“Like my little brothers,” Caroline said. “They’re always getting into it. I never realized that Amish mothers had the same trouble.”
Leah chuckled. “We aren’t that different,” she reminded. “We may offer our prayers in a different form and dress differently, but kids are kids.”
“It’s like that all over the world,” Daniel put in. “But go on.”
“Anyway,” Leah continued. “It started to thunder, and Minnie got scared.”
“How old is she?” Leslie wanted to know.
“Minnie’s eight,” Leah said. “She started crying to go back to the house. Annoyed because they hadn’t found the cow and he still had chores to finish before dinner, Abraham told them both to go home. He told them he’d find Matilda himself.”
“But if Joey was with his sister,” Leslie said, “how did…”
“According to Minnie,” Leah went on, “Joey had gone only a short distance with her when there was thunder again and he decided that he wanted Abraham. He left Minnie to run back to his brother, leaving Minnie to think he was with Abraham, and Abraham believing Minnie had taken him back to the house. Abraham eventually found the missing cow, and drove her back to the barn, but he never saw Joey.”
“Was there a calf?” Caroline stopped to untangle herself from some tall weeds. The rain wasn’t making it easier for any of them. Instead of letting up, it was coming down harder, and they were walking directly into it.
“No, Matilda was just being a cow.” Leah slowed to wait for her. “They aren’t as smart as horses or dogs, and they can be a little hardheaded. Anyway, no one missed Joey until his place was empty at the dinner table. By then he’d been missing for nearly two hours.”
“Well, he’s got to be out here somewhere.” Leslie moved closer to Daniel. “There aren’t any bulls in this pasture, are there?”
“The Beachys don’t have a bull and the cows are all up at the barn.” Leah made a small sound of distress. “I can’t imagine being Joey’s age and out here alone. Wherever he is, he must be terrified.”
Across the field, Daniel could see flickering lights from other search parties’ flashlights, but they were too far away to hear the volunteers. The only sounds besides their own footsteps and voices were the rain falling, the wind and the occasional rustle in the grass. Every so often, they stopped and Leah called the boy’s name, but there was never an answer.
The house and barn were far behind them, and in the wet darkness, Daniel felt as though he was in a wilderness. He’d traveled all over the world, but he’d always lived in an urban environment. He was used to towns and teeming cities, airports and hospitals. He was at home in noisy bazaars and crowded neighborhoods where Arabic and Spanish and a dozen other languages were spoken. He’d learned to feel at ease on busy trains, buses and subways, but here he felt completely out of his element. How could they possibly find one small child in all this darkness? Joey could be anywhere.
It was no wonder the Beachy family had called for help. Daniel had been told that women from the Amish church were organizing a prayer vigil, and he knew that Dinah Rhinehart had asked the Mennonite women if they would do the same. Samuel Mast said that someone had notified the Delaware State Police. And in the farmyard, Daniel had heard talk of sending for search dogs.
“There are a lot of rumors flying around,” Leah said when they stopped to catch their breath. “One of the Beachy girls said that Joey had told her that a man in a blue pickup offered him candy at their mailbox a few days ago.”
Daniel and his cousins moved closer so that they could hear what she was saying.
“And Noodle Troyer told my brother-in-law, Charley, that Elmer, Joey’s brother, found Joey’s hat and one shoe in the mud beside a pond. But I don’t put much stock in that story, since it’s Noodle.” She cocked her head to one side. “He’s known for telling tall tales and making much out of nothing.”
Rain was running down the back of Daniel’s jean jacket, and his trousers were soaked. He wished he’d checked the weather report before heading north to Delaware from where he’d been speaking in Virginia—he could have used his raincoat right now. Leah was the only one who seemed to be properly dressed for a night like this. She had a hooded rain slicker that reached past her knees to her black rubber boots. Wide sleeves protected her arms and covered half her hands. Her flashlight was an expensive Maglite. His flashlight was a cheap one from the dollar store, and it wasn’t as bright. It needed new batteries; he remembered that now. But he didn’t always think ahead, a fault his father was quick to point out.
“Did you have time to stop home for your flashlight?” Daniel asked, giving his a tap.
“We always keep it in the buggy.” Leah offered a quick smile. “Just to be safe. And it looked like rain, so I threw boots and the raincoat in the back before we headed to the Grange to hear the speaker. My mother always told us girls to be prepared for anything whenever we left home.”
“She sounds wise, your mother,” Daniel said.
“Ya, Mam is smart. She’s the schoolteacher here in Seven Poplars. But she’s got a lot of common sense, too.”
“What else do you carry in case of emergencies?” Daniel asked. He was teasing her a little, but he was also curious. There were all sorts of things about Leah Yoder he wanted to know.
“I have flares in the buggy, too,” she answered, “but I didn’t see any need to bring those.”
“You don’t have a cell phone, do you?”
“Nah.” Leah shook her head, sending droplets of water flying. “Our church doesn’t permit them.”
“Don’t you have a phone, Daniel?” Caroline asked. “I keep telling Mom that I need one just as much as Leslie does.”
“I do have a cell,” Daniel admitted, “but it’s back in my truck. I forgot to charge it, so it wouldn’t be much use to us. But if Leslie brought hers…”
“I’ve got it,” Leslie assured him, patting the pocket of her coat. “And it’s charged.”
“We don’t have electricity so a cell phone wouldn’t do me much good,” Leah explained. “There’s a regular phone at the chair shop across the road from our house. We can use it to call the doctor or make important calls, but we aren’t allowed to have personal phones.”
Daniel liked Leah’s voice. It was clear and sweet, yet she had no trouble making herself heard above the rain. Leah had a slight accent, not German, but almost Southern. Her grammar and vocabulary were very good. Hearing her, no one would guess that she’d never completed high school. The Delaware Amish, he knew, sent their children to private church schools that ended with eighth-grade graduation.
“There’s a fence just ahead,” Leah said. “I thought maybe we should search the woods, but I see lights there so I think some of the other groups are looking there. If we cross the fence line, we’ll be on the Crawford sheep farm. The Crawfords are living in Dover while their house is being remodeled, and there’s a long lane from the road to the buildings.”
Using his little flashlight, Daniel located a fence post and three strands of barbed wire. “How do we climb over that?” he asked.
“We don’t.” Leah plucked at the top row. “But the wire isn’t tight. If one of us holds up that bottom strand, the others can crawl under.”
Daniel nodded, resigned to whatever it took to find the boy. He was already