A Home for Hannah. Patricia Davids

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A Home for Hannah - Patricia Davids


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mother chose to become a member of a less rigid order.”

      “Didn’t that mean she would be excommunicated by her old bishop?”

      “Yes. She gave up her friends and the people she’d known all her life. It was very hard, but she did it so that she could see me again. She was accepted into Bishop Zook’s congregation about a year ago. They are more progressive here. Unlike my old congregation, Bishop Zook’s church believes a person has the right to choose the Amish faith. Those who don’t are not punished.”

      He said, “Bishop Zook is not the only bishop who believes that. Amber’s mother and my mother are sisters who both chose not to join the faith. They have siblings who remained Amish. My grandmother embraces all her family, Amish and English alike.”

      “Some districts are that way, some are more strict, some are rigid in their beliefs and don’t tolerate any exceptions. People hear the word Amish and they think the Plain People are all the same. There are enormous differences.”

      Miriam cocked her head to the side. “Wait a minute. If your mothers are sisters, why do you share the same last name with Amber?”

      He grinned and started walking again, scanning the ground as he went. “Our mothers are sisters who married two brothers. Got to love small-town romances. Where did you live before you moved in with your mom?”

      “Medina, Ohio.”

      Bella left Miriam’s side and went hunting through the old corn stubble of the field beside them. It would soon be time for the farmer who rented her mother’s land to begin planting new crops.

      “What kind of nursing do you do?” Nick asked, slanting a curious glance her way.

      Was he really interested? “I work in adult critical care.”

      “That’s a tough job.”

      “Overdoses, strokes, trauma, heart attacks, we see it all.”

      “And car accidents.” He looked away, but she saw the tension that came over him.

      “Yes, car accidents,” she replied softly.

      She expected him to drop the subject, but to her surprise, he didn’t. “Do you like it? I mean, not all the outcomes can be good.”

      “Every patient deserves the chance to reach their full potential. I’m part of a team that works to make that happen. Sometimes, what they regain isn’t as much as they had before their event, but it’s not for lack of trying on our part. For every loss of life, we see a dozen recoveries.” It struck her as odd to be talking about her work with Nick, but she wanted him to know she was about making a difference in people’s lives and she loved her work.

      “When do you find the time to foster little kids?”

      “I don’t. I foster teens.”

      “Really?”

      She met his gaze. There was a new respect in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. Lifting her chin, she said, “They are mostly Amish runaways.”

      He stopped in his tracks. “Today has been chock full of surprises.”

      “You don’t approve? They are kids with nothing but an eighth-grade education. They don’t have driver’s licenses or social security cards. They are completely ill prepared for life in the outside world.”

      “I know that.”

      “If by some stroke of luck they can find work, they have to take low-paying jobs. Most get paid under the table from employers happy to take advantage of them. Without outside help, leaving the Amish is almost impossible for some of them.”

      “You left.”

      She started walking again. “Don’t think it was easy.”

      “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,


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