The Amish Mother. Rebecca Kertz

sensed Lizzie’s presence as he stepped outside. He turned to see her standing in the open doorway. She locked gazes with him. He felt a tightening in his chest before she broke eye contact. The children pushed by her and stood in the yard watching as he continued to the dawdi haus behind his sister.

      “Onkel Zack!” a young voice cried. Zack turned to face his young nephew Jonas. “Do you know how to play baseball?” the boy asked.

      Zack smiled. “Ja, I used to play.” But it had been years ago, when all of his family had been alive and living in the farmhouse.

      “Will you play with us sometime?” Jonas asked with hope in his eyes. “Next visiting Sunday?”

      “Jonas,” he heard Lizzie say softly. “Don’t be pestering your onkel.”

      He didn’t know why, but the woman’s words bothered him. “I’ll play ball with you,” he said, his gaze rising to Lizzie’s face, “come next visiting Sunday.” His tone and words were letting her know that he had no plans to leave the farm anytime soon. When he saw her blanch, he realized that she’d gotten his message, and he suddenly regretted it.

      His attention went to the young boy whose eyes glistened with excitement. Jonas wore a big smile on his face. Zack flashed him a grin. He heard a little catch in someone’s breath and turned to discover that it had been Lizzie.

      He’d come to the farm to see how his brother’s widow and children were managing and to claim his inheritance. If Abraham had been alive, he would have stayed in Ohio, knowing that the farm was in his brother’s capable hands. He would have forgotten that his father had intended him to have the farm. But after learning that Ruth and Abraham were dead, Zack had decided the time had come to step in and take back what was rightfully his. Lizzie Fisher, his brother’s widow, was a stranger to him and no blood relation to his nieces and nephews. He’d decided that he couldn’t allow her to keep his brother’s children or the farm.

      But now, after meeting her and seeing the way Lizzie interacted with the children, he was beginning to rethink the situation. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he’d figure out something. The children loved Lizzie, he realized as he crossed the yard toward the dawdi haus. Somehow he must consider what was in the best interests of the children as well as the farm property.

      Zack sighed as he reached the cottage and held the door open for Esther. He would pray to the Lord that he would choose right for everyone. Complications, he thought. He hadn’t expected this many of them.

       Chapter Four

      Lizzie woke up feeling ill. I overdid it this week, she realized. All the hard work she’d accomplished on the farm these past few days had aggravated her hip, and the resulting pain made her nauseous.

      She’d been sick a lot since Abraham had passed on and she’d felt the stress of managing everything alone. Ever since Zack’s first visit, she’d been afraid. Her fears had intensified after his departure. Now that he was back, she wondered if he was silently making decisions that would impact her life with the children. If he chose to claim the farm, what would happen to them? Could she somehow stop him? Would the fact that he hadn’t come forward before now work in her favor?

      Lizzie frowned. The children were Zack’s family and had the right to live on the farm with him. It was she who had no blood ties. She’d married Abraham, it was true, but for most of their married life, she hadn’t been a real wife...until the night before Abraham’s fatal accident, when they finally had consummated their marriage. Lizzie had been so happy that night because she’d realized then that her husband had begun to care for her as a wife instead of just a housekeeper and babysitter. If Abraham had lived, she thought, we might have had children together.

      Children. Lizzie gasped. I’ve missed one month. She’d missed a month before. Her woman’s flow was often irregular. She wasn’t sure why, but skipping a period happened to her on occasion. Since Abraham’s death, she’d been so busy caring for the children and the farm that she hadn’t noticed until now.

      She rose from bed. It was early; the children were asleep, but it wouldn’t be long before they stirred, ready for breakfast.

      A baby. She would love nothing more than to give birth to Abraham’s child, to have his baby son or daughter. The child would be a legitimate and accepted member of the Fisher family. My child would cement the bond between the Fishers and me.

      Her Amish church community accepted her right to the farm as the children’s stepmother and Abraham’s widow. But did Zack agree?

      Lizzie settled a hand on her abdomen. A baby. She silently counted the days since Abraham’s death. Within the next day or so, she would know for certain. Somehow she just knew she was carrying her late husband’s son or daughter. But she would not tell anyone yet. She would save the news for the right moment. She couldn’t allow herself to become too excited at the prospect until she was sure. But how could she not be hopeful? She would love to give the children a new baby brother or sister to love, the child of their deceased father. Perhaps Mary Ruth and Hannah would finally accept her.

      A door squeaked as if it was being closed carefully. Then she heard the sound of someone moving about in the hall. Lizzie grabbed the flashlight from her bed table and turned it on. She then hurriedly donned a robe over her nightgown before, with light in hand, she peeked into the hall.

      “Anne,” she whispered as the light fell on the child outside her bedroom door. “Are your sisters up?”

      Anne shook her head. The five-year-old wore her nightgown and carried her clothes as if she intended to dress downstairs.

      Lizzie waved her into the room. “Koom. I’ll help you get dressed and do your hair.”

      Annie smiled and hurried into the room that had once belonged to Lizzie and Abraham.

      Lizzie lit an oil lamp, turned off the flashlight and then helped Anne out of her nightgown and into her day clothes. Then she reached for a brush and comb. First, she brushed her daughter’s long golden locks. Then she combed, rolled and pinned the roll against Annie’s head in the Amish way. Lizzie smiled as she worked. She enjoyed fixing the girl’s hair; the simple action of brushing her daughter’s hair soothed her.

      “Why are you up so early?” she asked softly. There was barely a hint of dawn in the eastern sky.

      “I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

      Finished, Lizzie stepped back and turned Anne to face her. “Is something upsetting you?”

      Annie was quiet for a moment. “Mam, will Onkel Zack marry you and stay with us forever?”

      Lizzie froze in shock. “I— Nay, dochter. I don’t know your onkel that well and he doesn’t know me.”

      “But you can get to know and love each other.” Annie gazed at her as Lizzie placed a prayer kapp on the child’s head. “It is possible.”

      Lizzie worded her reply carefully. “I suppose it’s possible, Anne,” she said, pausing before continuing, “but unlikely.”

      “You miss Dat.”

      Lizzie nodded. “Your vadder was a goot man and a wonderful husband.”

      “You didn’t know him well when you married him.”

      Lizzie swallowed before answering. “What gave you that idea?”

      Annie reached up to lovingly pat Lizzie’s cheek. “I heard Mary Ruth and Hannah talking.”

      Lizzie felt dismayed. She could only imagine what the two girls had said. “I was happy to marry your vadder because then his seven children—all of you—became mine. I love you all as if I had given birth to you.”

      “I