Patricia Davids - A Home for Hannah

But that would mean facing Sheriff Nick Bradley.

“Miriam, what are you doing out there?” Her mother’s

frail voice came from inside the house.

Picking up the basket, Miriam carried it into the house and gently set it in the middle of the kitchen table. “Someone left a baby on our doorstep.”

Her mother, dressed in a white flannel nightgown, shuffled over, leaning heavily on her cane. “A boppli! Are you joking?”

“Nee, Mamm, I’m not. It’s a baby.”

Miriam’s first thought had been to call 9-1-1, until she remembered who the law was in Hope Springs. She’d cut off her right arm before she asked for his help. Who could she call?

Ada Kauffman came closer to the basket. “Did you see who left the child?”

“All I saw was a buggy driving away.”

Ada’s eyes widened with shock. “You think this is an Amish child?”

“I don’t know what else to think.”

Ada shook her head. “Nee, an Amish family would welcome a babe even if the mother was not married.”

“Maybe the mother was too afraid or ashamed to tell her parents,” Miriam suggested.

“If that is so, we must forgive her sins against Gott and against her child.”

That was the Amish way—always forgive first—even before all the details were known. It was the one part of the Amish faith that Miriam couldn’t comply with. Some things were unforgivable.

Miriam examined the basket. It was made of split wood woven into an oval shape with a flat bottom and handles on both sides. The wood was stained a pale fruitwood color with a band of dark green around the top for decoration. She’d seen similar ones for sale in shops that carried Amish handmade goods. The baby started to fuss. Miriam stared at her.

Her mother said, “Pick the child up, Miriam. They don’t bite.”

“I know that.” Miriam scooped the little girl from the folds of the quilt and softly patted her back. The poor thing didn’t even have a diaper to wear. Miriam’s heart went out to their tiny, unexpected guest. Not everyone was ready to be a parent, but how would it feel to be the child who grew up knowing she’d been tossed away in a laundry basket?

Stroking the infant’s soft, downy cap of hair, she felt the stirrings of maternal attachment. She couldn’t imagine leaving her child like this, alone in the darkness, depending on the kindness of strangers to care for it. Children were not to be discarded like unwanted trash.

Old shame and guilt flared in her heart. One child had been lost because of her inaction. This baby deserved better.

Putting aside her personal feelings, she called up the objective role she assumed when she was working. Carefully she laid the baby on the quilt again to examine it. As a nurse, her field of expertise was adult critical care, but she remembered enough of her maternal-child training to make sure the baby wasn’t in distress.

Without a stethoscope to aid her, it was a cursory exam at best. The little girl had a lusty set of lungs and objected to being returned to her makeshift bed. Who could blame her?

Ada started toward the stairs. “A little sugar water may satisfy her until you can go to town when the store opens and stock up on formula and bottles. I have your baby things put away in the attic. I’ll go get them. It’s wonderful to have a child in the house again.”

Miriam stared after her mother. “We can’t keep her.”

Ada turned back in surprise. “Of course we can. She was left with us.”

“No! We need to find out who her mother is. She has made a terrible mistake. We need to help her see that. We need to make this right.”

Ada lifted one hand. “How will you do that?”

“I...I don’t know. Maybe they left a note.” Miriam quickly checked inside the basket, but found nothing.

“Vel, until someone return for her, this boppli needs a crib and diapers.”

Miriam quickly tucked a corner of the quilt around the baby. “Mamm, come back here. You shouldn’t go climbing around in the attic. You’ve only been out of the hospital a week.”

A stormy frown creased her mother’s brow but quickly vanished. “I’m stronger than you think.”

That was a big part of her mother’s problem. She didn’t realize how sick she was. Miriam tried a different approach. “You have much more experience with babies than I do. You take her, and I’ll go hunt for the stuff.”

Her mother’s frown changed into a smile. “Ja, it has been far too long since I’ve held such a tiny one. Why don’t you bring me a clean towel to wrap her in first.”

Miriam did as her mother asked. After swaddling the babe, Ada settled into the rocker in the corner of the kitchen with the infant in her arms. Softly she began humming an Amish lullaby. It was the first time in ages that Miriam had seen her mother look content, almost...happy. Miriam knew her mother longed for grandchildren. She also knew it was unlikely she would ever have any.

Ada smiled. “I remember the night you and Mark were born. Oh, what a snowstorm there was. Your daed took so long to come with the midwife that I was afraid she would be too late.”

“But the midwife arrived in the nick of time.” Miriam finished the story she’d heard dozens of times.

“Ja. Such a goot, quiet baby you were, but your brother, oh, how he hollered.”

“Papa said it was because Mark wanted to be born first.”

“He had no patience, that child.” Ada began humming again, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Miriam struggled with her own sadness whenever she spoke of her twin brother. Mark’s death had changed everyone in the family, especially her, but the old story did spark an idea.

“Mamm, who is the local midwife?”

“Amber Bradley does most of the deliveries around Hope Springs.”

“Bradley? Is she related to...him? Is he married to her?” Did he have a wife and children of his own? Thinking about him with a family caused an odd ache in her chest. Miriam had taken pains to avoid meeting him during her months in Hope Springs. She realized she knew almost nothing about his current life.

Ada said, “Nee, he’s not wed. Amber may be a cousin. Ja, I’m sure I heard she was his cousin.”

Nicolas Bradley was the sheriff, the man Miriam had loved with all her heart when she was eighteen and the man responsible for Mark’s death. Would the midwife involve him? Miriam hesitated but quickly realized she had no choice. She didn’t have any idea how to go about searching for the baby’s mother. If Amber chose to notify Nick, Miriam would deal with it. She prayed for strength and wisdom to make the right decision.

“The midwife might have an idea who our mother is. She is certainly equipped to take care of a newborn. If nothing else, she will have a supply of formula and the equipment to make sure the baby is healthy.”

Ada frowned at her daughter. “I have heard she is a good woman, but she is Englisch, an outsider. This is Amish business. We should not involve her.”

“I’m no longer Amish, so it isn’t strictly Amish business. Besides, she may feel like we do and want to keep this out of the courts. I’m going to call her.”

“You know I don’t like having that telephone in my house.”

Her mother tolerated Miriam’s Englisch ways, but she hated to allow them in her Amish home. It was a frequent source of conflict between the two women.

Irritated, but determined to remain calm, Miriam said, “I’m not giving up my cell phone. You are a diabetic who has already had two serious heart attacks. You could need an ambulance at any time. If you want me to stay, I keep the phone.”

“I did not say you should leave. I said I do not like having the phone in my house. If I live or die, it is Gottes wille and not because you have a phone.”