Amish Baby Lessons Page 2

“At this age, babies are pretty simple creatures,” replied Jane. “Food, clean diapers, close body contact. That’s about it.”

  “I think it’s a woman’s touch too. She didn’t seem too happy to have me hold her.”

  “Maybe you need baby lessons.” She smiled at the thought of teaching this strange man how to care for an infant. Caring for babies came to her so naturally that even this unfamiliar baby lay content in her arms. It was ironic that Gott would grant her the gift of soothing babies, but very little likelihood she would ever have any of her own.

  “Baby lessons. Maybe I do need them—” He interrupted himself, “Look! See that building over there?” He pointed to a large squat brick commercial building with a broad front porch at the town’s crossroad. Colorful cloth swagging swooped between the porch columns, lending the building an air of festivity. “That’s your aunt and uncle’s store. But it’s late, and they’re closed. I’ll take you straight to their house, if you like. It’s not far.”

  “I’m just glad to see horses and buggies again.” She gazed around at the wide, quiet streets arced over by generous shade trees. As they approached the far edge of town, lots gave way to small farms between five and fifteen acres.

  “You said you came from Ohio? Does it have Englischers? How many people live there in your town?”

  “I’m guessing Jasper has five thousand people or so.” She shoved her glasses up her nose. “Ohio is pretty crowded. This town seems smaller and more rural. I like seeing all these small farms. It seems things are spread out a bit more here in Indiana.”

  “Grand Creek has about two thousand people. I live on the outskirts, that way.” He gestured. “Near your aunt and uncle.”

  “And you live by yourself?”

  “Ja. I, uh... I do now.”

  Jane noticed his hesitation. Was he referencing his sister? She wondered at the secrecy.

  Yet it was none of her business. She was here to heal, to work, to be useful—not to get involved in a stranger’s problems. Starting over in a new town was better than stewing in heartbreak and unrequited love.

  Soon a white two-story clapboard house came into view. It was set back from the road and shaded by huge maples, with generous front and back porches. “That’s where you’re going.” Levy pointed. “There’s your uncle in the yard, mowing the grass.”

  She peered through the late-afternoon sunshine and saw her uncle’s light blue shirt. His hair and long beard were grayer than she remembered.

  “I haven’t seen him in years!” Jane couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “The last time I saw Onkel Peter and Tante Catherine was three years ago, when my sister Elizabeth got married.”

  Levy turned the horse into the drive. “Everyone likes them, and their dry-goods mercantile does very well.”

  “Onkel Peter! Onkel Peter!” Jane waved.

  Her uncle paused in his mowing and squinted. “Jane? Child, I thought you were coming by taxi.”

  “I was. Then an Englischer stole my money. This man, Levy, he found me and brought me along.”

  “Ja, I see that.” Her uncle smiled. “Vielen Dank, Levy.”

  “Here, put the baby in the basket.” Levy dragged the lined basket up front.

  Jane laid the infant in the makeshift cradle. The child whimpered. “She might need her diaper changed,” she warned Levy, who looked uncomfortable being in sole charge of the baby once more. Then she jumped out of the buggy and embraced her uncle.

  “Your aunt will be very happy you’re here,” said Peter. “She’s been talking nonstop about your visit.”

  But Jane was watching Levy. “Will you be okay?” she asked him.

  “I’ll be okay.” He clucked to Maggie, the horse. “I hope!”

  Jane heard Mercy’s wailing as he drove away. She shook her head. “He’s in trouble,” she muttered.

  * * *

  Levy tried to ignore little Mercy’s cries from her basket. The familiar tension and sense of helplessness enveloped him, as it had since the baby was metaphorically and literally dumped in his lap.

  In contrast to his incompetence, this unknown woman, Jane Troyer, had an amazing ability when it came to soothing the infant.

  What an odd package she was. Mousy brown hair, large glasses and amazing huge blue eyes. She was not beautiful, but there was something about her that piqued his interest. Her astounding aptitude with Mercy showed a maternal instinct he admired. Certainly she had more instinct than his sister Eliza had.

  He compressed his lips. What was Eliza thinking, to send such a tiny infant to him? Did she think he was qualified to raise his niece, especially after the mess he’d made raising his own sister?

  He hadn’t asked to step into the role of surrogate father to his only sibling. But when his parents were killed in a buggy accident when he was eighteen, he’d thought himself capable of reining in a rebellious twelve-year-old sister.

  He was wrong.

  “Gott, forgive me,” he whispered. Whether he required forgiveness for his thoughts about his sister, or his failure to raise her properly, it was lost in the anxiety of getting Mercy to stop crying.

  He pulled Maggie, the horse, into the small barn and hopped out. Ignoring the squalling infant, he unharnessed the animal, led her into a stall, gave her a brief grooming, fed and watered her and opened the back stall door so she could access the adjacent pasture. Finally he collected the red-faced baby and diaper bag and headed into the house. By the time he sat in the rocking chair and got the baby to take a bottle, he was frazzled and exhausted.

  Why had the young babysitter elected to bail on him today of all days?

  He rocked the infant as she nursed, his thoughts racing through all the work he needed to get done, but couldn’t. His income depended on selling his produce at the farmer’s market, but he couldn’t work if he had to care for Mercy. And if he couldn’t depend on the teenage babysitter if she was going to flake on him when he needed her most. What could he do? He’d have to ask around to see who else might be available. Without finding Mercy a consistent caregiver, he couldn’t work his farm, sell at the farmer’s market, or do anything necessary to earn a living. A baby, he now realized, required almost constant care and attention.

  His thoughts settled on Jane. She said she had a job at the Troyers’ dry-goods store, but he wondered if she would be interested in taking care of Mercy instead.

  It was worth asking her. No, it was worth begging her. He needed help. Now.

  Chapter Two

  Uncle Peter—a little more solid around the middle than last she saw him—picked up her suitcase and led the way into the house. “Sounds like you had quite an adventure.”

  “Ja. I’m glad to be here.” She gazed after Levy’s buggy as his horse trotted away. “But I’m worried about the baby.”

  “So are we. He just got her a few days ago. ” Her uncle walked up the porch steps. “Come inside, your aunt is most anxious to see you.”

  Within moments Jane found herself enveloped in her aunt’s embrace. “Welkom! Welkom!”

  Jane hugged the woman hard and gave her a smacking kiss. “Danke! It’s been so long.”

  Catherine’s smoothed-back hair was still brown, but now laced with gray. Her blue eyes twinkled through the creases on her face. Motherly in the extreme, she insisted Jane sit and have tea and cookies.

  Jane leaned back with a sigh. “Ach, it’s good to be here. I’m grateful for the chance to get out of Jasper.”

  “It was that bad, then?”

  “Nein, but it was getting...lonely. All my friends are married. Most already have babies. Hannah is expecting her first. Mamm thought I was becoming brittle. That’s the term she used, brittle. She said my humor was getting sarcastic, and that would soon turn to bitterness. I had to ask myself, at what point do I give up and realize I have nothing in front of me? Mamm said I needed a c
hange of scenery, so here I am.”

  Uncle Peter patted her hand before reaching for his mug of tea. “You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you wish. With your cousins all out on their own, it will be nice to have a youngie in the house again. In the store too. We’ve been busy so far this summer.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. You’ll have to teach me what to do, of course. My only job experience up to this point has been working with children, mostly babysitting.”

  “You always were gut with babies.” Catherine chuckled. “I wonder if you shouldn’t ask Levy whether he needs help. He’s had a hard time coping, and the youngie he hired isn’t very dependable.”

  “But what about the store? I don’t want to leave you two in the lurch, since you’re being kind enough to give me a place to live.” Jane kept her voice casual. “Where’s the baby’s mother? Levy didn’t go into any details.”

  Catherine exchanged a lightning glance with Peter. “I don’t want to gossip, liebling, so that’s a story you’ll have to get directly from Levy.”

  “I’m a stranger, so I don’t think he’ll tell me. We only just met, after all.”

  “Ja, true.” Peter stroked his beard. “But he’s determined to raise the baby himself, which is causing all sorts of concern among the elders. The bishop tells him he should simply give the boppli to a family to raise.”

  “That makes sense,” said Jane. “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, he won’t do it.”

  Jane raised her eyebrows. “He’s going against the recommendation of the bishop?”

  “Ja.” Peter looked troubled. “The bishop is looking at what’s gut for the baby, but Levy insists his guardianship of the baby is only temporary and his sister will be back soon.”

  “I’m guessing Mercy was born out of wedlock?” It happened sometimes, Jane knew.

  Catherine nodded and her eyes moistened. “We can only assume so. An Englisch woman knocked at Levy’s door a couple days ago, handed him the baby and a note, then disappeared. The note only said the baby was Eliza’s, but she was unable to care for her, so she wanted Levy to raise her since he was the one person she trusted above all others.”

  “Oh my.” Jane whispered the words. “How sad.” No wonder the man was at his wit’s end.

  “I know Levy blames himself for Eliza’s behavior.” Peter spoke into the poignant silence. “It’s hard to watch him suffer, harder still to know what’s happening with Eliza. I remember her as a sweet young woman. But after her parents died, she snapped. She became rebellious and fascinated with the Englisch world. Then one day she was gone. No one knows what happened to her, until suddenly a boppli shows up.”

  “It certainly puts things into perspective,” ventured Jane. “What I left behind is nothing next to what Levy is facing.”

  “Jane.” Catherine put down her mug of tea. “I know you’re upset by what happened back home, when that man—what was his name, Isaac?—married your best friend. But you’re here now. You can have a useful life with us.”

  Useful. Jane was coming to hate that term. It seemed being useful was all she was good for. “Of course, Tante.” Useful, not pretty. Useful, not interesting. Useful, not marriageable. “But I do find it humiliating that Isaac never had eyes for me, only my best friend. Sometimes I get a little mad at Gott for making me so plain.”

  “Liebling, I don’t think you’re plain.” Catherine looked troubled. “Besides, you know Gott sees what’s on the inside, and someday you’ll meet a man who sees that too. Have you prayed?”

  “Of course. But if Gott has answered my prayers, I haven’t noticed yet.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she felt ashamed. Her mother had warned her that her sharp tongue was changing from witty to harsh. “I’m sorry, Tante Catherine.”

  “Gott is bigger than us. I’m sure He understands being angry.”

  A clock chimed over the kitchen sink, and Catherine and Peter both glanced at it.

  “The chores!” her uncle exclaimed. “I have to get to the milking.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Ja, danke. Sometimes I get a little tired of doing the milking all by myself.”

  Jane rose from her seat.

  “I’ll take your suitcase upstairs.” Catherine also stood up. “Go on, get the chores done and I’ll have a nice meal ready when you’re finished.”

  Jane followed her uncle and took a clean bucket from the kitchen counter, then strode behind him toward the small barn behind the house. “How many cows do you have?”

  “Just three now. We’re slowing down. How many does your father keep?”

  “Ten, so milking three won’t take long with both of us.”

  The doe-eyed Jerseys chewed their cud in the shade of a fine maple tree behind the barn. Clipping halters to lead ropes, Jane and her uncle led two of the animals inside and tied them to a rail. With an ease born of experience, she sat on a low crate and wiped down the animal’s udder, then zinged the warm milk into the bucket.

  “So Isaac got married, eh?” Uncle Peter asked as he began milking.

  “Ja.” Jane sighed. “And I’ll admit, I’m angry about it. To be fair, I don’t think he ever knew I loved him. But it hurt when Hannah—my best friend—fell in love with him. It was too hard for me to be around them anymore. I had to leave.”

  “It sounds like you’re angry with your friend Hannah. But no one understands the chemistry of the heart except Gott. Things will work out, schätzchen. Meanwhile, your aunt and I couldn’t be happier to have you staying with us as long as you like.”

  With her forehead pressed against the cow’s flank, she felt the pressure of tears at her uncle’s kindness. “Danke, Onkel Peter. I’ll help out every way I can.”

  “And I hope you’ll have some fun too. There are many activities for the youngies around here. In fact, there’s a barbecue this Friday evening, so you can start getting acquainted with people your age. Who knows, maybe...” He trailed off.

  “Maybe not,” she replied, following her uncle’s unspoken wish that she might meet someone special. “Right now I don’t want to meet anyone. I’d rather work in your store. That’s all.”

  “Your time will come, child.” Her uncle’s words were gentle and teasing.

  Jane felt better. “Ja, I know. Sometimes I just get impatient.” She squeezed out the last few drops of milk. “Do you want me to get the other cow?”

  “Nein, I’ll finish up. You’re probably tired after your journey anyway. Tell your aunt I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Jane released the cow and seized the bucket filled with warm, foamy milk. The early July twilight enveloped her as she walked back to the house. She paused a moment to admire the tidy, widely spaced farmhouses set back from the gravel road with small holdings tucked in back. Crickets chirped from hidden ditches, and robins hopped along lawns and fence posts. She saw the familiar huge gardens and small fields of corn and oats.

  In the large airy kitchen, Aunt Catherine took a bubbling casserole dish out of the oven. The rich smell of cheese filled the air.

  “Macaroni and cheese!” exclaimed Jane. “You remembered!”

  Catherine laughed. “Of course I remembered your favorite dish.”

  Jane knew the cheddar cheese was homemade from the output of the cows she’d helped milk. The top of the dish was crusty with a mixture of breadcrumbs and Parmesan cheese.

  Jane set the bucket of fresh milk on the counter. “Show me around the kitchen so I know where everything is.”

  The spacious kitchen was painted in cheerful shades of sage and cream, with a large, solid table and six upright chairs dominating the center. Streams of evening light poured through the window over the sink. Her aunt opened cupboards and drawers until Jane was familiar with the layout. Uncle Peter came in and set two more buckets of milk on the counter. Catherine stra
ined the milk through a clean cloth, then poured the milk into large jars and put them down in the cool cellar. Jane set the table.

  After a silent blessing, Catherine dished up the food. Jane forked some pasta into her mouth. “Oh, Tante Catherine, no one makes this better than you.”

  Then she paused. From outside, she thought she heard the thin distant wail of a crying baby.

  Peter cocked his head. “Is that...?”

  Jane heard the wail grow louder, then a knock came at the kitchen door. Peter jumped up and answered it.

  Levy stood on the small porch, looking harried. The baby wailed in his arms. “Gut’n owed, Peter,” said Levy politely. “Is your niece in?”

  “Ja. Komm in.” Peter stood aside as Jane rose to her feet.

  Levy stepped into the kitchen. “Gut’n owed, Jane.”

  “Gut’n owed.” She wiped her mouth and put the napkin on the table. “Is there something you need?”

  “I need a nanny.” His words were blunt and held a note of desperation.

  She gaped. The poor man certainly looked stressed beyond belief, and Jane wondered if the infant had stopped crying since she last saw him.

  “You need a nanny?” she parroted. “Now?”

  “Ja, now. This instant. I can’t seem to make her stop crying.”

  More from instinct than anything else, Jane reached for the child and cuddled her. “Shh, liebling, shhh...” She swayed the baby in her arms.

  Within half a minute, the baby calmed down and fell into a peaceful silence.

  She looked up and saw the same stunned expression on Levy’s face he’d worn when she’d quieted the baby at the train station that afternoon.

  He snapped his jaw closed. “How do you do it?” he asked in wonder. “I haven’t been able to soothe her at all.”

  “I’ve always been able to calm babies,” she replied simply. “I used to babysit all the time, and often mothers hired me to help when they had a newborn.”

  “Levy, we’re just sitting down to eat dinner.” Catherine pointed to an empty chair. “Have you eaten? You’re welcome to join us.”