Emma Miller - Leah's Choice

Daniel suddenly felt his foot slip in a water-filled hole and he threw his hands out to try to regain his balance. At the same moment, Leah grabbed his arm to steady him, keeping him from falling onto his bottom. “Thanks,” he said as he righted himself, giving her a sheepish smile.

“Careful where you step,” she cautioned. “You’ll do Joey no good if you twist an ankle.”

Leah’s grip was strong. Being a farm girl, he supposed she must be used to lifting hay bales and chopping wood, but he still felt a little foolish. He should have been the one coming to her rescue.

Caroline giggled. “And watch out for the cow pies.”

“Plenty of those out here too,” Leah agreed, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I’m good now.” Daniel pulled away his hand, telling himself he shouldn’t feel embarrassed. He’d have done the same for her, wouldn’t he?

Daniel had been glad when Samuel Mast had picked Leah to accompany his group.

“She knows these woods and fields,” Samuel had explained quietly to him. “We’re glad for your help, but it’s easy to get turned around out there if you don’t know where you’re going. You’ll be all right with Leah. She’s a sensible girl.”

Watching Leah in the dark, Daniel thought that it was probably a good assessment. She was dressed for the downpour in boots and a rain slicker and she’d brought her own flashlight. She was keeping the strong beam steady to light their way.

In spite of the confusion at the Grange, Daniel had noticed red-haired Leah right away. Not only was she particularly attractive, but he’d been struck by how worldly she’d seemed for a young Amish woman. Her starched white kapp and modest blue dress and cape had looked exactly like those of her companions, but Leah Yoder stood out among them. She maintained a certain poise he didn’t usually see in Amish women. It was immediately clear that she had a strong personality and was a take-charge type of person, all characteristics he admired.

Daniel remembered that when he was in Ohio recently, a cousin had talked at length about her Amish friend, Leah, from Delaware and the fun they’d had last summer at the county fair. He wondered if this could be the same Leah. It had to be. How many Amish Leahs could there be in Kent County, Delaware?

After all the search groups had been organized back in the barnyard, Samuel had suggested that each group choose a leader. Samuel had made a joke about Daniel not letting his girls get out of hand, and the other men had thought it funny.

Daniel ended up being the only man on an otherwise all-female team, but it didn’t matter to him. He’d promised his Aunt Joyce, Caroline and Leslie’s mother, that he’d look after them if they were allowed to help in the search. He had every intention of keeping his word, but once they’d left the barnyard, he suggested Leah take the leader’s position in the group.

“You don’t want to?” she’d asked. “I have to warn you, you might get some teasing from the men if they hear about it.”

“I’m not a country boy,” he’d explained. “It would be foolish for me to tell you where we should look for Joey. You know the area. Besides, I’d get us all lost in the dark, and search parties would have to come find us.”

Carolyn had chuckled. “He’s right, Leah. Daniel’s sense of direction isn’t that great. He got lost at Hershey Park with his church group.”

“I was only eight,” Daniel had protested. “And the whole family has teased me about it ever since.”

“Believe me,” Caroline had said. “We’re all safer if you lead the way, Leah.”

“All right,” Leah had agreed. “If you put it that way, but we may have to walk a long way and there will be fences to climb and briars to wade through.”

“Lead on, Sacagawea,” Daniel had said. “I promise not to wimp out.”

And here they were now, in the dark, in the rain, mud sucking at Daniel’s best leather shoes. His only pair of good shoes.

The pasture was huge. After they’d gone far enough that the house was only a small light in the distance, Caroline asked Leah if she knew how Joey had gotten lost in the first place.

Leah slowed her pace so that they could walk closer together. “Barbara—that’s Joey’s sister—told me that their mother had sent Abraham and Minnie to find their Jersey cow.”

“The Beachys must have a large family,” Leslie remarked.

“Fairly large.” Leah flashed the light across a hole to be sure they all saw it. “Joey has thirteen brothers and sisters.”

“So what happened in this hunt for the cow?” Caroline asked.

“Abraham and Minnie went out looking for Matilda,” Leah continued, keeping the flashlight beam steady ahead of them. “Watch out for that briar.” She pointed. “The spines are sharp enough to go through your clothes.”

“Who’s Matilda?”

“Matilda is the cow. Matilda hadn’t come in to be milked with the rest of the herd. Apparently she’s due to drop her calf in a few weeks, and Lydia was concerned about her. Pregnant cows sometimes wander off and hide, and a rainy April night is no place for a newborn calf.”

“Too cold, I suppose,” Daniel offered. He didn’t know a thing about cows, even less about cows having calves, but it seemed logical.

“True,” Leah agreed. “But more than that, there’s a pack of dogs in the neighborhood. Englishers like to drop their unwanted pets near our farms. I guess they think that we can take in every stray, but we can’t. It’s a real problem for farmers or anyone with livestock.” She sighed deeply. “There are four or five dogs in this particular pack. I doubt they were abandoned together, but they found each other. Left to fend for themselves, eventually even pets turn feral. They kill squirrels and deer and rabbits to live, but they find their way into barnyards. Penned animals are easier prey. My Uncle Reuben lost a milk goat to them this winter. I’m sure Lydia was afraid that if Matilda dropped her calf, the dogs would smell the blood and come after them.”

“Almost like wolves.” Leslie looked around fearfully.

“Could these dogs be a danger to a child?” Caroline asked.

“I hope not, but you never know.” Leah continued forward, lowering her head against the driving rain. “Anyway, Joey must have followed the bigger kids. When Abraham saw him, he was already angry with him because Joey had seen him accidentally spilling a bucket of milk this morning, and Joey had told their mother. Abraham got in trouble and, naturally, he blamed Joey, instead of his own carelessness.”

“Like my little brothers,” Caroline said. “They’re always getting into it. I never realized that Amish mothers had the same trouble.”

Leah chuckled. “We aren’t that different,” she reminded. “We may offer our prayers in a different form and dress differently, but kids are kids.”

“It’s like that all over the world,” Daniel put in. “But go on.”

“Anyway,” Leah continued. “It started to thunder, and Minnie got scared.”

“How old is she?” Leslie wanted to know.

“Minnie’s eight,” Leah said. “She started crying to go back to the house. Annoyed because they hadn’t found the cow and he still had chores to finish before dinner, Abraham told them both to go home. He told them he’d find Matilda himself.”

“But if Joey was with his sister,” Leslie said, “how did…”

“According to Minnie,” Leah went on, “Joey had gone only a short distance with her when there was thunder again and he decided that he wanted Abraham. He left Minnie to run back to his brother, leaving Minnie to think he was with Abraham, and Abraham believing Minnie had taken him back to the house. Abraham eventually found the missing cow, and drove her back to the barn, but he never saw Joey.”