Amish Redemption. Patricia Davids
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How many people had lost their lives? She prayed now for all the people she knew beyond the stone walls keeping her prisoner. It was the only thing she could do to help.
Lifting the lantern, she moved across the crowded room to the shelves Joshua had indicated and searched through the contents. She glanced back to see him placing the tub as Hannah instructed in her imaginary house. The lantern flickered and Mary turned up the wick. She hated being trapped, but at least she didn’t have to face the situation alone.
A dozen times in the next half hour the eerie wailing of sirens rose and fell as they passed by on the highway a quarter of a mile away from the house. Each time, Mary’s hopes sprang to life and then ebbed away with the sound. She met Joshua’s eyes. They both knew it was a bad sign.
* * *
Joshua noticed the growing look of concern on Mary’s face. It didn’t surprise him. He was concerned, too. He had no idea when rescue would come. Would anyone think to search an old house that had been abandoned for months? Why would they? He racked his brain for a way to signal that they were here, but came up empty. Someone would have to come close enough to hear them shouting.
Hannah came to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Joshua, we need a stove and a bed now. Take me shopping again.”
She looked and sounded like a miniature version of her mother. He had to smile. “You are a bossy woman. Does your mother boss your daed that way?”
Hannah shook her head. “He died a long time ago. I don’t remember him. But I have Papa Nick.”
At first, Joshua had assumed Papa Nick was Englisch because Hannah connected him to the siren she heard. However, the siren could have belonged to one of the many Amish volunteer fire department crews that dotted the area. Was Papa Nick her new father, perhaps? He glanced to where Mary was searching the shelves and asked quietly, “Who is Nick?”
“He’s my papa Nick,” the child said, as if that explained everything.
“Is he your mother’s husband?”
“Nee.” She laughed at the idea.
He glanced at Mary with a new spark of interest. She wasn’t married, as he had assumed. It was surprising. Why would the men in this community overlook such a prize? Perhaps she was still mourning her husband. Joshua rubbed his chin. He noticed a bit of cobweb dangling from his fingers and shook it off. He needed to concentrate on getting out of this cellar, not on his interest in Hannah’s mother.
He patted Hannah’s head. “We will go shopping as soon as your mamm returns. Let’s wait and see if she brings us any treasures.”
“Okay.” Hannah sat on her makeshift chair, put her elbows on her knees and propped her chin in her hands. “I wish Bella was here.”
Joshua sat gingerly in the chair with a broken arm. He sighed with relief when it held his weight. Remembering the black-and-white mutt that had been his inseparable companion when he was only a little bit older than Hannah, he asked, “What kind of dog is she?”
“She’s a yellow dog.”
Joshua smothered a grin and managed to say, “They’re the best kind.”
“Yup. She was Mammi Miriam’s dog, but when I was born, Bella wanted to belong to me.”
Mary returned with several jars in her hand. “These pears are still sealed and the rings were taken off so they aren’t rusty. If worst comes to worst, we can try them, but they are nearly three years old from what I can read of the labels.”
He grimaced. “Three-year-old pears don’t sound appetizing.”
“I wasn’t suggesting they were, but I’ve known people to eat home-canned food that was older than this.”
“Really? How can you tell if it’s bad?”
“If the seal is intact, if the food looks good and smells okay, it should be okay...” Her voice trailed off.
He folded his arms over his chest. “You go first.”
She rolled her eyes and he smiled. He could have been trapped with a much less enjoyable companion. “Come on, Hannah. We’re going shopping for a bed. I think I saw one earlier that might go with our decor.”
“What’s decor?” Hannah asked, jumping off her chair.
He gestured toward his clothing. “It means style.”
“What is your style?” Mary asked with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.
“Cobwebs and dust. What’s yours?” He leaned toward her. “How did you get your face clean?”
She blushed and looked down. “There is plenty of water dripping in on the other side. You could wash up if you’d like.”
“Good idea. Come on, Hannah. Let’s get some of this decor off of us.”
“Ja, it’s yucky.”
Mary stopped Hannah. She lifted the girl’s apron off over her head, tore it in two and handed him the pieces. “Use this to wash and dry with. It’s the cleanest thing you’ll find down here.”
“Danki.” As he took it from her, his fingers brushed against hers, sending a tiny thrill across his skin. She immediately thrust her hands in the pockets of her dress and her blush deepened.
She was a pretty woman. He liked the way wisps of her blond hair had come loose from beneath her kapp and curled around her face. He liked her smile, too. Would he have noticed her if they hadn’t been forced together? In truth, he wouldn’t have looked twice if he saw her with a child. He realized he was staring and turned away. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable.
After washing Hannah’s face and his own, Joshua returned to find Mary had put the candle stubs he’d seen in a small jar. She was melting them over the flame of the candle on the tub. Hannah had found a worn-out broom with a broken handle. She began using it to sweep the floor of her house. “We didn’t find a stove, Mamm.”
Joshua gestured toward Mary’s jar. “Are you going to make me eat wax for supper because I don’t want your ancient pears?”
Using a piece of broken glass, she cut the ribbons off her kapp. “Nee, I’m making more candles.”
“Smart thinking.” The lantern had been flickering. It would go out soon and he hadn’t found more kerosene.
She flashed him a shy smile before looking down. “I have my moments.”
He noticed she had opened one of the jars of fruit. “Did you eat some of that?”
She nodded. “If I don’t get sick, it should be fine for the two of you.”
“I’m not sure that was smart thinking. Were they good?”
“As sweet as the day they were canned, but kind of mushy. Would you like some?”
“I’ll pass. I might have to take care of you if you get sick. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
She glanced up. “I feel fine. Did you find a bed for Hannah?”
He sat down in the chair. “Just some rusty box springs and a pile of burlap sacks. I’ll bring them over later. It’s not much, but it will have to do. I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything for you.”
“The rocker will suit me fine.” She dipped her ribbon in the melted wax and pulled it out. Letting it harden, she waited a little while and then dipped it again. Each time she pulled it out, the candle grew fatter. Hannah came over and Mary allowed her to start her own candle.
It was pleasant watching them work by lantern light. Mary was patient with her daughter, teaching her by showing her what to do and praising her when she did well. Outside, the sound of rain faded away. The storm was over. Would someone find them soon?