Page 88 of Fallen

“She’s out,” Loretta said. “I’ve got her.”

Rachael fell back into the pillows. Breaths rushing. Body slicked with perspiration. The sheets around her damp with it.

“There’s a cord.”

Loretta set the baby in a ratty towel. A tiny body slicked with fluids. An instant later, Rachael heard a cry, like a kitten’s mewl. The sensation of the cord still within her.

She looked away. “Cut it,” she said, and for the first time since the first pang of labor, she thought about what came next.

“I brought Mamm’s shears.” Loretta cut the cord, capturing the blood with a face cloth. “There.”

She then swaddled the baby tightly in the towel, rolling her from side to side and tucking in the edges. “That’s how the midwife does it,” she said. “Tight, like this, so she doesn’t scratch herself with those little fingernails.”

Loretta got to her feet and looked at Rachael, her expression uncertain, questioning. “Do you want to hold her?”

Rachael didn’t look at her friend; she didn’t look at the baby. She shook her head.

“Oh, but she’s so cute. Just look at her.” Smiling, Loretta looked down at the baby, running her finger over the little cheek. “Such a precious thing. Her lips are like a satin bow.”

When Rachael said nothing, she added, “This child is a gift from God. No matter how she came to be, this little angel is—”

Rachael cut her off. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

A moment of hesitation and then, “Of course not. It’s just that … you’re exhausted and overwhelmed. Maybe you’re the one having second thoughts. I wouldn’t blame you, especially after what you’ve been through.”

“I don’t want her,” Rachael said. “I don’t want to be a mother. You know that.”

Loretta looked down at the baby, tears glittering. “Are you sure?”

Rachael studied her friend, wondering how she could be so happy— so good—when life dished out such terrible things. Having children and a family are a key part of being Amish. Children are welcomed with joy and considered “a heritage of the Lord.” She wondered what was wrong with her. Why didn’t she want her own baby?

“You and Ben have been married for what? Seven months now?” Rachael asked. “And yet God hasn’t seen fit to bless you with a child.”

“These things take time,” Loretta said. “God will not be rushed.”

“It’s a sign, Loretta. It means everything we talked about is the right thing to do.”

Loretta looked up, met her gaze, her expression serene. “But how…”

“Ben still thinks you’re ime familye weg?” Rachael asked.

Loretta nodded. “Mamm, too. Everyone does. I made that pillow, you know. I’ve been wearing it under my dress for weeks now.” She looked down at the baby, but not before Rachael discerned the hint of shame in her eyes.

“So we go through with our plan,” Rachael said. “Just like we talked about.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Loretta whispered. “What if someone finds out?”

“No one is going to find out,” Rachael assured her. “All we have to do is stay calm and stick to our plan.”

Looking down at the newborn in her arms, Loretta blinked back tears. “I love her already.”

“See? You’re a natural,” Rachael said, watching, relieved. “You’ll see. Everything will work out. Ben is going to be so happy. Your mamm and datt. You, too.”

Loretta’s brows knit. “It sounded so … easy when we talked about it. I mean, before. Now that the baby is here, how do I explain—”

“I got it all worked out.” Rachael tapped her temple with her index finger. “I thought of every last detail. Every question. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

And she began to talk.