The Storekeeper's Daughter
Page 16
“Have you tried talking to him about things? Explain the way you feel and all?”
“No. I doubt it would do much good. Papa’s always been pretty closemouthed about his feelings, and this thing with Zach has put a barrier between us that might never come down.” She released a heavy sigh. “Truth is, it’s affected the whole family. None of the kinner acts the same toward me anymore.”
“Sorry to hear that, Naomi. Wish there was somethin’ I could do to make your life more pleasant.”
“I’m afraid there isn’t much anyone can do. What we need is a miracle—to have Zach come home.”
Caleb continued to push the swing back and forth. The musical rhythm of singing crickets filled the night air, and for a few moments, Naomi felt a sense of peace, as though it had permeated the air she breathed.
“Naomi, will you continue to see me like this—after it’s dark and everyone’s asleep?” Caleb asked.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. How she wanted to say yes, but what would be the point in leading Caleb on? If they began to secretly court, soon he’d be talking of marriage, and she knew that was impossible. Papa would never give his consent. She had a responsibility to the family, a promise to Mama that must be fulfilled. Naomi had already messed up by allowing her busyness to cloud her thinking. She sure couldn’t allow thoughts of love and romance to lead her astray.
“Naomi?”
She jerked her head. “Jah?”
“What have you got to say about me comin’ by like this again?”
Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but her words were cut off.
“Net—never!”
Naomi swiveled around. There stood Papa, his arms crossed and his face a mask of anger. He’d looked at her the same way the day Zach was kidnapped.
Papa turned to face Caleb. “I give you a foot, and you take three yards! What’s the meaning of all this huggin’ and kissin’ going on behind my back?”
“Papa, we weren’t. Caleb just came by so we could talk.”
“Humph! I know all about the thoughts on a young man’s mind, and the buggy maker didn’t come here in the middle of the night to talk!”
“That’s not true, Abraham. I only wanted to speak with Naomi about her and me courtin’.”
Papa smacked his hands together, and Naomi jumped right off the swing. “I thought I made myself clear on that subject awhile back. Naomi’s not courtin’ you or anyone else. She’s needed here. Plain and simple.” He pointed at the house while he glared at Naomi. “Get on to your room. We’ll discuss this more in the morning.”
He turned to face Caleb. “And you’d better get back in your buggy and head for home!”
A sob caught in Naomi’s throat, but she did as her father commanded. Was there never to be any peace in this family? Would she ever be free from her guilt or experience the joys others her age felt when they were courted by some special fellow?
***
“Have you got the baby’s car seat? I don’t want to leave it in the car, where someone might steal it,” Linda called as Jim was about to close the garage door.
He clenched his teeth. The whole time they’d been in Ohio visiting his folks, Linda had been overprotective of Jimmy, barely allowing Mom and Dad to hold the baby. On their trip home, she’d insisted on sitting in the backseat with him. Now she was acting paranoid over the boy’s car seat. What next?
“Linda, it’s not likely someone’s going to break into our garage, get into the locked car, and steal a kid’s car seat, for pity’s sake.”
She stood at the door leading to the house and frowned. It was that “I want my way, and I’ll cry if I don’t get it” kind of scowl she had learned so well.
They had been driving all day, it was almost nine o’clock, and Jim was too tired to argue. “Fine. Whatever.”
Jim opened the back door of the van and unhooked the car seat. He lifted it out, set it on the concrete floor, and went around to open the hatch in order to get their luggage. In the process, he spotted a piece of the baby quilt sticking out of his toolbox. He glanced at the house. Linda had already gone inside with Jimmy.
“Whew! I’ve gotta ditch this thing.” He opened the toolbox, withdrew the quilt, and headed into the room adjoining the garage, where he kept some of his painting supplies.
“Don’t know why I didn’t throw this silly quilt out when we were in Pennsylvania.” Yet even now, Jim had no inclination to permanently dispose of the small blanket. It was weird, the way he felt when he looked at the little quilt. Jim knew if he threw it away, he’d be getting rid of the last shred of evidence to link him with the kidnapping of an Amish baby. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to throw the colorful blanket away.
Maybe later, he decided. After Jimmy’s older and I feel more like he actually belongs to Linda and me.
Jim grabbed the canvas bag where he kept his paint rags and stuffed the quilt deep inside. Linda never went into his shop, so there was no danger of her discovering the quilt there.
A short time later, he was inside the house. He’d brought in their luggage, as well as the car seat. “Where do you want this thing?” he called to Linda, who had gone into the living room with the baby.
“How about the hall closet?”
“Sure, okay.”
When Jim stepped into the room, he saw Linda sitting on the floor in front of the couch, and Jimmy stood by the coffee table, holding onto the edge. The child pivoted toward Linda, let go, and took two steps forward.
“He’s walking!” Linda shouted. “Jim, our little boy took his first steps!”
Jim smiled at his wife’s exuberance. She was going to make a great mother, and he’d done a good thing by providing her with the chance.
I s ure wish there were some way I could notify the baby’s family that he’s safe and in good hands. If my child disappeared, I’d be worried and wondering if he was okay. That was another part of this whole thing that bothered Jim. How was the boy’s family taking his disappearance? Jim had made an impulsive decision when he’d grabbed Jimmy off that picnic table. At the time, he hadn’t felt much remorse. Truth was, when the adoption fell through, taking the baby seemed like an answer to his problem. He also convinced himself that he’d done the Amish family a favor. There were eight kids, the young woman had said. That’s too many for anyone to raise, let alone a man with no wife.
“He’s doing it again!” Linda’s excited voice drove Jim’s thoughts to the back of his mind.
He smiled as the baby took two more steps, flopped onto the floor, and giggled.
Jim leaned over and helped Jimmy to his feet. “There you go, little guy. Let’s see if you can take a couple more steps before we call it a night.” He held the boy’s chubby hands and walked him a few feet from where Linda sat. “Trot on over to your mommy. Come on, I know you can do it.”
He let go, and the baby toddled toward Linda’s extended arms. She grabbed him in a hug. “Good job, Jimmy! That’s my big boy.
“He’s certainly adjusted well, don’t you think?” she said, looking up at Jim. “It’s as though he’s always been ours.”
He nodded and took a seat on the couch.
“When did you say the papers should arrive?”
“What papers?”
“His birth certificate and the final adoption papers.”
“I told you before, they’re being sent to my paint shop, where I plan to put them in our safe.”
“I trust you to take care of everything, just like you always have,” she said sweetly.
“I do my best.” Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Thanks for the reminder, Linda. I’d better see about getting some phony papers drawn up—and soon.
“I think I’m going to take this little fellow to his new room. It’s been another long day of travel, and he’s probably ready for bed.” Linda yawned. “For that matter, I’m ready to call it a night, too.”
“I’ll put the suitcases in our rooms, and then
I’m gonna give my foreman a call and see what he’s got lined up for tomorrow.”
“Oh, Jim, I hope you’re not planning to go back to work right away.”
“I’ve got to, Linda. My business won’t run itself.”
“But I thought you’d want to rest a few days and spend some quality time with me and Jimmy.”
“We’ll do something fun over the weekend. I don’t have the luxury of taking any more time off to rest.”
She sighed. “All you ever do is work. Sometimes I think you care more about your painting business than you do me.”
His face heated. “What do you mean? I just spent three weeks with you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“And I made sure you got the Amish quilt you’ve always wanted. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Of course it does, but things don’t make up for time spent with those you love.” Linda kissed the top of Jimmy’s head. “I can’t believe how much love I feel for this little guy already.”
Jim stood and went to her side. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, Linda.” He bent to kiss her cheek. Enough to steal an Amish baby so you could be a mother.
“I know, and I love you, too. Guess I’m just tired and not quite ready to let go of our vacation.”
“I understand.” He took hold of the baby’s chubby hand. “Let’s get Jimmy settled in, then we can take a dip in the hot tub and head for our room.”
Her eyes widened. “You want me to leave him alone on his first night?”
“Well, I thought—”
“Jim, he might be frightened sleeping in his new crib. And what if he wakes up during the night and needs me?”
Jim massaged his forehead. “You’re not planning to sleep in the kid’s room, I hope.”
She nodded. “I thought maybe I’d sleep on an air mattress. Just for tonight, of course.”
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you want to do.” He grabbed the suitcases and trudged up the hall behind her.
CHAPTER 19
By the middle of August, Naomi felt defeated. The days were longer, the work was harder, the children became more difficult, and Papa seemed crankier than ever. Naomi was irritable, too; and no matter how many times she said, “I love you” or “I’m sorry for snapping,” her siblings still acted as though she shouldn’t be the person in charge.
Except for Sunday services, Naomi hadn’t seen or spoken to Caleb since the night her daed caught them under the maple tree. Papa had made it clear when he spoke to her the next morning that she could not be courted by Caleb or anyone else.
Naomi leaned against the wooden counter and groaned. A little boy and his mother had just left the store. Every time Naomi saw a child about Zach’s age, she thought of him. It had been two months since her little brother had been kidnapped, and in all that time, the police hadn’t had any leads. Since there was nothing to go on, Naomi was sure they had quit looking.
She clutched the notebook lying in front of her. After this much time, we may as well give up on the idea of Zach ever coming home. If that English man was gonna bring our boppli back, he would have done so by now. All we can do is hope and pray Zach’s okay.
The bell above the front door jingled, and in walked Ginny Meyers. Naomi’s gaze darted to the back of the store, where Papa and the girls were stocking shelves. The last thing she needed was for him to see her talking with Ginny. He’d made it clear he didn’t care much for the young English woman, and he didn’t like Naomi talking to her.
“Hey, how are you?” Ginny asked, leaning across the counter.
“Haven’t been able to get away from the restaurant much lately, and I’ve missed our little visits.”
Naomi sighed. “Things are pretty much the same around here.”
“No news on Zach?”
“Not a word.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Ginny leaned closer. “Can you meet me for lunch today? We can talk better if we’re away from here.”
Naomi turned her head toward the back of the store. She could only see Mary Ann and Nancy. Papa must have gone to the storage room for more boxes. “I—I don’t see how I could get away.”
“Tell your dad you want to go for a walk or something. Say you’re bringing your lunch and will eat it somewhere along the way.” Ginny smiled, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll meet you in the park at noon.”
Naomi’s hands grew sweaty. She hadn’t done anything so bold since she crept out of the house to see what Caleb wanted. What if someone saw her with Ginny and told her father? And what about the girls? Would Papa mind her leaving them at the store with him while she went off by herself for a while?
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see if I can get away,” she whispered. “If I’m not there by twelve fifteen, you’ll know I’m not coming.”
Ginny winked. “Fair enough. See you soon.” Her long, blond hair hung down her back this morning, and it swished back and forth as she swaggered toward the front door. Naomi couldn’t help but wonder how she would feel if she could let her hair down in public. She’d been thinking about the English world a lot lately. The worse things got at home, the more appeal the modern world had for her. If she were English and not Amish, she’d be allowed to do more—probably wouldn’t have so many brothers and sisters to look after, either.
The door closed behind Ginny, and Naomi took up her work again. She had to make a list of things they needed to order. Papa would be expecting it to be ready by the time he was done at the back of the store.
Half an hour later, Naomi was finished, and just in time.
“Have ya got that list done yet?” Papa asked as he stepped behind the counter and peered over her shoulder.
She lifted the tablet and without turning around handed it to him. “Say, Papa, I was wonderin’ if it would be all right if I take my lunch pail and go for a walk. I sure could use some fresh air.”
“Humph! The thermometer in the window shows it’s almost ninety outside. Most likely the humidity’s at ninety percent, too. Nothin’ refreshing ’bout that.”
She nodded. “I know, but it seems even hotter inside the store.”
“Jah, well, I don’t mind if ya eat your lunch outside, but you’ll have to take the girls along.”
Naomi swiveled on the stool. “Why can’t they stay here with you? Won’t you be needing their help if a bunch of customers shows up?”
Papa gave his beard a quick tug and stared over the top of her head, refusing to make eye contact. “Guess you’ve got a point.”
“I can go then?”
He nodded curtly. “Don’t be gone long. I’ve got some errands to run later, and I can’t leave Nancy and Mary Ann in charge of the store while I’m gone.”
“I won’t be late. I promise.”
***
Jim entered the house through the garage door. He and his crew had started painting an apartment complex nearby, and Jim thought he’d swing by the house and get a couple jugs of iced tea. They were having unusually warm weather here in the Northwest, even for the middle of August. The last thing he needed was for any of the guys to keel over with heat exhaustion.
“Linda, I’m home for a few minutes!” he called.
When there was no response, he headed down the hall to their room. He discovered Linda asleep on the bed with Jimmy curled up next to her. At the foot of the bed was a stack of things they’d picked up on their trip to the East Coast in June.
He tiptoed out of the room. No point in waking Linda or the baby. Besides, he needed to get some aspirin from the medicine cabinet. He had another headache and wondered if it was from the heat. The guy on the radio said the temperature had reached almost eighty degrees. It was only eight o’clock in the morning, so Jim figured it might be in the high nineties later in the day.
When he emerged from the bathroom a short time later, Linda and Jimmy were still asleep. Jim scooped up the brochures and headed for the kitchen. He was surprised after all this time that Lind
a hadn’t thrown the stuff away.
Jim grabbed two jugs of iced tea from the refrigerator and decided to take the time to pour himself a glass. His painting crew was already hard at work, and he figured he could take a few minutes before heading back to the job site.
Dropping into a chair at the table, he flipped through the stack of magazines and other papers. A newspaper called The Budget was at the bottom of the pile. It was published in Sugarcreek, Ohio, for the Amish and Mennonites. Jim discovered there were numerous articles written by Plain people all over the nation. There was even a want-ad section. Hmm ... this might be a way I could let Jimmy’s family know he’s okay.
Jim jotted down the address and information needed to place an ad and stuck it inside his shirt pocket. He’d get something drafted soon and send it off. Better not mail it from here, though. Don’t want to take the chance of anyone tracing its origin.
Jim decided he would write up the announcement tomorrow, and when they went to Boise next weekend to see Linda’s folks, he’d take the ad and mail it from there, along with cash. I’m not dumb enough to send a check, that’s for sure.
“What are you doing home, Jim? I thought you were at work.”
Jim jumped up, dropping The Budget to the floor. “Don’t scare me like that, Linda.”
“Sorry. I thought you heard us come into the room.”
She held the baby, and Jimmy smiled and said, “Da-Da-Da.”
“Yep, that’s me. I’m your daddy, little guy.” Jim extended his arms, and the child went willingly to him.
“What are you doing with all our vacation stuff?” Linda asked.
“I—uh—found the brochures at the foot of our bed and thought I’d take a look.” He sat down at the table, balancing Jimmy on one knee. “I was surprised to see all this stuff. Figured by now you’d have thrown out the junk you brought home from our trip.”
She wrinkled her nose and took the seat across from him. “It’s not junk, Jim. There’s a lot of interesting things about the Amish in those brochures.” She bent over and picked up The Budget. “Look, there’s even an Amish newspaper.”