Abigail's New Hope (46 page)

But Abby had tonight to sit dreaming that her life would be long and fruitful, that her
kinner
would remain at this age forever, and the love she felt for Daniel would never ebb. Because if wealth could be measured by the number of life’s joyous moments, Abigail Graber was a rich woman indeed.

A
bby stepped onto a dew-damp porch and breathed in the frigid air. This wasn’t a crisp fall evening or the usual weather of autumn. It was downright cold for the third week of November. Tightening her wool cape around her shoulders, she picked her way gingerly down the stone walk to the barn. A thin coating of frost made for slow progress.

“It’s too early in the season for this nonsense,” she muttered under her breath, even while her heart expanded with joyful anticipation. A baby was on the way. Another one of God’s blessings was about to make his or her arrival. As usual, she sent up a short prayer for a safe, speedy delivery. The call from Isabel Taylor, the new midwife in the area, came ten minutes ago, just after she put on her soft flannel nightgown and slipped into bed, snug as a bug, as her
mamm
used to say. This would be her third assist on a home delivery since returning to work—once for Dr. Weller and twice for the licensed midwife. Isabel’s business card read “Serving Wayne County,” which she thought at the time would be no problem. After all, she owned a new four-wheel drive pickup capable of cutting through snowed-in driveways and traversing mud-rutted farm lanes. And it was appreciably faster than a horse and buggy. But true to Daniel’s predictions, the Amish birthrate and requests for fill-ins at the modern birthing center in Baltic had Isabel hopping like a cricket.

Daniel was leading the mare by her bridle by the time Abby reached the barn. “Don’t be driving her faster than a trot,” he cautioned. “These roads will be slick tonight. Nobody has the salt trucks ready this early in the year.” He smiled at her before turning his face up to study one low ominous cloud. “We’ll be lucky not to get snowed in by morning.”

As she looked too, a slice of moon peeked through an opening in the clouds. Beyond it, the starry sky looked infinitely, profoundly distant. She stepped up and took the reins for him. “Back to bed with you. Milking time will be here soon enough.”

She was halfway down the drive before she heard him call, “Let’s hope it’s a girl or a boy this time.”

And, as usual, she smiled.

About ninety minutes later, Abby turned up the lane of the expectant mother. Isabel’s shiny black truck sat close to the porch steps. Abby hefted her tote bag from the buggy and walked into a warm, cheery kitchen. Every kerosene lamp had been lit, three stove burners held a pot of simmering water, and on the fourth a saucepan simmered. Chicken soup? Maybe a hearty broth for the new mother.

Abby washed up at the sink and then entered the large bedroom, equally well illuminated.

“Hi, Abby,” sang Isabel. “You’re right on time for the fun part. You already know Sarah, and this will be her sixth child, so things are moving along quickly. She barely had time to finish knitting the socks and sweaters she’d started.”

“
Guder nachmittag
,” said Sarah in between panting breaths. “
Danki
for coming.” The woman’s contractions indicated the
boppli
would arrive within minutes, not hours, yet Sarah still managed a polite demeanor as though greeting a fellow district member at a quilting bee.

“Good evening to you. Looks like you and Isabel have this situation so well under control that I might as well sip tea in the kitchen and eat some of your cookies. Everyone raves about your snickerdoodles.”

Sarah laughed so hard her next contraction caught her breathlessly gasping for air. “You go on in and make yourself comfortable. Me and my newest youngin will be joining you shortly.”

And she wasn’t too far off with her approximation. Within fifteen minutes, Elijah joined his Amish community with squalling, lively enthusiasm. He wouldn’t remain their youngest district member for long, however. Three more arrivals were expected before Christmas. While Isabel delivered the afterbirth and tended to the mother, Abby washed the new baby at the sink and wrapped him snuggly in a receiving blanket. Sarah’s husband held the infant close to the woodstove while Abby went outside to bury the placenta.

This was her least favorite part of the job, but as the assistant, the chore fell to her. Behind the house, she spotted several kerosene lanterns close to the fence line and a tall, thin girl standing with shovel in hand. Sarah’s eldest daughter beckoned her with a wave. “I dug this earlier today, before the chill set in,” the girl said proudly. “Is it deep enough?”

Abby glanced down at a hole large enough for a small cow. “
Danki
,” Abby said, “This is a big help to me.”

“No trouble whatsoever.” The girl stood ready to finish the job.

When they completed the task, Abby turned back toward the house as tears rushed expectedly to her eyes. “And
danki
to You, Lord,” she whispered. She blinked them back as best she could as the first snow of the season drifted down on the peaceful, sleeping town of Shreve.

Catherine glanced at the steps once more as she gave the oatmeal a final stir. This was the third time she’d reheated it, and if Abby didn’t come down soon it would harden into a block of cement. Daniel and Isaiah had gone to cut more firewood in the hills. Snow before Christmas usually foretold a long, cold winter. Laura left to walk to school with a neighbor girl, while Jake had taken his building blocks to the front room after breakfast.

“Good morning,” Abby crowed, slipping her apron over her head.

“Finally! I thought you’d never get out of bed.” Catherine reached for a cup. “I’ll bet you can use some of this.” She filled it to the rim with strong hot coffee.

“
Danki
,” said Abby. “I didn’t get home until two o’clock this morning. Mrs. Yoder chose the middle of the night to deliver. I’m glad Isabel picked me up and brought me home. I certainly don’t like driving the buggy at night when it’s snowing.” She sipped her coffee and peered into the saucepan. “What’s that—wallpaper paste? You know
daed
will never let us have anything other than plain painted walls.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Catherine tried to scoop some into a bowl, but it refused to come off the serving spoon. “It wouldn’t be half as sticky if you hadn’t slept so late. I reheated it three times.” She whacked the spoon on the side of the bowl, yet still the oats wouldn’t dislodge.

Abby leaned over and kissed Catherine’s cheek. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I think I’ll have a bowl of cornflakes.”

Catherine nodded and set the pot aside to deal with later. “Maybe the sow won’t be so picky,” she said. “I received some news from home. A letter from
mamm
arrived yesterday while you were at the Yoders’.”

Abby settled into a chair with her cold cereal. “Is everyone well? You look upset.”

Catherine hadn’t wished to reveal her feelings. “Everyone is fine—no worries there, but I had wanted to stay here while Isaiah attends school in Kentucky.” She slumped into a chair.

“And you know we want you to stay. Does
mamm
need your help?”

“No, Meghan does.”

“Really? She is a nanny for some nice
Englischers
down the road. What could our little sister possibly need help with?”

“She has quit her nanny job. Apparently, the schoolteacher is in a family way and will not be returning to the classroom after Christmas.”

Abby’s brows lifted. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Meghan begged
daed
to appoint her as the replacement teacher, at least for the remainder of the school year.”

“That might not be a good idea.”

“She’s been working as the teacher’s assistant for a month to learn the job. Unfortunately, there are far more rambunctious boys in school than quiet, docile little girls, and it doesn’t look like Meghan will be able to handle them once she’s there alone.”

“And that’s where you come in?” Abby’s question was filled with compassion.

“
Jah
. Because I’m twenty-three and Meghan is only nineteen,
daed
wants me to be the head teacher. Meghan will be my assistant for the term in hopes of assuming the position next fall.”

Abby reached for Catherine’s hand. “This will be a trial by fire. Do you remember what Meghan was like as a student?”

“I’m trying to forget the time she locked her teacher in the outhouse.”

Abby bit her lower lip. “Hopefully, none of the current students have heard that story.”

“I had hoped to remain here, planning the addition and changes to the cabin during the year Isaiah is gone.” Catherine rose to her feet. “But because our sister needs me, home I will go. After all, with what I’ve learned about patience and forbearance, how much trouble can a room full of scholars be?” She walked to the stove for the pot of coffee, giving Abby a chance to stop laughing…and to start praying.

Being a mother, she knew
exactly
how much trouble a room full of
kinner
could be.

  
1. Well aware of her doctor’s advice, why would Ruth Fisher endanger her own life to give birth? Infertility is heartbreaking for all couples, but how is it uniquely tragic for an Amish woman?

  
2. What are some reasons why Nathan is initially reluctant to handle his newborn son?

  
3. Abby is stoic even while facing bail set at half a million dollars. What does she turn to during her incarceration?

  
4. Why is Daniel resentful of Catherine and reluctant to answer her questions regarding his cousin Isaiah?

  
5. Why is the Grabers’ Amish district in such a quandary about raising Abby’s bail?