Jacob's Return (20 page)

Ruben made for the stairs. “A death, you mean.”

“If Esther dies, it will be my fault, Jacob,” Rachel whispered. “I don’t know how to deliver a baby.”

Simon came in, Aaron by the hand, and stopped short when he saw her in Jacob’s arms. She disengaged herself, and Jacob stepped back, waiting for Simon to say something.

But Simon’s face showed more sadness than anger, another indication he was changing.

Rachel lifted Aaron. “Give Momly a hug, will you, darling. I’m sad today.”

“Don’t cry, Momly,” Aaron said, patting her back, her kapp, her ear, trying hard to console her. “Momly sad,” he said searching for help from either his uncle or his father.

Simon’s look had hardened and Rachel wasn’t certain if it was her in Jacob’s arms or Aaron calling her Momly that did it. Could be either, or both.

Jacob turned to go back upstairs and Rachel missed his presence before he was out of sight.

Simon, his face a mask of caring, came to her. “Are you crying for your mother?” he asked. “She’s in a better place now, and suffering no longer.”

Rachel wondered if she would ever get over being startled when he acted like this. Attempting not to show discomfort when he drew near, she tried to respond openly as he approached. Glad Aaron came between them, she put a hand on Simon’s shoulder, touching him, yet holding him at bay. “I haven’t been able to think about Mom since this morning.” She looked away when she thought she’d cry, saw Jacob watching, then looked at the floor.

For years, she’d refused to let Simon see her cry. But this was different. She turned back to him. “I’m worried Esther will die because I don’t know what to do for her.”

“I’ll pray she is safely delivered. Remember, Rachel, it is not in your hands, but God’s. Do not raise yourself in importance to such a degree that you think you have dominion over life and death. To do so would be prideful.”

Rachel sighed inwardly, almost relieved to see the old Simon.

He hesitated before placing his arm around her, then Aaron put his arm around Simon’s neck pulling him in. They must make quite a family picture, Rachel thought, forcing herself not to pull from Simon’s embrace.

“I’ll worry about you, too, when your time comes,” her husband said.

“You will?”

He kissed her forehead for the second time that day. “Of course.”

Rachel was as skittish over this kiss as she had been at the cemetery. Simon’s sudden and unnatural concern bothered her in ways she could not name.

Jacob’s step startled them both. “I’ll take Aaron to the
daudyhaus
and keep him there. Simon you stay with Rachel.”

Prickles ran down Rachel’s back, heat invaded her limbs. She couldn’t do it. Not without Jacob. “No!”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. She touched his sleeve. “I need Jacob’s help, Simon.” She turned to Jacob. “You helped when the twins were born, didn’t you, Jacob?”

Jacob wondered what was happening here. He had told her that he wasn’t at the twins’ birth, but the look in her eyes was desperate, pleading. Was she frightened of Simon even now? “I can—”

“Then I need you here. You’ve got more experience delivering babies than I do.” She turned to Simon. “Please, will you take Aaron to your house and watch him?”

“It’s supposed to be our house, you know.”

Jacob’s fists ached to connect with Simon’s jaw for those words.

“I’ll take him,” Simon said on a sigh and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Esther will be fine.”

Jacob watched Simon close the door to his house and sighed with relief.

Ruben came down the stairs like a jackrabbit before a hound, Emma in his arms. “There’s blood.”

Rachel swayed and Jacob took her arm, as she leaned into him taking deep breaths. “Dammit, Ruben. You’re frightening Rachel.”

Ruben shook his head. “Sorry, Mudpie. But, I’m not going back. I’m leaving. There’s no reason for me to be here.”

“There is,” Jacob said. “A good one. And you’re holding her in your arms.”

Ruben took a deep breath.

“Aaron can’t be with Emma,” Jacob said. “So he won’t catch whatever she’s got. I need to help with Esther and I need you to take her to Datt’s and keep her there. Aaron is with Simon.”

“There’s cabbage water in the jar by the stove,” Rachel said. “If she drinks that, see if you can get her to eat some cornmeal mush or stewed crackers.”

“Do I look like a nursemaid?” Ruben groused.

Rachel kissed his cheek. “Thank you for taking care of her. Esther will be fine.”

That haunted look returned to Ruben’s eyes, but he carried Emma toward the
daudyhaus
nonetheless, a jar of cabbage water in his shaking hand. The last thing they heard was Emma calling him Boob.

Jacob climbed the stairs beside Rachel, unable to forget the sight of her and Simon embracing. He still didn’t trust his brother. But he should try, especially now, since Simon had given him reason. He’d been good with Aaron and just now he’d been better with Rachel.

But how long would it last?

Jacob worried that his jealousy colored his thinking. Should he go away and leave them be, or stay to protect Rachel?

He could howl in frustration.

But somebody else was howling right now. Esther. And he needed to set his mind to delivering this baby.

Rachel touched his arm. “I’m sorry I got you into this Jacob. I … I couldn’t do it without you.”

His frustration evaporated in the face of her need. “As it happened, a girl where Miriam worked went into labor and no one would help, so … since I’d delivered calves—”

“Why wouldn’t anyone help her?”

“Because she was a dance hall girl, Mudpie, like Miriam.”

“Was the baby all right?”

“He was noisy and healthy.”

“Oh, Jacob, I’m glad they had you.” Her face lit up. “I’m glad I have you. You
have
delivered a baby!”

“Come,” Jacob said. “Let’s go help Es.”

He sent Rache to make pads out of newspaper to put under Esther. He needed a pan for the afterbirth. Some string. She needed direction, someone to take over. And part of him needed her away for a bit, so he could overcome the part of him that wanted to snatch her up and never let her go.

Esther’s labor progressed at the speed of sap dripping from a maple tree. She called her dead husband’s name over and over, as if Daniel might hear and come for her. His name became her litany as her pains came close and strong.

Still no baby.

After two hours, she called Daniel less often.

Jacob shook his head, checking the baby’s progress. “Rachel, you stand here and see if you can see the head when it comes.”
If you’re up there, Daniel, we could use some help here
, Jacob thought, as they changed places.

“I’m afraid, Jacob,” Rachel said.

He gave them both courage by taking her into his arms for a minute. “You up to this? It’s not too much in your condition?”

“I need to help, so Es will be all right. I’ll watch, like you said. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to feel her stomach to see if I can tell if the baby’s bottom first. I might need to turn it.” As if he knew how. “You all right, Es?”

Her pasty-white face glistening with perspiration, eyes closed, she didn’t answer. He dabbed at the moisture, put a wet towel on her forehead. “You with me Es?”

She turned her head away. She was giving up. As Jacob ran his hand along her stomach, it hardened, rose, held, then lowered.

Esther’s moan was weak, her cry for Daniel weaker still.

Panic filled Rachel’s wide eyes. “Is it turned?”

He shook his head. “I wish to God I could tell.” The realization that this was how Miriam died hit Jacob hard. Had she called his name like Es was doing? Until she died?

Jacob held back the pain trying to take over his entire being for imagining it.

Miriam was lost to him, he reminded himself. Esther was not. And by God, he’d do better by Es. By God he would.

Filled with determination, Jacob placed his hands flat against the top of Esther’s belly. When the next contraction came, he pushed.

“Daniel!” Esther screamed.

Rachel’s smile dazzled. “I see the head! I see it … no, it’s gone.” Worry replaced happiness.

“That’s good. Let’s see if the baby can take over from here.” Jacob knelt by Esther and took her hand, kissed it. “Es, can you hear me? It’s me, Daniel.” He saw Rachel’s shock, ignored it.

Esther opened her eyes and turned her head as if it was almost too heavy. “You trying to spook me, Jacob?’

He let out his breath. “No, but I would have been, if you’d believed me. I would have pretended though, to get this baby born. Daniel’s with you. He’s watching and waiting. Don’t give up, Es. He left you a great gift. Just like Miriam did me.”

“I’m gonna be ...” A contraction took her and Esther flowed with it, better than she had been. That’s what she needed to keep doing, going with it, instead of away from it. She needed to care about life.

“Did you see the head that time, Mudpie?” he asked.

“For a minute.” Rachel nodded with relief.

“Good. We’re closer.”

“I’m gonna be like you,” Esther finished. “All alone to raise a child, with no-one to share the joy, or the worry. It must be lonely at times, Jacob ...” She went with another contraction.

“Push, Es.”

“I can’t, Jacob. I’m tired. Too tired. If God cared, he’d take us both to be with Daniel. It’s what I want.”

“Dammit, Esther!” Jacob shouted. “Push. For Daniel! For me.”

Esther reacted as if she’d been slapped, but when the next contraction came, she pushed with every bit of strength she could gather. And she screamed just as hard.

Rachel screamed, too, as the new life slipped into her hands. She cried and laughed holding up a bloody, bawling scrap of humanity. “It’s a boy, Es.”

“Daniel Jacob,” Esther said. “Because you made me do it, Jacob. I needed to do it for Daniel, like you said. For you, too.”

Rachel placed little Daniel Jacob in Esther’s arms, the cowl of birth still on him.

Esther touched her son’s cheek as he looked at her with wide, dark eyes. “He’s beautiful. I don’t know how I’ll raise him alone, but I’ll manage.” Esther smiled. “Guess I have to.”

Jacob nodded, clearing his throat of emotion. “Let me have him so Rachel can tie and cut the cord.”

Rachel squeaked. “Me? I can’t cut into this fleshy thing.” She touched the cord and pulled back. “It’s alive.”

“It won’t hurt him.”

“Don’t make me, Jacob. I need you to do it.”

She shouldn’t depend on him like this all the time. This was how she had always looked to him for support, for answers … for love. She had Simon to look to now … for everything.

Esther had no one. And she needed a father for her son, Jacob thought.

He needed a mother for his children and a wife for himself.

He could do now for Esther what he could not for Miriam.

He could atone.

And wouldn’t it be best, especially for Rachel and Simon, and the baby — for so many of them — if he started fresh?

Jacob tied the string around the cord then cut above it.

Rachel and Simon needed to make their marriage work. And he needed to let them.

He traded places with Rachel so he could take Esther’s hand and prepare her for discomfort. He told Rachel how to deliver the afterbirth, saw the surprised look on her face when it slid into the pan she held. “I’ll bury it later,” he said.

Ruben came rushing into the room his back to the bed. “Couldn’t one of you come and tell me what was happening? I was going out of my mind down there!”

“Where’s Emma?” Jacob asked.

Ruben did not turn toward him or the bed. “Your Datt’s got her, Jacob.” Ruben looked at the pan of afterbirth and turned white. He grabbed the bureau to keep himself from keeling over, but he almost lost the fight when he looked at the bloody baby Rachel was washing. “Esther?” he asked, voice atremble.

“Esther’s fine, Ruben,” Rachel said.

A few minutes passed before Ruben could look at Esther. “I’m glad you didn’t die, Es.”

“I wanted to.”

Ruben sat by the bed. “I know how that feels.”

“But Esther’s strong, Ruben, like all the Zook women. Special. And she’s worried about raising this baby alone. I think ...” Jacob looked from Esther to Rachel and thought his heart might break.

Both women questioned him with their looks.

He cleared his throat. Dear God, let me do the right thing. He sat on Esther’s bed and took her hand. “I’m glad you didn’t die too, Es. Feel better about being alive now?”

She nodded. “With such a beautiful baby, how could I not?”

“You did good,” Jacob said. “Daniel’s grinning down right now. Your mama, too.”

Silent tears slid down Esther’s face. She really was special. Beautiful too, in a different way from Rachel, and different again from Miriam. “Daniel and your mama wouldn’t want you to raise Daniel Jacob alone,” Jacob said, surprising her. “How about if you don’t have to?”

Rachel’s look nearly stole his resolve. She knew. She understood what he planned, and he couldn’t tell if she approved or not.

By the shock on Ruben’s face, he knew too.

Esther, it seemed, was the only one who did not. He kissed her hand. “How about if we raise him together, Es?”

Esther shook her head in confusion. “What?”

“You, me, Aaron, Emma and Daniel. A family Marry me, Esther.”

For a few silent beats, Jacob thought she might say no. Almost wished she would.

“All right, Jacob. I’ll marry you.”

Chapter 13

The Gutenberg by lamplight cast a bestial shadow across the barn floor. Six kerosene lamps placed on barrels, two atop a scarred old desk, yellowed the paper beneath Rachel’s hand to parchment.

A new editorial for tomorrow’s issue of the
Amish Chalkboard
was finished.

Midnight. A new day. A new beginning.

Esther and little Daniel slept peacefully after the ordeal of labor and birth. Emma was spending the night with Levi in the
daudyhaus
, Aaron with his Unkabear in the
kinderhaus
.