Jo Brown - An Amish Reunion

He’d promised Hannah that he’d help her find out where her daed was. Hannah had been willing—albeit reluctantly—for him to speak with Reuben and get the bishop’s advice.

Why didn’t she want to use every method possible to find her daed? Daniel was sure she was as curious as he was about why Shelby had been left on the porch. Yet, she’d hesitated when he mentioned locating her daed.

Why?

You could have asked her. His conscience refused to let him ignore the obvious, but he had to admit that Hannah had her hands full when he left. As he closed the Lambrights’ door, he’d heard Shelby begin to cry in earnest. He’d almost gone back in, stopping himself because he wanted to get the search for her daed started as soon as possible.

Propane lamps were lit in the bishop’s large white house when Daniel arrived. He drove past the house and toward the whitewashed barns beyond it. Odors of overturned earth came from the fields. Reuben must be readying them for planting, using what time he had between storms.

Stopping the buggy, Daniel jumped out and walked to the biggest barn where the animals were stabled on the floor above the milking parlor. Through the uneven floorboards, he could hear the cows mooing. The bishop’s buggy team nickered as he walked past. Several mules looked over the stall doors, their brown eyes curious if he’d brought treats. He patted each one’s neck, knowing they’d had a long day in the fields spreading fertilizer.

He didn’t slow as he went down the well-worn steps to the lower floor. The cows stood in stanchions, and the rhythm of the milking machine run by a diesel generator in the small, attached lean-to matched his footsteps.

Reuben, a tall man who was muscular despite his years, stood up from between a pair of black-and-white cows. He held a milk can in each hand. The bishop’s thick gray beard was woven with a piece of hay, but Daniel didn’t mention it as he greeted the older man.

“You’re here late,” Reuben said in his deep voice.

“I’d like to get your advice.”

The bishop nodded. “I need to put this milk in the dairy tank.” He motioned for Daniel to follow him through a doorway.

“Let me take one.”

“Danki, but they’re balanced like this.” He hefted the milk cans with the strength of a man half his age.

Reuben had been chosen by the lot to be their bishop before Daniel was born. His districts were fortunate to have his gentle, but stern wisdom as well as his dedication to his responsibilities as their bishop. It wasn’t an easy life for a man with a family to support, because those selected by the lot to serve weren’t paid.

When Reuben went to the stainless steel tank where the milk was kept cold by the diesel engine, Daniel opened the top and checked that the filter was in place. He stepped back so Reuben could pour the milk in. As soon as both cans were empty, Reuben lifted out the filter and closed the top. He set the filter in a deep soapstone sink to clean later.

Wiping his hands on a ragged towel, Reuben said, “I hear you’ve got a new job. Fixing the Hunter’s Mill Creek Bridge.”

“Word gets around fast.” He chuckled.

“The Amish grapevine is efficient.”

Daniel had to smile. For people who didn’t use telephones and computers at home, news still managed to spread through the district. He wondered how long it would take for his neighbors to learn about Shelby. News of a kind being left on the Lambrights’ front porch was sure to be repeated with the speed of lightning.

“I went out to the bridge today,” Daniel said. “No work can be done until some bees are removed.”

“Bees?” The bishop leaned against the stainless steel tank. “Doesn’t Hannah Lambright keep bees? The bridge is close to her house, ain’t so? Maybe she’ll be willing to help.”

“I’ve already spoken with her. She’ll take care of the bees if I help her with a few things.”

“Sounds like an excellent solution.” Reuben folded his arms over the ends of his gray beard. He shifted and plucked out the piece of hay. Tossing it aside, he went on, “But from your face, Daniel, and the fact you want to talk with me, I’d guess there’s more to the story.”

“A lot.” In terse detail, Daniel outlined how he’d found the kind after she escaped from the basket. He told the bishop about the note from Hannah’s daed. “Hannah will take care of Shelby, of course, until her daed can be found.”

“Hannah already carries a heavy load of responsibilities with her great-grandmother. Some days, the old woman seems to lose her way, and Hannah must keep a very close watch on her.”

“I offered to help with Shelby.”

The bishop nodded. “A gut neighbor helps when the load becomes onerous.”

“And I also told Hannah I’d come to ask you about whether we should contact the police to get help in finding her daed. If you’re all right with her talking to the police, she agreed that she will.”

Reuben didn’t say anything for several minutes, and Daniel knew the bishop was pondering the problem and its ramifications. It was too big and important a decision to make without considering everything that could happen as a result.

Daniel wished his thoughts could focus on finding Hannah’s missing daed. Instead, his mind kept returning to the woman herself. Not just her beauty, though he’d been beguiled by it. No, he couldn’t keep from thinking how gentle and solicitous she was of the kind and her great-grandmother.

Some had whispered years ago Hannah was too self-centered, like her daed who hadn’t spared a thought for his daughter when he jumped the fence and joined the Englisch world. Daniel had never seen signs of Hannah being selfish when they were walking out. In fact, it’d been the opposite, because he found she cared too much about him. He hadn’t wanted her to get serious about him.

Getting married then, he’d believed, would have made a jumble of his plans to open a construction business. That spring, he’d hoped to submit the paperwork within a few weeks, and he thought being distracted by pretty Hannah might be a problem. In retrospect, it’d been the worst decision he could have made.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt Hannah. He’d thought she’d turn her attention to someone who could love her as she deserved to be loved. But he’d miscalculated. Instead of flirting with other young men, she’d stopped attending gatherings, sending word she needed to take care of her great-grandmother. At the time, he’d considered it an excuse, but now wondered if she’d been honest.

But whether she’d been or not, he knew one thing for sure. He’d hurt her, and he’d never forgiven himself. Nor had he asked for her forgiveness as he should have. Days had passed becoming weeks, then months and years, and his opportunity had passed.

“I thought we’d seen the last of Isaac Lambright,” Reuben said quietly as if he were talking to himself.

“That’s Hannah’s daed?”

The bishop nodded. “Isaac was the last one I guessed would go into the Englisch world. He was a gut man, a devout man who prized his neighbors and his plain life. But when his wife sickened, he changed. He began drinking away his pain. After Saloma died, he refused to attend the funeral and he left within days.”

“Without Hannah.” He didn’t make it a question. “But Isaac has come to Paradise Springs and left another daughter behind.”

“So it would seem.” The bishop sighed. “I see no choice in the matter. The Englisch authorities must be notified. Abandoning a kind is not only an abomination, but a crime. Has the kind said anything to help?”

“Shelby makes sounds she seems to think are words, because she looks at you as if you should know what she’s saying. It’s babbling.”