Authors: Marta Perry
“I can’t.” He unwound his muffler, revealing a young, frightened face. “Sarah, you must komm, schnell. It’s Molly. She says she’s in labor, and Aaron and Nathan are away, and I can’t get through to anyone to help.”
“You have a phone in the shop, don’t you?” Aunt Emma guided him close to the stove.
“Ja, but the lines must be down. Please, you must help.”
“I’ll try our phone.” Sarah grabbed her coat, silent prayers on lips.
Please, dear Father, be with Molly now.
The instant she stepped onto the porch, the wind caught her, whipping her skirt around her legs. She fought her way along the house, one hand against its sturdy wooden planks, until she reached the phone shanty.
Inside, she was sheltered from the wind with Aaron’s workmanship strong and protective around her. She picked up the receiver, breath going out in a sigh of relief when she heard a dial tone.
It took three tries before the 911 operator answered, and even then, she was not encouraging. Half the county was snowbound, it seemed, and traffic at a standstill. She would alert the closest paramedics, but it might be hours before they could clear a way through.
Trying to think, Sarah fought her way back to the house. Benjamin lunged up from the chair Aunt Emma had probably forced him into. “Did you get them? Is it all right?”
“They will komm when they can, but the roads—” She gestured helplessly.
“Then you must.” Benjamin started wrapping the muffler around his face again. “Hurry, Sarah. She’s all alone.”
Sarah looked at Aunt Emma, but it was the lawyer’s voice that rang in her head. If she did this, she could go to jail. But if she didn’t—
“I must go.”
“Ja.” Aunt Emma nodded, conviction filling her face. “I will come, too.”
Sarah shook her head. “If I get into trouble for delivering Molly’s baby, someone must still be here to take care of things.”
She could see that sink in. Finally Aunt Emma seemed to give in. “I will get your bag. And you must not try to walk. I still have the old sleigh, and Dolly is trained to pull it. You’ll stand a better chance of getting through that way.”
Sarah glanced at Benjamin. Aunt Emma was right. That was their best chance.
“I’ll go hitch up,” Benjamin said. Grabbing his mittens, he banged out the door.
Sarah checked her bag, trying to calm her mind as she considered what she might need. Black cohosh for a stalled labor, shepherd’s purse for hemorrhage, motherwort to calm the nerves, raspberry-leaf tea to help with the labor . . . all the remedies she had were there.
Aunt Emma tied a scarf around Sarah’s neck, tucking it in, and then paused, her hand on Sarah’s cheek. “Maybe the paramedics will get there before the baby. Maybe you’ll just have to keep Molly calm and comfortable.”
“Maybe.” She breathed a silent prayer. “But I will do what I must. No matter the consequences.”
“You will do what is right.” Aunt Emma held Sarah’s face in both hands. “I’m sorry if I doubted you, my Sarah. When I said that I would not have gone to Dr. Mitchell for the Englisch woman—it was my own cowardice that would have stopped me.”
“No—”
“Ja,” she said firmly. “But we must always do what we know is right, no matter what the cost.” She pulled Sarah into a quick, strong hug. “Da Herr sei mitt du.”
The Lord be with you. They would need that, all of them.
Sarah
followed Benjamin outside, turning her face away from the wind, thankful for the protection of her bonnet. Snow still fell so heavily that the shoulders of her coat were white by the time she reached the sleigh.
Dolly seemed energized by the snow. She tossed her head as if she were a filly again, eager to move. Sarah climbed in next to Benjamin, and they slid off down the lane.
Sarah tucked the blanket over their laps. The sleigh was totally open, without the protection an enclosed buggy would provide. Snow blew into her face, and the wind seemed to find every chink in the heavy clothes she wore. Benjamin must be half-frozen.
But when she looked at him, she detected a bit of a smile in his eyes. “Never drove a sleigh before,” he said, maybe in explanation.
Sarah patted his hand. “Me, neither. It would be fun if we weren’t so worried about Molly.”
“Ja.” He clucked to Dolly, urging her into a trot when they reached the surface of the road. “The snow’s packed down a little on the road. Maybe we can make better time.” He was still for a moment. “Will Molly be all right?” His voice cracked a little on the question.
“Molly is a strong, healthy young woman. Having a baby is a natural thing, you know. Women were having babies without even midwives for generations.”
“I know.” His lips pressed together, eyes narrowed against the snow. “But they weren’t my sister.”
“You love Molly,” she said gently. “It’s natural to worry, but she and her boppli are in God’s hands, and He loves them, too.”
“My mammi died.” The words burst out of him. “I lived, but my mammi died.”
That was it, of course. Aaron might think he could protect his siblings, but by not telling Benjamin the truth, he’d left the boy open to imagine the worst—to think that he was somehow responsible.
Sarah breathed a silent prayer for guidance. “What happened with your mammi was very unusual. In all the hundreds of babies Aunt Emma has delivered, that was the only time something like that went wrong.” She hesitated, trying to find a way to comfort him without betraying any secrets. “Aunt Emma said that when you came, so strong and healthy, your mamm was so happy. She held you, talked to you, told you she loved you.”
Aunt Emma hadn’t provided details, but Sarah knew, anyway. Every baby she’d delivered had been greeted that way.
“I always thought . . . was afraid . . . that it was my fault.” His voice choked. “That maybe Emma had to choose between saving me or saving my mamm.”
“Ach, why would you think such a thing?” She shook his arm gently. “That’s just not so. It was only afterward that something went wrong.” She didn’t want to give him details, fearing that would only make him worry more about Molly. “Just you remember that your mammi loved you. And loves you still.”
Dolly slowed, unable to go faster despite Benjamin’s urging. The snow lay deeper here, blowing across the road in a never-ending curtain of white.
Sarah glanced at Benjamin’s face. He looked thoughtful, but at least not so agonized as he had a moment ago.
“Did Molly tell you how far apart her pains were?”
“Ach, ja, I was supposed to tell you. Fifteen minutes, she said.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. First babies can take a long time getting here. We should have plenty of time for the paramedics.”
If they could make it at all, she added silently. They’d have to have a plow to lead the way, bad as it was.
“Move on, Dolly,” Benjamin called to the horse. “Almost there now, and I’ll have a fine warm place for you in our barn.”
“There’s your mailbox,” Sarah said, relief flooding her. They were almost there. “Why is Aaron not at home?”
“He and Nathan went to town this morning to do some work for Bishop Mose. He’d never have gone if he’d thought the snow would get so bad.”
“No, I’m sure he wouldn’t.” As protective as Aaron was, Molly had probably had to urge him to go. “Well, maybe by the time Aaron gets home, he’ll have a brand-new niece or nephew.”
“Ja.” Benjamin grinned, probably thinking he’d score off his brothers if he were the first to meet the new arrival.
They pulled up to the back door. Grabbing her bag, Sarah clambered out of the sleigh. “I’ll go check on Molly while you settle Dolly. Give her an extra scoop of oats for this.”
She hurried to the back door, prayers rising.
Molly turned from the sink, relief filling her face. “Sarah. Thank the gut Lord you are here. I was so scared when the contractions started and only Benjamin was here.” She reached out a hand, and Sarah clasped it reassuringly.
“No need to worry. No need at all.” Sarah shrugged out of her wet, heavy coat. “I’m here, and the paramedics will come as soon as they can get through.”
“But what if they can’t make it?” Fear edged Molly’s voice. “If you deliver my baby, they might put you in jail.”
“If, if,” Sarah chided. She guided Molly to a seat and opened her bag. “Let’s not worry so much about what might happen. All you need to know is that you and the boppli are safe.”
“Ja.” Molly’s tension eased visibly. “You are here. I knew Benjamin wouldn’t let me down.”
She was remembering her father, letting her mother down when her life was at stake. Sarah could think of nothing to say that would erase that memory from Molly’s mind.
She checked Molly quickly. Just as she put the stethoscope down, a contraction hit. She glanced at the clock, automatically timing it.
“I didn’t want to have the boppli here.” Molly gasped through the contraction. “He’ll remember—”
“Don’t talk. Just breathe.”
Aaron would remember the day his mammi died. But this was a different day. Molly would be fine. Sarah had to believe that. Molly was in God’s hands.
And if she had to deliver Molly’s baby, and the police came to arrest her because of it? Well, she would be in God’s hands then, too.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A
aron’s
breath was coming in short gasps as he and Nathan finally started up the lane to the house. It took an effort just to pick up one foot and put it in front of the other. He glanced at his brother, and Nathan managed a grin.
“A long, cold way from the crossroads,” he said.
“Ja.” A very long way when you were slogging through snow above your boot tops. “Glad we’re home.”
Nathan, shielding his eyes from the driving snow, looked toward the barn. “Whose cutter is that, pulled up by the barn door?”
Apprehension snaked along Aaron’s spine as he focused on the sleigh. “Emma’s the only one I know who has a sleigh like that.”
It could mean nothing. Maybe Emma had offered it to Benjamin to take a joy ride in the snow.
Or maybe not. He forced his feet into a trot, made it to the back porch, and lunged through the door.
Benjamin, standing at the stove, spun around at his entrance, relief spreading across his face. “Aaron! It is ser gut you are home.”
“What’s happening? Molly?” He yanked off his mittens and coat. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs. It’s all right. Sarah is with her.”
Aaron bent, pulling off his boots and scattering snow across the clean kitchen floor. He’d clean it up as soon as he saw for himself that Molly was fine.
“We saw the cutter. Sarah drove over?”
Benjamin was already shaking his head. “Molly is in labor. I had to go for Sarah.”
Aaron could only stare at him. “You should have called the paramedics. Why didn’t you—”
“I did.”
Aaron barely heard Benjamin’s protest as he bolted toward the stairs. Molly in labor, and he hadn’t been here. And Benjamin had gotten Sarah instead of calling for help.
He rushed into the room. Molly sat in the rocking chair, Sarah beside her. His sister looked up and smiled when she saw him.
“Ach, I heard all that noise downstairs and knew it was you,” Molly said.
He went to her, kneeling and taking her hand. “Benjamin said . . . is the baby really coming?”
“Definitely.” Her hand tightened on his, and she gasped. She leaned forward, and Sarah began stroking her back.
“Breathe, remember.” Her voice was soft. “Count the seconds. It will be over soon.”
Soon. It seemed an eternity before Molly leaned back again. She let out a whoosh of air. “They’re getting stronger.”
Sarah nodded. “Gut. That’s what we want.”
“No.” Aaron didn’t realize he’d spoken until the word was out. He stood. “This isn’t right. Benjamin should have called nine-one-one. Why didn’t he?”
“He tried.” Sarah stood, too, facing him. “Please, Aaron, just calm down. Your shop phone must have been knocked out by the snow. So Benjamin walked over to get me.”
His hands clenched. That telephone . . . might know it would go out the first time it was really needed.
“I’ll check it again. Maybe . . .”
“There’s no need. I called and asked them to send the rescue squad. They’ll be here as soon as they can get through. In the meantime, I will help Molly. There’s nothing else to be done.”
He looked down at his little sister to find her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Aaron doesn’t want to hear that there’s nothing for him to do, ain’t so?”
“But . . . if we could get someone with a snowmobile. I think Jack Tyler has one. I’ll go to his place.”
“Jack Tyler is two miles from here. By the time you got there, it would be too late.” Sarah’s face was sympathetic, but her voice was firm.
“And if you think I’m getting on a snowmobile in this condition, you’re ferhoodled,” Molly said, her voice sharpening. She gave a little gasp. “Sarah—”
“It’s all right.” All Sarah’s attention went immediately back to Molly. “You’re doing fine, just fine. It’s hard work, having a baby. He or she will be here soon.” Her voice soothed, coaxed, calmed Molly through the pain.
When she finally leaned back again, Aaron could turn his attention to the problem. “There’s really nothing I can do? I still think—”
Sarah stood, took his arm, and guided him firmly out of the room. Once they’d reached the hall, she let go.
“Why did you do that? I was just asking—”
“Molly needs you to be strong just now. Strong and calm. Not firing questions at her.” She patted his arm as if he were a child in need of comforting.
It should make him mad. Instead, it made him smile. “I guess I am being a little crazy. That’s my little sister in there. I knew how to help her with broken dolls and bumped knees. I don’t know how to do this.”
“Molly is fine. Believe it or not, women do know how to have babies.”
“But you.” He closed his hand over hers. “You are risking everything by being here. If the paramedics don’t get here in time, if you—”
She put her hand gently over his lips to stop him. “Don’t. I’ve already been through that with Molly. If they don’t come, I will deliver her baby. The rest is in God’s hands.” She drew her hand away. “Now I must go back to Molly. And you should go and reassure your brothers.”
He nodded. “Benjamin . . .”
“Benjamin did exactly what had to be done to take care of Molly.” She hesitated, and he could see that there was more she had to say. “He talked a little. Aaron, Benjamin fears that he is responsible for your mamm’s dying.”
A hard hand seemed to close over his heart. “No. He can’t.”
“He does. I tried to reassure him, but he needs to hear it from you. Aaron, he needs to hear the truth.”
He was still shaking his head when Molly called out, and Sarah turned and went back into the room.
She couldn’t be right. That was all he could think as he went back down the stairs. Surely, if Benjamin felt that way, he’d have confided in his big brother. Wouldn’t he?
Nathan and Benjamin both looked at him as he entered the kitchen, an identical question in their faces.
“Molly?” Nathan said. “Is she all right? Is it true, what Benj says?”
“Ja, she is all right. She’s fine, even teasing a little between . . . when she’s resting. Sarah is taking gut care of her.”
Nathan grinned, bouncing back quickly as he always did. “We’re going to have a little niece or nephew today. I wonder what she’ll call him. Or her. Do you think she wants anything?” He turned as if to go up the stairs.
“Don’t disturb them now.” The words came out more sharply than he meant, and he regretted it. He didn’t want to infect the others with his own fear. “We could all stand to eat something, and Molly will need a light meal once the baby comes. Why don’t you get two or three quarts of that chicken noodle soup Rachel Zook made and heat it up?”
“Ja, right, that would taste great.” Nathan spun and headed for the basement steps and the shelves where extra canned goods were stored when the pantry was full. “I’ll bring up the clean sheets that are hanging in the basement. They should be dry by now, and Sarah might need them.”
Nathan was all right. But Benjamin—their little brother still looked at Aaron with fear in his eyes. And that meant Sarah was right. Aaron had been trying to protect Benjamin, but he’d just caused more trouble.
“She really is fine.” He went to Benj, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “And you did exactly right, going to Sarah, taking care of Molly that way.” He ruffled his hair. “Mammi would be proud of you.”
Nathan stumped back up the stairs, his arms filled with quart jars. “Don’t give him a swelled head,” he said. He grinned at his little brother. “I have to admit it, though. You took care of things.”
“I hope.” Benjamin’s blue eyes were still shadowed though. “Mammi—you said she’d be proud of me. Sarah said she loved me. But if I hadn’t been born, maybe she’d still be here.”
“That’s not so.” Aaron tilted the boy’s chin up so that Benjamin met his eyes. “I’m telling you the truth, now. It’s not on account of you that Mammi died.”
Sarah was right. The truth was needed. He looked from one to the other.
“You’d better both hear this, so you’ll understand. After you were born, Benjamin, something went wrong. Emma knew right away that Mammi had to go to the hospital, and she sent Daad to get help. But he never made it. He was drunk, and he never got help. And that’s the truth.” He took a breath, feeling as if he hadn’t inhaled in a long while.
Nathan was frowning, shaking his head a little. “Why didn’t you ever tell us before?”
“I didn’t know. The only ones who knew were Emma and the neighbor who found him, maybe Bishop Mose, too. They thought it would only hurt us to hear it. Maybe they were right then, but now . . . well, we’re all grown. We deserve to know the truth.”
“Poor Mammi.” Nathan’s eyes filled with tears. “And poor Daadi, too, knowing he failed her.”
Aaron grasped his shoulder. “You have a gut heart, Nathan.”
“That’s why you were so upset about the beer,” Benjamin said. “It wondered me why you got so angry. You were afraid I’m like Daadi.” Benjamin looked up, eyes wide and frightened. “What if I am?”
Aaron hugged him close, his heart expanding with love. “We know the answer to that already. When a crisis came, you kept your head and did the right thing in a difficult situation. You’re not like Daadi. You’re turning into exactly the kind of man Mammi would want you to be.”
Benjamin leaned his head against Aaron’s shoulder, just as he had when he’d been a toddler, leaning on his big brother, and Aaron could feel the relief that went through him.
“That’s not so hard,” he said. “I just thought what you would do, and I did it.”
A
glance out the window told Sarah that the snow still fell heavily, darkening the day. Hours had gone by, and there’d been no sign of the paramedics.
Sarah had checked the baby periodically with the fetal stethoscope and been reassured each time. Molly’s brothers had been in and out, bringing soup, tea, encouragement. Molly had spent most of her time either walking slowly or rocking in the rocking chair through the contractions.
Molly turned her head restlessly against the chair back in the aftermath of a contraction. “It’s hard.”
“Ja, it is. The hardest work you’ll ever do.” Sarah took Molly’s arm. “Let’s move you to the bed for a bit. Maybe you’ll be more comfortable there.”
Molly nodded, and together they crossed the few feet to the bed. Sarah arranged pillows around her. “Some women find it easiest to rest on their side between contractions, supported by pillows. Why don’t we try that?”
Molly had slept in this bed as a child, had looked out the window at the old oak tree now covered with snow. She would be gaining comfort and reassurance from the surroundings, far different from an impersonal hospital room.
Once Molly was settled, Sarah massaged in a small, steady circle on Molly’s lower back. Sarah’s hand and arm had begun to ache from the constant movement, but the massage eased Molly’s discomfort.
“That’s right. Let your body do the work. Think about the contraction opening a door to let your baby into the world.”
“What if I’m not doing this right? What if I’m too tired?” Molly’s voice caught on a note of self-doubt.
Sarah had heard it so many times—the doubt that crept in when the goal was nearly reached. Every first-time mother seemed to hit that point.
“You’re doing wonderful gut, Molly. Just exactly right.” She picked up the cup of raspberry tea Nathan had brewed at her direction and held it to Molly’s lips. “Drink a little more of this. It will help with the contractions.”
“The contractions are so fast.” Molly sipped and then caught her breath as another one grew.
“Breathe, Molly, breathe easy.” Sarah set the tea aside. “Feel yourself float right up to the top of the contraction. Just go with it and picture your baby pushing his way out into the world.” Some women seemed helped by that image, so she always used it.
Molly nodded, but her eyes were round with apprehension. She was tiring, her concentration slipping. Sarah couldn’t let her focus on fear, or labor would turn from exhausting work to pain.
“Why don’t we call Aaron in to help?” She knew all the reasons why that wasn’t wise, and one compelling reason why it was. Molly needed someone to lean on right now. Her husband couldn’t be here, but her big brother could.
“He shouldn’t . . . He can’t . . .” Molly was obviously thinking of all those reasons against bringing Aaron into the room. Then she bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. “I need Aaron. Tell him. Tell him I need my big brother.”
Sarah went quickly to the door. She could hear movement downstairs and knew that Aaron wouldn’t be far away.
“Aaron, Molly wants you with her. Will you komm?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She knew already what it would be. Aaron would never deny his siblings what they needed out of his own fear. That was the kind of man he was—strong, reliable, self-sacrificing.
By the time she’d returned to Molly, Aaron was there, hurrying into the room, his face drawn. “Molly? Are you all right?”
“Molly’s fine,” Sarah said. She touched his arm, willing him to take his cue from her. “But it will soon be time for her to push, and she needs someone strong to lean on. She needs her big brother.”
Deftly she rearranged the pillows, spreading a sheet over Molly and easing her into a better position for pushing.
“Now, you will sit against the headboard here, and Molly will lean back against you.” She looked up, her gaze meeting his, and nodded in reassurance. “It’s all right. You can do this.”
He didn’t answer. He just slid into the position she’d indicated, letting Molly rest against him.
Denke, Father.
She coached Molly, talking gently, calmly, encouraging her on with the job. All her focus had to be on Molly and the baby as Molly moved into the next stage of labor. She was just as wrapped up in the task as Molly was.
“You’re going to push this baby out now. He or she is ready to come. Just take a breath when the contraction starts and push down.”
Molly nodded. She clutched Aaron’s arms and pushed.
“Gut, gut job.” Sarah massaged with oil, easing the passageway for the baby.
Intent as she was, she couldn’t help glancing at Aaron now and then. She saw the moment when the fear began to fade from his eyes. Soon he picked up on her words, speaking to Molly in a gentle, encouraging way.