Promise to Cherish (38 page)

“This is where I’ve been staying. Where Peter was born.” Christine opened the door. “Annie?” she called when they stepped into the cottage.

The older lady stood from the kitchen table with eyes widening by the moment when she saw Jack. A smile crossed over her face slowly. Christine made introductions and they shook hands.

“Annie’s been taking care of me—and Peter.” Christine’s voice was formal in her own ears. “Jack would like to see Peter. Would you mind pouring some lemonade or iced tea?”

Annie nodded and busied herself.

“Wait here,” Christine told Jack.

Christine went into her room and closed the door behind her. She sat on the bed and breathed slowly. In, then out—several times. Her hands clasped and she looked at the ceiling. Where could she begin in speaking to God? That Jack was the same cruel monster he was before and would leave her and Peter alone? Or that he really was a good man and wanted to be a family? And what about Eli? Where did he fit in? She’d refused his proposal but loved him regardless. Only without answers she lived in limbo.

Peter stayed asleep when she picked him up. She held him close to her chest and even in his rest he rooted at her breast. She giggled.

“Always hungry.”

His mouth went slack and he returned to deep sleep. She exhaled to calm her nerves and walked out of her bedroom.

“Is that him? Is that my son?”

Christine had never seen Jack nervous before. He was blinking excessively and he pushed a hand through his pomaded hair, something she’d never seen him do.

“This is Peter Nathaniel.” She nearly tacked on the words
your son
, but she couldn’t.

He looked at the baby and smiled.

“He’s got my eyes, right? But why did you name him Peter and why’s he wearing a dress?”

“The Amish put blue dresses on all their babies since they are much easier to sew than tiny pants for the boys. And it’s much more convenient when changing diapers.”

“But you’re not Amish, Christine, and neither is my son,” he said sharply.

“Jack—” she started.

“He does look like me, doesn’t he?” Jack smiled. “Can I hold him?”

Christine looked at Peter’s face then back at Jack. She nodded.

“Okay.” She handed Peter to Jack and swallowed down her tears.

“This is my son. I can’t believe it—I’m a father.”

The two of them were silent for several minutes. Jack gently bounced Peter and smiled when he grunted and squirmed. Jack looked up at Christine.

“We need to talk.”

The house rumbled in the booming thunder. It was like God set the thunder upon the clock of Eli’s frustration. Christine and Peter’s safety was all he could think about. The wind picked up outside and it began pouring. He had to go over there. Whatever Jack’s intentions, he didn’t like it.

He was drenched in minutes as he ran over to the cottage. He hadn’t finished the broken down lean-to, however, and hoped that what he had built was stable enough to resist the winds that were growing stronger. He held his flashlight with one hand and his other was formed in a fist and filled with his hate. He barely knocked as he pushed his way in. He was dripping everywhere. He hated making a mess for Annie.

Jack stood and stepped toward him when his and Eli’s eyes met.

“Where’s Christine?” Eli asked.

Jack nodded toward Christine’s room. “Putting our son to sleep.”

Eli stared at Jack. He wasn’t what he expected for Christine—all starched and angular. His eyes were analytical and unfriendly. He didn’t smile.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Eli asked Jack.

“What? You think you’re better than me?”

The muscles in Eli’s hand were painfully tight.

“Better for Christine and Peter. You better not touch her.”

Jack smirked when he eyed Eli’s clenched hands. “Well, aren’t you as hard-boiled as I’ve ever seen?”

“Listen, Jack, I don’t want any trouble. I just want Christine and Peter to be happy.” He knew he should’ve stepped back, but he didn’t.

“You don’t think I could make them happy?” Jack sniggered. “Is that what you’re saying,
Mr. Amishman
?”

“Don’t call me that.” Eli’s heart beat against his chest and it took every bit of self-restraint not to go at Jack with both fists.

“What’s happening in here?” Christine whispered loudly when she came out.

“You can’t be serious letting him see Peter and letting him sit down like he’s a welcomed guest in your home. He hurt you, Christine.”

“Is that what she told you?” Jack cackled. “Come on, Christine. Are you still spreading that story? Did you also tell him that you came to me after you found out you were knocked up and begged me to marry you? Even brought her mother with her.”

“What?” Eli’s brow furrowed when he looked at Christine.

“And you rejected me because you were already engaged to be married.”

“Just stay away from her,” Eli spoke through bared teeth.

“Don’t tell me to—”

“Listen!” Christine put a hand against Jack’s and Eli’s chests. “None of that matters now.”

“You’re right, Christine,” Jack said, his voice growing soft. He took the hand from his chest and held it. “It doesn’t matter now. I came here because I want us to be a family.”

“What? But you were . . .” She couldn’t finish her thought.

“Sabrina and I split up.” His eyes diverted from her, then
back again. “I came to say that I’m ready now. We can get married and raise our son.”

Christine stood stunned. Her mouth hung open, yet she could find nothing to say.

“I’m staying in a hotel in Dover. I’ll come back tomorrow night for your answer.” He bent down and kissed her cheek then he grabbed his coat and left.

Palpable silence filled the cottage. This wasn’t what she’d expected.

“Christy, what are you doing?” Eli whispered. “Please tell me that you’re not going to marry that creep. Have you forgotten how he hurt you?”

“He was drunk, Eli. Maybe he wasn’t himself.” The excuses were bitter in her mouth, but there was something about Jack that weakened her. “He’s Peter’s father, Eli. Don’t I owe it to my son to try?”

CHAPTER 32

W
here’s Aunt Annie?” Mark pushed himself through the door. He looked at Christine, ignoring Eli standing there. “Sylvia’s in labor and she’s scared. She needs Aunt Annie—and you, Christine.”

“What about Dr. Sherman?” Christine asked as she headed for the bedroom to gather Peter.

“The roads are flooded from the storm.”

“What? But Jack just left.”

“He won’t get far.” Mark shook his head.

“Let him go, Christine,” Eli said, still angry.

“Eli,
vachts uh
,” she spat back, telling him to grow up.

“I’m ready,” Annie interrupted the argument. She was already dressed and had her bag with her. “I suspected this might happen. Let’s go.”

In a few minutes Christine had Peter wrapped closely to her body, and she and Annie held an umbrella over them as they walked across the soaked field, with water up to their ankles. Mark ran ahead of them and Eli came from behind. When they arrived at the farmhouse Christine found Jack, who was staring out at the road from the covered porch. He
asked Christine politely if he could stay. Eli cringed. How could she let him stay?

“Eli, please ask your mother if she could keep him for the night.”

“But, Christine,” Eli said. This man was manipulating Christine. Why couldn’t she see that?

“Please, Eli.” He couldn’t say no to her.

He nodded and watched her run toward Mark and Sylvia’s house.

“You’re not going to push me out,” Jack said. “I’m going to raise my son.”

With the eyes of God watching him and His strength coursing through his veins, Eli listened to Christine and left Jack alone.

Sylvia was crying when Christine and Annie entered the house. Rachel, Sylvia’s sister who was tending to the twins, rushed to them and helped them with their umbrellas and coats. They both went straightaway to Sylvia’s room. She was laying in the fetal position on the bed. She cried out as another pain came and didn’t even notice they had walked into the room.

“All right, Sylvia, I want you up.” Annie winced with every movement. Her small but strong hands pulled Sylvia up into a sitting position.

“
Les mich geh
.” Sylvia pleaded to be left alone.

“Come on, Syl, you’re going to have a baby. Remember how you helped me. Now it’s my turn. Everything is going to be fine.”

Over the next several hours the two women served Sylvia’s every need and encouraged her to keep moving around. They made sure she was as comfortable as possible as she labored. Though she’d never helped a woman through labor or delivered a baby, it was more natural than any other nursing she’d ever done.

Sylvia repeated over several times that it was too early, and
Christine had to remind her that it wasn’t. Christine knew Sylvia’s last experience had traumatized her.

Annie said Sylvia was having one of the worst labors that she had seen in a long time. Annie’s knees were swollen and hurting from running over, and she could do nothing more than sit in the chair in the corner and instruct Christine on what to do.

After fourteen hours, Sylvia said she needed to push. Christine looked at Annie as Sylvia’s breathing sped up.

“Just like you knew when it was time, so does Sylvia,” Annie said, her eyes droopy with tiredness but she had a smile on her face. She pointed at the cloth on the dresser. “Under that towel are a few things you’re going to need. Tie off the cord with that small string and then cut it. But wait until the cord stops beating like a pulse. Wrap the baby up in that blanket and give him to Sylvia to nurse. Just like Peter. Everything is going to be fine.”

“I need to push,” Sylvia said again.

It seemed all it took was a few contractions and suddenly Christine held a slick-skinned baby boy in her hands. He was pink and chubby. She handed him to Sylvia first, who looked at Christine with elation and exhaustion.

“It’s a boy, Syl,” Christine said, laughing.

“A boy,” she whispered and smiled as she looked down at her baby who didn’t cry much but looked up at his mother.

“Davey, his name is Davey,” Sylvia said to Christine. “Davey and Peter are going to be best friends.”

Christine smiled at her friend. How was this going to be possible? Jack wanted to marry her, and if she did marry him she and Peter would have to leave Sunrise. But she would have a proper family. If she didn’t marry Jack, what would she do? She couldn’t stay in Sunrise forever. The only way Davey and Peter would be friends was if she stayed in Sunrise and married Eli.

Later that night a knock sounded. Christine opened the small cottage door and Jack stood there. He raised an eyebrow.

“Is that angry
Mr. Amishman
here again?” He cleared his throat. “Or will we be able to have a civil conversation?”

“Eli’s a good man, Jack.” She stepped aside to let him in. “He stood by me and helped me when you wouldn’t.”

Where had her courage come from?

“Are you always going to throw that in my face?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s Jack Junior?”

“Jack Junior?” Christine questioned.