Patricia Davids - A Home for Hannah

“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.”