The Amish Midwife - By Mindy Starns Clark Page 0,86

their heads at the sound of my borrowed car. The field beyond them was plowed and ready to be seeded. I wondered what Alexander would plant.

I didn’t see anyone. I parked in front of the house by a pine tree and then I stepped to the side of the yard. A new scarecrow wearing a man’s shirt, pants, and straw hat was up in the planted garden, most likely to keep the birds from pecking up the just-planted seeds. I stared at the door to Mammi’s daadi haus, wondering if Klara kept it locked all the time, and then past it toward the creek.

I heard a rustling around the corner of the house.

“Hello?” someone called.

I stepped forward. Ada was walking toward me with a hoe in her hand and the sleeves of her dress pushed up to her elbows. A line of clothes danced in the breeze behind her, and the afternoon sun cast their moving shadows on the lawn. Beyond that was a garden. A few more rows had been tilled, and it appeared that Ada was working on finishing the planting.

“Oh, it’s you.” She smiled, her body relaxed and easy. The loose ties of her bonnet fell against her chest. I stared at her, trying to take in each feature. “Have you lost your way again?” she asked.

I shook my head, my heart racing. “No. I was hoping to see you—and Mammi, if she’s awake.”

“You know my grandmother?”

“No.” I paused. “Well, sort of.”

“She’s not here. My parents took her to the doctor.”

I imagined them lifting, pushing, and pulling the old woman into their carriage.

“Does she go to the doctor very often?”

Ada nodded. “Some.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She had a stroke a few years ago.”

That made sense. I didn’t notice any evidence when I saw her the other night, but I only saw her profile. Or it could be that there wasn’t any physical evidence.

“Mamm said you’re working as a midwife here for a short time.”

I crossed my arms, surprised that Klara had offered her that much information.

“Did she say who I’m working with?”

“No.”

“Marta. I’m working with Marta and staying with her and her kids.”

“Oh.” Ada stepped toward me. She seemed so open. “How are they? I haven’t seen them in…” Her voice trailed off. “It’s been forever.” She smiled. “At least I think that’s how Ella would phrase it.”

“I’m their cousin,” I blurted out.

Her face lit up. “On their father’s side?”

I shook my head. “On Marta’s side. I was given up for adoption.”

“Then…you’re my cousin too.”

“It appears that way.”

“I thought we looked alike.” She stepped closer, touching her chin as she did.

I shivered. “Do you have a mirror inside?”

“Of course.”

She led the way into the house, propping the hoe up against the back porch and kicking off her shoes, and then into a bathroom just off the kitchen. We stood side by side. Me in my purple sweatshirt and jeans, her in her blue dress and black apron. I swept my hair up off my shoulders, holding it behind my head. She took off her bonnet.

We had the same tilt to our nose, the same blond hair, and the same chin. Her eyes, brown like mine, were wider, and my eyelashes thicker. Her face was thinner and much paler, and I was a half head taller. She undid her bun and shook out her hair. I let go of mine and it fell to my shoulders again.

“Oh, my,” she said, reaching for my hand. “I guess we are cousins.”

I nodded, but I was pretty sure we were more than that. I was pretty sure Alexander was my father after all.

Which would make Ada my half sister.

TWENTY-TWO

I didn’t say anything to Ada about my suspicion that her father might be mine as well. Her life seemed far too sheltered for her to learn something like that from me. “Yep, cousins it is,” I said, smiling at her in the mirror.

Funny thing was, even though I was trying so hard, my face looked sad while hers was full of joy.

“Another cousin! Closer to my age.” She turned toward me, put her hands on my shoulders, and jumped up and down. I didn’t remember anyone ever showing me they were that happy to know who I was. I’m sure Mama and Dad were, way back when I was a baby, and they might have jumped up and down on the inside, but I was pretty sure no one had ever acted about me the way Ada was now. “First cousins? Right? You