“Let’s go inside. I’ll make some tea.”

  Maisy followed her into the kitchen. The aromas of sausage and fried eggs still lingered in the air. Maisy’s old friend nausea reared his ugly head. She took a seat while Vicky flitted about making tea and cutting pieces of pumpkin pie she brought to the table without a word.

  When she finally sat across from Maisy, her face had blanched white with rosy spots on her cheeks. “Sei so gut, say what you have to say. You’ve changed your mind.”

  “Nee. Not me.” Maisy swallowed the bitter pill of being forced into a corner by someone else’s expectations and perceptions. It was unfair to her and to the Kings. Not that any of them expected life to be fair. “In this life there will be trouble. . . .” “I thought this decision would be mine and mine alone. I’d been led to believe that by my bopli’s father.”

  Vicky’s hand went to her mouth. She made a choked sound.

  Maisy plowed forward with a description of Sue Ellen’s visit followed by Maisy’s phone conversations with Nate. “Nate has no legal right to this bopli unless he files paternity paperwork. So far he hasn’t done that. He has until I sign the adoption consent form twelve hours after the bopli is born.”

  Tears welled in Vicky’s eyes. She brushed them away with her fingertips. “Did he say which way he was leaning?”

  “Nee. He knows I strongly object to my—to this—bopli being raised Englisch. But like so many people, he thinks money and material things will give her a better life than what she would have in a family of strong faith and community. It’s a hard thing to fight.”

  “How can he expect you and us to live like this, not knowing until the last minute?” Vicky laid pieces of pie on saucers. She handed one to Maisy, along with a fork. From her expression she had no idea that she’d done it. “I know I have to be strong. I know it’s in Gott’s hands, but I sometimes wonder how much more I can take.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should’ve talked to him first before I approached you.”

  “Nee. He told you he wanted nothing more to do with the bopli. You couldn’t know he would change his mind.”

  Maisy stirred honey into her tea. If only there were a way to sweeten this news. “I don’t want to give you false hope, but at the same time, I feel in my heart he won’t come through. Nate is a spoiled boy who still has so much growing up to do. He’s not like a Plain man. He hasn’t been brought up to be a worker and provider.”

  “That could be exactly why he decides he wants the bopli.” Vicky dropped her napkin over her untouched pie. “He’ll be selfish. He’ll want the bopli because it’s his.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I find myself examining my life from every which way, squinting, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to stand up to these blows that keep coming. It’s so wrong, but I can’t help it when I say why me. Who am I to question?”

  “It’s human nature. You’re not responsible for the tribulations you face. Mine are self-inflicted. I don’t dare whine about it.”

  Yet she did. All too often. Now her troubles had spilled onto this innocent couple. “I’m so sorry for making your situation harder.”

  “You were trying to help. I thank you for that. We won’t give up. We’ll pray for Gott’s will in our lives and in yours.”

  “What’s going on?” Isaac strode into the kitchen. His shirt was sweat stained and his hands dirty. “I saw the buggy in the yard.”

  “Want some lemonade?” Vicky popped up and scurried to the counter. “Wash your hands and I’ll get you a piece of pie.”

  “What’s going on?” Isaac’s gaze stayed on Maisy as he crossed to the sink. “Is everything all right with the bopli?”

  It would be cowardly to let Vicky carry the burden of explaining Maisy’s visit. “I needed to tell you both about a visit I received from the bopli’s groosmammi and the phone calls with his biological daed.”

  Isaac’s eyes went flat. He turned his back, washed his hands, and then moved to the table. “So tell me.”

  Maisy repeated her conversation with Vicky. Isaac’s index finger tapped on the pine table. One leg jiggled. His boot thumped the floor.

  “I’m sorry to introduce more uncertainty in your lives, but I wanted you to be prepared for the possibility that Nate could interfere in our arrangement.”

  Isaac waited until Vicky set the lemonade in front of him. He took a long draught. “We’ll pray for Gott’s will.” He clamped his mouth shut in a grimace, stood, and walked out the back door.

  “I’m truly sorry,” Maisy whispered, but he was already gone. “So sorry.”

  “He always goes to the barn when his emotions become too much.” Vicky picked up his glass. She paused in the middle of the kitchen, cradling it. “He’ll come back later and we’ll talk. We’ll be fine.”

  “If I hear anything from Nate, I’ll let you know.” Maisy went to the sink and set her glass on the counter. She gently removed Isaac’s glass from Vicky’s hands. “Let me.”

  Vicky drew back. Maisy followed her gaze through the window over the sink. Dresses in teals, lilacs, and purples flapped on the clothesline. Sun-dappled leaves dropped from the tree branches. Such an idyllic scene with no thought for the turmoil within the house. “Do you think he has enough wherewithal to realize the agony he’s putting you and others through?”

  “Nee. I don’t.”

  “It must be nice to go through life as the center of your world.”

  “I ask myself what I was thinking. How could my heart have led me so far astray with a man so lacking in Plain values?” Shame stung Maisy like so many wasp stings. “How could that only have been six months ago? How could we conceive a child under these circumstances when you and Isaac can’t?”

  “A boatload of questions.” Vicky laughed softly but without sarcasm. “I’m afraid it wasn’t your heart that led you astray.”

  The truth still cut deeply, however gently delivered. Maisy brushed her hands across her burgeoning belly. “I just want to make sure this bopli isn’t punished for my sin. I can take my punishment. He deserves none.”

  Vicky picked up the washrag and wiped down the counter, even though it was spotless. “Be sure if Isaac and I are blessed to take in this bopli, you will never have to worry about him. He will have two parents who love him enough to punish him only when he deserves it and with punishment suited to the crime.”

  A spotlight fell on the years to come. A little boy standing before Vicky, head bent, hands behind his back, lower lip protruding. Yes, he swiped the cookies from the cooling racks. Yes, he knew better than to eat cookies right before supper. Vicky, hiding a smile, would admonish him soundly and let him know he wouldn’t have dessert after supper.

  “I know you will,” Maisy said.

  “I can see it.”

  “So can I.”

  Gott, let Nate see it too.

  Chapter 36

  The days passed quickly as the Christmas holiday approached. Despite being busy with customers, Maisy still made time for lunch every day. She needed to rest her feet and her aching back while feeding a suddenly voracious appetite. Joshua still managed to pop in and join her, even though business at the furniture store was steadily increasing. Neither of them brought up Joshua’s declaration. In the weeks since that fateful conversation, they’d reverted to carefully skirting potentially explosive topics. The weather, the Plank children’s antics, stories about crazy customers, simple prattle filled their lunch hours.

  Maisy kept her questions to herself. Did she stay here and go to baptism classes with him? Did she go home, back to the life she’d once had? Once that hope had been the bright light she followed to keep from falling into a dark pit. Now the bright light shone in Haven.

  The Christmas season brought an even bigger glut of customers to downtown Yoder. The bigger Maisy’s belly grew, the slower she moved, making it hard to keep up with the folks shopping for inflatable Santas, artificial Christmas trees, strings of twinkling lights, and nativity scenes. Her back ached, her feet hurt, and sleep was interrupted by frequent trips to the bathroom. Fewer of those trips involved leaning over the toilet to vomit, so that was a blessing.

  Working in the store was also a blessing. Everyone had the Christmas spirit. Being busy proved to be a blessing. No thinking about Nate’s decision. No imagining what life would be like after the baby’s birth.

  For all her intentions to avoid entanglements with men such as the one that led to her downfall, here she stood, her feelings wrapped up tight with a man named Joshua. Except Joshua was no English man. He was no teenager. He wanted a life she recognized. Wife, children, a home made together, a life faced together.

  That his dream included her seemed like a child’s fairy tale. Tell me, Gott, can something so good come of something so terribly wrong?

  No answer. Instead she concentrated on her work. Christmas Eve fell on a Friday so Harvey had decided to close early and remain closed until Monday. Since Maisy was off on Mondays she had a lovely gift of three and a half days off. Her back, ankles, and feet thanked Harvey.

  Humming “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” Maisy removed Christmas decorations from the shelves in preparation for setting up a snow-removal display. The tiny bell over the front door dinged, which was a surprise. They’d had a dearth of customers on this Christmas Eve morning. They were either home with family or doing last-minute gift shopping in Hutchinson.

  “It’s me.” Joshua stamped snow from his boots while unwinding a black knitted scarf around his neck. His cheeks were ruddy with cold. He held a box wrapped in plain brown paper tucked under his arm. “I think the temperature has dropped ten degrees in the last two hours.”

  “It’s nice that we’re having a white Christmas, though.” With a deep breath in and out, Maisy traipsed to the front of the store. “Has it been quiet at your place? We’ve had crickets here.”

  “Nee, we’ve had a steady stream of customers who waited until the last minute to buy gifts—lots of quilts especially. Funny how manns don’t mind the price tag when they’re down to the wire and desperate.”

  “Is Caleb closing early?”

  “Jah, in fact he’s shutting down now.” Joshua’s gaze bounced to the floor. He shifted the package from one arm to the other. “I’m heading home. We have family coming from La Plata. That’s why I wanted to stop by now.” He paused. His shoulders hunched. “I have a present for you.”

  A present. Maisy’s hand went to her throat. Sudden emotion surged—it felt like happiness or a flicker of joy, the joy that had been missing for the last several months. Perfect. Danki, Gott. Now she could give him the gift she’d picked out for him without that persistent voice in her right ear telling her it was a mistake. A person should reciprocate when receiving a Christmas gift.

  “You didn’t need to do that. It’s sweet of you.” And it made her decision to get him a gift acceptable. A lovely giddiness enveloped her. It’s just the season. That’s all. “I do love presents, though.”

  He held out the box. “You’ve had a lot on your plate these many months. I saw it and thought of you.”

  Maisy accepted Joshua’s gift. It was heavy. Weighty physically. But light compared to the emotion that fell over her shoulders. Was there meaning behind a gift from a Plain man to a Plain woman carrying an English man’s baby? What was the etiquette for such a situation?

  “Don’t overthink it.” Joshua smiled. He had a beautiful smile, more precious because he only bestowed it on those he cared for. “Just say danki and open it.”

  “Open it now?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Wait. I mean, come over to the counter.” She trudged to the gate and let herself in. Joshua’s gift lay safely stowed on one of the shelves below. She deposited the one he’d given her on the counter and set his next to it.

  He shrugged off his coat and handed it and the scarf to her so she could hang it on the coatrack. “What’s this?”

  “A little something for you from me.”

  His aw-shucks grin surely matched Maisy’s. “You should know I love presents too.”

  “I do know.”

  “How?”

  “Hannah brought Rachel and Michael into the store last week.” Maisy couldn’t contain a burble of laughter. “I might have been eavesdropping on their conversation.”

  “So what did they get me?”

  “Ha, like I’d tell you that.”

  “Fine, so open my gift.”

  “Me first?”

  “Jah.”

  All thumbs, she ripped off the paper. When the nature of the gift became apparent, Maisy laughed. “A dictionary!” Not just any dictionary, a hardback Merriam-Webster Unabridged Dictionary. No wonder the package was so heavy. “Oh, Joshua, danki.”

  “I see how happy words make you.” Joshua shrugged, his tone diffident. His wonder at her fascination with words showed in his wrinkled brow. “You could use some happiness.”

  “It’s very thoughtful.” It boggled her mind that he had given so much thought to her happiness. “I know you don’t understand.”

  “I don’t have to understand. It’s not about me; it’s about you.”

  “How did you get so wise?”

  “Practice.” He grinned. He was a handsome man who tucked away his tenderness, so it only peeked out now and then.

  Maisy smoothed her hands over the shiny cover. The pages called to her. She opened to the Bs. Bodacious: audacious in a way considered admirable, or impressive. Excellent, admirable or attractive. Joshua could be considered bodacious. A wave of heat started at her toes and rushed through her body, ending its trek by toasting her cheeks. She swallowed back a nervous giggle.

  “Now you.”

  “You didn’t need to get me anything. That smile is all the gift I needed.”

  “You’re sweet. Open it.”

  He took as little time with the brown wrapping as she had. The shiny new toolbox gleamed in his hands. “How did you know?”

  “Rachel and Michael were debating over this or one or two other things. When they settled on the third item, I decided on the toolbox.”

  “I can’t wait to see what those two landed on. Put them together and they’re a little narrisch.” His grin broadened even though it was obvious he was trying to hide his pleasure. “I should get going. My mudder is baking four kinds of cookies, a raisin cream pie, and a chocolate cake. I’m expected to sample them all.”

  Maisy followed him to the door. He paused, hand on the door. “Merry Christmas, Maisy.”

  “Merry Christmas.” More words wanted to come out. The one time when she really needed some of those highfalutin words, they failed her. “Are you working after Christmas?”

  In other words would she see him before the New Year?

  “Caleb is closing the store until after New Year’s Day.”

  So no. “Then I guess I should say Froh Neiyaahr too.”

  “Froh Neiyaahr.” His gaze enveloped her. He nodded. “I’m hoping it’ll be a gut year for you and for me.”

  He’d given her another present. The gift of hope. That life might go on. “Me too.”

  “See you next year.”

  “See you next year.”

  That’s a promise.

  Chapter 37

  “Ma’am, you’re dripping.”

  It took a few seconds for Maisy to get past the young customer’s use of the word “ma’am” when referring to her moments after explaining his dad had sent him to buy something called polyurethane varnish, but he didn’t know if it should be matte, glossy, or satin. Belatedly she followed his gaze directed toward the floor around her feet.

  A small pool of water ponded around her sneakers. Her baby wasn’t due for two weeks. Two long weeks. The new year had started off frigid. February served up more of the same with none of the signs of spring that came with March. The bigger she grew, the more slowly the weeks had passed. Caught in limbo waiting to hear from Nate hadn’t helped. Vicky and Isaac had withdrawn from her—rightly so. Only Joshua’s determined visits helped pass the time. It seemed this baby would never come. Until this moment when she might decide to come early.

  I’m not ready, Gott.

  How quickly the tide turned. Maybe it was simply her leaky bladder. The more the baby grew, the more that happened. Kate had deemed painful cramps the previous week as something called Braxton Hicks contractions, also known as false labor.

  “Ma’am?” The boy’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Aren’t you gonna do something?”

  Like get a mop? “Ach. Umm. I . . . I . . . let me get Harvey to help you.”

  Maisy gingerly skirted the puddle of clear liquid. A few drops darkened the hem of her dress. No smell of pee hung in the air—thank goodness. The moment held enough embarrassment for both of them. The customer looked like a college kid out of his league in a hardware store with a woman who knew more about finishes than he did.

  Harvey, who labored over invoices in his office, grunted when she knocked on the door. “Come.”

  “I have a situation.”

  He scooted away from his computer and faced her. “What’s up? An unruly customer who thinks we charge too much for pipe insulation? It’s a little late for insulating pipes.”

  “No.” Maisy shifted her feet and put both hands on her belly. The baby had definitely reached pumpkin stage. Watermelon would be more accurate. “I’ve had a little accident.” Heat curled around her face and neck. “I think maybe my water broke.”

  Harvey stood so fast his chair flew back and hit the bookshelves behind him. His grand-champion catfish-tournament trophy toppled over. “Why didn’t you say so, missy? Are you having contractions?”

  “Just little ones.”

  “How far apart?”

  “I don’t know.” After thirty-eight weeks, a person would think she’d be more prepared. After all this time, it still didn’t feel real. A twinge hard enough to take her breath away rocked Maisy’s stomach. Okay, a little real. “Not regularly.”

  “It’s snowing or haven’t you noticed? We’re supposed to get seven to ten inches today.” Harvey grabbed the phone. “I’ll call Caleb and have him send Joshua over here. He can take you to the clinic.”