The Amish Nanny

by Mindy Starns Clark

  Eyes twinkling, he replied that Abraham had been the youngest in a large family. “The parents both died and the older children raised him. But then they split on religion when the oldest brother joined the Mennonites. He was very vocal about his beliefs and tried to get the others to join as well, but most of them stayed with the Reformed Church instead, including the brother who ran the bakery.”

  “This bakery?” I asked.

  “Yes,” the younger man replied. “It has been in the family for three centuries.”

  Behind me I could hear Morgan sigh. Three centuries of my family history was right here, under our feet and all around us. Incredible.

  “Eventually the authorities grew suspicious of the oldest brother, thinking he was probably meeting with other Mennonites in secret. Once they had proof of it, they arrested him and took him to Thun and put him in the castle.”

  So another of my ancestors had spent time in the dungeon too.

  “Then soon after that, young Abraham went into the military. Sadly, when his time was finished, he chose not to come back home at all but instead made a life for himself elsewhere.”

  “Why did he do that?” Morgan asked.

  The old man shrugged his shoulders. “No one ever knew. It does seem odd, does it not? A young man completing his military service, and then simply staying away for the rest of his life?” He shrugged again. “It is a mystery. My guess was that he had been so heartbroken at the imprisonment of his oldest brother that he could not bear to live here without him. They were both artists—young Abraham showing talent as a carver, and his oldest brother already an accomplished weaver—so perhaps they shared a special bond. Whatever his reasons, Abraham never returned. As the story goes, when the family realized he was not ever coming back, they hung this old carving he had done right here in the bakery, and here it has hung ever since.”

  “Wow,” Morgan whispered, echoing my thoughts exactly.

  “Do you know where Abraham went when he left?” Daniel asked.

  “No idea at all. Though, now that I have met you,” Herr Sommers said, gesturing toward me, “I have to wonder if maybe he emigrated to America. Do you know if that was the case?”

  We shook our heads, explaining that Abraham had ended up living near Langnau. His daughter, Elsbeth, had been the one to emigrate to the U.S., continuing the family line that eventually led down to me.

  “I see,” the man said, nodding. “Well, whatever the reason for Abraham’s turning his back on Frutigen, all I know is that the other siblings were devastated when their family broke apart at each end—the oldest brother carted off to the dungeons, the youngest disappearing to who knows where. Even several generations later, my aunts and uncles were still mindful of that sad, sad story.”

  “Thank you for sharing it with us,” I said earnestly.

  The man reached out his hand to me and I took it. “You are welcome. It is nice to meet you, cousin,” he said. From the smile slowly spreading across his face, I could tell he was enjoying this as much as we were. I had a feeling he was also getting a kick out of having an Amish woman as a relative. Little did he know how many more there were of us back home.

  Morgan asked the man if she could take his photo. He said only if I were in it too. I agreed but turned my head to the side just before she pressed the button.

  We thanked Christian Sommers and his son-in-law profusely and then hurried back through the streets of Frutigen. The sun was low, and a cold wind blew through the valley. Clouds scudded across the mountain peaks, covering them up as we walked. By the time we reached the car, my face and hands were icy cold.

  We had an hour’s drive or more before getting back to Langnau, and I started to feel anxious about being away from Christy for so long. I hoped she’d been a help to Will today.

  “Isn’t it interesting,” Morgan said, “that one of the brothers was a weaver?”

  “It was pretty common back then,” Daniel said. “I came across information in my research. The farmers could grow flax in the summer and then process it and weave it during the winter. That is, until the textile mills opened in Bern in the mid–eighteen hundreds. That put an end to the bulk of the weavers’ trade.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Morgan said. “I meant because Giselle weaves.”

  “Lots of Amish and Mennonite people work with fabric. It’s an acceptable art form for Plain people.” Daniel always had an answer.

  Morgan shook her head. “I still think it’s interesting.”

  Alice was sitting up in bed and appearing to feel much better when we arrived back at the hospital. She had a little bit of color in her face and her forget-me-not blue eyes were brighter than they had been in days. George was there too, keeping her company while Will and Christy were having dinner.

  “The doctor said we can definitely fly home soon, maybe even by the day after tomorrow,” Alice said.

  “Depends on what’s available,” George added. “I told Will I’d help him book the flights when you’re ready to go.”

  The day after tomorrow? I tried to look pleased for Alice’s sake, but I wasn’t, not at all. There was still so much I wanted to do here. Find the missing agreement. Hear the judge’s final ruling. Explore the waterfall. See more of Switzerland. Make up my mind about Daniel.

  If I really did decide to be courted by Daniel, I would also need to talk to Giselle about living with her when I returned. In fact, I realized, that was one conversation that should happen sooner than later. Depending on her answer, the big plan he had proposed might not even be possible.

  After glancing at Daniel, I asked Alice if she knew where I might find Giselle.

  “I’m sorry, dear, but I haven’t seen her all day,” Alice replied. George added that he hadn’t either.

  “She’s probably been in her studio, working on that new piece,” Morgan suggested.

  That sounded likely to me, and suddenly I was eager to get going. Before I could decide about a future with Daniel, I needed to know if the basics of such an arrangement could even work.

  We were just leaving when Will and Christy returned from dinner. Will wanted to stay longer, but Christy was looking pretty tired, so I suggested she ride to Amielbach with us.

  “Thanks, Ada,” Will said with a grateful smile, looking pretty tired himself.

  George said he would stay until Will was ready to return to the inn, so Daniel, Morgan, Christy, and I headed toward the car, with Christy and Morgan leading the way. When we reached the parking lot, I slowed my pace a bit until the two of them were out of earshot. Then, turning to Daniel, I lowered my voice and told him I needed a favor.

  “From me?”

  “Yes. When we get to the cottage, I’m going to talk to Giselle about coming back to live with her. I want to have that conversation in private, so I’m wondering if you would mind keeping Christy occupied for a while. Maybe you and Morgan can talk her into playing a board game or something.”

  “Oh! Absolutely!” Daniel replied, his face lighting up in such a broad smile that I realized he had misunderstood. He thought I had already made my decision, and that my conversation with Giselle was after the fact. I came to a stop there in the middle of the parking lot and, after a beat, he did too.

  “Don’t get the wrong impression,” I said gently. “I haven’t yet decided about us courting. I’m just exploring the possibility for now.”

  “I see,” he replied, his smile fading a bit. “Well, if you do, and if Giselle says you can live with her, then you should just stay and not go back to Pennsylvania with the others at all.”

  I gaped at him for a moment. “I would still have to go back home first, regardless.”

  “Why?” he asked, sounding like a petulant child.

  “I can’t bow out of my commitment to take care of Christy, not to mention that I would never be so disrespectful to my parents.” Suddenly, I was feeling kind of petulant myself—and more than a little defensive. “Don’t forget, Daniel, that I have a whole life back there
. Affairs I would need to settle. Possessions I would have to pack. Friends and relatives who deserve a goodbye from me in person. If I’m really moving to Europe, there’s a lot I have to do first.”

  “Seriously?” he asked. “The way I see it, you have no job and no boyfriend. You haven’t joined your church. What’s to miss? You should just stay.”

  I stared at him, incredulous. His words may have contained some truth—okay, maybe they even closely echoed words I had said to myself recently—but in that moment I realized how wrong he was. How wrong I had been.

  In the distance I could hear the sound of car doors opening and then closing, and I hoped Morgan was adequately distracting Christy from our discussion out here. Breathing in deeply, I asked myself why I was having so much trouble accepting the one thing I’d thought I had wanted most, an exciting future with a man who said he cared for me. Then again, if he really did care, wouldn’t he know that what I needed right now was patience, not pressure?

  “Listen, Ada,” he said finally, stepping closer and taking my hand. “You do what you think you need to do. I’ll try to back off a little, but I can’t wait around for your answer forever. Make up your mind soon, okay?”

  I closed my eyes, wishing that the touch of his hand made me shiver the way Will’s did.

  “I’ll try,” I whispered, opening my eyes and giving Daniel a reassuring smile.

  Then I let go of his hand, turned, and walked the rest of the way to the car, wondering if I could ever learn love anyone other than Will Gundy.

  When we reached Amielbach, the others stayed up at the main house to look for a game while I headed down to the cottage to talk to Giselle. I went straight to her studio, but she wasn’t there. In fact, she wasn’t anywhere.

  Looking around at the whole cottage, I could find no signs that Giselle had been there today at all. No dirty dishes. No books left out. Nothing out of order anywhere. Her car was still exactly where it had been this morning. Yet her heavy coat was missing from the rack by the door.

  Where is she?

  Sometimes God impresses us, puts a feeling in our gut to let us know something is wrong. That’s how it was for Aunt Marta when she rescued Lexie from the creek all those years ago. That’s how I felt right now. Somehow I just knew that Giselle was in trouble, and it was up to me to help her.

  Heart pounding, I left the cottage and ran all the way up the main house. When I got there, I tried to explain that Giselle was missing, but the others didn’t seem nearly as alarmed.

  “She came by here this morning,” Oskar said, shrugging. “She talked to Father for a few minutes and then left, saying she needed some fresh air.”

  That didn’t help much. She could be anywhere. And maybe she’d been gone all day, or maybe not. She could have come back to the cottage and then gone out again.

  “Father’s in his study. He might have an idea of where she went.”

  Daniel led the way down the hall, with Christy right behind him. He knocked rapidly and a faint voice welcomed us in.

  Herr Lauten was at his desk, but he looked as if he’d been sleeping.

  I stepped forward and asked him about Giselle.

  He shifted in his chair a little. “Yes, she did stop by this morning. And she was upset. I told her Amielbach was about to change forever. That seemed to upset her even more. Then…” He took a deep breath. “Well, I said something I shouldn’t have. I told her if she’d kept track of that box, we’d be in better shape.” He stopped.

  “And?” I stepped closer to the desk.

  “She said back then the box was the least of her worries.” He gripped his cane with both hands. “I’m afraid I hurt her—even though I have no idea what she was referring to.”

  “She was referring to me.” I turned to face Daniel. “And my sister, Lexie. Giselle is our birth mother,” I said, looking back at Herr Lauten. “She gave us up and moved to Switzerland. Lexie was adopted by a couple from Oregon, and I was adopted by my Aunt Klara, Giselle’s sister, who became my mother.”

  A wave of shock passed over Daniel’s face, and Herr Lauten turned a sickening gray. “Poor Giselle,” he said, standing. “I had no idea. She wouldn’t bring harm to herself, would she?” He looked at me and then at Daniel and then at Morgan. I looked at Christy, wondering if she realized what Herr Lauten was alluding to.

  But the truth was, none of us really knew what Giselle might do. “Let’s get flashlights and go look for her,” I said, whispering up a prayer, apprehension gnawing at my gut.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  As it turned out, Daniel didn’t think we should go look for Giselle at all, at least not until the next day. “She’s a middle-aged woman. She’s probably at a friend’s house.”

  “Don’t you think we should at least call the police?”

  “And tell them what? There’s nothing suspicious about her disappearance. If she doesn’t show up in a couple of days, then they would get involved…” His voice faded away.

  I turned toward Morgan. “He’s right,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  Oskar was already back in the kitchen, and Herr Lauten was shuffling down the hall to his study.

  Christy said she was tired, and so she, Morgan, and I decided to head down to the cottage. I was miffed at Daniel for not wanting to help find Giselle and quickly told him goodnight.

  As we walked down the steps of Amielbach, I said, “I can’t imagine her staying out in the cold like this.”

  “Who says she’s in the cold? Maybe she has a boyfriend we don’t know about,” Morgan said. “Or maybe she barhops.”

  I couldn’t imagine either.

  A half hour later, Morgan and I were in the kitchen when we heard a knock at the door of the cottage. I ran to it and swung it open in relief, expecting Giselle. But it wasn’t her—it was Will.

  “Hey, Ada,” he said, a little out of breath. “George and I just got back. Oskar told us what was going on. You’re concerned for Giselle’s safety?”

  I nodded, hating how much better I felt just knowing he was here. I invited him in, but he shook his head, remaining there on the porch.

  “We know Giselle struggles with depression,” I explained to him from the doorway, keeping my voice low. “What if my coming to see her has made that worse?”

  He couldn’t answer the question, but at least he didn’t try to soothe me with empty reassurances. Instead, he simply promised to pray for her—and for me.

  “You must think my family is such a mess…” I said, my face growing hot. I couldn’t imagine what he thought about me or my past or my parentage.

  He didn’t reply for a long moment, and when he did, his words surprised me.

  “To tell you the truth, Ada, I’ve been thinking a lot about Giselle and what she went through way back then,” he said, his voice soft. He cleared his throat, shoved a hand in his pocket, and smoothed the brim of his hat. “Actually, do you have a minute?”

  “Sure,” I said, pulse surging. I glanced toward the kitchen, where Morgan was busily making tea, and then I stepped out onto the stoop and pulled the door closed behind me. Will and I took a few steps up the brick pathway and then stood facing each other. His brown eyes were tired but kind.

  “Of course, when all that happened I was just a boy and had no idea what was really going on,” he continued. “Though I knew my mammi was very concerned for Giselle, I didn’t know the full story about all of that until recently.”

  I nodded, embarrassed but in a way also relieved that it was now out in the open between us. I’d already suspected he knew, but now that had been confirmed.

  “Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say that your family is not alone in these problems.”

  I knew that. “I appreciate it, Will. All of your family has been so supportive of us through the years—”

  He shook his head, his beard swaying a little with the movement. “That’s not what I’m saying. My family has gone through a…similar problem.”

  The way he said it, I knew
he meant a child had been conceived out of wedlock. I tilted my head. His family? The Gundys? Surely not his sister, Hannah.

  “All families have their problems,” Will said. “Jesus said in this life we will have troubles. No one is immune.” He met my eyes.

  Maybe he sensed my confusion. He exhaled and then said, “I can’t give you the entire story because, as with most stories, it involves others, but it was Lydia. While we were courting but before we married.”

  Lydia? I never would have guessed.

  “She had a baby out of wedlock too, a baby who wasn’t mine.” His voice was heavy with sadness. “And even though she moved forward with her life, her grief over that never left her. I see that same emptiness in Giselle. But even though it’s hard, I think knowing you will help her in the long run.”

  I asked what happened to Lydia’s baby.

  “The father was married, and Lydia allowed the child to go to him and his wife.”

  “The wife knew?” I couldn’t imagine.

  He nodded. “She’s a very good woman. A strong Christian. She didn’t take out the sins of her husband on the babe. They’re divorced now, and she has full custody.”

  So not only had Will’s family dealt with a child conceived out of wedlock, but giving up that child for adoption as well! And to think I’d thought he came from the perfect family without anything worse than a little white lie or some such thing.

  “Who knows about this?” I managed to stammer.

  He shook his head a little as if trying to decide to answer or not. Finally he said, “Your Aunt Marta knows. And your sister. But, Ada, that’s all I can say on this—for now. The main point is I know how Lydia suffered from the loss, and I know Giselle must suffer too.”

  I tried to soak in the information without growing too curious. I focused on my own story. “Perhaps she feels that loss with Lexie,” I said, “but I don’t think she does with me.”

  Will’s expression was kind. “She had more time with Lexie. That’s all. It has nothing to do with who you are.”

  I looked up into his compassionate brown eyes for just a minute and then quickly glanced away, overcome by the cold.