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Maybe the same way he’d never noticed how pretty her smile was. He hadn’t been inclined to look closely. Until now.
As he crossed the ground between his house and Anne’s, he looked her property over with a critical eye. Some of the siding on her horse barn was loose and the paint was faded. It could use a new coat. The pile of manure outside the barn was overdue for spreading in the fields. Two of the vanes on her windmill clacked as they went around, proving they were loose, too.
He hadn’t noticed things were slipping into disrepair for her. He hadn’t been a very good neighbor. They were all things he could fix in a day or two. As soon as Fannie came for Leah, he would see to the repairs as a way to thank Anne for her kindness to the baby. It was the least he could do.
When Fannie came back.
She would be back. She was later than she’d said she would be, but he was sure she had a good reason. He just wished he knew what it was. Why hadn’t she contacted him? He’d checked the answering machine in the community phone booth out by the highway twice a day for the past two days. He knew she had that number.
Her whispered words, the memory of her tearful face in the car window had flashed into his mind when she didn’t return as promised. The pain and sorrow he had seen in her eyes gave rise to a new doubt in his mind. Had she abandoned her child with him? Each passing hour without word made him worry that she might have done so. It wasn’t right to suspect her of such a thing, but the doubts wouldn’t be silenced.
As always, his goats were happy to see him and frolicked in their pens as he approached. In spite of what Anne thought, his goats were all as tame as kittens. They came when he called them, with Matilda, the oldest female, leading all the others in a group behind her. He selected Jenny from the milling animals and opened the gate leading to his milking barn.
“Jenny, up you go.”
The brown-and-black doe knew the routine. She trotted up the ramp onto the waist-high platform and put her head in the stanchion. He gave her a handful of alfalfa hay and closed the bar that would keep her from pulling her head out if she was finished eating before he was finished milking her. He didn’t bother hooking her to his milking machine. His church allowed the limited use of electricity in some Amish businesses such as Joseph’s dairy. The electric milking machines and refrigeration allowed him to sell his milk as Grade A to Englisch customers for more money. Today he milked Jenny by hand. In less than five minutes, he had a frothing pailful of milk.
After giving Jenny a quick scratch behind the ear to let her know he was pleased, he opened the head lock and allowed her to rejoin the herd. Holding the pail high, he waded through the group of younger goats vying for his attention and went out the gate before making sure it was latched securely. They bleated until he was out of sight.
The sound of a car on the road caught his attention. He looked hopefully toward the end of his lane, but it was only the mailman. The white truck stopped at Joseph’s box.
Maybe there would be a letter from his sister explaining everything. He put down the pail and strode toward his mailbox at the end of the drive. He refused to think about how many times he’d made this trip praying to find a missive from her in the past. She didn’t have a baby then. She had to be concerned about her child.
The mail carrier drove away before Joseph reached him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t in the mood to visit with the talkative fellow. Opening his mailbox, Joseph pulled out a bundle of envelopes and flyers. Leafing through them, he found they were advertisements and junk mail until he reached the final envelope.
Immediately, he recognized his sister’s handwriting, although he hadn’t seen it in years. The letter was addressed to Joe Lapp. For some reason, she insisted on calling him Joe, when no one else did. Relieved, he tore open the letter and asked God’s forgiveness for doubting his sister. As he read, his relief turned to disbelief.
* * *
When Joseph entered Anne’s kitchen, he presented the pail of milk to her without a word. He had a strange dejected look on his face. Had one of his beloved goats kicked him? Knowing how much he’d been through, she decided not to tease him about it.
She gave him the baby to hold and took the pail to her stove. Their Amish church allowed members to use propane-powered appliances in the home. Her hot-water heater, refrigerator, washer, stove and some of her lighting all ran off propane.
Anne transferred the milk to a large kettle. “It will take a while to heat this through. She got fussy when you left, so I gave her some more electrolyte solution. I can bring the formula to your house when I’m finished.”
Anne glanced at him. He held Leah close, gazing intently at her face. He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and sniffed.
“Is something wrong, Joseph?”
“Nay.”
She could see that wasn’t true, but she didn’t press him. She glanced covertly at him as she went back to measuring and mixing ingredients together. She referred frequently to a paper on the counter beside her. Her mother had come up with a goat’s milk formula years earlier after consulting with a local doctor. Anne was grateful for her mother’s thorough record keeping. She added molasses to a glass measuring cup that held a small amount of coconut oil. It didn’t look appetizing. “Have you had breakfast, Joseph?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. You go ahead.”
She looked his way and noticed he was staring at her concoction. She grinned. “This isn’t breakfast, but I could make you some eggs. There is still some coffee in the pot, too.”
“Just the coffe sounds good. What is it that you’re making?”
“Formula.”
“I thought you were going to give her the goat’s milk.”
“I am. Goat’s milk is perfect for baby goats, but it is lacking some things that a human baby needs. I don’t have all the ingredients here, but if she tolerates this milk, I can give you a list of things you’ll have to buy.”
“Like what?”
“Liquid whey. Molasses or Grade B maple syrup. Cod liver oil and extra-virgin olive oil plus coconut oil and liquid vitamins. There are a few other things, as well.”
His frown deepened. “How often will I have to do all this?”
“Every other day at least. The milk needs to be fresh, but it can be kept refrigerated for two days. What I’m making now will last through today unless Leah can’t tolerate it. You said Fannie would be back today, didn’t you? Send her over when she comes to pick up the baby, and I’ll show her how it’s made.”
“You had best show me how to do it. I’ll be the one taking care of her from now on.”
Confused, Anne turned to him. “What about her mudder? Isn’t she coming? What’s happened?”
Chapter Four (#ulink_47dbff5e-6bc7-5719-8d8a-f32503e44f5c)
The anguish on Joseph’s face told Anne something was very wrong. She watched him struggle to compose himself. What had happened to his sister?
He sank onto one of her chairs and gazed at the baby for a long time. Finally, he whispered, “Your mudder is not coming.”
“She’s not coming today?” Anne waited for him to elaborate.
He shook his head. “She’s not coming back at all.”
Anne cupped a hand over her mouth as a horrible thought occurred to her. “She died?”
“Nay, but that would be easier to explain.”
“Please, Joseph, tell me what has happened.”
“Fannie lied to me.”
Anne took a seat beside him. “In what way did she lie?”
“When she left Leah with me, she said it would only be for a day or two. She deliberately lied to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
He pulled a letter from his coat pocket. “This came in the mail this morning. It’s from Fannie. I was happy when I saw it. I thought it would explain why she was late returning. Instead, she wrote that she didn’t have surgery. That was a lie she made up to get me to keep Leah. Fannie was going to New York City with Johnny. She said her baby was better off growing up in the country rather than in the city.”
“Oh, Joseph, I’m so sorry.” It was clear he was hurting and she didn’t know how to help.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. “What kind of mother would do that? I tried to raise my sister to be a God-fearing woman of faith, but I failed. I don’t know what I did wrong. I knew my duty. I kept us fed and together with a roof over our heads. I dried her tears. I took her to church. I made sure she said her prayers. Then she does this, and I think I never knew her at all.”
He put the letter away and adjusted the blanket so it wasn’t covering Leah’s mouth. “Why couldn’t she be happy among us? Is this life so terrible?”
Anne laid a hand on his arm. “We can’t know what is in another person’s mind or the reasons why they behave as they do, unless they share that with us.” Her heart ached for the pain he was going through. He had suffered a terrible betrayal of trust.
“How can I raise another child after I failed so miserably with my sister?”
Anne wished she could offer him the comfort he needed. She searched for the right words. “We do what we must. We depend on Gottes grace to see us through. Leah will be a blessing to you.”
He pressed his lips into a tight line and shook his head. “Nay. She will grow to hate me and abandon her faith as her mother has done.”
“You don’t know that.” He was upset, not thinking straight. Anne didn’t blame him. This was a terrible shock.
He surged to his feet. “I know I can’t raise a baby. I can’t! You know what to do. You take her! You raise her.” He thrust Leah toward her. The baby started crying.
Anne jumped out of her chair and backed against the counter as she held up both hands. “Don’t say that. She is your niece, your blood. You will find the strength you need to care for her.”
“She needs more than my strength. She needs a mother’s love. I can’t give her that. I couldn’t give Fannie that.”
Anne covered her eyes with her hands. He had no idea what he was offering. For years after she lost her son, she’d suffered a recurring dream. In it, she found a baby alone in some unlikely place. In the barn or out in the garden. She was always alone, and Anne rejoiced because she could keep the unwanted child. Yet every dream ended exactly the same way. The moment she had the baby in her arms, someone would take it from her. She woke aching with loss all over again.
Joseph had no idea what a precious gift he was trying to give away. He didn’t understand the grief he would feel when his panic subsided. She had to make him see that.
Lowering her hands, she stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. “I can help you, Joseph, but I can’t raise Leah for you. You’re upset. That’s understandable. Fannie has wounded you deeply, but she must have enormous faith in you. Think about it. She could have given her child to an Englisch couple or another Amish family. She didn’t. She wanted Leah to be raised by you, in our Amish ways. Don’t you see that?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You’re tired. You haven’t had much sleep in the past four days. If you truly feel you can’t raise Leah, you must go to Bishop Andy and seek his council. He will know what to do.”
“He will tell me it is my duty to raise her, just as the bishop before told me it was my duty to raise Fannie. Did you mean it when you said you would help me?” His voice held a desperate edge.
“Of course I meant it. Before you make any rash decisions, let’s see if we can get this fussy child to eat something. Nothing wears on the nerves faster than a crying bubbel that can’t be consoled.”
He needed a break. Anne could give him one. It was the least she could do. She took the baby from him.
He raked his hands through his thick blond hair again. “I must milk my herd and get them fed.”
“That’s fine, Joseph. Go and do what you must. Leah can stay with me until you’re done, but I have to get my pumpkins up to my stand before long. Customers will be arriving soon. It’s getting late.” It was nearly nine o’clock.
He stepped back and rubbed his hands on the sides of his pants. “I reckon I can take your load of pumpkins up to the roadway for you before I milk.”
“That would be wunderbar, Joseph. Danki. But I should warn you that the front wheel is loose and it wobbles.”
He gave her a wry smile. “So do your windmill blades. There are tools to fix those things.”
She leveled a hard stare at him. “Are they the same tools you could use to fix a fence so your goats don’t get out? What a pity neither one of us owns such wonders.”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I may have a few tools lying around somewhere. If you can get Leah to eat without throwing up, I’ll fix your wheelbarrow and your windmill.”
“I would do it without a bribe, but you have a deal.” At least he seemed calmer. The look of panic had left his eyes.
“Danki, Anne Stoltzfus. You have been a blessing. You have proven you are a good neighbor. Something I have not been to you.” He went out the door with hunched shoulders, as if he carried the weight of the world upon them.
Anne looked down at Leah. “He’d better come back for you. I know where he lives.”
The baby continued to fuss softly, trying to suck on her fingers, trying to catch anything to put in her mouth.
Anne shifted Leah to her hip, freeing one hand to finish mixing the formula, and went to her stove. When she was done with the milk and it had cooled enough, she poured some in a bottle mixed with her electrolyte solution and sat down in the rocker in her office. Leah latched on to the bottle but spat it out and fussed louder.
“Don’t be that way. I know it tastes different, but give it a chance.” Anne offered the bottle again. Leah began sucking, reluctantly at first, then with gusto. She managed to clasp the bottle in her tiny hands and pulled it closer, hanging on to it for dear life.
“Not so fast. You’ll make yourself sick.” Anne took the bottle away. A tiny scowl appeared on Leah’s face, reminding Anne of the one that normally marked Joseph’s brow. She had to smile. “You take after your mother’s side of the family.”
What a beautiful child she was. Anne sighed heavily. “It’s not that I don’t want you. You understand that, don’t you? To have a babe of my own, I would love that, but I have stopped thinking it is possible. I only met one man I wished to marry and he didn’t want to marry me. I’m not a spring chicken anymore. I’ll be thirty-four in June.”
Leah didn’t comment, but she was watching Anne intently.
Anne closed her eyes as she rocked the child. “I stopped having dreams about finding babies when I turned thirty. I’m not sure what my age had to do with it, but that’s when it stopped. Your poor mother. This had to be the most difficult decision of her life. She may yet change her mind and come back for you. I’ll pray for her. And for your onkel, who needs comfort, too.”
Only God knew if Leah would be better off with her mother or not. Either way, Joseph was going to need Anne’s support and the support of the entire community. He faced a difficult time and a hard choice. The person she needed to talk to was Naomi Beiler, the woman in charge of the local widows’ group. Naomi would know what to do and how to do it.
* * *
Joseph stood on Anne’s steps for a long time staring out at his yearling goats in the pasture across the fence. They moved slowly, grazing quietly, their white-and-brown coats contrasting sharply with the grassland. A few of the young ones frolicked briefly and a mock battle broke out between two young bucks. They butted heads a few times, but they soon stopped and went back to grazing. The sky overhead was clear, but Joseph’s mind was in a fog. He couldn’t make sense of what had happened. The letter sat like a stone in his pocket. He pulled it out and read it again, hoping for a different answer. It hadn’t changed. It still said Fannie wasn’t coming back for Leah.
He couldn’t accept that.
Fannie would change her mind. She couldn’t leave her babe without a thought, not the girl he knew. Not his sister. She would return. It was just a matter of time before she realized what a terrible mistake she’d made. He tucked the letter away again. What he had to do now was take care of Leah until then. He would find a way.
Anne’s wheelbarrow full of pumpkins sat off to the side of the porch. He grasped the handles and began pushing it up her lane. He almost dumped it once, but managed to right it in time. Her front wheel was more than a little crooked. When he reached her produce stand, he marveled at the assortment of vegetables, gourds and pumpkins that she had for sale. The vegetables and gourds were displayed in small bins. The pumpkins were lined up along the roadside. Tucked among the produce were pots of mums in a rainbow of colors. She had a green thumb, it seemed. He was unloading the wheelbarrow when a silver car pulled up beside him.
The window rolled down, and the woman driver spoke. “How much are the white pumpkins?”
He wanted to ignore her, but it wouldn’t be right to offend one of Anne’s customers. He looked around for a sign or price list but didn’t see one. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just delivering these. The woman who runs the place will be here shortly.”
“I can’t wait. What if I gave you twenty dollars for three of them? Would that be enough?”
If the woman drove away, Anne wouldn’t get anything. Hoping he was making the right decision, he nodded. “I reckon it would.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll take the three large ones in your wheelbarrow.” The trunk of her car lifted. She got out and offered him the bill. Joseph pocketed the money, loaded her pumpkins and then walked away quickly before he had to deal with anyone else.
His milking goats were lined up along the fence watching for him and bleating. They knew something was up. He was never this late with the milking. He waded through them and opened the gate that led to the milking parlor. The first dozen goats hurried through, and he shut the gate after them, stopping the rest. He could milk only twelve at a time. The others would have to wait their turn.
Inside the barn, the animals went up the waist-high ramp and followed each other to their places. He latched the stanchions around each of them and put their feed in the trays in front of them. When they were happily munching, he jumped down off the platform and moved to clean and dry the udder of each doe and attach the suction nozzles. As he did so, he examined each animal, looking for signs of injury or illness. When he was sure they were all sound, he turned on the machine and began the milking process. The milk flowed from the animals through clear plastic hoses to a collection tank that would keep the fresh milk refrigerated until a truck arrived and collected it three times a week. Joining a co-op of goat dairy farmers had allowed him to increase the size of his herd and have a steady market for his milk. He was almost at the point that he could afford to expand the herd again, but one man could only do so much.
Joseph went through his chores without really thinking about them. His mind was still focused on Fannie. How could she have left her baby? Why had she done it? Was a child that much of a hindrance to the career she wanted, or was there another reason she wanted him to keep Leah?
I’m desperate, Joe. She will be safe with you. I won’t worry about her for a single minute. Please. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s what’s best for her.
What did his sister’s words mean? Were they simply part of the lie she had concocted, or had she meant them? Shaking his head, he had to admit that his sister had become a stranger. He no longer knew what to believe.
Try as he might, he didn’t see a way he could care for Leah alone. Not while she was so little. He was out of the house from sunup to sunset most days. Even with electric milking machines, milking eighty goats twice a day took hours. Besides his goats, he had a small farm to run. Growing his own feed reduced his milk production costs and made sure his animals received the best nutrition possible. With winter approaching, he wouldn’t need to spend time in the fields, but this was when he caught up on equipment repairs and got ready for the spring kidding season. What would he do with the baby when he was out in the pastures all day and all night when the does were birthing? He couldn’t be in two places at once. It would be different if he had a full-time helper. Or a wife.
