The Englisch Daughter by Cindy Woodsmall & Erin Woodsmall

Author:Cindy Woodsmall & Erin Woodsmall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2020-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

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Jemima placed the flatiron facedown on the woodstove and removed the wooden handle. She folded a couple of towels before she put a dress on the ironing board and reattached the handle. Based on the heat coming off the iron, it should be hot enough to work but not so hot that it would scorch the clothes. The first time she’d used one as a teen, she’d burned a hole in her dress. Her mother wasn’t pleased. Jemima pressed it against Laura’s dress and moved it back and forth. The feeling and sight of the fabric releasing its wrinkles was always so satisfying.

She glanced at the pile of clothes waiting on the table, including Roy’s white church shirts. She’d put those off until last. She felt like burning them.

The sound of a vehicle on the gravel driveway caught her attention. She set the flatiron upright on the ironing board, went to the window next to the front door, and watched the hired driver pull toward the house. Roy was back.

His story about Tiffany was believable, if he was telling her the truth, and she wanted to believe him. She really did. But that wouldn’t change how betrayed she felt by his months of lies by omission or saying that he was leaving the house for work when he was actually going to her house, or his decision on his own to empty the savings account, or…The list was too long, and it made her head hurt.

Had it been hard hearted of her to demand that he give up the baby? Maybe. But how could their lives go back to normal until he did? They had so much weighing on them already. The lingering issues of last year’s accident. Roy’s newly broken arm. The disaster of the EHV-1 outbreak. And it was going to take years to catch up financially. The emotional trauma of Roy’s shunning would be beyond what they could deal with. No, the decision was right. Placing Heidi in an Englisch home was better for all of them.

The car stopped, and the passenger door opened. Roy stood, and even from the window, Jemima could see his grimace of pain. He said something to the driver and then turned to open the back passenger door. No, surely he didn’t…

He pulled out a car seat, hung it on his good arm, and started walking to the house.

Jemima gaped, sorting through a dozen emotions. She took a deep, steadying breath and walked back to the kitchen. Something had been niggling at the back of her mind all day. She figured that it was from all the heavy emotions she’d been dealing with, but, no, it was a hunch that she didn’t want to acknowledge: Roy couldn’t give up the baby.

She wanted to scream, but that would wake her napping children. She spread her hands on the kitchen counter, bracing herself. In a few moments the front door opened, and his heavy steps crossed the floor. They stopped near the kitchen, but she didn’t look up.

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