An Amish Mother for His Twins

by Patricia Davids

  “Why do you think Annie left me?”

  Maisie’s gaze returned to him. “Didn’t her notes say that she had tried to live Amish, but she couldn’t do it anymore?”

  “That never made sense. I know she liked working for that Englisch family, but she never complained about giving up electricity or television or riding in fast cars after she stopped working for them. Did she ever mention that to you?”

  Maisie shook her head. “I didn’t see much of her after you were married. I know she missed the children that she had been taking care of. She was very close to the family.”

  “She didn’t tell them she was leaving.”

  “As far as I know she didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t even tell me. I thought we shared everything.”

  She finally looked at him. “That is all in the past and can’t be changed. We should leave it there.”

  If only that was possible. He would wonder until his dying day what had gone wrong.

  The traffic was light on the highway and they saw no other buggies. There weren’t any Amish families beyond his place. Sassy kept up a steady trot without urging. They arrived at the Fisher farm only thirty minutes after leaving home. They weren’t the first. A dozen buggies were already parked along the lane. The horses, still wearing their harnesses, were busy munching hay, swishing their tails or dozing where they were tied to a white wooden corral fence.

  The bishop’s buggy was parked beside the barn, along with the gray enclosed wagon that carried the benches they would use. The backless wooden benches were transported to the family that was hosting the prayer meeting to provide enough seating.

  Nathan had heard of a new Amish settlement a hundred miles south of Fort Craig that used a permanent building for their church meetings, but the New Covenant Amish still met for worship in members’ homes every other Sunday, the way the Amish had done since the days of their persecution before coming to America in the 1700s.

  He pulled up outside the front-yard gate. Three women came out to meet Maisie. He recognized the two women he’d met at his house. He didn’t know the other woman. She was young with red hair, a babe in her arms and a toddler holding on to her skirt. Dinah Lapp introduced her as her daughter, Gemma Crump. Maisie was soon surrounded by more women and children all wanting to see the twins.

  “I’ll take your horse and buggy.”

  Nathan turned to see a boy of about fifteen at his window. The lad grinned. “I’m Harvey Gingrich. My oldest brother, Willis, is a blacksmith in New Covenant. I know who you are. What’s your mare’s name?”

  Nathan wondered what the boy knew about him. “Sassy. I have a grain bag for her in the back. You can put it on her now. Danki.”

  Harvey moved to take Sassy by the bridle. He patted her neck. “I’ll take goot care of her.”

  “Vellkumm, Nathan Weaver.” The oldest son of the Fisher family came toward him. His eyes were full of sympathy, but he didn’t mention Nathan’s loss.

  Nathan nodded to him. “Morning, Gabe.”

  “Give us a hand unloading the benches, will you?”

  “Sure.” Nathan would have offered without being asked, but he appreciated Gabe’s attempt to include him. A man pulling a bench out turned around to greet Gabe. He was clearly Gabe’s sibling.

  Gabe tipped his head toward him. “My brother Seth.”

  “You’re twins?” Nathan asked.

  “Triplets, although our brother Asher doesn’t look like us. He has dark hair like our little brother, Moses. We heard you have twins. Congratulations,” Gabe said.

  Seth grinned. “The best part of being a twin was fooling folks as to which of us was which when we were kids.”

  “I have a boy and a girl. I shouldn’t have trouble telling them apart,” Nathan said with a small grin.

  Gabe chuckled and clapped Nathan on the shoulder. “Let’s hope not. Grab that end of the bench and I’ll get the other.”

  “Where are we going?” Nathan asked, as barns, sheds and outbuildings were often used for large worship gatherings.

  “We’re a small congregation yet, so we all fit in the house,” Gabe said.

  Nathan nodded and lifted out the next bench. For the next twenty minutes he met more of the men from the New Covenant Amish community. Only one, a man named Tully Lange, gripped Nathan’s hand and offered his condolences. An older man with Tully touched his shoulder and shook his head. Tully seemed surprised but walked away.

  The older man leaned heavily on a cane. “I’m Gideon Beachy. My son-in-law isn’t familiar with all our ways. He’s newly come to the Amish. I will explain to him that we seldom mention the dead once a funeral is over. To do so may be seen as questioning Gott’s will.”

  Nathan knew he was still questioning. “Tell Tully I appreciate his sympathy.”

  “I shall. Vellkumm to New Covenant. I think you’ll find we are all goot neighbors and friends. I see the bishop and the ministers going in. Must be time for the service to start.”

  Nathan followed Gideon inside. The older man took a seat in one of the family’s overstuffed chairs that had been set up beside a row of benches.

  The seating was separated into two columns with an aisle between. Men and women sat separately. Nathan took his place among the married men sitting on the first few benches at the front, and picked up the black hymnal that had been set out for him. Behind him sat a row of beardless young unmarried men. In the last row on the men’s side, the youngest boys were seated closest to the door, ready to make a quick exit when the service was over.

  On the other side of the aisle were the women. He caught sight of Maisie in between two young mothers with children beside them. She seemed at ease. He didn’t doubt that she had answered more questions about their situation than he had. It seemed to him that women were more curious about others than men were.

  The volsinger, or song leader, a man near the front of the room, announced the hymn. The rustling of hymnals being opened and pages being turned filled the quiet space. When the sound faded, the man began the first hymn in a loud clear voice, and everyone joined in.

  There was no musical accompaniment to an Amish prayer service. There were only voices of the faithful solemnly praising God in slow, mournful tones. The lyrics of the song were written in the hymnal Nathan held, but there were no musical notes to follow. The hymns had been handed down through countless generations, always sung from memory.

  Nathan joined in the song and found a surprising peace in recalling the words he had sung since he was old enough to talk. He glanced at Maisie. She had her eyes downcast as she sang. He could just pick out her voice. Slightly off-key, but filled with enthusiasm.

  How many times had he cast his eyes toward Annie during the service when he first saw her? She had been so pretty, she’d taken his breath away. If Maisie had been there he didn’t remember seeing her, but she would have been sitting with the married women, like she was today.

  When the last words of the song died away, the bishop and two other men entered the front of the room. They would share the preaching, taking turns throughout the next three or four hours.

  Nathan glanced at Maisie again, wondering how she would fare with both babies to look after for all that time. He didn’t need to worry. Less than an hour into the service another babe in the room started fussing. The young mother sent her toddler across the aisle to her father, a big burly man with black hair sitting in front of Nathan. Maisie and the other mother took their infants from the room. He heard them going upstairs.

  * * *

  Maisie followed Gemma to a bedroom at the end of the hall on the second story. The window was open to the morning breeze, which carried in the scent of roses. Crossing to the window, Maisie looked down and saw a trellis below heavily laden with the red, fragrant blooms. “I wondered how flowers would do this far north, but I see Mrs. Fisher has a lovely garden.”

&n
bsp; “The winters are harsh. Our summers are short, but the summer days are long this far north. That gives flowers and vegetables plenty of sunlight. It isn’t a forgiving land, but it can be bountiful.”

  Maisie turned away from the window. “How old is your son?”

  “Three months.”

  Maisie grinned. “He’s big for his age.”

  “I know. He takes after his father. My daughter was premature, so I’m not used to lugging such a big fellow around. How old are the twins?”

  “Two weeks.” Maisie sat down on one of the twin beds in the room and lifted Jacob out of his basket, then began to change his diaper. He kicked happily.

  “They grow up too fast,” Gemma said with a sad smile. “It must be difficult for you. Coming so far and not finding a warm welcome from their father. Dinah told me about your situation.”

  “I will treasure every moment I have with them. When Nathan hires a nanny, I will look for a job of my own. I intend to stay in New Covenant. They are my sister’s children, and I can’t leave them. I know she wouldn’t want me to.”

  “There is plenty of work during the potato harvest, but I’m afraid over the winter it may be harder to find a job. The area is very rural. The Amish here don’t have little shops and home businesses the way they do in other communities where tourism brings in lots of people. The reason New Covenant was founded was to avoid the temptations that come with tourism and allow Amish families to tend the land the way it used to be.”

  “Then your husband must be a farmer.”

  “Jesse and I raise potatoes for our main cash crop, but also hay and oats for our animals. For a while he worked for Bishop Schultz building garden sheds, but since we were able to acquire more land Jesse now farms full-time. It’s nice to have him close by to help when I need him. Is Nathan going to stop working for Arthur Davis?”

  “Not anytime soon. He has hospital bills to pay.”

  “I’m sure the church will help with his bills. They helped me and my husband pay for Grace’s medical care.”

  “Nathan feels that because he isn’t a member of this congregation he shouldn’t ask for their assistance.”

  Gemma scowled at Maisie. “That’s ridiculous. We help any Amish family in need. Our church has sent donations to those affected by tragedies in many states.”

  “Someone else will have to persuade him of that because he won’t listen to me.”

  Gemma arched one eyebrow. “Stubborn, is he?”

  Maisie smiled. “A little.”

  Gemma chuckled. “I’ll have my husband speak to him and perhaps the bishop can. There’s no shame in needing help. That goes for you, too. Taking care of little ones can be exhausting. Especially twins. Any one of us would be happy to take over and give you a few hours rest since Nathan won’t be at home.”

  “Danki. I do miss my sleep.”

  “I know it isn’t always possible, but I think it’s best when a father doesn’t have to leave the farm for work. Our families are second only to God in importance.”

  Maisie smiled at the baby she held. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “I hate to see you being separated from them. Are you sure Nathan won’t relent and allow you to be their kinder heeda?”

  “I’m sure he won’t. Besides, it may be for the best.”

  Gemma’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you say that?”

  “It just would.” Tears pricked the backs of Maisie’s eyes. She quickly blinked them back. Her feelings for Nathan weren’t something she could talk about. It didn’t seem right to harbor such affection for her sister’s husband.

  “I think my boy is finished. May I feed your little girl?” Gemma asked.

  Maisie managed a smile. “Please do. Her bottle is in the bag with her.”

  After the babies were fed, the women returned to the prayer meeting. Maisie kept her eyes down, resisting the urge to see if Nathan was looking her way. When simply talking about him made her eyes tear up she couldn’t risk meeting his gaze. She didn’t want him to suspect how much she had come to care for him.

  When the service ended, Bishop Schultz faced everyone. “I have one announcement to make. We have a new family joining our community. Peter Yoder, his wife and their twelve children. Peter has purchased the home south of Gideon Beachy’s dairy, but it isn’t big enough for his family, so we are having a work frolic to build an addition onto his house this coming Saturday. Leroy Lapp has a list of needed supplies so check with him.”

  As everyone filed out, Maisie stayed in the house to help ready the meal along with several other women. She caught sight of Nathan waiting for her by the door. When he started toward her, she fought down the urge to run in the opposite direction.

  “Aren’t you ready to go?” he asked.

  “I must help serve the meal.” Around her, the men were rearranging the benches and stacking them into tables where people could eat.

  Nathan nodded toward the door. “Others can do that.”

  “I don’t want people to think I am a slacker. I will do my part. We can leave once the meal is over. If you are afraid to stay longer I’m sure someone can give the children and myself a ride home later.”

  “I’m not afraid to stay. I just don’t like standing around talking. It’s pointless.”

  She could tell from his tone that he wasn’t happy. Neither was she. He was being ridiculous, and her patience was growing thin. She wanted him to leave her alone. “Then sit in a corner and pout until I’m done.”

  His frown deepened, then he turned on his heel and left. She wanted to call him back and apologize but maybe it was better if they stayed at odds with each other.

  So much for her plan to be kinder to him.

  * * *

  Bishop Schultz was coming in the door as Nathan was going out. “Nathan, I’m delighted to see you. I’m glad you could join us.”

  He didn’t say it was about time, but Nathan heard the words the bishop left unspoken. “Maisie was keen to come.” He should have let her come alone.

  “My wife had only goot things to say about meeting her.”

  Nathan didn’t want to talk about Maisie. The woman was exasperating. “Have you found anyone to take care of my children?”

  “I confess I have not. Why don’t you want your sister-in-law to stay?”

  Nathan glanced over his shoulder. “We don’t get along.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Division in a family is never a good thing. Most often it is the children who suffer because of it.”

  The bishop laid his hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want that. Do what you can to mend your differences before it affects the children.”

  “I don’t think we can.”

  Bishop Shultz bent forward to look into Nathan’s eyes. “Are you sure it isn’t bitterness toward your late wife that makes you say that? Her actions wounded you deeply and you will never know the reason for her choices. Forgiveness must come first, even before understanding. That is the cornerstone of our faith. You will not know peace until that happens.”

  “I’m afraid that’s easier said than done.”

  “Only because you aren’t yet willing to make that commitment. When you are ready, forgiveness will come easily. I must ask you one more question. It, too, may not have an easy answer.”

  “What?”

  “Are you being fair to Maisie? Think on it. I hope to see you at the frolic.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Nathan wanted to ignore the bishop’s words, but the harder he tried to forget them, the more they stuck in his mind. Was he being fair to Maisie?

  Maybe he wasn’t, but he didn’t want to be constantly reminded of Annie, either. He couldn’t see a way to reconcile his dilemma. He couldn’t escape thinking about her even when she was out of his sight.

  “Nathan, have you got a minute
?” Gabe asked, beckoning to him from across the driveway.

  “Sure.” Nathan walked toward him.

  Gabe gestured toward the building that was attached to the side of the barn. “You’ve been in my workshop. You bought your harness from me.”

  “I did and I’m pleased with it.”

  “Glad to hear that. I’ve been thinking about expanding the place. I’m considering a log addition. I know you built your home from logs. I was wondering what the drawbacks would be.”

  Nathan pushed his relationship with Maisie to the back of his mind. He slipped his hands into his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You won’t find many drawbacks to log construction. Well-fitted logs provide plenty of insulation to keep it cool in the summer and warm in the winter. You can hang hooks for your merchandise anywhere on the walls. If you have your own trees, as I did, the only lumber you have to purchase is for the roof, windows and doors. In addition, a peeled and polished log interior is attractive without needing any paneling or paint. A coat of varnish will make the natural color last a long time.”

  At this point Gabe’s dad, Zeke, had joined them. “We would need someone to point out which trees we should harvest.”

  “I could do that for you,” Nathan said. “I’d advise against using them this season. It’s best to let them dry out over the winter. Are you in a hurry to expand?”

  Zeke chuckled. “My sons are always in a hurry. Why don’t you take a look around our forest and see if we have trees that are worth harvesting before we take the idea any further.”

  “I’ve started back to work for Arthur Davis so it will have to be next weekend before I can get out here.”

  Zeke looked at Gabe and then nodded. “That’s agreeable.”

  “If you have the right kind of timber, will you cut it yourself or will you need a logger?” Nathan asked, hoping for a little extra income.

  Gabe lifted his hat and combed back his blond hair with his fingers. He settled his hat on again and looked at Nathan. “We can’t conduct business on Sunday. We’ll discuss that when you come to look over our trees. How about a game of horseshoes? Cowboy can join us. He loves the game.”