Marta and at me with their big eyes.
“We always wear dresses,” the oldest one stated, pointing at my jeans.
Alice said, “Shhh.”
“Sometimes I wear a dress.” I stopped in front of the girls. “To church and things like that.”
“I know,” the older girl said. “You are Englisch. That is what you all do.”
“Never mind Rachael. She likes to practice her English.”
I must have looked puzzled.
Alice responded, “The children learn Pennsylvania Dutch at home. It isn’t until school, usually, that they learn English.”
“Ezra teaches me,” the little girl said and then laughed. She was obviously quite precocious. “Yesterday I learned that the word for kind is ‘child.’ And kinder means ‘children.’”
My heart swooned at the words, two that I remembered from my year of German. But they meant more to me now. They held the English words “kin” and “kind,” yet they meant “child” and “children.”
“That Ezra.” Alice shook her head. “He’s going to be the death of us all.”
A pregnant young woman with hair the same bright shade as Ezra’s, whom I presumed to be Hannah, stepped into the archway between the dining room and living room. She wore a maroon dress and stockings but no shoes. “Hello,” she said to Marta. “I’m glad you found me over here.”
Marta nodded. “How are you, Hannah?”
“Gut. It’s best for Rachael and me to spend most of our time here with the twins, Christy, and Mammi. For all of us.”
Marta nodded again and then introduced me. “Lexie will be working with you today while I stay in the kitchen with Alice and the girls.”
Hannah had a questioning look on her face but didn’t say anything. “I was resting in the spare bedroom,” she said. “Follow me.”
I went through the relationships of the Gundy/Kemp family, at least what I knew so far, as I followed Hannah down the hall. Alice was Nancy’s mother. Nancy’s husband was Benjamin. Their children were Will, Hannah, John, and Ezra. John was married to Sally. Hannah was married to—
“What’s your husband’s name?” I asked as she stopped and motioned me through a door.
“Jonas.”
I stepped into a bedroom. “And he works with your dad too?”
“More for my brother Will. In the greenhouses.”
The room had a single bed in it and a bureau, with no pictures on the wall. “Do you plan to deliver your baby in here?” I asked.
“Oh no,” Hannah said. “This is Will’s house. Our home is next door.”
I continued with the family tree as I pulled the measuring tape and blood pressure cuff from the bag. Rachael belonged to Hannah and Jonas. Christy and the twins to Will and… whom?
The little girls bumped against the door and then entered the room, giggling as they climbed up onto the bed.
“This is Melanie and Matty,” Hannah said.
“Mel and Mat,” Rachael interjected.
I explained to the children that I was going to measure Hannah to see how big the baby was, though I realized about halfway through that the twins couldn’t understand a word I was saying.
“Mel and Mat’s mamm had a boppli inside her,” Rachael said matter-of-factly. “But he died. Ya, Mamm?”
Hannah nodded solemnly.
“And so did their mamm.” Rachael’s eyes were downcast.
I looked at Hannah, hoping she would explain what the child was talking about, but her face was stone still.
Mulling that over, I ran the tape measure up her belly and recorded the number in her chart. Next I wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm. The little girls watched closely as I squeezed the bulb.
“What’s boppli in English?” I asked Rachael.
She sat back on her heels. “Doll?” she asked her mother.
“Baby,” Hannah answered. Rachael nodded and smiled.
Baby. I took Hannah’s blood pressure and recorded it also in her chart. The twins’ mother had died and so had her baby. At first, I thought Rachael meant the baby was stillborn and then the mother died later. But maybe not.
Maybe… I looked at Hannah, an icy coldness washing over me as comprehension crept into my brain.
“Rachael, you three run along now,” Hannah said, sitting up. “We’ll be in shortly.”
The child whispered to Mel and Mat in Pennsylvania Dutch, and they left the room.
“Was the woman Rachael was just talking about Marta’s patient?” I whispered as soon as they were out of hearing range.
She nodded. “You didn’t know?”
“The patient who died recently?”
She nodded again. Afraid my knees would give out, I lowered myself to the edge of the bed, wanting to put my hands to my face.
The woman Rachael was talking about was the patient Marta was charged with killing. I