For a second, he thought he saw a softening in her eyes. Was she thinking about those golden summer days, too? Her gaze slid away from him before he could be sure. She said, “According to the Ohio Safe Haven Law, if a baby under one month of age is left at a fire station, with a law enforcement officer or with a health care worker, there can be no prosecution of the parents who left the child.”
He didn’t like having the law quoted to him. “This baby wasn’t left with Amber or at a hospital. It was left with you.”
“I’m a nurse.”
She really enjoyed one-upping him. He had to admire her spunk. “But this isn’t a hospital, it’s a farmhouse. I still have to report this to the child welfare people. They will take charge of the baby.”
“That’s why we wanted to talk to you and not to one of your deputies.” Amber had that wheedling tone in her voice. The one that had gotten him in trouble any number of times when they were kids.
Ada smiled brightly. “Would you like some coffee, Sheriff? A friend brought us cinnamon rolls yesterday. Perhaps you would enjoy a bite.” She shuffled across the kitchen and began getting out plates.
The baby started to fuss. One tiny fist waved defiantly through the air. Miriam stood and lifted the child out of the basket. She sat down in the rocker beside the table. Holding and patting the baby, she ignored him.
He exhaled the frustration building inside him. The Amish dealt with things in their own fashion and in their own time. He knew that. Miriam might not have been baptized into the faith, but she had been raised in it. Intimidation wasn’t going to work on her or her mother.
He crouched in front of Miriam and took hold of the infant’s waving fist. The baby grasped his finger and held on tight. It was a cute little thing with round cheeks and pale blond hair. He smiled. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
Miriam wouldn’t meet his gaze. “A girl.”
He looked at Amber. “Is she healthy? I mean, is she okay?”
“Perfectly okay,” Amber assured him.
“How old do you think she is?”
“From the look of her umbilical cord, a day at the most.”
He looked around the room. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Miriam finally met his gaze. Perhaps it was a trick of the lamplight, but he didn’t see anger in their depths. She said, “I saw an Amish buggy driving away.”
He wasn’t expecting that. To the Amish, faith and family was the core around which everything was based. An abandoned Amish child was almost unheard of. It had never happened in his county.
“She’s coming back for her child,” Ada stated firmly.
Miriam stayed silent. She didn’t take her eyes off the baby’s face.
Amber laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “The baby needs to be here when she does.”
He rose to his feet and held up his hands. “Wait a minute. There are protocols in place for things like this. The child goes to the hospital to be checked out.”
Miriam quickly said, “She’s fine, but we’ll take her into the clinic in Hope Springs for a checkup.”
“Child Protective Services must place the baby with a licensed foster care provider or approved family member. I can’t change that rule.”
“I’m a licensed foster care provider,” Miriam said and smiled for the first time. The sight did funny things to his insides. She should smile more often.
Surprised by a sudden rush of attraction, he struggled to regain his professionalism. “Good. Then you can offer your services to our child welfare people. If they agree, I don’t see why you can’t care for the baby. I would have brought a car seat with me if you’d told me I was coming to pick up a child. Now, I’ll have to have someone bring one out. Unless you have one I can borrow, Amber?”
“I have one, but hear us out before you make a decision or call anyone else.”
“I’m not breaking the law for you, cousin.”
“Nor will you bend it, even if the outcome destroys a life.” Miriam stood with the baby and moved away from him.
He’d been waiting for that. She knew exactly how to dig at the most painful part of their past. “Miriam, that’s not fair. You know I would change things if I could.”
“You can’t. My brother is still dead.”
“It was Gottes wille, Miriam. You must accept that. I forgave Nicolas long ago,” her mother said quietly.
Miriam didn’t reply. Nick knew a moment of pity for her. It couldn’t be easy carrying such bitterness. It had taken him a long time to forgive himself for the crash that took her brother’s life. With God’s help, he had found the strength to accept what could not be changed and to live a better life because of it.
He caught Amber’s questioning look. She had no idea what was going on. He shook his head and mouthed the word later. His history with the Kauffman family had no bearing on this case.
“What is it you want me to do?” he asked.
Amber said, “The mother left a note. She’s coming back in a week. We feel that technically she hasn’t abandoned her child. She simply left her with neighbors.”
“Why am I here at all?” he asked.
Ada withdrew the note from her pocket and handed it to him. It was written on plain notebook paper.
Please help us. I know this isn’t right, but I have no choice. It isn’t safe to keep my baby right now, but I’ll be back for her. Meet me here a week from tonight. If I can’t make it, I’ll come the following week on Friday at midnight. I love my baby with all my heart. I’m begging you to take care of her until I return. I pray God moves you to care for her as you would your own. Her name is Hannah.
Amber said, “We called you because it’s clear this young woman is in trouble. We want you to help us find her.”
He glanced at Miriam. She was expecting him to deny their request. He could see it in her eyes and in the set of her chin. No matter what Miriam thought of him there was a woman in trouble and he couldn’t ignore that. He said, “Ada, do you have a clean plastic bag?”
“Ja.” She opened a cabinet door and withdrew a zip-top bag.
Nick said, “Hold it open for me.” She did, and he slipped the note inside.
He glanced around at the women in the room. “What I think should happen is irrelevant. I have to uphold the law. I’m not sure if we have a crime here or not. I need to speak with the county attorney before I can let this child stay here.”
* * *
Miriam glanced out the window for the umpteenth time. Dawn was spreading a blanket of rose-colored light across the eastern sky. Nick had spent the past twenty minutes sitting in his SUV. Now, he held his phone to his ear as he slowly paced back and forth on the porch. Bella sat watching him, her normal exuberance totally missing. Miriam found it hard to believe that Nick hadn’t rejected their request outright and whisked Hannah into protective custody.
He owed no allegiance to the Amish. They didn’t vote him into office or elect any officials. While they were a peaceful, quiet people, many Englisch saw them as an annoyance. Their buggies slowed traffic to a crawl and even caused accidents. Their iron horseshoes damaged the roadways for which they paid no motor vehicle taxes to maintain. They often owned the best farmland and rarely sold to anyone who wasn’t Amish. Many outsiders looked down on them because they received only an eighth-grade education. They were outdated oddities in a rapidly changing, impatient world.