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Authors: Marta Perry

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BOOK: Sarah's Gift
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“That’s it, Molly. You can do it. You could always do anything you set your mind on. Even when you were a tiny girl. Remember when you climbed to the top of the oak tree? No one thought you could do it, but you did.” His arms reddened where Molly gripped them, but his voice stayed calm.

Molly gave a watery chuckle. “You taught me.”

“I did. Maybe I’ll get to teach my little niece or nephew.”

Finally, after what Molly must think was a lifetime of pushing, the baby crowned. “Stop pushing now, Molly,” Sarah said. “Just breathe nice and easy for a moment. The baby is coming out, and I need to ease the way.” She couldn’t help holding her own breath at this point. “Okay, now push.”

Molly groaned with the effort, and the baby’s head slipped through.

“One more push. You can do it.” On her words the baby slid out into her waiting hands, wet and wiggling and full of life. “It’s a boy. You and Jacob have a son, Molly.” The baby’s cry punctuated her words.

Sarah held him for just a second, heart filled with prayers of thanks. And then she put him in Molly’s arms.

This was the moment—that precious moment when the new mother looked at her baby, cradling him close against her, murmuring words of love that only he could hear. This made anything worthwhile, even the cost she might have to pay for her actions.

Aaron bent close, his face filled with awe, and dropped a kiss on his sister’s head. Then he touched the baby’s tiny hand with his large one, so gently. He looked up, meeting Sarah’s gaze, and joy filled her heart to overflowing.

Perhaps there would never be anything more between her and Aaron, but they had shared this wondrous moment together.

 

Sarah
stirred the pot of chicken soup on the stove, inhaling its comforting aroma as it warmed. Molly’s brothers were upstairs with her, staring in wonderment at the new arrival. She’d give them a little time together while she prepared a light meal for Molly.

And she’d had a sudden need to get away from Aaron. That experience of working together to birth Molly’s baby had been too intense, and her feelings for him were so raw that she feared giving herself away with every look, with every word.

A step sounded behind her. She didn’t need to look to know it was Aaron who stood there.

“This will be ready soon.” She stirred, not turning toward him. “Molly probably won’t want much, she’s still so excited, but she should eat something.”

“Ja, she should. She worked hard.”

He moved closer—so close Sarah could feel the warmth of him. She yearned to lean back, to feel his arms close around her. But she couldn’t.

“Does she need me?” She half turned, wooden spoon in her hand.

He shook his head. “I wanted to ask if I should chase the boys out. I don’t want her to tire herself.”

“She’s running on sheer joy, I think. When I take her meal up, I’ll have them leave. Then I think she will settle down and sleep for a bit.”

“She’s fretting over not being able to let Jacob know right away, but there’s nothing we can do about that.” He gestured toward the window and the still-swirling snow. “It might be slacking off a little, but it’s going to be a record-breaker for sure.”

He’d moved a little toward the window as he spoke, and Sarah seemed able to breathe again.

“No way of getting through to the rescue squad, either,” she said. “At least . . . well, I could take the sleigh back to Aunt Emma’s and see if the phone is still working.”

“Someone should, but not you. Molly needs you here. I’ll send Nathan and Benjamin, and they must go soon, before it gets dark. They can tell Emma you’re staying here.”

She must have lifted her eyebrows a little at that, because he smiled.

“I’m being too bossy, ain’t so? That’s what Molly would say, but you are too polite. I mean, will you stay, please, Sarah? Our cousin Katie is to come and help out, but she lives clear over in Columbia County, and with this weather, it’s hard to say when she’ll get here.”

“Ja, of course I’ll stay to help Molly.” Her brothers, well-intentioned though they might be, wouldn’t have the least idea how to care for a new mammi and a newborn boppli. “As long as I can.” She tried to keep her voice from quivering.

Aaron took a hasty step toward her. “You are thinking of the law? Ja, of course you are. But there’s no reason why the police have to know about this. We must tell the truth if asked, but we don’t have to volunteer it.”

“Ach, Aaron, you know Pleasant Valley better than that. With the best intentions in the world, folks can’t keep a secret. And there are some who’d like fine to see the midwife practice closed. Someone will tell.”

“Sarah, you must not come to harm for what you’ve done today.” He clasped both her hands in his. “That would not be right. You didn’t want to break the rules. I can’t let you be hurt because you helped my sister.”

His hands were tight on hers, and she could feel the beat of his pulse. It was like an engine, driving hers, too, so that her heart raced with his.

She looked up at him, knowing she must be giving away her feelings but unable to stop. “It . . . it is gut of you to care about my troubles, but—”

“Not just your troubles, Sarah.” He let go of her hands, but only so that he could cradle her face between his palms. “I care about you. Since the moment I saw you standing alone at the bus station, I’ve known that there was something between us. I love you, Sarah. I must keep you safe.”

Her eyes filled with tears she didn’t want to shed. “Aaron, I . . .” And then she said no more, as his arms went around her and his lips found hers.

The world seemed to spin around her, and then to narrow down to the circle of Aaron’s arms. She heard his breath, listened to the steady beat of his heart. He drew her close into his arms.

“Ach, Sarah,” he murmured. “I want a future with you. Tell me that’s what you want, too.”

“Ja.” She whispered the word, drawing back so that she could see his face. There must be no mistake in what she was about to say. “Aaron, there is something you must know before we can talk of the future. I think . . . I fear that I cannot have children. If I can’t—”

He put his palm gently over her lips. “If you can’t, then that is a sorrow we will bear together.”

She searched his face for any shadow of doubt. There was no trace of condemnation in his eyes—only love.

“If you are sure . . .”

“I am.” He smiled. “Besides, we’ll have plenty of nieces and nephews to love.”

She could let herself believe, and she smiled in response. “Better not mention that to Molly for a few days, at least.”

He nodded, sobering. “About that—we will make the lawyers understand. You called the paramedics. It was no one’s fault they couldn’t get here. It was an emergency.”

Hope flickered faintly. “Maybe they will not blame me.”

“Any sensible person would know you couldn’t risk Molly and the baby dying from lack of care when you were right here.” He stroked her cheek. “They’ll understand you couldn’t do anything else, and you’ll agree to close the practice and this trouble will all be over. You’ll be safe.”

His words sank in slowly. He just assumed that she would bend to the law and give up the midwife practice.

Her heart seemed to chill. Her husband’s love had been conditional on her having a baby. It looked as if Aaron’s love was conditional, too . . . on her giving up the midwife practice.

She took a step back, and his arms dropped. Maybe he knew already what she would say.

“I can’t do that, Aaron. I have to do what is right.”

“Sarah, don’t. You don’t have to fight this. I’m trying to protect you.”

Of course. That was what Aaron did. But he couldn’t protect her this time.

“I know.” Her heart was heavy in her chest. “I know you mean it for the best, Aaron, but I can’t do that. Being a midwife is a gift from God. I can’t give it up without a fight.”

“Isn’t our love a gift from God, too?” He stepped back, not attempting to touch her, and she was grateful for that.

“Ja.” Her voice broke. “A very precious one. But not if I can only have it by giving up what I think is right.”

His face closed. He couldn’t or wouldn’t understand, and she had no more words to explain it to him.

“I will tell the authorities that you saved Molly and the baby by being here. I hope that will be enough.”

She nodded, fighting to hang on to whatever was left of her composure. “Denke, Aaron,” she whispered.

Love was over between them before it had a chance.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

S
arah
wasn’t sure so unlikely a group had ever gathered in Aunt Emma’s living room. She and Aunt Emma sat side by side, facing Bishop Mose and the woman lawyer. Her heart filled with gratitude for her aunt’s presence, but she couldn’t help thinking about the person whose support she longed for.

She hadn’t seen Aaron in two days . . . not since she’d come home once the blocked roads had been cleared and Molly’s cousin had arrived to help. She probably wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon. It was too painful.

“Well, let’s get the worst alternative out of the way first,” the attorney said briskly. “Sarah is not going to jail.”

Sarah let out a breath, so relieved that she was dizzy with it. Aunt Emma squeezed her hand, and Bishop Mose murmured his thanksgiving.

“What happened? I thought . . . the police chief said—” She’d tried to resign herself to face arrest, sure that would follow her disobedience.

“Your friend Aaron Miller was on my doorstep the moment the roads were cleared, I think.” The woman smiled. “He was very convincing. Said that if you hadn’t acted when you did, his sister and her baby might well have died. Is that true?”

“No one could say that for sure.” She couldn’t say less than the truth. “Molly is a healthy young woman. She might have delivered without help, but I am glad she didn’t have to.”

“It’s clear to anyone with a grain of common sense that you did the right thing,” Bishop Mose said, his tone putting him clearly on Sarah’s side. “Bad as that storm was, who knows when help would have gotten there? Not in time, ain’t so?”

She nodded. She’d been half-afraid that the bishop would take her to task for disobedience, but it was obvious he hadn’t considered such a thing.

“That was the convincing argument for the judge,” Ms. Downing said. “I checked with the emergency response office and confirmed that you had called before you went anywhere near Molly Peachey. And I had a statement from the dispatcher.”

Her smile broadened.

“He pointed out that he had three vehicle accidents, four suspected heart attacks, a kidney dialysis patient needing care, and no way to get his rescue trucks anywhere. In his words, ‘Women have been having babies since the beginning to time without paramedics there.’ I repeated that to the judge, and I think it made an impression.”

“Ja, it’s true.” Aunt Emma seemed to lose her awe of the attorney as she spoke. “Sarah has probably delivered far more healthy babies than that young doctor, too.”

“Another good point.” The attorney scribbled a note on the pad in her lap. “In any event, common sense won the day. There will be no arrest, but the hearing has been moved up.” She paused. “It’s on Friday.”

“This Friday?” Sarah managed to get the words out without sounding as panicky as she felt.

The woman nodded. “So we have to move along.” She pulled a camera from her bag. “As I said, I’d like some photos of your birthing rooms, to show that you have a competent operation here.”

“Ja, fine.” Sarah rose. “It’s this way.” She couldn’t prevent a flicker of fear as she led Ms. Downing to the first of the birthing rooms. Would they ever be delivering another baby here?

“Very nice.” The lawyer glanced around, snapping pictures.

Sarah stepped carefully out of the line of her shots. Bishop Mose and Aunt Emma had stayed behind, and she could hear the soft murmur of their voices.

“Will you tell me something?” she asked.

“If I can.” Ms. Downing looked at her expectantly.

“Why did you want to come here? I’m sure you don’t visit all of your clients in their homes.”

“Well, no.” She hesitated, as if framing her answer. “You see, I’ve never represented an Amish client before. Never known all that much about the Amish, in fact. It seemed to me I should see for myself.”

“That is only right. You had no way of knowing I was telling you the truth about what we do here.”

Her lips twitched. “I didn’t really doubt you, Sarah, not when Bishop Mose brought you in. He’s pretty impressive. Somehow you can’t believe he’d ever do anything but what’s right.”

“Ja.” She had to blink back tears. “He is a gut man.”

“And it’s obvious this isn’t some hole-in-the-wall operation.” Her gesture took in the birthing room.

“It is modeled after the birthing center where I worked in Ohio,” Sarah said. “We had a much bigger operation there and a local doctor who worked with us.”

Sheila Downing nodded. “I’ve already spoken with him. He’s not able to travel here for the hearing, but he is sending a statement of his support, both for midwifery in general and for you in particular.”

“That is gut of him.” She paused, trying not to give in to the fear that was her constant companion these days.

“Do we have a chance?”

Ms. Downing leaned against the foot of the bed. “Remember, this is just a hearing to determine whether there’s a case to go to trial. The judge could rule that there isn’t. That would be best from our point of view.”

“Do you think that’s what will happen?”

“Honestly, it’s impossible to say. The law is pretty murky, it seems to me. If the judge feels that way, he’ll be looking for a reason to dismiss the charges. My job is to give him a tool to do that.”

Sarah nodded. “I understand, I think.”

“You know, that’s what your friend asked me, too. I gave him the same answer.”

“My friend?” Her mind was blank.

“Aaron Miller. You have a strong advocate in him.”

Sarah turned away, not wanting the woman to see her face. “He is grateful that I helped his sister.”

But not grateful enough to think her practice worth fighting for. No matter how much she appreciated what Aaron had done in going to the attorney, she couldn’t forget that.

 

Aaron
walked the shoveled path from the shop to the house, consciously trying to force a smile onto his face. Molly was sharp as a whip at reading his moods, and it wouldn’t do to have her guess his feelings.

He’d been trying to keep Sarah out of his thoughts—trying and failing. He’d offered Sarah his love, a life together, and she’d turned him down for a fight she couldn’t win.

He was right. He had to believe that. So why did he feel so wrong?

He glanced up as he approached the steps. Molly stood in the open doorway, holding Baby Jacob in her arms.

“Ach, Molly, what are you doing?” He took the steps quickly, caught her arm, and ushered her back into the warm kitchen. “You should not be going out into the cold. Or the boppli, either.”

“I have to talk to you.” Molly’s eyes were suspiciously bright, as if she hovered on the brink of tears.

Sarah had warned him that Molly might be more easily upset these days. He should be comforting and reassuring. But why did every thought have to lead back to Sarah?

“Komm, now.” He shed his coat, hanging it in the back hall. “You don’t want to catch a cold and greet Jacob with a red nose, do you?”

Molly’s husband should arrive tomorrow, if all went well, and none too soon. She’d been missing him.

“I’m fine, and so is little Jacob. But I have to talk to you.”

“Well, I am here, so you can talk. Where is Katie?”

Why isn’t she keeping you from worrying?
That was what he wanted to say, but he supposed that was an unreasonable expectation, even for their determined cousin.

“Katie is upstairs, changing the bed. She doesn’t have to be coddling me every minute, you know.” Little Jacob wiggled in her arms, making small sounds, and she bounced him gently. “Anna was here.”

“Ja, I saw her buggy.” He lifted the towel that covered the basket on the counter. “Looks like she brought schnitz pies. Better make sure Benjamin doesn’t get his hands on them before supper. You know how he is about dried apples.”

“She also brought news. Sarah’s hearing in front of the judge is on Friday. Friday!” Her voice rose. “Did you know that?”

His heart winced. “I heard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her fingers dug into his arm. “We must do something.”

Calm and reassuring, he reminded himself. “Komm, sit down.” He detached her fingers from his arm and tried to lead her to the rocking chair.

She dug in her heels, refusing to be moved. “Stop talking to me as if I’m a six-year-old.”

Obviously he wasn’t so gut at the calming and reassuring. “I’m sorry.”

A tear spilled over onto her cheek. “No, I’m sorry. But, Aaron, this is serious. Poor Sarah.”

“Ja.” His voice was flat. “I know it is serious.” It was what he’d tried to prevent. If Sarah had listened to him ...

“We have to do something,” Molly insisted. “We must help Sarah.”

He caught her hand, holding it firmly in his. “You must calm down. That is what Sarah would be saying right now.”

“I will calm down when you tell me there is something we can do to help Sarah.”

“Molly ...” She was pummeling his already sore heart. “I have already done what I can. I don’t see what else we can do.”

“Anna says she is going to the hearing, to show Sarah her support. I should go, too.”

“No, that you must not do. You’re not ready to go so far.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Here is Katie, and I know she will agree with me.”

Katie looked from him to Molly’s tear-stained face. “And what is it that I will agree with, Aaron?”

A man could never take Katie’s acceptance of his opinion for granted. Maybe that was why Katie was still unmarried at twenty-five.

“Molly wants to go clear to Lewisburg on Friday to go to a hearing in the Englisch court.”

“Ja, the midwife. I heard about it.” Katie looked thoughtful. “I would like to go, too. But Aaron is right. It is too much for you.” She put her arm around Molly. “We must think of the baby first. That is what your midwife would say, ain’t so?”

Molly nodded, and Aaron could breathe again.

“I’m sure Aaron will go in your place,” Katie added.

Much as he appreciated Katie’s help with Molly, she had hit upon the one thing he couldn’t do. How could he sit in an Englisch court and watch Sarah’s pain, unable to help her?

“I think perhaps Sarah would rather I didn’t go.”

He found himself pinned by two pairs of eyes.

“Ach, Aaron, that is nonsense and you know it,” Molly said. “Do you think I am blind? Sarah cares for you. And you care for her, too. You must help her.”

He seemed to freeze. “There is nothing I can do.” The words choked him. There was nothing.

“Don’t say that.” Molly’s eyes sparked. “Aaron, I thought sure you were over your feelings about midwives.”

“I don’t—”

She thrust the baby toward him, and his arms curved automatically to take little Jacob. “Look at him,” Molly demanded. “We owe his safe arrival to Sarah. I had the birth I wanted thanks to Sarah. Don’t you see?”

He looked down at the soft, warm bundle in his arms. Jacob stretched, yawning. He stared up at Aaron with the wide, unswerving gaze of a newborn. His milky blue eyes seemed focused on Aaron’s face, as if he already knew his onkel and had known him from the moment he entered the world.

For an instant Aaron was back in the upstairs room, looking at Sarah, sharing the joy of the baby’s birth. His heart seemed to twist in his chest, almost as if it were cracking open to let something out. Or maybe to let something in.

That moment . . . how could he think that was wrong, for their Molly to have her babe there, in the room that had always been hers, with those she loved helping her? With the gaze of his tiny nephew on his face, how could he set himself up to judge how women should have their babies?

“Ja.” He said the word softly, tears choking his voice. He put Jacob gently back into his mammi’s arms. “Ja. I must help Sarah. And I think I know how it might be done.”

Sarah
took a last look around the birthing rooms, unable to stop herself even though it hurt. She’d had such high hopes when she’d come here to Pleasant Valley, and opening the birthing rooms had been a confirmation of those hopes.

Now . . . was it all to end today? She grasped the footboard of the bed, closing her eyes.

Father, guide me. I hope I am doing the right thing. I hope I am honoring the gift You gave me. If I am to suffer for that, grant me the courage You gave the martyrs of old.

“Sarah,” Aunt Emma called. “I see Ben’s car coming down the lane. Are you ready?”

She must be ready. She fastened her coat and tied her bonnet strings, then picked up her gloves and walked out of the birthing room, closing the door behind her.

She could hear the car now, too, coming to a stop by the front porch. She crossed the living room and found Aunt Emma in the hall, also wearing her outdoor clothes.

“Aunt Emma? What are you doing?”

“I am going with you.” It was the tone her aunt used when she didn’t want an argument.

Still, Sarah had to try. “You shouldn’t. I mean, I know that Jonas doesn’t want you to go, and I’ll be fine on my own.” Alone. Her heart was heavy in her chest.

“There is no point in arguing, because I am going. My son should know by now that he can’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. He’s only trying to protect you.” Once again her cousin had succeeded in putting his mother’s back up.

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