Patricia Davids - A Home for Hannah

The Prodigal Daughter Returns...

Yearning to find a meaningful life in the outside world, nurse Miriam Kaufman strayed far from her Amish community. She also needed distance from Nick Bradley, the cop who had caused her so much pain. Back in Hope Springs to care for her ailing mother, Miriam needs Nick, now sheriff, to find the mother of Hannah, the baby abandoned on her porch. Nick is as wary of Miriam’s intentions as she is of facing their past. Can two wounded hearts overcome their history to do what’s best for little Hannah?

“It wasn’t my idea to call you. We don’t want you here.”

The shock of seeing Miriam Kauffman standing in front of him took Sheriff Nick Bradley aback, but he quickly hid his surprise. It had been eight years since he’d laid eyes on her. A lifetime ago.

“Good morning to you, too, Miriam.”

She pressed her lips together in a tight, tense line. After all this time, she still wasn’t any better at hiding her opinion of him. She looked ready to spit nails. Proof, if he needed it, that she hadn’t forgiven him.

“This is why we called you.” Amber gestured toward the basket.

“You called me here to see a new baby? Congratulations to whomever.”

“Exactly,” Miriam said.

“What am I missing?”

“It’s more about what we are missing.”

“And that is?” Nick demanded.

“A mother to go along with this baby.”

PATRICIA DAVIDS

After thirty-five years as a nurse, Pat has hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her new free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her on the web at www.patriciadavids.com.

A Home for Hannah

Patricia Davids

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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But we are bound to give thanks always to God for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth.

—2 Thessalonians 2:13

In memory of Dave.

The one, the only, the love of my life.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Dear Reader

Questions For Discussion

Chapter One

“Bella, what’s wrong with you?” Miriam Kauffman pulled her arm from beneath the quilt to squint at her watch. The glow-in-the-dark numbers read one forty-five in the morning. Her dog continued scratching frantically at the door to her bedroom.

Miriam slipped her arm back under the covers. “I’m not taking you out in the middle of the night. Forget it.”

Her yellow Labrador-pointer mix had other ideas. Bella began whining and yipping as she scratched with renewed vigor.

Miriam was tempted to pull her pillow over her ears, but she wasn’t the only person in the house. “Be quiet. You’re going to wake Mother.”

Bella’s whining changed to a deep-throated bark. At eighty-five pounds, what Bella wanted Bella usually got. Giving up in exasperation, Miriam threw back her quilt.

Now that Bella had her owner’s attention, she plopped on her haunches and waited, tongue lolling with doggy happiness. In the silence that followed, Miriam heard a new sound, the clip-clop of hoofbeats.

Miriam moved to her second-story bedroom window. In the bright moonlight, she saw an Amish buggy disappearing down the lane.

When she was at home in Medina, such a late-night visit would mean only one thing—a new Amish runaway had come seeking her help to transition into the outside world. But how would anyone know to find her in Hope Springs? Who in the area knew of her endeavors? She hadn’t told anyone, and she was positive her mother wouldn’t mention the fact.

Miriam pulled a warm cotton robe over her nightgown and grabbed a flashlight from the top of her dresser. She patted Bella’s head. “Good girl. Good watchdog.”

Guided by the bright circle of light, she made her way downstairs in the dark farmhouse to the front door. Bella came close on her heels. The second Miriam pulled open the door, the dog was out like a shot. Bella didn’t have a mean bone in her body, but her exuberance and size could scare someone who didn’t know her.

“Don’t be frightened—she won’t hurt you,” Miriam called out quickly as she opened the door farther. She expected to find a terrified Amish teenager standing on her stoop, but the porch was empty. Bella was nosing a large basket on the bottom step.

Miriam swung her light in a wide arc. The farmyard was empty. Perhaps the runaway had changed his or her mind and returned home. If so, Miriam was glad. It was one thing to aid young Amish people who wanted to leave their unsympathetic families when she’d lived in another part of the state. It was an entirely different thing now that she was living under her Amish mother’s roof. The last thing she wanted to do while she was in Hope Springs was to cause her mother further distress.

Bella lay down beside the basket and began whining. Miriam descended the steps. “What have you got there?”

Pushing the big dog aside, Miriam realized the basket held a quilt. Perhaps it was a meant as a gift for her mother. The middle of the night was certainly an odd time to deliver a package. She started to pick it up, but a tiny mewing sound made her stop. It sounded like a baby.

Miriam straightened. There’s no way someone left a baby on my doorstep.

Bella licked Miriam’s bare toes, sending a chill up her leg. She definitely wasn’t dreaming.

She took a few steps away from the porch to carefully scan the yard with her light. “If this is someone’s idea of a prank, I’m not laughing.”

Silence was the only reply. She waited, hoping it was indeed a joke and someone would step forward to fess up.

The full moon hung directly overhead, bathing the landscape in pale silvery light. A cool breeze swept past Miriam’s cheeks carrying the loamy scent of spring. The grass beneath her bare feet was wet with dew and her toes grew colder by the second. She rested one bare foot on top of the other. No snickering prankster stepped out of the black shadows to claim credit for such an outrageous joke.

Turning back to the porch, she lifted the edge of the quilt and looked into the basket. Her hopes that the sounds came from a tape recorder or a kitten vanished when her light revealed the soft round face of an infant.

She gazed down the lane. The buggy was already out of sight. There was no way of knowing which direction the driver had taken when he or she reached the highway.

Why would they leave a baby with her? A chill that had nothing to do with the cold morning slipped down her spine. She didn’t want to be responsible for this baby or any other infant. She refused to let her mind go to that dark place.

A simple phone call would bring a slew of people to look after this child. It was, after all, a crime to abandon a baby. As a nurse, she was required by law to report this.