so.” She was right but he hated thinking about it. The bishop knew the whole story. Nathan had explained his situation in confidence when he asked Bishop Schultz to perform Annie’s private burial service. Why did he have to say anything to the others? Why couldn’t it be his business and no one else’s?
Maisie folded her hands in her lap. “You and Annie were married in Seymour, Missouri, where she and I grew up. You came to Maine to start a new life. Annie was on her way to join you when she went into labor, delivered the babies and died of complications before she reached you. That is all true.”
“What if someone asks why it took her so long to join me? They know I’ve been here for months.”
“Then you will have to answer as you see fit. Not every marriage is a happy one. People know that.”
“Was yours?”
Her startled gaze shot to his then she looked away. “For the most part. It’s not possible to be happy all the time.”
“Did you ever think about leaving him?”
“Nee, the idea never crossed my mind. I was married to John for better or for worse, no matter what problems we encountered.”
An Amish Mother for His Twins Page 11
