These were the same young men, she realized, who seemed to hang around every event she’d attended so far. Caught up in the notion she was plain, it dawned on her that she was, for the first time in her life, attracting male attention.
This was reinforced later when Sarah sidled up and whispered, “I think Charles is interested in you.”
“What? Really?” Jane refrained from glancing over at the young man. “I thought it might be David, since he’s been at my side the whole evening.”
“Him too. And maybe even Daniel. But not Josiah. I thought he was too heartbroken still, but now he may be courting.”
Josiah? Jane’s ears pricked up. That was the young man Levy’s sister had left behind when she disappeared into the Englisch world.
“Which one is Josiah?” she asked Sarah.
The young woman pointed to a nice-looking man with straight brown hair. He sat with another young woman, talking. “He was stuck on Eliza for a long time,” Sarah stated. “But now maybe things will be different. I hope so. He’s a gut man. Come on, the singing is just getting started.”
The mishmash of chairs and benches filled up as the young people seated themselves, most with hymn books in hand. Jane took Mercy back and found herself with Sarah and Rhoda, while the young men seated themselves opposite, with Jane’s admirers sitting as near to her as was possible in the barn.
The group sang vigorously for half an hour before breaking for something to drink, and Jane found herself once more the center of attention. She remembered telling Levy of the need to step outside her comfort zone, and she realized it was getting easier to do as she chatted with her new friends.
Jane noticed Josiah glance at her, then look away. She suspected it was because he knew she held Eliza’s baby. He remained with the young woman she’d noticed earlier.
The group sang some more, then broke for the meal. Jane went into a quiet corner so she could change Mercy’s diaper and feed her.
Sarah kept her company while the baby drank her bottle. “I saw Charles whispering to his brother and glancing your way,” she confessed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was thinking about courting you.”
The thought was not exciting, though she liked Charles well enough.
Sarah’s teasing grin faded. With feminine precision, she asked, “Is it Levy?”
“What? No!”
Her friend’s eyebrows arched. “Well, then, is Levy interested in you?”
“As a nanny, yes. As a woman, of course not.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“We’re like oil and water. He doesn’t like it when I attend youngie events, and I don’t like his moodiness.”
“Okay, if you say so.” Sarah grinned.
“Stop it,” ordered Jane. “Don’t create something that isn’t there.”
“I don’t think I have to.” Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “You say boys never paid much attention to you before, but why bother with boys if a decent man like Levy finds you interesting?”
To her annoyance, Jane felt her face flush. “He doesn’t. He just finds me useful.”
“And how do you feel about Levy?” Sarah asked her.
Jane looked down at Mercy. “It used to be I wanted to strangle him half the time. Now, that’s not the case. I know he’s wrestling with what to do with the boppli, and that means he’s sometimes hard to be around.”
“I can imagine. Is she done drinking her bottle? I saw some walnut brownies on the table.”
Jane returned the empty bottle to the diaper bag and hoisted Mercy over her shoulder, burping her as she went. She joined Sarah in line for food.
And when Charles offered to carry her plate, citing her full hands with the baby, she thanked him and wondered what it would be like to be courted. By anyone.
* * *
The rain continued to fall as she set out to return to Levy’s after the singing. It wasn’t terribly late and the skies were gloomy, but not pitch-dark. Jane had no trouble seeing the road as she walked back. Mercy slept in the sling, snug against Jane’s body.
As she approached Levy’s house, she saw he had set a lamp in the window for her. That thoughtful gesture touched her.
She let herself inside, making sure to create a lot of noise so Levy knew she was back. Soon he emerged from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, as she closed the door behind her.
“How was the singing?” he asked.
“It was fun. Lots of people.” She paused for effect, then added, “Lots of cute boys too.”
His mouth thinned. “How nice.”
“And Sarah pointed out Josiah to me. It looks like he might be courting someone.”
Levy nodded. “I’m sure that’s for the best. He took Eliza’s departure hard.”
“He seemed to avoid me. I think it’s because I had Eliza’s baby with me.” She patted the baby’s bottom through the sling. “But everyone else loves her. She gets passed around and fussed over.”
Jane made her way to the kitchen, where she placed the diaper bag on a chair. “I’m going to diaper and feed Mercy, then put her down. I think she’s quite tired.”
By the time the boppli was fast asleep in her crib, it was pitch-dark outside with the rain still falling. “I can drive you home in the buggy,” offered Levy.
“Nein, danke. I know the way and can probably walk it quicker than it would take you to hitch up the horse.” Jane swung her cloak around her shoulders and fastened the clasp. “I’ll see you in the morning. Hopefully the rain will have stopped.”
She picked up her wet umbrella from the porch and started walking toward her aunt and uncle’s house. She was later than usual and hoped they hadn’t worried.
“It was an impromptu singing,” she explained after arriving home. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know, but it was so much fun!”
Uncle Peter chuckled. “This rain put off a lot of work today, so I’m glad the Millers donated the use of their barn for a singing.”
Jane removed her damp cloak and hung it to dry on a peg near the front door. “I was happy to have something to do, since Levy was hanging around the house all day and driving me nuts.”
Peter raised his eyebrows. “Does he often drive you nuts?”
“Ja. We seem to rub each other the wrong way.”
Her uncle looked concerned. “Is it too difficult to work for him? You can come work in the store anytime, you know.”
“Nein, I couldn’t do that to Mercy. It would mean leaving her in the clutches of an incompetent uncle.” She made a face, then chuckled. “Don’t worry, Onkel Peter. Levy is outside in the fields most of the time anyway, and Mercy is a joy.”
“Well, if you’re sure...”
“I’m sure.” Jane yawned. “Gude nacht, I’m off to bed.” She kissed her aunt and uncle on their cheeks and went upstairs.
* * *
Jane woke to a day that dawned sunny and humid, with the earth giving off moisture after the relentless rain of the past few days.
As soon as Jane arrived at the farm, Levy was frantic. “I have tons to do,” he said. “I missed a whole day of work yesterday, so I have to get moving if I’m going to have enough to sell at this week’s market.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
He paused and looked at her. “Would you be able to pick raspberries and work on jam? We can sell it on Saturday.”
“Sure. It’s not hard to do with a baby in the sling, or on a blanket in the shade.”
“Then yes, that would be great. Danke.”
He seemed to have gotten over his moodiness from yesterday, Jane thought. She fed and diapered the baby, tidied the house, then bundled Mercy in the sling, grabbed a blanket and a couple of buckets and headed outside to the raspberry patch.
The day was warm, and she was glad some of the patch was shaded by a generous maple tree. She
stripped Mercy down to just her diaper and laid her on a blanket under the tree and picked nearly two gallons of berries before the baby got squirmy and Jane was sweaty.
“Wow, that’s a lot of berries.” Levy came around the corner of the house and peered at the buckets.
“It will certainly add to your inventory of things to sell on Saturday, once I get these turned into jam. Is it lunchtime already?”
“If my growling stomach is any indication,” he joked, and just then, Jane’s own stomach made noises. They both laughed.
He glanced at the baby. “It’s not too hot out here for her?”
“No worse for her than for you or me.” Jane leaned down and lifted Mercy, whose face was beaded with sweat. She wiped the infant with a corner of her apron. “But ja, she seems warm. I’m ready to go inside.”
She slipped Mercy into the sling and picked up one of the buckets of berries. Levy grabbed the other and she followed him into the kitchen.
“It’s just going to be sandwiches for lunch today.” She put the baby in her bouncy chair on the table and bustled around the kitchen, preparing food.
Levy washed his hands and made himself a sandwich from the ingredients Jane laid out. He sat at the table and looked at Mercy. “She seems awfully quiet today.”
“She’s probably just warm.” Jane sat down and took a bite of her own sandwich. “She was quiet while I was picking raspberries, which was gut.”
Levy gulped some cool water and finished his sandwich. He grabbed a few oatmeal-raisin cookies from the supply Jane had made yesterday. “I’m heading back to work.”
Jane looked at the buckets of raspberries and sighed. Making jam was hot work, and it was already a hot day.
At least Mercy stayed quiet while she worked. It took all afternoon, but Jane preserved sixteen pints of jam from the berries she’d picked that morning.
She shoved a damp strand of hair off her forehead as she surveyed her handiwork, satisfied. The jars were lined up on the countertop, cooling on a towel. They looked like jars of rubies. That should bring in a nice bit of extra income for Levy—and herself.
She washed up and glanced at Mercy, who had fallen asleep in her bouncy chair. Jane frowned. The child looked flushed. She laid a hand gently atop the baby’s forehead and nearly gasped at the heat she felt. Mercy had a fever! A high fever! While she was busy working on the jam, the infant entrusted to her care was burning up with fever.
Moving fast, Jane took some of the boiling water from the stove and poured it into the same washbasin she’d used to bathe the baby yesterday, then diluted it with cool water until the bath was just a bit cooler than tepid. She laid a padded towel into the water.
Then she unstrapped the baby and lifted her up. Mercy whimpered but didn’t wake. Jane stripped her bare, then laid the baby into the water, pouring liquid over the heated limbs and belly. Mercy woke up, her eyes glazed with fever, but didn’t cry.
“Please, Gott, let her get better,” Jane whispered. “Please, Gott, let her get better...”
Guilt plagued her. If she’d only paid attention to the baby, not the jam, not her tangled feelings about Levy, not her own fatigue. The baby. Her sole focus should have been the baby.
Jane spent twenty minutes trying to cool down the child. At last she lifted her out of the water and wrapped her in a dry towel, then scoured the house for medicine, anything to lower her fever. She found nothing.
By the time Levy came back in from his work, sweaty and dirty, she was nearly frantic with worry. “Mercy’s sick,” she told him. “She has a high fever. Do you have any baby ibuprofen in the house?”
“Nein, I don’t.” Concern written on his face, he peered at the infant’s flushed skin. “Should I hitch up and go buy some?”
“I think so, ja.” Jane placed the baby over her shoulder and patted her back. “Whatever you do, make sure you don’t get aspirin—babies can’t have it. It should be ibuprofen. And if you’re going out, can you stop at my aunt and uncle’s and let them know I might not be home tonight? I want to stay with her.”
“Ja.” Levy snatched up the sweat-soaked straw hat he had just discarded and put it on his head. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
While he was gone, Jane bathed Mercy once again in cool water, praying the fever would lessen.
Levy came back much sooner than anticipated, panting. “We’re taking her to the hospital,” he said without preamble. “Catherine said fevers in babies this young are an emergency. Peter is asking an Englisch neighbor to drive us over there.”
Panic clutched Jane at the thought of Mercy being in danger. “I’ll pack a diaper bag.”
She ran around the house, gathering bottles and formula and clean diapers and other necessary items. And all the while she berated herself for her lack of vigilance. If only she hadn’t picked raspberries. If only she hadn’t made jam. If only...
“Jane, calm down.” Levy, still filthy from his outdoor work, watched her frantic movements.
She stopped in her tracks and covered her face with her hands. “Please, Gott, let her be okay,” she whispered. She looked at Levy and felt the pressure of tears. “I feel like it’s my fault she’s sick.”
“Nein, it’s not. Babies get sick sometimes.” He cocked his head toward the screen door. “I think I hear the car. Let the doctor tell us why she’s sick before you start blaming yourself. Komm.”
Chapter Nine
Levy carried the packed diaper bag and Jane carried Mercy, who wore nothing but a diaper and a thin blanket. Jane barely saw the car’s driver, but she thanked him in a shaky voice for agreeing to drive them to the hospital.
“I’ve got kids. I understand,” he said.
The driver raced through the streets until he reached Grand Creek’s small hospital, and pulled right up to the emergency room entrance. Jane scrambled out right behind Levy.
“This baby has a high fever,” Jane told the receptionist.
“Are you the mother?”
“No, I’m the nanny...”
“I’m the baby’s uncle and her legal guardian.” Levy spoke over her shoulder.
“The fever spiked up this afternoon,” Jane told her. “I’ve been giving her cool baths but it’s not making a difference.”
A nurse came through the double doors. “How old is the baby?”
“She’s about four weeks old.”
The professional nodded. “It’s good you brought her in. At that age, fevers can be serious. We’ll check her for infection.” Then the nurse whisked Mercy deeper into the hospital while Levy started filling out the inevitable paperwork.
Jane huddled on a waiting room chair, feeling helpless and vulnerable...and guilty. The baby’s unusual lethargy should have tipped her off.
“Still blaming yourself?” Levy dropped into the seat next to her.
“Ja. I should have noticed she was sick sooner than I did.”
“Funny, I’ve been thanking Gott you noticed as quickly as you did.”
A doctor came out the double doors. “Mr. Struder?”
Levy jumped up. “Ja, that’s me.”
She smiled reassuringly. “I want to let you know what we’re doing with little Mercy.”
Jane stood up too. “Will she be okay?”
“Very likely. It’s a good thing you brought her in right away. A baby’s body is less able to regulate temperature than an adult’s, so it can be more difficult for them to cool down during a fever. Their bodies are naturally warmer than an adult’s body because they are more metabolically active, which generates heat. Was she in the sun much today?”
“I had her outside,” confessed Jane, feeling miserable. “She was lying on a blanket on the grass, but it was fully in the shade all the time. A huge maple tree...”
“Then it’s not sunstroke. Don’t worry, having her in the shade outside didn’t cau
se this to happen, so don’t beat yourself up.”
“We were at a singing a few nights ago,” she recalled. “She was being passed around to a bunch of people who wanted to hold her. Could she have picked something up?”
“It’s hard to say at this point,” said the doctor. “By itself, a fever does not necessarily mean a serious illness. If the baby’s behavior is normal, they’re likely to be okay. But with infants this young, it’s best to err on the side of caution.”
“What will you test her for?” asked Levy.
“The biggest concern is meningitis,” replied the doctor. “It’s a bacterial infection of the membrane that covers the spinal cord and the brain. Untreated, it can be very serious. But if treated, recovery is almost always complete. I’m grateful you got her here as quick as you did. When babies get sick, they get sick fast.”
“How long will she have to be here?” asked Jane.
“Until we get the tests run.” The doctor looked at Levy. “You said you’re the baby’s legal guardian, yes? Where is the mother?”
“I don’t know.” Levy looked distressed. “I haven’t spoken to my sister in years.”
“So you don’t know your sister’s current medical condition?”
“No.”
The woman continued, “I hope I’m not scaring you. The good news is the vast majority of infants with fevers have mild infections like colds or stomach viruses that resolve in a few days without any problems. And the other good news is that even more serious infections are treatable. The earlier we start treating them, the better the chances the baby will be fine.”
“So now we just have to wait?” asked Jane.
“I’m afraid so.” The doctor looked sympathetic. “That’s the hardest part, I know. There’s a coffee shop just down the street if you’re hungry, but otherwise you can make yourself comfortable in the waiting room.”
After the doctor left, Levy looked at Jane. “Are you hungry?”
“I honestly haven’t stopped to think about it.”
Amish Baby Lessons Page 10
