“No,” Naomi admitted. “Truth is, I haven’t been able to do much of anything since then.”
“What I want to know is, what kind of maniac would drive onto an Amish farm and snatch a baby right out from under his family’s nose?”
Naomi drew in a deep breath and almost choked on her words. “I don’t know, but it’s my fault Zach was taken, and Papa is furious with me.”
“Why’s it your fault?”
“The man who stopped by for root beer asked if I had any that was cold.” She gulped. “I was going to get him some from the refrigerator when I heard one of the girls scream. So I raced to the house, leaving Zach on the picnic table. When I returned, the man was gone, and so was Zach.”
Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding?”
Naomi shook her head. “If Zach isn’t found, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself, and Papa sure won’t.”
“He’s upset right now, but I’m sure in time he’ll realize something like that could have happened to anyone.”
“I didn’t leave the boppli there on purpose; surely Papa must know that.”
Ginny’s clear blue eyes seemed full of understanding. “Of course you didn’t.”
“I’d had such a busy morning, and I just wasn’t thinking.”
Ginny nodded. “I understand. You’re overloaded with too many responsibilities and can’t do them all. If your dad would hire a maid and give you some time to yourself, you could probably function a whole lot better.”
Naomi sniffed and blew her nose on a tissue she’d pulled from under the counter.
“You know what I think you need?”
“Uh-uh.”
“You need to get away for a while and do something fun.” Ginny smiled. “Why don’t you make up some excuse to leave the store for a couple hours and sneak away with me to see a movie? It might help take your mind off your troubles.”
“I can’t. Papa’s headed to Ohio today, and that leaves me fully in charge.”
Ginny’s pale eyebrows lifted. “Ohio? Why’d he go there?”
Naomi explained about Caleb’s recent trip and what he’d seen outside the quilt shop near Berlin. “Papa thinks if he talks to the shop owner, he might learn something about the couple with the baby who looked like Zach.”
Ginny tapped her pink, perfectly manicured fingernails along the edge of the counter. “Maybe the man who stole your little brother lives in Ohio. If your dad gets a lead on him and calls the cops, you could have Zach home real soon.”
Naomi managed a weak smile. “I hope so, Ginny. Jah, I truly do.”
CHAPTER 16
Fannie opened the front door of her shop and held it for Abby, whose arms were full of quilting material.
Abby stepped inside. “Thank you, Mom. I’ll put these on the shelves in the back.”
Fannie was about to reply when she heard footsteps on the stairs behind her. She turned around quickly and nearly bumped into a tall, middle-aged Amish man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She didn’t recognize him and figured he was probably from another district.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m lookin’ for the owner of this quilt shop.”
She smiled. “That would be me. I’m Fannie Miller.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve got some questions.”
“About quilting? Are ya lookin’ to buy a quilt?”
He glanced around, kind of nervouslike. “Don’t need no quilts. Would it be all right if I came inside?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Fannie stepped into the shop, and she knew he was right behind her, for she could hear the clomp clomp of his boots against the wooden floor.
“I was here yesterday evening, but you were closed for the day,” the man said.
“Must have been after six.”
“Jah. My bus didn’t get in ’til seven, then it took me some time to get a driver and make my way over here.” He removed his straw hat, and Fannie was amazed at how thick and shiny his brown hair appeared to be. Not a sign of gray, either, although his full beard had a sprinkling in it.
She moved toward the counter where they waited on customers, and he followed. “If you’re not here about a quilt, what can I help you with?”
He gave his beard a couple of pulls. “I heard there was an English couple outside your store on Sunday. Since your shop was closed that day, they said they’d be back Monday morning to buy a quilt.”
“Who’d they say it to?”
“The man told the woman, and Caleb Hoffmeir, the young buggy maker from my district in Lancaster County, was walking by and heard their conversation.”
“I see.”
“So, I’m wonderin’ if they did come to your store on Monday.”
Fannie smiled. “Lots of English come here, Mr.—”
“Abraham. Abraham Fisher.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “The English couple had a little boy. Would have been about a year old.”
“Hmm ... let me think.” Fannie tried to picture some of the customers she’d had yesterday. It had been a busy day, full of tourists, as well as several of her regular customers.
“Please, try to remember. This is awful important.”
Fannie took a seat on the wooden stool and tried to concentrate. “Do you know this English couple?”
He shook his head. “No, but when Caleb told me he’d seen them, I bought a bus ticket and came right here.”
“Could you explain things better, Abraham? Why would you be so interested in an English couple with a baby, who you don’t even know?”
Abraham clasped his hands tightly together. “I live near Paradise, Pennsylvania, and my baby was kidnapped out of my yard on Saturday afternoon.”
Fannie’s heart clenched. She could hardly fathom such a horrible thing. “I’m so sorry. You and your wife must be frantic with worry.”
“My Sarah died a little over a year ago when she was hit by a car. Our baby, Zach, was only two months old at the time.”
Fannie could almost feel the man’s grief. “I lost my husband when he had a heart attack two years ago, so I sympathize with your loss.”
He paced back and forth in front of the counter. “Losin’ Sarah was hard enough, but now that I’ve lost my boppli, too, the pain’s nearly unbearable.”
“I can imagine.”
“Caleb Hoffmeir said the boy with the English couple looked like my Zach.” He grimaced. “I’m thinkin’ maybe they could be the ones who kidnapped him.”
Fannie clasped her hands. “You must be beside yourself with worry.”
He nodded. “If you could help me on this, I’d be much obliged.”
She drew in a deep breath and tried to focus her thoughts. “Let’s see now ... Mary Zook and her sister Catherine came in first thing Monday morning. They bought some material for a new quilt they wanted to start. And then a young English mother and her daughter stopped by.” Fannie smiled. “They live in the area and are regular customers.”
Abraham’s eyebrows furrowed deep into the folds of his forehead. She could tell he was growing impatient and wanted some answers.
Fannie licked her lips. “After Carol and her daughter left, about ten women arrived. I think they were with a tour bus.”
When Abraham made no comment, she continued. “Then later, around lunchtime, an English couple came in, asking to buy a queen-sized quilt.” She snapped her fingers. “Say, they did have a little boy. Fact is, I couldn’t get over how sweet he was. Cute as could be and seemed to be quite even tempered. Never fussed a bit the whole time they were here.”
Abraham leaned across the counter until she could actually feel his warm breath on her face. “What’d the boy look like? How old would you say he was? Did he have a Dutch bob?”
Fannie sat up straight and moved away from Abraham. It made her nervous to have him breathing on her that way. “I’d guess he was around a year or so, and he had such pretty hair—golden brown, I’d say it was. Don’t know if it
was Dutch bobbed or not, though. It was slicked back away from his face.”
“And his eyes? What color were the boppli’s eyes?”
“Brown. Dark brown, like chocolate.”
Abraham’s breathing intensified. “Did ya get a look behind his right ear?”
She shook her head. “Can’t say that I did. Why do you ask?”
“Zach has a small heart-shaped birthmark there.”
Fannie rubbed her forehead and tried to get a better picture of the little boy in her mind. “I’m sorry to say, but I didn’t notice behind his ear. Fact of the matter is, I was more concerned with showin’ the woman the right color quilts than anything else.”
“Did they buy a quilt?” he asked.
“Jah. Got a nice Lone Star pattern with shades of blue.”
“Did you happen to get their names?”
“No, but I heard the woman call the man ‘Jim’ a couple of times.”
“No last name?”
She shook her head.
“If they bought a quilt, you must have made out a receipt.”
“I did, but they paid cash, so I had no reason to get their name and address.” Fannie frowned. “Funny thing, though, I did ask ’em once where they were from, and the man only said they were here visiting family.”
“Did you get a look at the car they were drivin’? Maybe the color or license plate?”
“Sorry, but another customer came in as they were leaving, so my attention was turned to her. Truth is, I never saw the Englishers’ car.”
Abraham groaned. “And that’s all you know?”
“Afraid so.” Fannie skirted around the counter. “Sure wish there was more I could do to help. I know this must be awful frustrating for you.”
Abraham rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Don’t know how I’m gonna return home and tell the family I came all this way for nothin’.”
“I’ll be praying for you, Abraham.” She paused. “You said you live near Paradise, right?”
He nodded.
“I’ve got a cousin who lives near that area, and she’s been after me to spend some time with her this summer.”
“You should do it. Lancaster County is a right nice place to visit.”
“Jah, I’ve been there before, but not in many years.”
“If you do get over our way, feel free to stop by my store and say hello. It’s called Fisher’s General Store and is located just outside the town of Paradise.”
“I might do that. I’d like to see how things are, and I pray by then you’ll have found your boy.”
He smiled, but she could tell it was forced. The creases in Abraham’s forehead gave indication that he was deeply troubled. “I’m prayin’ for the same thing,” he said, turning toward the front door. “Thanks for being willing to speak with me, and I’m sorry for takin’ up so much of your time.”
She followed him to the door. “It was no trouble. I only wish I had more information to give.”
“You told me what you knew, and I appreciate it.” Abraham pulled the door open and stepped onto the porch. “Good day to you, Fannie Miller.”
“Da Herr sei mit du—the Lord be with you,” she said in return.
“Who was that man?” Abby asked when Fannie shut the door. “I stayed at the back of the store because I could see you two were in deep conversation.”
Fannie nodded. “He was askin’ about an English couple who bought a quilt yesterday.”
Abby tipped her head. “Mind if I ask why?”
“The man and woman had a little boy, and someone who knows Abraham Fisher saw them outside our store on Sunday.” She pursed her lips. “Seems Abraham’s boppli was kidnapped off his farm Saturday afternoon, and the young fellow who noticed the English couple window-shoppin’ thought their child looked like Abraham’s boy.”
Abby’s dark eyes revealed her usual compassion. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine such a thing.”
“Me neither.” Fannie sighed. “Sure wish there was something I could have said to make Abraham feel better. He seemed so distraught over the disappearance of his son.”
“You can pray for him, Mom. Pray the people who took his baby will come to their senses and return the boy home.”
Fannie gently squeezed her daughter’s arm. “You’re sure a smart one; ya know that?”
Abby smiled. “Well, what can I say? I’m only followin’ in my dear mamm’s footsteps.”
***
Abraham figured there was probably no use in him hanging around Berlin. If he had a lick of sense, he’d catch the next bus home and be done with it. Still, he had a strong feeling the English couple who visited Fannie’s Quilt Shop yesterday were the ones who took Zach. At least the man. Naomi never mentioned anything about a woman being involved. Of course, she’d been so befuddled that day she didn’t seem to remember much of anything.
He meandered down the sidewalk, heading for the other side of town. Might as well take a look around, just in case those people are still in town.
For the next couple of hours, Abraham wandered up and down the streets of Berlin, looking inside stores, checking out every English person he saw. He scrutinized each car parked along the street, as well as those passing by. He saw lots of English people, many with children. None looked like Zach, however.
“It’s hopeless,” he mumbled. “Might as well head back to Henry’s Buggy Shop and ask him to call someone to take me to the bus station in Dover.”
Abraham turned and started down the street in the direction of Henry’s place, which was about a mile out of town. Henry had dropped him off this morning, saying he’d be happy to come back for Abraham if he knew what time and where he wanted to be picked up. Abraham declined the offer, telling Caleb’s cousin the walk would do him good.
As he plodded along, Abraham noticed he was coming to Fannie’s Quilt Shop again. He fought the urge to go inside and ask a few more questions. That would be dumb, he decided. Fannie said she didn’t know anything more.
Feeling a muscle in his back begin to cramp, Abraham took a seat on the wooden bench outside the quilt shop. He’d rest awhile before continuing his journey to the buggy shop. While he sat, he would watch every car going past and check each person who walked by.
Maybe if he begged God hard enough, his prayer would be answered. He leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands. Please, Lord, let it be so.
Time passed, and Abraham continued to watch and pray. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but the touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder jolted him upright.
“Abraham, are you all right?”
He turned his head. Fannie Miller stood behind him, her hazel-colored eyes looking so sincere. Two little wisps of dark brown hair had escaped her white covering. He ignored the sudden urge to push them back in place.
“I – I’m okay,” he sputtered. “Just sat down for a spell to rest my back. Guess I lost track of time, ’cause from the way that sun feels, I’d have to say it’s past noon.”
Fannie nodded. “My daughter just finished her lunch break, and I was lookin’ to take mine. Took a quick glance out front before I did and saw you sitting here.” She moved around to stand beside the bench. “I was worried about you.”
“It’s nice of you to be concerned,” he replied. “I’ve been walkin’ up and down the streets of Berlin all morning with the hope of spotting the English couple I told you about.”
She stared down at him, compassion evident on her round face. “I take it you saw no one with a child who looked like your son?”
He shook his head.
“Have you had lunch?” she asked suddenly.
“Naw, I wasn’t in the mood to eat.”
“How would you like to share my lunch? There’s a picnic table under a maple tree behind the store, and I’d be glad to have you join me.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“It’s no bother.” She chuckled and patted her stomach. “I packed way too much food
this mornin’, and you might save me a few added inches if you share it with me.”
He smiled in spite of his dismal mood. “Jah, okay. I’d be happy to then.”
“Let’s go into the store first,” Fannie said. “My lunch basket’s there, and we can go out the back door.” She led, and he followed.
There was a young woman with dark brown hair cutting a piece of material at one of the tables near the back of the store. She was younger than Fannie and several pounds lighter, but he could tell they were related.
“This is my daughter, Abby,” Fannie said as they approached the young woman. “Abby, this is Abraham Fisher from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.”
Abby looked up from her work and smiled. She had a dimple in her right cheek, just like her mother’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Abraham. Mom told me you were here earlier, asking about an English couple with a little boy who looked like your son.”
A renewed sense of hope welled up in his chest. “Do you remember them? Did you get any information about who they were or where they were goin’?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, no. I was outside havin’ lunch when the couple came in. Mom told me about it later.”
He released a heavy sigh. “Sure wish someone knew something.”
“God knows, Abraham,” Fannie said sincerely. “I’m sure He feels your pain.”
She held up a wicker basket. “I’ve got our food right here. You ready?”
He nodded. “Ready and feelin’ hungrier by the minute.”
For the next half hour, Abraham and Fannie got better acquainted as he told her about his family and the way it had been since Sarah’s death. He was amazed at how understanding and sweet she was, offering words of encouragement and saying she would keep him and his family in her prayers.
Fannie shared a bit about her life, too: how she’d only been able to have two children—a boy, now married, and Abby, who helped at the quilt shop.
Abraham studied Fannie as she sat on the other side of the picnic table smiling at him. Too bad there aren’t any widows like you in my area, he mused. If so, I might change my mind about gettin’ married again.
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