Love's Abundant Harvest (24 page)

“
Mamm
!” As much as her
mamm
stuck to the rules, she seemed to feel obliged to share
her opinion even after a person was deceased. When Lucy stopped to think about it,
she knew her
mamm
might be right, that Sam wouldn't have been truly prepared to care
for a wife and two babies. The thought took her breath away, and she said a word
of thanksgiving for putting Manny into her life.

“How blessed these two little ones will be with you and so many others.” Her face
contorted, and she suddenly seemed to be caught up in her thoughts. “
Ach
, how I wish
I could be here to see them.” Her face relaxed as if with a new thought. “And I'm
still praying for a redhead.”

“You can't pray for such things,” Lucy said, more quickly than she meant to. Maybe
the trivial was still worthy of a short prayer once in a while. After all,
Gott
had
a hand in the tiniest of things, even the birds in the trees.

“Prayers are a gift we have to communicate with the Lord. Unlike during the four
hundred years of silence the Bible tells us of, we are able to commune with Him every
second of the day, if we so choose.”
Mamm
's strength came from her strong faith—the
one thing about her
mamm
Lucy wished she had. But along with that came an air of
legalism that Lucy resented. Lucy felt she didn't need to answer to anyone but God.
Even the deacons in their community had to earn her respect through their
relationship
with the Lord before she felt she could trust and obey them.

Lucy chuckled. It wasn't in her Amish upbringing to go against the deacons or bishop,
but when it came to her and Manny getting married, she might stand for what she deemed
necessary.

“You don't agree?”
Mamm
asked, frowning.

“
Jah
, I believe you've taught me more than one lesson within the last couple of minutes.”
It was a thought that started running around her head, sparking more thoughts and
then still more.

Mamm
grinned and held up the two little dresses she'd made and ironed. “What do you
think of these?”

“What if I have a boy?” Lucy giggled. “Do you want him to wear one or are you going
to be sensible and make some fine pants just in case?”

“Hmm, I suppose for good measure, but I can't say you'll be needing them.”
Mamm
took
another approving look at the darling dresses and sat down to fish out more fabric.

“Do you need me for anything here?” Lucy was already grabbing a light jacket when
her
mamm
looked up at her with her bifocals at the tip of her nose.

“Where are you going?” She looked ages older with the glasses she wore only when
she had a needle in her hand.

“To see Rosy. I won't be long” She took one step out the door then poked her head
back in. “
Danke, Mamm
.”

Mamm
shrugged, either indifferent about what Lucy was thanking her for or merely
distracted. With that, Lucy set her sights on finding Rosy. She was the only one
of the three women she hadn't talked with yet about how things were.

The walk to the barn behind
Mammi
's
haus
was short,
but Lucy was tired after just
a few steps. She felt better when she was walking or moving around, but she lost
her energy quickly, and her mind was pinging with thought. Of the three women she
so admired, Rosy was the most like Lucy. She wanted to ask Rosy why she had never
married.

The ladies were finishing up their quilting and rearranging the barn back to order.
Lucy found it too difficult to sit and quilt. Her legs cramped, and the chairs seemed
harder, so she preferred to watch or work in the
haus
. She studied the half-finished
quilt they were working on and found the autumn colors calming.

“These colors are as beautiful as the leaves on the trees outside. When will it be
done?” she asked.

Mammi
was bent over, picking up scraps and putting them in a bag. Every single piece
was saved, nothing thrown away. “
Ach
, Lucy. I know how you like these fall colors.”

“How are you, Luce?” Rosy put a gentle hand on her belly. “I usually get a kick out
of one of them. Maybe both, for that matter.”

“Still can't believe I'm having two.” Lucy knew she would have help from Manny, but
the others didn't, and now, for some reason, she wanted to wait. Her conversation
with her
mamm
was encouraging, but she felt some hesitation. It was as if something
wasn't complete or finished yet, though what it was, she couldn't say. Sometimes
she feared that she wasn't truly meant to be a
mamm
. But then how did anyone know
until it became real?

“How did you know there are two?” an elderly Amish woman asked with a frown. “Only
twins I know about is after they come out.”

“A doctor checked on me, Martha.” The less information the better. Some—especially
the older Amish—didn't find anyone but a midwife acceptable for such a private event.

Bertha grunted, and a couple others looked over, listening to the conversation.
“Why in the world would you have an outsider looking you over?” She moved closer,
and some stared.

“I didn't ask him to come.” Lucy didn't want to tell them who set up the visit, but
she couldn't lie either.

“So Fannie did.” The way the older woman said Fannie's name brought up the heat in
Lucy's cheeks.

“It doesn't matter who. It was a kind gesture. Even though I didn't know he was coming
. . . ” She marshaled her courage, glad Fannie wasn't there to hear this, but also
because Fannie wouldn't even let the conversation go as long as it had. “I'm glad
he did.”

Some of them shook their heads, and one put a hand to her heart. Others were indifferent.
But it seemed this woman wasn't going to let up. Lucy stood tall, and Rosy took her
by the hand. “I believe we did good work here today. Let's enjoy our evening.” With
that, they picked up Rosy's bag and started for the barn door, but Lucy stopped her.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Rosy stopped and looked in her eyes. “She tends to complain about a lot of things,
Luce. Don't get upset about her.”

“It's not that. I know what she's like, and I understand her concern. Things keep
changing, and most her age don't like it.” Lucy looked over her shoulder to make
sure they wouldn't be heard. “It might not be my business to ask, but I was wondering
why you never married.” She waited a moment to see how Rosy responded.

Rosy pursed her lips and looked down at her boots. “I don't mind telling you, but
why do you ask?” She put her hands behind her back and kept her eyes downward.

“It seems to me that women who don't have a chance to find something for themselves
end up wishing they did.”

She shook her head. “
Nee
, I didn't marry because I was so shy, I'd never even look
a man in the eye, let alone go courting. I thought for years I'd missed out on what
every good, sensible woman wanted—to be married.”

“But you don't feel that way now?”

“
Nee
, not so much. There are times I do, like now, seeing you with babies coming
and knowing Manny will be there for you.”

Lucy paused. “That's what I'm wondering about. I hope it doesn't become a burden
for him. They aren't his children to bear the burden for.”

They were both quiet for a long moment. “There's only one way to find out.”

“What's that?”

“Ask him.”

M
anny's palms began to sweat. He'd not had much reason to have a serious talk with
Bishop Atlee since Glenda passed away, and that seemed like a long time ago now.
The bishop was unpredictable and always seemed irritated, but there was no backing
out now. He could only hope the bishop was in a favorable mood.

When he did have a sudden loss of courage, all Manny had to do was start thinking
of Verna, and he was back on track. She wanted to go to the bishop, but Manny had
stood up to her for the first time. Lucy had been as surprised as Verna was. Maybe
he was ready now, taking the lead with Lucy and the baby.

He stopped and grinned, realizing he'd thought
baby
instead of
babies
. He was still
getting over the fact there would be two, but after waiting and wanting a baby for
so long with Glenda and all the heartache that had caused, he couldn't complain.
He would be very blessed to have two little ones. But would that thought last? He
didn't exactly expect to have a complete family before getting married again, and
such a short time after Glenda's death.

As he drove down the dirt path to the bishop's, a fleeting thought made him pause.
Anxiety poked at him as he thought about the responsibility before him, but it was
more than that. He felt the same concern coming from Lucy. He knew she was probably
going through a flurry of
emotions due to her pregnancy and the many changes that
had happened over the last few months.

When he finally arrived at the bishop's house, he took in a long breath and knocked
on the door. When the bishop opened it, he immediately put a finger to his lips and
shushed Manny.

“The wife is asleep—headaches. She gets migraines, especially this time of day.”
He pulled at his long salt- and-pepper beard and although he gestured for Manny to
come in, Manny felt like an intruder. The bishop seemed to lack the typical Amish
hospitality, but Manny was prepared for it after their previous encounters.

“What's on your mind, son?” the bishop asked as he walked one step ahead of Manny.
The
haus
was dark, with old wood floors and a banister leading through the dimness
to a large upstairs, as Manny had been told. The counters were brown Formica, and
the furniture was tan. The large windows were covered with heavy, dark cloth. Manny
figured that was due to the wife's headaches.

They walked into the office, which smelled of mothballs combined with a musty scent.
The bishop motioned for Manny to have a seat in front of his desk.

As soon as both men were seated, Manny told the bishop, “I thought I should share
my situation with you, as you will need to be involved. It's just a formality, and
I don't want to take up too much of your time.”

“Spit it out, son.” The bishop laid his sun-blotched hands on the desk before him.
Manny noticed his drooping eyelids and the overlapping wrinkles on his face and
down to his neck. He didn't know how old the man was, but he had an idea he was younger
than he looked.

Manny took another long breath. The bishop wanted it out there, so he delivered.
“I've asked Lucy to marry me.”

The bishop frowned and stared. “Go on.”

Manny wasn't surprised that the bishop wanted to hear more and was expecting him
to tell him what was protocol.

“What do you suggest?” Manny waited a moment, and then realized he wasn't going to
get a response, so he spoke again. “What is appropriate?”

Bishop moved from side to side as if uncomfortable in his own britches as well as
his chair. “That you wait.”

Taken aback, Manny didn't want to be deterred but knew the Amish ways, and going
against the bishop wasn't one of them, even in this case. “Lucy and I don't want
to take any steps that you don't approve of.” Manny didn't know what else to say
to a man who didn't seem to care as to what he and Lucy should do or what Manny's
opinion was. Manny was doing what was expected of him, but felt he was bothering
the man.

“Take some time; it's a big decision.”

One side of his cheeks lifted ever so slightly. Manny wasn't sure if it was a twitch
or an attempt to smile.

“But if it were me, I would be discreet.”

“We'd like to marry before the babies come. We thought it only right for them to
be born with the Keim name to them.” That was the one thing both he and Lucy had
agreed was the most important. But as soon as Manny made this comment, the bishop
lifted his brows.

“You plan to have your widowed fiancée standing at the altar blatantly with child?”

He grunted, or maybe it was a growl. Either way, Manny tried to be respectful.

“
Nee
, it would be a private ceremony.” Having family
there was important to Lucy,
but it was more important to marry before the babies were born. They wanted to do
it as possible in accord with the bishop's demands, whatever they were.

The bishop nodded and seemed to relax, resting his hands palms down on the desk,
which had pin marks and divots covering its surface. “Have you gone to Minister Eben
yet?”