Amish Christmas Twins. Shelley Shepard Gray

steady on her feet, he ran the faucet in the sink, put a washcloth under it, and then handed it to her.

      The cool, wet fabric soothed her warm skin as well as her nerves. Just as she was about to ask where he wanted to have this conversation, the door creaked open and two dear little faces peered at her. Will had been right; they looked frightened half to death.

      “See?” she said to them. “I’m okay.”

      Jemima just gaped.

      Roy, on the other hand, wrinkled his nose in obvious disbelief. “E.A., I’m sorry, but you don’t look okay at all. You look like you’re gonna get sick again all over the floor.”

      “Don’t say that,” Jemima said.

      “But it’s true.” Roy shifted from one foot to the other. “I mean, don’tcha think?”

      “Jah, but we’re not supposed to tell her that,” Jemima whispered back.

      As queasy as she felt, E.A. couldn’t help but chuckle at their conversation. Will had been right. She wasn’t going to be able to keep this pregnancy a secret any longer. “I think it’s time we had a little talk.”

      “About what?” Roy asked.

      “I’ll let you know that answer in a minute. For now, you two go sit down in the living room, please. I promise that I’ll be right there.”

      Both children waited a minute. It was obvious they were afraid to let her out of their sight.

      “I promise, I’ll be right there,” E.A. continued in a firm voice. “But first, Will is going to help me straighten my kapp.”

      With obvious reluctance, Jemima and Roy backed away before disappearing from sight.

      When she heard their footsteps fade down the hall, she said, “I hope they won’t be too upset.”

      “They won’t. A boppli is a wonderful thing. Wunderbaar.”

      E.A. completely agreed.

      But she also realized that sometimes babies arrived at the most inopportune times. She feared this was one of those instances.

      Chapter 7

      E.A. laughed softly as she finished telling Jemima and Roy the news. “So that, children, is why I was feeling so bad this morning. It wasn’t because I was deathly ill—it’s because I’m going to have a baby.”

      Will reached for his wife’s hand. “I know it’s a surprise, but it was a mighty big surprise for us, too,” he said with a fond look at E.A. “However, I have a feeling that if you take a big breath and give yourselves some time to adjust to the idea, you both are going to feel as delighted as we do.”

      Though everything inside her wanted to kick and rail, Jemima only nodded. “I understand, Mr. Kurtz.”

      “You understand?” Will looked confused . . . and maybe sad, too?

      “Jah.” Remembering her manners, she smiled. “You are right, Mrs. Kurtz. This is gut news. I’m happy for you.” She wasn’t, but she couldn’t really say that. Actually, she couldn’t really do anything but sit there and wish she was somewhere else.

      No, wish that she was back in time, sitting in her old house with her real parents. That’s where she wished she was.

      Beside her, Roy inhaled and exhaled noisily. Then he did it again.

      E.A. looked alarmed. “Roy, what is wrong? Are you sick?”

      “Nee. I’m takin’ deep breaths, just like Will said I should.”

      Both Mr. and Mrs. Kurtz laughed. “I’m glad you’re doing as I asked, but it was just an expression, Roy,” Will said. “I meant that sometimes when God gives you something unexpected, it’s a gut idea to take a moment to reflect on it.”

      “I’m reflectin’ real hard.”

      Roy took another big, deep breath, which was really annoying. “Stop it, Roy,” Jemima said.

      He looked hurt. “But I’m reflecting.”

      “Oh, brother.” He was also being stupid.

      E.A. chuckled. “That’s a mighty gut pun there, Jemima.”

      She smiled, even though she had no idea what a pun was, but right now she didn’t care. “Is that all we needed to talk about, Mrs. Kurtz?”

      Will’s expression fell. “Jah, Jemima. Do you have any questions, though? We can talk about the baby, if you’d like. Or Christmas. We can talk about anything that might be bothering you.”

      She knew that wasn’t true. Neither Will nor E.A. was going to like to hear about anything that she was thinking about. “I don’t have any questions.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes. Can I go to my room now?”

      “Jah, but I thought you were going to help me put together baskets for some of the widows in the area?” E.A. asked.

      “I’ll help you, but, um, I just need to go get something up in my room first.”

      Roy eyed her curiously. “What do you need to get, Jemima?”

      “That’s none of your business,” she snapped. Why couldn’t she just leave the room?

      “Sorry! I was just asking!”

      “I’m older, you know. You don’t have to know everything that I do.”

      “You don’t have to be so snippy, either.”

      “Oh, children. Let’s all calm down,” E.A. said.

      “I am calm. I’m just trying to go to my room! Can’t I leave now? Please?” Tears filled Jemima’s eyes. She turned her head away before anyone else could see.

      But of course they did.

      Will got to his feet. “Roy, let’s go to the mudroom and put on our boots and coats,” he said in a tone that sounded far too chipper. “You can come help me clear off the walkway.”

      Roy practically slid off the couch in his haste to be Will’s helper. “I’m a gut helper, but I’m gonna need gloves, too.”

      “Jah. Of course,” Will said as he rested a hand on her brother’s head. “We’ll get gloves for both of us. Let’s go. If we get our work done fast, we’ll have time to make a snowman, jah?”

      Roy practically started jumping up and down. “Jah. I’m gut at making snowmen, too.”

      As they disappeared from sight, E.A. smiled at Jemima. “I believe that brother of yours is as excited as a puppy in a field of rabbits.”

      The picture E.A. created was a good one, to be sure. But instead of relaxing her, it made Jemima sadder. There was no telling what her next set of foster parents would be like. Would they paint pretty pictures with their words or take the time to encourage her brother? She couldn’t imagine they would be so blessed two times in a row. No, the new foster parents would probably be more like Dan and Shirl.

      As her sense of doom heightened, Jemima got to her feet. She had to get out of the room before she burst into tears. “So, may I?”

      “You may, but may we talk for a moment before you leave?”

      “What do you want to talk about?” Jemima knew she sounded sullen and rather rude, but she didn’t want to talk about the baby anymore. She really didn’t want to pretend to be excited for E.A. and Will.

      No, all she wanted to do was go lie down on her bed, hug her pillow tight, and try not to think about what was going to happen. Her foster parents were going to have their own children; they wouldn’t need Jemima and Roy.

      “If you wouldn’t mind sitting down again,