The Hope

by Patricia Davids

  Ruth’s heart went out to her. “Oh, Grace, what’s wrong?”

  The child looked up. “Owen left me.”

  Surely not. Ruth glanced toward the living room and saw Owen’s cot neatly made up. She was annoyed that he had decided to leave the child with her without a word but more than that, she was disappointed. He had sounded so sincere when he said he was here to help, but her feelings weren’t the issue. Grace needed comforting.

  Ruth eased herself down to sit on the bottom step so she was close to the child’s level. “I’m sorry Owen has gone.”

  “He promised to stay with me.” Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

  The urge to pick the child up and hug her was overwhelming but Ruth didn’t think Grace was ready for that. She looked about to bolt. “Don’t cry, Grace. I think we will both be happier without that old Owen underfoot. I’ll take care of you until we find your family. Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?”

  Grace shook her head. “I want my mamm. I want Owen. I want Meeka.”

  Ruth hadn’t noticed that the big dog was missing, too. She heard footsteps behind her and looked up to see Ella coming down. “What’s going on?” Ella asked.

  “Grace is upset because Owen isn’t here. I’m trying to convince her to eat some breakfast with us.”

  “Where is Owen?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t think I care.” Ruth levered herself to her feet and tried to pretend she spoke the truth. “He rarely tells anyone where he’s going when he pulls one of his disappearing acts.”

  “He wouldn’t take off without a word. Aren’t you being hard on him?”

  Ruth shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think so. He is the way he is.”

  Ella walked around her mother and held out her arms to Grace. The child scooted backward until she was against the wall. “Go away. I want Owen. I want my mamm.”

  “No one is going to hurt you,” Ella assured her.

  Grace buried her face in the quilt she held. Ella stepped back.

  Ruth shook her head sadly. “I don’t understand why she is so attached to Owen. She only met him last night.”

  “She was lost and frightened. He rescued her. I’m not surprised she sees him as her hero.” Ella held out her hand to the child. “I’m sure Owen will be back soon. Why don’t you come have some breakfast while you wait for him?”

  Grace got to her feet but ran back into the living room and huddled under her quilt in the corner of the sofa.

  Ruth frowned at Ella. “You shouldn’t tell her that Owen will be back when you have no idea where he is. Check with Faron to see if Owen spoke to him.”

  Ella hurried up the stairs and returned a short time later. “Faron hasn’t seen Owen this morning.”

  “Of course not. I don’t know what Ernest was thinking when he asked Owen to stay and take care of things while he was gone.” Ruth headed to the kitchen intent on making coffee.

  “I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical reason he isn’t here.” Ella intercepted Ruth and pulled out a kitchen chair. “Sit and put your leg up.”

  “I’m fine.” She tried to go around her daughter.

  Ella moved to block her way. “You can sit and put your leg up, or I will call Zack and Faron to come down and carry you back to your bedroom.”

  “All this fuss over a sprained knee. It’s nothing.”

  “I heard Granny tell you not to walk on it if it hurts. I can see by your limping that it does hurt.”

  “All right. Fetch me a pillow and I will put it up on another chair. Satisfied?”

  Ella grinned. “I think this must be the first argument with you that I have won.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still your mother.”

  Ella chuckled as she went into the living room and returned with a pillow. She positioned it on another chair and carefully propped Ruth’s leg up. “How is that?”

  It did feel better. “This will do for a while but there is much work to be done. I can’t sit around all day.”

  “You have two willing children and a new son-in-law who can take over any chores for the next two days.”

  Ruth’s mood soured. “Apparently Faron doesn’t want to do farm chores anymore.”

  Ella gave her a disgusted look. “That isn’t true, and you know it.”

  “It’s all Owen’s fault. He has filled Faron’s head with nothing but foolish tales of travel and adventure since the boy was old enough to sit on his knee.”

  “We all enjoyed Owen’s stories. You can’t blame Faron’s wanting to experience life outside Cedar Grove on Owen’s influence alone. I talked about how much fun I’d had in Jamesport when I stayed with Grossmammi and Grossdaadi. Maybe it’s my fault.”

  Ruth chose to save her breath. It seemed Ella didn’t want to hear anything bad about Owen. Ella picked up the coffeepot along with a piece of paper on the counter.

  The outside door opened letting a blast of cold air into the room. Ruth looked over her shoulder. Owen stepped inside, closed the door and pulled off his hat. “It isn’t snowing but it sure is cold.” He grinned widely as he hung his hat on a peg beside the doorway and slipped out of his coat. “Good morning, Ruth. Good morning, Ella.”

  “Where have you been?” Ruth demanded.

  His smile faded. “Doing the chores at Ernest’s farm. Didn’t you see my note?”

  “I was too busy trying to console Grace.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

  A frown creased his brow. “I’m sorry. I was hoping she’d stay asleep until I got back.”

  “Well, she didn’t.”

  “Where is she?”

  Ruth jerked her head toward the living room. He walked out of the kitchen.

  “There is a note.” Ella waved it toward Ruth. “I think you owe him an apology.”

  Ruth huffed but stayed quiet. Owen hadn’t bolted this time but that didn’t mean he was going to remain and help through the entire lambing season. She needed Faron to stay home.

  “Admit it, Mamm. You were wrong this time.”

  After a brief internal struggle, Ruth had to accept that Ella was right. She did owe him an apology. Her intention to be kind to Owen had flown out the door at the first opportunity. “I will ask Owen’s forgiveness and show more charity toward him.”

  By leaning to one side, Ruth could see the sofa through the archway into the living room.

  Owen sat down on the couch. The little girl remained huddled under the quilt. “Hello, Grace. Did you miss me?”

  At the sound of his voice, Grace pulled the blanket off her head. “You didn’t leave me.” She scrambled up and threw her arms around his neck.

  He patted her back. “Of course I didn’t. I went outside to feed the animals and hurried back as quick as I could. I’m sorry you were scared.”

  She drew back and cupped his face between her hands. “You need to be under my foot.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Okay.”

  “I’m hungry now.”

  “I have the cure for a hungry girl,” Ella announced. “How do pancakes sound?”

  Grace leaned close to Owen’s ear and whispered something. He laughed. “Nee, I’ll have my breakfast with you, but Meeka is not going to have pancakes with us. She’s outside doing her job taking care of the sheep.”

  He lifted Grace in his arms and strolled into the kitchen. Ruth sat upright, moved her leg off the pillow and stood up. “I’ll scramble some eggs and make toast.”

  Owen took a seat at the table and settled Grace onto the chair beside him. “Should you be up walking on that knee?”

  Ella gave an exasperated sigh. “I got her to sit down for a few minutes. I may have to tie her to a chair for the rest of the day.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” Ruth said between clenched teeth.

>   Owen seemed to take the hint and changed the subject. “It’s too cold to take the tractor over to the bishop’s place this morning. Grace and I will take your buggy if you don’t mind, Ruth. It will be warmer. Do you have some bricks you can heat up to keep our feet warm?”

  “Of course. What time are we going to leave?”

  “I thought I’d go about nine o’clock, but there’s no need for you to come with us.”

  “I’m as interested in finding out where Grace belongs as you are. There is also something I wish to discuss with the bishop.”

  Owen quirked an eyebrow. “Faron’s plans?”

  “I hope the bishop can convince Faron to remain at home.”

  “I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. It’s your buggy, so if you wish to ride along it’s okay with me. What about you, Grace? Is it okay if Ruth comes along with us?”

  Grace seemed to think it over for a moment, then she said, “Okay, but don’t get under her foot. She doesn’t like that.”

  Ruth saw comprehension dawn on his face. He chuckled as he stared at her. “Ruth doesn’t like having me underfoot, is that what she said?”

  Grace paused as she considered his question. “She said we would be happier if you weren’t underfoot, but I wouldn’t be happy.”

  As his intense gaze remained focused on her, Ruth felt the heat rising in her cheeks and knew she was blushing. “You can’t fault me for being honest.”

  He assumed a look of complete innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Maybe not but I know what you were thinking.”

  “She’s a mind reader,” Owen whispered to Grace.

  Grace tipped her head to one side. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she is always right because she believes she knows what other people are thinking.”

  Looking impressed, Grace closed her eyes. “What am I thinking now?”

  Ruth glared at Owen. “You’re thinking that Owen should stop poking fun at me.”

  Grace cupped her hand by Owen’s ear. “That’s not right.”

  His eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. “We know she can be wrong, but you will never ever get her to admit it.”

  Footsteps coming down the stairs announced the arrival of Faron and Zack. The two men came into the kitchen and took seats at the table. Faron took his place at the head of the table. Zack took a seat beside Owen.

  Faron frowned at Ruth. “You should be resting that knee. Ella can manage breakfast for us all.”

  Exasperated Ruth planted her hands on her hips. “Will everyone quit fussing at me about my knee?”

  Grace leaned close to Owen again with a worried look on her face. “I think she’s mad at us.”

  He patted her head. “She isn’t mad at you.”

  Grace cupped her hand close to his ear. “Are you sure? She looks mad.” Everyone heard her loud whisper. Zack and Faron choked back their laughter.

  Ruth reined in her annoyance and smiled at the little girl. “I’m not angry with you, Grace.”

  “Does that mean you’re mad at Owen?” Grace asked.

  Ruth kept a smile on her face with difficulty. “I’m not angry with anyone, but I do wish everyone would stop pestering me about my knee.”

  Grace tipped her head to the side. “Does it hurt? What happened?”

  “It only hurts a little. I fell out of our sleigh yesterday.” She didn’t think the child needed to know the circumstances.

  Grace shook her finger at Ruth. “You should be more careful. That’s what my mamm always says.” Her face grew sad. “I miss her. Owen, can we go find her?”

  “As soon as we finish our breakfast, we will do just that.” He glanced at Ruth, and she nodded.

  She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. He was praying his words would prove true.

  * * *

  OWEN DROVE RUTH’S horse and buggy down the county road toward the bishop’s farm. The road was rough and filled with snow-covered ruts. Grace sat securely between Ruth and Owen, but he was concerned about the jolting Ruth was receiving on her injured leg. She remained quiet with her jaw tightly clenched. Was it because she was in pain or unhappy because she didn’t like his company? Either way the ride was made in strained silence. Snow began to fall again in large fat flakes that drifted down gently.

  Owen stopped the horse in front of the bishop’s house. He lifted Grace out of the buggy and then went around to help Ruth down. She was trying to lower herself carefully when he intervened by grasping her waist and lifting her easily to the ground. Her hands grabbed his shoulders. A bolt of awareness shot through him as he looked into her eyes.

  She was a remarkable woman. Tough and capable but still soft and feminine. His hands lingered at her waist until he noticed her frown of displeasure. He stepped away as he tried to pretend helping her out of the buggy was simply a common courtesy, but his racing pulse was anything but normal. He forcefully reminded himself that he had returned to make amends for his past behavior. Any attraction he felt toward Ruth was strictly off-limits. He needed to keep those emotions bottled up for the next month.

  The bishop came out of the house. “Good morning. We weren’t expecting visitors today. Owen, Ruth, is something amiss?” His mother, Martha, came out to stand beside him.

  Grace, who had been hiding behind Owen, peeked at them.

  Owen stepped to one side. “I found this young girl on Ernest’s porch when I returned home after the skating party. Her name is Grace, but she hasn’t been able to tell us who she belongs to or who she is visiting in the community. We’re hoping you can help us locate her family.”

  “We know they must be frantic,” Ruth added.

  The bishop stroked his gray beard with one hand as he studied Grace. She stepped behind Owen again. “I don’t recognize her. Mudder, do you know who this child belongs to?”

  Granny Weaver shook her head. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  “We are at a loss,” Ruth said. “We checked with all the families near our farm and no one is missing a child.”

  “Most extraordinary.” The bishop gestured toward the door. “Won’t you come in out of the cold and sit down while we puzzle this out? You would think there would be a loud hue and cry over a child that is gone missing.”

  “That is exactly what we thought,” Owen said as he stepped inside the bishop’s home. The kitchen was large and airy with pale wood cabinets, spotless blue-and-white linoleum on the floor and plain white paint on the walls. Dual propane gas lamps with light blue shades hung over the oak table in the center of the room. The scent of pine cleaner lingered in the air.

  Grace kept her face hidden against Owen’s leg even when they were inside. He laid a hand on her head. “The weather was so bad last night that I’m sure she couldn’t have walked far.”

  “Won’t you sit down?” Granny said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  Owen and Ruth both shook their heads. “We just finished breakfast,” Ruth added as she sat down.

  The bishop took a seat and leaned forward in his chair to address Grace. “Can you tell me where you come from?” She didn’t say anything.

  Owen added what he knew. “I was able to learn that her name is Grace and that her mother was sleeping. That’s all I know about her. She told me she came from outside.”

  Granny Weaver smiled at Grace. “I have some snickerdoodle cookies in the kitchen. Would you like one?”

  Grace looked up at Owen. He nodded. “It’s okay. You can have one.”

  “Have a seat at the table,” Granny said as she crossed the kitchen and lifted the top from a cookie jar on the counter.

  She placed two cookies on a plate and set the plate on the table. Grace climbed onto a chair beside Owen and bit into a cookie. She gave Granny a bright smile. “These are goot.”


  “If you have checked all the nearby farms, I think the best thing to do is to notify the Englisch sheriff,” the bishop said. “I’ll go make the call. I think you should wait here, if that is agreeable.”

  Ruth nodded. “We’ll wait. Hopefully Sheriff McIntyre can provide us with the answers we need.”

  Bishop Weaver rose from the table, put on his hat and coat, and went outside. Owen knew the small white shack that served as one of the Amish community phone buildings sat a quarter mile down the road.

  Owen got up and walked to the window. It was snowing heavily now. He considered what the involvement of an outsider would mean. If the sheriff knew who Grace belonged with that would be wonderful. Owen could keep his promise to Grace and see that she was returned to her family. If the sheriff didn’t know where she belonged, would he take Grace away, or would he leave her with Owen even though they weren’t related? Owen had no way of knowing. Englisch and Amish ways sometimes ran contrary to each other.

  He glanced back to see Ruth watching him. “Do you know the sheriff well?”

  “Marty? I do. He was the police officer in Garnett who arrested one of our neighbors, Joshua King, last spring. It turned out to be a mistake. Marty later went out of his way to make sure people knew Joshua was innocent. He and Joshua became friends after that. Marty ran for sheriff last fall at Joshua’s urging and won.”

  “He’s considerate of our ways,” Granny added.

  Owen was relieved to hear that. Grace finished her cookies and came to stand beside him. She tugged on his pant leg. “Can we go find my mamm now?”

  He sank to his heels and brushed a few cookie crumbs from her chin. “We are going to need some help to find her. The bishop has gone to get more people to help us look. We have to wait until they get here.”

  Granny went to a cabinet and pulled out a large box. “Grace, do you like to play with puzzles?”

  Grace nodded. Granny smiled at her. “Why don’t you show Ruth how to put a puzzle together while I make us some hot chocolate?”