Kit Wilkinson - Lancaster County Target

Blake shook hands with the couple, admiring their Amish dress, which matched Eli’s and Hannah’s exactly—trousers, suspenders and simply cut shirts for the men, plain blue dresses and black aprons for the women. Little Stephen wore a miniature version of the grown men’s clothing. He whispered something to his father, then took off out the front door.

“He likes to visit all of Eli’s stock. We don’t have the cattle Eli has here. He’s fascinated by it,” Jonathan explained. He had the same peculiar, square beard as Eli did, only around the jawline. No mustache. A strange and unique look. Blake couldn’t remember seeing anything like it before.

Mary’s hair, like Hannah’s, was tucked up in a white Kapp. He glanced at Abigail and her long blond braid, maybe a little glad it wasn’t hidden under a Kapp. He wondered what it might look like loose and free-flowing.

“We heard you had some trouble up at the hospital,” Jonathan said.

“Ja, you could say that.” Abby spun around with the tiny infant. “How did you hear?”

The couple explained how the news had spread from the hospital to another couple from the church to their neighbors. “We didn’t know if Eli had heard, so we thought we should come over. We knew he’d want to know about his sister. We should have figured you’d be here telling him yourself.”

“I’m glad you came. It’s good to see you and the children. Just what I needed to get my mind off this afternoon.”

Some conversation passed in Pennsylvania Dutch. Blake sat back and listened to the lilting, rolling language. He didn’t know if the talk was about him or the happenings at the hospital, but either way the language relaxed him. Called to him. Could it be that Amish blood ran through his veins? If he hadn’t been put up for adoption, could he have grown up in a room like this instead of in a penthouse that overlooked Central Park?

“Well, at least you didn’t go to the bishop.” Abby broke back into English.

“Oh, but we did.” Mary smiled. “We passed by there on the way here. He hadn’t heard. He is very concerned. He would have been over to see you himself if he had not already had some other church business to attend to tonight. He assumed your brother would be looking after you as soon as he heard the news. But you should expect the bishop in the morning.”

“Danki.”

Even Blake could tell Abby was not happy about this news. She was not pleased that this bishop person knew her business.

“So, who is the bishop? Is he an elder of the church?” Blake asked.

Eli and Jonathan smiled at him. They looked at Abby. Everyone seemed to be holding back a laugh.

Except for Abigail. She turned, a sad frown under her big blue eyes. “The bishop is the leader of the Ordnung. The leader of the Amish church. He’s also my father.”

There was a second of silence over the room then the front door burst open like a bomb had blown it off its hinges. Little Stephen came running inside. He was pale and out of breath, and his hat was missing.

“What is it, Stephen?” his mother asked.

Her son ran into her arms, letting loose an onslaught of tears he’d bravely held back until that moment. He told his parents what had happened. Again, Blake couldn’t understand the Amish language. But he watched as the rest of the people in the room reacted grimly to the boy’s tale.

Whatever he said, it was not happy news. Several times they all looked at Abigail, who’d grown pale. As the boy finished, Abby put a hand to her head as if it ached worse than ever.

Eli stood and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. He nodded to Jonathan, and the two men headed for the door.

“Is something wrong? Can I help?” Blake stood with the other men.

Eli turned back, his expression bleak. “Someone is in the stable. He grabbed little Stephen and told him to go back to the house. He told him to tell Miss Miller that he is watching.”

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