The Amish Nanny (37 page)

“Like who?” Christy pressed.

“Well, Leah Fisher came over and stayed with them last night. Tonight I think it's your grandmother, and then Sally after that. If this ends up taking longer than we thought, there's also Ezra, Ella, maybe Leah again…”

As he went on, I couldn't help but think that it sounded as though Leah Fisher had an active role in his life. Closing my eyes, I could almost imagine how the whole thing had played out. I thought of Will leaving a message for her, asking for her help. I imagined how pleased she would have been to spend the night at his house. Of course, he wasn't there when she did, but still I bristled.

Last night, once the twins were asleep, had she gone into his bedroom, perhaps even slept in his bed? This morning, had she stood at his stove cooking for his children and told herself it was only a matter of time until it was her stove, her children?

Stop it
, I scolded myself silently, opening my eyes. How Leah and Will conducted themselves both before and after their engagement was their business, not mine.

I realized Christy was telling Will all about Amielbach and Giselle's cottage. Then she told him about the ship and the train. As she talked, I reprimanded myself again for even caring about someone else's relationship. It really wasn't my business. I needed to be happy for them, not always sulking about what obviously wasn't meant to be for me. After a while Christy stopped talking and soon fell fast asleep, curled tightly against her
daed
.

“She hasn't been this talkative in months,” Will said to me in a soft voice.

“She's done better than I thought she would with Alice ill,” I said. I didn't add that Christy finally seemed to accept me once she really needed me. It would be interesting to see how she responded to me now that Will was here. Later, I would have to tell him about our conversation regarding Lydia—or at least give him the gist of it so he could understand the feelings of guilt his daughter had been carrying.

Other than the soft music playing on the radio, we rode in silence. Daniel had put on a pair of white gloves and was reading the letters with the help of a flashlight, but he wasn't saying anything. His yellow hair was bright even in the darkness.

“How is Giselle?” Will asked, his voice low.

“Good,” I said. “She was with Alice for the first part of the day.”

“I'll stay at the hospital tonight.”

“That's too much, Will,” I said. “You'll be tired after your trip.”

“I slept on the plane. I'll be all right.”

I told him Christy and I had spent last night at Giselle's. “They're expecting you at Amielbach.”

He said he'd figure it out in the morning and thanked me, again, for taking care of Christy. He pulled her closer. “I'm hoping we'll all be back together soon, and the twins won't be much out of sorts with me being gone.”

After that neither one of us spoke. Will leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Morgan maneuvered the car around a curve, and Will and Christy scooted toward me a little. His hand, which was on Christy's arm, brushed against my shoulder. I shivered. As Morgan came out of the curve, Will and Christy scooted the other way.

“How are you doing back there?” Morgan's voice was low and soothing.

“
Gut
. I mean good,” I answered.

Then I must have fallen asleep too, because I startled when we came to a stop. We were in the hospital parking lot, directly beside Giselle's car.

“I'll stay out here with Christy,” Morgan offered as Will opened his door. Still buried in the letters, Daniel mumbled something and I realized he'd be staying in the car as well—in fact, he was so fully focused on the task that I wasn't even sure if he realized we'd arrived.

Will thanked Morgan and kissed Christy goodnight. She stirred, and he told her he'd see her in the morning. Her eyes flickered and she muttered something to him, but in a split second she was fully asleep again.

I led the way through the front doors of the hospital and down the hall to Alice's room.

When we stepped inside and Will saw Giselle, he stopped.

She stepped toward him. “Little Will Gundy,” she said and then broke into a grin.

“Giselle Lantz,” he answered. And then he hugged her. My heart ached at the sight of them, the two people who yanked at my heartstrings the most, embracing each other.

Giselle motioned for him to step closer to the bed. “I spelled George about an hour ago, but he said Alice wanted to be woken up when you arrived.”

As he leaned toward his grandmother, she opened her eyes. “Will,” she whispered.

He bent down and kissed her cheek, and she wrapped her good arm around his neck. When he pulled away, she swiped at her eyes. “I'm so thankful you're here.” Her voice was barely audible.

Will told Giselle he would stay the night and she could go on home. As she bent to kiss Alice goodnight, I again felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing Giselle would be as warm with me as she was with Will and Alice.

“Did you bring the letters from Frannie?” Alice asked as she sat up a little in bed.

“Daniel has them in the car,” Will said. “He'll give them to Herr Lauten.”

Alice looked at me. “Anything so far?”

“The ink is pretty faint. Daniel's out there skimming them with a flashlight. As far as I know, he hasn't found anything yet.”

“That doesn't matter now,” Will said to Alice, his eyes tender. “All that matters is getting you home. Enough of this wild goose chase,
ya
? God will take care of us, one way or the other.”

G
iselle was fine with Morgan spending the night, as long as she didn't mind sleeping on the sofa. I was just flattered to know that though Morgan could have stayed at Amielbach, she chose to stay with us instead. While I got Christy settled, I could hear the other two women talking in the living room. After a minute or two their voices grew louder and then drifted down the hallway.

Christy and I kneeled beside the futon and said our prayers. I don't know what Christy prayed about, but I prayed that Alice would recover, that God would direct the course of the hearing tomorrow, and that Daniel and Herr Lauten would figure out where the agreement was. Mostly, I prayed I would get over Will, both completely and immediately. I didn't want to suffer through the pain of my longings. I also thanked God that Morgan had joined us and asked that she would see evidence of Him working in her life.

Images of Mel and Mat filled my mind, and I prayed they would do all right while their
daed
was gone. They were the ages now Lexie was when she'd been given up for adoption. My heart stopped cold. I couldn't imagine what Giselle felt back then when she agreed to relinquish Lexie. How could she bear it? How could she bear to see me now, for that matter, the one she had given up to her sister at birth? As I said “Amen,” I was overcome with sudden sympathy for my birth mother.

After tucking Christy in and pulling the office door closed, I stood in the hallway, listening for voices to figure out where Morgan and Giselle had gone. Giselle's bedroom door was open and I peeked inside, but no one was in there. The room had a single bed with a traditional Amish quilt—small blocks of green, burgundy, purple, and blue squares on a black background. She had several candles around the room—on the bureau and bedside table and in two holders on the wall, but none of them had been lit. A shelf of books was on the far wall, and on top of it were skeins of thread. In the corner was a small antique spinning wheel. The room felt as if someone actually lived in it, unlike the stark living room and kitchen. There were two doors in the room, closets I assumed, but one was cracked open a little. I could hear a soft murmur, voices I was sure.

I paused for a moment, jealous that not only had Giselle picked up her relationships from twenty-four years ago with both Alice and Will, but that she was willing to have one with Morgan too. But not with me.

I felt I would be intruding to step through the door into the other room. I hadn't been invited. But if I was going to have any connection with Giselle at all, it had to be my doing. I didn't see that she was going to put forth the effort. It wasn't something she needed or wanted.

I forged ahead, stepping quickly through her bedroom. Rapping my knuckles on the door, I said, “Knock, knock,” as I slowly pushed it open.

“Come on in,” Giselle answered.

She and Morgan were standing beside a large loom.

“I asked Giselle to show me her studio,” Morgan said.

I stepped further into the room. It was about the same size as the bedroom but far more cluttered. Shelves filled with thread and yarn lined one wall. Pieces of paper covered a long table. At the far end of the room were six wall hangings, five of them incomplete. The completed one was of the back of an Amish woman with three little girls huddled around her. Only one of the child's faces could be seen, and she wore a sad expression. The unfinished weavings were of stars and flowers, similar to the ones in the gift shop.

“She's working on a commissioned piece,” Morgan said. “For the gallery owner where her exhibit is.”

I stepped closer to the loom. It was only a third of the way done, but clearly Amielbach and the waterfall were in the weaving. It was in black and white, except for red flowers in the window boxes.

“The woman likes the idea of the traditional tapestries with a modern twist, so I'm doing an estate scene with a limited color scheme.”

I knew nothing about art, but I didn't really like what I saw. It was too stark and sterile. Especially considering how vibrant the scene was in real life.

Morgan began asking her questions about the process she went through to execute her ideas. I excused myself after a couple of minutes and went back to check on Christy. She was sound asleep. I pulled
Jane Eyre
from my purse and an extra blanket from the end of the bed and
went out to the living room to read until Morgan was ready to go to bed. After a few pages, I leaned my head back, feeling more restless than I had before I left Lancaster County. Seeing Giselle had resolved nothing except answering my question as to what she looked like. I closed my eyes, but the anxiety inside of me only grew more acute. The sound of my name startled me and my eyes flew open.

Giselle stood in the middle of the room. “Ada,” she said again.

I sat up straight. I could hear water in the bathroom and surmised Morgan was taking a shower.

Giselle stepped a little closer. “It feels so odd to say your name.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I named Alexandra—or Lexie, as she's called now.”

“But you didn't have anything to do with naming me?”

She shook her head. “Klara did, as she should have.” She looked past me, toward the window.

I wanted her to sit down and keep talking but she continued to stand. “What was that like for you back then?” I finally managed to say.

Her eyes jumped and she focused on me again as her eyebrows rose. “Honestly?”

I nodded.

“I can't remember. I haven't thought about all of that in years.” She paused and then looked at me intently. “Do you know that you're the perfect picture of a Plain woman?” She didn't sound as if she was paying me a compliment, and I wondered if her use of the word “Plain” had a double meaning. “And I can see by the way you dote on Christy that you'll be a good mother.” She sighed. “In fact, what's surprising is that you're not married yet. How long ago did you join the church? Six or seven years?”

“I haven't yet.”

“Really?” Her dark eyes brightened. “Why ever not?”

“I had some health issues…”

“But you will, right?” she said, running her hand through her short hair.

“Probably.”

She tilted her head to the side. I felt as if she were seeing something she hadn't seen before. “All these years I imagined you belonging to the church and married, with a brood of children already.”

Heat rose on my face at her comment. “Lexie just got married,” I offered, hoping to change the subject.