A Mother's Gift Page 11

  Leah had anticipated Jude’s wanting to start a second family, and despite her lack of experience with babies, she was eager to have his child—because she’d figured on having about nine months to prepare herself for motherhood. In the harried hours since the twins had confronted Jude about not being their birth father, Leah had fleetingly wondered if he was unable to father children, considering the long gap between the twins’ births and Stevie’s. That wasn’t a subject she wanted to ask him about, however—and now that baby Betsy had arrived so unexpectedly, they had more immediate issues to deal with.

  The longer Jude gazes at me this way, the less anything else matters, Leah realized as her insides fluttered. Because the love she shared with him was so much more wonderful than what she’d imagined before the wedding, she knew she was truly a blessed woman—even if Alice and Adeline despised her. Jude will know what to do about Betsy. And maybe having a baby in the house will inspire the twins to behave more lovingly. More responsibly.

  “What’s goin’ on? Who’s cryin’ so loud?” Stevie asked hoarsely.

  Leah smiled at him. As he stood in the kitchen doorway, his thick brown hair stuck straight up on one side, and his short flannel pajama pants suggested that he’d grown a lot since someone—probably Margaret—had sewn them for him. “We got a surprise package this morning,” she explained. “The baby’s name is Betsy, and her mamm left her on our porch.”

  Stevie’s eyes widened. “Her mamm just up and left her? In the middle of the night?”

  Leah nodded as she got out the large pot she used to pasteurize her goat’s milk. “It makes me wonder, though, if Betsy’s mamm is Amish, because she drove off in a noisy car. I saw its taillights on the road just as I stepped outside.”

  Alice’s and Adeline’s eyebrows rose as they stepped away from the stove and removed the eyedropper from the boiling water. “Odd,” one of them said, and the other echoed the sentiment.

  Jude watched his daughters’ faces as he continued his walk with Betsy. “Any idea who might’ve been driving the car? One of your friends, maybe?” he asked. “If Jeremiah and I can reach Betsy’s mother—”

  “Not a clue,” Alice insisted.

  “Nobody we know,” Adeline put in quickly. “We’ll get our clothes changed and make breakfast, so we can round up some baby clothes from the neighbors.”

  Stevie appeared fully awake, his face lighting up. “So we get to keep her?” he asked eagerly. “I wanna help take care of her! Can I, Leah? Please, can I?”

  Leah’s heart swelled at the boy’s generous offer before she poured the goat’s milk into the big pot on the stove. “I think that’s a fine idea, Stevie,” she replied softly. “But if we find Betsy’s mother, we might not be keeping her—”

  “Jah, don’t get your heart set on having a little sister,” Adeline warned as she and Alice left the kitchen. “Babies really do belong with their mothers.”

  As Leah exchanged a glance with Jude, she sensed he thought the twins might know more than they were saying. The tone of Adeline’s remark also suggested that she wasn’t keen on having Betsy around—but then, Jude’s girls had displayed a negative attitude about a lot of things.

  “Get your clothes on, Stevie, and we’ll do the barn chores,” Jude suggested. “The work always goes faster when you help me, son.”

  With a grin, Stevie took off through the front room. As his footsteps thundered in the stairwell, Jude approached Leah with Betsy. The baby had stopped crying and was resting comfortably on his broad shoulder. “Want to hold her, Leah?” he asked softly. “The only thing you need to be careful about is supporting her head with your hand—like this.”

  Leah focused on clipping the candy thermometer to the side of her pot, momentarily flummoxed. When she saw how Jude was gently stretching Betsy along his forearm so her tiny head rested in his hand, she knew a new definition of strength. Her husband wasn’t much taller than she was, but he was muscled from working with livestock all his life—she’d watched him hang on to frenzied horses and cows that outweighed him two or three times over, with just a tether and his own powerful grip. Yet he’d never seemed stronger than at this moment, when he held Betsy’s life in his hands.

  “Go ahead and hold her, honey. You won’t drop her.”

  Leah exhaled nervously. Slowly she accepted Betsy, holding her the same way Jude had. “Oh my, she hardly weighs anything, compared to a fawn or a foal,” she murmured.

  Jude stroked Betsy’s forehead, his fingertip following the rim of her knitted cap. “She’s so tiny and innocent,” he whispered, shaking his head sadly. “She knows she’s among strangers, and she might even sense that her mother has abandoned her. It’s up to us to give her our best until we can get to the bottom of her situation. I know she’ll be in gut hands while the girls and I borrow what we’ll need from the neighbors and visit with Jeremiah.”

  Leah’s heart fluttered at the depth of his trust in her. “I—I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all any of us can do,” Jude said, kissing her cheek. “And for all we know, Betsy’s mamm feels she’s done her best by bringing her child here. Life can take some unexpected detours, so we shouldn’t judge a mother who’s desperate enough to entrust her precious child to strangers.”

  Leah thought back to the brief note in the clothesbasket. “What if we’re not strangers? What if Betsy’s mother chose us because she knows us?”

  Jude shrugged. “I can’t think of any women—or young girls—in our church district who’d be in such a predicament. That’s why I want to chat with Jeremiah. Sometimes he learns of these situations through the grapevine of bishops and preachers in other districts hereabouts, and he can put out the word about Betsy with those men, too. The fact that she used the word mamm in her note suggests she’s from a Plain community, even if she drove off in a car. We’ll figure it out.”

  Jude wrapped an arm around Leah and placed his other hand beneath hers, enfolding her and little Betsy with his warmth. “At least that young woman understood the value of bringing her baby to be cared for by a family. No matter what my daughters seem to believe these days, only our love for God matters more than love for our family. I’m a blessed man because you’re my wife, Leah.”

  When Stevie burst into the kitchen, dressed and ready to do chores, Jude placed Betsy in the laundry basket on top of her folded clothes. He slipped into his barn coat, kissed Leah’s cheek, and went outside with his son just as the milk began to bubble and steam.

  Leah watched the thermometer. When the milk had reached one hundred sixty-one degrees and boiled for more than twenty seconds, she removed the pot from the stove. As she was pouring the milk into clean metal canisters, Alice and Adeline returned. Dressed in their matching purple cape dresses and white kapps, they cast wary glances at the baby in the laundry basket before taking a skillet and a large bowl from cabinets near the stove.

  “I still think it’s odd that somebody would drop a baby here,” Adeline remarked with a shake of her head.

  “Jah, who would do that?” Alice asked. She wrinkled her nose. “And who would want to drink goat’s milk? It smells awful.”

  Although Leah once again suspected the twins knew more about this situation than they were telling her, she decided not to press for ideas about who Betsy’s mother might be. “It does smell a little gamy, compared to cow’s milk,” she agreed. “But I know a lot of babies who’ve thrived on it when their mothers couldn’t feed them breast milk. It’ll smell better after it cools.”

  Leah carried the canisters to the sink in the mudroom. She fetched a large bag of ice cubes from the deep freeze and arranged the ice around the canisters so the milk would cool quickly. Betsy was beginning to fuss, and the girls were focused on frying bacon and mixing biscuits, so Leah went to stand beside the laundry basket. The baby’s face was pink and puckered as she let out a squawk. Her flailing limbs were so tiny and thin compared to other infants’ that Leah wondered if the poor thing had been neglected and underfed.
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  “Just pick her up!” Adeline challenged from the stove. “Don’t let her start bawling again.”

  “Jah, she’s a little kid—not a rabid dog that’ll bite you,” Alice chided as she rolled out biscuit dough. “Don’t tell me you’ve never handled a baby.”

  Leah lifted Betsy tentatively and rested the baby against her shoulder. It occurred to her that the girls would’ve been about eleven when Stevie had come along—old enough to help Frieda with his care, even though they showed no interest in this abandoned child. She walked into the mudroom to test the temperature of the goat’s milk, but also to hide her red-faced embarrassment. How did Jude’s girls home in so effortlessly on her weaknesses? Why did they delight in making her feel lacking as a woman—and so unwelcome in their home?

  The milk was at a drinkable temperature, but how much did a baby drink at one time? Lacking a bottle, Leah returned to the kitchen and poured some milk into a cereal bowl. No doubt the twins knew a better way to feed a baby, but they were making a point of ignoring her while they cooked, so she didn’t ask their advice. She picked up the eyedropper, but had second thoughts about using it. What if Betsy sucked hard enough to break the glass?

  Carefully cradling the baby in her arm, Leah took a spoon and a towel from the kitchen drawers and then retreated to the unlit front room and the comfort of Jude’s cozy corduroy recliner. She set the bowl of milk on the nearby table. Why did the simple act of feeding a baby require so much thought and effort?

  You poor thing, having to put up with my clumsiness, Leah thought as she positioned Betsy in the crook of her arm. We both wish your mamm was taking care of you, don’t we?

  When Betsy gazed at her, so tiny and trusting, Leah’s heart melted. Somehow she spooned a small amount of milk into the baby’s mouth without spilling it, and when Betsy gulped it eagerly, Leah kept feeding her slowly and methodically. The aromas of bacon, biscuits, and percolating coffee drifted from the kitchen, but it was Jude’s masculine scent in the chair’s corduroy that kept Leah centered and calm. After a while she heard the mudroom door close behind Jude and Stevie. The daily routine was going on around her, yet Leah sat mesmerized, watching Betsy’s bow-shaped lips and eager swallowing.

  Stevie approached the recliner slowly, his eyes wide. “She was really hungry, huh?” he whispered.

  “Jah, she’s finally slowing down and getting sleepy,” Leah replied. She smiled at the boy as he gazed at the baby’s closing eyes. “Did you wash your hands? We have to be very clean around Betsy.”

  “Jah!” Stevie held up his hands, smiling. His mood grew more serious as he gazed at the baby, who was drifting off in Leah’s arms. “Her mamm left her, just like mine did,” he said sadly, stroking the knit hat. “We gotta take gut care of Betsy and be her family now, ain’t so? She really needs us.”

  Leah blinked back tears. Stevie’s heartfelt words—and the way Betsy was now breathing deeply, so peacefully—convinced her that God had brought this helpless, innocent child to them to soothe their frazzled souls. Just when Leah had been at wit’s end, wondering how to endure Adeline’s and Alice’s disrespect, a baby had arrived to remind them that the members of the Shetler family depended upon one another, just as all of God’s children looked to Him for support and guidance.

  When I’m feeling anxious, God, remind me that You’re in charge and taking care of us, Leah prayed quickly. Bless us all as we try to do what’s best for this precious baby.

  Chapter 11

  Around noon, Jude returned home. His enclosed double buggy, built to hold an entire family, was so full of borrowed baby necessities that Alice and Adeline had to sit facing each other on the back benches, surrounded by boxes and bins. When he parked near the mudroom door, the girls quickly carried armloads of items inside and he followed them with a bassinet.

  “We’ll fix dinner now,” Adeline called out.

  “Jah, you and Leah can figure out where to put all this stuff,” Alice chimed in. “We don’t have a clue where you want it.”

  As Jude passed through the kitchen and into the front room behind his daughters, he was pleased to see Leah seated on the sofa, holding little Betsy in a blanket, with Stevie leaning against her. The boy quickly put a finger to his lips, signaling for their silence.

  The twins stacked their boxes on the floor around the recliner and returned to the kitchen, which gave Jude a moment to drink in the precious sight of his wife and son, both engrossed in the baby who dozed in the cradle of Leah’s bent arm. With her hat off and her thin face framed by a froth of wispy curls, Betsy closely resembled Alice and Adeline when they’d been babies.

  Someday that’ll be my child Leah’s holding, he dared to dream as his heart swelled. If You’ll grant me that one favor, Lord, my life will feel wondrously complete.

  He had no room to complain to God about the fullness of his present life, yet Jude yearned to expand his family—and the serenity that filled the front room lightened his mood, lifted his hopes. He stopped a few feet in front of the sofa. “Looks like I got here just in time with this bassinet,” he whispered. “Shall I put it in the room next to ours?”

  Leah’s expressive eyebrows rose as she watched the twins carry in more plastic bins. “Let’s go upstairs and figure that out,” she said as she scooted to the edge of the couch. “Looks like you came home with quite a haul.”

  “Jah, the neighbors are all buzzing like bees now, wondering who abandoned this wee girl,” he said as he offered her a hand up. “Jeremiah was alarmed to hear that such a desperate mother lives hereabouts—and he has no idea who she might be. Stevie,” he added with a smile for his son, “I’d appreciate it if you’d drive the rig into the stable after it’s emptied out, please.”

  The boy’s eyes lit up, for he loved to drive the short distances Jude let him navigate around the home place. “Jah, I can do that!” he said in a loud whisper.

  Jude gestured for Leah to precede him up the steps with Betsy. When they’d reached the upstairs hallway, he said, “Looks like you three were having a cozy time of it while the girls and I were gone.”

  Leah beamed at him. “Stevie’s already wrapped up in this baby girl,” she said. “He says they have a lot in common, because their mamms have both left them.”

  Jude’s heart lurched, and he had to blink to clear his vision.

  “So your visit with Jeremiah went well? And how’s your mother?”

  Leah’s question brought him out of his momentary sorrow. “I saw firsthand just how accomplished my daughters are at playing charades,” he muttered. “As we sat in the kitchen telling Jeremiah about finding Betsy on the porch, Adeline and Alice were sitting as primly as a pair of schoolgirls in church—as though they knew nothing about sneaking out last night, or defying my orders to stay home. Mamm fell for it,” he added with a sigh. “She remarked how pleased she was to see that the rumors about them hanging out in the pool hall couldn’t possibly be true. The twins just smiled sweetly and went along with Mamm’s bent for looking the other way.”

  Leah’s eyebrows rose. “She didn’t see those bruises on their necks?”

  Jude shook his head as they stepped into the guest room next to the room he shared with Leah. In years past this room had served as a nursery for the twins and then for Stevie until they’d graduated to their own rooms and regular beds. He’d always hoped that someday, another baby would need this room. “Alice and Adeline sat on either side of her, positioning themselves so those marks were on the sides Mamm wasn’t looking at as she chatted with them,” he explained. “They sounded sincerely interested in Betsy’s welfare, and eager to gather the supplies we need for her.”

  “Hmm.” A wide range of emotions played upon Leah’s face. “When you and Stevie were doing the chores, they were a lot more interested in telling me how inept I am with a baby. You could’ve taken Betsy to sleep in the barn and they would’ve been fine with it, as long as she stopped crying.”

  Jude’s eyes closed in regret as he slipped an arm around L
eah. “I’m sorry the girls are treating you so deplorably. I’ll have to have another talk—”

  “Let it go, Jude,” Leah whispered. “They’re not entirely wrong, because I am at a loss when I’m around human babies. But if I let the twins’ rude remarks upset me, they’ll continue talking that way because they’ve found my weakness. If I counter them—or ignore their insults—they’ll tire of trying to get my goat. So to speak.”

  Jude smiled sadly at her humor. Leah was proving to be one of the wisest—and strongest—women he knew. And at this moment, she looked totally comfortable with Betsy dozing on her shoulder. “Jah, but that doesn’t excuse me from setting them straight,” he said softly. “If they’ve allowed those English boys to kiss them so roughly on the neck, I’m concerned about where else they might have bruises . . . and what else they’ve been doing.”

  “Jah, there’s that.” Leah nodded glumly, gazing around the small room. “What if we put the bassinet in the corner of our bedroom? I’d hate for Betsy to wake up all by herself in here and wonder if she’s been abandoned again. Baby animals begin to shut down from stress when they realize they’ve been orphaned, so why should we assume that human babies don’t do the same?”

  Jude hugged her close, kissing Betsy’s soft hair. “God knew what He was doing when He sent Betsy’s mamm here,” he said with a gentle smile. “I’ll bring the bassinet upstairs. While Betsy sleeps, you can decide where to put all those diapers and clothes the neighbor ladies loaned us.”

  He quietly slipped toward the door, and then turned. “By the way, I took the liberty of calling your mother,” he said. “She sounded delighted about coming here for an extended stay to help with Betsy, so I—I hope you don’t mind.”