The Storekeeper's Daughter (13 page)

“God knows, Abraham,” Fannie said sincerely. “I’m sure He feels your pain.”

She held up a wicker basket. “I’ve got our food right here. You ready?”

He nodded. “Ready and feelin’ hungrier by the minute.”

For the next half hour, Abraham and Fannie got better acquainted as he told her about his family and the way it had been since Sarah’s death. He was amazed at how understanding and sweet she was, offering words of encouragement and saying she would keep him and his family in her prayers.

Fannie shared a bit about her life, too: how she’d only been able to have two children—a boy, now married, and Abby, who helped at the quilt shop.

Abraham studied Fannie as she sat on the other side of the picnic table smiling at him.
Too bad there aren’t any widows like you in my area,
he mused.
If so, I might change my mind about gettin’ married again.

Naomi glanced out the kitchen window. Half an hour ago, she’d sent Nancy and Mary Ann to the garden to pick strawberries, and they still hadn’t returned. Didn’t they realize she was in a hurry?

She placed two pie pans on the counter and slipped the flattened dough inside each one. After another long day at the store, she didn’t feel like baking, but the girls had been begging for strawberry pie, and the garden was overflowing with ripe berries. “Sure hope Papa gets here soon,” Naomi muttered. He’d been gone two full days, and she had no idea when to expect him. Had he found the English couple with the baby who looked like Zach? If so, had the police been called? How she hoped Papa would return with her little brother. “Everything will be all right if Zach comes home.”

“You talkin’ to yourself again?”

Naomi whirled around. Norman stood inside the kitchen door, his face and arms covered with dust.

“You shouldn’t be sneaking up on me like that.”

He sauntered across the room and opened the refrigerator door. “Wasn’t sneakin’. Just came in to get a glass of lemonade.”

“You’re dirty as a pig,” she scolded. “Should have washed up outside before you came into the house.”

He grunted. “Don’t tell me what to do, Naomi. Just because Papa’s gone don’t mean you can boss everyone around.”

She balled her hands into fists and planted them on her hips. “I’m not.”

Norman set the pitcher of lemonade on the table and went to get a glass from the cupboard. “Jah, you are. Ever since Mama died, you’ve been kinda bossy, and now that Papa’s gone to Ohio, you think you can tell everyone what to do.”

Heat crept up the back of Naomi’s neck, and she struggled to keep her tears at bay. She didn’t understand why her brother was being so mean, but she had to keep control of her emotions, especially in front of her siblings.

“Norman, do this,” he taunted. “Nancy, do that. All you ever do is order folks around.”

“I’m only doing what I was asked to do,” she countered. “Papa said I should look after things, and that means—”

“Ha! Look after things? Were ya lookin’ after Zach when he was snatched off the picnic table last Saturday?”

She winced. The pain of her brother’s words sliced through Naomi like a knife. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but she couldn’t. Norman was right. She hadn’t done a good job of looking out for Zach that day, but she didn’t need to be reminded of her error. Naomi had berated herself aplenty these last few days, but to be told she was negligent by one of her family members was like a slap in the face.

She turned back to the pie shells. What was keeping those girls? Tears slipped from her eyes and landed on the counter with a splash.

“Don’t see how you can expect anyone to do what you say anymore,” Norman went on. “You’d better quit bossin’ and start being more responsible.”

Naomi choked on a sob, pushed the pie pans aside, and rushed out the back door. She stopped long enough to blow her nose and gulp in a deep breath, and then hurried to the garden.

The sound of children’s laughter drifted on the wind, and she halted at the edge of the grass. Nancy and Mary Ann ran back and forth between the rows of strawberries, laughing, hollering, and throwing berries at one another.

Naomi cupped her trembling hands around her mouth and hollered, “Stop that!”

When the girls ignored her and kept on running, she marched into the garden, picked up one of the half-empty plastic containers, and shoved it at Nancy.
“Des is mer gen greitz—
this is annoying to me.”

Mary Ann screeched to a halt and hung her head. “Aw, Naomi, we was only havin’ a little fun.”

“I sent you out here to pick strawberries, not have fun! I’ve got pies to bake, and there aren’t nearly enough berries in this container for even one pie.”

Nancy scrunched her nose. “How come you’re always yellin’ at us?”

“I wouldn’t have to yell if you did as you were told.”

“Norman said we don’t hafta mind you anymore,” Mary Ann said.

Naomi clenched her teeth. “Oh, he did, did he?”

Her little sister nodded soberly.

“You should know better than to listen to Norman. He’s only trying to make trouble.”

Nancy’s lower lip quivered. “Why can’t we ever please you, Sister? Ever since Zach was taken, you’ve been cranky and shootin’ orders all the time.”

Overcome with remorse, Naomi bent down and grabbed both girls in a hug. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry for takin’ my frustrations out on you,” she said tearfully. “It’s just that I’m feeling awful about Zach being kidnapped, and I want to take good care of you girls—see that you do things right and are kept safe.”

Mary Ann buried her face in Naomi’s neck. “It ain’t your fault Zach was taken.”

“That’s right,” Nancy agreed, “and Papa’s gonna bring him back home; you’ll see.”

“I hope so. I truly do.” Naomi sniffed. “Forgive me, girls—for being such a grump?”

“Jah,” they said in unison.

“All right then. Please get busy and fill these containers with berries. I want to get the pies started before we have supper.”

Nancy and Mary Ann grabbed their plastic tubs and started picking right away. Naomi turned and headed back to the house. She hoped Norman had returned to the fields. She was not in the mood to listen to more of his unkind remarks.

She had only taken a few steps when she heard a horse and buggy pull into the yard. It was Caleb.

He waved and stepped down from his buggy. She noticed right away that he held a book in his hands. “This is for you,” he said as he approached her.

She tipped her head. “What for? It’s not my birthday or anything.”

“It’s my way of letting you know I’ve been thinkin’ about you. I wanted to come by yesterday and see how you were doing, but I had so much work in the shop I couldn’t get away.” He handed the book to Naomi. “This is about all the sights out west. I remember once when we were kinner, you said you’d like to see Mount Rainier and what’s left of Mount St. Helens.”

Naomi blinked against threatening tears. “That was kind of you.”

“How are things going? Heard anything from your daed yet?”

She shook her head and moved toward the house. “Would you like a glass of lemonade or something?”

“That’d be nice.”

“Have a seat on the front porch. I’ll take the book inside and be right out with the lemonade.”

Caleb plunked himself down on the top step, and Naomi went into the house. When she entered the kitchen, she was relieved to see that Norman was no longer there. She placed the travelogue on one end of the counter and went to the refrigerator. A few minutes later, she returned to the porch with two glasses of lemonade and handed one to Caleb. “Here you go.”

“Danki.” He smiled when she took a seat beside him. “So ya don’t have any idea when Abraham might be home?”

“Nope. I’m hoping his bein’ gone these three days means he might have discovered something about Zach.”

“I could go to one of the English neighbors and call my cousin in Berlin.”

Naomi sucked in her bottom lip. “I suppose you could, but Papa might not like it if he thought we were checkin’ up on him. Besides, he’s not too keen on makin’ phone calls that aren’t absolutely necessary.”

Caleb shrugged. “Guess he’d call one of your neighbors and ask them to get you a message if there was anything important to tell.”

She sighed and set her glass down on the step. “Jah, which probably means he hasn’t found Zach.”

“If he does find your little brother, maybe he’ll come home and surprise everyone.”

“That would be wonderful—the answer to my prayers.”

Caleb took hold of Naomi’s hand, and the contact of his skin made her flesh tingle. “I know there are some in our district who feel you were negligent by leavin’ Zach on that picnic table.” He gazed into Naomi’s eyes, and she could see the depth of his understanding. “Some, like me, know it was just an accident. Could have happened to any one of us if we’d been distracted.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. “That’s what happened all right. I’d been awful busy that morning, which probably didn’t help things any, but when I heard Mary Ann’s scream, I lost track of what I should be doin’.” She pulled her hand from his and reached up to wipe the tears on her cheeks. “Even so, I can’t quit blamin’ myself for what happened, and the worst of it is, Papa blames me, too.”

Caleb frowned. “Wish there was some way I could get him to let you start goin’ to singings and the like. Maybe then we could begin courtin’.”

Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but a car pulled into the yard, and she and Caleb both stood.

“Looks like Mr. Peterson, the man we often call for rides when we can’t take the horse and buggy,” Naomi said.

The door of the passenger side opened, and Naomi’s father stepped out, holding his suitcase. A chorus of cheers went up from the garden patch as Naomi’s sisters rushed out to greet him. Naomi and Caleb followed.

Naomi’s heart sank when she realized Papa was alone. No precious little brother to hold and welcome home.

“How was your trip?” she asked Papa after he told Mr. Peterson good-bye and shut the car door.

He looked tired, and his face was drawn. “Long. It’s gut to be home.”

“Any news about Zach?” She had to ask, even though it was obvious he’d returned empty-handed.

He shook his head. “Fannie didn’t have much information to give me.”

“Who’s Fannie, Papa?” Nancy asked.

“She’s the woman who owns the quilt shop on the outskirts of Berlin, Ohio.”

“Did she say whether an English couple had come to her store with a baby who looked like Zach?” Caleb questioned.

Papa frowned. “Caleb, what are you doin’ here?”

“I dropped by to see if the family had received any news from you yet.”

Naomi was glad Caleb made no mention of the book he’d brought. That probably wouldn’t set well with her daed.

“I see,” Papa said. “That’s nice of you, but there is no news. None that’s good anyways.”

“So the woman at the quilt shop didn’t know a thing?” Caleb asked.

“The description of the baby she saw seemed to fit Zach. Same as what you said, Caleb.”

“Did she know who the English people were or where they were going?” Naomi asked.

“I just said she didn’t have any real information,” Papa snapped.

She stared down at her bare feet. “Sorry. I thought maybe—”

Papa started moving toward the house. “Where’s the rest of the family?”

“The boys are still out in the fields,” Nancy replied. “Want me to ring the dinner bell so they’ll come up to the house?”

He shook his head. “Naw, let ’em keep workin’ awhile longer. Since I have no good news to share, there’s not much point to callin’ them in ’til suppertime.”

Naomi was surprised at Papa’s attitude. Despite his abruptness with her a few minutes ago, he didn’t seem near as edgy as before he left for Ohio. After making the long trip and not finding Zach, she thought he’d be cranky as all get out.

“Let’s go inside. I’m bushed,” Papa said.

The girls started to follow, but Naomi stopped them before they got to the porch. “What about the berries? Have you got both containers filled?”

“Just about,” Nancy answered.

“Please get it done. I’ve still got those pies to bake.”

“Ah, do we have to?” Mary Ann whined. “I wanna go inside with Papa.”

“Do as your sister says,” he scolded. “We can talk when you’re done pickin’ berries.”

The girls walked away with their shoulders hunched, and Papa stepped onto the porch. He stopped before he got to the door and turned around. “Caleb, would ya like to join us for supper?”

Naomi was even more surprised by her father’s question than she was by his easygoing attitude. What in the world would make Papa invite Caleb to supper? As far as she knew, he didn’t want the buggy maker hanging around.

Caleb shuffled his feet. “That’s a real nice offer, and I’d sure like to, but Mom’s expectin’ me back right away. Maybe some other time.”

Papa lifted his hand. “Just want to say thanks for tellin’ me about those English people you saw in Ohio and also for settin’ things up so I could stay with Henry while I was there.”

“You’re welcome.” Caleb turned to Naomi and gave her a quick wink. She was glad Papa’s back was to them. He wouldn’t have liked Caleb flirting with her, even if he were in a better mood than she’d seen him in some time.

“Thanks for the book,” she whispered to Caleb.

He smiled, waved, and headed for his buggy.

Naomi followed her father into the house. Things might be looking up. Leastways, she felt as if they were somewhat better now that Papa was back home. She didn’t know why he seemed less agitated than before, but she might as well enjoy the change for as long as it lasted. Come tomorrow, like as not, they might all sink into depression again.

Naomi climbed the stairs to her bedroom, feeling the burden of weariness with each step she took. It was nearly midnight, and as usual, she was the last one to bed.

The past two weeks had gone by quickly as the garden brought forth an abundance of produce that needed to be either canned or frozen. Each evening after they returned from the store and every Saturday, Naomi and her sisters tended the garden. Samuel had been put to work helping with the picking, but he flatly refused to do anything in the kitchen. “Canning is women’s work,” he’d boldly announced.

Naomi sighed deeply as she entered her room. She was still having trouble getting the children to mind, even the youngest like Samuel and Mary Ann. Ever since Zach’s disappearance, they had been hard to deal with.

Maybe it’s me who’s hard to deal with,
she considered.
Maybe I expect too much. I’m not their mother, after all. If I were, Zach would have been better cared for.

Naomi glanced at her little brother’s empty crib. It was a constant reminder of her loss and the remorse she felt for being so incompetent. At Papa’s insistence, the high chair and playpen had been dismantled. Yet Naomi couldn’t seem to part with the crib in her room. If she kept it there, it would remind her to pray for Zach. And if God took pity on them and returned her baby brother, his bed would be ready and waiting.

Naomi removed her kapp and placed it on the dresser. She pulled the pins out of her bun, and soft brown waves cascaded down her back and around her shoulders. She picked up the hairbrush and sank to the bed as a vision of her mother came to mind.

“Always brush your hair one hundred strokes every night, and it will stay healthy and shiny for years to come,” Mama often said. Even when Naomi was so weary she could barely find the strength to lift her arms, she had followed her mother’s suggestion. It made her feel closer to Mama, thinking about how she used to watch the dear woman brush her own silky tresses until they shone like a new penny.

Tears welled up in Naomi’s eyes and clouded her vision. “Oh, Mama, I miss you so much.”

Plink.

Naomi tipped her head and listened. What was that strange noise? It appeared as if something had hit her bedroom window.

Plink. Plink.
There it was again. It sounded like pebbles being thrown against the glass.

She hurried to the window and lifted the dark shade. A man stood in the yard below her room. When he stepped out of the shadows, she realized it was Caleb.

He waved at her, and Naomi’s breath caught in her throat.
What’s he doing here? Doesn’t Caleb know Papa could hear the noise and go outside to investigate?
Of course, her father had been the first to go to bed that night, saying he was tired and his back hurt. More than likely, he was sound asleep, and since Naomi had been the last person to head for bed, she was probably the only one still awake.

She tiptoed out of her room and down the stairs, listening for any sounds coming from the other bedrooms. There was nothing but quiet and the subtle creaking of the stairs as she slowly descended them.

With her heart pounding, Naomi slipped out the back door and into the night. Caleb stood beside a shrub, still gazing upward.

“What are you doing here?”

He whirled around. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Were you throwin’ pebbles at my window?”

He nodded. “Came to see you, and when I saw the light, I figured that was the best way to get your attention.”

She stifled a yawn. “Jah, and it could have caught Papa’s attention, too. Caleb Hoffmeir, what were you thinking?”

He took hold of her hand and led her across the yard. “I was thinkin’ about you and how I wished I’d accepted your daed’s invitation to supper a couple weeks ago.”

They stood under the old maple tree now, and Caleb nodded at the swing hanging from its branches. “Have a seat, and I’ll give you a few pushes.”

She glanced around, half expecting to see Papa or one of the brothers come charging out of the house, but all was quiet.

Naomi sat on the wooden seat and grasped the rope handles. This was crazy, her sitting here in the middle of the night, allowing Caleb to push her on the swing as though they were a courting couple.

“I’ve waited so long for this chance to be alone with you,” Caleb murmured against her ear.

Naomi filled her lungs with fresh air and tried not to shiver.

“You’re tremblin’,” Caleb whispered. “Are ya cold? Want me to get a buggy robe out of my rig?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just a little nervous is all.”

“Afraid your daed might catch us?”

“Jah.”

“He’s been much friendlier to me lately, so maybe he wouldn’t mind if he did find us together.”

“Something must have happened in Ohio. When Papa returned, he seemed softer,” Naomi said. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgiven me for leavin’ Zach on that picnic table, but he’s not been quite so harsh when he speaks to me, either.”

“Have you tried talking to him about things? Explain the way you feel and all?”

“No. I doubt it would do much good. Papa’s always been pretty closemouthed about his feelings, and this thing with Zach has put a barrier between us that might never come down.” She released a heavy sigh. “Truth is, it’s affected the whole family. None of the kinner acts the same toward me anymore.”

“Sorry to hear that, Naomi. Wish there was somethin’ I could do to make your life more pleasant.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much anyone can do. What we need is a miracle—to have Zach come home.”

Caleb continued to push the swing back and forth. The musical rhythm of singing crickets filled the night air, and for a few moments, Naomi felt a sense of peace, as though it had permeated the air she breathed.

“Naomi, will you continue to see me like this—after it’s dark and everyone’s asleep?” Caleb asked.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. How she wanted to say yes, but what would be the point in leading Caleb on? If they began to secretly court, soon he’d be talking of marriage, and she knew that was impossible. Papa would never give his consent. She had a responsibility to the family, a promise to Mama that must be fulfilled. Naomi had already messed up by allowing her busyness to cloud her thinking. She sure couldn’t allow thoughts of love and romance to lead her astray.

“Naomi?”

She jerked her head. “Jah?”

“What have you got to say about me comin’ by like this again?”

Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but her words were cut off.

“Net
—never!”

Naomi swiveled around. There stood Papa, his arms crossed and his face a mask of anger. He’d looked at her the same way the day Zach was kidnapped.

Papa turned to face Caleb. “I give you a foot, and you take three yards! What’s the meaning of all this huggin’ and kissin’ going on behind my back?”

“Papa, we weren’t. Caleb just came by so we could talk.”

“Humph!
I know all about the thoughts on a young man’s mind, and the buggy maker didn’t come here in the middle of the night to talk!”

“That’s not true, Abraham. I only wanted to speak with Naomi about her and me courtin’.”

Papa smacked his hands together, and Naomi jumped right off the swing. “I thought I made myself clear on that subject awhile back. Naomi’s not courtin’ you or anyone else. She’s needed here. Plain and simple.” He pointed at the house while he glared at Naomi. “Get on to your room. We’ll discuss this more in the morning.”

He turned to face Caleb. “And you’d better get back in your buggy and head for home!”

A sob caught in Naomi’s throat, but she did as her father commanded. Was there never to be any peace in this family? Would she ever be free from her guilt or experience the joys others her age felt when they were courted by some special fellow?

“Have you got the baby’s car seat? I don’t want to leave it in the car, where someone might steal it,” Linda called as Jim was about to close the garage door.

He clenched his teeth. The whole time they’d been in Ohio visiting his folks, Linda had been overprotective of Jimmy, barely allowing Mom and Dad to hold the baby. On their trip home, she’d insisted on sitting in the backseat with him. Now she was acting paranoid over the boy’s car seat.
What next?

“Linda, it’s not likely someone’s going to break into our garage, get into the locked car, and steal a kid’s car seat, for pity’s sake.”

She stood at the door leading to the house and frowned. It was that “I want my way, and I’ll cry if I don’t get it” kind of scowl she had learned so well.

They had been driving all day, it was almost nine o’clock, and Jim was too tired to argue. “Fine. Whatever.”

Jim opened the back door of the van and unhooked the car seat. He lifted it out, set it on the concrete floor, and went around to open the hatch in order to get their luggage. In the process, he spotted a piece of the baby quilt sticking out of his toolbox. He glanced at the house. Linda had already gone inside with Jimmy.

“Whew! I’ve gotta ditch this thing.” He opened the toolbox, withdrew the quilt, and headed into the room adjoining the garage, where he kept some of his painting supplies.

“Don’t know why I didn’t throw this silly quilt out when we were in Pennsylvania.” Yet even now, Jim had no inclination to permanently dispose of the small blanket. It was weird, the way he felt when he looked at the little quilt. Jim knew if he threw it away, he’d be getting rid of the last shred of evidence to link him with the kidnapping of an Amish baby. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to throw the colorful blanket away.

Maybe later,
he decided.
After Jimmy’s older and I feel more like he actually belongs to Linda and me.

Jim grabbed the canvas bag where he kept his paint rags and stuffed the quilt deep inside. Linda never went into his shop, so there was no danger of her discovering the quilt there.

A short time later, he was inside the house. He’d brought in their luggage, as well as the car seat. “Where do you want this thing?” he called to Linda, who had gone into the living room with the baby.

“How about the hall closet?”

“Sure, okay.”

When Jim stepped into the room, he saw Linda sitting on the floor in front of the couch, and Jimmy stood by the coffee table, holding onto the edge. The child pivoted toward Linda, let go, and took two steps forward.

“He’s walking!” Linda shouted. “Jim, our little boy took his first steps!”

Jim smiled at his wife’s exuberance. She was going to make a great mother, and he’d done a good thing by providing her with the chance.

I
s
ure wish there were some way I could notify the baby’s family that he’s safe and in good hands. If my child disappeared, I’d be worried and wondering if he was okay.
That was another part of this whole thing that bothered Jim. How was the boy’s family taking his disappearance? Jim had made an impulsive decision when he’d grabbed Jimmy off that picnic table. At the time, he hadn’t felt much remorse. Truth was, when the adoption fell through, taking the baby seemed like an answer to his problem. He also convinced himself that he’d done the Amish family a favor. There were eight kids, the young woman had said.
That’s too many for anyone to raise, let alone a man with no wife.

“He’s doing it again!” Linda’s excited voice drove Jim’s thoughts to the back of his mind.

He smiled as the baby took two more steps, flopped onto the floor, and giggled.

Jim leaned over and helped Jimmy to his feet. “There you go, little guy. Let’s see if you can take a couple more steps before we call it a night.” He held the boy’s chubby hands and walked him a few feet from where Linda sat. “Trot on over to your mommy. Come on, I know you can do it.”

He let go, and the baby toddled toward Linda’s extended arms. She grabbed him in a hug. “Good job, Jimmy! That’s my big boy.

“He’s certainly adjusted well, don’t you think?” she said, looking up at Jim. “It’s as though he’s always been ours.”

He nodded and took a seat on the couch.

“When did you say the papers should arrive?”

“What papers?”

“His birth certificate and the final adoption papers.”

“I told you before, they’re being sent to my paint shop, where I plan to put them in our safe.”

“I trust you to take care of everything, just like you always have,” she said sweetly.

“I do my best.” Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
Thanks for the reminder, Linda. I’d better see about getting some phony papers drawn up—and soon.

“I think I’m going to take this little fellow to his new room. It’s been another long day of travel, and he’s probably ready for bed.” Linda yawned. “For that matter, I’m ready to call it a night, too.”

“I’ll put the suitcases in our rooms, and then I’m gonna give my foreman a call and see what he’s got lined up for tomorrow.”

“Oh, Jim, I hope you’re not planning to go back to work right away.”

“I’ve got to, Linda. My business won’t run itself.”

“But I thought you’d want to rest a few days and spend some quality time with me and Jimmy.”

“We’ll do something fun over the weekend. I don’t have the luxury of taking any more time off to rest.”

She sighed. “All you ever do is work. Sometimes I think you care more about your painting business than you do me.”

His face heated. “What do you mean? I just spent three weeks with you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“And I made sure you got the Amish quilt you’ve always wanted. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Of course it does, but
things
don’t make up for time spent with those you love.” Linda kissed the top of Jimmy’s head. “I can’t believe how much love I feel for this little guy already.”

Jim stood and went to her side. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, Linda.” He bent to kiss her cheek.
Enough to steal an Amish baby so you could be a mother.

“I know, and I love you, too. Guess I’m just tired and not quite ready to let go of our vacation.”

“I understand.” He took hold of the baby’s chubby hand. “Let’s get Jimmy settled in, then we can take a dip in the hot tub and head for our room.”