The Amish Midwife - Patricia Davids Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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but let’s give it an hour or so before we celebrate.”

      “One less hour of sleep is fine with me as long as you don’t mind.”

      Anne looked up, surprised that he would consider her comfort when he looked as tired and worn out as she felt. She had never seen him looking so worried. “Where is Fannie? Why did she leave Leah with you?”

      He was silent for so long that Anne thought he wasn’t going to tell her anything. He stared at his clasped hands and finally spoke. “Fannie brought the baby to me four days ago. She said she had to have surgery and couldn’t keep the child with her in the hospital. She asked me to watch her for a few days.”

      “What about the baby’s father? Why couldn’t he watch the child?”

      “He had to get to New York for a job interview.”

      “Which hospital is she in?”

      “She didn’t say. She’ll be back soon. Probably this morning.”

      “It seems strange that she didn’t tell you which hospital she was going to. Did she leave a phone number or a way to contact her?”

      He rose to his feet. “I should go. It’s not right that I’m here alone with you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. If the bishop hears of this, it could mean trouble for you. You have your reputation to protect.”

      “I’m sure Bishop Andy would understand. You were only thinking of the baby.”

      Speaking of the bishop reminded Anne of her regretful behavior toward Joseph. “I want to beg your forgiveness for my grave lapse in manners the other day. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m humiliated and so very sorry that I acted as I did. You would be within your rights to report me to the church elders for discipline.”

      “It’s forgiven. The babe seems fine now. Danki. I should go home.” He reached for the baby, and Anne let him take her.

      “Feed her the electrolyte water if she wakes up hungry again tonight. Tomorrow you can mix a little formula with it. One part milk to three parts water. If she tolerates that, mix it half and half for the next feeding.”

      “I understand. Guten nacht, Anne. You’ve been a great help. I appreciate the loan of the clothes, too.”

      “Tell Fannie she can keep them if she wants. Good night, Joseph,” Anne called after him, but he was already out the door.

      Was he that concerned about her reputation or was he reluctant to answer any more questions about his sister? At least he had forgiven her for striking him. That was a relief. Shaking her head over the whole thing, Anne put out the lights and climbed the stairs to bed for what was left of her night.

      Waking at her usual time, Anne fixed a pot of strong coffee and made her plans for the day. She didn’t have any mother’s visits scheduled, so her whole day could be devoted to getting her pumpkins up to her roadside stand. After two cups and some toast, she was ready to get to work.

      Outside, she took her old wheelbarrow out to her patch and began loading it with ripe pumpkins. Her white ones and the traditional orange carving pumpkins were her bestsellers, but she did have a number of cooking pumpkins ready to be picked. She added three of them to the top of the heap in her wheelbarrow for her own use. Having planted a new cooking variety, she was anxious to see if they were as good as her tried-and-true heirloom ones.

      A crooked front wheel made pushing the wheelbarrow a chore, but getting it fixed would have to wait. If she came out ahead on her produce stand this fall, she was definitely investing in a new pushcart. Leaving the barrow at the front steps, she carried her cooking pumpkins in and put them in the sink to be washed. She stood contemplating another cup of coffee when she heard someone shouting her name.

      She opened the front door. Joseph came sprinting toward her with Leah in his arms.

       Chapter Three

      “Joseph, what’s wrong?” Anne held the door wide for him.

      He rushed inside looking frazzled and more exhausted than the last time she had seen him. “I did as you told me. She was fine the rest of the night. When I gave her some of the formula this morning, she threw up again and her face got all blotchy. Now she won’t stop crying.”

      Anne could see that for herself. Joseph’s blue shirt had a large wet streak down the front. The unmistakable odor of sour milk emanated from him. Leah continued to wail. It was hard to tell if she was red in the face from crying or from something else. Anne began to suspect the child had an intolerance to milk.

      She took the baby from him, sat down in a kitchen chair and unwrapped the blanket Leah was swaddled in. The baby was wearing the long pink gown that Anne had given Joe last night. She untied the ribbon from around the hem and pulled up the material, exposing Leah’s kicking legs and belly and more red blotches. Anne had seen this kind of reaction before and was almost sure she was right. “I think she may have an allergy to the formula.”

      He shook his head. “I checked the can her mother gave me. It’s the same brand I got for her. How can a baby be allergic to milk?”

      “Some babies just are.” It was possible the rash was from something else, but it seemed too coincidental that it appeared immediately after she’d had the formula. Anne needed more information.

      Joseph ran a hand through his hair. “She can’t live on water.”

      “Nay, she can’t.” Anne pulled the gown down and wrapped the blanket loosely around her. Lifting the baby to her shoulder, she patted the fussy child’s back until she quieted.

      “Then what do I feed her?” Joseph sounded like a man at the end of his rope. Looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink, he raked a hand through his disheveled hair again. He hadn’t bothered putting on his hat. If Anne needed proof of how upset he was, she had it. Joseph never left his house without his straw hat unless it was to wear his black felt hat to Sunday services.

      She shifted the baby to the crook of her arm. “You may need to switch her to a soy formula. I need to know what brand you gave her. It could be that you just need a different kind of milk.”

      “I’ll get it.” He rushed out of the house, leaped off the porch without touching the steps and sprinted toward his home a few hundred yards to the south. Anne watched as he vaulted the fence at the edge of his property instead of using the gate and kept running. She didn’t know a man his size could move so fast.

      She struggled not to laugh as she gazed at Leah. “You’re certainly showing me a different side of my neighbor. Do be kinder to the poor man. I think he’s having a hard time adjusting to you.”

      It was clear that Joseph was deeply concerned about his niece and determined to do whatever it took to help her. Anne watched him rush into his house and wondered what else she would learn about Joseph Lapp while he cared for his niece.

      Did his sister have any idea how much she had disrupted her brother’s life? Anne didn’t know Fannie, but she found it hard to picture anyone leaving a baby with Joseph, even for a few days. Still, his sister would know him better than Anne did. She’d seen him bottle-feeding young goats in his pen. Maybe he knew more about infants than she gave him credit for knowing.

      Leah buried her face against Anne’s chest and began rubbing it back and forth. She whimpered and then started crying again, pulling Anne’s attention away from her thoughts of Joseph.

      Anne stroked the baby’s head. “You poor little thing. That rash itches, doesn’t it? I have something I think will help.”

      * * *

      Joseph came sprinting into Anne’s house and skidded to a stop on her black-and-white-patterned linoleum. The baby had stopped screaming. Leah sat naked, splashing and giggling in a basin of water in the center of the kitchen table. Anne cooed to the child as she

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