The Amish Midwife - By Mindy Starns Clark Page 0,33

she said, “He wants to listen to the baby’s heart too.” We followed her down the hall as the front door banged shut. “I already ordered the birth kit you recommended. It arrived last week.” Sally was so small that from behind she looked about the same age as Ruth.

It seemed as if the little house had recently been remodeled, and the scent of fresh paint lingered. The simple molding was all new and unmarred, but as we turned into the bedroom it was obvious that all the furniture was hand-me-downs. An antique bed, barely a double, nearly filled the small room. On the nightstand was a cardboard box, most likely the birthing kit. It would contain a plastic sheet, bed pads, a delivery towel, and other items. Some of Sophie’s clients ordered kits for each of their births, while others gathered the items themselves. I was sure it was the same with the Amish.

As I took Sally’s blood pressure, a young man bounded into the room, his hat in his hand. His hair wasn’t as bright as Ezra’s, but it was definitely red, as was his sparsely grown beard. His brown eyes were cast down, and he nodded shyly to Marta and barely met my eyes as I was introduced. He sat on the edge of the bed beside Sally as she stretched out on the bed. I recorded her blood pressure in her chart. It was 110/80. Perfect.

“Did Ruth come back with you?” Sally asked her husband.

His voice had a lilt to it and was barely audible. “She’s sitting on the porch with Mammi.”

“Most likely spying on Ezra.”

John blushed.

Marta handed me the fetoscope, and I found the baby’s galloping heartbeat. I let John listen first and he grinned. Sally patiently waited her turn and then squeezed her husband’s hand as she listened. Next I measured Sally’s fundal height and recorded it in her chart too. Twenty-five centimeters. For looking so small she was right on target for twenty-four weeks.

John excused himself and said he needed to return to work. Sally sat up, refastened the pins at her waist, and then walked with us out to the porch. “Ruth,” she called. “It’s time to bake our bread.”

The girl waved goodbye to Alice and the twins and skipped across the grass. She smiled at me as she passed.

Alice stood, lifting one of the little girls onto her hip. She had a black cape over her dress now. The sun passed behind a cloud and the air grew chilly.

“Marta,” she said. “Did Will reach you?” The woman’s voice was soft and calm, but something about her tone gave me pause, especially when I noticed Marta’s subtle but distinct reaction, her face paling at the mere mention of the man’s name. “He had a question for you.”

Marta shook her head, her eyes giving away nothing. She opened her mouth to speak, and then she hesitated, handing me her bag and motioning toward her car. Apparently, I was being dismissed just as things were getting interesting.

“I’m seeing Hannah tomorrow,” Marta said to Alice, turning her back to me as I moved away. “Will he be working at the greenhouses?”

“Yes, he should be.”

“Good. I will speak to him then.” Though her words sounded matter-of-fact, the tone of her voice was anything but. “How is Christy doing?”

I walked slowly, listening.

“She’s here today and resting inside,” I thought I heard Alice reply.

Their voices fading out of my hearing range, I gave up and climbed into Marta’s car. I set her bag at my feet, wondering what all of that was about, and stared at the large white house in front of me. The windows were new and energy efficient. Four Adirondack chairs graced the wide front porch. A flat of germaniums sat on the front steps, ready to be planted. One of the twins ran to the edge of the porch and smiled at me. I waved and then made a silly face. She made one back, and we both laughed. A moment later Marta appeared.

She started the car in silence. As she pulled out of the lane, we passed Ezra, who was standing off to the right with a shovel in his hand. Beside him was a small tree ready to be planted. He was still hatless, and the sleeves of his shirt were pushed haphazardly up to his elbows. He caught my eye and grinned, exuding an instant charm. Though I was at least six years older than he, I had the distinct feeling