Amish Christmas Twins. Shelley Shepard Gray
silent conclusion.
“Well, um, Mr. Kurtz didn’t want to hurt the mommy bird,” Jemima said.
“The mommy bird?”
“It was a hen, E.A.,” Will said in an aggrieved tone. “The female turkeys lay eggs, you know.”
“Ah, yes. I believe I heard something about that.”
Just as his cheeks reddened and he looked down at his plate, it had all become so very clear. Her dear husband hadn’t had the heart to shoot their Christmas supper in front of the children.
It made her love him all the more. It was things like this that made her so glad not only that they’d married but also that they’d decided to adopt. He was such a kind man. The perfect man for two children who had already lost so much. She wasn’t sure why the Lord had decided that it was time for her and Will to have a baby now, too, but E.A. figured that He wouldn’t give them anything more than they could handle. Maybe He thought all of them—she, Will, Jemima, and Roy—needed a baby to take care of.
And maybe they did. Caring for a helpless infant would indeed bring them all closer.
At least, E.A. thought it would....
* * *
“I thought you’d have your nose in a book right now, not staring out the window,” Will said as he entered their bedroom two hours later.
After E.A. had gone upstairs to read Jemima and Roy their story and put them down to sleep, Will had gone out to the barn to see to Chip and Dale, their two horses.
E.A. moved over on the mattress so he could sit beside her. “I don’t think I could concentrate on anything right now.”
“Why?” He played with one of the ties at her nightgown collar. “I promise, the kinner had a gut day. And I kept them safe. Neither of them ever left my sight.”
“I didn’t doubt that for a second.” She looked at him fondly. “Actually, I guess I was just thinking about how glad I am to have married you.”
He straightened. “Is that right? What made you think about me?”
“You’re so silly. Of course I would be thinking of you. You’re a wonderful man, Will. So caring of Jemima and Roy.”
“They’re good for me. E.A., when we were walking in the woods, there was a time when I had a child on each side of me. All I could think about was how proud I was that they were mine.”
“Isn’t that something? I had thought it would maybe take months to feel like Jemima and Roy were ours. But I love them already.”
“I do, too. Now I know what it feels like to be a parent. I would do anything I could to help them.”
“I would, too.” She reached for his hand. “I don’t know how we’re going to tell them our news.”
“I know. I was thinking . . . do you suppose maybe we could wait until after Christmas?”
“After Christmas?” She couldn’t help the sound of dismay that was in her voice.
“I know it’s going to be hard on you. I know you want to tell your parents, and you probably aren’t feeling too good, and you’re going to have to be pretending that you are just fine.” He flushed. “You know? Never mind. We can do whatever you’d like.”
“I don’t want them to feel like they aren’t important to us. I can keep the secret, but I want to tell my parents, too. Maybe I can tell them privately.”
“Jah. We can do that.”
He sounded doubtful, though. Was it because he knew her or he knew her parents? Was he worried that they’d spill the secret?
“I’ll make sure that they know they can’t tell anyone.”
“If you tell your family, I’m going to have to tell mine.”
“I know, Will. But I don’t see any way around it.” She looked down at her middle. “Especially since my body already seems to be changing.”
“I didn’t think you would be showing already. Is that normal?”
She chuckled. “I don’t know, but I guess it doesn’t matter if other women experience the same things. That’s what’s been happening to me.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re right, sweetheart. Whatever is happening is the right thing for us.”
She decided right then and there that she would wait a little bit longer before telling anyone else about their news. There was too much at stake.
Chapter 6
Seven days before Christmas
Unfortunately, all of E.A.’s good intentions about keeping the babe a secret flew out the window the next morning. Just as they were getting ready for church, her stomach decided that it didn’t want to keep her breakfast. She barely made it to the bathroom in time.
But unlike the other times she’d gotten sick, her nauseous feelings didn’t dissipate a couple of minutes later. Instead, her stomach was churning so much, she ended up sitting on the bathroom tile with her back against the wall.
“Mrs. Kurtz?” Jemima called out. “Mrs. Kurtz, are you all right?”
E.A. could hear the worry in Jemima’s voice, but she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t lie—and even if she wanted to, she knew a falsehood wouldn’t be believed, anyway. Feeling weak and woozy all over again, she closed her eyes and let out a small moan.
“Mrs. Kurtz? Mrs. Kurtz, do you need some help?” Jemima asked. A few seconds later, she added, “Are you stuck in there? Do you need Mr. Kurtz to help you get out?”
E.A. loved Jemima. She really did. But she was so tired of being called Mrs. Kurtz. Most of the time when she heard the words on Jemima’s tongue, she felt a little sad.
But today, those words felt like little jabs to her heart. When was the girl ever going to learn to trust her? She moaned again.
A couple of seconds later, Will rapped on the door. “Elizabeth Anne, you need to talk to us, please. Everyone out here is getting pretty worried.”
Summoning up what she hoped was a cheery tone, she said, “I’m sorry. Jemima, please don’t worry. I’m a little sick, but that’s all. I’m sure I’ll feel better in a few minutes.” A few very long minutes.
“You’re sick?” Roy asked, his voice sounding so close she wondered if he was leaning against the other side of the door. “E.A, are . . . are you going to go to the hospital?” His voice was frantic.
“Nee. Of course not.”
“Are you sure? How come we can’t go in and you won’t come out?”
Oh, goodness. What a pickle.
She saw the door handle jiggle right before it opened. Will peeked in, his expression somber. When he saw her on the floor, he looked pained. “Jem and Roy, we’ll be right out,” he said before closing the door.
“I’m sorry about this,” she whispered.
He squatted down on his haunches in front of her. “I’m sorry you feel so sick. Are you going to be okay?”
“Of course. It’s just a bad case of morning sickness.” She lifted a hand. “I can get up now.”
Instead of taking her hand, he stared at her intently. “Elizabeth Anne, it’s time to talk to them.”
Her mouth watered as she tried to pull herself together. “But—”
“Keeping this secret is making things worse for the kinner, not better. Their lives have already been uprooted many times. Keeping this a secret is causing them more stress that they don’t