Martha had stared at the brick house and thought it sturdy but too big.
“Someday we’ll have children to fill the bedrooms,” he’d told her.
Martha had blushed. That was a lot of bedrooms to fill, and she wasn’t a teenager with years ahead of her to have that many babies.
“Ya do want kinner?” Ike had asked, watching her closely.
Martha had nodded. “I love kinner.” And he’d looked relieved.
“We will be happy together, Martha.” His smile had been warm, and she’d felt loved. But there had been no babies during their time as man and wife.
Ike was a good man. She missed him, but she wondered how their relationship would have fared with no children. She’d been deeply hurt by his change in behavior, as if he’d believed that she’d defied him on purpose by not getting pregnant. As if it hadn’t been Gottes wille.
We married for better or worse. Ike had been an active member of the Amish church. If he’d loved her, her husband would have accepted their marriage and their life together with or without children.
Martha sighed. She had to stop thinking about what should have been instead of what was.
“I will manage,” she murmured as she entered the big empty house alone. Ike had left her a nice nest egg, which would tide her over for several months. If the farm produced well this season, then she would be set for another year. She was glad that the property was paid for and the only thing she needed to be concerned about were life’s basics and whatever she needed to keep up with the farm. She needed to fix the things that Ike had ignored, for she could ignore them no longer. She knew that the Lapp men did carpentry work for the community. She could hire them to do the repair work.
Monday morning, Martha was cleaning the kitchen after breakfast when the Stoltzfus sisters arrived. She’d baked earlier and set out a plate. “Muffins?” she asked.
“We ate before we came,” Meg said. “Perhaps later with tea after we’re done?”
Martha smiled. “I made blueberry, chocolate chip and sweet.”
“I wouldn’t mind one now,” Charlie said. When Meg looked at her, the girl blinked. “What? I didn’t eat much breakfast.”
“Tea, anyone?” Martha asked.
“Nay.” Charlie happily took a bite. “May I have some water?”
“I’ll have a cup of tea.” Nell, the eldest sister, came in from the outside. “I went to check on your animals,” she told Martha. “They look well. Have you given thought to selling any of your baby goats?”
Martha shook her head. “Nay. Do you know someone who is interested?”
“Ja, me.”
“Nell, what will Dat think if you come home with another animal?” Meg asked with a shake of her head.
“He’ll think it a gut idea,” Nell assured her. “Martha, I’d like a female if you’re willing to part with it. Think about it and name your price. Then let me know. Ja?”
“Nell loves animals and is always looking to add to our livestock.” Charlie took a sip from the water Martha had given her and set the glass down.
“I’ll think about it,” Martha said. She owned several goats. She probably could part with one or two.
Katie Lapp and Martha’s sister-in-law Mae arrived next. “I didn’t expect you to come,” Martha said with surprise as she held open the door for them.
Katie smiled as she entered. “We wanted to help.”
Mae followed Katie inside with a pie plate in her arms. “Snitz pie,” she declared.
Martha grinned as she accepted it. “Sounds delicious. Danki, Mae.”
The women dispersed to different rooms to give the house a thorough cleaning. Martha was a good housekeeper, so the work didn’t take long.
When they were done, the women gathered in Martha’s kitchen for refreshments. Martha made tea and coffee and set out the Snitz pie and the plateful of muffins and another dish of homemade cookies. As they ate, they caught up on community news and then left before early afternoon.
Martha needed to buy groceries to fix Wednesday’s food. She decided to make a quick stop on her way to the market to check on her friend Annie.
“Martha, what a pleasant surprise!”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be resting.” She’d brought the last of the Snitz pie and made Annie up a basket of baked goods.
Her friend smiled. “EJ finally fell asleep, and I’ve just put on the tea kettle. Would you like a cup?”
“Nay, I should go so that you can have some quiet time and rest.” The teakettle whistled, and she insisted on making Annie’s tea. “After your baby’s born, I’ll come to help.” She would live to enjoy others’ children since she couldn’t have any of her own.
Annie blinked against tears. “You’re a true friend, Martha. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Gut.” Warmed by their friendship, Martha cut Annie a slice of Snitz pie. “I have a few things to be repaired at the house.”
“How many things?”
Martha grimaced. “A lot.”
“Jacob’s father and bruders are fine carpenters. They built this haus.”
“I remember. I thought about asking them, but I know they’re busy with farmwork. Do you think they’ll agree to take a look when they have time?”
“Ja. I’m sure they will.” She leaned back in her chair and placed a hand on her pregnant belly. “If the others are otherwise engaged, Eli can do your repairs. He takes on extra work wherever he can find it.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of Eli Lapp’s teasing grin. “To save money for his carriage shop,” she murmured.
“Ja. I told you about that, didn’t I?”
Martha nodded. “Would you like me to check on EJ before I go?”
“Would you?” Her friend appeared grateful, and Martha headed upstairs to the child’s bedroom. EJ slept with his legs curled beneath him with his little derriere pointed upward. She could see his sweet face; the little boy looked vulnerable and adorable. And he made Martha long for a baby of her own. She returned to the kitchen and her friend. “He’s still napping.”
“I love to watch him sleep,” Annie admitted. She started to rise.
“Sit,” Martha ordered gently. “You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine.”
But she didn’t look fine to Martha. Annie looked exhausted and uncomfortable, seated at the kitchen table with her eyes closed.
“Shall I get Jacob for you?”
Annie blinked her eyelids open. “Nay, he has too much to do today.” There was love in her gaze and deep affection in her tone.
“Stay home Wednesday, Annie.” Martha filled the dish basin in the sink, then collected her friend’s cups and plates.
“You don’t have to wash those.”
Martha turned to her with raised eyebrows. “Ja, I do. You’ve been a gut friend to me, Annie. It’s the least I can do.” She dried and put away the dishes. When she was done, she saw that her friend had fallen asleep in the kitchen chair.
“Annie,” Martha