The Widower (Amy's Story Book 3) Page 4

  Amy! Why aren’t you here? Do you think I can do this? Do you?

  Susie stretched her arms over her head and looked at him again. He smiled down at her. Sweet, sweet baby, who looked just like her mommy.

  Grace, I can do this. I can, and I will.

  And then, a gentle peace settled over him, filling him with assurance and love. He sucked in his breath, almost expecting to see Grace standing beside him. He felt her so strongly, it brought tears to his eyes.

  “She’s here,” he whispered to Susie. “Your mamm. She’s here. And she loves you.” His voice broke on his last words, and he bent to kiss Susie’s forehead. “She loves you.”

  He pushed through the screen door and went outside, sitting down on the porch swing. He began swinging slowly, and before he could even think about it, he started to sing. It was a favorite hymn of his, the words recounting the faithfulness of God. Susie seemed to like it, for she closed her eyes and was asleep within minutes.

  But Andrew kept singing. He sang until darkness fell and a chill filled the air. And then, he got up, went inside, and climbed the stairs to put Susie to bed.

  Chapter Seven

  Amy was a fool. A complete and certain fool. She stood at the end of Andrew’s drive, watching his house in the dark. She saw a light move inside as Andrew no doubt carried the lantern from the kitchen into the dining room. From where she stood, she couldn’t make him out. Just shadows and dim light.

  Was Susie already in bed? Was she sleeping? Had Andrew fed her? Was Mavis in there with them?

  She swallowed past the lump of tears in her throat. “Susie,” she whispered. “Susie, are you all right?”

  Ach, but what was she doing there? If someone drove by in a buggy, she’d have to dart into the bushes at the side of the road. And what would Peter think of her, lurking about in front of Andrew’s house? When she’d slipped out of her own house, she’d told herself she would go for a short stroll around the yard to get some fresh air. But she was kidding herself. She knew she would end up right here, forty minutes later, after walking in the dark for more than two miles.

  She pressed her hand to her mouth. What was she going to do with herself? She missed Susie so badly, it was a constant ache in her throat. And she worried about Andrew. How was he doing? Not only with Susie, but with Mavis.

  It’s not your business. It’s not your business. It’s not your business.

  She blinked back her tears and dashed back down the road, hoping she wouldn’t trip on anything in the dark.

  * * *

  When Bart finally came into the kitchen from outdoors, Mavis tapped her foot impatiently. “Bart, hurry up, would you? I want to get to Andrew’s right away.”

  Bart’s face was set in a grim line. He stepped closer to Mavis and reached out to touch her arm. She flinched.

  “What is it?” she asked, bracing herself. “What’s happened now?”

  Bart sighed. “I went to the phone shanty to check if we got any messages. There was one message … from Pennsylvania.”

  Mavis sucked in her breath. “What? What is it?”

  “Your mamm ain’t doing well. It was Widow Zook who made the call. Your mamm is down with a real bad cough. She won’t get up. She won’t eat much of anything. Widow Zook thinks you need to come.”

  Mavis stumbled backward and sank into a kitchen chair. “Nee,” she whispered.

  “It don’t sound gut, Mavis. I think we better go back. Or you, at least.”

  Mavis shook her head. “I can’t go. I can’t, Bart.” She gave him a desperate look. “I’ve got to watch Susie.”

  “This is your mamm, Mavis.”

  “I know that. But Susie is Grace’s daughter. She’s my kinskind. I can’t leave her. Not now.”

  Bart took a deep breath and sat down beside Mavis. “Mavis, I understand that, but how are you going to feel if your mamm … if your mamm dies and you aren’t there? If no one is there and she dies alone?”

  “Grace died, and I wasn’t here,” Mavis choked out.

  “Because you didn’t know.” Bart sighed heavily. “But we do know this.”

  Mavis jumped up and began pacing the room. “I can’t leave Susie. I won’t leave her, Bart.”

  Bart just looked at her. Mavis hated it when he did that—looked at her like that. As if he knew he was right and was simply waiting for her to come around.

  “I’ll take her,” Mavis said. “I’ll take Susie with me.”

  “Andrew will never agree to it.”

  “He’ll have to. He ain’t got much choice, now, has he? And I won’t be gone any longer than I absolutely have to be. Jah. That’s the answer. I’ll take her with me. And then Mamm can meet her, too. In fact, that will probably perk Mamm right up.” Mavis’s heart beat rapidly with the very thought of it. This was the perfect solution.

  “I’m telling you, Mavis, Andrew won’t—”

  “Whose side are you on?” she snapped.

  “Are there sides? I didn’t realize,” Bart said, his eyes narrowing.

  Mavis scowled. “Stop doing that, would you? Acting so righteous.”

  “I ain’t trying to act righteous, Mavis. I’m just wondering if you hear yourself.”

  Mavis stopped pacing and stared at him. “I can’t do it, Bart. I can’t leave the boppli. I already failed Grace by not being here when she died and Susie was born. I ain’t failing her again.”

  Bart stood and put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. “You didn’t fail Grace. Not in the least. You couldn’t have done anything different.”

  Mavis was weeping now, and her tears soaked into Bart’s shirt. “Why did she climb that ladder, Bart? Why? What was she thinking? She should have been more careful. She should have—”

  “Nee,” Bart said, squeezing her. “That’s enough of that. That kind of talk don’t do any of us any gut at all. She did it. It’s done. We’ve got to make the best of it now.”

  Mavis pulled away from him. “I’m taking Susie with me,” she said. “Otherwise, I ain’t going.”

  Bart sighed again. “Let’s go see Andrew.”

  * * *

  Andrew rubbed his eyes. How was it possible to wake up more tired than when he went to bed? Susie had fussed repeatedly during the night, and he’d done everything he could to comfort her. Finally, he’d just sat up with her, rocking her gently in the rocking chair in the nursery. She had gone to sleep in his arms, but he was afraid to put her back in her cradle. He’d tried that earlier in the night, and it hadn’t worked. So, he just sat up with her while she slept. He was careful not to go to sleep himself, as he didn’t want to drop her.

  He figured it was around three-thirty or four in the morning when he’d finally dared put her down in the cradle again to get a couple hours of sleep himself.

  He hoped he wouldn’t fall asleep in the middle of his fields that day.

  He didn’t blame Susie. Poor thing. She was being tossed to and fro repeatedly. If only he could just get Amy back and give Susie some stability. He blew out his breath. He was going to have to give that stability to Susie himself. Things should settle down now. He believed he got his wishes across to Mavis, and he felt somewhat certain that Bart would back him up.

  Susie would get used to her new regimen.

  He heard a buggy outside, not surprised that Bart and Mavis would show up so early.

  “Your mammi and daadi are here,” he told Susie. “But don’t you fret. We’ll see each other again this afternoon. And you and me … we’ll get used to our nights together.”

  The screen door squawked, and Mavis came in, Bart at her heels.

  “Gut morning,” Andrew said, then went silent. Mavis looked awful.

  “Andrew,” Bart said.

  “We need to talk,” Mavis said and walked right over to him and plucked Susie from his arms. “I’ve heard from Pennsylvania.”

  Andrew frowned. “Not bad news, I hope.”

  Mavis raised her chin. “It was bad news. My mamm ain’t doing we
ll. She’s taken to her bed with a cough and won’t eat. I need to go tend her.”

  “Ach, I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll be taking Susie with me.” Mavis didn’t blink an eye.

  “What?” Andrew said.

  “You heard me. It’s the best thing for the child. She’ll be with me. She’s used to me now and if I leave suddenly, it’s going to be confusing.”

  “Nee,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “Nee.”

  “I know you’ll miss her. That’s natural. But I also know you’ll do what’s best for her. And right now, being with me, her mammi, is best.”

  Andrew was stunned. He looked at Bart who was standing there silently, shaking his head.

  Andrew stepped to Mavis and took Susie from her. She held on tightly, and for a split second, he thought they would end of playing tug-of-war with the child. But Mavis relented, letting Susie go.

  “She ain’t going to Pennsylvania, Mavis. I appreciate your offer and your concern. But she belongs with her dat. Me.”

  “And what will you do with her all day long? And don’t tell me you’re thinking of asking Amy Yoder back here. That wouldn’t be right.”

  “Amy wouldn’t have to spend the night. She could watch Susie during the day. And Susie knows her.”

  Mavis’s eyes filled with tears. “It ain’t right. And Susie needs to meet her grosmammi before it’s too late. This is her chance.”

  “Nee, Mavis.” Andrew didn’t know how he could make it clearer. He had already lost Grace. He certainly wasn’t going to lose Susie.

  “You’re not thinking of the boppli,” Mavis cried. “You’re being selfish. She’ll do better with me.”

  “Maybe so,” Andrew said, his voice firm. “But she’s staying here. I’m not having her lose both her parents.”

  The tears were running down Mavis’s cheeks now. “Bart,” she said, her voice shaking. “Tell him. It’s best for Susie to be with me.”

  “He’s her father, Mavis.”

  Red splotches covered Mavis’s face. She gave Bart a ferocious look and stormed out of the house. Andrew felt suddenly weak, as if he might collapse right there with Susie in his arms. He quickly moved to a chair and fell into it.

  “I’m sorry, Andrew,” Bart said softly. “She’s in such pain right now. She’ll come around.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Bart. Truly.”

  “I’ll take her home now. Do you want us to take Susie today? I can’t get transportation for Mavis until tomorrow, so Susie would be fine with us right now. I can make sure she comes back this afternoon.”

  “Are you going to Pennsylvania, too?”

  Bart shook his head. “Don’t see how I can. What with harvest coming up. Mavis will have to go alone.”

  Andrew felt a sudden compassion for his mother-in-law. “Will she be all right?”

  “She’s strong,” Bart said. “So, what about Susie today?”

  “Nee,” Andrew said, tightening his grip on his daughter. “I’ll watch her. But thanks, Bart.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said and left the house.

  Andrew sat as if he were carved in stone. His mind circled what had just happened. He was sorry for Mavis; he truly was. But there was no way in the world Susie was going with her. If he let her go, he might never get her back. It was a terrifying thought. Maybe he was being dramatic, but after watching Mavis for the last few days, he didn’t think so. Mavis was out of control.

  He used to get along with her fine. But then, he’d never really crossed her before. Susie stirred and opened her eyes. She stared into his, unblinking. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  “It’s you and me, daughter,” he whispered.

  He swallowed and stood up. He needed to get the breakfast dishes washed and put away. He needed to tend the animals. Could the animals wait until Susie went down for a nap? The dishes could certainly wait. His mind went to the pile of laundry overflowing the basket upstairs. He also intended to start using cloth diapers. Grace had made plenty, and they were still neatly stacked in the nursery. But how could he keep up with that?

  He’d have to keep buying disposable. Wasted money, Grace had announced before the baby was born. But that was then, and this was now.

  He shook his head. Wasted money or not, there was no way he could keep up with washing cloth diapers. No way. He thought about the work he needed to do in the fields and glanced back down at Susie.

  “How will I manage?” he asked her. She gurgled and started sucking on her fist. He laughed. “I need Amy back,” he said. “I need Amy.”

  Chapter Eight

  “So, how’s it going with your fiancé?” Beulah asked Amy as they washed and dried the breakfast dishes.

  “Fine.”

  Beulah laughed. “Again with the fine.”

  “What would you have me say?”

  “Nothing. Fine, it is.”

  “He’s leaving tomorrow.”

  Beulah turned off the tap. “So soon?”

  “To go up north.”

  “I heard him tell you, remember?”

  Amy sighed. “His family needs the money.”

  “Does he know yet for how long?”

  “He’s still not sure.”

  Beulah made a face. “I’m sorry, Amy. Truly.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Did you tell Mamm about the postponed wedding?”

  “I told both Mamm and Dat this morning.”

  “What did they say?”

  “What could they say? Mamm just told me that she’s happy to have me here for another year.”

  “It’s more than a year, Amy. How are you feeling about it these days?”

  How did she feel about it? She was scared—that was how she felt. Scared that if she and Peter didn’t marry this November, something would go wrong. The fear had been growing in her every hour since Peter had given her the news.

  “I’m fine,” she told Beulah.

  “Oh, for goodness sakes,” Beulah cried. “How do you really feel, Amy?”

  Tears sprang to Amy’s eyes. She couldn’t tell her sister she was scared. Beulah would stretch it all out of proportion and start making all sorts of assumptions again. She blinked hard, trying to stop her tears, but it didn’t work.

  “Ach, Amy,” Beulah said, more softly now. “I’m sorry. You wanted to marry him right away, didn’t you?”

  Amy nodded and wiped at her tears. “It’ll just take longer is all.”

  Beulah didn’t answer. She just narrowed her eyes and seemed to be focusing on nothing at all.

  “What?” Amy asked.

  Beulah shook her head. “Nothing. I don’t want you mad at me again.”

  Amy didn’t push; she already knew what Beulah was thinking.

  But she did say, “This has nothing to do with Susie or Andrew.”

  “Of course, it doesn’t,” Beulah said tartly and turned the tap back on.

  * * *

  The animals were seen to. Andrew had dashed outside to take care of them while Susie slept. But he could hardly go all the way out to the fields, leaving Susie in the house alone. At times like this, he dearly wished phones were allowed. He could call Amy right up and ask if she could come over and help him immediately.

  As it was, he would have to walk to the shanty, make the call, and hope she checked the messages in the phone shanty closest to her house. Or he could write her a letter, which wouldn’t get to her until tomorrow or the next day. Or he could try to hold Susie while he drove the pony cart to Amy’s house.

  He sighed. He supposed he could put Susie in a box in the cart and drive with her over to the Yoders’ place. That would work. He had an apple box sitting right in the wash room. He could line it with blankets and go on over.

  He listened for any sounds from Susie, who was still in her cradle upstairs. He heard nothing and went to the wash room. He emptied the apple box of dirty boots. But it was already afternoon. He should probably wait until the next day. Or should he go that afternoon? That way
Amy could show up early in the morning, and he could go right out to his work.

  He’d pay her. This would have to be a formal type of arrangement. She’d balked when he’d offered to pay her before. But he wouldn’t take no this time. He’d pay her and then the whole district could look on it as a real position for Amy. He let out his breath and felt his relief just thinking about Amy being back with him. She would make things better. It was likely too soon to hope for things being good, but she would make them better.

  Mavis would be furious with him. Well, he couldn’t help it. He needed help, and Amy was the logical choice. After Susie woke up, he’d go over and ask her. Dear, dear God, please let her say yes.

  Chapter Nine

  “Amy?” Beulah called up the stairs.

  Amy stopped scrubbing the bathroom sink. “What is it?” she called back.

  “Can you come down here?”

  Amy sighed and dropped her sponge in the sink. She wiped her hands down her apron and went to the steps. Beulah met her halfway up.

  “It’s Bart,” she said. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Bart?” Amy’s eyes widened. “What does he want?”

  Beulah shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out.”

  Amy hurried down the steps and saw Bart in the entry way, fingering the brim of his straw hat which he held in front of his chest.

  “Amy,” he said and smiled.

  “Gut afternoon, Bart. What can I do for you?”

  “Can we talk outside? On the porch?”

  Amy licked her lips, suddenly nervous. Had Mavis sent him to warn her off Susie or Andrew? Why else would he be there?

  “Of course,” she said and led the way outside. “Would you like to sit? How about some lemonade?”

  He shook his head. “Nee. This will be quick. I would be speaking with your dat, but I don’t want to bother him out in the fields.”