Amish Christmas Blessings: The Midwife's Christmas Surprise / A Christmas to Remember

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Your mother sent me out to help you. I didn’t realize what you were doing until...”

Her defense withered under his cold stare. When had he gotten those lines around his eyes, that tenseness in his jaw? That was new. Was that what the outside world had done to him?

“It didn’t occur to you to let me know you were here, ja?” He bent to pick up the wheelbarrow handles. “You’ve done your duty. I’m coming. Why don’t you run back and tell my daad that I was out here talking on my cell phone?”

A wave of anger came to her rescue. “I’m not a child, and I don’t tattle on people.”

“No.” His gaze drifted over her. “I can see you’re not a child, Anna. You’re all grown up now.”

Her anger edged up a notch at the way he’d looked at her. “Your clothes don’t make you Amish, Benjamin. If you’re not ready to leave the Englisch world, maybe you shouldn’t have komm.”

If anything, his face got tighter, until he didn’t look remotely like the boy she’d loved. “Mamm may say you’re like a daughter to her, but you’re not family. It’s not your business, so leave it alone.”

Shoving the wheelbarrow, he strode off toward the house.

Anna stood where she was, fists clenched. So much for her resolutions. Maybe she could forgive Benjamin for what he’d done in the past. But what about what he planned to do in the future? How could she ever trust him again?

* * *

Ben walked into the kitchen after supper, intent on a last cup of coffee. The quick cadences of Pennsylvania Dutch came from the living room, where everyone was settled for the evening, Daad reading aloud something from the latest issue of the Amish newspaper, Mamm sewing and Josh whittling a tiny boat destined for their brother Daniel’s oldest for Christmas. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the sound of his native tongue, and it soothed his soul.

But he was leaving out someone. Anna was there as well, her lap filled with the baby shawl she was crocheting for Daniel and Barbie’s youngest. When he’d said she wasn’t part of the family, he’d wanted only to hurt her. Not only had that been unkind, it hadn’t been true. Maybe she was more a member of the family than he was.

Standing at the counter, he stirred sugar into the coffee, his spoon clinking against the thick white mug. Mamm had already lined the kitchen windowsill with the greens he’d brought in. Amish might not have the Christmas trees that were everywhere in the outside world, but that didn’t mean they didn’t celebrate the season of Christ’s birth in their own way.

A light step sounded behind him, and Ben knew without turning that it was Anna. Funny, how his view of her had changed. He’d thought her a quiet little mouse of a girl when she’d first come to stay with them. But he’d learned she had considerable spirit behind that quiet exterior. Today she’d turned it against him in reminding him that clothes didn’t make him Amish, and he didn’t like it.

“Ben.” Her voice was soft. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

He turned. If she intended to reiterate her opinion of him...

Anna’s heart-shaped face was serious, and a couple of lines had formed between her eyebrows. “I want to apologize.” She seemed to have trouble getting the words out. “I had no right to speak to you the way I did. I’m sorry.”

She’d disarmed him, taking away all the things he’d stored up to say.

“It’s okay. I know you’re just concerned about Mamm.”

Some emotion he couldn’t identify crossed her face, darkening her eyes. “She’s not my mother, but I do care about her.”

“I know.” His voice roughened despite his effort at control. “Believe me, I don’t want to hurt her.”

He already had, hadn’t he? Ben backed away from that thought.

“Gut.” Anna hesitated. “I hope you’re home to stay. It would mean so much to your family.”

Would it mean anything to you, Anna? He shoved that thought away, not sure where it had come from.

“A lot has changed since I’ve been gone. I can’t believe how Josh has grown. And think of Daniel and Barbie, having two kinder already. And I suppose Joseph will be next.”

That brought a smile to her face, warming her eyes and showing him the beauty other people didn’t seem to see. “I’ve never seen your mamm so nervous as when Barbie’s little ones were born. She said I had to catch them because she couldn’t, but believe me, she watched every move.”

Ben leaned against the counter, cradling the mug in his hands as he studied her face. “So you’re a partner now, not an apprentice. That’s great.”

Anna wrinkled her nose. “Now if we could just convince our clients of that...”

“Not willing to admit you’re all grown up, are they? Folks are slow to move forward here, ain’t so?”

She nodded, and again he saw that flicker of some emotion saddening her eyes. Did it worry her that people might still favor Mamm to deliver their babies?

They’d be wrong to discount Anna. There was a lot more to her than most folks thought, he’d guess. For an instant he saw her face turned up to his in the moonlight, alive with joy. Did no one else see that in her?

“Why aren’t you married yet, Anna?” The question was out before he realized that it would be better not spoken. Talk about butting in where he didn’t belong. “Sorry, I shouldn’t...”

Daad came into the kitchen, interrupting the difficult moment. He glanced from Anna to him and then moved toward the coats hanging by the back door.

“I’m going out to check the stock. Komm with me, Ben?”

“Sure.” Daad was getting him out of a difficult moment—that was certain sure.

Grabbing the black wool jacket that Mamm had put away in mothballs for his return, he followed Daad out the back door.

The air was crisp and cold, making his skin tingle. And the dark—he’d forgotten how dark it was on the farm after living for three years with constant electric lights everywhere. The yellow glow from the windows faded as they walked toward the barn. Daad switched on the flashlight he carried, sending a circle of light ahead of them.

Ben tilted his head back. The stars were so bright it seemed he could reach out and touch them. “How bright the stars are here,” he said, his breath misting in front of his face.

Daad grunted. “No other lights to dim God’s handiwork.”

Daad had never lost an opportunity to point out God’s presence in their lives. He’d always said that it was a blessing to be a farmer, because it was as close as one could get to Heaven.

But right now, Daad wasn’t doing much talking. If they were going to communicate, it was probably up to him.

“You extended the chicken coop, I see.”

Daad flickered his flashlight in that direction. “The roof was getting bad, so we decided to replace the whole thing. Just took a day with everyone helping.”

Everyone but him, he supposed Daad meant. He couldn’t deny that. “I can’t believe how Josh has grown. He’s a man already.”

A grunt of agreement was Daad’s only answer. This was going to be an uphill battle. He hurried to shove back the heavy door before Daad reached it.

Their entrance was greeted by soft whickers from the stalls. Daad lit the propane lantern, and the interior of the barn emerged from the gloom.

A wave of emotion hit Ben, startling him by its strength. Why would he be so moved by the barn? Maybe it was the assurance of Daad’s routine. Nothing really needed to be done with the stock at this hour, but still, Daad never went to bed without a last check, just as Mamm had to check each of her kinder. Ben had been proud the first time Daad considered him old enough to come along on the evening round.

He stepped to the nearest stall, reaching up to run a hand along the neck of the buggy horse that nosed him curiously. “You’re a handsome fellow.” He stroked strong shoulders. “The gelding’s a good-looking animal. He’s new, ain’t so?”

“Went all the way down to Lancaster County for the livestock auction last spring to get him.”

Daad sounded as proud as an Amish person was likely to, pride being a sin. Funny, how the Englisch world seemed to consider it right and proper.

“Looks like you got a gut deal.”

He moved to the next stall, to be greeted with a nuzzle that nearly knocked his hat off. Dolly, the black-and-white pony they’d all learned to drive with. Her muzzle was a little gray now, but she looked fine and healthy.

He patted her, letting the memories flood back...driving the pony cart up the road to the neighbor’s farm, the day he’d thrown himself on Dolly’s back and urged her to gallop, the feel of the ground coming at him when she’d stopped suddenly, objecting to being ridden.

“Suppose I should have sold Dolly to someone with young kinder.” Daad stood next to him, his gaze on the pony. “But she’s gut with Daniel’s young one when he comes over.”

Besides the fact that Daad wouldn’t have wanted to part with her. Ben understood that—he wouldn’t, either.

“There’s something I need to say to you, Benjamin.” Daad’s voice was weighted with meaning. “Your mamm and me...well, we’d always thought that the farm would go to you when we were ready to take it a bit easier. I guess you knew that.”

He had, yes. It had been an accepted thing. Amish farms typically went to one of the younger sons, because they came of age when fathers were ready to take it a bit easier. And Ben had been the one who’d loved the farm more than Josh, whose mind was taken up by all things mechanical.

Maybe that had been in his mind that last night, when he’d seen himself settling down, marrying Anna, taking over the farm when it was time, building the next generation. It had closed in on him, reminding him of all the things he hadn’t seen, hadn’t done.

“Still, when you stayed away so long, we had to face the fact that you might not be back. So we decided the farm would go to Joshua. He’s young yet, not settled, but I’m good for a few more years.” Daad flickered a glance at him, then focused on Dolly. “Only fair to tell you. I don’t think it right to change our minds again. This is still your home, but it’ll go to Joshua, not you.”

It shouldn’t have hit him like a hammer. He should have expected it. After all, it was only right. He’d made his choice when he left.

He forced himself to nod, to smile. “Joshua will do a fine job, I know.”

It was only now, when it was out of his reach, that Ben realized how much this place meant to him.

Chapter Three

Anna had no need to cluck to Buck when they came in sight of the Schmidt farm on the way back from home visits a few days later. Buck knew that his own barn would soon be appearing and knew, too, that there’d be a treat for him once he was unhitched.

“Easy, boy.” Anna said it with indulgence in her voice. Given the leaden skies and cold temperatures, she’d be glad to get into the warm farmhouse kitchen, rich with the scents of whatever Elizabeth had decided to treat her menfolk with today.

The fencepost that marked the beginning of the Miller fields came in to view, with someone in the usual black coat and black felt hat bending over the post. He looked up and waved, and she saw that it was Ben. She pulled the mare to a halt at his upraised hand.

Ben smiled up at her, lines crinkling around his blue eyes. “A ride home, please?” he asked.

“For sure.” She gestured toward the seat next to her. If he could act as if things were normal between them, so could she.

He climbed up, settling on the seat, and Buck flicked an ear back in recognition of the extra weight.

“Komm, Buck, you remember me, ain’t so?”

Anna had to smile at his teasing. “He’s not used to having another person along on home visit days.” Anna snapped the lines, and Buck moved on.

“You’ve been doing most of them, seems like.” Ben shot a glance at her face. “Mamm’s all right, isn’t she?”

“Ach, ya, she’s fine. I think she feels having me take over more of the home visits might push folks into accepting me.”

Elizabeth hadn’t actually said so, but Anna could read her pretty well. After all, it had always been the understanding between them that Anna would take over more of the practice as Elizabeth wanted to slow down.

“How’s that working out?” Ben had a trick of lifting one eyebrow when he asked a question that always seemed to cause a little flutter in her heart.

Anna forced herself to concentrate. “Pretty well, I think. Etta Beachy even let me check out her daughter-in-law today. Reluctantly.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like Etta hasn’t changed much. Always has to have everything her way, ain’t so?”

Anna shrugged. “She wants the best for her first grandbaby.” And she didn’t think Anna was the best. She didn’t say that aloud, of course. And she certain sure didn’t confide the thing that was weighing on her.

Elizabeth seemed sure Dora’s baby wouldn’t arrive until the New Year, and she’d had plenty more experience than Anna had. But based on her examination today, Anna would have guessed a good week or two earlier.

She’d reminded Dora that babies could easily arrive two weeks early or two weeks late, just to have Etta pooh-pooh the notion that her grandson would show up any earlier than the date she’d determined, January 6, Old Christmas, which was her husband’s birthday.

Anna hadn’t felt up to taking on an argument about the baby’s sex, either. She sent Dora a meaningful glance, relieved to see a smile and a shrug in return. Maybe Dora wasn’t as cowed by her formidable mother-in-law as she’d thought.

Ben put his hands over hers on the lines, startling her, and she realized they’d nearly run right into the barn, buggy and all.

“Ach, sorry. I was woolgathering.” She looped the lines and scrambled down before Ben could offer to help her.

“Problems?” he said lightly, coming around to start the unharnessing.

“No, nothing at all.” She kept her head down, focusing on the job at hand.

“I see.” He patted the mare’s neck. “If you decide to talk to somebody, I know how to keep a secret. And I owe you.”

For an instant she was struck dumb. Was he talking about her not saying anything about his phone call? Or was that by way of being an apology to saying he loved her and then vanishing?

If she didn’t know, it was surely best to say nothing. She managed to glance at him with a smile. “Only a midwife’s menfolk would find it possible to talk about the birth of a boppli in mixed company.”

Ben grinned. “The rest of them pretend they don’t even notice a babe is coming until it is safe in its cradle.”

As Anna reached up to pull off the headstall, Ben grabbed it first. “You go in and warm up,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

“But you don’t know about Buck’s treat when he is unharnessed,” she said lightly. “You might make a mistake and try to give him a carrot.”

“He’s a fussy one, is he?” Ben pulled the harness free. “What is it? A sugar cube?”

“That’s right.” Anna held it on her palm, feeling Buck’s soft lips brushing her skin as he took the sugar.

“Spoiled thing,” Ben teased.

“A midwife’s buggy horse has to be ready for a lot of unexpected trips,” she said. “He works for his sugar.”

Anna led the gelding toward the paddock while Ben carried the harness to its rack. It was easy, it seemed, to get back to the kind of teasing conversation she’d once had with Ben. Too easy? She couldn’t risk falling for him all over again.

Opening the gate, she released the horse. Buck trotted a few steps and then stopped, lifting his head and sniffing the air.

Snow! Anna saw the first few flakes nearly as soon as the horse did. She tilted her head back, scanning the sky for more.

“What are you doing?” Ben had reached the gate without her noticing.

“Snow,” she said, unable to keep the glee from her voice.

Ben chuckled. “I’d near forgot that you’re like a kid when it snows.” A sudden breeze sent a cluster of snowflakes dancing across the paddock. Buck whinnied, pranced in place for a moment and then trotted around in a circle, head tossing.

Ben laughed. “Or maybe like the horse. Sure you don’t want to run around in a circle, too?”

“Nothing wrong with getting excited about the first snow.” She could hear the defensiveness in her voice.

Ben clasped her by the wrists, and she looked up at his face. “Nothing at all wrong,” he said gently. “I’m glad of it, Anna. Makes me feel like I could shed a few burdens and trot around, too.”

Still holding her wrists, he swung her around, his face lit with laughter. “We’ll both celebrate, ain’t so?”

Laughing, Anna swung around with him, face tilted back to feel the flakes on her skin, until she was breathless.

“Stop, stop.” She grabbed his forearms, feeling solid muscle under the layers of fabric. “What if someone saw us?”

“They’d think we were a bit ferhoodled.” He stopped, so suddenly she might have fallen if not for his strong hands holding hers.

For an instant they stood staring at each other, and she felt her heart turn over. Then he was stepping away. “We’d best get inside and get warmed up. Josh will be wanting to get the sleigh out if this keeps up.”

He sounded perfectly normal, as if he’d felt nothing at all in that moment when her heart had twisted.

Anna took a deep breath of cold air, knowing her cheeks were burning. So. She’d told herself she could get back to the way they’d been before the night she’d known she loved him. She’d been wrong. Their relationship was a lot more complicated than that.

* * *

“I’m telling you, Ben, this is going to be a great winter for snow. Grossdaadi says the woolly bear caterpillars predicted a real snowy winter. We have to get the sleigh ready.”

Grinning, Ben followed his younger brother up the ladder to the upper loft in the barn. In some ways Josh, despite his size, was still the little kid brother he’d always been.

“Okay, okay, I said I’d help you get the sleigh ready and I will. Just don’t blame me if it sits high and dry for half the winter.”

“It won’t,” Josh said confidently, scrambling the rest of the way into the loft and reaching back a gloved hand to tug Ben up beside him.

“There she is,” Josh said proudly. “Let’s get it uncovered and down to the barn floor.”

“Easier said than done.” Ben gave a mock grumble, but truth to tell, he’d have done something a lot harder to have this time to get reacquainted with his little brother.

Together they rigged up the sleigh to the hook used to move bales and lowered it to the floor. Josh was so eager to get at it that he would have tumbled down the ladder if not for Ben’s steadying hand.

“Take it easy. The sleigh’s not going anywhere.”

“I know.” Josh grinned. “Boy, it’s gut to have you home again.” He sobered, as if wondering whether that was the right thing to say.

Ben gripped his shoulder for a moment. “Me, too.” Regret swept over him. He’d let Josh down when he’d left, not even thinking of him. Dan and Joseph were enough older that Josh would never have confided in them. There seemed no end to the lives affected by his leaving.

Josh chattered as they worked on the sleigh, wiping away the dust that had accumulated over the summer and removing every speck of rust from the runners. “And besides, Anna loves to take the sleigh out. She’ll be surprised when she sees it’s ready. Anna does so much for everyone, I want to do something nice for her. She really is like a big sister to me.” He sent a sidelong glance at Ben, as if to see how he was taking that.

Ben figured the safest thing he could do was nod. Obviously everyone in the family would have been happy if he and Anna had married. He couldn’t marry to make other people happy, but given how strong an attraction she still had for him, maybe...

No maybes, he told himself. Whatever he did or didn’t do here, he couldn’t hurt Anna again.

“Anna says...” Josh paused, polishing vigorously at an already shining runner.

When he didn’t go on, Ben elbowed him. “Go ahead. What does Anna say?”

Josh rubbed even harder. “She says I should just tell you what I feel.”

What now? “Go ahead.” He braced himself.

“I guess Daad told you about his plans for the farm?”

“Ya, and it’s fine.” He hastened to assure him, hoping he sounded convincing. “You deserve it. I’m happy for you.”

“But that’s just it.” The words burst out of Josh. “I’m not happy. I don’t want it.” He clamped his lips shut and glanced around as if afraid someone had heard.

Ben felt a frown knotting his forehead. “But how can you not want a farm like this?”

“You say that because it’s your dream,” Josh said. “Just like it’s Daad’s. Nobody understands that I might want something different.”

Josh’s voice had risen, and Ben put his hand on the boy’s arm.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just tell me what you want.”

“What I always wanted. You know I always liked working with machines better than anything. I’m the one who fixed the generator when it stopped, remember? And I rebuilt that baler when everyone else gave up on it, too.”

He couldn’t help but be moved by the passion in Josh’s voice. “If you feel that way about it, won’t Daad understand?”

“I tried. He just doesn’t see. He thinks it’s fair that I have the farm, and he won’t change his mind.” Josh turned his face away, obviously not wanting anyone to see his emotion.

Here was something else to be laid to his account, it seemed. But what could he do? A look at his brother forced a decision. He had to make this right for Josh, somehow.

He grasped his brother by the shoulders and shook him gently. “Listen, we’ll work it out somehow. Let me think on it, okay? There must be a way.”

“Denke, Ben.” Josh’s expression lightened. “Anna said I should talk to you, and she was right. She always seems to understand.”

In other words, Anna had been trying to fill the gap he’d left in his little brother’s life. He wanted to resent it, but he couldn’t. Anna had paid him a compliment, in a way. She’d trusted he’d find a way to make this right for Josh. He just hoped her faith wasn’t mistaken.

Chapter Four

Anna sliced through the dough on the cutting board, turning out the homemade noodle squares that Elizabeth would drop into her chicken potpie. They’d been able to come home early today, with few people venturing out into the snow.

Trying to keep her mind on Elizabeth’s voice wasn’t easy when her thoughts were completely absorbed by those moments with Ben out by the paddock the previous day. His laughing face as he’d spun her around had even intruded into her dreams. There, she’d been spinning faster and faster until she flew against him and his arms closed around her.

She had to stop this, now. Benjamin had been so frightened at the thought of marrying her that he’d left his whole world behind. It was hardly likely his feelings had changed now.

“I said, it’s a gut thing no one is due today or tomorrow,” Elizabeth said...or rather, repeated, since it was apparent that Anna hadn’t heard her before.

Focus, Anna ordered herself. “That’s certain sure. We don’t need any women in labor bouncing around trying to get here through the snow.”

Once the snow had decided to start, it hadn’t let up, and there was four inches at least on the ground. They’d have a quiet time of it until the roads were clear, and it always took some time for the township plows to arrive.

Anna rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, trying not to touch anything with her floury fingers. Unless she wanted to go around in a constant state of confusion, she’d have to find a way to show Ben that she didn’t harbor any lingering feelings for him. Then they could be comfortable together, couldn’t they?

“Komm, Anna, tell me what has your forehead so tight? That’s the third time you’ve rubbed it in the past half hour.” Elizabeth stirred down the chicken broth that had come to a boil. “I know when you’re worried.”

But she’d never guess the cause of Anna’s worry, and Anna didn’t dare tell her. “Ach, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about Dora Beachy. I’m concerned that boppli might be arriving sooner than anyone expects.”