The Bishop's Daughter

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Lydia watched Abner climb into his buggy and drive away, and then she turned to Jacob and said, “Er is en erschtaunlicher mann—he’s an astonishing man. He seems a bit shy, but he’s sure devoted to his family, and in my estimation, that says a whole lot.” She sighed. “I know it’s probably too soon for Leona to think about courting, but maybe in the days ahead, she and Abner will get together.”

  Jacob grinned and reached for her hand. “That’s what I’ve been thinkin’, too.”

  When Leona opened the schoolhouse door, about to empty the bucket of water she’d used to clean the floor, she was surprised to see Abner Lapp climb down from his buggy. She had been so busy scrubbing that she hadn’t heard him drive up.

  “I stopped by your house to see you,” he called, “but your mamm said you were over here.”

  She set the bucket on the porch. “Jah, I’m doing a bit of cleaning.”

  He stepped onto the porch and removed his straw hat. “I thought a group of parents would be doin’ that.”

  She nodded. “Several are planning to come by in the next week or so to help with some other cleaning and repairs, but I thought as long as I was here I’d do a few things on my own.”

  “I see.” Abner shuffled his boots a couple of times and stared down at the porch. “Wanted to tell you that Emanuel’s been sayin’ he doesn’t want to attend school next term.” He leaned against the porch railing and folded his arms. “But your daed said he’d have a talk with him, so that might be enough. I sure don’t want to have to force the boy to go, but I will if it becomes necessary.”

  If you think Papa speaking to Emanuel will be enough, then what are you doing here? Leona wondered as a sense of irritation rose in her chest. Did Papa send Abner out to the schoolhouse in the hopes of getting the two of us together?

  Before Leona could comment, Abner spoke again. “I wasn’t going to bother you with this, since your daed gave his offer to help, but I wanted you to know what’s going on, too.”

  She pursed her lips. Emanuel had given her a few problems after his daed died, and though she knew the boy didn’t like to study, she’d had no idea he disliked school so much that he didn’t want to come back for the next term. “Maybe it’s me Emanuel doesn’t like.”

  “Now why would you be sayin’ that?”

  “I was thinking—if he got in trouble with either you or your mamm because of the ball that hit me in the face, maybe he’s blaming me for whatever punishment he received.” Leona’s pupils were all she had now that she was destined to be an old maid, and the thought of any of them not liking her sent shivers up her spine.

  Abner shook his head. “I never really punished the boy, except to give him a lecture on being careful where his aim was whenever he acted as pitcher. Besides, he felt really bad about your naas gettin’ broke, and if he didn’t like you, I doubt he would have kept askin’ me to drive him over to your place so’s he could see you.”

  A sense of relief came over Leona as she thought it all through. Emanuel had seemed genuinely sorry for throwing the ball, and other than being a bit unruly during school, he’d never given her any reason to believe he didn’t like her.

  “Guess I should be gettin’ on home,” Abner said. “Danki for takin’ the time to talk to me, Leona.”

  “I’ll try to think of some ways to convince Emanuel that he needs to come back to school—just in case my daed doesn’t get through to him,” she said.

  Abner smiled, and his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Wish I’d had a teacher as nice as you when I attended school.”

  Unsure of what to say to that comment, Leona merely nodded and mumbled, “See you at preaching service on Sunday, Abner.”

  As Jimmy drove into the town of Bel Air, his stomach tumbled like a cement mixer. He’d gone online and done a search for the lawyer’s address and phone number before he’d left home, and then he had called and made an appointment for four o’clock this afternoon.

  What if he refuses to give me any information? What if he doesn’t know where my real mother is? Jimmy’s head swam with unanswered questions, and as he pulled into the parking lot in front of Carl Stevens’s office, he knew he had to pray.

  “Dear Lord, please slow my racing heart. Put the right words on my tongue. Let me leave here with enough information to begin my search for the woman who gave birth to me. Amen.”

  Jimmy climbed out of the truck and entered the building feeling a little less anxious than he had before his prayer.

  “May I help you?” a middle-aged, redheaded woman asked when Jimmy stepped up to the reception desk.

  He nodded and wiped his sweaty palms along the sides of his jeans. “I’m Jimmy Scott, and I have a four o’clock appointment with Mr. Stevens.”

  She glanced at her computer screen and said, “Mr. Stevens is running a little behind this afternoon, but he’ll be with you shortly.” She motioned to a group of chairs sitting against the far wall. “You can wait over there.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Jimmy took a seat and picked up a magazine from the nearby table. He thumbed through a couple of pages and glanced at his watch—the one his dad had given him for his birthday. I hope Dad understands why I haven’t answered any of the messages he’s left on my voice mail. I can’t deal with talking to him right now. He’d only try to convince me to come home. Jimmy grimaced. If Dad had called Mr. Stevens like he said he was going to, I might not have felt the need to come here on my own.

  “Mr. Scott?”

  Jimmy’s thoughts came to a halt when the receptionist called his name. He stood.

  “Mr. Stevens isn’t ready to see you yet, but I was wondering if you would like a cup of coffee or something cold to drink?”

  “Uh—yeah, I guess so.”

  “Which would you like?”

  “Something cold would be great.”

  “We have several kinds of soda. Do you have a favorite?”

  When Jimmy said any kind of soda would be fine, the receptionist opened a small refrigerator behind her desk and handed him a bottle of grape soda. “Would you like a glass?”

  “No, thanks. This is fine.” Jimmy opened the lid and took a big gulp.

  He’d just finished the last of the soda when the receptionist said, “Mr. Stevens will see you now.” She opened the door to her left and motioned Jimmy inside.

  A young man with dark hair and metal-framed glasses greeted Jimmy when he stepped into the office.

  “I—I have an appointment with Carl Stevens,” Jimmy said, glancing around the room. If Dad had met Mr. Stevens twenty years ago, then he knew the man standing before him couldn’t be the same lawyer.

  “I’m Carl Stevens.”

  “But—but, I was expecting a much older man,” Jimmy stammered. The young man smiled, and his blue eyes twinkled. “Did you think you’d made an appointment with Carl Stevens Sr.?”

  “I—I guess so.”

  “That would be my father. He’s retired now. I’m Carl Stevens Jr., and I took over Dad’s practice five years ago.”

  Jimmy felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. If this wasn’t the lawyer who had initiated his adoption proceedings, then he had probably made the trip for nothing.

  Carl nodded to the straight-backed chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat, and you can tell me why you’re here.”

  Jimmy sank to the chair, and Carl seated himself in the leather chair behind a mammoth oak desk. “I—uh—I’m not sure you can help me, but my dad—my adoptive dad—came here twenty years ago to get me.” He felt moisture on his forehead and reached up to swipe it away. “Your dad—Carl Stevens Sr.—was the lawyer handling the adoption case.”

  Carl Jr. nodded. “I see.”

  Jimmy squirmed restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position and wishing he knew what to say.

  “So what is it you want from me?”

  “Actually, it was your dad I wanted information from, but since he’s no longer practicing law, maybe you might—would you still have the a
doption records that took place twenty years ago?”

  “I’m sure we would, but you should know up front that a lawyer is bound by client confidentiality, so even if I were to find those records, I wouldn’t be able to tell you the name of your birth parents.”

  Jimmy’s heart felt as if it had dropped clear to his toes. Had he driven all this way for nothing? “Isn’t there anything you could tell me? Maybe what hospital I was born in, or—”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Carl interrupted. “Let me go in the back room and check through some old filing cabinets, and I’ll see if I can come up with anything helpful for you.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”

  Carl grabbed a pen and a tablet from his desk. “What are your adoptive parents’ names, and when was the date of the adoption?”

  “Jim and Linda Scott, and it took place twenty years ago. It was sometime in June, but I’m not sure of the exact date. I was one year old at the time.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” Carl stood and exited the room.

  While Jimmy waited, he reached into his jeans and pulled out his pocket change; determined to keep his mind busy and his hands from shaking, he began to count the coins. Once he’d counted the fistful of money, he glanced at his watch, wondering how long it might take Carl to find the information he’d gone looking for.

  When he’d confirmed the amount of loose change in his pockets at least ten times and the lawyer still wasn’t back, he stood and began to pace between the window and the watercooler. Traffic was steady on the street out front, and he wondered if it would take him long to find the hotel where he’d made reservations to spend the night.

  He stopped in front of the watercooler and was thinking about getting a drink when the door opened. Carl stepped back into the room with a nod. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “That’s okay.” Jimmy took a seat again, and the lawyer did the same.

  “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,” Carl said. “I did find a Jim and Linda Scott in our database, but the adoption my dad had begun on their behalf fell through when the birth mother changed her mind and decided to keep her baby.”

  Jimmy’s mouth dropped open, and once more his lungs felt breathless. “But that can’t be. My mom—my adoptive mom—wrote me a letter before she died. She said my dad had come here alone to pick me up because she’d had a headache that day. She told me how excited she’d been when Dad came back to the hotel with me in his arms.” He stared at the lawyer. “How could that have happened if there’d been no adoption?”

  Carl shrugged. “I have no idea, but if there was an adoption, it didn’t take place in this office.” He tapped his pen along the edge of the desk. “But even if there were another adoption, then it couldn’t have happened the same day your dad came here. It would have taken some time for him to find another lawyer and begin new adoption proceedings.”

  Jimmy just sat there, too numb to move, too confused to respond. If I’m not the baby Dad came to pick up that day, then who am I, and where did he get me?

  Leona reclined on an old quilt by the pond near their home. With Cinnamon lying contently by her side, she stared at the sky, noting the pale blue graduating to a deeper color. She relished the peace and quiet after her private picnic lunch.

  A cool breeze tickled her nose, and she breathed in the fresh scent of the wildflowers growing nearby. She reached over and patted Cinnamon’s head. The Irish setter responded with a grunt and rolled onto her back. “You want your belly rubbed, don’t ya, girl?”

  Cinnamon’s head lulled to one side as Leona massaged the animal’s soft stomach. While she continued the rhythmic motion, she thought about Abner Lapp’s visit to the schoolhouse yesterday afternoon and wondered when Papa would visit with Emanuel. She hoped things would go well and that he’d be able to convince Emanuel that school was a good place to be. She knew the boy would be forced to attend, regardless of whether he wanted to or not, but it would be easier on both teacher and student if Emanuel wanted to be there.

  She moved her hands up to Cinnamon’s ears, stroking them both at the same time. “Teaching is all I have left, and I want to be the best teacher I can be.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle warmth of the sun’s healing rays. For the last couple of days, the weather had been mild and not the least bit muggy. She wished every day of summer could be this way.

  An approaching buggy crunched against the hard-packed dirt and halted Leona’s thoughts. She opened her eyes and saw Naomi Hoffmeir and her youngest daughter, Millie, climb down from their buggy. “What brings you two out here today?” she asked as they neared the quilt where she sat.

  “We were on our way home from a dental appointment and decided to stop at the pond to see if there were many mosquitoes,” Naomi explained. “Our family hopes to have a picnic supper later this evening. That is, if there aren’t too many nasty bugs here to bite us.”

  Leona shook her head. “I haven’t seen any mosquitoes at all.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Leona smiled at Millie. “I’m looking forward to having you in my class when school starts up in August,” she said in their Pennsylvania Dutch language, knowing Millie wouldn’t learn English well until she started the first grade.

  Millie nodded and gave her soon-to-be teacher a shy grin. Then she flopped down beside Cinnamon. When the dog licked the child’s hand, Millie giggled and patted the animal’s head.

  “How much longer do you think you’ll teach?” Naomi asked, taking a seat on the edge of the quilt.

  “For a long time, I hope,” Leona replied.

  “Maybe you’ll be Kevin’s teacher when he starts school in two years.”

  “I should be.”

  “He’s content to stay with his grandma Hoffmeir while Caleb and I are at the store every day, but I’m sure he will enjoy going to school once he’s old enough.” Naomi smoothed her long green dress over her knees and wrapped her hands around them. “Abner Lapp’s mamm came into the store the other day, and she said something about Abner having been over to your house to see you a few times.”

  Leona nodded.

  “So, if Abner’s courting you, maybe you won’t be teaching as long as you think.”

  Leona sat up straight, her back rigid. “I don’t know where you got the idea that Abner and I are courting, but it’s not true. He dropped by the house a couple of times to see how I was doing after my nose got broke, and then he came once to talk about his brother.”

  “Guess I was wrong then.” Naomi plucked a blade of grass from a patch growing nearby and twirled it around her fingers.

  Leona glanced at her dog. The critter nuzzled Millie’s hand, and the young girl seemed to be eating it up.

  “Looks like my Millie has made herself a new friend,” Naomi commented.

  Leona stroked the dog’s floppy red paw. “Jah, and the feeling seems to be mutual.”

  Naomi smiled. “Dogs make wunderbaar pets, but they can’t take the place of a loving, caring husband.”

  “That may be true for some,” Leona said with a shrug.

  Jim’s alarm clock blared in his ear. He rolled over with a groan, wishing he could sleep a few more minutes. The hangover headache he’d had most of yesterday had finally abated, but he’d stayed up until late last night trying to call Jimmy. “That kid must have shut off his cell phone,” he mumbled into his pillow.

  Just then, the telephone on the table beside his bed rang, and Jim quickly reached for it. “Scott residence. Jim here.”

  “Hi, Dad, it’s me.”

  “Jimmy! Where are you? Why haven’t you been answering your phone? Did you get the messages I left?” Jim sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Slow down, Dad. I can only answer one question at a time.”

  “Well, you can start by telling me where you are.”

  “I’m in Bel Air, Maryland, and I just checked out of my hotel.”

  “You—you drove all the way to Maryland by yourself ?�
�

  “I’m not a little kid, Dad, and I told you I was coming here in the note I left on the kitchen counter. You did get my note, didn’t you?”

  Jim stretched one arm over his head and yawned. “Yeah, I got it, and I was pretty upset when I discovered you were gone.”

  “Sorry about that, but you were passed out on the floor in the living room when I left, so—”

  “Don’t remind me,” Jim said with a groan. He still couldn’t get over the fact that his son had left him there. And it wasn’t like Jimmy to take off on a trip by himself—not to mention that he’d left in the middle of a big paint job, which had affected Jim’s entire paint crew.

  “I went to see Carl Stevens yesterday,” Jimmy said.

  “You—you did?”

  “Yeah, only it wasn’t the Carl Stevens you had dealings with. It was his son, Carl Jr., who took over his dad’s practice five years ago.”

  Jim breathed a sigh of relief. If Jimmy had only met the lawyer’s son, then maybe he was still in the clear. It wasn’t likely that the son would know anything about what had gone on in his dad’s office twenty years ago. Still, there might have been some records kept on the prospective adoption. “Wh–what’d the lawyer say?”

  “He looked your name up in his database and discovered that the birth mother of the baby you’d gone there to adopt had changed her mind and decided to keep the child.” There was a brief pause. “Is that true, Dad? Did you leave Carl Stevens’s office without a baby?”

  Jim stood and ambled across the room. He pulled back the curtain and stared out the window. It was a sunny day, but inside his room, a dark cloud was hanging over his head.

  “Dad, did you hear what I said?”

  Jim leaned against the window casing and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I heard your question.”

  “So what’s the answer?”

  “I—uh—no, I didn’t leave there with a baby.” Jim’s eyes snapped open as the truth hit him full in the face. He was caught in his own web of deceit, and there didn’t seem to be a way out, short of telling Jimmy what had really happened that day. But could he risk losing his son forever by revealing the truth?