The Amish Mother. Rebecca Kertz

      Lydia waved her daughter’s concerns aside. “You’ve shown yourself to be a goot wife and mudder. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

      Stunned, Lizzie could only stare at her. Who was this person and where was her real mam, the mam who’d hurt her, perhaps unintentionally, with words that made Lizzie realize that her disability bothered her mother? She’d never felt as if Mam accepted her. My limp embarrasses Mam. It was obvious to Lizzie that her mother found it easy to love William, Luke, Katie and her eldest married daughter, Susie. But not me—her crippled daughter. Lizzie hadn’t known her mother’s affection during childhood, and she was afraid to hope for it now.

      It wasn’t that her mam wasn’t a kind person, a godly woman who lived by the Ordnung—the rules and religious teachings of the Old Order Amish community. But whether Mam realized it or not, Lizzie felt as though she’d never quite fit in. If not for her brother William, who loved to tease her like he did all of their other siblings, she would have felt completely alone and detached from the family. When her mother had urged her to accept Abraham’s offer of marriage, it had been William who had encouraged her to think about it hard and long and decide for herself what she wanted to do.

      “You’ve lost weight,” her mother said.

      “I’m eating well. I’ve been busy.”

      “Are the children helping out?” Mam asked as she watched Lizzie’s younger children playing in the yard through the window glass.

      Lizzie nodded. “They are goot kinner.”

      “I can come by to help—”

      “I’m fine, Mam, not to worry.” She smiled to take the sting out of the rejection. “We are finding our way together. We just need time.”

      “It’s been two months,” her mother pointed out.

      “Not long since their vadder’s death,” Lizzie insisted. She was glad to see her mother but wished that things would get easier between them. “You said that William was outside?”

      “Ja, he’s talking with Dat and your brooder Luke.”

      “I need to take these to the kitchen,” Lizzie said, referring to the dishes she held. The memory of Joanna and Martha’s conversation still stung. She hesitated, wondering if the two gossiping women were still inside.

      “I’ll take them,” her mother offered surprisingly. “Go. Visit with your father and brooders.”

      After considering her mother’s smiling expression, Lizzie gratefully gave her the plates. “I won’t be long.”

      Esther came in from outside. “Lizzie, I’ve brought the rest of your pie—” She stopped abruptly when she saw the woman at Lizzie’s side.

      Lizzie felt sure that Mam and Esther hadn’t met. Did Esther sense tension in the air between her and her mother?

      Lizzie smiled, but she could tell that her mother was curious; and she didn’t want her mam asking questions. As Zack approached, Lizzie felt her stomach tighten when she saw her mother take a good long look at him.

      “Who’s this?” her mother asked, studying the young man. She frowned. “He looks like—”

      “Mam, this is Zack Fisher, my late husband’s brooder.”

      A gleam of interest entered her mother’s hazel eyes. “You look like him,” she told Zack.

      Zack nodded. “You are Lizzie’s mudder.” He eyed Lizzie and turned back to smile at her mam.

      Mam nodded. “Lydia King,” she introduced herself.

      Afraid of what her mother might say, Lizzie flashed Esther a pleading look.

      “Lizzie, Ezekiel is tired and wants to go home. Perhaps we should leave.” Esther gave Lydia an apologetic smile.

      “Ja, we should go home,” Zack agreed. “We should tell the children to wait in the buggy.” But still he didn’t leave.

      Lydia’s eyes widened. “You’re living at the haus?”

      “They’re staying in the dawdi haus,” Lizzie said, embarrassed by her mother’s question.

      “I see.” The look in her mother’s eyes gave cause for Lizzie’s concern.

      “We should go,” Esther said, and Lizzie sent her a grateful look. “It’s been a long day, and the little ones are tired.”

      Her mother’s expression softened. “They are growing like weeds.”

      Lizzie smiled. “Ja.” Ezekiel entered the house, rubbing his eyes. “Time to leave, Zeke. Where is Jonas?” The little boy gestured outside. “Tell him and Matt and your sisters that we’ll be leaving in a few minutes.” She turned toward her mother. “I’m glad you came,” she said softly. “It is nice to see you.” She regretted that she wouldn’t have time to catch up with her father and brothers, but she needed to go.

      Her mudder nodded. “You’ll come for a visit soon?”

      “We’ll try.” She hesitated. “But I can’t promise.”

      Mam seemed satisfied with her answer.

      Lizzie was conscious of Zack waiting patiently beside her. “I’m coming.”

      He nodded, hesitated. “I’ll wait for you near the buggy.”

      Lizzie watched as he stopped to chat briefly with the gathering of men near the barn before he continued toward their buggy.

      She was startled when a hand settled on her shoulder. She turned and encountered her mother’s gaze. There was concern, caring and something she’d never seen in her expression. Affection.

      “I will see you soon,” Mam said softly.

      Lizzie nodded and then retrieved her empty dishes, before she said goodbye to her parents and siblings. Then she and the children joined Esther and Zack for the journey home.

      * * *

      As he drove home from church services, Zack noted Lizzie’s silence despite the fact that the children loudly chattered about the friends they’d seen, with Esther interjecting the occasional question or comment. He shot his late brother’s widow a glance. She stared out the side window, unaware of his interest. She looked vulnerable, pensive...alone.

      As he turned his attention to the drive, he could still recall every little detail about her. Dressed in royal blue with white cape and apron and white head covering, she was a young, pretty thing. Beautiful, he thought, not just pretty. He immediately thought of her problem hip. Did it pain her often? She never complained if it did, and he respected her for it. He flashed her another look, but he couldn’t gauge her expression.

      Turning his gaze back to the road, he recalled watching his little niece Anne as she’d switched places because she wanted to sit closer to Lizzie during church.

      Things were complicated. He didn’t know why he’d thought he’d be able to return home, walk onto the property and easily assume control. He frowned, unhappy with his own arrogance. He’d taken a lot for granted when he should have known that the Lord often had other plans.

      Since his brother’s death, Lizzie alone had cared for the farm and his children. He was beginning to realize that he couldn’t ask her to leave. It wouldn’t be fair or right since she was his brother’s widow. He would stay to help her, see how well she managed in Abraham’s absence. Lizzie needed help with the harvest. And while the community would come to assist her, there was still much to be done beforehand.

      And what about the farm animals? How could she, a young crippled woman, handle the farm, the animals and his nieces