The Storekeeper's Daughter

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The Storekeeper's Daughter Page 12

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “Wouldn’t you rather have Mom’s opinion? She knows more about that kind of thing than I do.”

  “She wouldn’t know how much money you’re willing to let me spend.”

  Linda had a point. Mom would probably tell his wife to get whatever she wanted—that money was no object. It would be easy for her to say; it wasn’t her money she’d be spending. Still, he thought it would be better if the women went shopping while he and Dad stayed home and visited over a cup of coffee or watched TV. They could keep an eye on the baby, too. Surely Linda didn’t want to shop for a quilt while holding a fidgety child.

  “Please, Jim,” she pleaded. “Won’t you turn around and head back to Fannie’s Quilt Shop so I can see what they have in the window?”

  “What about Jimmy?”

  “What about him?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather shop tomorrow, without him?”

  “No. I don’t want to leave him alone.”

  “He wouldn’t be alone. He’ll be with me and Dad while you and Mom come to town.”

  They had entered the town of Berlin, and Jim had to stop for an Amish buggy that had pulled away from the curb. Seeing the buggy made Jim think of the Amish farm where he’d gone for root beer. Root beer he’d never gotten. He’d left with a child, instead.

  “Jim, are you going to go back to that quilt shop or not?”

  Linda’s pleading voice pulled his thoughts aside, and he was grateful. No point dwelling on the past. Especially one he wasn’t free to talk about.

  “Okay, okay. Just let me look for a good place to turn around.”

  “It looks like there are a lot of tourists, doesn’t it? Even for a Sunday,” she remarked.

  “Yeah, plenty of people like us who want to find something made by the Amish to take home.” Linda would not only be taking an Amish quilt home after this trip, but an Amish baby, as well. She just didn’t know it.

  ***

  “I’ll meet you at the Subway place on West Main Street,” Caleb called to his cousin.

  “Okay, but don’t be late. Cleon, my driver, will be pickin’ us up later this afternoon, and then we’ll drive over to Dover so you can catch the bus.”

  Caleb waved at Henry and strolled up the sidewalk. He’d decided to take a walk before they ate and check out some of the shops in the area. He would have to sit for a long time on the bus, so stretching his legs beforehand would be good.

  Caleb had arrived at Henry’s last night, and they’d spent the evening getting caught up on one another’s lives. Since today was an off-Sunday and there’d be no church, first thing this morning, they’d gone to the buggy shop to look at the antique parts Henry had recently acquired. Caleb chose to buy a set of wheels, some spokes and hubs, a couple of shaft bars, and one old seat that was sturdy but would need to be reupholstered. He’d have them shipped to his place; and if he decided to stay in Holmes County a couple more days, the parts would probably be waiting for him when he got home.

  However, Henry said he had a lot of work to do this week, and Caleb was eager to get home, so he decided to catch the evening bus back to Pennsylvania. He should arrive in Lancaster early Monday morning.

  As Caleb neared a store called “Fannie’s Quilt Shop,” he saw a young couple with a baby looking in the window.

  He squinted against the glaring sun. That little guy looks kind of like Zach Fisher. He’s dressed in English clothes, but his hair is cut like an Amish baby’s would be. Don’t rightly see how it could be, though. Zach’s at home with his family, whereas this baby has English parents.

  “Yes, honey, I promise to bring you back sometime tomorrow so you can buy a quilt,” he overheard the man say to the woman.

  Caleb stared at the baby a few more minutes, then finally moved on. I’d better find myself somethin’ cold to drink, ’cause this hot, humid weather must be gettin’ to me. Naomi’s baby brother dressed in English clothes, bein’ held by English folks outside a shop in Ohio? No, it couldn’t be. I’m just missing Naomi, that’s all.

  CHAPTER 14

  Naomi stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. It was hard to think about working at the store today, but she knew it would be expected of her. They had to make a living, and that wouldn’t happen if they all stayed home worrying about Zach and blaming themselves for his disappearance. Of course, Naomi knew she was the only one to blame. She’d let everyone down—Mama most of all, since she hadn’t kept her promise to care for the family. Naomi had failed miserably, and now she feared nothing would ever be the same.

  As she placed the clean dishes into the drainer, Naomi’s thoughts continued to spiral. Where was Zach now? Was he safe and being cared for, or had he been abandoned somewhere? Worse yet, could her baby brother have been murdered?

  She shuddered. Oh, Lord, give me a sense of peace about this. Some word—anything—that will let me know Zach is okay.

  The roar of a car’s engine drove Naomi’s thoughts to the back of her mind. She dried her hands on a towel and went to see who had driven into their yard.

  Outside, Naomi spotted a police car, and Papa came running from the barn. Did the police have information about Zach? If so, she hoped it was good news.

  Naomi stepped off the porch and hurried toward the car. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fisher,” she heard one of the men say. “I’d like to say we’re hot on the suspect’s trail, but the truth is, there is no trail. We don’t have a single lead on your son.”

  “Nothing a’tall?” Papa asked with a catch in his voice.

  The policeman shook his head. “We spoke with all your neighbors, and no one saw anything out of the ordinary on Saturday. Some said they’d seen cars going in and out of your place, but nobody noticed an English man with a baby.”

  Papa’s forehead wrinkled, and he stared down at his boots. “Guess it’s hopeless then.”

  “It’s not hopeless, Mr. Fisher. The local newspaper and TV station have run a story on the kidnapping, so we’re hoping someone will come forward with helpful information.”

  “Without any pictures of your son or a good description of the man and his vehicle, it’s going to be difficult to solve this case,” the other police officer said.

  Naomi felt as if her heart had plunged clear to her toes. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm her fears. So it was hopeless. Zach was gone for good. The days ahead looked bleak and frightening. Without Zach, nothing would ever be the same.

  Papa nudged Naomi’s arm. “Now that you’ve had more time to think on it, can you remember anything else?”

  She shook her head and blinked against the tears that sprang to her eyes. “Sorry.”

  “Was the man old or young?” the first officer asked.

  “I told you Saturday night, he wasn’t old. I’m sure of that much.”

  “But you have no idea if he was in his twenties, thirties, or forties?”

  “And what color was the man’s hair?” the other policeman asked.

  Naomi wanted to scream. She’d been through these questions the other night and told them all she knew. Why did they keep on asking?

  “Answer the man, Naomi,” Papa instructed.

  She swallowed hard. “I – I’m not sure. I think it was brown, but it could have been black. The man was younger than Papa, but to tell ya the truth, I didn’t pay close attention to much of anything. I’d had a busy morning, and—”

  “That’s just an excuse. You should’ve been payin’ more attention,”

  Papa barked. “You wouldn’t have left Zach on the picnic table if you had been.”

  Will I ever hear the end of this? Does he have to keep reminding me of what I’ve done?

  “I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.” Naomi whirled around and dashed for the house.

  ***

  Caleb entered his house, ever so glad to be home. Leaving Marvin and Andy in charge of the buggy shop was okay for a day or two, but much longer and things might not go well. He knew Andy’s hand was still bandaged after getting that nail stuck in hi
s thumb, so he couldn’t do much to help if they got busy. Marvin sure wasn’t able to do all the work by himself.

  When Caleb first arrived in Lancaster, he’d called Ken Peterson for a ride home; and from the smell that greeted him as he entered the kitchen, Caleb figured he’d arrived in time for breakfast.

  “I’m home,” he called.

  Mom, who stood in front of the stove with her back to him, whirled around. “Caleb! We didn’t expect you for another couple of days.”

  He grinned and hung his straw hat on a wall peg. “Couldn’t stay away from my mom’s great cookin’.”

  She smiled. “You would say something like that.”

  “Caleb always did like to eat,” Levi, his eleven-year-old brother, put in from his place at the table.

  Caleb crossed the room and ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “What would you know about it, huh?”

  Levi chuckled and reached for his glass of milk.

  Caleb glanced around. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Your daed’s in the fields with John and David,” Mom replied. “Andy and Marvin went out to the buggy shop a few minutes ago.”

  “They’ve had breakfast already?”

  “Jah.”

  “And the sisters? Where are they?”

  “Irma and Lettie are down in the cellar gettin’ canning jars. We’ve got a bunch of peas to put up later today.”

  “Thought the peas were done,” Caleb said, taking a seat across from Levi.

  “This is the last picking.”

  “So am I too late for breakfast?”

  “Not a’tall. Haven’t eaten myself yet, and as you can see, Levi’s waitin’ for seconds.”

  Levi patted his stomach. “I’m a growin’ boy.”

  Caleb laughed. “How’s things around here? Everything okay in the buggy shop?”

  Mom set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Caleb and frowned. “Things are okay at our place, but it’s really bad over at the Fishers’ right now.”

  “How so?”

  “Baby Zach’s missing.”

  “What do you mean, Mom? How can the little guy be missin’?”

  “Seems he was kidnapped right out of their yard early Saturday afternoon. Some English man came askin’ for root beer, and they’re sure he’s the one who took him.”

  Caleb’s thoughts flashed to the quilt shop outside of Berlin, Ohio. He’d seen an English couple there with a baby who looked like Zach. Was it possible? Could it be? If there was even a chance...

  Caleb pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “I’ve gotta go, Mom.”

  “What about breakfast?”

  “I can eat something later.”

  “But where are ya off to?”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I’ll explain everything then.” He grabbed his hat and raced out the door before his mother could say another word.

  ***

  Abraham didn’t know how he was going to go about business as usual today, but somehow he must. Staying home and moping around or railing at God for His unfairness wouldn’t bring in any money. It wouldn’t bring Zach home, either.

  He lit the gas lanterns near the front of the store, placed the OPEN sign in the window, and went to the back room to fetch the box of children’s books that needed to be set out. Naomi could tend to any customers coming in, and he would enlist the help of his two youngest daughters with the books. He’d left Samuel home today to work in the fields with the older boys.

  As soon as he and the girls entered the storage room, Abraham spotted Zach’s empty playpen. A sting of pain sliced through his body, and he winced, feeling like he’d been stabbed with a pitchfork. Zach. Zach. Oh, my sweet little boy, how my soul pines for you.

  Nancy and Mary Ann must have noticed the place where Zach had taken so many naps, for they both stood like statues, staring at it.

  “I miss my little brother.” Mary Ann touched the railing of the playpen and whimpered.

  “You think we’ll ever see Zach again, Papa?” Nancy questioned.

  Abraham wished he could offer his daughters some comfort or hope that Zach would be returned. He couldn’t. Not when he knew, short of a miracle, they would never see their precious boppli again.

  “Papa, will Zach come home?”

  Abraham clenched his teeth to keep from snapping at Nancy. Since Saturday night, he’d said too many unkind words and knew his attitude was wrong.

  “I’ll carry this box of books into the next room for you,” he mumbled, “and while you two are settin’ them on the shelf, I’ll come back here and do some rearranging.”

  Nancy and Mary Ann looked at each other, then back at him. Are they expecting me to say more? Maybe offer some reassurance that Zach will be coming home?

  He bent down and lifted the cardboard box into his arms. “Go on now.”

  The girls followed him to the other room, and as soon as they started on the books, he returned to the storage area and shut the door.

  Abraham grabbed the playpen and folded it up. No use leavin’ this out as a reminder of what can’t be undone. With the toe of his boot, he kicked one of the wooden blocks that had fallen out of the playpen along with several other toys. “Besides, it’s only in the way.”

  He shoved the playpen behind some containers against the wall, then grabbed an empty box and tossed all of Zach’s toys inside. As he was finishing that chore, someone knocked.

  “Come in.”

  The door squeaked open, and his friend Jacob Weaver entered the storage room. “The girls said I’d find you in here. What are ya up to?”

  “Cleanin’. Organizin’. Tryin’ to forget.” Abraham flopped onto the cot where he sometimes took a nap, as a feeling of despair washed over him like a drenching rain.

  Jacob’s hazel-colored eyes showed compassion. He took a seat beside Abraham, and in quiet solitude they sat there.

  After several minutes, Jacob cleared his throat. “ ‘O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.’ Psalm eighty-four, verse twelve.”

  Abraham grunted. “Jah, well, the Bible also says, ‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.’” He clasped his hands tightly together. “He’s taken my youngest son, Jacob, and I don’t think Zach’s ever comin’ back.”

  “It wasn’t God who took your boy. It was an English man who was probably desperate and didn’t know right from wrong.”

  “Humph! Everyone knows right from wrong.”

  “Maybe here,” Jacob said as he touched his head, “but not necessarily here.” He laid his hand against his chest.

  Abraham swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I’m thinkin’ you oughta be our next bishop. You always seem to know what to say.”

  Jacob gave a small laugh. “We have a bishop, remember?”

  “Andrew Swartley won’t be around forever. He’s in his eighties now and gettin’ pretty forgetful at times.”

  “Don’t matter how forgetful the man is; as long as he’s alive, he’ll be our bishop.”

  Abraham knew a bishop was chosen by lot and remained the head leader until his death. Still, no one lived forever, and when Andrew Swartley passed on, there would be a need for a new bishop.

  “Never know what the future holds,” Abraham said, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

  “That’s true enough.”

  “If I had known my boy was gonna be kidnapped, I sure would have done things differently.”

  “No one can foresee the future, only God,” Jacob said. “And He can take something bad like Zach’s disappearance and turn it into something good.”

  Abraham groaned. “The only good that’ll ever come outta this would be if Zach is returned to us.”

  ***

  Naomi sat on the wooden stool behind the counter near the front of the store, trying to insert figures from receipts into the ledger. It was hard to concentrate. Hard to think about anything other than Zach. Over the last couple of days, a sense of sadness had pervaded every step she took, every
thought that popped into her head. Her heart felt as dark as the night sky.

  She was glad when Jacob Weaver showed up, asking to see her dad. He and Papa had been close friends for a good many years, and if anyone could help Papa through his grief, it would be Jacob. Sure wish someone could help me with mine.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall across the room. Jacob had been in the storage room with Papa for half an hour already. Wonder what they could be talking about? Jacob must be takin’ a break from his painting business. I’m sure he knows Papa is hurting real bad right now.

  Mary Ann and Nancy had finished unloading the books from the box Papa had brought out, and they’d wanted to ask him what they should do next. Naomi caught them before they knocked on the door, telling the girls they could go outside for a while, as long as they stayed on the front porch. From her spot behind the counter, she could see the entire porch through the window, so if anyone bothered her sisters, she would know about it.

  The front door suddenly swung open, and Caleb rushed in.

  “Naomi, I came as soon as I heard the news.”

  She fought against the urge to dash around the counter and throw herself into Caleb’s arms. His gentle expression gave evidence of his concern, and she felt sure he wouldn’t judge her the way Papa had done.

  Naomi held herself in check and managed a brave smile. “It’s been rough since Zach was kidnapped.”

  “I’m awful sorry it happened, but I think I might have some information that could be helpful.” Caleb stepped closer. “I don’t want to give anyone false hope, but I may have seen Zach.”

  “What? Where?” Naomi’s mouth fell open, and her heart thumped so hard she feared it might burst.

  “Just outside of Berlin, Ohio,” he said. “I went there to look at some buggy parts my cousin was selling.”

  “And?”

  “On Sunday I went for a walk in town before my driver took me to the bus station in Dover.”

  Naomi jumped off the wooden stool and skirted around the counter. “And you saw Zach there? Is that what you’re sayin’, Caleb?”

 

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