The Storekeeper's Daughter (10 page)

Naomi spent a fretful night. It didn’t seem right trying to sleep when her baby brother wasn’t in his crib across the room.

She awoke with a headache and wished she could stay in bed—wished, in fact, she could stay there forever and never have to deal with anything again. But she couldn’t. Nancy was pounding on the door, telling her it was time to start breakfast. She rolled over and punched the pillow around her head.

“Naomi, are you awake?” Nancy knocked again. “Naomi?”

“I’m comin’. Just give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

“Jah, okay. I’ll go downstairs and get things started.”

“Danki.”

Naomi sat up and glanced at the baby’s crib. It was empty. Same as it had been last night when she’d crawled into bed. “What have I done?” she moaned. “Life will never be the same without Zach.”

Ten minutes later, Naomi entered the kitchen. Nancy was mixing pancake batter, and Mary Ann was setting the table. Zach was gone. His empty playpen was a constant reminder.

“I take it Papa and the brothers are still outside chorin’?” Naomi asked, grabbing a jug of milk from the refrigerator and forcing her mind off her missing brother.

“As far as I know,” Nancy answered. “Haven’t seen any of ’em this morning.”

Naomi glanced at Mary Ann. She’d finished setting the table and stood beside Zach’s empty high chair, staring at it as though he were sitting right there.

“You won’t bring the boppli home by starin’ at his chair.” Naomi’s voice sounded harsh, even to her own ears, but she seemed powerless to stop the cutting words.

Mary Ann hung her head. “It’s my fault Zach’s gone, and I’m afraid God’s gonna punish me for it.”

“It ain’t your fault,” Nancy hollered from across the room.

“That’s right; it’s not,” Naomi agreed. “What would make you say such a thing, Mary Ann?”

The little girl kept her eyes downcast as she slid her bare toes back and forth across the linoleum. “If I hadn’t dropped the jar of peaches and screamed ’cause I cut my hand, you might not have rushed into the house without Zach.” She looked at Naomi with tears in her eyes. “And if you’d gone outside sooner, Zach might not have been kidnapped.”

Before Naomi could voice her thoughts on the matter, Mary Ann spoke again. “I’m afraid, Naomi. Are you gonna let some Englisher take me, too?”

Naomi’s mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?”

Mary Ann closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “If you think I did a bad thing, you might want me to go away, same as Zach.”

Her little sister’s comment was nearly Naomi’s undoing. She took hold of Mary Ann’s arm, flopped into a chair, and lifted the child onto her lap. Rocking back and forth, Naomi let her tears flow. “It wasn’t your fault, Mary Ann. I’m the one to blame, and I’ll never let anyone take you away.”

After a sleepless night, Abraham had gone to the barn before daylight, thinking he might get the animals fed and do a few other chores. How could he go to bed and rest when his youngest son was in the hands of a stranger? What did the Englisher want with Zach? Did he plan to hurt him? It happened to other children who were kidnapped; he’d read terrible things in the newspaper about little ones who’d been taken from their families and were abused by the abductor. Many had been found dead, with their little bodies mutilated beyond recognition.

Abraham trembled as he sank to his knees in front of a bale of hay. He bent into the pain that threatened to squeeze the life out of him. “Father in heaven, please keep my boy safe. Even if Zach never comes home, I pray You’ll protect him from harm.”

Tears coursed down Abraham’s cheeks, and he swiped at them with the back of his hand. Yesterday afternoon he had hoped to start over with his family by having a surprise campout in the backyard. A few days ago, while praying and reflecting on God’s Word, he’d come to the point of accepting Sarah’s death and thought he could do better by his children. That had all changed now. He couldn’t deal with the second tragedy that had befallen them. God could have prevented it from happening, same as He could have saved Sarah.

“This is your fault, Naomi,” he wailed. “You were supposed to be watching the boy. I trusted you to care for my kinner, and look what happened.” He sniffed deeply and nearly choked on his saliva. Naomi was in the house and couldn’t hear his tirade, but he didn’t care. His heart was full of bitterness, and she was the cause. “I’ll bet you were thinking about Caleb Hoffmeir or that English girl, Virginia Meyers, instead of watchin’ out for Zach. You probably don’t care a mite for this family—thinkin’ about yourself, that’s all.”

As the angry words spewed out of his mouth, Abraham grew even more tense. He clenched his teeth and fought for control. Deep in his soul, he knew Naomi did care for the family, yet he couldn’t find it in his heart to forgive her carelessness. If Zach wasn’t returned, Abraham didn’t know if he could ever look at his oldest daughter again without feeling she was to blame for his misery.

“Sorry to disturb you, Papa, but I was wonderin’ if you’re about ready for breakfast? The bell rang a few minutes ago.”

Abraham jerked upright at the sound of Jake’s voice. “You go ahead, Son. I ain’t hungry.”

Jake moved closer to the spot where Abraham knelt. “You okay? Ya haven’t hurt your back again, have you?”

Abraham remembered the last time his back had gone into spasm, and he’d been forced to crawl from the barn to the house. That had been painful, but nothing compared to the way he felt right now.

He made a fist and touched his chest. “Hurtin’ here but no place else.”

Jake’s brown eyes revealed obvious concern. “I’ll leave you to your prayin’ then. That’s all we can do, isn’t it, Papa? Pray and ask God to bring Zach home.”

Abraham nodded. “And to keep our little boy safe.”

“Oh, look, Jim. There’s a quilt shop across the street. Let’s stop.” Linda, still in the backseat with Jimmy, leaned forward and tapped Jim on the shoulder.

“I thought we’d go straight to Mom and Dad’s. Besides, it’s Sunday, and most of the shops are closed,” Jim said as he kept driving. “You and Mom can go shopping tomorrow.”

“I really want to stop now. It would feel good to stretch my legs, and I’d like your opinion on which quilt to get.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have Mom’s opinion? She knows more about that kind of thing than I do.”

“She wouldn’t know how much money you’re willing to let me spend.”

Linda had a point. Mom would probably tell his wife to get whatever she wanted—that money was no object. It would be easy for her to say; it wasn’t her money she’d be spending. Still, he thought it would be better if the women went shopping while he and Dad stayed home and visited over a cup of coffee or watched TV. They could keep an eye on the baby, too. Surely Linda didn’t want to shop for a quilt while holding a fidgety child.

“Please, Jim,” she pleaded. “Won’t you turn around and head back to Fannie’s Quilt Shop so I can see what they have in the window?”

“What about Jimmy?”

“What about him?”

“Wouldn’t you rather shop tomorrow, without him?”

“No. I don’t want to leave him alone.”

“He wouldn’t be alone. He’ll be with me and Dad while you and Mom come to town.”

They had entered the town of Berlin, and Jim had to stop for an Amish buggy that had pulled away from the curb. Seeing the buggy made Jim think of the Amish farm where he’d gone for root beer. Root beer he’d never gotten. He’d left with a child, instead.

“Jim, are you going to go back to that quilt shop or not?”

Linda’s pleading voice pulled his thoughts aside, and he was grateful. No point dwelling on the past. Especially one he wasn’t free to talk about.

“Okay, okay. Just let me look for a good place to turn around.”

“It looks like there are a lot of tourists, doesn’t it? Even for a Sunday,” she remarked.

“Yeah, plenty of people like us who want to find something made by the Amish to take home.” Linda would not only be taking an Amish quilt home after this trip, but an Amish baby, as well. She just didn’t know it.

“I’ll meet you at the Subway place on West Main Street,” Caleb called to his cousin.

“Okay, but don’t be late. Cleon, my driver, will be pickin’ us up later this afternoon, and then we’ll drive over to Dover so you can catch the bus.”

Caleb waved at Henry and strolled up the sidewalk. He’d decided to take a walk before they ate and check out some of the shops in the area. He would have to sit for a long time on the bus, so stretching his legs beforehand would be good.

Caleb had arrived at Henry’s last night, and they’d spent the evening getting caught up on one another’s lives. Since today was an off-Sunday and there’d be no church, first thing this morning, they’d gone to the buggy shop to look at the antique parts Henry had recently acquired. Caleb chose to buy a set of wheels, some spokes and hubs, a couple of shaft bars, and one old seat that was sturdy but would need to be reupholstered. He’d have them shipped to his place; and if he decided to stay in Holmes County a couple more days, the parts would probably be waiting for him when he got home.

However, Henry said he had a lot of work to do this week, and Caleb was eager to get home, so he decided to catch the evening bus back to Pennsylvania. He should arrive in Lancaster early Monday morning.

As Caleb neared a store called “Fannie’s Quilt Shop,” he saw a young couple with a baby looking in the window.

He squinted against the glaring sun.
That little guy looks kind of like Zach Fisher. He’s dressed in English clothes, but his hair is cut like an Amish baby’s would be. Don’t rightly see how it could be, though. Zach’s at home with his family, whereas this baby has English parents.

“Yes, honey, I promise to bring you back sometime tomorrow so you can buy a quilt,” he overheard the man say to the woman.

Caleb stared at the baby a few more minutes, then finally moved on.
I’d better find myself somethin’ cold to drink, ’cause this hot, humid weather must be gettin’ to me. Naomi’s baby brother dressed in English clothes, bein’ held by English folks outside a shop in Ohio? No, it couldn’t be. I’m just missing Naomi, that’s all.

Naomi stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. It was hard to think about working at the store today, but she knew it would be expected of her. They had to make a living, and that wouldn’t happen if they all stayed home worrying about Zach and blaming themselves for his disappearance. Of course, Naomi knew she was the only one to blame. She’d let everyone down—Mama most of all, since she hadn’t kept her promise to care for the family. Naomi had failed miserably, and now she feared nothing would ever be the same.

As she placed the clean dishes into the drainer, Naomi’s thoughts continued to spiral. Where was Zach now? Was he safe and being cared for, or had he been abandoned somewhere? Worse yet, could her baby brother have been murdered?

She shuddered.
Oh, Lord, give me a sense of peace about this. Some word—anything—that will let me know Zach is okay.

The roar of a car’s engine drove Naomi’s thoughts to the back of her mind. She dried her hands on a towel and went to see who had driven into their yard.

Outside, Naomi spotted a police car, and Papa came running from the barn. Did the police have information about Zach? If so, she hoped it was good news.

Naomi stepped off the porch and hurried toward the car. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fisher,” she heard one of the men say. “I’d like to say we’re hot on the suspect’s trail, but the truth is, there is no trail. We don’t have a single lead on your son.”

“Nothing a’tall?” Papa asked with a catch in his voice.

The policeman shook his head. “We spoke with all your neighbors, and no one saw anything out of the ordinary on Saturday. Some said they’d seen cars going in and out of your place, but nobody noticed an English man with a baby.”

Papa’s forehead wrinkled, and he stared down at his boots. “Guess it’s hopeless then.”

“It’s not hopeless, Mr. Fisher. The local newspaper and TV station have run a story on the kidnapping, so we’re hoping someone will come forward with helpful information.”

“Without any pictures of your son or a good description of the man and his vehicle, it’s going to be difficult to solve this case,” the other police officer said.

Naomi felt as if her heart had plunged clear to her toes. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm her fears. So it
was
hopeless. Zach was gone for good. The days ahead looked bleak and frightening. Without Zach, nothing would ever be the same.

Papa nudged Naomi’s arm. “Now that you’ve had more time to think on it, can you remember anything else?”

She shook her head and blinked against the tears that sprang to her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Was the man old or young?” the first officer asked.

“I told you Saturday night, he wasn’t old. I’m sure of that much.”

“But you have no idea if he was in his twenties, thirties, or forties?”

“And what color was the man’s hair?” the other policeman asked.

Naomi wanted to scream. She’d been through these questions the other night and told them all she knew. Why did they keep on asking?

“Answer the man, Naomi,” Papa instructed.

She swallowed hard. “I – I’m not sure. I think it was brown, but it could have been black. The man was younger than Papa, but to tell ya the truth, I didn’t pay close attention to much of anything. I’d had a busy morning, and—”

“That’s just an excuse. You should’ve been payin’ more attention,”

Papa barked. “You wouldn’t have left Zach on the picnic table if you had been.”

Will I ever hear the end of this? Does he have to keep reminding me of what I’ve done?

“I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.” Naomi whirled around and dashed for the house.

Caleb entered his house, ever so glad to be home. Leaving Marvin and Andy in charge of the buggy shop was okay for a day or two, but much longer and things might not go well. He knew Andy’s hand was still bandaged after getting that nail stuck in his thumb, so he couldn’t do much to help if they got busy. Marvin sure wasn’t able to do all the work by himself.

When Caleb first arrived in Lancaster, he’d called Ken Peterson for a ride home; and from the smell that greeted him as he entered the kitchen, Caleb figured he’d arrived in time for breakfast.

“I’m home,” he called.

Mom, who stood in front of the stove with her back to him, whirled around. “Caleb! We didn’t expect you for another couple of days.”

He grinned and hung his straw hat on a wall peg. “Couldn’t stay away from my mom’s great cookin’.”

She smiled. “You would say something like that.”

“Caleb always did like to eat,” Levi, his eleven-year-old brother, put in from his place at the table.

Caleb crossed the room and ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “What would you know about it, huh?”

Levi chuckled and reached for his glass of milk.

Caleb glanced around. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Your daed’s in the fields with John and David,” Mom replied. “Andy and Marvin went out to the buggy shop a few minutes ago.”

“They’ve had breakfast already?”

“Jah.”

“And the sisters? Where are they?”

“Irma and Lettie are down in the cellar gettin’ canning jars. We’ve got a bunch of peas to put up later today.”

“Thought the peas were done,” Caleb said, taking a seat across from Levi.

“This is the last picking.”

“So am I too late for breakfast?”

“Not a’tall. Haven’t eaten myself yet, and as you can see, Levi’s waitin’ for seconds.”

Levi patted his stomach. “I’m a growin’ boy.”

Caleb laughed. “How’s things around here? Everything okay in the buggy shop?”

Mom set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Caleb and frowned. “Things are okay at our place, but it’s really bad over at the Fishers’ right now.”

“How so?”

“Baby Zach’s missing.”

“What do you mean, Mom? How can the little guy be missin’?”

“Seems he was kidnapped right out of their yard early Saturday afternoon. Some English man came askin’ for root beer, and they’re sure he’s the one who took him.”

Caleb’s thoughts flashed to the quilt shop outside of Berlin, Ohio. He’d seen an English couple there with a baby who looked like Zach. Was it possible? Could it be? If there was even a chance...

Caleb pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “I’ve gotta go, Mom.”

“What about breakfast?”

“I can eat something later.”

“But where are ya off to?”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I’ll explain everything then.” He grabbed his hat and raced out the door before his mother could say another word.

Abraham didn’t know how he was going to go about business as usual today, but somehow he must. Staying home and moping around or railing at God for His unfairness wouldn’t bring in any money. It wouldn’t bring Zach home, either.

He lit the gas lanterns near the front of the store, placed the OPEN sign in the window, and went to the back room to fetch the box of children’s books that needed to be set out. Naomi could tend to any customers coming in, and he would enlist the help of his two youngest daughters with the books. He’d left Samuel home today to work in the fields with the older boys.

As soon as he and the girls entered the storage room, Abraham spotted Zach’s empty playpen. A sting of pain sliced through his body, and he winced, feeling like he’d been stabbed with a pitchfork.
Zach. Zach. Oh, my sweet little boy, how my soul pines for you.

Nancy and Mary Ann must have noticed the place where Zach had taken so many naps, for they both stood like statues, staring at it.

“I miss my little brother.” Mary Ann touched the railing of the playpen and whimpered.

“You think we’ll ever see Zach again, Papa?” Nancy questioned.

Abraham wished he could offer his daughters some comfort or hope that Zach would be returned. He couldn’t. Not when he knew, short of a miracle, they would never see their precious boppli again.

“Papa, will Zach come home?”

Abraham clenched his teeth to keep from snapping at Nancy. Since Saturday night, he’d said too many unkind words and knew his attitude was wrong.

“I’ll carry this box of books into the next room for you,” he mumbled, “and while you two are settin’ them on the shelf, I’ll come back here and do some rearranging.”

Nancy and Mary Ann looked at each other, then back at him.
Are they expecting me to say more? Maybe offer some reassurance that Zach will be coming home?

He bent down and lifted the cardboard box into his arms. “Go on now.”

The girls followed him to the other room, and as soon as they started on the books, he returned to the storage area and shut the door.

Abraham grabbed the playpen and folded it up.
No use leavin’ this out as a reminder of what can’t be undone.
With the toe of his boot, he kicked one of the wooden blocks that had fallen out of the playpen along with several other toys. “Besides, it’s only in the way.”

He shoved the playpen behind some containers against the wall, then grabbed an empty box and tossed all of Zach’s toys inside. As he was finishing that chore, someone knocked.

“Come in.”

The door squeaked open, and his friend Jacob Weaver entered the storage room. “The girls said I’d find you in here. What are ya up to?”

“Cleanin’. Organizin’. Tryin’ to forget.” Abraham flopped onto the cot where he sometimes took a nap, as a feeling of despair washed over him like a drenching rain.

Jacob’s hazel-colored eyes showed compassion. He took a seat beside Abraham, and in quiet solitude they sat there.

After several minutes, Jacob cleared his throat. “ ‘O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.’ Psalm eighty-four, verse twelve.”

Abraham grunted. “Jah, well, the Bible also says, ‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.’” He clasped his hands tightly together. “He’s taken my youngest son, Jacob, and I don’t think Zach’s ever comin’ back.”

“It wasn’t God who took your boy. It was an English man who was probably desperate and didn’t know right from wrong.”

“Humph!
Everyone knows right from wrong.”

“Maybe here,” Jacob said as he touched his head, “but not necessarily here.” He laid his hand against his chest.

Abraham swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I’m thinkin’ you oughta be our next bishop. You always seem to know what to say.”

Jacob gave a small laugh. “We have a bishop, remember?”

“Andrew Swartley won’t be around forever. He’s in his eighties now and gettin’ pretty forgetful at times.”

“Don’t matter how forgetful the man is; as long as he’s alive, he’ll be our bishop.”

Abraham knew a bishop was chosen by lot and remained the head leader until his death. Still, no one lived forever, and when Andrew Swartley passed on, there would be a need for a new bishop.

“Never know what the future holds,” Abraham said, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

“That’s true enough.”

“If I had known my boy was gonna be kidnapped, I sure would have done things differently.”

“No one can foresee the future, only God,” Jacob said. “And He can take something bad like Zach’s disappearance and turn it into something good.”

Abraham groaned. “The only good that’ll ever come outta this would be if Zach is returned to us.”

Naomi sat on the wooden stool behind the counter near the front of the store, trying to insert figures from receipts into the ledger. It was hard to concentrate. Hard to think about anything other than Zach. Over the last couple of days, a sense of sadness had pervaded every step she took, every thought that popped into her head. Her heart felt as dark as the night sky.

She was glad when Jacob Weaver showed up, asking to see her dad. He and Papa had been close friends for a good many years, and if anyone could help Papa through his grief, it would be Jacob.
Sure wish someone could help me with mine.

She glanced at the clock on the wall across the room. Jacob had been in the storage room with Papa for half an hour already.
Wonder what they could be talking about? Jacob must be takin’ a break from his painting business. I’m sure he knows Papa is hurting real bad right now.

Mary Ann and Nancy had finished unloading the books from the box Papa had brought out, and they’d wanted to ask him what they should do next. Naomi caught them before they knocked on the door, telling the girls they could go outside for a while, as long as they stayed on the front porch. From her spot behind the counter, she could see the entire porch through the window, so if anyone bothered her sisters, she would know about it.

The front door suddenly swung open, and Caleb rushed in.

“Naomi, I came as soon as I heard the news.”

She fought against the urge to dash around the counter and throw herself into Caleb’s arms. His gentle expression gave evidence of his concern, and she felt sure he wouldn’t judge her the way Papa had done.

Naomi held herself in check and managed a brave smile. “It’s been rough since Zach was kidnapped.”

“I’m awful sorry it happened, but I think I might have some information that could be helpful.” Caleb stepped closer. “I don’t want to give anyone false hope, but I may have seen Zach.”

“What? Where?” Naomi’s mouth fell open, and her heart thumped so hard she feared it might burst.

“Just outside of Berlin, Ohio,” he said. “I went there to look at some buggy parts my cousin was selling.”

“And?”

“On Sunday I went for a walk in town before my driver took me to the bus station in Dover.”

Naomi jumped off the wooden stool and skirted around the counter. “And you saw Zach there? Is that what you’re sayin’, Caleb?”

He gave his earlobe a couple of tugs. “I can’t rightly say it was Zach, but it sure enough looked like him.”

“Was there an English man with him?”

Caleb nodded. “A woman, too. She was holding the baby, but the little guy was wearin’ English clothes, so I told myself it couldn’t be Zach.” He shrugged. “Besides, I thought he was home with you. I had no idea he’d been snatched right off your farm. When I got home this morning, Mom told me what happened.”

“Stay here while I get Papa. He’s in the back room with Jacob Weaver.”