Читать книгу A Home for Hannah - Patricia Davids - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Miriam had recovered her composure by the time she came downstairs. She saw Nick rocking Hannah while her mother was busy wiping down the dusty cradle. Miriam’s eyes were drawn to the note still sitting in the plastic bag on the table. Somewhere, a young woman needed her help. She would concentrate on that and not on her tumultuous emotion.

She said, “It sounds like Hannah’s mother is in an abusive relationship.”

Nick said, “We’re only guessing.”

Miriam bit the corner of her lip. A young mother was having the worst day of her life. She’d done the unthinkable. She’d left her newborn baby on a doorstep. In her young eyes, the situation must have seemed desperate and hopeless. Miriam’s heart went out to her. At least, she had chosen to give her child a chance. It was more than others had done.

Nick said, “The note raises questions in my mind about the mother’s emotional state and about her situation but doesn’t spell out a crime. I’ll have it checked for fingerprints, but that’s a long shot. If the person who wrote the note is Amish, I doubt we’ll have his or her prints on file.”

Miriam held up the bag to study the handwriting. “You think the father may have written this?”

“I think our mother had help. Do you believe a new mother could harness up the horse and buggy drive out here after she’d just given birth? That’s one hardy woman if she did it alone.”

Nodding, Miriam said, “You have a point.”

Ada finished cleaning the cradle and covered the mattress with a clean quilt. “Amish women are tough. I know several who have had their child alone, and then driven to the home of a relative.”

Nick handed the baby to Ada. “That may be, but I have to consider the possibility that she had help. Miriam, did you see which way the buggy turned after it reached the highway?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t.” Miriam racked her memory of those few moments when the buggy had been in sight for something—anything that would help, but came up empty.

Somewhere a young woman needed help or she wouldn’t have taken the drastic measure of leaving her baby on a doorstep. Miriam had spent too many hours with confused, frightened Amish teenagers not to know the signs. This was a deep cry for help. She had turned her back on one desperate mother years ago. Nothing but bitter ashes had flowed from that decision. She would not do it again. This time, she had to help.

Turning around, she grabbed her denim jacket from the peg by the door. “The lane is still muddy from the rain yesterday. We might be able to tell which way they turned.”

“Good thinking.” Nick pulled the door open and held it for her. Bella was waiting for them outside. She jumped up to greet Nick with muddy paws. He pushed her aside with a stern, “No.” Bella complied.

Miriam glanced over her shoulder. “Mamm, it’s time to check your blood sugar. This added stress and lack of sleep could easily throw it out of whack.”

“All right, dear. I’ll get the baby settled and I’ll check it.” She rocked the baby gently in her arms and cooed to her in Pennsylvania Dutch.

“You know what to do if it’s low?”

“Ja. I’ll have a glass of milk and recheck it in thirty minutes. The honey is in the cabinet if it is too low, but I feel fine. Stop worrying.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Worrying was what Miriam did best these days. Her mother didn’t seem to realize how precarious her health was.

Outside, Miriam walked beside Nick down the lane. He asked, “How long has your mother been ill?”

“She had her first heart attack seven months ago. That’s when they discovered she was a diabetic. She had a second heart attack three weeks ago. Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as the first one. She’s been doing okay, but I think she should be recovering more quickly than she has. Her energy level is so low. Everything makes her tired, and that frustrates her.”

“You’ve been here in Hope Springs for seven months?” He seemed amazed.

“Yes.” She’d taken pains to remain under his radar. Coming face-to-face with Nick was the last thing she wanted. His presence brought back all the pain and guilt she’d worked so hard to overcome. Now, he was in her home and in her business with no signs of leaving. Why hadn’t she followed her mother’s advice and left the midwife out of this?

“I imagine you had to quit your job in order to stay this long.” His sympathetic tone showed real compassion. It was hard to stay angry with him when he was being nice.

“I took a leave of absence from my job. My leave will be up in another month. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t go back by then.”

“That’s got to be hard on both of you.”

“She doesn’t have anyone else.” As soon as Miriam said it, she regretted pointing out the obvious.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his voice was neutral when he spoke. “We both know the Amish community will take care of Ada. She isn’t alone.”

“I know they will keep her fed and clothed, but she needs more than that. She needs someone to monitor her blood pressure and glucose levels and to make sure she takes her meds. She needs someone to make sure she eats the right things. If one more person drops by with a pan of cinnamon rolls or shoofly pie for her, I’m going to bar the door.”

“Want to borrow my gun?” There was a hint of laughter in his tone.

“Don’t tempt me,” she replied, amazed that he could so easily coax a smile from her. Her anger slipped further away. They had both suffered a loss when Mark died, but their lives hadn’t stopped. Nick had managed to move on. Perhaps she could, too.

He stopped and squatted on his heels to examine the ground. “My tires have erased any tracks the buggy might have left. I don’t see anything distinctive about the horseshoe marks.”

“Do you think the mother was coerced into leaving the baby?”

He rose and hooked his thumbs in his wide belt as he scanned the countryside. “Frankly, I don’t know what to think. The whole thing doesn’t fit. The Amish don’t operate this way. It’s so out of character.”

“The Amish have flaws and secrets like everyone else.” She would know. Flaws and secrets haunted her, every day and every night.

He must’ve heard something odd in her voice for he fixed her with an intense stare. She gazed at her feet.

He asked, “Who knows you are a nurse? Is it common knowledge?”

“I’m sure my mother has mentioned it to some of her friends.”

“Did you notice the note said ‘Meet me here a week from tonight.’ Did that strike you as odd?”

“A little. Why?”

“I don’t know. It just didn’t seem to fit. What about someone from your past? An Amish friend who might know you’re here with your mother.”

“No, there’s no one like that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“We were Swartzentruber Amish, remember? They are the strictest of the Old Order Amish. When I refused to join the faith, my parents had to shun me. My friends did the same. It wasn’t until after my father died that my mother chose to become a member of a less rigid order.”

“Didn’t that mean she would be excommunicated by her old bishop?”

“Yes. She gave up her friends and the people she’d known all her life. It was very hard, but she did it so that she could see me again. She was accepted into Bishop Zook’s congregation about a year ago. They are more progressive here. Unlike my old congregation, Bishop Zook’s church believes a person has the right to choose the Amish faith. Those who don’t are not punished.”

He said, “Bishop Zook is not the only bishop who believes that. Amber’s mother and my mother are sisters who both chose not to join the faith. They have siblings who remained Amish. My grandmother embraces all her family, Amish and English alike.”

“Some districts are that way, some are more strict, some are rigid in their beliefs and don’t tolerate any exceptions. People hear the word Amish and they think the Plain People are all the same. There are enormous differences.”

Miriam cocked her head to the side. “Wait a minute. If your mothers are sisters, why do you share the same last name with Amber?”

He grinned and started walking again, scanning the ground as he went. “Our mothers are sisters who married two brothers. Got to love small-town romances. Where did you live before you moved in with your mom?”

“Medina, Ohio.”

Bella left Miriam’s side and went hunting through the old corn stubble of the field beside them. It would soon be time for the farmer who rented her mother’s land to begin planting new crops.

“What kind of nursing do you do?” Nick asked, slanting a curious glance her way.

Was he really interested? “I work in adult critical care.”

“That’s a tough job.”

“Overdoses, strokes, trauma, heart attacks, we see it all.”

“And car accidents.” He looked away, but she saw the tension that came over him.

“Yes, car accidents,” she replied softly.

She expected him to drop the subject, but to her surprise, he didn’t. “Do you like it? I mean, not all the outcomes can be good.”

“Every patient deserves the chance to reach their full potential. I’m part of a team that works to make that happen. Sometimes, what they regain isn’t as much as they had before their event, but it’s not for lack of trying on our part. For every loss of life, we see a dozen recoveries.” It struck her as odd to be talking about her work with Nick, but she wanted him to know she was about making a difference in people’s lives and she loved her work.

“When do you find the time to foster little kids?”

“I don’t. I foster teens.”

“Really?”

She met his gaze. There was a new respect in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. Lifting her chin, she said, “They are mostly Amish runaways.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Today has been chock full of surprises.”

“You don’t approve? They are kids with nothing but an eighth-grade education. They don’t have driver’s licenses or social security cards. They are completely ill prepared for life in the outside world.”

“I know that.”

“If by some stroke of luck they can find work, they have to take low-paying jobs. Most get paid under the table from employers happy to take advantage of them. Without outside help, leaving the Amish is almost impossible for some of them.”

“You left.”

She started walking again. “Don’t think it was easy.”

“When did you start hating the Amish way of life?”

Stunned, she spun to face him. “I don’t hate it. It’s a beautiful way to live. The Amish believe in simplicity. Their lives are focused on faith in God and in keeping close family and community ties.”

Quietly, he said, “They believe in forgiveness, too, Miriam.”

“It sounds easy to say you forgive someone. Actually doing it is much harder. Did they ever catch the man who shot your father?”

He looked away. “No.”

“It’s tough when there’s no justice in life, isn’t it?”

Meeting her gaze, he nodded. “Yes. That’s why I trust that God will be the ultimate judge of men.”

She waited for the boiling anger to engulf her, but it didn’t materialize. Maybe she was just too tired. She wanted to stay angry at him, but it was easier when she couldn’t see the pain in his eyes. He knew what it was to lose someone he loved.

Nick started walking again. “If you admire the Amish, why help kids leave?”

“Because there are other ways to live that are just as important and as meaningful. You can’t be a doctor or a nurse if you are Amish. You can’t create new medicines or go to college, build dams or explore the oceans. You can’t question the teachings of your church leaders. That said, two-thirds of the teenagers who come to me wanting a taste of Englisch life go back to their Amish families. Why? Because it’s what they desire in their hearts. My job is to help them sort out what they truly want.”

“Okay, I get it. That’s cool.” He walked to the edge of the highway and sank to his heels again as he examined the ground.

Did he get what she did and why? Or was he simply trying to placate her? She stopped a few feet away from him. Her shifting emotions made it difficult to stay focused on the task at hand.

He looked at her. “Could your efforts to help Amish youth be the reason someone brought this baby to you?”

“I don’t think so. No one here knows what I do in Medina. My mother doesn’t approve. While I’m living under her roof, I have to respect her feelings. Most people know me only as a driver for hire. I needed some kind of income while I’m here, and I can’t spend the long hours away from Mom that a nursing job would require.”

He gestured toward the road. “Our buggy went toward Hope Springs. See the way the impression of the wheels turn here and carried the mud out onto the highway.”

“I do.” She gazed at the thin tire track disappearing down the winding roadway. She could see half a dozen white Amish farmhouses along either side of the road before the road vanished over the hill. How many Amish families lived in that direction or on one of the many roads that branched off the highway? Fifty? A hundred? Where would they start looking for one scared, desperate young woman?

“Ah, now this is useful.” Nick took a step closer to the roadway. A small puddle had formed after the rain. The imprint of the buggy wheel was deep where it rolled through the mud.

“What is it?” she asked.

He pointed to the print. “The buggy we are looking for has a jagged crack in the steel rim of the left rear wheel. If it breaks all the way through, someone is going to need a new rim put on.”

“It looks like a crooked Z. It should be easy enough to spot.”

He stood and rubbed a hand over his jaw. He took another stick of gum from his pocket, unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. Carefully he folded the silver foil into a star. He noticed her stare and said, “I quit smoking a few years ago, but I can’t kick the gum habit.”

He had his share of struggles like everyone else. It made him more human. Something she wasn’t prepared to see.

She looked away and asked, “How do we begin searching for Hannah’s mother?”

“Even if I had the manpower to launch a full-scale investigation, I couldn’t check every buggy wheel in the district. Most Amish families have three or four buggies, depending on how many of their kids are old enough to drive. It could take months.”

“And Hannah has only two weeks before her mother’s

rights are severed if she doesn’t return.”

“Time may not be on her side.”

“That’s it? You’re going to give up before we’ve started? I’m sorry I let Amber call you. I can tell you aren’t going to go out of your way to save this family. I don’t know why I thought you would.”

* * *

Nick studied the myriad expressions that crossed Miriam’s face and wondered where such passion came from.

He said, “I’m not sure I know what you want me to do?”

“We have a letter asking for help. We can’t ignore it. This young girl’s life may be ruined by a rash decision. I don’t think we should wait for her to come back. I think we should go find her.”

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

It was as if his question had caused a mask to fall over her face. Her expression went completely neutral. Instead of answering his question, she said meekly, “I want to help, that’s all.”

Miriam’s abrupt switch triggered his cop radar. She was hiding something. By her own admission few people knew she was a nurse. Fewer still would know that she aided Amish youth looking to leave their faith and go out into the world. Was accepting an unwanted baby part of her plan to help an unwed Amish girl escape into the Englisch life?

He didn’t want to believe she would lie to him, but did he really know her? They hadn’t spoken in years. People changed.

Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that Hannah had been left on Miriam’s doorstep. If the mother knew Miriam, would she be able to stay away? He figured she would need to know how her little girl was doing. The sight of Miriam with the child just might draw that woman out if she were still in the Hope Springs area. He wanted to be around when that happened. It would mean spending time, lots of time, in Miriam’s company.

Could he keep his mind on his job when she was near? At the moment, all he wanted to do was run his fingers through her gorgeous hair. The early morning sun brought fiery highlights to life in her red-gold, shoulder-length mane as it moved like a dense curtain around her face and neck. It was the first time he’d seen her without the white bonnet the Amish called a prayer kapp. In his youth, he’d fantasized about what her hair would look like down. His imaginings paled in comparison to the beauty he beheld at the moment.

He realized he was staring when she scowled at him. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he asked, “Are you sure you can’t think of anyone who might be Hannah’s mother? Maybe you gave a ride to her or to her family recently and mentioned you were a nurse.”

“No one stands out. Believe me, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think who she might be.”

“I need to get back to the office and have our note and the hamper run for prints. Why don’t you make up a list of the families who might know you’re a nurse? We can go over them later. Something may click in the meantime. If it does, give me a call.”

They returned to the house, covering the quarter mile in silence. When they reached his SUV, Miriam whistled for the dog. As Bella ambled up, she stopped to give Nick a parting lick on the hand. He patted her side. “She’s a nice dog.”

“Thank you.”

“When did you rescue her from the pound?”

Miriam paused. “How did you know that?”

“It seems to be your MO.”

“My what?”

“Your modus operandi, your mode of operation. Runaway teens, sick people, foundling babies—it just makes sense that your dog would be a rescue, too.”

Her frown turned to a fierce scowl. “Don’t think you know me, Nick Bradley, because you don’t. You don’t know me at all.”

She turned on her heels and marched toward the house.

At the porch, she stopped and looked back. “My mother was right. This is Amish business. We will handle it ourselves. Have a great vacation.”