SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (53 page)

All of it came rushing back. The sweet, fresh smell of honeysuckle filling the air. And the fireflies. Trillions of them.

I cuddled Charity next to me and felt the steady rising and falling of her breathing. She felt good in my arms. I wanted to hold her forever.

All around were blinking fireflies. And the fragrant aroma of honeysuckle. The air was thick with summer sounds and smells. Charity sighed in her sleep the way Faithie often did.

It was as though time had flip-flopped.

Baby Charity soon became restless. Instead of waiting for her to cut loose with the demanding cries of a hungry baby, I offered her the lukewarm milk in the bottle. She was more than willing to take it and made the gurgling, contented sounds of eager sucking.

When the milk was half gone and she was slowing down a bit, I put her up on my shoulder the way I’d seen Aunt Teri do it. Charity let out a few resounding burps and cooed a bit, then seemed fussy again.

“You’re still hungry, aren’t you, sweetie?” I turned her around and placed her in my arms, offering her the bottle once more. While she drank, I pretended she was my own baby, singing softly the way a real mother would.

My thoughts drifted to Charity’s mother, wherever she was. Had she been the teenager I’d seen in front of the house? Was she being forced to give up her baby?

Shivering, I remembered the frightening incident that had brought me outside in the first place. The girl had needed help, that was evident. She’d pleaded with the man in the driver’s seat. Sobbed pitifully. But the man in the blue pickup was relentless. Who
was
he? Certainly not the father of this baby. This wonderful baby!

I glanced down at Charity, now sound asleep. She was so helpless—no parents. No mother to care for her. I touched the top of her head, where her light brown hair formed tiny ringlets.
I
was the one Charity needed. A girl like me would never let her down. Never!

Yet two sides were arguing inside my head.

I found her! She’s mine!
the selfish, dreamy side insisted.

You’re just a kid yourself,
the opposite side reasoned.
You can’t take care of a baby!

My heart pounded ninety miles an hour, and eventually the selfish side of me won out. I put Charity back into her basket. Certain that she was in a deep sleep, I hurried to get the pad off the new chaise lounge in the yard. It would be my bed for the night. As for a cover, the night was still warm, but I borrowed one of the lightweight blankets left behind with Charity.

Peacefully, we settled down in our enchanting gazebo house. I situated her in the most well-protected corner and lay beside her, watching her in the moonlight. Minutes later, I gave in to droopy eyes.

My sleep was sweet, filled with a glorious dream. A wonderful voice said, “Your prayer has been answered, Merry Hanson.”

In the recesses of my mind, I knew God had given this new baby sister to me. Dream or no dream!

I awakened with a start. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as I leaned up to look at Charity. Her little fist was moving as she peeped her eyes open.

There were sounds of
clip-clopp
ing as a horse and buggy made its way down SummerHill Lane. I wondered if Rachel would be going to market with her mother. It was Friday, and lots of Plain folk would be in downtown Lancaster at Central Market, tending their fruit stands and selling quilts and other handmade things to tourists.

“We’ve got to have a talk,” I said to the baby. “You need some clothes—and that’s not all. This basket bed you’re sleeping in is going to get very small pretty soon.”

She gurgled and smiled in response. Such a happy, contented baby! I continued our chat, locating a disposable diaper in the basket, careful not to lose the note from Charity’s mother, or whoever had written it.

Suddenly, I realized someone was watching us!

I spun around. Rachel Zook peered into the gazebo. “Ach, Merry. Who’re ya talkin’ to?”

I noticed her brown work dress and long, black apron. She’d already been out milking. “What are you doing over here at the crack of dawn?”

Rachel spied the baby. “What a perty baby. Whose is it?”

“It’s too long a story for now,” I said. “Just promise me something.”

She smoothed the hair under her prayer
Kapp
before she spoke again. “Promise ya what?”

“That you won’t tell a single soul about this.” Desperation seized me.

Rachel’s blue eyes widened, and she crept closer. “I don’t know…” She paused, frowning. “Where’d the baby come from?”

I didn’t dare tell Rachel the whole story—not even one smidgen of it. She’d go running off to tell her mother, and before I’d know it, my secret would be out. And my plan ruined.

“Who is she, then?” Rachel asked.

“Her name is Charity.” I hoped that was enough to quiet my friend.

“Charity what?”

“I don’t need an interrogation,” I said.

Her jaw dropped. “I didn’t mean to upset ya. I just came over to see if you was up yet.”

“What for?”

“Levi wants to talk to ya.” She tried to keep a straight face, but a tiny smirk crossed her lips.

“Well, I can’t leave Charity alone, so tell him maybe later.”

Rachel put her hand on my shoulder. “What’s goin’ on, really? This baby…uh, Merry, why don’t ya just tell me about it?”

“Tell you what?” She’d known me too long. Close friends could pick up on unspoken things easily.

“You’re bein’ too secretive for this not to be what I’m a-thinkin’.” Rachel knelt down beside me. “Let’s take her over to the farm.
Mam
will know what to do.”

I bristled. “This is something
I
have to do.”

“Mam’s raisin’ seven of us children, Merry.” My friend wasn’t usually this determined. Amish girls were taught to be yielding and compliant.

“Just because your mom’s got a bunch of kids doesn’t mean I should give her my baby!”

“
Your
baby?” Rachel covered her mouth, looking horrified.

“No, no, silly,” I explained. “She’s not mine as in my own flesh and blood. She’s mine for another reason.”

Now Rachel was totally baffled. I could see it in the way her eyes penetrated mine. “Ya still haven’t answered my question,” she said. “Where’d this baby come from?”

I was about to tell her everything when Charity started to fuss. I knew she was probably hungry. Only one problem with that, though. I had to figure out a way to get inside the house without running into Mom or Dad. Baby Charity needed a clean bottle and nipple.

“Stay here for a second?” I pleaded.

Rachel nodded, still kneeling.

“If she cries, pick her up,” I said. “But whatever you do, stay inside the gazebo. You won’t be seen here!” I grabbed the empty baby bottle and ran to the house. Inside, I slipped into the kitchen without making a sound, then ran some hot water at the sink.

Yee-ikes! Dad was up—I could hear him walking around upstairs. My pulse raced as I poured a few drops of dish soap into the bottle, creating lots of suds.

Then I heard footsteps on the steps. Someone was coming! My fingers locked in a frenzy as I poured more water over the bottle, hiding my secret in the sink.

“Morning, hon,” Mom said, wearing her bathrobe. Then she did a double take. “Merry? Up so soon?”

Actually, my being up this early wasn’t highly unusual. There’d been several days this summer that I’d gotten up to have breakfast with Dad before he left for the hospital. “Morning,” I replied, avoiding the question.

She pulled her hair back against her neck and yawned. “It’s sweet of you to spend time with your father like this.” She headed for the fridge, looking at me for a moment. “Are you washing dishes?”

I was stuck—trapped!

“Uh…not really. Just cleaning something I found.” It was true.

Worried, I glanced out the window and scanned the gazebo. Good. Everything was still under control. But I realized that if I didn’t get some formula into that baby mighty soon, there’d be a major racket going on outside!

“What would you like for breakfast today?” Mom asked, still sounding a bit dazed.

“Scrambled eggs and waffles would be nice,” I said, choosing something that would take much longer than cold cereal and toast.

Mom sighed. “Waffles and eggs coming up.”

I tried not to be too conspicuous and pushed the bottle down under the soapy water, holding it there. My cat quartet padded across the floor to me. Lily White
meow
ed as if to scold me for staying out all night. Shadrach and Meshach did the same. Abednego eyed me with disdain—the powerful silent treatment.

“I’ll get your breakfast in a minute,” I said. “Just be patient.”

Mom closed the refrigerator door and asked, “Are you almost done there, Merry?” She was coming my way!

“Almost.” I panicked.

What can I do now?

I prayed that something would keep Mom from finding out about the baby bottle. Anything to distract her would be fine.

Bri-i-ing!
The phone rang and she went to get it.

“Thank you, Lord,” I whispered and quickly rinsed the bottle and nipple. Casting a furtive glance in Mom’s direction, I dashed out the back door, leaving the cats behind.

Swiftly, I hurried into the gazebo, out of sight. Rachel was doing a good job of keeping Charity quiet—letting her suck on one of her knuckles.

“I hope your hands are clean,” I reprimanded her.

“Ya didn’t want her hollerin’, didja?” Rachel was right. A baby wailing in the backyard was sure to draw unwelcome attention.

I opened the bottle of premixed formula and poured it into the clean bottle, still warm from washing. A flick of the wrist, and the nipple was in place. “There we are,” I said, reaching for Charity.

Rachel backed away, holding Charity close. “Aw, let me feed her.”

Resentment gripped me. “But she’s…”

“She’s not yours, any more than I’m yours.” Rachel was grinning. “C’mon, just this once?”

I relinquished the bottle and sat down on the floor, close enough to stroke Charity’s silky-soft arm. “We’ve gotta figure out a way to hide her.”

“Ach, so now it’s we?”

“You want to help, right?” I said, noticing how cuddly and contented Charity looked in my friend’s arms.

“First, tell me where she came from.”

It was only fair to let Rachel in on my secret. Since she was going to be involved, she deserved to know something. “Okay, you win.” And I told her enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A bewildered look crossed her face. “Did the truck happen to be noisy?” she asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

Rachel looked down at the baby in her arms. “ ’Cause I heard it goin’ up and down SummerHill all last week.”

“That’s weird. Come to think of it, the guy in the truck wanted to know where there was a doctor,” I said, remembering.

“How come, do ya think?”

“It’s hard to say. Unless…”

“What?”

“Unless he’s heard that some doctors arrange adoptions for infertile couples.”

Rachel’s eyes grew sad. “Jah.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“That would be a terrible heartache, infertility—especially for Amish wives. Most families in our church district have at least eight children.” She sighed. “My second cousin in Ohio could never have babies, though.”

“That’s too bad,” I said. “But your sister-in-law, Sarah, is expecting one this fall, right?”

Rachel brightened. “Jah, come November.”

“Won’t that be great?” I said. “You’ll get to baby-sit your own nephew or niece.”

Suddenly, I felt the time pressure, but we talked softly for a few more minutes. I knew I needed to cut this short and go inside to have breakfast with Dad. Otherwise, Mom would suspect something for sure. “Can you hold Charity till I get back?” I asked.

“Where’re ya goin’
now
?”

I explained about Mom making eggs and waffles and how I’d sneaked out while she was on the phone. “So will you stay here in the gazebo awhile?”

She shook her head. “I really hafta get back home.”

“Rachel! You can’t leave yet!”

She stood up, still holding the baby. “I’m sorry, Merry, but I can’t stay.”

Once again, I felt trapped. “Well, what can I do?” I said, glancing at the house. “Charity can’t be left out here alone, and if I don’t go in now—”

“I could take Charity with me,” Rachel interrupted.

“With you?” I repeated. “That’ll never work. How can I keep Charity a secret if you’re gonna go show her off at your house?”

“It wouldn’t hafta be that way.”

“Really? Well, you better talk fast.” I listened as she explained.

“I’ll keep her wrapped up so no one’ll see inside the basket. She can sleep upstairs in my room for a bit.”

Her plan wasn’t even remotely close to the way I wanted to handle things, but it seemed to be the only option. “As soon as I can, I’ll come over and get her,” I said, not knowing what I’d do once I got her home again. “Just please don’t tell anyone what I’ve told you.”

Rachel nodded and turned to put Charity in the wicker basket. “I think she needs another change,” she said, holding her nose.