his tongue to the horse, the buggy rolled down the dirt lane in between closely packed graves. Once they reached the county road, she said softly, “I don’t see what harm it would have done to stop by the Fishers’.”
“Not a matter of harm,
fraa
, but what good would it have served? You got to see the
boppli
to set your mind at ease, but stopping there would only have prolonged your misery. You need to put this delivery out of your mind and concentrate on the hundreds of successful ones. Folk die. It’s part of life. We might not like it, but upsetting yourself isn’t going to bring her back or change a thing.” He clamped his jaw closed the way he always did when he wished a subject dropped.
Abby swallowed down her reply. Arguing with her husband wouldn’t help matters, and he was probably right. It just didn’t seem so at the moment. She nodded and Daniel slapped the reins against the horse’s back to pick up the pace.
On the way home she concentrated on the green hayfields waiting to be cut and the knee-high stalks of corn standing in neat rows. Sunlight sparkled off the clear blue water of ponds, while hawks wheeled on wind currents overhead, watching for tasty prey to make their lunch. Daniel’s idea about focusing on the hundreds of successful births made sense. She would remember Ruth in her prayers for many nights to come, but her death shouldn’t cripple her ability to serve her community.
“Do we have any leftovers in the fridge?” Daniel’s question broke the long silence. “All that talk about food made me hungry. I’d better eat something before heading to the fields.” He glanced over at her and they both burst out laughing.
“You’re the one who passed up a free meal, Mr. Graber. Now you’re probably stuck with a bowl of soup or a ham sandwich.” She tugged the sleeve of his coat.
“Serves me right for not listening to my smart
fraa
.” He offered a wink as he shrugged out of his coat. With their farm in sight, he would forgo his proper appearance.
“Good gracious, what is going on?” Abby’s attention had focused on a vehicle in their driveway. The sheriff’s cruiser was parked near their barn; its red and blue lights still spinning as the car idled.
“Git up there, Sam!” Daniel slapped the reins once more. “What on earth could the sheriff want at our farm?”
An icy chill pooled in Abby’s belly. “Oh my. I hope nothing’s happened to the
kinner
.” She jumped down before Daniel brought the buggy to a stop and ran toward the cruiser. She saw no one inside or near the vehicle. With her heart slamming against her ribcage, she ran to the barn door and nearly collided with the exiting sheriff and his deputy.
“Easy there, ma’am. No need to knock us down.”
Abby stepped back with fear and confusion. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to my children? They were supposed to be next door at my neighbor’s.” Her voice sounded strangled.
“Your children are fine as far as I know. They’re not why we’re here.” The man swept off his wide-brimmed beige hat and focused on Daniel. He was hurrying toward them with the horse still harnessed to the buggy.
Abby wrung her hands, casting glances between her husband and the sheriff.
The large man, with his belly straining the buttons of his shirt and noonday stubble darkening his chin, cleared his throat. He looked about as comfortable as she felt.
“Ma’am, are you Mrs. Abigail Graber, the midwife of this here Amish community?” He’d assumed a formal tone of voice.
The bottom fell from her stomach, and she suddenly felt weak in the knees. “I am. I’m Abby Graber.”
Daniel dropped the reins and walked to her side. His arm protectively encircled her shoulders. “What’s this about, officer?”
“I’m afraid a warrant has been issued for your arrest, Mrs. Graber.” The sheriff set his hat back on, while his deputy shuffled his boot heels in the dirt.
Abby gasped. She tried to speak, but words
“Not a matter of harm,
fraa
, but what good would it have served? You got to see the
boppli
to set your mind at ease, but stopping there would only have prolonged your misery. You need to put this delivery out of your mind and concentrate on the hundreds of successful ones. Folk die. It’s part of life. We might not like it, but upsetting yourself isn’t going to bring her back or change a thing.” He clamped his jaw closed the way he always did when he wished a subject dropped.
Abby swallowed down her reply. Arguing with her husband wouldn’t help matters, and he was probably right. It just didn’t seem so at the moment. She nodded and Daniel slapped the reins against the horse’s back to pick up the pace.
On the way home she concentrated on the green hayfields waiting to be cut and the knee-high stalks of corn standing in neat rows. Sunlight sparkled off the clear blue water of ponds, while hawks wheeled on wind currents overhead, watching for tasty prey to make their lunch. Daniel’s idea about focusing on the hundreds of successful births made sense. She would remember Ruth in her prayers for many nights to come, but her death shouldn’t cripple her ability to serve her community.
“Do we have any leftovers in the fridge?” Daniel’s question broke the long silence. “All that talk about food made me hungry. I’d better eat something before heading to the fields.” He glanced over at her and they both burst out laughing.
“You’re the one who passed up a free meal, Mr. Graber. Now you’re probably stuck with a bowl of soup or a ham sandwich.” She tugged the sleeve of his coat.
“Serves me right for not listening to my smart
fraa
.” He offered a wink as he shrugged out of his coat. With their farm in sight, he would forgo his proper appearance.
“Good gracious, what is going on?” Abby’s attention had focused on a vehicle in their driveway. The sheriff’s cruiser was parked near their barn; its red and blue lights still spinning as the car idled.
“Git up there, Sam!” Daniel slapped the reins once more. “What on earth could the sheriff want at our farm?”
An icy chill pooled in Abby’s belly. “Oh my. I hope nothing’s happened to the
kinner
.” She jumped down before Daniel brought the buggy to a stop and ran toward the cruiser. She saw no one inside or near the vehicle. With her heart slamming against her ribcage, she ran to the barn door and nearly collided with the exiting sheriff and his deputy.
“Easy there, ma’am. No need to knock us down.”
Abby stepped back with fear and confusion. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to my children? They were supposed to be next door at my neighbor’s.” Her voice sounded strangled.
“Your children are fine as far as I know. They’re not why we’re here.” The man swept off his wide-brimmed beige hat and focused on Daniel. He was hurrying toward them with the horse still harnessed to the buggy.
Abby wrung her hands, casting glances between her husband and the sheriff.
The large man, with his belly straining the buttons of his shirt and noonday stubble darkening his chin, cleared his throat. He looked about as comfortable as she felt.
“Ma’am, are you Mrs. Abigail Graber, the midwife of this here Amish community?” He’d assumed a formal tone of voice.
The bottom fell from her stomach, and she suddenly felt weak in the knees. “I am. I’m Abby Graber.”
Daniel dropped the reins and walked to her side. His arm protectively encircled her shoulders. “What’s this about, officer?”
“I’m afraid a warrant has been issued for your arrest, Mrs. Graber.” The sheriff set his hat back on, while his deputy shuffled his boot heels in the dirt.
Abby gasped. She tried to speak, but words
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