As she sat there, she saw a young man walking down the street toward the house next to Mabel’s. Late-twenties. From a distance, he did not look like he belonged in this neighborhood. Tall, well-built, short haircut, white. Someone who, from a distance, looked like he could have been an Eagle Scout at one time.
But that swagger did not come from attending scout meetings. That was street-level swagger. Cock-of-the-walk level. Alpha-male, I-own-everything-I-survey level. A gang member if she’d ever seen one.
It had been a long time since she had to use her knowledge about street gangs to assess a situation. Now, she tried to recall what she knew. This young man swaggering up the sidewalk probably wasn’t a Heartless Felon, which from what she knew tended to be primarily made up of young black men. But she’d heard there was another gang in the city gaining prominence that was white, and every bit as tough and deadly.
The young man came to a stop in front of a house that was next-door to Mabel. Before going inside, he turned around and carefully surveyed the neighborhood. She knew the instant he marked her sitting there in her Mustang because the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Unless she missed her guess, Mabel’s next-door-neighbor was one dangerous dude. No wonder Mabel had warned her not to come back.
One thing she could be absolutely certain of was that Mabel’s dangerous-looking neighbor had not stolen her car. No self-respecting gang member would be caught dead in a grandma tank like the old Buick. Not to mention that they wouldn’t have bothered to neatly lock up the garage after they’d taken it.
Her classic Mustang, however, was a very cool and memorable car. A gang member with taste might be interested. Since she would prefer not to be involved in a carjacking, she decided that, if and when she came back, she’d be driving Joe’s beat-up truck, and she would definitely be packing more than one weapon.
Chapter 20
After discovering that Mabel, the owner of the car, had no knowledge of the baby’s family, or at least professed to have no knowledge, she decided to try to make more permanent arrangements for the baby’s care.
That involved a call to social services, which she made while picking up some fast food on the outskirts of Cleveland. It took a long time for someone to answer. Apparently, they were either completely closed down for the holiday, or understaffed and overwhelmed to the point they couldn’t answer one more phone call.
If that was the case, she wouldn’t be surprised. Christmas often brought out the worst in people. So often, the holidays created a culmination of drinking, broken dreams, disappointments, and guilt—which brought on dangerous domestic situations. Too often, couples took their sadness out on one another, and sometimes their children. The stress of the holiday was more than some people seemed able to handle.
Finally, Sally, a middle-aged social worker Rachel knew from church answered and Rachel told her what had happened.
“I know Keturah and her family,” Sally said, after Rachel told her all that had happened. “Agnes fostered a couple of our high-risk babies before Clara was born. If the Hochstetler family doesn’t mind keeping her, it would be a kindness to us to leave the baby there for a while longer. I still have to work my way through several cases where the children could be in actual danger. I know the baby will be safe and well cared for with Keturah and Agnes until you can find the poor little thing’s family. I’ve really got to go now. Good luck!”
Rachel sighed as she hung up. Until they got the fingerprints of the young mother back from the lab, there was nothing else for her to go on. Even then, if the girl wasn’t in the system, they would be no closer to determining her identity than when Keturah found her.
When Rachel got back to Sugarcreek, she stopped in at the police station to give a report to Ed if he was still there.
When she walked in, she was pleasantly surprised to see Carl Bateman and his dog, Shadow, there. Ed was down on one knee praising Shadow and, from what she could see, Shadow was lapping it up. If it was possible for a dog to smile, Shadow was smiling. She saw that Kim had come in for the afternoon shift and there was an air of celebration in the office.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Carl, who was holding the dog’s leash, smiled at her. “Shadow’s done it again.”
“Done what?”
“Shadow found Ray Jones, the man with dementia who wandered away from his family’s Christmas party this morning,” Ed said. ‘The family was very relieved.”
“Oh, good dog!” Rachel dropped to her knees and buried her face in Shadow’s fur. “You are such a good dog!”
She meant it with all her heart. Shadow was an extraordinary animal, and so was the man who had trained him. Carl and Shadow had saved her life just over a year ago, at the risk of their own. In fact, Shadow had needed extensive surgery after the bullet he had taken.
“Was Ray okay?” she asked.
“Cold and extremely disoriented,” Ed said. “But he’ll be fine. His daughter was absolutely frantic with worry when I got there. Instead of going back over ground she and the rest of the family had covered, I called Carl. It took Shadow… what, fifteen minutes?”
“He does have a good nose,” Carl said, modestly, but Rachel could see the pride in his eyes. He’d put his heart and soul into training Shadow, a dog he’d found scrounging in the trash, and it had paid off not only for her but for the whole community.
“Did you and Doc Peggy have a good honeymoon trip?” Rachel asked, as she stood up. “Bertha told me about the seashells you brought back for Anna. That was kind of you. Anna’s excited about them.”
“Peggy was the one who thought of it. Gathering those shells for Anna gave us a nice reason to walk the beach.”
“Who took care of her animal clinic while you were gone?”
“Our daughter, Vicki,” Carl said. “She just graduated with her DVM last spring. She and her husband and their two sons are staying with us through Christmas. In fact, they like it here so well, they are thinking seriously about staying on. Her husband is an accountant.”
“I am so happy for you.” Rachel had not missed the pride in his voice when he called Peggy’s girl ‘our daughter.’
“Yeah, I’ve got a new saying now that Peggy and I are married.”
“What’s that?”
“Life begins at sixty-two!”
It was a sad statement, but she knew what he meant. After twenty years in prison, if anyone deserved a second chance, it was Carl.
He seemed to read her thoughts. “It’s okay, Rachel. Without those years in prison, learning how to work with those rescued dogs, I would never have met Peggy. And let me tell you something—that is a woman who was worth waiting for.”
Shadow looked up at him, expectantly, as though saying, can we go home now?
“Say goodbye to the good people, Shadow.”
At the command to say goodbye, Shadow lifted his paw and politely shook hands with each of them in turn.
“Sorry to be in a hurry,” Carl said, “but Peggy has a ham in the oven, and after supper my son-in-law and I are going to watch the game together.”
“If you don’t mind, Ed,” Kim said, “I’d like to leave, too. My family is getting together tonight at my mom’s.”
“Go ahead,” Ed said. “The other two will be coming in soon. By the way, you did a good job calming down Ray’s daughter today. I was afraid the woman was going to have a stroke, she was so worried.”
“No problem.” Kim followed Carl and Shadow out the door.
“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim made a good cop.” Rachel fell into a chair near Ed’s desk.
“And I never thought I’d see the day when I actually liked Carl,” Ed said, after Carl and Shadow left. “He’s a great example of what the prisoner and dog program can sometimes accomplish.”
“And what Bertha’s prayers and letters also accomplished,” Rachel said. “Don’t forget Bertha’s part in Carl Bateman’s redemption.”
“Of course,” Ed said. “Now,
what did you find out in Cleveland?”
“Not much,” Rachel said. “I did get Mabel to let me in but she didn’t know the girl. Didn’t know the car was missing. Always kept it locked away in a garage.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Not entirely. I think she’s lying about the car, but she seemed to be stunned by the young mother’s death and trying not to show it.”
Ed leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “What’s your assessment?”
“Mabel knows a whole lot more than she is saying. She also seemed very frightened. That’s not a normal reaction.”
“Is there any chance the girl might have been a neighbor?”
“I don’t think so. That’s a bad neighborhood. Mabel had to unlock about a dozen locks to let me in. Very suspicious lady. I can’t see her getting cozy with anyone.”
“Okay, then.” Ed nodded. “Let’s check and see if any of Mabel’s family members are the same age and gender as our Jane Doe.”
“Good idea, even though she swears there isn’t.”
“How is the baby doing?”
“She’s fine for now. Keturah and her daughter-in-law are taking excellent care of her and, of course, Doc Mike is next door. I get the feeling he’s over at the Hochstetler’s a lot.”
“He grew up next door. They’ve always treated him like a son.”
“I talked to Sally at social services. She said that she’s fine with them continuing to care for the baby for now. Agnes used to take in foster children. The only thing I see wrong about leaving the baby with them is that little Clara is getting awfully attached—quite the little mother. If the baby stays with them much longer, I think it’s going to be hard on both her and Agnes to let go.”
“No doubt, but you can’t help that and neither can I. Now go on home and get some sleep. You’ve done enough for one day.”
Rachel did go home. When she got there, she was relieved that Joe, Darren, and Bobby had left a note that they had gone to the movies. No Chinese checkers tonight. Instead, she went into her bedroom and, fully clothed, she fell face down on her bed, and did not move or awaken until daybreak.
Chapter 21
December 26
A new birth usually left Keturah tired but happy the next day. Exuberant if the birth had gone well—and most went well. It was a joyous life she lived most of the time.
Who wouldn’t love a life that involved helping ease new babies into the world? Getting to hold the precious newborn, cuddle, it, love it, admire the new little miracle along with the new mother and father. If the mother had not already had multiple births and was, therefore, not well-educated in the process of having babies, Keturah would give her advice about all the things involving the nurturing of new life.
Of course, being a midwife to the Amish meant that she was seldom the only other woman present with the new mother. There was almost always grandmothers and aunts and sisters present to help. Together, they would discuss the benefits of catnip tea versus stinging nettle tea or a myriad of other tinctures and herbs the Amish culture had depended on for generations.
Her people went to doctors, but only after every home remedy they knew or heard of was exhausted. Part of it was frugality. With no insurance, the cost of a doctor came directly out of their pocket. Part of it was a natural distrust of all things not Amish or Mennonite.
There had been a wonderful Mennonite doctor in their midst for a while, but he had retired. It had been such a comfort to talk with a doctor who spoke their language. It was tiresome to try to translate certain symptoms into English when one was ill.
Keturah had no more mothers close to birthing for the next couple weeks, and she was okay with that. The ordeal she had experienced had taken a toll on her body and mind, and she was grateful for the respite.
“Have you heard anything from the policewoman today?” Agnes asked.
“No.” Keturah was trying to rock little Rosie to sleep. “I know she is trying to find the baby’s family. I think she must have not found them yet.”
“It feels very strange,” Agnes said. “To have a beautiful new baby and no family. Not even a family name.”
“I agree,” Keturah said.
Among her Amish friends, information about a motherless child would be all through the various families and churches. They would know where the baby was, who was caring for it, and how it was faring.
But in the Englisch world… silence. There should be a family celebrating the birth of this child today instead of it being cared for by strangers. Hadn’t anyone noticed that a pregnant daughter, or sister, or niece was missing?
She had a lot of things worrying her right now. Ivan had shared with her the fact that Noah had apparently begun walking out with Beth, the Yoder girl, who everyone had doubts about remaining Amish. That was a huge worry.
Having Michael living next door again was a wonderful thing, but where was that Englisch wife of his? Something was very wrong there. Michael had chosen not to confide in her, and that was as it should be. A man should be loyal to his wife and not say bad things about her even to his family, but really! What young woman in her right mind would not want to be with Michael? Why did she not quit her lawyer job and move here to be with her husband?
Keturah knew very little about the law, but she knew a great deal about the care and nurturing of a marriage. It was not wise for a man or a woman to choose their work over their mate. Keturah clucked her tongue. She did not understand Englisch people. What could be more important than one’s vow to God to stay together until death? It was a puzzle—but then, so much of the Englisch world’s choices puzzled her.
Michael had walked around like a lost soul yesterday, dark circles beneath his eyes, trying hard not to show that his heart was broken. The entire family noticed and remarked quietly about it to her. They all loved Michael and were worried about him. She was a gentle person, but she wished she could have a good hard talk with Michael’s wife.
Chapter 22
Michael needed to talk to someone. Someone who would care. Someone besides himself venting to the mirror as he shaved. Someone with good sense and sound advice.
Ivan and Noah ran one of the smaller dairy herds in the Holmes County area, but it provided a modest living for them. The Hochstetlers kept expenses down by growing and harvesting their own hay and corn for the cows, and the animals were exceptionally well-cared for and healthy.
It was five o’clock in the morning and still quite dark, but he knew right where to go. Grabbing his barn coat and shoving his feet into boots that had seen their share of cow manure, he walked through the snow and across the pasture that lay between his house and the Hochstetler property.
When he entered their barn, a feeling of peace descended upon him. His wife had once dabbled with aromatherapy. She came home with essence of lavender and said it was supposed to calm her nerves. Whether it did or didn’t, he had no idea. What he did know was that the familiar smell of an old barn had an instantaneous calming effect on him. It always had.
Ivan was milking a cow while she calmly chewed her cud as Michael walked in.
“Good morning, Ivan. Could you use some help?”
“Pull up a stool.” Ivan nodded at the cow next to the one he was milking. She was standing patiently, ready for her full-to bursting udder to be stripped. Noah was further down the line. He raised his hand in greeting, then leaned his head against the side of a lovely Guernsey cow and continued to milk.
Michael grabbed a galvanized bucket Ivan had placed, sterilized and ready to be filled on a nearby worktable. He positioned it beneath the cow, seated himself on an extra three-legged stool, and began the process. The wholesome smell of the healthy cow as he leaned his head into her warm flank and the rhythmic sound of strong streams of milk ringing against the sides of the bucket were a balm to his soul in this early-morning darkness.
Some Amish farmers had purchased milking machines, but Ivan had not yet chosen to do so. Michael had tried t
o talk him into it, but Ivan was slow to make changes. At this moment, Michael was grateful that he had resisted. Now, the action gave his hands something to do, and a reason not to look at his old friend as he shared with him the sore spot in his heart.
“Cassie wants a divorce.”
He could not see Ivan, but he heard the sound of jets of milk hitting the side of the bucket cease while Ivan absorbed this information. Then the rhythmic sound started up again. It took a few moments for Ivan to respond.
“And do you want this divorce as well?”
“It’s ripping my heart out.”
“Have you told her this?”
“No.”
“Then that’s the first step,” Ivan said. “You must tell her.”
“Talking to Cassie doesn’t help once she’s made up her mind to do something.”
“Then, perhaps you should find a way to un-make her mind.”
Michael pondered this. The only thing he could imagine helping resolve this impasse was for him to apologize, abandon his dream of being a small-town vet, and live the rest of his life exactly the way Cassie told him to.
“I don’t think she’ll listen,” Michael said.
“You have been apart for a long time,” Ivan’s voice was concerned. “That is not good for a husband and wife. Perhaps she should come here for a while so that you can work things out.”
“Cassie won’t be coming here,” Michael said. “I can guarantee that. The only possibility of her taking me back is if I agree to move back to the city with her.”
The sound of milk ceased again. He knew that Ivan did not like hearing about that possibility.
“But this is your home.” The sound of milk ringing against the side of the bucket began again.
“She has a very important job. She’s worked hard for it and she refuses to leave.”
Ivan digested this information. “You have a wife who is unwilling to follow your leadership?”
Love Rekindled: Book 3 Page 10