The Storekeeper's Daughter

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The Storekeeper's Daughter Page 11

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  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 mak
e 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.

  CHAPTER 13

  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.”

 

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