The Storekeeper's Daughter

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The Storekeeper's Daughter Page 19

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  Jacob stepped around the counter and placed his hand on Abraham’s trembling shoulder. “Give it to God, Abraham. He’s not the cause of all this, ya know.”

  Abraham shook his head. “No, I don’t know. He could have stopped it from happening. He could have—”

  “God don’t work that way, and we must remember His ways are not our ways.” Jacob squeezed Abraham’s shoulder. “God loves you. Focus on His person and His goodness. Wait for Him to act. Allow Him to heal your heart and help you forgive those who have trespassed against you.”

  “I—I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “You can, and you must. Release the anger. Pray for the man who took your boy. Give Zach and Naomi over to the Lord and rest in Him.” Jacob paused. “First Corinthians ten, verse thirteen reminds us that He will never suffer us to be tested above what we are able to bear. God told Paul, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’”

  “I feel more like Job than Paul,” Abraham said. “Everything I dearly loved has been snatched away from me. Sarah—Zach—and now Naomi.”

  “That’s not true, Abraham. You still have six other kinner who love you and need your support.”

  Abraham cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump. “Wish I knew for sure that Zach and Naomi are all right. I could rest a lot easier if I had the assurance they’re both safe.”

  Jacob’s eyes were watery as though he, too, were fighting tears. “Maybe God has plans for your boy—and Naomi, too. Might could be one or both of ’em has a job to do out there in the English world.”

  “A job? What kind of job?”

  “Maybe the man who took Zach will find his way to God because of something Zach says or does.”

  “But how could that be? Zach’s only a year old. What does he know about God?”

  Jacob shrugged. “Probably nothin’ yet, but in the days ahead, a lot could happen.”

  “And Naomi? How do you think God will use her running away to bring about something good?”

  “Can’t rightly say, but I do know if you turn them both over to the heavenly Father, trust Him in all things, and picture the two of them livin’ healthy, happy lives, you’ll have a lot more peace.” Jacob smiled. “Isaiah forty, verse thirty-one: ‘But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.’”

  “ ‘They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.’” Abraham finished the verse of scripture with tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’ll wait, Jacob. Wait on the Lord and ask Him to protect my kinner and use them in a mighty way. It won’t be easy, though.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Before boarding the bus, Fannie hugged her daughter one last time as a knot rose in her throat. She and Abby hadn’t been apart more than a few hours since Abby was a young girl and used to spend the night with her friend Rachel. Ever since Abby’s dad passed away, she had preferred to be with her mother. Fannie hoped Abby would be okay during the few days she would be gone.

  “It’s all right, Mom,” Abby said, as though sensing her mother’s concerns. “I’ll be fine, and so will the quilt shop.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, and I’ve asked your brother to check in on you, so if you need anything, be sure to let either Harold or Lena know.”

  “I will, Mom.” Abby handed her mother a newspaper. “Here’s the newest issue of The Budget. I thought you’d like to take it along so you’ll have something to read on the bus.”

  “Danki.” Fannie forced her tears to stay put. “See you in a few days. Be well, and don’t work too hard.”

  Abby smiled. “I won’t. Have a good time, and tell Cousin Edna I said hello and to have a right nice birthday.”

  “I’ll tell her.” Fannie turned and stepped onto the bus. She was sure she would feel better once she was on the road. She found a seat near the back and was glad when no one sat beside her. Though normally quite talkative, this morning she wasn’t in the mood to engage in conversation. All she wanted to do was read The Budget and relax.

  As the bus pulled away from the station in Dover, she settled herself in the seat and opened the newspaper. Usually she read it from front to back, but today Fannie felt inclined to check out the classified ad section first. One never knew when they might find a good deal on quilting material or notions, and sometimes there were auctions advertised, asking for quilts.

  She scanned the want ads first, and sure enough, there was an ad telling about a quilt auction to be held in Indiana next month. When she got back home, she’d have to see if she had anything she might want to send.

  From there, Fannie’s gaze went to the notice section. One notice in particular caught her attention. It was titled, “To the Amish Boy’s Family.” Her interest piqued, Fannie read on. “This is to notify the family of the Amish baby taken from a farm in Lancaster County in June of this year—the boy is fine. He’s healthy, happy, and well cared for.”

  Fannie let the paper fall to her lap. This could be Abraham Fisher’s boy. Sure sounds like it’s so. After all, how many Amish babies could have been kidnapped in Lancaster County during the month of June? Goosebumps erupted all over her arms, and she shivered. Has Abraham read this? Does he subscribe to The Budget ? She knew immediately where her first stop in Lancaster County had to be. She should arrive at the bus station in Lancaster sometime this afternoon. A friend had given her the number of a woman who lived in the area and drove for the Amish, so the first thing she planned to do was phone the English woman. She would ask to be driven to Fisher’s General Store outside the town of Paradise. If Abraham hadn’t read this ad, he certainly needed to. If this was his boy, he had to know the child was safe.

  ***

  “Don’t get me wrong. Our trip has been a blast, and I loved seeing all the sights with you in Chicago and along the way as we came out west, but I’m ready to get off the road now and settle in. I bet you are, too. I think we should be in Portland in about three hours.” Ginny turned up the volume on the radio, and a country-western song blared through the speakers. “I sure do like this type of music, don’t you?”

  Naomi frowned. “It’s kind of loud, don’t ya think?”

  “I prefer it that way. Helps me stay awake.”

  “Maybe we should stop awhile and stretch our legs.”

  Ginny glanced at Naomi. “Are you needing a rest stop?”

  Naomi didn’t really have the need, but it would feel good to walk around and get away from the annoying music for a while. It might also help Ginny to wake up, which was important since she was their only driver. “Jah, I’m thinkin’ it would be nice to stop.”

  “I’ll pull into a rest stop then. The sign I saw back a ways said the next one was ten miles. Should be seeing it soon, I imagine.”

  Naomi pushed the button to make her window roll down and tried to relax. Did her family miss her as much as she missed them? What were they doing in her absence? It was September already, and toward the end of August, the younger children had no doubt gone back to school. Were they managing all right? Night and day, so many unanswered questions plagued her, but she kept reminding herself that leaving home had been for the best. She’d mailed Papa a postcard last week to let him know she was okay. She had made no mention of where she and Ginny were or where they were heading. He probably wouldn’t care anyway.

  Naomi leaned over and pulled a notebook and a pen from the small canvas bag at her feet. The day after they’d left Lancaster County, she began keeping a journal. At first she’d only written about places they’d seen along the way, but then she started writing down her private thoughts. It helped some, yet there was still a deep ache in her soul that no amount of note taking could dispel. If only she could change the past—go back and make things right. But that was impossible. All Naomi could do was make a new life for herself. She was convinced her family didn’t want her anymore.

  “We’re almost to Oregon,” she wrote. “Clear across the country we’ve come. Everything looks different on thi
s end of the United States. Lots of tall mountains, like beautiful Mount Rainier. Even though it’s warm right now, there’s no humidity. Ginny says we’ll be in Portland in a few hours. Guess she’s lined things up with her friend, Carla, for us to stay at her place until we both get jobs.”

  Naomi sighed. Would she even be able to find a job in the big city? It seemed like Ginny might be working at the fitness center Carla had told her about, but Naomi had no prospects at all.

  “I used to envy Ginny and think I might want to be part of the English world,” she wrote in her journal. “Now I’m not so sure. Truth is, I feel like a chicken tryin’ to build a nest on top of a hot stove. It’s like I don’t belong anywhere now. I’m not Amish ’cause I left that behind, yet I’m not really English, either.” She glanced down at her faded blue jeans, which used to be Ginny’s. “I’m dressed in English clothes, wearin’ my hair down, and have started to use some makeup, but inside I still feel Plain.”

  “We’re here. You ready to use the rest room?”

  Ginny’s question drove Naomi’s thoughts to the back of her mind, and she quickly returned her notebook to the canvas bag.

  Naomi got out of the car and followed Ginny up the path toward the women’s rest room. She glanced over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of a man heading to the men’s side of the building. She halted and stood there, her heart pounding like a hammer. Was that him—the Englisher who took Zach? But how could she be thinking such a thing when she’d told the police she barely took notice of the man who’d come to ask for root beer? Had she seen and remembered more than she realized, not recalling it until now, or was her mind merely playing tricks on her?

  “Naomi, are you coming or not?”

  Naomi jerked her head. Ginny glared at her as though she’d done something wrong.

  “What are you standing there for? I thought you had to use the rest room.”

  “I—I—do, but—” Naomi turned to take another look at the man, but he was gone.

  Ginny furrowed her brows. “What’s the matter with you, girl? You look like you’ve eaten a bunch of sour grapes.”

  “Nothin’s wrong. I’m fine.” Naomi started walking again. The stress of leaving home and trying to make her way in a foreign world must be getting to her. Jah, that’s all it was.

  ***

  Abraham was glad the kinner were back in school. He didn’t have to worry about watching out for them at the store during the day. Only trouble was, he had no one’s assistance now. Even though his younger girls weren’t nearly as much help as Naomi had been, Nancy and Mary Ann could stock shelves and do some cleanup around the place. Now he was faced with doing everything himself, and there was certainly no time for naps.

  Today was one of those days when he really needed a rest. He’d been stocking shelves all morning when there were no customers, and he barely had enough time to choke down a sandwich at noon. It would be nice if he could head for the back room and lie down on the cot. Just a few minutes to close his eyes and let the weariness drain from his body.

  “Maybe I should close the store for a day or two. Then I could stay home and get caught up on my sleep.” He grabbed a dust rag from under the counter and attacked the accumulated grime on the shelves behind him. “That wouldn’t make much sense. If I closed the store, then I’d be losin’ money. Besides, there’s as much work at home, and unless I decide to hire a maid, it’ll just keep piling up.”

  “I see you’re talkin’ to yourself again.”

  Abraham whirled around. Jacob Weaver stood inside the door with a smile on his face. “I admit it. I was talkin’ to myself.” Before Jacob could comment, he added, “How’s the painting business, and what brings you to my store in the middle of the day?”

  “We’re paintin’ the outside of the bank in Paradise,” Jacob replied. “I’ve got the crew all set up, so I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.” He glanced around the store. “Guess there’s no customers at the moment, huh?”

  “Nope, but it was sure busy this morning. Can’t hardly handle things by myself—here or at home.”

  Jacob leaned on the counter. “I’m sure some of the women in our community would help out if you weren’t too stubborn to ask.”

  Abraham put the dust rag away and sank to the wooden stool on his side of the counter. “What’s the point in askin’ when it would only be temporary? Sooner or later they’d have to stop helping and take care of their own families.”

  “I’ve told you before that you should hire a maad.”

  “I know, and I’ve been thinkin’ on it.” Abraham sighed. “Trouble is, I don’t know who’s available or who would work out good with the kinner. They can be a handful. Been worse since Naomi up and ran off.”

  “Have you heard anything from her?” Jacob asked.

  “Just a postcard, and that didn’t tell much.”

  “She never said where she and Virginia Meyers were heading or how she was doing?”

  Abraham shook his head. “Just that she was fine and didn’t want me to worry. I checked with Virginia’s folks again, and they haven’t heard a word from their daughter.”

  “At least Naomi had the decency to let you know she’s all right.”

  “Jah, but that don’t tell me if she’s ever comin’ back.”

  “Do you want her to?”

  Abraham’s defenses rose, and he clenched his teeth. “ Of course I do. Been prayin’ every day that she’ll come back and we can make amends.”

  “You’re not casting blame on her now?”

  Abraham shrugged.

  “Jesus commanded us to forgive others the same way He forgave us. Until you forgive Naomi and the man who took Zach, it will be like someone tied a stone around your neck and is pulling you down.”

  “Are you tryin’ to goad me into an argument this afternoon, Jacob Weaver?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “You keep sayin’ things that make me believe you’re against me now.”

  Jacob shook his head. “You know better than that, Abraham. You’re my gut friend, and I want you to find peace within your soul.”

  “I doubt that’ll ever happen. Not unless Naomi and Zach come home again.”

  Jacob groaned. “We’ve had this discussion before, and I thought you were gonna turn things over to God. You need to work on your faith, my friend. Allow yourself to forgive, trust the Lord to do His will in your children’s lives, and wait on Him.”

  Abraham slapped his hand down on the counter, causing several pieces of paper to fall to the floor. “That’s easy for you to say! All your kinner are safely at home. If young Leona or one of the others was snatched away, I’ll bet you’d be singin’ another tune.”

  Jacob shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe so, maybe not. I’d like to think I’d be praying every day, studyin’ God’s Word, and having the faith to believe He would bring something good out of the mess I was in.”

  Abraham massaged his forehead. He was sure the escalating pain would burst his head wide open. He knew all the things Jacob said were true, but he was tired and discouraged and couldn’t muster enough strength or faith to believe in miracles anymore.

  “I can see I’ve upset you,” Jacob said, leaning over the counter and touching Abraham’s arm.

  Abraham was about to comment when the front door opened and an Amish woman walked in. He blinked. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her.

  “Can I help ya with somethin’?” he asked.

  She smiled and nodded. “Remember me ... from the quilt shop on the outskirts of Berlin?”

  “Well, sure enough, I do remember you.” He skirted around the counter and nearly bumped into Jacob. “Never thought I’d see you again, though.”

  “My cousin, Edna Yoder, who lives near Strasburg, invited me to come for her fiftieth birthday. I just arrived in the area, but I wanted to drop by your store and see you before I headed out to Edna’s place.”

  Abraham grinned. She wanted to see him
, even before her cousin. Now that was a fine howdy-do. He turned to Jacob then. “This is Fannie Miller. I met her when I went to Ohio awhile back.”

  Jacob shook Fannie’s hand, then he cleared his throat and gave Abraham a silly-looking grin. “Well, I’d best be goin’. It was nice meeting you, Fannie.”

  “You, too.”

  He waved and hurried out the door.

  Abraham smiled at Fannie. “Would ya like a cup of cider? I have some in the back room, in the small cooler I usually bring to work.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks anyway, but I don’t have much time. My driver is waitin’ outside, but I have something I need to show you before I go.”

  “What is it?”

  Fannie pulled a newspaper out of the canvas bag she held in one hand. “Have you seen the most recent issue of The Budget?”

  “Can’t say that I have. Don’t have much time for readin’ anymore.” He frowned. “Things have really gotten bad around here since Naomi took off.”

  “Who’s Naomi?”

  “She’s my oldest daughter—the one who left Zach sittin’ on the picnic table back in June.”

  “Oh, yes, I believe you mentioned her. Just couldn’t remember the name.”

  “She overheard me prayin’ out in the barn one morning, tellin’ God I blamed her for Zach’s disappearance.” Abraham swallowed hard. Just talking about it brought back all the pain. “The worst part is, I told God I thought she may have done it on purpose.”

  “Why, Abraham? Why would Naomi have left her little brother alone on purpose?” Fannie questioned.

  “I thought she wanted to marry the buggy maker so bad she’d do most anything to get out of her responsibilities at home.” He stared at the toes of his boots, feeling too ashamed to look at Fannie. “I was only speakin’ out of anger and frustration. Didn’t mean all that, not really.”

  She patted his arm tenderly, the way his wife used to do. It felt warm and comforting, and he looked into her eyes. “Sorry for dumpin’ all my troubles on you. I know you didn’t come here for that.”

 

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