Читать книгу Amish Redemption - Patricia Davids - Страница 12
ОглавлениеMary shivered as she looked around the old cellar. If she had to spend the night in here, she wouldn’t like it, but she could do it. She would depend on God for His protection and comfort. In the meantime, she had to be brave for her child and make the best of a bad situation for Joshua’s sake, too. He was trying to hide his fear, but she saw it in his eyes.
“I noticed an old lantern hanging from a nail by the cellar steps. We should check and see if it has any kerosene in it.” She spoke calmly, surprised to find her voice sounded matter of fact.
“Good idea. I’ll see if I can find an ax or something useful to chop open or pry up the door.” Joshua flicked his lighter on. He located the lantern, took it down from the nail and shook it. A faint sloshing sound gave Mary hope.
Hannah tugged on her skirt. “I’m hungry. Can we go home now?”
Joshua leaned toward her. “You mean you want to go home before our adventure has ended?”
Hannah gave him a perplexed look. “What adventure?”
“Why, our treasure hunt.” He raised the glass chimney of the lantern and held his lighter to the wick. It flickered feebly for a second and then caught. He lowered the glass, wiped it free of dust with his sleeve and turned up the wick. The lamp cast a golden glow over their surroundings. It was amazing how much better Mary felt now that she could see.
“What kind of treasure hunt?” Hannah sounded intrigued by the idea.
“We’re all going to hunt for some useful things,” Mary said.
Joshua nodded. “That’s right. Let’s pretend that we are going to make this cellar into a home. What do we need first?”
“Chairs and a table,” Hannah said.
“Then help me look for some on our pretend shopping trip.” He glanced at Mary. She nodded and he held out his hand to Hannah. “I think I saw some chairs over this way. Don’t you like to go shopping? I do. This storekeeper needs to sweep out his store, though. This place is as dirty as a rainbow.”
Hannah scowled at him. “Rainbows aren’t dirty. They’re pretty and clean.”
He held his lantern higher. “Are they? Well, this place isn’t. It’s as dirty as a star.”
“Stars aren’t dirty, Joshua. They twinkle.”
“Then you tell me what is dirty.”
“A pigpen.”
“Yup, that is dirty, all right, but this place is worse than a pigpen. What else is dirty?”
“Your face.”
Mary choked on her laugh. Hannah was right. His face was covered in dirt. There were cobwebs on his clothes and bits of leaves and grass in his dark brown hair. It was then she realized how short his hair was. It wasn’t the style worn by Amish men. Joshua must still be in his rumspringa.
Mary had left her running-around years behind a few short weeks after Hannah was born. She had been baptized into the Amish faith at the age of sixteen, the time when most Amish teens were just beginning to test the waters of the English world.
Joshua seemed to notice she was staring at him. He rubbed a hand over his head in a self-conscious gesture and shook free some of the clinging grime.
Mary looked away. She wiped down her sleeves and brushed off her bonnet, knowing she couldn’t look much better. Oddly, she wished she had a mirror to make sure her face was clean. It wasn’t like her to be concerned with her looks, but she did wonder what Joshua thought of her.
That was silly. He would think she was a married woman with a child, and that was a good thing. She glanced at him again.
He wiped his face with both hands but it didn’t do much good. He spoke to Hannah. “This isn’t dirt. It’s flour. I was going to bake a cake.”
Hannah giggled at his silliness. “It is not flour.”
“Okay, but this is a table and we need one.” He held his find aloft. The ancient rocker was missing a few spindles in the back, but the seat was intact.
Hannah planted her hands on her hips. “That’s a chair.”
“It’s a good thing I have you to help me shop. I’d never find the right stuff on my own. Let’s go look for a donkey.”
Hannah giggled again. “Joshua, we don’t need a donkey in our house.”
“We don’t? I’m so glad. I don’t know where it would sleep tonight.”
His foolishness made Mary smile. He was distracting and entertaining Hannah. For that, she was grateful. Mary turned her attention to finding something to collect the rainwater. She had no idea how long they might be down here, but Hannah was sure to be thirsty soon.
She found a metal tub hanging from a post near the center of the room. It had probably been a washtub at one time. Using her apron, she wiped it out and positioned it under the worst of the dripping. Next, she found an empty glass canning jar and rinsed it out the same way. She put it in the center of the tub. Once the jar was full, the overflow would accumulate in the tub and leave her something to wash with later.
The plink, plink, plink of the water hitting the bottom of the jar was annoying, but they would be grateful for the bounty before morning. She refused to think they might be down here more than one night.
Taking off her bonnet, she laid it aside. Then she held the cleanest corner of her apron under a neighboring drip until it was wet and unobtrusively used it to scrub her face.
At the end of their shopping trip, Joshua and Hannah came back with two barely usable chairs, a small wooden crate for a third seat and another washtub with a hole in the side for a table, but no ax or tools. Joshua set the furniture up in their corner, allowing Hannah to arrange and rearrange them to her satisfaction in her imaginary house.
While her daughter was busy, Mary spoke quietly to Joshua. “I will be fine until we are rescued, but Hannah will be hungry soon. Do you have anything to eat?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry. Everything I have is out in my buggy in the barn. There are some cans and jars on the shelf back there. Want me to take a look?”
“Nee, you’re doing a wonderful job keeping Hannah occupied. I’ll go look.” Normally leery of strangers, Mary didn’t feel her usual disquiet with Joshua. She assumed their current circumstances made him seem like less of a stranger and more like a friend in need.
He pulled a candle stub from his pocket. “I found this along with a couple of others in a pan. It was the best one.” He lit it, dripped a small amount of wax on the overturned washtub and stuck the butt in it to hold the candle upright. Then he handed Mary the lantern.
“Someone was probably saving them to melt down to reuse.” She didn’t have a mold to form a new candle, but she could make one by dipping a wick in the melted wax. A strip of cotton cloth from her apron or from her kapp ribbon would make an adequate wick. She would work on that before the lantern ran out of fuel. Sitting in the dark was the last thing she wanted to do.
Hannah began jumping up and down. “I hear a siren. Do you hear it? It’s Papa Nick!”
Mary’s spirits rose until the welcome sound faded away. Nick wasn’t coming for them. He had no idea where she was. It might not even have been him. How much damage had been done by the tornado? Were others in need of rescue?
A few moments later, she heard the sound of another siren on the highway. Were they ambulances rushing to help people injured by the twister? She had been praying so hard for herself and for Hannah that she had forgotten about others in the area. This part of the county was dotted with English and Amish farms and businesses. How many had been destroyed? How many people had lost their lives? She prayed now for all the people she knew beyond the stone walls keeping her prisoner. It was the only thing she could do to help.
Lifting the lantern, she moved across the crowded room to the shelves Joshua had indicated and searched through the contents. She glanced back to see him placing the tub as Hannah instructed in her imaginary house. The lantern flickered and Mary turned up the wick. She hated being trapped, but at least she didn’t have to face the situation alone.
A dozen times in the next half hour the eerie wailing of sirens rose and fell as they passed by on the highway a quarter of a mile away from the house. Each time, Mary’s hopes sprang to life and then ebbed away with the sound. She met Joshua’s eyes. They both knew it was a bad sign.
* * *
Joshua noticed the growing look of concern on Mary’s face. It didn’t surprise him. He was concerned, too. He had no idea when rescue would come. Would anyone think to search an old house that had been abandoned for months? Why would they? He racked his brain for a way to signal that they were here, but came up empty. Someone would have to come close enough to hear them shouting.
Hannah came to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Joshua, we need a stove and a bed now. Take me shopping again.”
She looked and sounded like a miniature version of her mother. He had to smile. “You are a bossy woman. Does your mother boss your daed that way?”
Hannah shook her head. “He died a long time ago. I don’t remember him. But I have Papa Nick.”
At first, Joshua had assumed Papa Nick was Englisch because Hannah connected him to the siren she heard. However, the siren could have belonged to one of the many Amish volunteer fire department crews that dotted the area. Was Papa Nick her new father, perhaps? He glanced to where Mary was searching the shelves and asked quietly, “Who is Nick?”
“He’s my papa Nick,” the child said, as if that explained everything.
“Is he your mother’s husband?”
“Nee.” She laughed at the idea.
He glanced at Mary with a new spark of interest. She wasn’t married, as he had assumed. It was surprising. Why would the men in this community overlook such a prize? Perhaps she was still mourning her husband. Joshua rubbed his chin. He noticed a bit of cobweb dangling from his fingers and shook it off. He needed to concentrate on getting out of this cellar, not on his interest in Hannah’s mother.
He patted Hannah’s head. “We will go shopping as soon as your mamm returns. Let’s wait and see if she brings us any treasures.”
“Okay.” Hannah sat on her makeshift chair, put her elbows on her knees and propped her chin in her hands. “I wish Bella was here.”
Joshua sat gingerly in the chair with a broken arm. He sighed with relief when it held his weight. Remembering the black-and-white mutt that had been his inseparable companion when he was only a little bit older than Hannah, he asked, “What kind of dog is she?”
“She’s a yellow dog.”
Joshua smothered a grin and managed to say, “They’re the best kind.”
“Yup. She was Mammi Miriam’s dog, but when I was born, Bella wanted to belong to me.”
Mary returned with several jars in her hand. “These pears are still sealed and the rings were taken off so they aren’t rusty. If worst comes to worst, we can try them, but they are nearly three years old from what I can read of the labels.”
He grimaced. “Three-year-old pears don’t sound appetizing.”
“I wasn’t suggesting they were, but I’ve known people to eat home-canned food that was older than this.”
“Really? How can you tell if it’s bad?”
“If the seal is intact, if the food looks good and smells okay, it should be okay...” Her voice trailed off.
He folded his arms over his chest. “You go first.”
She rolled her eyes and he smiled. He could have been trapped with a much less enjoyable companion. “Come on, Hannah. We’re going shopping for a bed. I think I saw one earlier that might go with our decor.”
“What’s decor?” Hannah asked, jumping off her chair.
He gestured toward his clothing. “It means style.”
“What is your style?” Mary asked with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.
“Cobwebs and dust. What’s yours?” He leaned toward her. “How did you get your face clean?”
She blushed and looked down. “There is plenty of water dripping in on the other side. You could wash up if you’d like.”
“Good idea. Come on, Hannah. Let’s get some of this decor off of us.”
“Ja, it’s yucky.”
Mary stopped Hannah. She lifted the girl’s apron off over her head, tore it in two and handed him the pieces. “Use this to wash and dry with. It’s the cleanest thing you’ll find down here.”
“Danki.” As he took it from her, his fingers brushed against hers, sending a tiny thrill across his skin. She immediately thrust her hands in the pockets of her dress and her blush deepened.
She was a pretty woman. He liked the way wisps of her blond hair had come loose from beneath her kapp and curled around her face. He liked her smile, too. Would he have noticed her if they hadn’t been forced together? In truth, he wouldn’t have looked twice if he saw her with a child. He realized he was staring and turned away. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable.
After washing Hannah’s face and his own, Joshua returned to find Mary had put the candle stubs he’d seen in a small jar. She was melting them over the flame of the candle on the tub. Hannah had found a worn-out broom with a broken handle. She began using it to sweep the floor of her house. “We didn’t find a stove, Mamm.”
Joshua gestured toward Mary’s jar. “Are you going to make me eat wax for supper because I don’t want your ancient pears?”
Using a piece of broken glass, she cut the ribbons off her kapp. “Nee, I’m making more candles.”
“Smart thinking.” The lantern had been flickering. It would go out soon and he hadn’t found more kerosene.
She flashed him a shy smile before looking down. “I have my moments.”
He noticed she had opened one of the jars of fruit. “Did you eat some of that?”
She nodded. “If I don’t get sick, it should be fine for the two of you.”
“I’m not sure that was smart thinking. Were they good?”
“As sweet as the day they were canned, but kind of mushy. Would you like some?”
“I’ll pass. I might have to take care of you if you get sick. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
She glanced up. “I feel fine. Did you find a bed for Hannah?”
He sat down in the chair. “Just some rusty box springs and a pile of burlap sacks. I’ll bring them over later. It’s not much, but it will have to do. I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything for you.”
“The rocker will suit me fine.” She dipped her ribbon in the melted wax and pulled it out. Letting it harden, she waited a little while and then dipped it again. Each time she pulled it out, the candle grew fatter. Hannah came over and Mary allowed her to start her own candle.
It was pleasant watching them work by lantern light. Mary was patient with her daughter, teaching her by showing her what to do and praising her when she did well. Outside, the sound of rain faded away. The storm was over. Would someone find them soon?
“You mentioned you were here inspecting the property. Where is home?”
He gingerly settled back in his chair. “My family has a farm and a small business near a place called Bowmans Crossing. It’s north and west of Berlin.”
“Do you have a big family?” Hannah asked.
“Four brothers, so not very big.”
Hannah gave a weary sigh. “I want a brother and a sister, but Mamm says no.”
Joshua chuckled.
Mary refused to look at him. “You have Bella. That’s enough.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Your mamm needs a husband first, Hannah.”
Hannah’s eyes widened and she held up a hand. “That’s what Mammi Ada says. She says Mamm will turn into an old maedel if we don’t find her a husband soon.”
Joshua tipped his head to the side as he regarded Mary’s crimson cheeks. “I think she has a few years yet. Tell your grandmother not to worry.”
“I wish you two would stop talking about me as if I weren’t here. Your candle is thick enough, Hannah. I think Joshua should make up a bed for you.”
Hannah looked at her in shock. “You mean we have to sleep here?”
Mary cupped her daughter’s cheek. “I’m afraid so.”
“I sure wish this adventure was over. Can I have supper now?”
Mary glanced at Joshua. He shrugged. “If you feel okay, I don’t see why not.”
Hannah enjoyed eating sticky pear halves with her fingers while Joshua fixed a makeshift bed for her. It wasn’t much, but it would keep her off the cold damp floor. She made a face as she crawled onto the burlap bags. Mary checked the edge of her apron and found it was dry now. She pulled it off and used it to cover Hannah. It wasn’t long before the child was asleep. The lamp died a few minutes later.
Joshua lit the candle that Mary had made and stuck it to the middle of the tub. It would burn out long before the night was over. Mary settled in the rocker, but he knew she didn’t sleep any better than he did. The long night crawled past. He had no way to tell time. He simply had to endure the darkness, as he had done in prison.
The distant rumble of thunder woke him some time later. He lifted his head and winced at the pain in his neck. Opening his eyes, he realized he was still in the cellar. It was dark, but he could make out Mary’s form in the other chair.
She sat forward and bent her neck slowly from side to side. “Is it morning?”
“I think so.”
“It’s raining again.”
“Ja.”
“I was dreaming about bacon and eggs.”
His stomach rumbled. “I was dreaming about three-year-old pears.”
“Really?”
“Nee, I wasn’t dreaming at all. If I was, I’d wake up and find I was at home in my own bed.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
They both stood and stretched. She looked at him. “What’s the plan for today?”
He rubbed his bristly cheeks with both hands. “I thought you had a plan.”
“I’m sure it’s your turn to come up with something. I thought of making the candles.”
He nudged the broken rocker with his boot. “Which was good, but I thought of finding furniture for our snug little home. It’s your turn to be brilliant.”
“I’ve never felt less brilliant in my life. What would you like for breakfast? I believe we have more three-year-old pears or some four-year-old peaches.”
“Peaches,” Hannah said, sitting up on her makeshift mattress.
“Peaches,” he agreed. “Provided they look safe.”
After their meal, they spent more time exploring for a way out without success. By noon, the rain had moved on and a few narrow beams of sunlight streamed through cracks in the floorboards overhead, allowing them to see their dismal surroundings a little better.
Joshua studied the cracks for a while. “I think I might be able to knock some of the floor planks loose if I can find something sturdy to reach them.”
“I knew you would have a plan.” Mary began to search through the piles of junk and he joined her.
The best thing he could come up with was a post about five feet long and two inches thick. He chose a spot overhead, wrapped some cloth around one end of the wood to prevent slivers and began thrusting it upward. Mary and Hannah stood nearby watching him. After half an hour, his arms were aching, the end of the post was beginning to splinter and the floorboard above him had only been displaced by an inch. It was something, but it wasn’t enough.
Mary reached for his battering ram. “Let me work on it for a while. Do you think we’d do better to try and knock a hole in the cellar door?”
He handed her the wooden post. “It’s reinforced with metal straps and I didn’t see any light shining in through it. There’s no telling what’s on top of it. I know it’s open above me here.”
They took turns working for several hours and had the ends of two planks above them loose when Mary suddenly grabbed his arm. “Wait. Stop. I hear a dog.”
The barking grew louder.
Hannah got up off the floor and began jumping. “I hear Bella.”
Joshua gave a mighty heave and the floorboard broke, leaving a narrow space open. They looked at each other. “Neither of us can fit through that,” he said, his excitement ebbing away.
“Hannah might be able to.”
The sunlight dimmed and Joshua looked up. The head of a large yellow dog was visible above him. The dog barked excitedly. Hannah rushed to Joshua’s side. “I knew I heard Bella.”
“I hear voices, too.” Mary began shouting. A few moments later, the dog was pushed aside.
An English woman with brown hair knelt down to look in. “Mary, is that you? Is Hannah with you?”
Tears of joy streamed down Mary’s face. “We’re okay, Miriam, but we can’t get the cellar door open.”
“Thank God you are safe. We’ll get you out. Don’t worry. Nick, I found them!” She disappeared from view. The dog came back to the opening. She lay down and woofed softly.
Mary threw her arms around Joshua in an impulsive hug. “I knew they would find us. I just knew it.”
Bella barked again. As if Mary realized what she was doing, she suddenly stepped away from Joshua and crossed her arms. “It’s Miriam and Nick, my adoptive parents. Nick will get us out of here.”
Joshua heard activity at the door and the sounds of something heavy being dragged aside. “Looks like our prayers have been answered.”
Mary picked up Hannah. Joshua followed them as they hurried to the stairwell.
From the other side, a man said, “Everyone stand clear.”
“We are, Nick.” Mary replied. The sound of an ax striking the portal was followed by splintering wood. A hole appeared in the top of the door and grew rapidly. Through it, Joshua could see the leaves and limbs of a large tree that must have been holding the door shut. Mary’s father was swinging the ax like a madman. Joshua ached to help, but he could only stand by and wait.
Finally, the top section of the door broke free and a man’s hands reached in. “Give me Hannah.”
Mary handed the child over and then waited until the opening was enlarged. Joshua boosted her up and then climbed out on his own. The sunshine and the fresh air was a blessed relief from their dark, dank room. He blinked in the brightness and focused on Hannah in the arms of a woman in her early thirties. Mary was in the embrace of a man in a brown uniform. It wasn’t until he released her that Joshua realized he was an Englisch lawman.
Mary turned to him with a bright smile, but he couldn’t smile back. “Joshua, this is my adopted father, Sheriff Nick Bradley.”
A knot formed in the pit of Joshua’s stomach as dread crawled up his spine.
