“Shadrack’s favorite brother is Jubal. We’d thought of Jubal for a boy, but two boys . . .”
“What about Jabel, Mam?” the eldest daughter asked. “Didn’t we hear about him in church last Sabbath? Jabel would go with Jubal, don’t you think?”
“Ya,” Irma agreed. “We’ll ask your father what he thinks, but he’s not so fast to come up with names. I’m sure that will suit him. Jubal for the first twin and Jabel for the second. What do you think, Salome?”
“I think those are fine names,” the midwife declared. Then to Rachel, “Take a bit of yarn from my bag and tie it around the oldest’s ankle. Otherwise, we’ll never tell them apart.”
“What nonsense,” Irma said. “You give them to me. Let me hold them. I’ll not mix them up, I promise you.” She laughed again, a hearty laughter that spread to all of them and filled Rachel’s heart with the wonder of what she’d just witnessed.
Three hours later, after both of the twins had taken nourishment and Irma was on her feet, Rachel and Salome piled into the buggy for the trip back to the midwife’s home. To Rachel’s astonishment, Irma followed them to the kitchen, a baby in each arm, and instructed her girls to wrap a generous slice of the apfelstrudel in wax paper for each of them to take with them.
“You’re sure you’re all right to go?” Irma asked. “You don’t want Shadrack or some of my boys to drive you down the mountain?”
“My mule will do fine,” Salome assured her. “You sit now and let those girls of yours tend to you. Annie, make certain she minds me. I’ll be back in the morning, but if there’s any change with you or the twins, you send someone to fetch me. I’ll come no matter the hour.”
Fortunately, buggies, with their high wheels and light construction, were well equipped for snow, and the mule’s strong and steady disposition kept them from bogging down in the ever-increasing drifts or sliding off the wooded lane. The temperature was cold but not dangerously so, and the swirling snow frosted the trees and hollows with white.
“Those precious babies,” Rachel said, breaking the silence as they rolled along. “It’s such a miracle that they were born so perfect and Irma delivered them so easily.”
“New life is always a miracle,” the midwife said softly. “And Irma’s body is doing exactly what God intended it to do. Childbirth is a natural thing, like breathing. It doesn’t always go like that, but Irma is sensible and surrounded by the people and place she loves most. And the twins were not much above six pounds. Her last little boy was much bigger.” Salome patted Rachel’s arm with a gloved hand. “You did well. You have common sense and compassion. You would have made a halfway decent midwife if you’d started training younger in life.”
“Instead of in my dotage as I am now?” Rachel laughed. And then, after a moment, she said, “You know why I came with you today. And it wasn’t to start training as your assistant.”
The older woman sighed. “I know, and I’ve been thinking over what you said to me when you came to my house before. But you must understand how important it is to me that I keep every woman’s secrets.”
“Every woman’s, but not every man’s, and not a man who hurts one of your patients.” Rachel reined in the mule and turned to face Salome. “I’ve reason to believe that Daniel abused Mary Rose and that might have been the reason for his death. She wasn’t his first wife. He was married twice before. The first marriage ended in his pregnant wife’s death due to a tragic accident. His second wife brought criminal charges against him for abuse and left the Amish church to get a divorce.”
“Are you suggesting that Mary Rose might have shot Daniel because he was hurting her?” Salome asked, the shock plain on her face.
“One of her family, but maybe Mary Rose. I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out. Maybe Moses really did kill him. But maybe he didn’t. And if Mary Rose did it, Daniel’s behavior toward her would make all the difference to her defense. If she feared for her life or the safety of her baby—”
“Daniel’s judgment is in God’s hands now.”
“But Moses or Mary Rose or even the neighbor Rosh might be judged by court of law.”
“Drive on,” Salome said. “He’ll get stiff if he stands still in this wind. We aren’t far from his stable and a warm oat mash for him and hot chocolate for us.”
Rachel sat there, the reins in her hand. “Please, Salome. I told Alma I’d get to the bottom of this.”
“Very well.” The midwife sighed. “I will say this one time and only one time and if called to the police or court or whatever, I will not speak of it.” She paused and then went on. “I cannot tell you anything for certain, but I had my suspicions. Bruises. Falls. Accidents, according to Mary Rose. And once, I treated her for a badly sprained wrist. She said she fell down the cellar stairs. Her husband always seemed caring. He drove her to her checkups with me and waited while I examined her. She seemed to me like any young bride who cared for her husband.”
“But you suspected that Daniel was beating her?”
The midwife nodded. “There was something in the anxious way she looked at him, and once . . .” She puckered her mouth and grimaced. “This could be an old woman’s idle mind, but someone was behaving badly in that household. More than once I saw Lemuel with black eyes or swollen lips. And he avoided his brother-in-law as much as possible.” Salome threw up her hands. “There
