The Hope

by Patricia Davids

  Grace gave Ruth a funny look but climbed up onto a chair beside her at the kitchen table. Granny laid out the pieces of a wooden puzzle in the shape of Noah’s Ark and then looked at Owen. “Would you like some coffee now?”

  “I believe I would.” He sat down beside Grace and listened to her explain to Ruth how to match up the puzzle pieces. Ruth dutifully obeyed her instructions and soon had all the animals arranged inside the ark.

  The bishop returned twenty minutes later. His hat and coat were covered in snow. “The sheriff will be here in a few minutes. He hasn’t had a report of a lost child. He’s having his office contact some of the neighboring towns.”

  They didn’t have long to wait before the sheriff arrived in a black SUV with gold lettering along the side. Marty McIntyre was younger than Owen expected him to be. He didn’t look much over thirty. He had serious gray eyes and a ready smile for the bishop and his mother. The bishop introduced Owen and Grace. She immediately buried her face in Owen’s side when the sheriff turned his attention to her.

  Owen patted her head. “Don’t be frightened. This is a friend. He’s going to help us find your family.”

  The sheriff sat on a chair and leaned forward to speak to her. “Howdy, Grace. I’m Sheriff McIntyre. I’m here to help. Can you tell me your last name?”

  She shook her head. The sheriff looked at Owen. He shrugged. “I did ask her that last night. She said, ‘I can’t say.’ I thought that was odd. All I’ve been able to find out is that her name is Grace, she’s three, has no siblings and that her mommy is sleeping.”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “‘Can’t say’ as in she doesn’t know or that she isn’t supposed to tell?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Sheriff McIntyre smiled at her. “Grace, why can’t you tell us your last name?”

  She looked at Owen. “It’s okay. You can tell the sheriff,” he urged.

  “Mamm said no.” She pressed her lips together.

  Sheriff McIntyre tried a different tack. “Whose house is your mommy sleeping at? Is it your house?”

  “She’s in the car,” Grace said without making eye contact.

  The sheriff’s eyebrows shot up. “Your mother is sleeping in a car?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Is the car at someone’s house?” Ruth asked.

  Grace shook her head. Owen leaned down to look in her eyes. “Can you show us where the car is?”

  Grace’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know where it is. It’s lost.”

  “Is there anyone else with your mother?” the sheriff asked abruptly, his tone full of concern. “Was the car running? Could you hear the engine?”

  “Nee, it stopped. She’s all alone. I want my mommy.” Grace burst into tears.

  Owen lifted her into his arms to console her. He caught the sheriff’s worried look. It was echoed in Ruth’s eyes. If Grace’s mother had spent the frigid night in a car, she could be in serious trouble.

  The sheriff rose to his feet. “I’ll get a search party started right away.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  RUTH LISTENED AS the sheriff spoke into the radio fastened to his shirt, giving rapid commands in a succinct voice that conveyed the urgency of the situation. He glanced at Owen. “See if she can tell you what color the car is. We’ll start a grid search at Ernest’s farm since that’s where Grace first showed up.”

  Owen lifted Grace onto his lap. “Can you tell me what color car your mother was in? Think hard. It’s important.”

  Grace shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Was it red? Was it black? Maybe it was a green car?” Each of Owen’s questions was answered with a vigorous shake of her head. Finally, Owen patted her back and looked at the sheriff. “Sorry we can’t be more help.”

  The sheriff took a deep breath. “That’s okay. Was your mother driving or was someone else driving you?”

  “Mamm was.”

  “So she’s alone,” the sheriff said as he stood. “Time is of the essence now.” He headed for the door.

  The bishop was already pulling on his coat. “I will meet you at Ernest’s place with as many men as I can gather.”

  Owen stood up with Grace in his arms. “I’ll ride with you, Bishop. Ernest may be home by now. If he’s not, I’ll take his buggy and join you. Ruth, take Grace back to your place.” He tried to detach her from his neck, but she screamed at the top of her lungs and hung on more tightly.

  “It’s all right, Grace,” Ruth said calmly. “Let Owen help these men look for your mother.”

  Grace wasn’t having any of it. She kept sobbing. “Don’t leave me.”

  Finally Ruth stepped back. “Let’s take her back to my place, Owen. We can send Zack and Faron to help with the search.”

  She could see Owen wanted to take part, but realized upsetting Grace wasn’t doing any good. “Okay.”

  When they reached the buggy, he helped Ruth in while maintaining his hold on Grace. It was snowing heavily. The sheriff drove off with his blue lights flashing. The bishop backed his tractor out of the shed and followed him. Ruth picked up the reins. Owen didn’t object.

  Once they were out on the county road, Ruth urged Licorice to a faster pace. “If Ernest is at home he’s going to be surprised by his visitors.”

  “Seems odd to think he doesn’t know what’s going on yet. He doesn’t even know about Grace arriving on his doorstep.”

  “He’ll take it in stride.” She glanced at Owen.

  He managed a halfhearted smile. “I can’t wait to hear the stories Onkel Ernest spins out of this.”

  “Let’s pray they have a happy ending.”

  Grace still clung to Owen. He shifted her weight to a more comfortable position. “I have already been doing that.”

  Grace finally grew calm when she realized Owen wasn’t leaving her. She left his lap to sit between them. The rest of the drive was made in silence.

  Faron must’ve been watching for them. He came out of the house as soon as Ruth drew Licorice to a halt. He opened the driver’s-side buggy door. “Did you learn anything?”

  “We did.” She let her son assist her out of the buggy. “Put Licorice away and come back to the house as quick as you can. I’ll tell you about it then.”

  His eyebrows rose but he led the horse away without another word. Owen followed Ruth into the house. They both took off their coats. Owen helped Grace take hers off, too. The child began rubbing her eyes. Ruth caught Owen’s gaze. “Someone looks like they could use a nap. Why don’t you take her up to my room, where it’s quiet?”

  She didn’t want Grace to overhear the plans to search for her missing mother. Owen nodded and carried the child upstairs.

  Ella and Zack stopped their game of checkers and waited for Ruth to sit down in her chair. A few minutes later Faron came in. “Okay, what did you learn that you didn’t want to repeat in front of Grace?”

  Ruth told them what she had learned. “When the sheriff started questioning Grace, she said her mother was sleeping in a car that wasn’t running.”

  They all exchanged perplexed looks. Zack was the first to realize the significance of Grace’s statement. “A stalled car would be a very cold place to spend the night. Especially last night.”

  Ruth sighed. “Exactly. Was she really asleep or is that what a three-year-old would assume? The sheriff is setting up the search party at Ernest’s place.”

  Zack and Faron looked at each other. “We’ll go,” Faron said as he got to his feet. “What about Owen?”

  Ruth shook her head. “Grace won’t let him out of her sight.”

  “The poor child,” Ella said. “She must be terrified of being left alone again. I can’t imagine what she went through last night before she found shelter.”

  “Too bad Meeka can’t tell us what happened,” Faron sai
d. “After all this wind there won’t be any footprints to retrace.” The men started for the door.

  Ella shot to her feet. “Wait. I’m coming with you. I can get hot coffee and hot food going for the searchers in case they need it.”

  That her children were eager and willing to help swelled Ruth’s heart. We raised them right, Nathan.

  Ella turned back before she left the room. “How is Owen holding up?”

  “Maybe he’s not happy about having a child to look after but I assume he’s fine.”

  Ella rolled her eyes. “How can you assume that when he lost his entire family at a young age? He has to know what Grace is going through being separated from her mother.” She left the room, shaking her head.

  Shame brought a lump to Ruth’s throat. She hadn’t given much thought to Owen’s feelings. To do so meant examining feelings of her own. About him. She wasn’t ready for that, but she could treat him with more kindness.

  She climbed the stairs to check on Grace—and on him. She paused with her hand on her bedroom door. The soft sound of singing came from inside. She eased the door open a little. Owen sat in the rocker by the window where she liked to do her needlework. He had Grace cradled in his arms as he rocked gently to the tempo of the song. It was an Amish lullaby that she had sung to her children. He was staring out the window and didn’t notice her. “Schloof, bobbli, schloof,” he sang. “Sleep, baby, sleep. Your father tends his sheep. Your mother shakes the dreamland tree. And from it falls sweet dreams for thee.”

  She thought Grace was asleep, but the child reached up and patted Owen’s cheek. “Can you take me home now?”

  “I wish I could, but I don’t know where your home is.”

  “Sing me the song again.”

  He started the song over as he continued rocking. It was a side of Owen she never expected to see. Ruth quietly closed the door and went into the spare bedroom, where she opened a trunk that contained some of Ella’s and Faron’s outgrown clothes. She had kept them for the grandchildren she hoped to have one day. Ruth pulled out a small dress she thought she could alter to fit Grace and went downstairs.

  In the kitchen she decided to start a meal that would be ready whenever Owen came down. She pulled a ham from the refrigerator and began slicing it into a pan. Deciding what she would say to Owen was a much harder choice.

  * * *

  OWEN LAID GRACE on the bed and pulled the quilt up over her shoulders when she finally fell asleep. He stood watching her for a while. She was so young and so innocent. She couldn’t understand what was happening and why her mother wasn’t with her.

  He had understood his parents and siblings weren’t coming back when they were killed, but his little sister hadn’t been old enough to grasp the finality of their deaths. She had asked him time and again when they would come home. Rebecca had clung to him much the same way Grace was doing. He’d felt responsible for Rebecca and it had torn his heart in half when she’d been taken away from him.

  He wanted to join the search for Grace’s mother, but he wasn’t going to leave Ruth with a distraught child if Grace woke up and found he was gone. He couldn’t do that to either of them.

  He left the bedroom door open and went downstairs. He could hear Ruth in the kitchen. He walked to the front door and stepped out onto the porch. It was still snowing heavily, but the north wind was driving it sideways now. It wouldn’t take long for the east-west roads to begin drifting shut. Visibility was already down to a quarter of a mile. The blizzard-like conditions would soon make searching for Grace’s mother impossible. He prayed she had already been found. He stared into the whiteness, hoping to see the sheriff’s car approaching but nothing was moving except the snow.

  The door behind him opened. “You’ll catch your death without a coat on out here.”

  He turned to see Ruth with a thick dark red shawl clutched around her shoulders standing in the open doorway. “At least I’m not letting all the warm air out of the house.”

  “If you are worried about my heating bill, then come inside.” She turned around and he followed her.

  “Any sign of them?” she asked hopefully.

  “Nothing. Something smells goot.”

  “I heated up some leftover ham to make sandwiches along with tomato soup if you want some.” She headed toward the stove. “Do you like cheese and mustard on your ham?”

  “Cheese and mayo if you have it.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed different about Ruth.

  “That’s the way Faron likes his, too.” She sent a small smile in his direction and turned back to the stove.

  Something was different. She was being nice. He stepped to the cabinet. “I’ll get the plates and bowls.”

  “Danki.”

  He pulled a platter from the cabinet and handed it to her. She began filling it with slices of steaming ham.

  “Would you like your bread toasted?”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “It’s no bother. I like mine that way.”

  “Okay, sure.” She was definitely being nice. He waited until she had the meal on the table and sat down. He bowed his head to say the silent prayer before meals. He looked up when he was finished. She glanced up, smiled. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “This is fine.” He ate his sandwich and tried to figure out what had changed. When he finished his coffee, she got up and poured him another cup.

  “Ruth, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” She kept a smile on her face as she carefully placed the pot on the table.

  “You’re acting odd.”

  Her smile slipped a little. “I’m simply being kind.”

  “I know and, believe me, that is odd.”

  “It’s odd for me to show a guest in my home kindness?” Any trace of her smile vanished as her voice rose.

  “It’s unusual for you to be nice to me.”

  “Owen Mast, how can you say such a thing? I have never in my life been anything but civil to you.”

  He put his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together. “I remember one evening when you were far more than civil.”

  Her cheeks bloomed fiery red. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about.”

  He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. “It was a pretty spring evening. You had on a blue dress that matched your eyes. We were riding home from the singing at the Yoder farm. We stopped at the end of your father’s lane.” He winked at her. “I remember it in great detail.”

  She raised her chin. “Then your memory is as flawed as the rest of your character.”

  He leaned back in the chair. “That’s better. That’s the Ruth I know.”

  “And to think I was feeling sorry for you.”

  “Ah! Now the truth comes out. Why would you feel sorry for me?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He shook one finger at her. “Lying is wrong.”

  She glared at him. “Ella was concerned that Grace’s missing mother would bring back troubling memories for you.”

  “Ella has always been sensitive to the needs of others.”

  “And I’m not? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She was fun to rile, and he enjoyed teasing her. Maybe too much so. Spending time with her was getting easier. He was starting to look forward to their skirmishes.

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all. You pour your heart and soul into caring for your family. You are a good mother, but pity the person who gets between you and your cubs. You need to cut the apron strings.”

  “So you decided to slice them for me?”

  “I had nothing to do with Faron’s plans. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true. When Ernest wrote and asked me to take care of the farm while he was gone, I thought it was an unusual request from him, but I was glad to help.
He’s never needed me before. I thought maybe he was in poor health or something. As soon as I arrived and heard Faron was going with him but hadn’t told you yet, I knew the two of them had cooked it up between them.”

  Owen watched Ruth mull over his comment. “I can’t believe Ernest would go behind my back to plan this.”

  “You might want to lay the blame at Faron’s door. He is a good boy. He didn’t want to leave you shorthanded, but this was his chance to see something of the world. I know you don’t think I’ll be much help, but I’m flattered that Ernest and Faron assume I will be. Faron is better off traveling with Ella, Zack and Ernest to look out for him. If you forbid him to go this time, he may decide to strike out on his own someday. When a fellow does that, it’s hard to come home and admit you made a mistake.”

  “Is that why you never came back?”

  “I came back lots of times.”

  “But you never stayed. Why not?”

  He looked down at his plate. “There was never anything to keep me here, and I had to find my sister.” He looked up and forced a smile. “Besides, I liked seeing new places and meeting new people. I reckon I was born with a wanderlust.”

  “Somehow I don’t think that’s the whole truth,” she said softly.

  He couldn’t meet her gaze.

  * * *

  “THIS IS HARD for you, isn’t it?” Ruth asked, watching the emotions play across his face. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him but she did.

  “For me? You mean because of my sister?” He rose and went to stare out the window.

  “Are you still searching for her after all these years?”

  He looked around at her. “I found Rebecca two months ago.”

  Ruth was stunned. “Owen, that’s wonderful. Why didn’t you tell us? Where did you find her?”

  “She was living in an Amish community in Indiana.”

  “You don’t sound excited. You’ve been searching for her for twenty years.”

  He turned to face her. “Twenty-five years. That was when my aunt Thelma stopped writing to your mother-in-law and moved the first time.”