A Kauffman Amish Christmas Collection (14 page)

Now was the time to make things right with her father.

She hoisted herself from the chair and sucked in a breath when pain sliced through her abdomen.

“Annie?” Kellan rose and took her hand in his.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, starting for the door.

He followed her. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t take it anymore. I have to go talk to him.” She passed David and the boys and started toward the back door, where she’d seen her father head. She assumed he had retreated to the barn, his favorite place to read his Bible and think. David opened his mouth to speak to her, but Anna Mae continued past him.

“What good will it do?” Kellan asked.

When she didn’t respond, he took her arm and gently turned her toward him. “Annie, please answer me. I’m worried about you. You look really upset. Won’t talking to your father just make it worse?”

Her voice trembled. “I can’t stand the way he’s ignoring me.” She absently rubbed her back where the pain sizzled. “I need to work this out with him. I have to do it before we go home. If I don’t, then I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,
Kellan.” She touched his cheek. “Don’t you understand that? He’s my dad, the only dad I’ll ever have, and the only living grandfather our child will have.”

Frowning, Kellan sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Okay, then we’ll make a deal. I’ll give you five minutes with him.” He snatched her cloak from the peg on the wall by the door and draped it over her shoulders. “If you’re not back in five, then I’m coming to get you. Understand?”

She nodded, hugging her cloak to her body. “Thank you.”

She gripped the doorknob and trekked out into the blowing snow, stumbling twice on her way to barn. The large, fluffy flakes drenched her cloak and clung to her shawl.

Wrenching open the barn door, Anna Mae trudged into the barn, passing the horse stalls on her way to her father’s workshop. The aroma of animals and leather seeped into her senses.

She spotted her father in the corner, sitting on a bench and reading the Bible. She stood in the doorway and studied him for a moment, her body trembling as the pain in her lower back increased anew. She leaned against the door frame and took a deep breath.

“Daed,”
she began, her voice small like a little girl.
“Daed,”
she repeated with more force.

He looked up at her and his eyes narrowed before cutting back to the Bible.

“
Daed
, I have something I need to say.” She kneaded her lower back with her fingers, hoping to curb some of the discomfort.

He continued reading without acknowledging her. She shivered, absently wondering if the cold was from the temperature of the air in the barn or from his treatment of her.

“Kellan and I came all this way to spend
Grischtdaag
with you,
Mamm
, and everyone else because we want to be a part of the family,” she said. “While I made my choice to build a life with Kellan, I never chose to lose you. I’m still a Beiler by birth, and my child is also a Beiler. You can punish me for not staying Amish, but it’s unfair to punish my innocent
boppli
.”

Her body continued to shake, and the pain from her lower back slithered to her abdomen. She gripped the door frame for balance and took a deep breath.

Her father kept his eyes trained on the Bible.

“Are you going to even look at me?” she asked, her voice small and quiet, squelched by the pain moving down her legs. “I’m a person. I deserve a response.”

He met her gaze and scowled. “You’ve said your piece. Now you may leave.”

“That’s it?” She shook her head in disbelief as angry tears splattered her cheeks. “I came out here in the blizzard to talk to you and all you can do is dismiss me?”

He stood. “If you won’t leave, then I will.” He moved past her and marched out of the barn.

Anna Mae covered her face with her hands and sobbed, the pain increasing in her back and abdomen. A few moments later, she heard Kellan calling her name.

“Annie?” Kellan’s panicked voice echoed through the barn. “Where are you?”

Anna Mae wiped her eyes. “I’m back here,” she said. “By the workshop.”

Kellan jogged toward her. “What’s going on? I saw your dad come back into the house.”

Sobs stole her voice.

He pulled her into his arms. “Are you all right?”

She buried her face in his chest as her tears fell. He rubbed her back.

“That’s it,” he said. “We’re leaving. Now.” He took her hand and led her through the snow toward the SUV. “I’ll go in to let Kathryn know we’re going. You can call her at the bakery next week.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I want to say goodbye to them.”

Pulling the keys from his coat pocket, he hit the unlock button. “You get in the truck, and I’ll go get them.”

“But —”

He opened the passenger door and gestured for her to climb in. “Please, Annie. It will be easier that way. You can say goodbye and then we’ll go to the bed and breakfast and check out.” His eyes softened. “You don’t need this nonsense from your dad. We can spend Christmas Day at home tomorrow and put this mess behind us.” He nodded toward her belly. “We have plenty of good things to look forward to, and that man is not going to steal our joy.”

She sighed with defeat and climbed into the car, and he jogged through the blowing snow into the house.

Kellan marched into the house, rage roaring through his veins.

David glanced over from where he stood with Kathryn and Mary Rose, and his eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re leaving,” Kellan said. He jammed his thumb toward the door. “Anna’s in the car already. Henry upset her, so we’re leaving now. You can go say goodbye to Anna Mae. I need to speak with Mr. Beiler.”

Kathryn and Mary Rose exchanged surprised expressions and then rushed out the front door.

“Where’s your father?” Kellan asked David.

“In the kitchen.” David followed him to the doorway.

Kellan found Henry standing with a glass of water in his hands.

“Mr. Beiler,” Kellan began. “I’d like to have a word with you, man to man, in private.”

Henry placed his glass on the counter and gave Kellan a cold look. “Follow me to the porch.”

Kellan ignored David’s shocked expression and walked with Henry to the enclosed porch, shutting the door behind them.

“What’s this about?” Henry asked, standing by the row of windows with his arms folded across his chest.

“You’ve won,” Kellan said. “We’re leaving.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Henry said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. “I pray that God blesses you with a safe trip home.”

Kellan shook his head and threw his hands up. “I don’t understand you people at all. You claim to be pious Christians, but you’re nothing but a hypocrite.”

Henry shook his head. “I claim to be nothing. We’re all sinners and can only be saved through Christ’s grace. We Amish don’t think we’re better than anyone else. We all are working toward our ultimate salvation. Only God knows
what’s in your heart and if you’ve lived a life that’s worthy of salvation.”

“If you claim that you don’t judge others, then why do you treat your sweet Anna Mae like garbage when she comes to visit you?” Kellan demanded, his voice trembling with swelling anger. “How can you consider that a Christian act that will get you salvation?”

Henry glared at him. “You have no right to judge me.”

“But you’re judging her!” Kellan shook his head. “You’ve got a lot to learn about what it takes to be a Christian. Your daughter is out in the car nursing a broken heart because of the way
you’ve
treated her. She thinks you hate her, and from the way you’ve acted, I’m not certain she’s wrong. You need to rethink your role as bishop because I wouldn’t go to any service that you led. In fact, I don’t know how you sleep at night, Henry Beiler.” Kellan turned to leave.

“You’re wrong,” Henry said, his voice soft. “I don’t hate my daughter.”

“Really?” Kellan gave a sarcastic snort as he faced him. “You’ve got a real backward way of showing your love.” He paused. “I may not be Amish, but I know what it means to be a Christian,” he continued, jamming a finger in his own chest. “I live my life for the glory of God, I love my wife, and I want to raise children who will worship God too. I also know how to show my family that I love them.”

Henry stared at him, his expression softening.

“I’ll leave you with one thought, Mr. Beiler,” Kellan said. “You have a daughter and a future grandchild who may never know you or care to know you. How does that make you feel?”

Turning, Kellan headed back out to the family room, where David stood with an uncomfortable expression. “We’re leaving. I’ll be in touch.” Without waiting for a response, Kellan hurried past the children standing in the family room and out the door to the car. He breathed in a ragged breath hoping to calm his trembling body. A weight had lifted from his shoulders; he’d finally told Henry Beiler what he thought of his hypocritical ways. Now he could focus on what was important: getting his precious Anna Mae home where she belonged.

W
hile she waited in the car, Anna Mae stared out the windshield and took deep breaths. The pain continued to swell, and she bit her bottom lip. She wondered if she should ask Kellan to take her to Lancaster General. However, the pain her father caused in her heart was more overwhelming. She longed to go home and curl up on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Kellan was right: they needed to put this behind them before the baby came. All that mattered was their love, not what her father thought of them.

Coming here was a mistake
.

Why did she ever believe her father would accept her?

I’m such a fool to think I can still be considered a part of the family without being Amish
.

The door creaked open, and Mary Rose leaned in and hugged her. “I wish you would stay,” she whispered. “I hate that you have to leave like this.” She held on for several minutes, and Anna Mae hoped she wouldn’t cry.

Sniffing, Anna Mae forced a smile. “Maybe we’ll come back again someday.”

“Or maybe you can come with David and me when we visit in the spring,” Kathryn said.

“I would love that,” Mary Rose said.
“Ich liebe dich, mei liewe.”

“I love you too,
Mamm
.” Anna Mae squeezed her hand. “Write me.”

Mary Rose stepped back, and Kathryn moved to the car and hugged her. “You be safe. It’s snowing pretty badly.” Kathryn kissed her head. “Call me. I’ll be at the bakery on Monday. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Anna Mae sucked in a breath as more pain flared in her back.

“Was iss letz
?” Mary Rose asked, concern flashing in her eyes.

“Nothing.” Anna Mae tried to force a smile, but her lips formed a grimace. “You get back inside. It’s bitter cold, and the snow is soaking your cloaks.” She squeezed their hands. “I love you both. I’ll write you as soon as we get home.”

Kellan loped over to the car, his expression serious as if he was pondering something.

Kathryn and Mary Rose both hugged Kellan before hurrying back through the snow. Kellan climbed into the driver’s seat and jammed the key into the ignition, bringing the SUV to life.

Anna Mae turned her head and watched her mother and Kathryn disappear into the house while fresh tears filled her eyes. She hoped she would see them again soon under better circumstances.

As the truck eased down the driveway toward the road, Anna Mae sucked in a breath. She rubbed her belly with one hand and her back with the other. The sky was pure white, and the large, fluffy flakes kept the windshield wipers working
non-stop,
sshhing
back and forth but never making any progress keeping the windshield clear before another batch of snowflakes caked the glass.

Driving in silence, Kellan steered onto the road and the SUV slid sideways. He eased off the gas and slowly continued down the road.

They drove in silence for several miles, and Anna Mae closed her eyes, praying that the pain would subside. However, it increased, and she began to wonder if she was in labor. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words formed. Turning to Kellan, she found his eyes trained on the road, deep in thought.

“When your mom gave me a hug, she whispered in my ear that I should take good care of you,” Kellan said, flipping on the defroster. “I find it truly amazing that your mom is so focused on you and so willing to accept you in her life, but your dad is all about the rules. Was he always like that when you were growing up? Was he ever warm to you?”

Anna Mae took short, ragged breaths as more pain surged through her. Suddenly, she felt wetness between her legs, and she gasped.

“Annie?” Kellan jammed on the brakes, and the SUV slid sideways down the road, slamming into a snowbank, throwing Anna Mae forward in the seat.

“Oh no,” he said. “This can’t be happening. Not now.” He put the SUV in reverse, spinning the tires. The vehicle didn’t move. Muttering under his breath, he tried again, then he turned to her. “I’m sorry, honey, but we’re stuck.” He unfastened his seatbelt and leaned over her. “Annie? Are you all right?”

Anna Mae shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I think my water just broke, and I’m in pain,” she whispered. “Horrible pain. You were right. I guess we should’ve gone to the hospital earlier, but I—” She slammed her eyes shut as another contraction gripped her, stealing her voice.

“Oh, no.” Kellan took her hand and she squeezed it with all her might. “Oh, Annie. I’m so sorry. This is a nightmare.”

Once the contraction stopped she opened her eyes and breathed in and out slowly. “I need to get to the hospital. Kellan, I think I’m really in labor. I need a doctor now.”

He fished his phone from his pocket. Holding it up, he groaned. “No! Not now!” He waved it around, reading the screen. “Stupid cell phone. I thought this company had the best network.”

He turned back to her. “You stay in the car. I’m going to see if I can get a signal outside. If not, then I’m going to start banging on doors and get you some help.”