A Home for Hannah. Patricia Davids
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brother, oh, how he hollered.”
“Papa said it was because Mark wanted to be born first.”
“He had no patience, that child.” Ada began humming again, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Miriam struggled with her own sadness whenever she spoke of her twin brother. Mark’s death had changed everyone in the family, especially her, but the old story did spark an idea.
“Mamm, who is the local midwife?”
“Amber Bradley does most of the deliveries around Hope Springs.”
“Bradley? Is she related to...him? Is he married to her?” Did he have a wife and children of his own? Thinking about him with a family caused an odd ache in her chest. Miriam had taken pains to avoid meeting him during her months in Hope Springs. She realized she knew almost nothing about his current life.
Ada said, “Nee, he’s not wed. Amber may be a cousin. Ja, I’m sure I heard she was his cousin.”
Nicolas Bradley was the sheriff, the man Miriam had loved with all her heart when she was eighteen and the man responsible for Mark’s death. Would the midwife involve him? Miriam hesitated but quickly realized she had no choice. She didn’t have any idea how to go about searching for the baby’s mother. If Amber chose to notify Nick, Miriam would deal with it. She prayed for strength and wisdom to make the right decision.
“The midwife might have an idea who our mother is. She is certainly equipped to take care of a newborn. If nothing else, she will have a supply of formula and the equipment to make sure the baby is healthy.”
Ada frowned at her daughter. “I have heard she is a good woman, but she is Englisch, an outsider. This is Amish business. We should not involve her.”
“I’m no longer Amish, so it isn’t strictly Amish business. Besides, she may feel like we do and want to keep this out of the courts. I’m going to call her.”
“You know I don’t like having that telephone in my house.”
Her mother tolerated Miriam’s Englisch ways, but she hated to allow them in her Amish home. It was a frequent source of conflict between the two women.
Irritated, but determined to remain calm, Miriam said, “I’m not giving up my cell phone. You are a diabetic who has already had two serious heart attacks. You could need an ambulance at any time. If you want me to stay, I keep the phone.”
“I did not say you should leave. I said I do not like having the phone in my house. If I live or die, it is Gottes wille and not because you have a phone.”
“It might be God’s will that I carry a phone. Did you ever consider that?”
“I don’t want to argue.” Ada clamped her lips in a tight line signaling the end of the conversation.
Miriam crossed the room and dropped a kiss on her mother’s brow. “Neither do I. I have said I’ll only use the phone in an emergency and for work. I think this counts as an emergency.”
When her mother didn’t reply, Miriam quickly ran upstairs to her bedroom and pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her purse. A call to directory assistance yielded Amber Bradley’s number.
When a sleepy woman’s voice answered the phone, Miriam took a deep breath and hoped she was making the right decision. “Hi. You don’t know me. My name is Miriam Kauffman, and I have a situation.”
After Miriam explained what had transpired, Amber agreed to come check the baby and bring some newborn essentials. She also agreed to wait until they had discussed the situation before notifying the local law enforcement.
Miriam returned to the kitchen. Her mother was standing beside the kitchen table. She had taken the quilt out of the basket. Miriam said, “Amber Bradley is on her way. I convinced her to wait before calling the police, but I know she will. She has to.”
Ada held up an envelope. “I told you not to involve the Englisch. I found a note under the quilt. The child’s name is Hannah and her mother is coming back for her.”
* * *
The farmhouse door swung open before Sheriff Nick Bradley could knock. A woman with fiery auburn hair and green eyes stood framed in the doorway glaring at him. “There has been a mistake. We don’t need you here.”
The shock of seeing Miriam Kauffman standing in front of him took him aback. He was certain his heart actually stopped for a moment before chugging ahead with a painful thump. He struggled to hide his surprise. It had been eight years since he’d laid eyes on her. A lifetime ago.
He touched the brim of his trooper’s hat, determined to maintain a professional demeanor no matter what it cost him. How could she be more beautiful than he remembered? “Good morning to you, too, Miriam.”
After all this time, she 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. A physical ache filled his chest.
“Miriam, don’t be rude,” her mother chided from behind her. Miriam reluctantly stepped aside. A large yellow dog pushed past her and came out to investigate Nick’s arrival. It took only a second for the dog to decide he was a friend. She jumped up and planted both front feet on his chest. He welcomed the chance to regain his composure and focused his attention on the dog.
“Bella, get down,” Miriam scolded.
The dog paid her no mind. The mutt’s tail wagged happily as Nick rumpled her ears. He said, “That’s a good girl. Now down.”
The dog dropped to all fours, then sat quietly by his side. He nodded once to Miriam and entered the house. The dog stayed outside.
His cousin Amber sat at the kitchen table. “Hi, Nick. Thanks for coming. We do need your help.”
Ada Kauffman sat across from her. A large woven basket sat on the table between them. The room was bathed in soft light from two kerosene lanterns hanging from hooks on the ceiling. The Amish religion forbade the use of electricity in the home.
He glanced at the three women facing him. Ada Kauffman was Amish, from the top of her white prayer bonnet on her gray hair to the tips of her bare toes poking out from beneath her plain, dark blue dress. Her daughter, Miriam, had never joined the church, choosing to leave before she was baptized. Tonight, she wore simple dark slacks and a green blouse that matched her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest. If looks could shrivel a man, he’d be two feet tall in about a second.
His cousin Amber wore jeans, sneakers and a blue
T-shirt beneath a white lab coat. She served the Amish and non-Amish people of Hope Springs, Ohio, as a nurse midwife. Exactly what was she doing here? If Miriam’s trim figure was anything to go by she didn’t require the services of a midwife.
Amber wasn’t normally the cloak-and-dagger type. He was intensely curious as to why she had insisted he come in person before she’d tell him the nature of the call.
He said, “Okay, I’m here. What’s so sensitive that I had to come instead of sending one of my perfectly competent deputies? Make it snappy, Amber. I’m leaving in a few hours for a much-needed, week-long fishing trip, and I’ve got a lot to do.”
“This is why we called you.” Amber gestured toward the basket. He took a step closer and saw a baby swaddled in the folds of a blue quilt.
“You called me here to see a new baby? Congratulations to whomever.”
“Exactly,” Miriam said.
He looked at her closely. “What am I missing?”
Amber said, “It’s more about what we are missing.”
“And that is?” he demanded. Somebody had better start making sense.
Ada said, “A mother to go with this baby.”
He shook his head. “You’ve