The Amish Mother

The boy stopped for a moment and blinked up at her. “But it tastes goot, and I’m hungry.”

“Zeke,” Zack heard Lizzie say quietly, “your sister is right. If you aren’t careful, you will choke and hurt yourself. If you take your time, you will enjoy it more.”

Zack watched with surprise as the little boy nodded and grinned in Lizzie’s direction. “Ja, Mam,” he said, and then he began to eat more slowly, chewing his food thoroughly before swallowing. His brother’s widow smiled at the child with affection, clearly pleased by his obedience.

Lizzie looked up then as if sensing a presence, saw him in the doorway and stood. “Zack,” she said, her expression becoming shuttered. “May I get you something to eat? Some apple crisp—”

“It’s goot, Onkel Zack!” little Ezekiel told him with a mouthful of the treat and a grin.

Zack shook his head. “We ate ourselves full on the way here.”

“’Tis delicious.” Mary Ruth smiled as she held up the plate as if enticing him to try it.

He had the sudden urge to grin. “Hmm. May we take two pieces to eat later?”

“Ja. I’ll wrap them up for you.” Lizzie cut two slices of the apple treat, set them on a plate and covered it with plastic wrap. She placed the dish within his easy reach. “Is everything in the cottage all right?” she asked almost shyly, referring to the dawdi haus. She sat down and cradled her teacup with her hands.

“Ja. It looks goot. We’ll be most comfortable there.” He saw that she looked satisfied. As he sat and waited for his sister to finish her tea, Zack studied his late brother’s wife. Dressed in a light blue dress with a full-length black apron, Lizzie was stunning. Her dark red hair had been rolled in the Amish way and tucked beneath her white head covering without a single strand out of place. Her green eyes appeared large in her pretty feminine face; her nose was well shaped and small, her lips pink and full. Despite her young age and obvious handicap, he could see why his brother had chosen to make her his bride. He looked away, startled by the direction of his thoughts.

“We should get settled in,” he said.

Esther agreed. “Ja. The tea was goot.” She stood and picked up the plate of apple crisp. “We will eat this later.”

Zack rose and nodded his thanks. “We will see you tomorrow,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

Lizzie stood. “Don’t hesitate to tell us if you need anything.”

He followed Esther through the back door of the farmhouse and sensed Lizzie’s presence as he stepped outside. He turned to see her standing in the open doorway. She locked gazes with him. He felt a tightening in his chest before she broke eye contact. The children pushed by her and stood in the yard watching as he continued to the dawdi haus behind his sister.

“Onkel Zack!” a young voice cried. Zack turned to face his young nephew Jonas. “Do you know how to play baseball?” the boy asked.

Zack smiled. “Ja, I used to play.” But it had been years ago, when all of his family had been alive and living in the farmhouse.

“Will you play with us sometime?” Jonas asked with hope in his eyes. “Next visiting Sunday?”

“Jonas,” he heard Lizzie say softly. “Don’t be pestering your onkel.”

He didn’t know why, but the woman’s words bothered him. “I’ll play ball with you,” he said, his gaze rising to Lizzie’s face, “come next visiting Sunday.” His tone and words were letting her know that he had no plans to leave the farm anytime soon. When he saw her blanch, he realized that she’d gotten his message, and he suddenly regretted it.

His attention went to the young boy whose eyes glistened with excitement. Jonas wore a big smile on his face. Zack flashed him a grin. He heard a little catch in someone’s breath and turned to discover that it had been Lizzie.

He’d come to the farm to see how his brother’s widow and children were managing and to claim his inheritance. If Abraham had been alive, he would have stayed in Ohio, knowing that the farm was in his brother’s capable hands. He would have forgotten that his father had intended him to have the farm. But after learning that Ruth and Abraham were dead, Zack had decided the time had come to step in and take back what was rightfully his. Lizzie Fisher, his brother’s widow, was a stranger to him and no blood relation to his nieces and nephews. He’d decided that he couldn’t allow her to keep his brother’s children or the farm.

But now, after meeting her and seeing the way Lizzie interacted with the children, he was beginning to rethink the situation. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he’d figure out something. The children loved Lizzie, he realized as he crossed the yard toward the dawdi haus. Somehow he must consider what was in the best interests of the children as well as the farm property.

Zack sighed as he reached the cottage and held the door open for Esther. He would pray to the Lord that he would choose right for everyone. Complications, he thought. He hadn’t expected this many of them.

Chapter Four

Lizzie woke up feeling ill. I overdid it this week, she realized. All the hard work she’d accomplished on the farm these past few days had aggravated her hip, and the resulting pain made her nauseous.

She’d been sick a lot since Abraham had passed on and she’d felt the stress of managing everything alone. Ever since Zack’s first visit, she’d been afraid. Her fears had intensified after his departure. Now that he was back, she wondered if he was silently making decisions that would impact her life with the children. If he chose to claim the farm, what would happen to them? Could she somehow stop him? Would the fact that he hadn’t come forward before now work in her favor?

Lizzie frowned. The children were Zack’s family and had the right to live on the farm with him. It was she who had no blood ties. She’d married Abraham, it was true, but for most of their married life, she hadn’t been a real wife...until the night before Abraham’s fatal accident, when they finally had consummated their marriage. Lizzie had been so happy that night because she’d realized then that her husband had begun to care for her as a wife instead of just a housekeeper and babysitter. If Abraham had lived, she thought, we might have had children together.

Children. Lizzie gasped. I’ve missed one month. She’d missed a month before. Her woman’s flow was often irregular. She wasn’t sure why, but skipping a period happened to her on occasion. Since Abraham’s death, she’d been so busy caring for the children and the farm that she hadn’t noticed until now.

She rose from bed. It was early; the children were asleep, but it wouldn’t be long before they stirred, ready for breakfast.

A baby. She would love nothing more than to give birth to Abraham’s child, to have his baby son or daughter. The child would be a legitimate and accepted member of the Fisher family. My child would cement the bond between the Fishers and me.

Her Amish church community accepted her right to the farm as the children’s stepmother and Abraham’s widow. But did Zack agree?

Lizzie settled a hand on her abdomen. A baby. She silently counted the days since Abraham’s death. Within the next day or so, she would know for certain. Somehow she just knew she was carrying her late husband’s son or daughter. But she would not tell anyone yet. She would save the news for the right moment. She couldn’t allow herself to become too excited at the prospect until she was sure. But how could she not be hopeful? She would love to give the children a new baby brother or sister to love, the child of their deceased father. Perhaps Mary Ruth and Hannah would finally accept her.

A door squeaked as if it was being closed carefully. Then she heard the sound of someone moving about in the hall. Lizzie grabbed the flashlight from her bed table and turned it on. She then hurriedly donned a robe over her nightgown before, with light in hand, she peeked into the hall.

“Anne,” she whispered as the light fell on the child outside her bedroom door. “Are your sisters up?”

Anne shook her head. The five-year-old wore her nightgown and carried her clothes as if she intended to dress downstairs.

Lizzie waved her into the room. “Koom. I’ll help you get dressed and do your hair.”

Annie smiled and hurried into the room that had once belonged to Lizzie and Abraham.

Lizzie lit an oil lamp, turned off the flashlight and then helped Anne out of her nightgown and into her day clothes. Then she reached for a brush and comb. First, she brushed her daughter’s long golden locks. Then she combed, rolled and pinned the roll against Annie’s head in the Amish way. Lizzie smiled as she worked. She enjoyed fixing the girl’s hair; the simple action of brushing her daughter’s hair soothed her.

“Why are you up so early?” she asked softly. There was barely a hint of dawn in the eastern sky.

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

Finished, Lizzie stepped back and turned Anne to face her. “Is something upsetting you?”

Annie was quiet for a moment. “Mam, will Onkel Zack marry you and stay with us forever?”

Lizzie froze in shock. “I— Nay, dochter. I don’t know your onkel that well and he doesn’t know me.”

“But you can get to know and love each other.” Annie gazed at her as Lizzie placed a prayer kapp on the child’s head. “It is possible.”

Lizzie worded her reply carefully. “I suppose it’s possible, Anne,” she said, pausing before continuing, “but unlikely.”

“You miss Dat.”

Lizzie nodded. “Your vadder was a goot man and a wonderful husband.”

“You didn’t know him well when you married him.”

Lizzie swallowed before answering. “What gave you that idea?”

Annie reached up to lovingly pat Lizzie’s cheek. “I heard Mary Ruth and Hannah talking.”

Lizzie felt dismayed. She could only imagine what the two girls had said. “I was happy to marry your vadder because then his seven children—all of you—became mine. I love you all as if I had given birth to you.”

“I remember when Ezekiel was born.” Annie shifted to sit beside Lizzie on her bed. “Mam didn’t feel well, and I heard her crying and screaming. I was afraid.”

“I’m sure it seemed worse than it was, Anne. Giving birth is a natural thing. Ja, it hurts a mudder as it happens, but then the birth is a joyous thing, and she forgets all about the pain.”

“Mam didn’t,” Annie said, startling Lizzie with her words. “She wasn’t happy after Ezekiel was born. She cried a lot and Dat tried to make her feel better, but she didn’t listen.” Annie looked at Lizzie with confusion. “Why didn’t Mam love us anymore?”

“What?” Lizzie said, taken aback by the child’s revelation. “I’m sure that your mam must have loved you very much.”

Annie blinked back tears.

“Nay. Mam didn’t want us anymore. I heard her telling Dat.”

“She was probably tired and upset. I doubt she meant it.” Lizzie placed an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I’m sure your mam loved you just as your dat did.” Annie had overheard things that her mother never should have said. It upset Lizzie to realize that Annie was still hurt by the memory. Some women suffered depression after giving birth. They couldn’t enjoy life or their babies. Was that the way it had been with Abraham’s first wife?

“I miss Dat.”

Lizzie nodded. “I know you do,” she whispered. “So do I.”

“Onkel Zack looks like Dat, only his hair is dark and he is younger.”

Lizzie had noticed and told her so. It hurt her to know that Anne had suffered. She hugged her, put on a happy face and said, “Now, we should go downstairs to fix breakfast. Would you like to help make waffles?”

Annie nodded enthusiastically. “Ja, I like helping in the kitchen.”

“I’ll get dressed and then we’ll go downstairs. I need to feed the animals first. Will you set the table while I’m outside?”

Annie agreed, and soon Lizzie and Annie went silently down the stairs to the kitchen. Lizzie took out the plates, napkins and utensils and gave them to Anne. Then she left the house and crossed the yard. She reached the barn as Zack was leaving it.

“Zack!” she gasped, startled.

“Lizzie.”

“Is there something I can help you with? I’ve come to feed the animals and do the milking,” she said.

“The animals have been fed.” Zack studied her intently. “And your cows have been milked.” He held up the bucket of milk she hadn’t noticed previously.

“You did my chores?” she said politely, but she was silently outraged.

“I thought I’d help with the chores while I am here,” he said. “You have enough to do caring for the children.”

“I’ve been doing just fine since your brooder died,” she told him. “And I’ve been managing well.”

“Ja.” His voice was quiet as he narrowed his gaze on her. “But it’s time someone helps you with the burden.”

Lizzie stiffened. “I don’t consider the children or this farm a burden.”

He nodded, looking thoughtful. “I don’t suppose you do. But I’d like to work as long as I am staying here. Is that a problem? What would you have me do all day, if not help with the farm chores?”

Lizzie opened her mouth to respond and then promptly shut it. She sighed. She understood how he felt. “Fine. You may help.”

His lips twitched. “Goot.”

“’Tis not because I can’t do it,” she pointed out quickly.

Amusement gleamed in his dark eyes. “I never said it was.”

Lizzie felt satisfied. She would try not to feel threatened just because he needed something to do.

“Will you and Esther come for breakfast? The children should be awake soon. Please join us.”

He seemed to think for a minute as his gaze went toward the dawdi haus. “I don’t believe Esther has eaten yet.”

“I’ll set places for you.” And she left, her composure shaken by her confrontation with Zack.

Lizzie headed toward the house, her thoughts spinning in her head. Having the Fisher siblings on the property disturbed her peace of mind and threatened her place within this family. She shouldn’t be alarmed if her brother-in-law wanted to do farm chores. Zack hadn’t come out and said that he was here to take over the farm. Perhaps she should confront him and learn the truth? But what if in the asking, I give him the idea he never had? Do I really want to know? Or must I first convince him that I can manage without help before he’ll stop worrying and return to Ohio?

Lizzie entered the house to find that Annie had set the table, and Mary Ruth, Hannah and Rebecca had come downstairs to help with breakfast. The girls looked over as she entered the room with a smile.

“I’ll be making waffles this morning,” she told Mary Ruth. “Would you like some?” Mary Ruth was slow to answer, and Lizzie added, “Your onkel and endie will be eating with us.”

Her eldest daughter looked pleased. “I’ll get the butter and syrup.”

“I’ll help with batter,” Hannah said.

Lizzie shot her a look of apology. “I promised Anne that she could help.”

Hannah looked at Anne, who appeared as if she would cry if someone took away her job of batter making. She appeared to understand. “Can we have muffins, too? Onkel Zack likes your muffins. I can open a new jar of your strawberry jam.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Hannah,” Lizzie said.

Soon, each of the girls had a special job to do to help in preparing breakfast for their aunt and uncle. Matthew and the two young boys, Jonas and Ezekiel, entered the kitchen minutes later. “It smells goot in here,” Matt said.

Lizzie, who was showing Anne how to stir the batter, glanced over her shoulder. “Zack and Esther are joining us.”

Looking pleased, Matt asked what he could do to help.

As the kitchen filled with activity of her and the children working together, Lizzie felt grateful. If nothing else, Zack’s visit had brought the family together to work without sadness, sulking or anger.

Zack and Esther arrived for breakfast, and everyone sat at the large kitchen trestle table. Lizzie, with Esther’s help, set out the waffles and other breakfast items.

“Waffles!” Zack exclaimed with pleasure as Lizzie handed him a plateful.

“You like waffles, Onkel Zack?” Annie asked.

Zack grinned at her. “Ja.” He took a bite. “These waffles taste especially goot.”

Lizzie watched her daughter beam and felt grateful to Zack for making Anne happy. He looked over and winked at her, and she couldn’t help grinning back at him. He had known that Anne had helped with the batter, and he’d wanted her to feel special.

Zack Fisher is charming. If she weren’t worried about his motives, it would be very easy to fall under his charm. She wondered how it would have been if they’d met at another time and under different circumstances. She frowned. She had to stop thinking of such things. Having such thoughts was disloyal to Abraham and to herself.

The children were excited to eat with their aunt and uncle. They chattered nonstop, especially Matt, Hannah and Rebecca, who debated the merits of waffles with maple syrup versus waffles with warm, sautéed apples.

“I like warm cinnamon apples best,” Hannah declared.

“Nay, there is nothing like goot maple syrup,” Matt insisted. “Don’t ya think, Onkel Zack?”

Zack laughed. “Don’t ask me. I like them both ways. I’m not partial to either one. I like mine with honey, too.”

A discussion ensued then on the merits of honey versus maple syrup.

Mary Ruth was quiet, Lizzie noticed, but when she caught her eldest daughter’s gaze, the girl smiled at her warmly and Lizzie realized that Mary Ruth was simply content to happily observe her brothers and sisters with their aunt and uncle. The atmosphere was one of a big happy family, and it was at times such as this that she felt glad that Zack and Esther had returned to Honeysuckle.

When they had finished their breakfast, the older girls left to do their assigned chores. Soon they would return to the kitchen to help prepare food for the next day. The youngest boys scampered outside with Lizzie’s permission to enjoy a few moments in the sun under Matthew’s watchful eye. Zack excused himself to check on something in the barn. Lizzie watched him go, wondering what needed his attention.

“Tomorrow is church Sunday,” Esther said after she and Lizzie had enjoyed a few quiet moments at the table. She began to gather up the empty breakfast dishes.

“Ja,” Lizzie said as she rose to help. “’Tis to be held at the Thomas Stoltzfus farm.” She gathered tea and coffee cups along with the children’s milk glasses. “Do you know them? Thomas and Marybeth Stoltzfus?”

Esther thought a moment. “Their names are familiar but I can’t place faces on them.”

“You’ll have a chance to visit with them after church tomorrow.” Lizzie filled up a basin with sudsy water and began washing the dishes. Esther joined her at the sink with a dish towel and began to dry.

Zack peeked his head back into the kitchen, startling both women. “Isn’t it church Sunday tomorrow?” he asked.

“Ja,” his sister said. “We were just discussing this. Lizzie said it’s to be held at the Thomas Stoltzfuses’. Do you remember them?”

Zack shook his head. “But it’s been years. Seeing them may jog my memory.”

“Do you need anything?” Lizzie asked, wondering again what he’d been doing in the barn and now why he’d returned.

“Nay, I just came to check on tomorrow. I’ll have the buggy ready in the morning,” he said.

As he left again, Lizzie stifled a frown and went back to work. It wouldn’t do to give her thoughts away to Esther...that she was beginning to feel as if he were taking over the farm without telling her. She had to talk with her brother-in-law soon. The uncertainty, the fear, was eating her alive, and besides, she had something on her side now...the tiny baby growing inside her.

* * *

The morning dawned bright and clear as Lizzie made sure all the children were ready in time for Sunday service. She gathered up the desserts she’d made for the shared meal afterward and went outside to set them in the buggy. Zack and Esther were already outside waiting for her and the children near the vehicle. When he smiled at her, Lizzie felt a funny feeling in her chest.

“Goot morning.” Matt ran ahead and grinned at Zack, whose lips curved upward in response.

Lizzie inclined her head in greeting as she approached, carrying two pie plates. Zack surprised her when he reached for her plates and stowed them on the floor in the front seat. The children climbed into the back of the buggy that had been built specifically for Abraham’s growing family after Jonas was born. Dressed in their Sunday best, the girls wore black full-length aprons over royal blue dresses, with black head coverings. The three boys sported white shirts, black vests and black pants, with black shoes and black-felt brimmed hats. Seeing her sons looking so like their uncle gave Lizzie a flash of memory of their family life when her husband had been alive. Sadness overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to cry.

Soon they were on their way to church services at the Thomas Stoltzfus farm. Lizzie found herself in the front, seated next to Zack after Esther chose to sit in the back. As Zack drove, Lizzie was overly conscious of him beside her. She experienced an odd sensation in her midsection. The baby? It wasn’t her unborn child that made her feel this way, she realized. It was Zack sitting closely beside her. She watched his strong hands handle the reins with confidence. He was relaxed as he steered the buggy along the paved road toward their destination.

She wondered how the congregation would react when they saw her and the children with Zack and Esther. Abraham had been well liked and respected, and they’d known that he’d needed to marry quickly for the sake of his children. But Lizzie had always wondered what they’d thought about Abraham’s choice of a crippled seventeen-year-old bride.

Months into her marriage to Abe, the community women had begun to stop by the farm to visit with her, often seeking her company during church and visiting Sundays. Apparently after seeing how hard she’d worked and the love she had for her new family, the community must have decided that Abraham had chosen well.

When her childhood friend Rachel Miller had married Peter Zook, who lived down the road, Lizzie had been happy and excited. She, Abraham and the children had been invited to the wedding, and Lizzie had been overjoyed to see her dear friend happy and in love.

Zack steered the horse into the Stoltzfuses’ barnyard and parked at the end of a long row of family buggies. He got out and assisted Esther. The children scrambled out quickly in a hurry to see their friends. Because of her hip, Lizzie slid out more carefully and was relieved to be standing steady and on firm ground, before Zack had a chance to reach her side of the vehicle. She retrieved the pies from the buggy floor and nearly bumped into Zack as she straightened. She gasped, instantly aware of his clean masculine scent—a mixture of her homemade soap, fresh air and a manly smell that belonged only to Zack.

Silently, he reached to take the desserts from her. She passed him the cherry pie while refusing to relinquish the apple. Lizzie firmed her lips. She was more than capable of carrying pies! He must have read her expression, for he captured her gaze, his lips curving with amusement, before he turned his attention to his sister, who joined them with the dish of brownies she’d baked yesterday afternoon.