by Pamela Bauer
“We don’t know that they didn’t.”
“They didn’t file a police report.”
It was the same question that had been troubling him. “Maybe because they live apart from modern society and independent of government.”
“Or because they believe those who leave are fallen from God’s grace.”
Again silence stretched between them. After only a few minutes he realized that she’d fallen asleep. While she dozed he thought about that very question. Were the Amish that private a people that they wouldn’t have asked for help in locating their missing daughter?
It wasn’t long before Faith awakened from her nap, shooting forward with a gasp.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She looked at him, then sank back against the seat with a sigh. “I’m okay. I—I must have been dreaming.”
“About your past?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” he urged her.
“I can’t.”
He didn’t want to press her, but he felt as if she were becoming Amish right before his eyes. Separating herself from him.
A few minutes later she said, “Oh, look!”
Traveling on one of the side roads beside the highway was a horse-drawn buggy. He didn’t ask her if it looked familiar. She turned her head and stared at it long after he’d passed it by.
The closer they got to Harmony, the more he wanted to turn around and drive as far away as he could in the opposite direction. He knew running away wouldn’t solve anything. Her memory could return tomorrow and they would still have to make this trip. He was surprised to hear she was thinking the same thing.
“It was inevitable—eventually I would have remembered who I am,” she stated calmly.
“Do you really think you would have gone back after fifteen years?”
“I don’t know that I’m going back now,” she said quietly. “I’m just trying to find out who I am.”
He could have told her he knew who she was. She was the woman who made his life complete, the woman who’d given hope to a six-year-old who, for months had been saddened by grief but now sang with joy. He said nothing, however, because he knew how difficult it already was for her to be taking this step.
As he lowered his speed to enter the business section of Harmony she said, “It looks like a nice place.”
It was a nice place—it just wasn’t the place where Adam wanted to be. When he parked the SUV he looked at her and said, “Ready?”
“No,” she answered in her usual candid manner.
“Want to get a cup of coffee first? There’s a café right around the corner.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m right here with you.”
As they entered the gift shop, a bell tinkled and from a back room came the same woman Adam had seen yesterday. Her smile froze when she saw Faith.
She disappeared into the back room and seconds later the man Adam had talked to yesterday came out.
Adam put a hand beneath Faith’s elbow and led her over to the counter. “This is Faith,” he announced.
When the man saw her, he called out to his wife who once more came out from the back room.
She muttered something in German, which caused the color to drain from Faith’s face. “Does she recognize you?” Adam wanted to know, although it was obvious from the looks being exchanged that it was an unnecessary question.
Stunned, Faith answered, “She said I’m her cousin.”
Adam’s heart sank. So it was true. Faith was Amish. He watched her shock turn into relief as the couple spoke rapidly in German, gesturing with their hands. Any reservation they had had about speaking to strangers was gone as they talked to Faith. Adam saw no suspicious glances, only welcoming smiles.
As if suddenly aware that he was standing next to her, Faith turned to him and said, “I have a name. I know who I am.” There was bewilderment in her eyes and joy in her words. “Can you believe it? I have an identity!”
“What is your name?” Adam asked.
“She’s Esther Miller, Ebram Miller’s daughter.” It wasn’t Faith who answered, but her cousin who introduced herself as Mary and her husband as John.
“Esther?” Adam looked at Faith.
She shrugged, as if saying, “What can I say?”
“What about family?” He felt his heart booming in his chest as he waited for her to answer that particular question.
Faith looked anxiously at Mary. “Do I have children?”
“No, you never married,” she answered, and Adam’s chest felt like a balloon being deflated. She was single with no children.
Faith glanced at him then and he saw in her eyes the same relief he was feeling. “Does this Ebram live around here?” he asked.
“Ja, it’s just south of here,” John replied. “It’s pretty easy to find.”
“I could take you,” Mary offered, but Adam wasn’t ready to leave Faith in anyone else’s hands.
When Faith suggested, “Maybe you could write down the directions,” he shot her a grateful look.
Mary did as she requested, then gave the slip of paper to Faith who thanked her. “Remember what we told you,” the woman warned her as Faith shook her hand.
As soon as they were out of the shop Adam asked her what the comment meant.
“They both warned me that my father doesn’t like the English and that he especially doesn’t like the English when they come to his place in automobiles,” she said as they climbed into his vehicle.
“Do I need protection?” he quipped, but she didn’t respond.
He started the car and headed toward the Miller farm following the directions, which were fairly simple. Faith acted as his navigator, watching for landmarks and road signs. Despite having said only hours ago that she didn’t want to learn she was Amish, now that it had been confirmed, she looked more excited than dismayed.
“You don’t look like an Esther,” he said as he glanced at her sitting across from him.
“And how does an Esther look?” she wanted to know.
“I don’t know, but you’re not it. You’ll always be Faith to me,” he said, reaching across to give her hand a squeeze.
They reached a fork in the road, which indicated they were close to the Miller farm. Within minutes they were at a white farmhouse.
“I think this is it,” she said as they approached the farmstead.
There wasn’t much of a driveway, just some worn tracks that Adam guessed came from a buggy. The house was a two-story with a large porch across the front, a clothesline extending from one end to a windmill. A young girl who didn’t look to be much older than Megan was cutting the small patch of lawn with a push mower. When she saw the car, she stopped and ran up the steps and into the house.
Adam didn’t see any place to park. A couple of horses grazed in a fenced pasture to their right. On the other side of the house was a barn and next to it were several outbuildings. He pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine.
A woman appeared at the door wearing a long dark blue dress with an apron. On her head was a white pleated cap. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Standing next to her was the girl who’d been pushing the mower. Another small child pushed the door open and tried to run out onto the porch, but the woman pulled her back inside.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Adam asked.
Faith looked at the buildings scattered about the farm. “This should be it.”
“Are you ready to see if it is?”
She nodded and they climbed out of the car.
The woman at the door disappeared and Faith said, “Not exactly a warm welcome, is it?”
The clopping of horses and the clanging of wheels had their heads turning. Approaching the house was an Amish buggy. It came to a halt only a few feet away from the house.
The driver jumped down and came toward them. He wore de
nim pants that were held up by leather suspenders and he had a long scraggly beard that touched the top buttons on his blue shirt. On his head was a straw hat, covering most, but not all of, his hair. He squinted in the bright sunshine, his stride cautious as he walked toward them.
“Is there something I can help you with?” he called out, the distrust evident in his voice. The suspicion disappeared, however, when he saw Faith. “Es?” he called out in disbelief. “Is that you?”
She nodded and a smile slowly spread across his face and his steps quickened. He reached out, grabbed her and swung her around, lifting her off the ground as he spoke in German.
“Speak English,” she ordered him as he set her back on the ground.
“It’s so good to see you, Es. When you left without saying goodbye I thought we’d never see you again.” Overcome with emotion, he had to dab at his eyes with a handkerchief.
Adam thought it would be a good time to introduce himself. “I’m Adam Novak.”
“Levi Miller,” he said, taking the hand Adam offered.
“He says he’s my brother,” Faith added.
“You may leave and cut your hair and wear English clothes, but I will always think of you as my sister, Es,” Levi said gravely. He turned back to the buggy. “Boys!” It was then that Adam saw the two kids standing shyly beside the buggy. They looked like miniature versions of their father, minus the beard. “Come say hello to your aunt Es.” To Faith he said, “You remember Jacob and Martin.”
“No, I’m sorry but I don’t,” she answered, bending to say hello to each of her nephews.
Seeing the puzzled look on Levi’s face, Adam explained, “Your sister has amnesia. There was an accident and she sustained a head injury.”
“You have forgotten your own family?” He stared at her in stunned disbelief.
She nodded. “I have no memory of anything that happened before the accident last winter. It’s only because John and Mary Miller recognized me that I am here now.”
Her brother stood looking at her with his mouth open. “And that is why you’ve been gone? Because you didn’t remember that you belonged here?”
“Yes.”
The disbelief changed to relief, followed by a smile. “If that is the case, then everything will be fine.”
Adam was as puzzled as Faith was.
“There will be no shunning, not if you are ill and do not know you’re Amish.”
The screen door opened and the two little girls who’d been gazing out at them earlier poked their heads outside. Levi looked at them and said, “All right. You can come and say hello, too.” Once he waved they came running over to see Faith.
He put a loving arm around his daughters. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten these two, as well?”
“Ja,” she said with an apologetic smile.
“Mary Ellen and Katie.” He touched each of their shoulders as he introduced them. “Say hello to your aunt.”
Faith conversed in German with them briefly, then turned to Adam, amazement lighting her eyes. “I have nieces and nephews.”
“Ja, lots of them,” Levi added. “Gideon has two boys and Samuel and Ben each have one.” Seeing her confused look he said, “You have four brothers. You’re our only sister.”
“It’s a big family,” she noted.
“With more on the way,” he said with grin. “Sarah’s pregnant.” Seeing her puzzled look he quickly added, “My wife. She’s inside with the little ones. Does Dat know you’re home?”
She shook her head. “I thought he’d be here.”
“Dat has moved into the grossdawdy house.” Seeing her confusion he said, “Don’t worry. You’ll make sense of things soon. You go inside and visit with Sarah. I’ll get Dat.” He headed back to the buggy.
Faith’s nieces and nephews gathered around her, looking at her expectantly as they waited for her to go inside. She gave Adam a helpless look and he could see that she was overwhelmed by the discoveries she was making.
“You go on in. I’ll wait out here,” he said out of respect for the Amish.
Faith asked the oldest of the children, “Do you think it would be all right if Mr. Novak came inside?”
Jacob closed one eye and cocked his head. “Mam has English friends who come to tea.”
Faith looked at Adam. “I think it’s okay.”
But Adam remembered the look that had been on her sister-in-law’s face when they’d first arrived, and he decided against it. “No. This is your time with your family. I’ll sit out here. It’s a beautiful day.” He took a seat on one of the cane rockers.
It was peaceful on the porch. The house sat on a hill, giving it a vantage point overlooking the fields of alfalfa and corn. As he looked around the homestead, he tried to imagine Faith as a little girl running around barefoot in the grass and sitting on the wooden swing that hung on a rope from an old oak tree next to the house.
Time passed slowly as he waited and wondered what she was learning about herself inside the house. It wasn’t long before she came back out.
“Are your questions getting answered?” he asked as she sat down on the rocker next to his.
“Some of them. I know my mother died last winter, right before I disappeared.”
He placed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry.”
“This used to be her and my father’s house. It felt strange to touch the things inside.” Her face was pensive as she talked.
“Do you feel comfortable in the house?”
“Yes, and no…. It’s hard to explain.” Faith went silent and he wished that she’d try to explain.
“Any memory flashes while you were inside?”
She shook her head. “I think I should take a walk around the farm…see if I can’t find something that looks familiar.”
“Would you like me to go with you?”
Before she could answer, the sound of a horse-drawn buggy approaching again had them glancing toward the road. She stood as it drew near the house. “Levi’s back.”
Adam watched a gray-bearded man dressed in the same clothing as Faith’s brother and wearing a similar straw hat climb out of the buggy. He started toward Faith, then stopped. She didn’t wait for him to reach her, but went down the steps to meet him. From the porch Adam watched her shyly approach him and speak to him in German. He expected them to embrace, but either Ebram Miller was a cold man or he was not happy to see his daughter.
After a few minutes, Faith brought him up onto the porch. He extended his hand to Adam. “I thank you for bringing my daughter home. She was lost, but now is found.”
Adam understood the tears in his eyes. Although he and this man were worlds apart in their beliefs, he had experienced the same emotion when Megan had come to live with him.
“You will stay and have dinner with us?” Ebram asked.
Adam glanced at Faith who was once more surrounded by her nieces and nephews, enjoying the attention they lavished upon her.
“It’s kind of you to offer, but I need to return to the city,” he answered. He turned to Faith. “How much longer do you want to stay?”
Ebram turned to Faith. “You’re not going to leave?” His voice resonated with authority, making the question sound more like an order. “This is your home. You are Amish, not English.”
Faith looked at Adam, a helplessness in her eyes as the circle of Amish children gathered around her begged her to stay.
“Dat’s right, Es.” Levi shared his father’s sentiments. “There shouldn’t be any shunning. You were not baptized.”
“I’m—I’m not worried about that,” she told him.
“If you want to leave and come back, we can do that,” Adam suggested.
He saw a fire burn in her father’s eyes at the suggestion. “No, she should not leave.”
“How are you going to find those lost memories if you’re not in the place where those memories were made?” Levi asked. When she remained indecisive he added, “You can have your old room. Mary Ellen’s in there no
w, but she can move in with Katie.”
“But I didn’t bring a change of clothes,” Faith told him.
“Sarah never got rid of your clothes. They’re in a trunk in the attic,” her brother told her.
Adam could see Faith was torn as to what she should do. “You can always come visit for a few days when you’re more prepared,” Adam suggested.
He thought it seemed like a good solution. A visit would be good. In the meantime, she could go home with him knowing that there was nothing in her past to keep them from being together.
He thought it was what she would do. That’s why he was caught off guard when she said, “I have to stay…at least for a while.”
He wanted to tell her she didn’t, but he knew he couldn’t put any pressure on her to go back with him. For months she’d been waiting for this moment. Now it had come. He was simply going to have to be patient.
“Wouldn’t it be better to go back to St. Paul, pack a few things…? Megan doesn’t know about any of this.”
Faith chewed on her lower lip before saying, “No, I think it’s better if I stay. I’ll phone Megan and the Carsons and explain.”
“There are no phones here,” her father’s voice boomed.
“I have a cell phone,” she announced.
“We only use phones for emergency, Es, and then it’s in town, not here,” Levi explained.
“But this is an emergency. I need to tell the little girl I care for I won’t be there tomorrow.”
Father and son exchanged glances, then the father walked away muttering something in German. It was enough for Adam to say, “You’re not going to stay, are you?”
“Yes. I’ll be all right. I’ll keep the cell phone.”
He wanted to argue but he could see that she was intrigued by this new world she had yet to uncover. “I hate leaving you,” he couldn’t resist saying in a low voice as she walked him to the Lexus.
She bit down on her lip, as if to keep from crying. “I know.”
“You know you can call me if you need anything?”
She nodded. “You understand why I have to stay.”
He didn’t, but he nodded anyway.