A Promise of Hope (2 page)

Twin babies.

Two mouths to feed. Two babies for which to care.

Two children without a father.

How would Sarah bear the load? Of course, her family would help her, for it was the Amish way to care for one another. However, raising two children without Peter would be daunting, regardless of help from the extended family.

“Sarah Rose.” Her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “How are you?”

“Gut,”
Sarah whispered, still rubbing her belly.

“Zwillingbopplin.” Mamm
shook her head. “The Lord is
gut.
You are blessed.”

“Am I?” Sarah snorted. The shock seemed to have deflated the blessing from the news.

“Why do you say that?”
Mamm’s
eyes probed Sarah’s.
“Bopplin
are a blessing. Daniel and Rebecca have waited fifteen years to have one of their own.”

Sarah touched
Mamm’s
warm hand.
“Ya,
I know
bopplin
are a blessing. You forget Daniel and Rebecca have each other.” She gazed down at her stomach. “I’m alone. These
bopplin
will have no
dat.
They only have me.”

“You’re not alone. You have your
dat,
me, and the rest of our family. The community will take care of you. We’ll all love and care for you and your
kinner.”

“But it’s not the same.” Sniffing, Sarah wiped a lone tear. “They’ll know love but not their
dat’s
love.”

“You can tell them how much Peter loved them. We have many stories that will make them smile, and you’ll smile again too.” Leaning over,
Mamm
looped her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “You’ll find joy again, Sarah Rose. God will make sure of that.”

Nodding, Sarah wiped her eyes and cleared her throat in an effort to suppress her tears. She had to hold herself together. Dissolving into sobs wouldn’t help the situation.

“When the time is right,”
Mamm
began, “you may marry again.”

“I doubt that.” Sarah shook her head with emphasis. “I don’t think I’ll ever love any man as much as I loved Peter. That only happens once in a lifetime.”

“Sarah Rose.”
Mamm
took Sarah’s hands again. “You’re young. You may love again. Give your burdens up to God, and He’ll see you through. Right now, just concentrate on your
kinner.
It will all come in time, God’s time.”

Sarah breathed deeply, hoping to stop the emotions that threatened. “Maybe someday, but not anytime soon. My heart still belongs to Peter.” She stepped toward the door. “I’m going to go to bed. Good night.”

“Good night.”
Mamm
reached for Sarah’s hand. “Don’t rush yourself, Sarah Rose. God will see you through this. He’s in control.”

Sarah pulled her hand back and opened the screen door.
“Ya,”
she whispered. “Good night.”

Climbing the stairs to her room, Sarah closed the door and lowered herself down onto her bed, hoping to keep the world out. Lying there, she prayed for her family to stop nagging her. She needed room to breathe and figure out her way without their constant unsolicited opinions. She needed strength and guidance to make the right decisions for her twins.

As she moved her gaze to the ceiling, she let go of her breath and finally allowed her tears to flow, her sobs cutting through the painful silence of her bedroom. She opened her heart to God, begging Him to raise Peter as He raised Lazarus. If He’d done it once, why couldn’t He do it again for Sarah, enabling her twins to have the father they needed and deserved?

She wiped her face with a trembling hand and closed her eyes. Why was she forced to live this lonely life? Didn’t she deserve to be blessed with a loving husband and father to her children, like her sisters?

She tried to open her heart to God and beg again for guidance and patience, but her prayers jammed in her throat. Like so many nights in the past five months, she cried herself to sleep.

2

H
ow was your appointment?” Kathryn asked while standing at the counter with Sarah the following morning.

“Gut.”
Sarah nodded and turned her attention to straightening the containers of baked goods before her.

“Just
gut?”
Kathryn moved closer to her. “Is that all?”

Hearing the rustling of skirts, Sarah turned to find Beth Anne and Rebecca standing behind her. Sarah wondered if her mother had already broken the news of her twins. Feeling as though she were backed into a corner, Sarah narrowed her eyes with the suspicion that they were pouncing on her like the stray cats she often found wrestling each other in the barns.

“How was your appointment, Sarah Rose?” Beth Anne asked, folding her arms in front of her apron.

“We hope it was
gut
news.” Rebecca smiled.

“Zwillingbopplin,”
Sarah whispered, self-consciously rubbing her belly.

Her sisters and Rebecca shrieked, pulling her close for a group hug and cooing about how blessed Sarah was. Sarah closed her eyes and wished she could find the joy her sisters felt. She prayed the cold, foreboding feeling currently enveloping her would loosen its grasp on her soul.

The bell signaling a customer’s entrance into the bakery ended the group hug.

“This is wonderful
gut,
Sarah.” Beth Anne’s grin was wide as she stepped back toward the kitchen. “We must talk more when the shop is quiet.”

“Ya.”
Sarah forced a smile.
“Danki.”

“I’m so happy for you.” Rebecca gave Sarah one last squeeze. “Let me know if you need to talk,” she whispered in her ear before heading into the kitchen.

“You don’t look as happy as you should,” Kathryn said under her breath in Pennsylvania
Dietsch
as a customer perused the containers of pastries lining the long counter in front of them.

“It’s a shock,” Sarah said.

“But it seems like something more. What’s weighing on your mind?” her oldest sister asked.

“I don’t think we should speak of it now,” Sarah said, gritting her teeth with annoyance.

Kathryn jammed her hands onto her hips. “They can’t understand us, Sarah Rose. They’re English.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Sarah faced her sister and lowered her eyes. “I’m still processing the news. I’m having
zwillingbopplin,
and my husband is gone.”

“May I please pay for these?” the English woman asked with an unsure smile.

“Of course, ma’am.” Sarah scurried from behind the bakery counter and over to the register by the door. She felt her sister’s judgmental stare while she rang up the pastries and took the woman’s money.

When the sale was complete, Sarah busied herself with arranging the items at the cashier’s station. Feeling watched again, she glanced up to find her older sister studying her.

“You can talk to me,” Kathryn said, her expression warming. “I know you’re scared, but you must remember your family will see you through this.” Kathryn took Sarah’s hand in hers. “We love you, Sarah Rose, and we’ll help you and the
kinner.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears.
“Danki.”
She hoped she wouldn’t cry, not here in public.

“Excuse me, miss?” an English voice asked. “Do you have more whoopie pies?”

Saved by the Englisher!
Sarah blew out a sigh of relief. While Kathryn helped the English woman, Sarah lost herself in organizing the postcard rack in an attempt to calm her anxiety.

Sarah sipped a glass of cool water while gazing out over the field to where her nieces and nephews played at her parents’ house.

Mamm
squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Before you know it, your
kinner
will be out there too.”

“Ya.”
Sarah touched her stomach and forced a smile. “Soon they will.”

The clip-clop of a horse and crunch of buggy wheels on the drive stole Sarah’s attention from her mother. “Who could that be?” she asked as the buggy headed for Dat’s barn.

“I think we have a visitor.” Standing,
Mamm
patted Sarah’s hand. “I’ll get some iced tea.” She stepped toward the door.

Glancing toward the barn, Sarah spotted Norman Zook chatting with her father and her brothers, and she smiled. Norman, who had lost his wife in childbirth a couple of years ago, had become a dear friend since she’d lost Peter. He seemed to be the only person in her church district who truly understood her grief.

Despite her protruding belly, she popped up to her feet and followed her mother through the door to the kitchen where they joined Beth Anne and Kathryn. It was only proper to have dessert when a guest visited.

“Mamm,
do we still have some chocolate-chip cookies or cake left?”

“We have cookies.”
Mamm
reached for a plate of cookies on the counter. “Let me put some on a tray for you.”

“You have a visitor?” Beth Anne asked.

“Ya,
Norman’s here.” Sarah lifted the tray of cookies.

“He’s a
gut
man,” Kathryn said with a smile.

“Ya,”
Beth Anne chimed in, coming to stand beside Kathryn. “He’s a good
dat
too.”

Sarah nodded. “He is, but we’re just friends.”

“Of course you are,”
Mamm
agreed, pulled two glasses from the cabinet. “You two have a lot in common.”

“It’s
gut
to have a friend who understands,” Rebecca said.

A slam yanked Sarah’s attention to her brother, Daniel, standing with Norman by the back door. Norman’s lips formed a tentative smile as his gaze met hers.

“Norman!”
Mamm
padded over to the widower. “It’s
wunderbaar gut
to see you. Would you like to have a glass of iced tea on the porch?”

“Danki.”
Norman nodded. “That would be nice, Elizabeth.” His eyes turned to Sarah. “How are you?”

“Gut.”
She held up the tray. “I hope you like chocolate-chip cookies.”

“My favorite.” He smiled.

Norman followed Daniel through the back door to the porch while
Mamm
grabbed the two glasses of iced tea from the counter. Sarah followed her out to the porch, where Norman sat on a chair next to the swing. His brown eyes met hers and then darted to the field where his children ran around, shrieking and playing with her nieces and nephews.

Sarah placed the tray of cookies on the small table in front of them and gingerly lowered herself into the swing.

“Here’s some fresh-brewed iced tea,”
Mamm
said, handing a glass to Norman. “Would you like a whoopie pie too? We have plenty left from the bakery. We always bring some leftovers home for the
kinner
to enjoy.”

“No,
danki.”
Smiling, Norman rested his hand on his abdomen. “We had a large dinner. I couldn’t eat another crumb.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks, and Sarah relaxed. She appreciated their comfortable friendship. It was nice to not have someone telling her to let go of her grief. Norman understood her better than anyone, including her well-meaning family members.

“It’s a beautiful evening,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Ya.
Beautiful. How was your day?” Sarah watched the youngest of Norman’s four children, Gretchen and Marian, chase her nieces, and she wondered how the two girls were faring without their mother. Her chin trembled at the thought of children without a mother to cuddle and kiss them. His children were as needy without a mother as hers would be without their father.

“Gut,”
he said. “How was yours?”

“Long but
gut.”
She absently rubbed her tummy, and her gaze moved to Norman, who was studying her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, the warmth of his voice reflecting in his brown eyes.

The tenderness in his face caught her off guard, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.
“Gut,”
she whispered. “I’ve been a bit tired, but that’s to be expected.”

“Your
mamm
mentioned you’d been to see the midwife recently.”

“Ya.”
She settled back in the swing.

“And it went well?” he asked.

“Ya.”
She fingered the condensation on her glass. “I’m having
zwillingbopplin,
so I have to see a specialist now.”

“Zwillingbopplin.”
He smiled and pulled on his beard. “What a blessing. The Lord is
gut.”

Sarah glanced down at her belly while her thoughts moved to Peter. How her heart cried for him now. She should be sitting on the porch discussing her pregnancy with him, not Norman.

“You will have your hands full when the
bopplin
arrive,” he said, breaking through her musings.

“Mamm
and I will manage,” she said.

He was silent, and she glanced over to see him gazing at the children again, his mouth forming a thin line instead of the wide smile she’d seen moments ago. She assumed he was remembering the difficult time he’d had adjusting to single parenthood after Leah had died.

She lifted the glass to her dry lips and took a long gulp of the cool water.

While Norman made mundane small talk about the weather and his busy dairy farm, Sarah’s mind turned to Peter and their courtship. She’d met him at a youth gathering when she was nineteen, and she was smitten the moment she laid eyes on his handsome face and gorgeous hazel eyes.

Peter was mysterious, explaining only that he’d been raised by an older Amish couple in Ohio after his parents died in an accident, and he had no siblings. He’d sold his adopted parents’ farm to pay off their debts after they died and then moved to Lancaster when he was eighteen to be closer to his adopted father’s brother, who lived in a neighboring Lancaster County town. After moving to Lancaster County, he had mostly kept to himself.

Sarah knew nothing more about his background, and she’d never met his uncle before Peter died. But it didn’t matter to her. She’d quickly fallen madly in love with Peter.

They’d courted for two years while he gathered enough money to build a small house on her parents’ farm. During that time, Peter went to work in her father’s store, where he impressed her family with his carpentry skills.

Once their small home was built, they’d married. For the first year, Sarah felt as if she were living in a dream. Peter was loving and attentive, and they rarely quarreled. However, their second year of marriage was different. Sarah had wondered if Peter had changed or if she’d finally seen him for who he was—mysterious. She wondered if she’d ever truly known him during their courtship.

“Sarah? Are you all right?”

“Ya.”
Sarah shook her head. “Sorry. I was lost in memories.”

He gave an understanding smile. “Would you like to share them with me?”

“No,
danki.
But I appreciate it. You were saying?” she asked, hoping to bring his focus back to his discussion of his cows. Her memories were too personal to share out loud.

Norman explained the idiosyncrasies of his new cow while Sarah lost herself again in thoughts of her husband and the questions he’d left her.

In the weeks before Peter died, he’d become quiet, standoffish, almost cold to her. She’d tried several times to get him to talk to her and open up, but he was always too busy, rushing off to work or disappearing into the barn. She hadn’t had a chance to uncover what was wrong before he’d died.

Turning her gaze across the field, her eyes fell on the home she and Peter had once shared. Memories crashed down on her like a tidal wave—she could see Peter pulling her by her hand over the threshold the spring after they were married. She remembered the first night they’d sat down to supper in the small kitchen, and she could still smell his musky scent and feel his warm, taut skin as they lay awake in each other’s arms…

“Sarah?”

She jumped, startled. Turning, she found Norman staring at her, his brown eyes full of concern. She flushed and covered her cheeks with her hands.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” He touched her arm.

“Ya.”
Sarah cleared her throat and pushed away the painful memories of Peter.

“You looked as if you’d entered another world.”

Nodding, Sarah stared down at her lap. “I supposed I had. I apologize for not hearing everything you said.” Gazing up, her eyes locked with his, and guilt surged through her soul at the genuine worry shining in his eyes. “It was very rude of me to not listen to you.”

A tentative smile curled Norman’s lips. “You forget I lost
mei fraa.
I understand the pain you feel.”

He leaned in closer, reaching for her and then pulling back. “If you ever need to, Sarah, you can talk to me. I know the pain and the loss you’re facing. It’s not easy. With the Lord’s help, time will heal your wounds.”

Overwhelmed by his kindness, Sarah teared up.
“Danki,
Norman.”

He stood, gazing toward where the children played.
“Ack,
I suppose I should get these
kinner
home. School comes early in the morning.”

“Danki
for visiting.” Sarah began to hoist herself up, and Norman motioned for her to remain seated.

“Please sit. I can find my way to my buggy.” He patted her hand. “You take care. I’ll visit with you soon.”

“I look forward to it.” Sarah cradled her belly while watching Norman gather up his children and say good-bye to her brothers and father. Her mind swirled with thoughts of his friendship. Norman was a kind man, and he was a good father to his children. Maybe someday soon she would feel comfortable enough to tell him how she felt about losing her husband. For now, she would enjoy his company and the easy conversation.