A Marriage of the Heart (21 page)

She might have gone on if Ezekiel hadn’t led a tall, lanky
Englisch
man into the room.

“Joe, this is Anna and Asa . . . they helped Sarah give birth a couple of hours ago. A little girl this time!” Ezekiel beamed.

“Well, shoot!” Joe exclaimed, whipping off his ball cap to reveal an unruly crop of dark curls. “That makes five, don’t it, Zeke? I’ve got to say that I envy you and the missus.” He gave Ezekiel a back-slapping hug that was returned enthusiastically, then he stretched big, dirt-stained hands to shake with Anna
and Asa. Anna found herself enjoying the open personality of the
Englischer
, who had just plopped himself down at the kitchen table and accepted his mug of coffee as if he’d been there many times.

“How’s the storm looking?” Ezekiel asked. “Anna wants me to take both Sarah and the baby into town tomorrow for a checkup at the hospital.”

Joe laughed. “I’m about as lonesome out there as Santy Claus, and him a day late. It’s bad. But I’ll be glad to come back out and get you folks tomorrow morning when it slows down a bit.”

Ezekiel smiled. “I think it’ll be all right.”

Asa cleared his throat. “Well, actually, Ezekiel, Joe . . . uh . . . Anna’s got to check on one more woman who could deliver this morning. We were thinking of asking maybe to keep the buggy here and to see if Joe might drive us to—” He glanced at Anna, who had a slight smile on her face.

“The Stolises’,” she supplied. “Mary Stolis.”

Asa and Ezekiel groaned aloud in perfect unison.

“What?” Anna and Joe asked at the same time.

Asa sighed. “Mary and Luke Stolis are a nice couple. Everyone in the community mourned when she lost the last baby. The Stolises run a big woodworking shop out of their house and outbuildings. A lot of brothers, sisters—”

“So?” Anna queried.

“It’s Luke’s mother,
Grossmuder
Stolis, who runs the house and kind of makes things difficult for people. She’s . . . older, lost her husband, and she’s kind of stern.”

“Mean,” Ezekiel clarified.

“Got a few relatives like that myself,” Joe commented with a chuckle.

“Well, I’ve dealt with plenty of strong-willed older folks up at Pine Creek,” Anna said, shrugging her shoulders. “She can’t be that bad.”

Again, Asa and Ezekiel looked rather like they’d both eaten a bad pickle.

“Well, I’d sure enough be glad to get you there,” Joe offered. “I know where that big woodworking outfit is, though I can’t promise the lane might not be drifted over.”

“Oh, we’d be so grateful.” Anna clapped her hands.

Joe drained his cup. “All righty then. Let’s get to it. Zeke, tell Sarah congratulations and I’ll swing by again to check on you all when it lightens up.”

Anna went to examine Sarah and the baby once more, then pulled on her boots and cape and grabbed her bag. She felt a renewed energy, though she could tell that Asa was dragging a bit as he adjusted his hat and gloves.

“Be careful. And
danki
again.” Ezekiel shook Asa’s and Joe’s hands and patted Anna’s shoulder, then opened the door to the frigid air once more.

Chapter Four

Anna had never ridden in a dump truck or any kind of truck for that matter, and she was delighted by the new experience. Joe had left the engine running, and he climbed into the driver’s seat while Asa led Anna to the passenger door and then boosted her up to the high seat inside.

She breathed in the heavy scent of the heat that blew from the truck’s vents, feeling drowsiness seep into her with the warmth. Then she’d had to crawl over empty plastic water bottles, potato chip wrappers, and an assortment of tools to get to the middle of the seat.

Joe stuffed as many of the oddities as he could behind the seat as Anna got situated. Asa climbed in beside her, and she found herself squashed between the two men with her bag situated on her lap. Joe turned a knob and the blaring sound of Christmas music faded.

“Sorry for the mess.”

“No problem.” Asa laughed. “You should see the back of my buggy sometimes.”

Anna watched as Joe backed the truck down the lane, a loud beeping sound accompanying the movement. She had to press against the seat as he swung the huge steering wheel, his bony elbows protruding here and there. Then he backed onto the lane and began a slow pace across the treacherous piles of icy snow.

“Did you have a good Christmas, Joe?” Anna asked.

“As good as can be. I went to church—I know you folks are big on that. Then I had dinner at my momma’s and watched some TV.”

How lonely
, Anna thought as she considered all of the family she had.

“Oh,” she murmured.

Joe sighed. “I used to have a wife but she run off. Took the kids with her. It’s not been the same since.”

“I’m so sorry,” Anna said.

“Ah, it’s not so bad. I do have a girlfriend now, but I’m kind of takin’ it slow like. I don’t want to make another mistake like before. You know what I mean?”

Asa cleared his throat. “
Jah
, you are a wise man to be cautious—and a good man, to help Ezekiel and us too.”

Anna considered Asa’s use of the word
cautious
, but Joe had resumed talking.

“I like your kind, the Amish. You seem—real to me. That matters.”

“Thank you,” Asa replied with quiet sincerity.

Joe adjusted the plow, then whistled for a few seconds. “So, you folks got kids of your own?”

Anna spluttered at Joe’s assumption that they were married.

“Uh . . . no . . . we—”

Joe grinned. “Well, they’ll come along, right as rain. Happens that way, you know.” He resumed whistling, and Anna couldn’t find the voice to correct him. She noticed Asa’s silence as well and tried to ignore the warm press of his body against her side.

“Okay,” Joe announced after a few long minutes, slowing the vehicle. “I think this is it.” He began to turn cautiously into the lane but soon shook his head in frustration.

“Their lane’s a lot narrower than Zeke’s and the drifts are huge. I wish I could get you a bit closer.” Joe tugged on his ball cap and stared out at the blinding white illuminated by the headlights of the vehicle. “I can’t take a risk going off the lane; I’d never get her out. I don’t know if you should try and walk it.”

“We’ll get through,” Asa said. “Thank you very much.”

“I’ll keep the lights on high’til I see that you’re near the house, but you’d better move fast. Those drifts look chest deep in some places.”

“Thank you.” Anna smiled, laying her hand on Joe’s arm as Asa lifted the large latch on the door and swung it open, letting in a blast of cold air and a heavy fall of snow onto the vinyl seat. Anna tried to brush it away.

“Aw, leave it,” Joe said. “Go on now. I’ll keep watch.”

Asa swung her down into the snow, and she was amazed that it reached as high as her waist. The cold engulfed her as Asa closed the door and then took her bag and her arm.

“I’d carry you,” he called over the wind, “but I don’t want to take the chance of dropping you in a drift. Can you make it?”

“
Jah
!” she yelled back as they waded out into the twin beams of the truck’s headlights, which reflected a good distance ahead.

Anna gave vague consideration to how quickly she ceased to feel her feet and then noticed that her heartbeat, after a few slogging steps, began to shift from hard pumping to a slow
lassitude. She tried to concentrate and took deep breaths of the biting snow, then started reciting anatomy facts as the first insidious thoughts of sleep whispered at the back of her consciousness. She shook herself and almost went down in a drift but felt strong hands hauling her back to her feet.

Asa shook her. “Come on,” he called. “We can do this.”

She nodded, but it must not have satisfied him because he shook her again, and this time she felt her teeth rattle.

“Anna Stolis!” he yelled. “I am not going in this house, where that wiry old woman lives, to deliver a baby alone! I don’t know how—so stay awake!”

“All right,” she snapped, and he dragged her on.

Soon they were out of the reach of the truck’s lights. Anna felt a moment of fear as the snow swirled with blinding force around them, but she found herself remembering that all was light to
Derr Herr
. He knew the way they were going, and he’d apparently revealed it to Asa as she felt herself yanked along. Soaked to her neck, she staggered, then came to an abrupt halt when she ran into Asa’s broad back.

“Are we lost?” she yelled.

“No—clothesline.” He reached above his head, and she had to laugh at the thought of Asa getting clotheslined by a diligent housewife in the middle of a blizzard. A few steps more, and Anna saw the reassuring bulk of the house. From a distance, they heard Joe honk his horn as he pulled away, and Asa pounded on the door where only a dim light shone from the inside. Again, Anna hoped she’d not brought them on some fool’s errand in the small hours of the night, but the door opened with abruptness.

They staggered into a large, dim living room and Anna tried to steady her breathing. She wiped the wet snow from her face, and it became apparent that, although few lights burned, the room held three women who stared at Anna and Asa as though they were apparitions.

Asa spoke first. “It’s Asa Mast and
Frau
Ruth’s niece, Anna Stolis. We thought we’d come check on Mary . . .” He trailed off when no one responded. Only Anna’s deep intakes of breath could be heard.

Then the oldest woman gave a crack of harsh laughter. “The clock says close to four a.m., and there’s a blizzard. Are you drunk or just fools?”

Anna felt Asa stiffen beside her but decided it was a fair, albeit rude, question.

“Neither, ma’am,” she said politely, coughing a bit and trying to reach the snow that trailed down her neck with a discreet hand. “I felt a responsibility to
Aenti
Ruth to check on all of her possible deliveries tonight, especially because of the storm, to make sure all was going well.”

“Well, all is not well, missy. Luke Stolis is in bed with the flu, as are his brothers, two of the children, and my two sisters. The rest of us, myself and my two daughters, are just sitting here waiting to get it.”

“
Grossmuder
Stolis,” Asa said with resignation. “I’m sorry you’re going through this; my
daed
is down with it too.”

“
Humph
—time was nothing could get Samuel Mast down. He’s getting old.”

Anna heard the small rumble that escaped Asa’s lips and ignored the steady drip from her freezing nose.

“Please excuse me, Mrs. Stolis, but you didn’t mention your daughter-in-law, Mary. Is she feeling well?”

“Who are you?” The old woman leaned forward with an ominous creak from her rocker.

“Anna Stolis, from Pine Creek. As Asa said, I’m Ruth Stolis’s niece and have taken over her midwifery duties for this night.”

“Pine Creek, hmm? No relation that I can think of just now.”

Anna sneezed, and Asa made an impatient gesture with his arm. “We are soaked and freezing. How is Mary?”

Anna felt his frustration but clung to her diplomacy, not wanting to alienate one of
Aenti
Ruth’s patients’ family members. But she needed to know how the pregnant woman felt so they could march with good conscience back out into the freezing cold.

“Mrs. Stolis, I’ve been practicing midwifery successfully for the past two years in Pine Creek, and
Aenti
Ruth briefed me on Mary’s last pregnancy. I’m sorry that she lost the child.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for in the will of
Derr Herr
.”

Anna did a mental count to ten and tried to wriggle her toes. She knew she had to get past the older woman, but her patience was running out.

“Of course the Lord’s will is best, but we’ve come far tonight. Could you just tell me that Mary is doing well?”

A woman sniffed from the shadows. “As well as can be expected for a body nine months pregnant and in labor.”

Dead silence reigned in the room for all of three seconds, and then Anna’s patience exploded.

“That’s it!” Her voice bounced off the walls, and the two quiet sisters jumped in their chairs. She felt Asa start beside her as well, but she didn’t care. She pulled off her icy gloves with her teeth, letting them fall with wet plops onto the hardwood floor. Her cape, scarf, bonnet, and boots followed in quick succession, building an inelegant, dripping pile. She hopped gracelessly from one foot to the other as she peeled off her soaking knee socks, flinging them backward to splat low against the wall. Then she grabbed her snow-covered bag from Asa’s hands.

Anna stepped forward into the gloomy room and caught up a lantern from a side table, turning it to its highest flame, then setting it back down with a thump. Her gaze swept the room until it came to rest on the older, black-eyed woman sitting in full Amish church-meeting dress, who was regarding them without emotion. Anna swept toward her, ignoring the two other women, and moved to drop her bag on the floor in front of the matriarch.

Anna caught the arms of the rocking chair and knelt to give an even glare into the dark eyes. “Now let me make myself clear, Mrs. Stolis. I don’t care who you are or who you think you are in this family, but—as
Derr Herr
wills—this baby will not die under my watch. So unbend your stiff neck for two minutes and take me to Mary, or I’ll search every room myself.”

There was an infinitesimal pause.

“You’re not married, are you?” Mrs. Stolis asked.

Anna would have given the chair, possibly even the grandmother herself, a good shake had she not heard Asa’s sudden choked laughter.

She whirled to shoot him an accusing glance, but he held up a placating hand.

“What,” Anna snapped, “is so amusing?”

Asa shook his head. “Ask
Grossmuder
Stolis.”

“
Jah
,” the older woman said with what could only be described as suppressed mirth. “No one’s spoken to me like that in a good long time. Not since Henry died. I—I’ve missed it, truth be told. He kept me in line, and I’ve become a shrunken apple without him.” She gave a wry glance at her frozen daughters. “There’s not much fruit on the trees around here. But you, Anna Stolis from Pine Creek, you just gave me the nicest Christmas gift I’ve had in nearly fifteen years.”