The Amish Midwife's Hope Page 7

  Samuel shook his head. “She just over-tired herself with the move. I’m going to see what I can do to help when I drop Jacob off later.”

  The bride and groom took their seats at the eck, the corner of the table, and the meal was blessed. Lizzie wanted Rebecca to sit with her and her dat and Jacob, and she couldn’t think of any polite way to refuse. But she also didn’t want Samuel to think she was trying to use his dochder to get to him. They were seeing each other but both were keeping things casual.

  Unfortunately sitting with them came with a price. Abram the bishop gave them a speculative look as he passed with his plate of food piled high. His fraa beamed.

  Sarah Fisher passed by and frowned. Rebecca figured she wasn’t happy that Samuel was paying attention to her. But Sarah didn’t know it was Lizzie who was responsible for the seating arrangement.

  A few minutes later she looked up and Sarah Fisher was flirting with Zachariah Troyer.

  Ach, life was so interesting, she mused as she ate.

  * * *

  Samuel wondered if Rebecca felt the same reluctance he did attending weddings.

  The first wedding season after he’d lost Ruth had been the worst, of course. He had attended a few at the very end—and only those of his closest freunds—and no one had said anything to him. The second wedding season he’d managed more with a sense of detachment. But here in a new place, he felt obligated to start getting to know his neighborhood and become a part of the community. Surely a wedding was a better place to do that than a funeral.

  He poked at the unfamiliar dish on his plate.

  “It’s creamed celery,” Rebecca told him. “It’s kind of a traditional wedding dish here in Lancaster County. If you see a family growing a lot of it in a kitchen garden, it’s a hint that there may be an upcoming wedding.”

  “One of the women at the table insisted I should try it.” He sampled a bite.

  “And?”

  “It’s gut,” he managed. “Here, Lizzie—try some.”

  She shrank back. “Nee, danki, Daedi.”

  Samuel saw that Rebecca was struggling not to smile. “You can hide it under your napkin when you’re done eating,” she whispered.

  “Daedi always says we don’t waste food,” Lizzie said.

  Samuel rolled his eyes. “Interesting what you remember. Seems to me I found some broccoli under the table last week.”

  “Fell off my plate,” she said and gave him her best look of innocence.

  “Funny how the things you don’t like seem to end up there,” Samuel said thoughtfully.

  “I hate peas,” Jacob spoke up. “Hate them.”

  Lizzie nodded. “I know you do.”

  “They roll off a plate,” he told her as he stirred his mashed potatoes and gravy with his fork.

  Samuel gave him a look. Was that where Lizzie had learned how to get rid of broccoli?

  “Not if you mix them up with your mashed potatoes,” Rebecca spoke up. “See?” She demonstrated. “And then you don’t taste them as much, either.”

  Lizzie stared at her, fascinated.

  “Works for broccoli, too,” she said casually.

  Samuel wished he had something on his plate that would disguise the taste of limp celery in the pasty white sauce. When he looked up, he saw Rebecca patting her lips with her paper napkin. It called his attention to her lips…her really lovely, soft, rosy lips.

  The clink and clatter of silverware on plates, and the chatter of all those around them faded as he stared at them.

  “Daedi?”

  Lizzie’s voice broke through the fog. He dragged his gaze away from Rebecca’s tantalizing lips and focused on his dochder.

  “Ya?”

  “I said may Jacob and I go play?”

  “Schur.” He looked at Jacob’s plate. “You didn’t eat much.”

  “Not very hungerich. May I go outside with Lizzie?”

  Samuel nodded. “You can finish it later. We mustn’t waste food.”

  When he looked back at Rebecca, she was watching him with a quizzical expression.

  “What?”

  She blushed. “Nothing.” She picked up her fork and began eating again. “How is Lizzie doing in schul?”

  “Hmm?”

  “How is Lizzie doing in schul? Is she adjusting?”

  He nodded. “She loves it here. And she’s been really happy since Hannah and her family came.”

  “She seems quite fond of Jacob.”

  “They’ve always been close. But now I’m wondering about this vegetable thing.”

  She chuckled. “He had a bit of mischief in his eyes.” She looked up as a couple approached them. “Mervin, Bertha, meet Samuel Miller. He just moved here from Indiana with his dochder, Lizzie. Samuel, the Lapps own a furniture store in town.”

  Samuel stood and shook their hands. “I’ve been meaning to stop by now that we’re settled in. I did a lot of work for a furniture store back in Indiana.”

  “Stop by and let’s talk,” Mervin boomed. “I can always use a good furniture maker.”

  They chatted for a minute, then Bertha said they had to go sit with her dat and they’d try to see them later.

  They’d no sooner left and Samuel had sat down when a man stopped by their table.

  Rebecca smiled warmly at the newcomer. “Wayne, come, sit. Samuel, have you met Wayne Schrock?”

  He stood again and shook the man’s hand but noticed Wayne was looking at Rebecca, not at him. “Nee, nice to meet you.”

  “You, too,” the other man said, looking distracted.

  “Wayne, Samuel moved here from Indiana. He inherited Isaiah Miller’s farm.”

  Samuel sat and studied the man. He judged Wayne to be around the same age as him. He had blond hair and blue eyes and what Samuel supposed a maedel would call a charming way about him. He took a seat next to Rebecca.

  “That’s a pretty dress,” he told her. “Really brings out your eyes.”

  “Danki. Wayne, Samuel has been thinking about what to plant come spring. Perhaps you could help him? Our crops are a bit different than where he came from.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Shipshewana, Indiana.”

  “Schur, we can do that. Why don’t I stop by your farm on Monday?”

  “That would be great, danki.” Wayne turned his attention back to Rebecca.

  Was it Samuel’s imagination that the man was flirting with Rebecca? And why did that bother him?

  “Samuel’s schweschder just moved here with her family as well,” Rebecca told Wayne.

  “That’s nice,” Wayne said politely, before changing the subject. “Rebecca, are you coming to the next singing?”

  “You know I don’t attend them anymore. It’s something young singles do.”

  “You’re not old,” he told her.

  She shrugged. “It’s just not something I want to do.”

  “Well, maybe I can change your mind one of these days.” He looked deep into her eyes.

  Lizzie came running up to the table. She stared at Wayne for a long moment then walked over to Rebecca. “Could you please get me some cake?”

  “Schur,” she began. “Does Jacob want some, too?”

  “He’s outside with the boys.”

  “I can get the cake for you.” Samuel rose.

  “I want Rebecca to get it for me,” Lizzie said stubbornly and her chin lifted. “Please?”

  “It’s no trouble,” Rebecca assured him as she got up from her seat.

  Samuel saw his dochder slip her hand into Rebecca’s and as Lizzie walked away, she gave Wayne a smug look.

  What was that about? Samuel wondered. Lizzie had never behaved like that.

  He chatted with Wayne for a few minutes, then excused himself and walked over to the cake table. Lizzie was chattering away with Rebecca as she placed a slice of cake on a plate.

  Rebecca glanced up with a smile. “Samuel? Would you like some cake?”

  “Ya, danki.”

  She
handed him a plate and then frowned. She reached into her pocket for her cellphone. “I had it set on vibrate during the ceremony,” she explained. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” She hurried out of the room.

  “Let’s go eat our cake, Lizzie.”

  “I want to wait for Rebecca.”

  “We can wait at our table.”

  She followed him reluctantly and settled into the seat next to him. Wayne had left the table, and when Samuel glanced around the room, he saw him sitting next to Sadie King at another table. He was giving the maedel the same flirtatious look he’d given Rebecca.

  Rebecca rushed back a few minutes later. “I have to go. I have a patient in labor.”

  “But you didn’t get to eat your cake,” Lizzie protested.

  “It’s allrecht. Who knows? I may be back soon.” She glanced up at Samuel. “This patient’s had false labor once already this month.”

  “We’ll save you a piece of cake.”

  “Danki, Lizzie, that would be nice.”

  Samuel watched her rush from the room and was sorry to see her go. He’d been enjoying her company so much that even if they were getting curious glances from church members, he didn’t mind.

  Lizzie swirled the frosting on the cake with her fork. “Daedi? What’s false labor?”

  He gulped at the unexpected question from the ever-curious Lizzie. Men in his community just didn’t discuss matters about pregnancy. How he wished Rebecca was there now to answer such a question.

  Chapter Eight

  I’m so sorry you had to leave the wedding.”

  Rebecca removed the blood pressure cuff and patted Abigail’s arm. “This is more important.”

  Abigail winced as another contraction swept over her. Rebecca held her hand and timed it. The contractions were still ten minutes apart and not that strong. But she wasn’t going to tell Abigail she didn’t think the contractions were that strong. No laboring mudder needed to hear that. The contraction eased, and Abigail took a deep breath and tried to relax.

  “Besides, there will be plenty of weddings in the coming weeks,” Rebecca reminded her.

  “True. I noticed you sitting with that new man. Samuel?”

  “And his dochder, Lizzie.” She didn’t want Abigail assuming she was interested in Samuel. Neither of them needed the community wondering if they were having a relationship. Dating was personal and not something one talked about until an engagement was announced just before the fall weddings.

  “He’s handsome.”

  “You think so?”

  “Ya. I have eyes.” She tilted her head and studied Rebecca. “His dochder seems to like you.”

  “She misses her mudder. It’s hard for a kind to lose her mudder when she’s young.”

  “I can’t imagine not having mine.”

  “Me neither.”

  An hour passed without the contractions growing closer. Rebecca glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Thirteen minutes since the last contraction. Interesting. “Did you get to eat before you left?”

  Abigail shook her head. “I didn’t really feel like it. And now I’m schur I’m not allowed to eat.”

  “It’s best not to eat while you’re having contractions.” They watched the clock. Rebecca didn’t like how Abigail seemed more anxious as the minutes passed. Time to distract her.

  “Just think, this time last year you and Abe were getting married.”

  “Ya.” Abigail smiled.

  “Tell me what your favorite memory of that day is.”

  “The moment we were declared mann and fraa and looked at each other. I never thought I’d love someone so much.” Her expression turned dreamy.

  She placed her hand over Abigail’s on her abdomen. “You think at that moment that you can’t imagine feeling greater love than that. But just wait until this kind is born.”

  Abe walked into the room. “Hi, Rebecca. How are you doing, Abigail?”

  She stared at him, then gave Rebecca a baffled look. “The contractions have stopped.”

  “I don’t think you’re having the boppli today,” Rebecca finally admitted.

  Abigail rolled her eyes and blushed. “This is so embarrassing.”

  Rebecca patted her hand. “It’s quite common. I’d rather be called and not be needed than have you have the boppli on your own. You must promise to call me when contractions start again.”

  Abigail sighed. “I promise.”

  She looked up at Abe.

  “I’ll call you if she doesn’t,” Abe said. “I’m not delivering our boppli,” he said fervently.

  “Gut.” She pulled a list of instructions from her bag. “Here are some helpful hints about Braxton-Hicks. Read them over after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

  “You gave this to me before. I did read it.”

  “Just glance at it again. Sometimes it helps to read it a second time.” She picked up her bag and stood.

  “Help me up from this chair,” Abigail told Abe. “I’ll fix us something to eat.”

  “I can do that. We can have sandwiches or something. You need to rest.” He looked to Rebecca for support. “She needs to rest, doesn’t she?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Abe’s right.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of fixing something,” Abigail insisted. “Besides, you make such a mess in the kitchen.”

  Grinning, Rebecca left them to resolve it. She had the feeling Abigail was going to win this argument.

  As she climbed back into her buggy, she debated going home or returning to the wedding. She really wanted to go home. But as she picked up the reins, she remembered how she’d promised Lizzie she’d try to make it back if she could. Lizzie had said she’d save her a piece of cake.

  With a sigh she headed back to the wedding.

  The reception was still going strong when she arrived. People were milling about, laughing and talking. Kinner ran in and out of the house. The day might’ve been gray and cool outside, but inside joy filled the room like summer sunshine.

  “Rebecca!” Her mudder came out of the kitchen. “You’re back!”

  “Ya. Abigail had false labor. Again.”

  “I hope you get to enjoy the rest of the day without another emergency.”

  Rebecca shrugged. “I knew what I was getting into when I took on this job.”

  Her mother hugged her. “And I know you love every minute of it.” She helped Rebecca take off her jacket and bonnet. “I’ll put these in the other room. You go get yourself a cup of coffee and warm up.”

  “Danki, that sounds gut.”

  “And Rebecca?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Lizzie’s been watching the door ever since you left. I think that little girl likes you.”

  She and Samuel were seeing each other but kinner like Lizzie always expressed their feelings much more than adult men.

  And then she remembered the way he’d looked at her. The way he’d stared at her lips and made her blush. He’d seemed interested in her.

  She stopped at the beverage table, poured herself a cup of coffee, and added cream and sugar. She stood there stirring her drink, delaying walking over to the table where Lizzie and Samuel sat. Maybe it would be better if she found someplace else to sit. Uncertain, she took a sip, then another.

  “How are you doing today, Rebecca?”

  She turned and found Ruby, the bishop’s wife, beaming at her. “Fine. You?”

  “I love weddings,” Ruby said cheerfully as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Did I see you leave earlier?”

  Rebecca nodded. “A patient was having contractions but they stopped.”

  “Bopplin come when they want to come. I remember having false contractions with one of mine. I almost didn’t call the midwife the next time. Gut thing I did. The labor was real then and the midwife barely got there in time.”

  “I warned her she’s to call if she gets them again. I’d rather waste a trip than have her wait and not want to bother me then deliver before I get there.”
<
br />   Ruby patted her arm. “You do a gut job, Rebecca. Go sit down and enjoy the reception.”

  Rebecca knew she was procrastinating, yet she couldn’t seem to make her feet carry her over to the table where Lizzie and Samuel sat. It was silly to let the way some church members had given the three of them speculative glances at their sitting together concern her. But it had niggled a little at her. Dating was such a private matter. She wasn’t comfortable with curiosity by others.

  Enough, she told herself firmly. She wasn’t a coward. Taking a deep breath, she began walking toward them.

  And then Samuel looked up and their gazes locked. Such a handsome man. Such an adorable kind. She hurried toward them.

  * * *

  Samuel knew the exact moment that Lizzie spotted Rebecca because his dochder’s face suddenly lit up. When he turned, he saw Rebecca walking toward them. Her cheeks were pink from being out in the cold and she was wearing a different apron.

  “You came back!” Lizzie called out excitedly.

  She smiled at Lizzie. “I told you I would if I could.”

  “Did she have her boppli?”

  “Nee, the boppli decided it wasn’t time yet.”

  Samuel lifted his hands. “I tried to explain what false labor is after you left. Lizzie’s a very curious kind.”

  Rebecca chuckled. “I noticed. That’s a gut thing.”

  He gave her a wry look. “Most of the time.”

  Rebecca said hello to the others sitting at the table. After pleasantries were exchanged, everyone returned to their conversations. But not, Samuel noted, without some knowing glances being exchanged. Samuel wondered if he and Rebecca were being seen as a couple because they were sitting together.

  Lizzie held out a plate. “I saved you a piece of cake.”

  “Danki. That was very nice of you.” She sat and began to eat. “Mmm, it’s delicious.”

  “She knows. She had two pieces.” Samuel teased the young girl.

  “I ate all my vegetables, too. None of them went under the table.”

  “No peas rolled off your plate?”

  Lizzie giggled and shook her head. Samuel noticed his dochder glancing over at the dessert table. “Nee,” he said. “I don’t want to have to roll you home.”

  Rebecca looked up. “Excuse me?”