Abigail's New Hope Read Online Free PDF

countertop. He supposed Iris had left them out for him to see before packing them away into the cupboards, pantry, and the cellar. The generosity of his neighbors appeared to have no limits. He contemplated looking for Iris and the baby, but an unbearable weariness came over him. He slumped into a chair in the pristine room without enough energy to lift a finger.
    Ten minutes later his aunt bustled into the room. “
Ach
, nephew. You look as though you could use a cup of coffee. You probably didn’t sleep a wink at the hospital.” She lit the propane burner under the pot. “I know I’d like a cup too.”
    “
Danki
for coming, Aunt Iris. I am in your debt.”
    “Nonsense. I’m happy to make myself useful. Because my three daughters-in-law turned out to be industrious, I rattle around in the
dawdi
haus
all day without enough to do.” She winked one of her cornflower blue eyes. “Except when the garden produce comes in or on quilting days, there’s not enough work for four women. One of my sons moved me into your guest room, so I will stay as long as you and little Abraham need me.” She poured two mugs of coffee and carried them to the table.
    “That could be a long while,” he said softly, wrapping his fingers around a mug.
    “Then so be it. I’ll enjoy taking caring of your son, Nathan. My youngest
kinskinner
will start school in the fall, so the house will seem empty. Babies are such a blessing.” She stirred two teaspoonfuls of sugar into her coffee.
    He slanted her a wry glance, not feeling particularly blessed at the moment.
    “They are, nephew. You’re in mourning now; that is normal. But someday you’ll see what a joy your son is. He’s a living reminder of your wife, and she will go on through him.”
    He stared down at the oak tabletop and held his tongue, fearing he’d say something he’d later regret.
    “This was the Lord’s will.” Her voice sounded soft and gentle.
    “I know, and I accept the will of God.” He tried to relax his fingers, which had curled into fists.
    Iris waited to see if he would say more, but he remained quiet. “What’s in your heart?” she asked. “Maybe talking to me would help.”
    “Yammering about stuff endlessly is the English way, not our way.” He sipped his coffee, gripping the mug tight enough to crack porcelain.
    “True enough, but holding in anger will eat a hole in an Amish stomach just as easily as an
Englischer
’s. Do you hold the midwife responsible? Is she the one you are mad at?” She studied him over the rim of her cup.
    Her question caught him off guard. “Mrs. Graber? No, she’s not to blame. She tried her best and did everything she could to save Ruth.” Nathan focused on a freshly washed wall, noticing that the calendar displayed the wrong month. He waited, hoping his aunt would change the subject or offer another option besides the truth. But she sat patiently. After a few moments, he met her gaze. “I’m the one to blame. It’s my fault Ruth is gone.”
    “Your fault? Oh, no, it couldn’t possibly be—”
    He held up a hand to stem her interruption. “Now that you asked, hear me out. Since the day Ruth and I married, I always said things like ‘I can’t wait until the
bopplin
start coming,’ and ‘I hope we end up with six girls for you and a half dozen boys for me.’” He grimaced remembering the joyous look on Ruth’s face whenever they talked about a large family.
    “That was just chatter, Nathan. All couples are filled with big plans and expectations.”
    “But she knew how much I wanted children, and…I pushed her to see a doctor when things didn’t…happen for us right away.”
    Iris walked to the stove for the coffeepot, mitigating his discomfort from discussing a delicate topic.
    “Ruth had found a lady doctor a couple towns away, so I drove her back and forth several times so she could run tests and whatnot. She even wanted to admit Ruth overnight once, but she refused. Ruth was afraid of hospitals.