Susanna spun toward the shed where Noah kept his plow and other implements he needed only at planting or harvesting. Silent iron tools greeted her, with no sign Noah had been there recently. She scurried toward the pasture, where the cow lay in the dirt chewing cud and the horses nibbled at the grass. Noah was not in the pasture, nor walking along the fence. Susanna balled the fabric of her skirt in her hands to allow her feet speed, running toward the vegetable garden, where Noah sometimes weeded, and then toward the planted fields. She saw no one.
She must have missed him somewhere. Susanna retraced her steps—with urgency—fighting off the fright that he might have climbed to the barn roof.
“Cousin Noah!”
But he was not on the roof. He was not in the house. He was not in the chicken coop. He was not behind the shed. He was not in the fields or the pasture.
Noah was nowhere.
Noah was nowhere.
CHAPTER 32
Heat drenched Adam’s shirt beyond what he would wish to sit in at his aunt’s midday dinner table. At the well, he splashed himself clean, removed his shirt to rinse it in the bucket, and donned a fresh dry garment before anyone caught him shirtless. He ran his hands through his hair and settled his straw hat where it belonged, expecting that any moment now Deborah would call him to dinner.
The sight of Susanna racing her cart into the Zug yard startled him.
“Adam,” she said as she reined the horse to an abrupt stop, “you must help. You must!”
He sucked in his breath. She was back about the barn roof, and in a fury.
“I am sure someone else will be glad to patch the roof.” Adam would leave it to one of the men who went to hear Noah preach.
Susanna shook her head and jumped out of the cart. “Not that. Noah is missing.”
“Missing?”
“I have looked everywhere,” Susanna said. “He is not on the farm.”
“An errand,” Adam suggested, though his pulse pushed faster.
Susanna shook her head with more vigor. “I do not think so. The horses are there.”
“He might have walked.”
“He left no note.”
Noah was not the sort to jaunt off because of an impetuous thought. When he left the farm, he had a list long enough to make the excursion worthwhile.
“The fields, the outbuildings—I have looked everywhere,” Susanna said.
“You think he has wandered off?”
“I do not know what to think, except that we must find him.”
Adam glanced at the sun. “It is not yet time for his spell. He knows to be careful as the time approaches.”
“Noah is not a Swiss watch,” Susanna said. “We cannot be certain that the time will not vary. After all, it used to be in the middle of the night.”
Adam’s eyes darted around the Zug farm as if he might settle on something also present on the Kauffman land to suggest where Noah could have gone.
“We are wasting time,” Susanna said. “You cannot say no. What if someone took Noah?”
Adam lurched. “Why would anyone take Noah?”
“To stop his preaching, of course.”
“You do not mean Shem.”
“I do not mean anyone in particular. I only mean that we must think of every possibility.”
“How long has he been missing?”
“I only just discovered him gone,” Susanna said, her voice cracking. “But he might have left soon after Phoebe and I did, and that was hours ago.”
“But without a horse—”
Susanna interrupted him with a wide gesture toward the mountain. “With danger in his backyard, why should he need a horse to come to harm?”
Adam nodded. Susanna’s breath came fast and shallow. Fright transformed her countenance.
“I am mindful of our previous conversation,” she said, “but Adam, Noah is missing. He is vulnerable. You must help me find him.”
Niklaus strode toward Susanna’s familiar cart hitched to a Kauffman horse. Normally Susanna constrained her manners in a becoming way, but now she stood in his yard in an unabashed plea for help, mindless of volume or tenor.
“Of course we will help,” Niklaus said.
“And Jonas?” Susanna said.
Niklaus swung his head back and forth. “He is off the farm all day today.”
Susanna trembled. “I would not make such a fuss if I did not believe Noah might be in danger.”
“Of course.” Niklaus ran a hand along the edge of her cart. “This will only slow you down. We will need to be on horseback, especially if we have to go up the mountain.”
“I do not ride.” Susanna’s eyes puddled.
“Then we will find a horse sturdy enough for the two of you.” Niklaus marched toward the stable with Adam and Susanna in his wake. Susanna was slight enough to settle comfortably behind Adam in one of the longer saddles.
In tandem, Niklaus and Adam bridled Adam’s gray stallion and led it outside.
“I want the two of you to go back to Noah’s farm,” Niklaus said. “Ride the entire perimeter and then work your way toward the house and barn. Make sure he did not come home on his own or has not fallen somewhere.”
“We are wasting time,” Susanna said. “I told Adam I looked already.”
“The most likely scenario is that he is still on the farm but out of sight,” Niklaus said. “We will begin there. Get on the horse.”
Adam slung himself into the saddle and offered a hand to Susanna. Niklaus stood behind her, ready if she should misjudge the mount.
“I will be right behind you,” Niklaus said, “as soon as I can get another horse ready.”
Susanna held Adam’s waist more tentatively than Niklaus would have imagined. Once they found Noah, Niklaus would sort out what had gone wrong between the two of them.
“Go!” He slapped the stallion’s rump and watched the animal gallop up the lane.
Niklaus turned to find his wife approaching.
“What is going on?” Deborah asked.
Niklaus explained.
“You will need food and water,” she said. “When you find Noah, he will need refreshment. I will pack something while you get yourself ready.”
Niklaus nodded.
“Take two horses,” Deborah said. “And some ropes. You may have to tie him to the saddle. And the good lantern.”
Niklaus met his wife’s eyes, both of them mindful of the image her words created. If Noah had come to harm and could not sit upright, they would need the ropes.
And if he had come to ultimate harm—Niklaus banished the possibility and pushed back into the stable for two sure-footed animals and his best saddlebags. His charcoal-gray stallion was the strongest in the stable, and a black mare was gentle enough to carry an unconscious rider.
“It is good we are coming early,” Patsy said to her father, their side-by-side mounts gently trotting toward the Kauffman farm after a vigorous run in which both riders had given the animals their heads. “You will get to speak to Noah. I’m sure he will be glad to see you.”
“And I him,” Charles said. “I want to know how he is in his spirit.”
Patsy chuckled. “And you want to see him fall under again.”
“It is a curious sight,” Charles conceded. “The more I observe it, the more I may understand it.”
“Is it not enough to hear his words and know that God brings it to be?”
Charles nodded. “For me, yes. But I encounter questioning souls about this phenomenon, and I should be more prepared to offer answers.”
They turned into the path cut through the trees, barely wide enough for a wagon, and entered Kauffman land.
“I can also see what Phoebe needs help with,” Patsy said.
Sometimes when Patsy arrived, Phoebe had not yet had a chance to collect the day’s eggs, or milk awaited churning into butter, or the vegetable garden was heavy with abundance in need of picking. Their early arrival today would also allow her father to judge what Noah might
need help with, or at least offer a few moments of companionship.
As Patsy expected, they had arrived in advance of the usual gathering crowd. Phoebe’s angry chicken episode made some people more cautious about finding seats on the benches, but nearly always there would still be wagons lining up around the perimeter of the yard.
A moment of relief that they had in fact arrived before the audience and could enjoy a cheerful visit with Noah and Phoebe soon morphed into befuddlement.
The farm was too still.
The horses were in the pasture, where Patsy expected to find them, but no sound of work rose from the house or barn—though the doors were wide open on both structures.
Patsy slid off Galahad, yanked open the barn door, and walked through the building to emerge on the other side. A few chickens flustered, but most lost interest once they saw she dropped no feed. The makeshift work area Noah had rigged for Susanna’s dye pots showed no sign of recent use. The back door of the house was unlatched, and Patsy went in and called for Noah, Phoebe, or Susanna before walking through the house and returning to her father in the front yard.
“No one is home,” she said. “It’s very odd.”
“They must have gone off together somewhere,” Charles said.
“Perhaps.” It was possible, though in Patsy’s experience, Phoebe preferred that Noah be at home when the time came that he might fall under.
“As long as they are together, all is well,” Charles said, leading the horses to the hooks on the barn wall to tie them with generous leash. “Will they mind if I take a place on one of the benches?”
“I’m sure not,” Patsy said. She sat down herself, something she rarely did, and imagined what it must be like to come to the Kauffman farm simply to hear Noah preach the Word of God and not to be vigilant about those who came with other intentions or because there was work to do and someone needed to be with Noah.
Patsy and Charles sat side by side on the front bench. He was relaxed and smiled in anticipation. Patsy, though, grew stiffer with each moment. Something was wrong.
CHAPTER 33
Susanna had never ridden behind Adam before. On Galahad with Patsy, it was not unseemly to hold on to her friend and lean together into the gathering speed of the horse. A few weeks ago, the thought of hanging on to Adam for the same purpose would have stirred giddiness. More than once, in the secret of imagination, she had hoped that when they were married she could duck her head into his back, urging him to dare a fiercer gallop. Grief over a moment was not to be mingled with anxiety about Noah, though, and Susanna could not help but say, “Faster!”
And Adam had gone faster, so now she had her head against the back of his shoulder just as she had imagined but without exhilaration. In only a few yards, she had seen the insensibility of trying to keep her quilted black bonnet on her head and let it hang from her neck by the ties while her cheek felt the muscles of Adam’s back rippling beneath his movements with the reins.
They thundered onto the Kauffman farm.
“Patsy has brought her father,” Susanna called above the wind and clatter of hooves.
Two figures popped up from the front bench and turned toward them.
“Have you seen Noah?” Susanna said as Adam halted the stallion.
Patsy shook her head.
“Phoebe?” Susanna said.
Once again Patsy shook her head. “Is something amiss? I was surprised to arrive and find none of you here.”
That had never been the plan. Noah was to remain on the farm, and Phoebe had meant to have a short visit. Both should have been cleaning up for dinner by the time Susanna returned from her deliveries.
Susanna managed some words and hoped they formed sentences.
“We’ll help look,” Charles said. “We have two good horses.”
Susanna nodded. “Niklaus will be right behind us. We must search the farm again, every irrigation ditch and furrowed row.”
“We’ll go,” Patsy said, marching toward Galahad. “We will meet you back here one way or the other. Papa, come with me.”
Susanna released her grip on Adam’s waist, something she should have done as soon as the horse stilled. She hesitated to dismount if she was going to get back on soon. Every second would matter if they had to go up the mountain.
“What should we do?” she said as Patsy and Charles raced toward the Kauffman fields.
“We wait.”
Adam’s surety surprised her.
“My onkel will be here soon, and with two people searching the fields, we will have a report soon.”
“And Phoebe,” Susanna murmured.
Adam twisted in the saddle for a glimpse of her face, and Susanna did not turn away.
The next sound was an early arriving wagon. Susanna moaned and leaned out of the saddle until she could free both legs to drop to the ground. A busybody spreading rumors about impropriety would help nothing.
“Stay calm.” Adam dismounted in the other direction and handed Susanna the reins.
He sauntered a few yards and met the wagon driven by Mrs. Henderson, an English woman. “Noah will not be preaching today.”
“Why not? What happened?” Mrs. Henderson said.
“He does not preach every day,” Adam said. “This is one of those days.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I am quite sure. Noah will not be coming to the window this afternoon.”
Fretting, Susanna was holding her breath. If they had to search further for Noah, they would need all the help possible, but a mother in a wagon with three children was not likely to be a swift addition to the search party.
“I might wait and see for myself,” Mrs. Henderson said. “The children will be content to play in the wagon bed.”
Adam lifted his eyes beyond the wagon, cocking his head slightly to listen for his uncle’s galloping horse. Instead, another wagon rolled in, followed by two men on horses separated by twenty yards and both in unhurried trots.
Adam glanced at Susanna, who shrugged more with her eyes than her shoulders. He walked back toward her.
“Maybe we should go in the house and close the shutters,” he said.
Susanna shook her head. “That will only raise more questions about whether Noah is inside ill or what we might be hiding. Besides, Phoebe could turn up any minute.”
“Maybe one of us should walk up to the lane to meet her there,” Adam said.
“I will,” Susanna said. “She should hear it from me.”
“Remember,” Adam said, “Patsy and Charles could also return with news that all is well.”
Susanna squeezed her eyes. “All is not well, Adam.”
Adam nudged her elbow. “Go.”
She hurried up the lane. Another Amish wagon passed her on its way down, and a couple of English men on horses.
Where was Niklaus? He should have been right behind Adam and her.
“What is the matter, Adam?” Mr. Krabill said.
Adam’s attention snapped back from Susanna’s disappearing form to the scene magnifying before him.
“Why must anything be the matter?” Adam said.
“You look fidgety.”
“I have tried to explain there will be no sermon today,” Adam said.
The next wagon rattling down the hill was Phoebe’s, and Susanna was beside her on the bench. Phoebe drove far too fast for the slope and the presence of other rigs and horses. Adam waved some people out of the way and went to greet her.
“Where is he?” Phoebe spoke loudly enough to make heads turn.
“His own wife doesn’t know where he is?” someone said.
“Adam,” Phoebe said, “send these people away.”
“I have been trying,” he said.
“I cannot manage their presence right now,” Phoebe said. She called toward the benches, “Please go home. You may come again another day.”
“No!” Susanna said. “There are men and horses here. They might help.”
Adam spun around t
o address the crowd, even as it grew by another half dozen people.
“May I have your attention, please?” Adam strode toward the benches. “As I have explained, Noah will not be preaching today. This is because we fear Noah is not on the farm. I expect that in a very few minutes an organized search will begin to make sure that our brother has not come to harm. I stand before you and call upon you either to be prepared to help or to clear away so that you do not impede the effort.”
“I knew something peculiar was happening,” Mrs. Henderson said. “You and the Hooley girl have been acting oddly since I arrived.”
“Again,” Adam said, “if you can help, we welcome your assistance. If your responsibilities prevent this, then I ask you to be on your way.”
Ropes. Water. Blankets. Adam tried to think what else he might gather.
Lanterns.
In the early afternoon, it was difficult to imagine they might still be looking for Noah after nightfall, but if they were going up on the mountain, Adam wanted to be prepared.
Niklaus heard the ruckus before it came into view. As he turned into the Kauffman lane, leading a second saddled horse, Patsy and Charles galloped out of a field of cornstalks and headed straight for the farmyard. Niklaus pressed his knees into his horse again and followed them.
Somber, Patsy and Charles shook their heads at Susanna. Phoebe slumped into Susanna’s arms.
“Who has a saddled horse?” Niklaus called out.
“I have a good wagon and a sturdy team,” Mrs. Wagler said.
“A rig will be too cumbersome up on the ridge,” Niklaus said.
Adam emerged from the barn with two lanterns. Niklaus nodded approval. Adam might be tentative about responding to conflict of opinion, but he had a good head on his shoulders in a situation like this one. They now had three lanterns that Niklaus hoped they would have no use for.
“Are we certain Noah did not take a horse?” Niklaus said.
Phoebe straightened and looked toward the pasture. “They are all there but the one Susanna took. He is on foot.”
“Do you have extra saddles?” Niklaus said.
“Just the one Noah uses,” Phoebe said. “The other has a broken strap.”
“How far could he have gotten?” Susanna asked.
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