The Hope

by Patricia Davids

  “I’m fine with her. Are you taking the buggy?”

  “I thought I would take the sleigh.”

  “We never got the back runner fixed.”

  Ruth slapped a hand onto her cheek. “Oh, that’s right. So much has happened since then I’ve forgotten about our accident. Do you think Grace’s mother could have been the one who crashed into us that day?”

  “It’s worth considering. No one saw the driver. The car was swerving before it hit us. What if the driver was sick and not just some teen out joyriding?”

  Ruth nodded. “It’s worth mentioning to the sheriff.”

  “You’re right. At least we know the color of that car and which way it was headed.”

  Her eyes widened. “It was headed toward Ernest’s farm. There is only one more farm past his on that road, then it loops around a portion of the lake and reconnects with the highway out west of Garnett. If you hurry maybe you can catch the sheriff before he leaves. I can’t move fast enough.”

  “Your sharp mind makes up for your limited mobility.”

  “Flattery from you? That’s different.”

  “Think of it as a long-overdue compliment.” He rushed out the door before she had time to utter a comeback.

  Outside he saw the sheriff with the map spread on the hood of his SUV. Around him were four Amish men, including the bishop, and three Englisch fellows. He recognized all of their faces from the skating party, but the tall Amish man with a new short beard was the only one whose name he could remember. He was Joshua King. Meeka came up to Owen wagging her tail and began nosing his hand. She whined and grasped it in her mouth. He shook her off.

  Joshua stepped over to the side so Owen could view the map.

  “How is the little girl doing?” Joshua asked.

  “Pretty well, all things considered.” The dog grasped his hand again. “Meeka, stop it.” He moved her back with his knee.

  “Laura Beth will be relieved to hear that. She and her sister Sarah have been concerned about the child. Tell Ruth if there is anything she needs she has only to ask. Now that the weather has taken a turn for the better I’m sure they’ll be over to visit.”

  “They will be welcome. Sheriff, there is something I neglected to tell you. Before the skating party, Ruth’s sleigh was hit by a car that didn’t stop.”

  The sheriff frowned. “You’re just now reporting a hit-and-run?”

  “The decision was mine,” said the bishop. “No one could identify the driver. The sleigh wasn’t badly damaged. I saw no point in troubling you.”

  “With everything else that happened later it slipped my mind,” Owen admitted. “It wasn’t until Ruth pointed out that the car was headed toward Ernest’s place that we thought there might be a connection.”

  The sheriff turned back to the map. “Show me where it happened.”

  Joshua pointed a finger to the spot. “About there.”

  “You saw it? What time was that?”

  Joshua looked at Owen. “I saw it happen, but I was too far away to see the driver. The car was weaving back and forth before it hit Ruth’s sleigh. It didn’t even slow down. It just kept going. It was about two o’clock.”

  Owen nodded. “I think that’s right. It was a dark green car. I don’t know the make or model. Faron might be able to tell you.”

  “I’ll take a look at the sleigh. If we are lucky there may be some paint transfer from the car.”

  “It’s in the shed beside the barn.” Owen pointed out the building. The sheriff walked off.

  Ruth came out of the house with Ernest. Owen left the group to harness Licorice and hitch her to the buggy. He led the horse out of the barn and up to the house. The searchers on tractors, four-wheelers and pickups pulled out of the yard one by one.

  The sheriff came back to Owen. “There’s a streak of dark green paint on the side of the sleigh. I’ll have my lab people collect a sample.” He got in his vehicle and left.

  Owen opened the buggy door to help Ruth in. She took his hand without hesitation and stepped up. Once she was seated, he leaned in. “Be careful out there. It will be dark in a couple of hours. Don’t go walking onto any snowdrifts. The crust might not be strong enough to hold you. You could sink up to your neck before you knew it. I know you. You’ll be out searching before long. Which way are you going first?”

  “Toward the lake.”

  “Do you have a goot flashlight?”

  She opened the compartment on the dash, pulled out a yellow one, pointed it at his face and switched it on. He flinched away from the intense light and put up his hand. “Goot enough?” she asked with a hint of humor in her voice.

  “A simple ja would have worked.”

  “It wouldn’t have been nearly as convincing.”

  He blinked until the spots in his vision cleared. “It will be in the future.”

  That made her smile. Hope grew in his heart. If they could part as friends when his time here was up, he’d be a happy man. He wouldn’t stay away so long next time. Seeing her smile lifted his spirits. “If you aren’t back by seven o’clock, I’ll come looking for you.”

  Ruth picked up her reins. “Don’t fuss. Licorice knows her way to the barn.”

  “Make sure you’re with her when she gets here.” He closed the door and stepped back, wishing with all his heart that he could accompany her. He understood her need to be doing something. He felt the same way. He turned on his heels and went back into the house. But until Grace was comfortable staying without him he wasn’t going to traumatize her more.

  He had promised to look after Grace. His purpose for coming back to Cedar Grove was to help Ruth any way she needed. Even if that meant being a babysitter when he wanted to join the search.

  Inside he slowly climbed the stairs and peeked into Ruth’s room, where she had put Grace down for her nap. The bed was empty.

  “Grace?”

  She didn’t answer. He checked the other rooms but didn’t find her.

  He went downstairs. “Grace, where are you?”

  Hopefully she wasn’t playing the safe place game in a spot she had decided was better than the bathroom cabinet. He checked there first. No Grace.

  He headed for the kitchen but stopped in the entryway when he realized her coat and her boots were gone. He opened the front door and went to the end of the porch. “Grace, answer me!”

  There was only silence.

  CHAPTER NINE

  RUTH WAS LESS than a quarter of a mile from the house when she noticed Licorice begin limping. She pulled the horse to a stop and got out. The mare didn’t want to put weight on her right front foot.

  “Easy, girl. Let me have a look.” Ruth patted the horse’s neck, praying it wasn’t anything serious. Licorice was her only buggy horse. She lifted the animal’s leg. It took her only a moment to assess the trouble. There was a stone wedged between the hoof and shoe.

  She released Licorice’s leg and rubbed the horse’s cheek. “This is an easy fix. I’m glad it’s not a thrown shoe or worse.”

  Ruth fetched a hoof pick from the toolbox under the front seat. She thought she heard a voice in the distance. She listened closely but didn’t hear anything else. After removing the offending stone, she put the pick back in the box and walked to the rear of the buggy. She listened intently and heard a shout this time. It sounded like Owen repeatedly calling for Grace. What was wrong?

  She ignored the pain in her knee as she rushed to climb in the buggy and turn Licorice around. When she reached the yard, she saw Owen hurry out of the barn. She drew Licorice to a stop beside him. “Owen, what’s wrong?”

  He helped Ruth out of the buggy. “I can’t find Grace anywhere. I’ve looked all through the house, even the cellar and attic.”

  “What about her hiding place?”

  “That’s the first spot I checked. Her coat and boots ar
e missing, too. I thought she must’ve come outside. Maybe she got in one of the vehicles that were here with the sheriff.”

  “To hunt for her mother. She might do that. Let’s be sure that she isn’t here before we involve anyone else.”

  “I was going to search the barn when I heard you drive in.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll search the henhouse and Faron’s workshop.”

  They met up fifteen minutes later. Ruth could see how worried Owen was. He cared deeply about Grace and so did she. More than she had realized. Ruth shaded her eyes to gaze out into the pasture. Nothing moved. “Why would she suddenly decide to leave the farm?”

  She wasn’t expecting an answer, but he grasped her arm. “Meeka. The dog was here earlier.”

  “I haven’t seen her since I got back. Was she in the barn?”

  “She wasn’t.”

  “Meeka! Here, Meeka,” she yelled. The dog didn’t appear. Owen walked away from Ruth and began searching the ground.

  She realized what he was looking for. Tracks. She began walking in the opposite direction. There were a few paw prints in the snow but no little boot impressions until she reached the side of the house. “Owen, over here.”

  He hurried to her side. They discovered Grace had left by the back door and followed the dog toward the sheep pasture behind the house. With a clear trail in front of them they picked up the pace until Ruth began limping heavily.

  Owen stopped. “What was I thinking? You can’t go traipsing through this snow-covered, uneven ground. Can you make it back to the house?”

  “I can but I’m not going back.”

  He rolled his eyes. “How did I know you were going to say that? Wait here a minute.”

  “If you walk away and leave me, I will just follow you.”

  He turned around and gave her an odd look. “Is that a promise? Never mind. I’m not leaving you. I’m getting you a walking stick.”

  “Oh. Goot idea.” She knew her cheeks were red, but she hoped that he attributed it to the cold. It was just like him to suggest she cared enough to go running after him. She didn’t now, but she had considered it at one time. A long time ago when she was a brokenhearted teenager who didn’t understand why he’d left without saying goodbye.

  She shook off the memory of those days. When he finally left this time all she’d feel would be relief.

  He grinned. “I have them sometimes.”

  “What?” She realized she had lost the drift of the conversation.

  He tipped his head. “Goot ideas.”

  She crossed her arms. “I’m sure YOU think they are goot.”

  He chuckled and turned away to trudge through a snowdrift by the fence where a lone tree stood. He broke off a thick dead branch, pruned a few of the smaller stubs with his pocketknife and brought it back to her. “See if this helps.”

  It made keeping her balance easier. “Ja, this is better.”

  She thought he would make another smart remark, but he simply walked on ahead. She struggled to keep up with him, but she wasn’t about to admit it was too difficult. Little Grace was out here somewhere and could easily become lost in the unfamiliar landscape even if she had Meeka with her.

  Every few minutes Owen stopped, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out Grace’s and Meeka’s names. Ruth noticed he spent longer than necessary listening for a reply. She suspected he was simply giving her time to catch up and rest before he started again.

  They were nearing the creek when Ruth stepped in a hidden hole and went down face-first into the snow.

  He was at her side in an instant. He knelt next to her, lifted her in his arms and began gently brushing the snow from her face. “Are you hurt? Is it your knee?”

  She struggled to sit up by herself. He released her. She began removing clumps of snow from beneath her coat collar. “I’m fine. Embarrassed, cold and foolish, but otherwise fine.”

  “You don’t appear foolish to me,” he said softly.

  She looked at him in surprise. “I don’t?”

  “I see someone determined and amazing” was his soft reply. There was no trace of humor in his eyes.

  Speechless, she got to her feet, brushed off her coat, took the walking stick he handed her and set out again. She was still trying to come up with a reply when she heard a dog bark ahead of them. She looked over her shoulder. “That’s Meeka.”

  Owen ran past her. When she caught up with him, he was kneeling beside a large snowdrift with Grace clasped to his chest. Meeka stood beside him. The dog greeted Ruth with a single deep woof and began digging in the snow.

  Relief made Ruth weak, but she managed a stern tone. “Grace, you should never, ever run off like that. You have to tell someone where you are going. You frightened us both.”

  Grace clung to Owen’s neck as she peeked at Ruth. “Are you mad at me?”

  “We are both upset with you,” he said. “This was very bad. What made you come all the way out here?”

  “Meeka wanted to show me where Mamm is.” Grace let go of Owen and began to dig in the snow beside the dog.

  Owen snagged her around the waist and pulled her away. “Let me do it, Grace. You and Ruth go stand out of the way so Meeka doesn’t cover you with snow.”

  “But I want to help. Mamm, can you hear me?”

  Ruth knew exactly why Owen didn’t want Grace to help. He was afraid of what she would see. She took Grace from him and moved away.

  * * *

  MEEKA KEPT DIGGING and barking. Owen knelt beside her and began digging into the drift with his hands. He desperately wanted to find Grace’s mother, but not like this. There wasn’t a vehicle under the drift. It wasn’t tall enough to hide a car, although it was wide and long. Had she left her car and tried to follow Grace on foot only to fall victim to the cold and snow in Ruth’s pasture less than a half mile from Ernest’s house?

  Meeka barked again. Owen saw the snow move at the bottom of the hole. He couldn’t believe it. Was it possible she was still alive? Dear God, let it be true. He began digging frantically until his hands broke through into a hollow inside the snowdrift.

  A sheep pushed her head out the hole he had made and bleated loudly. Owen sank back on his heels. Bitter disappointment killed the hope that had risen so quickly in his heart. The pain of it was as sharp as a knife. Why had the Lord given him such hope only to snatch it away? He struggled to draw a breath. Why? Where was Grace’s mother? Why couldn’t they find her?

  Hopelessness yawned like a pit in front of him. All the years of searching for his sister should have prepared him for one more disappointment but it only made this worse. Why couldn’t he help the ones he cared about?

  Meeka pushed him aside and continued digging. He rolled out of her way until he was sitting in the snow with his back to the drift. The sheep broke free and climbed out. Two more quickly followed. Meeka greeted each of them with a sniff and a wagging tail. Then she lay down a few yards away, panting from her exertion.

  * * *

  “GOOT DOG.” RUTH put Grace down as she watched Owen seem to fold in on himself. She had seen a fair amount of suffering in her life and she recognized it now.

  Grace peered into the hole in the drift. “Mamm’s not here.”

  “Nee, darling, Meeka only wanted to show you she had found our lost sheep.”

  Grace walked over to Meeka and knelt beside her. She stroked the dog’s massive head. “That’s okay. I’m not mad.”

  Owen looked up at Ruth. “I saw the snow move and I thought I had found her. I thought by some miracle she was alive.”

  The despair in his words touched her deeply. Ruth sat down beside him. “I know you did.”

  “I wanted so badly to find her. I know what Grace is going through.” His voice cracked. He wiped at his eyes.

  Ruth laid a hand on his arm. “You couldn’t find her, Owen, bec
ause she was never here.”

  “It was just a few stupid sheep.” The bleakness of his tone worried her.

  “I’m sure they are grateful to be free.” One of them came back and nosed at his boot, looking for something to eat.

  He gave a harsh laugh at the absurdity of the situation and looked at her. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “I suspected it was our missing ewes by Meeka’s reaction. Like you, I was praying for a different outcome.”

  Grace threw her arms around Meeka and buried her face in her fur. Her little body shook with sobs. “I thought you found Mamm, but you didn’t.”

  Owen motioned toward the child. “Take her and go back to the house, Ruth.”

  “What about you?” This wasn’t the flippant fellow who liked to goad her. Owen was deeply affected. She suspected he had been keeping a lot of his emotions about Grace and her missing mother bottled up. This event had served to uncork them.

  He drew up his knees and folded his arms across them. “I’ll be along in a little while.”

  “Owen, it isn’t your fault.”

  “Please go.”

  She wasn’t going to trudge off and leave him mired in grief and stewing in an undeserved sense of failure. She stood and offered him her walking stick. “Freezing your backside out here won’t solve anything. I thought you were here to help me? I can’t herd the sheep back to the corral by myself. Grace isn’t going to be any help.”

  “Isn’t that what you have a dog for?” He didn’t look up.

  “Great Pyrenees are not herding dogs. Meeka is a guard dog. Get up and help me or be on your way. I don’t need a slacker making more work for me.”

  He cast a sidelong glance up at her. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a mean woman?”

  “Not to my face. However, I’m sure it has been mentioned a time or two behind my back. First you tell me I’m amazing, then you tell me I’m mean. Make up your mind.” She turned away and began limping toward one of the ewes meandering in the wrong direction. Was she right in prodding Owen?