The Amish Midwife - By Mindy Starns Clark Page 0,10

might help.

It took James only a few minutes to get to the house, and Sophie was the next to arrive. When she entered the kitchen, he was setting up folding chairs in the living room, and I was running cold water over a cloth.

“How are you?” she asked, patting me gently on the back.

“Okay,” I lied, turning off the faucet and wringing out the cloth over the sink.

“I know this is bad timing on my part,” she said, dropping her hand and lowering her voice, “but I want to touch base with you before the others arrive. It’s about last night’s discussion.”

I turned toward her, trying to recall which conversation she meant.

“About you getting away,” she added.

Oh, that. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and laid the cloth across them.

“I was talking nonsense last night,” I said, grateful for the coolness against my swollen eyelids. “I have to get back to work, not to mention I need to figure out what to do with the house and land. I’ll be so busy—”

“Sounds pretty convenient to me,” Sophie interrupted.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you, Lexie. You’re the kind of person who makes things happen. You would figure out a way to do this if you really wanted to.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Why, go east and pursue the matter of your birth family, of course. Try and find them. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

She was speaking so emphatically that I pulled off the cloth and looked at her.

“Sophie, you and I both know I wasn’t thinking clearly when I brought that stuff up last night,” I said, lowering my voice, not wanting James to overhear our conversation. “Even if I had vacation time left, which I don’t, a search like that would take too long, certainly more than a couple of days.”

She leaned back against the opposite counter, a sudden twinkle in her eyes.

“Extend your leave of absence. Then you could take as long as you needed without having to worry about your job.”

“Yeah, right. And what do I live on in the meantime as I’m doing this big search? My good looks? That and a quarter won’t even get me a cup of coffee.”

“You could get a temporary position in Pennsylvania.”

I titled my head, blinking.

“A temporary position? Like through an agency? One of those traveling nurse places?”

“Well, actually I was thinking of something a little less involved. I got a phone call this morning about a friend of a friend who is in trouble, a lay-midwife who might need help. Of course, thanks to our conversation last night, I thought of you immediately.”

“Why me?”

“Because of where this woman just happens to live,” she said. “Pennsylvania.”

Not wanting her to see the sudden surge of hope in my eyes, I again tilted my head back and replaced the cool, damp cloth across my brow, asking what kind of trouble the woman was in and why she needed help.

“It’s complicated and I don’t have all the details,” Sophie replied, “but if you’re interested I’ll make another phone call.”

Was I interested? I wasn’t sure. Certainly, I wouldn’t rule it out—not yet, anyway. Sophie hurried on, adding, “I think it would be a good experience for you. She has an excellent reputation.”

I valued Sophie’s skills, and the home birth scene had taught me a lot, but I was strictly a hospital provider now. I reminded her of that.

“But you’re so gifted,” Sophie said. “Spending some time doing home births again might be just what you need as you work through your grief and pursue your past. Pennsylvania, Lexie. Think about it. Seems almost providential to me.”

For a moment it did to me as well. But then I hesitated, wondering what part of the state this midwife lived in, if it were even anywhere near Philadelphia. Again taking the cloth from my eyes, I looked at Sophie and asked if she knew.

“She’s in Lancaster County. That’s near Philadelphia, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sort of,” I said, thinking of my story, of the quilt I had been wrapped in when I had been given to my parents at the airport. “Lancaster County is what’s considered Amish country.”

“Well, that makes sense then, because this woman is a midwife to the Old Order Amish.”

“You’re kidding,” I said. I didn’t know all that much about the Amish except that they were so conservative they made most Mennonites look positively liberal.

“Well?” Sophie prodded.

I pursed my lips, thinking. The thought of actually going to Pennsylvania was tempting, yes, but I was iffy on