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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

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“Yeah, we even drove out on the road a piece,” Norman added.

Abraham sat there several seconds, feeling as though he were in a daze. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream—a horrible nightmare. Soon he’d wake up and find everything as it had been that morning.

He shook his head as though it might help him think straight. “That man took our boppli, didn’t he?”

No one said anything, but everyone nodded.

Abraham stood on trembling legs. “Matthew, you’d better go to our English neighbors and ask them to phone the police.”

CHAPTER 11

As Jim pulled into the hotel parking lot, his head swirled with confusion. He’d been told a few hours ago that the son they planned to adopt was no longer available—the mother had changed her mind. Then, in a moment of desperation, he’d stolen an Amish baby right off the picnic table where his older sister had left him sitting. Since she hadn’t returned right away, it had been so easy. It almost seemed as if she had no intention of returning. This only confirmed in Jim’s mind that his going there had been predestined. He and Linda were meant to have the boy, and he would be better off living with them than he would be growing up Amish. The young woman had told Jim her mother died and there were eight children in the family. As far as Jim was concerned, that was too many for one man to raise alone.

He climbed out of the van and went around back to retrieve his new son. “Your mommy and I can give you so much,” he said as he unbuckled the boy’s seat belt and started to take him out of the car seat. The Amish baby quilt was tucked around the child’s legs, and Jim removed it. “Can’t leave this bit of evidence for Linda to see. She’d ask a ton of questions for sure.”

For some reason, when Jim had dumped the boy’s cloth diaper into the garbage at Wal-Mart, he couldn’t throw the quilt out. He’d been tempted to, but it didn’t seem right to pitch the child’s only link with his past life.

I’ll hide the quilt for now and decide what to do with it later.
Jim set the baby back in the car seat, grabbed the blanket, and stuffed it inside his toolbox behind the backseat.

The child started to wail.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Jim lifted the baby into his arms and grabbed the bag of diapers he’d purchased. A few minutes later, he inserted his key card into their hotel room door and let himself in.
I wonder if Linda’s awake and feeling better
.

He was pleased to see that she was up, sitting on the small couch in front of the television. She jumped up when she saw Jim and ran to greet him.

“You’re back—with our baby!” Linda reached for the child, and Jim felt relief when the boy went willingly to her.

Her eyes filled with tears. “He’s even more beautiful than I’d imagined.” She returned to the couch, muted the TV, and hugged the boy. “I take it everything went well?”

Jim sat beside her. “Without a hitch.”

“Did you get all the paperwork? His birth certificate and the adoption papers?”

Jim froze. In his haste to pull off this little charade, he hadn’t given any thought to the legal papers they might need. If the baby didn’t have a birth certificate, how could they enroll him in school?

Linda can homeschool. Yes, she should do that anyway. She’s home all day, and it will be better for the boy to learn from her. Still, when the child grows up and wants to get a driver’s license, passport, or marriage license, he’ll need some proof of his identity.

Jim clenched his teeth. Why hadn’t he thought about all this before?

“Jim, you didn’t answer my question about the papers.”

He gently squeezed Linda’s arm. “Not to worry. It’s all taken care of. The adoption papers and new birth certificate for our boy will be mailed to my paint shop address.”

“Why there and not our home?”

“Because that’s where our safe is kept, Linda.”

“Oh, right.”

I’ll have to see my friend Hank when we get home. He has connections, and I’m sure he’ll be able to get exactly what I need. We can apply for the baby’s Social Security number as soon as I get a phony birth certificate.

“Let’s call him Jimmy,” Linda said, breaking into Jim’s thoughts.

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”

“Are you ready to go shopping now?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“Shopping. You said we came to Lancaster County so I could look for a quilt and tour Amish country. My headache is gone, and I’m ready to do some sightseeing.” Linda kissed the top of the baby’s head. “Besides, he’s sucking on my hand, which probably means he’s hungry. We’ll need to get him some food, Jim.”

Jim groped for the right words. Shopping and sightseeing was not a good idea—at least not here, where the baby might be recognized. What if the boy’s sister had gotten a good look at his van? The police could be out looking for him.

“We can stop somewhere for some food for Jimmy, but I think we should head for Ohio today. Right away, in fact.”

Linda looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head and stood. “I’m anxious to show Mom and Dad our new son.”

“What about the Amish quilt you promised me?”

“You can get one in Holmes County. I’m sure Mom will know the best places to look.”

“You think so?”

“Yep. Now let’s pack our things and get going.”

As Linda stood, she held Jimmy against her chest. “You make it sound critical that we leave. Is there something wrong, Jim? Something you’re not telling me?”

Each lie Jim told seemed to roll right off his tongue, yet each seemed to complicate things that much more. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Of course not, honey. I’m just excited to see my folks and have them meet Jimmy.”

She gazed lovingly at the baby. “He’s so cute, but I wonder why his hair is cut so funny. It almost looks like a bowl was set on his head and someone cut around it.”

Jim gulped. “Uh—it’s—probably the boy’s birth mother couldn’t afford a real haircut.”

“That makes sense.” Linda touched the back of Jimmy’s ear. “Look at the cute little heart-shaped birthmark.”

Jim only glanced at the red blotch. “Uh-huh. Interesting.” He hurried to the closet and retrieved their suitcase.

“My parents will want to see him soon, too. Can we go to Idaho after we get home?” Linda asked.

“Sure, but not right away. I’ve got a business to run, you know. After taking this much time off work, there’ll be lots for me to do.”

Linda nodded. “Okay, but let’s try to make a trip there as soon as we can.”

“Right. I promise we’ll do that.” Jim plunked the suitcase on the end of the bed. “I’ll pack our clothes, and you can get the cosmetic bag ready.”

“What about the baby? Who’s going to hold him if we’re both packing?”

“Why don’t you put him on the bed?”

“But he might fall off.”

Jim’s mind flashed to the moment the baby had been left sitting in the middle of the picnic table. He’d tried to climb down and would have probably fallen if Jim hadn’t been there to catch him. “Put him on the floor then. He can do a little exploring while we get ready to go.”

“I wonder if he can walk. He’s a year old, and many children walk by their first birthday. Did the mother say whether he’s walking yet or not?”

“Uh—no, she didn’t say.”
The boy’s sister mentioned that he’s not walking yet, but I sure can’t tell Linda that.
“If you put him on the floor, we’ll find out if he can walk.”

She did as he suggested, and the boy crawled off to investigate Jim’s slippers, sitting on the floor near the bed. “I guess he either can’t walk or doesn’t want to right now.”

He shrugged. “Guess so.”

Linda gave Jim a lingering kiss. “Thank you for coming all this way so we could adopt our precious child.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. What he’d done was illegal in the eyes of the law, but as far as he was concerned, it had been the right thing. Jim had never seen Linda so happy. She was fairly glowing.

***

Naomi took a seat in the rocker next to Zach’s playpen and tried to pray. The police had come awhile ago, followed by reporters from the local newspaper. With no information about the vehicle the man had been driving, the police said it would be difficult to track him down. Not only that, but the Fishers had no pictures of Zach, since it went against their beliefs to own a camera or have their picture taken. Naomi knew a few Amish teenagers who owned cameras and kept them in secret, but Papa would have punished anyone in his family who tried something like that.

“Zach ain’t never comin’ back, is he?”

Naomi jerked her head. Nancy stood by the back door with tears coursing down her cheeks. Mary Ann stood beside her, looking like she’d lost her best friend.

“Things aren’t lookin’ so good, but we have to pray believing.” Even as she said the words, Naomi knew she didn’t believe them. She’d been praying all afternoon and into the evening, and it hadn’t brought Zach home.

The tension Naomi felt in her neck earlier mounted with each passing moment. She was scared. Even more so than when her mother was hit by a car and she worried Mama might not live. If God had done nothing to prevent her mamm from stepping into the road to retrieve some mail, what made Naomi think He would bring her little brother home?

“Papa’s still outside talking with the police and those newspaper reporters,” Nancy said, moving across the room. She dropped into a chair and leaned her elbows on the table. Mary Ann followed and did the same. “They want to take pictures of the family, but he won’t let ’em.”

“That’s right. Papa said, ‘Absolutely no,’” Mary Ann put in.

Naomi shook her head. “I wouldn’t think he’d agree to anyone takin’ pictures.” Tears clouded her vision. She was the cause of all this.
How can I go on living, knowing it was because of my carelessness Zach was taken? What if I never see my little brother again? What if something awful has happened to him?

Naomi remembered reading an article awhile back in the Amish newspaper,
The Budget
. It told about two little Mennonite girls who’d become trapped inside a cedar chest. Three days later, they were found smothered to death.

She feared the worst for her baby brother, and visions of Zach being mistreated threatened to suffocate her. What if the English man planned to hurt the boy? She knew that many children who’d been kidnapped were either killed or physically abused. She’d read accounts of such things in the newspaper. There were many evil people in the world, and for all she knew, that English man who’d asked for root beer could be one of the worst.

Naomi spotted Zach’s bib draped over his high chair. It looked the same as always, as though Zach would be sitting in the chair at supper, wearing the bib tied behind his chubby little neck. She could almost taste the sweetness of her little brother, but he wouldn’t be here tonight. Truth was, he might never sit in that high chair again.

A renewed sense of loss rocked Naomi, and she doubled over, letting her head fall onto her knees. Her world was spinning out of control, and she was powerless to stop it.
Oh, Zach, my sweet little brother, what I have done to you? What have I done to this family?

Someone touched her head, and she looked up.

“Don’t cry, Naomi. Please, don’t.” The sorrowful look on Mary Ann’s face only made Naomi feel worse.

“Ball wollt’s besser geh—
soon it will go better
,
” Nancy said as she left the table.

Naomi wanted to be brave in front of her younger sisters. She wanted to believe things would go better. She wished she could offer words of comfort and be strong for the others. It was her job to look after the family. She’d promised Mama she would, and now it seemed she was incapable of caring for anyone. She had proven that by leaving Zach on the picnic table.

Oh, Mama, I’ve let you down. I’m so sorry.

The back door squeaked open, and Papa marched into the room. She could see the pain behind his dark eyes and knew she was the cause.

“Are the reporters and policemen gone?” Naomi asked.

He nodded curtly and stalked across the room, stopping a few feet from where she sat in the rocker. “Matthew and Norman are out on the road looking again, but I’m sure it’s no use. Zach’s gone. They won’t find him.”

The look of defeat on Papa’s face was nearly Naomi’s undoing.

“Where are Jake and Samuel?” Nancy asked. “I thought they’d be asking for something to eat by now.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ hungry, too.” Mary Ann glanced at Naomi. “When are ya plannin’ to start supper?”

Papa shot the girl a look that sent shivers up Naomi’s spine. “How can you think about food at a time like this? Don’t ya care that your baby brother’s been kidnapped?”

Naomi stood. “Mary Ann’s only a child, Papa. She doesn’t fully understand what’s happened today, and I’m sure she didn’t mean she doesn’t care.”

She cringed when her father shook his fist and hollered, “This is all your fault, Naomi! You were supposed to be in charge of the kinner, and leavin’ Zach outside with a stranger was downright
schlappich
.”

“I know I was careless, Papa, but I—”

He shook his head. “You weren’t just careless. What you did was
narrisch
.”

“Naomi ain’t crazy, Papa,” Mary Ann defended.

He whirled around, and for a moment, Naomi was afraid he would strike the child. “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it! I didn’t say Naomi was narrisch. I said what she
did
was crazy.”

Nancy grabbed hold of his shirtsleeve. “What are we gonna do now, Papa? How can we make things right?”

He released a deep moan. “The newspaper is plannin’ to run a story about our missing boy, so all we can do is pray and hope the English man brings Zach home or that somebody saw him drive away from our place and can identify the vehicle.” He shook his head. “I fear the worst. If I ever see my baby again, it’ll be a miracle.”

The room began to spin, and Naomi grabbed for the chair to steady herself.
“Der Herr, bilf mir—
the Lord help me. Please, help us all.”

CHAPTER 12

Naomi sat in the rocking chair long after Papa went upstairs. He’d said some hurtful things earlier, yet she felt she deserved every cutting word. It was her fault Zach was missing, and if they didn’t get the baby back, she would never forgive herself. As much as it hurt, she couldn’t blame her daed or anyone else in the family if they chose not to forgive her.

“Naomi, I’m gettin’ awful hungry,” Mary Ann complained. “Can’t we please have some supper?”

Naomi stood as though in a daze and moved slowly to the kitchen cupboard. “Jah, okay. Maybe some sandwiches then.” She would feed the younger ones, but she doubted Papa would want anything to eat. Truth was, she had no appetite for food, either, and wondered if she would ever feel like eating again. Her body felt paralyzed with grief. She didn’t want to eat, talk, or even move, yet she knew she must do all three.

If Zach comes home, everything will be all right,
she told herself.
I need another chance to prove I’m responsible. That’s all I want. Just one more chance; is it too much to ask?

Naomi’s heart pounded when she heard a horse and buggy trot into the yard. Were her brothers back so soon? Had they found Zach? Oh, she hoped it was so.

She lifted the shade and strained to see who was outside. It was getting dark, and the yard, lit only by the moon, was full of shadows.

A knock sounded at the back door, and Naomi realized it wasn’t Matthew or Norman. They would never have knocked.

“Want me to get it?” asked Nancy, who had begun setting the table.

“If you wish.”

A few seconds later, the door opened, and Marvin Hoffmeir stepped into the room.

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned heavily against the cupboard.
What’s he doing here, especially at a time like this when our world’s been turned upside down? We don’t need company now; that’s for certain sure.

“Naomi, are you okay?” Marvin asked.

She forced her eyes open and turned to face him. “Something terrible happened here today.”

He nodded, and she noticed his blond hair was sweat-soaked around the edges where it met his straw hat. Marvin was two years younger than Caleb and had the same color hair, but his eyes were dark brown, not clear blue like his brother’s.

“I know about Zach,” Marvin said. “I ran into Matthew and Norman on the road when I was returning from the bus station.”

“What were you doin’ at the bus station?” Nancy asked.

Marvin removed his hat. “Took Caleb there so’s he could go to Berlin, Ohio. Our cousin Henry has a buggy shop there, and he wrote a letter saying he got in some old parts he thought Caleb might like to have.” He took a step toward Naomi. “Sure sorry to hear about Zach, and I wanted to drop by and say so.”

“Danki. It’s appreciated,” Naomi murmured.

“Wish there was something I could say to make your family’s pain a bit less.”

“You can pray,” Mary Ann piped up. “It’s what we’re all doin’; ain’t that right, Naomi?”

Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but her dad’s booming voice cut her off before she could speak. “What are you doin’ here, Marvin?” Papa asked as he marched into the room. “This isn’t a good time to come calling.”

Marvin explained about running into Matthew and Norman on the road. “Matthew mentioned how upset everyone was, and I thought maybe I could offer some words of comfort or maybe help in some way.”

“Who went and made you the new bishop?” Papa asked mockingly.

Naomi flinched. She could hardly believe her father had said such a thing. “There’s no call to be rude, Papa.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Marvin said. “You’ve had a terrible shock today.”

“You know nothin’ about what we’ve been through!” Papa shouted. “My boppli’s been snatched by a stranger. Can you understand the pain of losin’ your son? Well, can ya, boy?”

Marvin shook his head. “No, but my brother Andy ran a nail through his thumb the other day, and—”

“A hurt hand is nothin’ compared to our loss. I think you’d better head home. We don’t need your sympathy.” Papa drew in a deep breath and clenched his fists at his sides. He was visibly shaking, and Naomi knew he was taking out his frustrations on Caleb’s brother.

She took a few steps toward her father. “Papa, Marvin only wanted to offer his support. He knows we’re upset and feels our pain, just as the others will when they hear what’s happened.”

Papa pulled out a chair at the table and lowered himself into it with a groan. “Jah, well, it ain’t you I’m mad at, Marvin. Sorry for speakin’ thataway.”

Naomi swallowed around the lump in her throat. She knew
she
was the one her papa was angry with. He’d already made that clear enough.
Well, he can’t be any angrier with me than I am with myself.
The pain of losing Zach was like having a sliver in her thumb. She’d felt its presence ever since she discovered her little brother was missing.

Marvin shuffled his feet a few times. “I—uh—guess I should get goin’.”

“Wanna stay and have supper with us?” This came from Mary Ann, who had taken a chunk of ham out of the refrigerator. “Naomi’s gonna make sandwiches.”

Naomi frowned at her youngest sister. “I never said that.”

“Did, too.”

“I did not. I only agreed to fix you something to eat. I never said what it would be.” Naomi couldn’t believe she was arguing with Mary Ann—and over something so petty.
What’s wrong with me? I’m not thinking straight right now. I’m not myself at all. Maybe I did agree to make sandwiches and just don’t remember.

Naomi took the ham from her sister. “All right. I’ll fix a plate of sandwiches.” She glanced at the back door. “Matthew and Norman will probably be hungry when they get home, too.”

Papa’s fist pounded the table, clattering the silverware and almost toppling over the glasses. “This talk about food is ridiculous! Our Zach has been stolen, and all anyone can think about is eatin’? What’s wrong with the lot of you?”

Mary Ann’s lower lip quivered, and Nancy cringed. The children weren’t accustomed to seeing their father so agitated. They weren’t used to losing their brother, either, yet it had happened, and they would have to deal with it. Starving the children sure wasn’t the way. Naomi knew that much.

Marvin cleared his throat, and Naomi swung her gaze back to him. She’d almost forgotten he was still here, what with all the fuss about sandwiches and Papa’s angry outburst. “I—uh—appreciate the offer to stay for supper, but I need to get home. Mom will be expectin’ me,” Marvin mumbled.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Naomi said, moving in that direction.

He shook his head. “That’s okay. I know my way out.” Marvin took two steps, then looked back. It was as though he wanted to say something more but was afraid to say it. Maybe it was for the best. Everyone had said enough already.

“Good night, Marvin. It was kind of you to stop by,” Nancy said, surprising Naomi and causing Papa to glare at her.

“Night,” he mumbled. “I’ll be prayin’ for you. Please keep me and the family posted.” With that said, Caleb’s brother walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Naomi turned to her father. “Papa, is it all right if I fix something for the girls to eat?”

He stood and headed for the back door. “Do whatever you like.”

“Where ya goin’?” Mary Ann called.

He never replied, only slammed the door behind him.

Naomi’s hands trembled as she reached inside the cupboard and retrieved a loaf of bread. This didn’t make sense, her fixing supper as though it were any other night of the week, the brothers out combing the roads in hopes of finding Zach, and Papa outside probably ruing the day Naomi was born.

“I—I—don’t know if I can do this,” she whimpered.

“Here, let me help.” Nancy took the bread from Naomi and buttered several slices. “Why don’t you fix yourself a cup of herb tea? Might help to calm you down. Mama always said tea was like a soothing balm whenever she was tired or had a bad day.”

Naomi didn’t feel like drinking a cup of tea any more than she did eating a ham sandwich. All she wanted to do was reach into Zach’s playpen, lift him into her arms, and drink in the sweetness of her little brother until she felt dizzy from the joy of holding him. She glanced at the playpen, filled only with a couple of Zach’s homemade toys. The reality that they might never see him again hit her one more time. She stifled a sob and stumbled out of the room.

***

Caleb would be glad to get off the bus and stretch his legs. He had called Henry from the bus station in Lancaster to let him know what time he’d arrive in Dover and ask if he could arrange for him to get a ride to Berlin. It was nice Henry had a phone in his buggy shop. It was much easier to make contact that way.

“Too bad Pop’s against the idea of me having one,” he muttered.

“Were you talking to me?” the elderly woman who sat beside Caleb asked.

He’d thought she was asleep. Her eyes had been closed, so he figured ... “I—um—sorry to disturb you. I’ve got a habit of talkin’ to myself.”

“That’s all right,” she said, pushing a wayward strand of silver gray hair back into place. “My husband, rest his soul, used to talk to himself all the time.”

Caleb leaned his head against the seat back and closed his eyes. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

“You’re one of those Plain people, aren’t you?”

He opened his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Amish.”

“Are you from Holmes County?”

“No, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.”

“But you’re heading to Ohio?”

“Jah. My cousin has a buggy shop there.”

“Isn’t that interesting? Arnold, my late husband, used to own an old Student Buggy, made by G. & D. Cook & Co. Carriage Makers.”

Caleb’s ears perked up. “Is that so? I’m a buggy maker, too, and I also repair antique carriages.”

“Really?”

Caleb nodded. “I bought a book on antique buggies the other day, and there was a picture of an antique Student Buggy in it. Looked a little like the open carriages we Amish sometimes drive.”

“Do you make a good living selling buggies?” she asked.

“Fair to middlin’. Make enough so’s I could support a wife and family.” Caleb thought about Naomi. He sure wished she were free to court. He wished she didn’t have to work so hard, either. Maybe when he got back to Pennsylvania, he’d finally get over to see her, like he’d planned on doing today.
Of course, I’d better wait ’til her daed isn’t at home.

***

Jim knew he was pushing hard, stopping less often than he usually did, but he was in a hurry to leave Pennsylvania and get to Ohio. They had stopped to get something for Jimmy to eat as soon as they left Lancaster County. Linda stocked up on formula and bought two baby bottles, not knowing if the boy had been weaned. She’d also purchased several jars of baby food, as well as some teething biscuits, juice, and a few outfits. She made a comment about how odd it seemed that the baby’s real mother hadn’t sent more than a package of diapers and one outfit with him.

I can hardly tell her the truth about that,
Jim thought as he glanced in the rearview mirror. He hadn’t seen any cops, or at least none had paid him any mind. That was good. Must mean no one had identified him or the van. Hopefully, he was in the clear.

As he took another look in the mirror, Jim caught a glimpse of Linda. She hummed while she stroked the baby’s golden brown hair. She had insisted on riding in the back with the boy. “I can care for his needs better this way,” she’d said when they left the hotel in Lancaster.

That was fine with Jim. It gave him a chance to think; and since Linda was preoccupied with the baby, she wouldn’t be likely to pester him with a bunch of questions he didn’t feel like answering.

Jim glanced at his watch. It was almost four o’clock. Pittsburgh was four hours from Lancaster, and they’d been traveling two hours, so they were halfway there.
Maybe we should stop for the night and get a hotel in Pittsburgh
.
We can have some dinner, get a good night’s rest, and arrive at Mom and Dad’s in Millersburg a few hours after breakfast.

He smiled and turned on the radio. Everything was going to be fine. By this time tomorrow, they’d be sitting in his folks’ living room, watching TV, and playing with their son.

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