From the other room, Emmy stirred in her sleep, giving a small moan and flopping in her bed.
John’s gaze darted to Emmy’s bedroom door.
“I’ll check on her.” Josie jumped up.
“Nee,” John said, grabbing her hand. “You go home to the big house. It’s late.”
“I don’t mind—”
“Josie, it’s late,” John repeated, giving her a pointed look. “I already have to apologize to the deacons for one thing, I don’t want to have to apologize for a second.”
Josie stood still and looked deeply into John’s eyes. She saw the desire there—the love and the affection and the yearning. Without another word, she squeezed his hand, nodded, and went quickly outside and around to the big house.
****
Amanda and Benjamin Crabill left for Linnow Creek the next day. Josie found out when her sisters came home from school.
“They went because of sick kin,” Rachel announced, reaching for a stalk of celery smeared with peanut butter.
“Did not!” Lizzie said. “Penny told Martha who told me that they’ve got troubles. Big troubles.”
Josie opened her mouth to scold her sisters, but Mamm beat her to it.
“Is this pure gossip I’m hearing?” Mamm set down her rolling pin and glared at her daughters.
“I never said a thing,” Susie said.
“If it’s true, it’s not gossip,” Lizzie said. “And Penny told Martha—”
Mamm’s face reddened, and she held up her hand. “Lizzie! That’s enough. I taught you better. Now, I’m thinking you and Rachel both need to spend some time in prayer.”
“Sorry, Mamm,” Lizzie said.
“Jah, me, too,” Rachel said.
“Not me!” Susie chimed in. “I didn’t do a thing!” And with that, she skipped off into the living room, patting Emmy Sue’s head as she passed by.
Mamm shook her head. “That Susie!” she said, her tone exasperated. She wiped her forehead and then went back to rolling out the biscuits, methodically placing the soft circles onto a greased baking sheet.
“Mamm,” Rachel asked, her voice quiet. “You think Benji’s all right? He’s right nice, and I hate to think there’s something wrong.”
Mamm sighed. “Either way, it’s gossip. We’ll just bide our time. If there’s something we need to know, we’ll be told. In the meantime, you can pray for him.”
Josie watched the interchange with a sense of relief. So Amanda and Benji had gotten away. They were safe. A bit later when she heard John come through the front door, she hurried from the kitchen to meet him.
“Dada!” Emmy gave her father a wide grin.
“Emmy girl.” John took Emmy from Josie’s arms. “How was your day, little one?”
“She was precious as always,” Josie said. She tickled Emmy’s pudgy bare foot. “And your daughter took a good long nap.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Josie moved close. “Benji’s gone?”
John nodded and spoke in a low voice. “They left for Linnow Creek today. The bishop came by. I’m to meet with the deacons Sunday next after the preaching service to give my apology. Bishop didn’t see the need to call a special meeting.”
Josie sighed.
John set Emmy down and took his daughter’s hand. “We’ll be in for supper later,” he said. Together, the two of them walked out the door, with John bending considerably to keep Emmy’s hand securely in his.
****
Josie awoke the next day with a sense of apprehension. She padded to the window on her bare feet and peered into the early morning sky. Light was slowly edging out the darkness, but there was still a mysterious unknown quality to the air. Faint evidence of sunlight thickened and grew brighter on the horizon the longer she stood there.
She felt the unease rise to her throat and she swallowed, wondering exactly what is was that was bothering her. Amanda and Benji were safe. John was still teaching in Hollybrook—their uncomfortable rift mended. The matter of John’s apology would be over after the next preaching Sunday.
So what was it?
She shivered and turned from the window, remonstrating herself. Her worry was unfounded and demonstrated a lack of faith. And standing there like a stack of dry wood did nobody any good. She snatched her dress and apron from the peg next to her door and scurried down the hall to the bathroom. Best she get about the chores of the day. She could get quite a little accomplished before John showed up with Emmy Sue and her day began in earnest.
****
Mamm stopped short when she entered the kitchen to find Josie already there, whipping up a batch of pancakes.
“Josie! You already up?”
“Jah. Thought I’d get an early start.”
“You nearly beat your dat.”
Josie knew she hadn’t—both Dat and Thomas were always up well before the sun, completing a good number of outside chores before breakfast was served.
“In any case, thank you kindly, daughter. Takes some of my burden this morning.”
“Mamm,” Josie asked, working to keep her voice level, “have you ever felt nervous or worried for no reason?”
Mamm set the skillet on the stove and regarded Josie. “What is it, daughter? What’s worrying you?”
Josie shrugged. “Nothing really. Yet something seems to be tugging at my mind.”
“You must take it to the Lord Gott,” said Mamm, ever practical. “He’ll watch over you.”
“I know. And I will. I just wondered whether you ever felt unsettled-like.”
“Is it John that has your mind today?”
Josie stopped stirring the batter. John had her mind every day. But this—this was something different.
“It’s all taken care of now, you know,” Josie said. “What we spoke of the other day. Everything is all right.”
Mamm nodded. “Relieved to hear it.” She studied her daughter. “He’s a fine man, is John Beiler.”
Josie glanced at Mamm whose face was lined with understanding. She had an urge to throw her arms around her mother and never let go. She blinked rapidly. What was this? Was she reverting back to her childhood years when just hanging on to Mamm solved everything?
Mamm’s eyes were still on her, and Josie coughed and gave a small laugh. “Goodness, here we are chatting away and the men will be in soon ready to eat.” She turned back to her batter and gave it a few more hard whips.
Four
It was Emmy’s naptime, and Josie sat on the porch of the daadi haus, embroidering a pillowcase for Mary. She’d been working on the set for weeks, wanting something special to give her friend to acknowledge her coming engagement. It wasn’t customary, but she wanted to do it nevertheless. Mary had been a good friend for years, and the thought that she might be moving away after marriage gnawed at Josie like a goat on a wooden post.
She took the tiniest of stitches around a bold sunflower pattern, weaving the light green thread in and out, forming the stem. Her concentration was such that when she finally looked up an hour later, she was surprised to note that the sun had nearly inched its way to the highest point in the sky. She set her embroidery hoop on her lap and stretched her arms above her head. Her back protested a bit and she wiggled her shoulders about, loosening her muscles.
The air was still. Too still. Emmy should have awakened by now and be hollering for her snack. Josie rose, smiling at the thought of Emmy’s cute protests of hunger. She inched open the screen door, not wanting to awaken her if indeed the baby was still asleep. She tiptoed quietly across the floor, her bare feet not making a sound. She pushed Emmy’s bedroom door open and peered inside the room.
The quilt was mussed and mounded into a hill in the middle of the bed and Josie was unable to see the little girl’s face. She crept over the wooden plank floor to the crib and stopped short.
Her heart lurched.
The crib was empty!
Josie stared at the bed, her mind frozen. She leaned forward, her brain not registering
what she was seeing.
“Emmy?” she murmured. “Emmy?”
Her gaze jerked around the room. Emmy can’t climb out of her crib. Nevertheless, Josie fell to her knees and searched under the mattress, panic rising to her throat.
“Emmy!” she called. “Where are you?”
Had Mamm fetched her earlier? Had Josie been so caught up in her sewing that she hadn’t even noticed? She scrambled to her feet and ran through to John’s room. Was Emmy in there? Had she learned how to climb out of her crib that very day? His room stood empty, everything in place, no sign of the little girl. Josie raced outside, her feet pounding the earth as she fled to the big house.
“Mamm!” she cried, bursting through the side door. “Mamm, do you have Emmy?”
Mamm looked up from the stove. “Emmy? Nee. Isn’t she napping?”
“She’s gone, Mamm! Gone!” Josie’s throat nearly closed on the words. In a frenzy, she ran to the front room, searching every corner.
“Emmy!” she cried. “Emmy!”
Mamm caught at Josie, grabbing her shoulders. “Start from the beginning. What happened?” Her voice was strong and quick.
“I put her down, like I always do. I was sitting on the porch embroidering the pillow cases. I went in to check on her, and she was gone!”
Josie tore from her mother’s grip and ran back outside to the daadi haus. “Emmy! Emmy Sue!”
Mamm was on her heels and, together, they raced through Emmy’s bedroom door. Mamm ran to the crib and yanked up the quilt to reveal the empty sheets.
Josie gave the room another frantic search. Her eyes settled on the window. “It’s open!”
Mamm stared at the window.
“It wasn’t open. I never opened it!” Josie ran to the window and shoved it up completely, leaning out. Her eyes roved the stretch of field behind the house. No one. Nothing.
“Someone’s taken Emmy!” she cried. Fear stormed through her stomach and her breath clogged her throat. “She’s gone.”
“I’m going for Malachi!” Mamm turned and fled from the room.
John!
She had to tell John!
Without thinking, she flew out of the daadi haus and dashed across the yard and down the road. The rough asphalt burned against her feet, but she was barely aware of it. She flung open John’s classroom door and stood, disheveled, panting, her face a portrait of fear.
Every student gawked at her, mouths open.
John leapt up from his desk and hurried to her. “What is it? What’s happened?”
She yanked on his arm and pulled him from the room. “It’s Emmy,” she cried, tears choking her. “She’s gone.”
John frowned, his brows coming down over his dark gray eyes. “What do you mean gone?”
Josie pressed her hands to her heart. “I went to get her up. She wasn’t in her crib.” She was sobbing now and could hardly get the words out. “The window was open. She’s gone!”
John gaped at her. Then he flew into action. “I’m leaving!” he called in to his students. “Go next door and tell Miss Platt to take over.”
He grabbed Josie’s hand and they tore out, racing down the street. Josie gasped for air, working her legs hard to keep up with him. When they erupted into the daadi haus, Dat, Thomas, and Mamm stared at them, shock on each face.
John pushed by everyone and went into Emmy’s room. He put his hand to his head. “No, no, no! Who would do this?”
He jerked around to them. “You’ve looked everywhere?”
“We’ve searched all over!” Dat said. “Thomas, check the big house again.”
Thomas gave Josie a pitiful look and rushed out.
“She has to be somewhere!” John cried, his gaze darting over everything in the house.
Josie put her hand on his arm. “John, she can’t get out of the crib on her own. She can’t.” Her voice broke.
“It’s him,” John said, stopping his search, his words hard and angry. “It’s Ezra.”
“Ezra?” Mamm put her hand to her mouth.
“That’s a strong accusation,” Dat said.
“It’s him.” John glanced at Josie, and she saw the desperation there. He grabbed Dat’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Sarah, get the bishop. Now.”
And they were gone.
Josie stood in the middle of the room, trembling. She held her stomach, feeling that she would vomit. “Mamm, it’s my fault. I should have watched her better.” She moaned. “Ach, poor Emmy Sue.”
“Laying blame won’t bring the boppli back.” Mamm glanced at Josie. “Get your shoes. We’ll go to the bishop.”
“I can’t leave. What if Ezra comes back with her?” Josie shook her head. “I’m not going. I can’t!”
“You stay then. I’ll hitch the wagon and be off.”
Josie ran to the barn with Mamm to help with the hitching.
“Nee!” Mamm cried. “The men took the wagon. Help me get the buggy. Hurry, Josie!”
They worked to hitch Mango to the buggy, but the plow horse was none too pleased. He fought them until Josie yanked on his halter and pulled his head to hers. “Stop fighting this instant!” she demanded. “You’re gettin’ hitched and that’s all there is to it.”
Her voice was fierce, and the horse neighed and stomped his foot one more time before he stopped resisting. They got him hitched, and Mamm was gone.
Josie watched her go, alarm roaring through her mind. Would Ezra hurt Emmy like he’d hurt Benji? Did he really have the little girl? What was he hoping to prove?
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry, John, she breathed. Get to Ezra’s. Find Emmy. Bring her home.
The waiting was intolerable. At every sound, Josie jumped and searched the road for signs of someone’s return. Anyone’s. Never had the stretch of road been so deserted. So silent.
Thomas emerged from the house, shaking his head. “She’s not there, Josie. I checked every single corner.” He squeezed her shoulder and then ran to the fields to continue searching there. Josie paced over the dirt driveway, her feet stirring up dust, beseeching God for his help. She forced herself to breathe more slowly. She forced herself to think of the Lord and His goodness.
She was a woman of faith. God was there.
He’s here. He’s here. He hears my pleas.
A minute later, she saw the family wagon approaching from a distance. Dat was driving Dover hard. Josie didn’t wait for them to enter the yard. She raced out to them, and Dat pulled on the reins.
John’s face told her all she needed to know.
Her heart fell.
“The place is deserted.” John’s face was ashen.
“Bishop here yet?” Dat asked.
“Nee, but Mamm has gone for him.”
She ran beside the wagon as Dat pulled it into the drive and secured the reins. Both men climbed down.
“The police?” John asked. “We should call?”
Dat pressed his lips into a tight line. “Nee. We’ll ask Bishop. He’ll advise us.”
John ran his hand through his hair. “We’ll ask. I’ll agree to that. Then I go to the Englisch police no matter what the bishop says. I’m checking the daadi haus again.” He strode off across the yard.
Josie followed him, her heart in her throat.
John stood in the middle of the front room looking lost and helpless, his hands hanging limply by his sides.
“She’s gone, Josie,” he said and his voice caught with a sob. He grabbed her to him and held on as if his very life were draining away.
“I’m sorry!” Josie wept with him. “It’s my fault. I was caring for her.”
He thrust her from him, holding her by the shoulders. “It is not your fault. It’s not.”
Josie shook her head. But it was. Emmy had been in her care. But seeing the fear in John’s eyes, she shoved her guilt aside. “We’ll find her. We’ll get her back. We will.”
Josie heard another wagon coming,
and thinking it was Mamm and the bishop, she ran back outside and around to the front, John passing her with his long strides.
Josie stopped short when she saw Mary waving from her buggy.
“Hey, Josie!” she called, then seeing everyone rush to meet her, her eyes went huge. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Emmy’s gone!” Josie cried.
“What do you mean gone?”
“We think Ezra Crabill took her.”
Mary shook her head, her face creasing with confusion. “What?”
“He took her,” Josie said. “We can’t find them.”
“I’m going to check again around the barn,” John told her and took off running.
Mary jumped from her wagon and grabbed Josie’s arm. “Start over. What happened?”
With jerking sentences, Josie filled her in. John raced back, empty-handed, breathing hard, his lips pressed in a tight line.
“Ezra’s missing? Hiding somewhere with the baby?” Mary asked.
“Jah. That’s what we think.”
“If the bishop isn’t here in three minutes, I’m going to the phone shanty to call the police,” John said, his voice terse.
“You’ve checked Ezra’s house, his barn, his fields?” Mary asked.
“Of course we have!” John snapped. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Mary waved her hand. “No need for apologies.”
Josie’s mind raced over every place Ezra might hide. “Did you check the bridge? Courting couples sometimes meet to talk under the west end. There’s ample hiding room there.”
“We checked,” Dat said. “On the way to Ezra’s.”
“There’s a million places to hide,” Thomas said.
Josie shot him a desperate look and then her breath caught. A thought roared into her mind and a knowing filled her with such force she thought she’d burst. She clenched Mary’s shoulder.
“When your cousin Jack ran away—you and Josiah were trapped during the ice storm. Remember? Where was that? The Miller place?”
Mary’s face lit up. “Jah! The old Miller barn! A perfect place to hide!”
John was already running toward the wagon.
“Nee!” called Mary. “I know where it is! Get in! I’ll take you!”
Amish Days: A Desperate Act: An Amish Romance Short Story (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 4
