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 They were outdated oddities in a rapidly changing, impatient world.
“What’s taking him so long?” she muttered.
Amber spread a fluffy white towel on the table and laid the baby on it. From her case, she withdrew a disposable diaper and a container of baby wipes. “Nick understands what is needed. He respects the Amish in this community. He’ll help us, you’ll see.”
Miriam found her eyes drawn to Nick once more. He made a striking figure silhouetted against the morning sky in his dark blue uniform. He’d always been handsome, but age had honed his boyish good looks into a rugged masculinity that was even more attractive. He’d gained a little bulk in the years since she’d seen him, but it looked to be all muscle. He was tall with broad shoulders and slim hips. At his waist he wore a broad belt loaded with the tools of his trade: a long black flashlight, a gun and handcuffs among other things.
As she watched, he raked his fingers through his short blond hair. She knew exactly how silky his hair felt beneath her fingertips. His hat lay on the counter beside her. She picked it up, noticing the masculine scent that clung to the felt. In an instant, she was transported back to the idyllic summer days they had enjoyed before her world crashed around her.
Thinking of all she had lost was too painful. Quickly she put the hat down and clasped her hands behind her back. “What is taking so long? Surely, he could make a decision by now. Either the baby can stay with us or she can’t.”
The outside door opened and Nick came in. He looked around the room until his gaze locked with Miriam’s. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. Was it good news or bad?
Chapter Two
“Well? What did you decide?” Amber demanded. “Do we have to involve social services?”
Nick couldn’t take his eyes off Miriam. Emotions could cloud a man’s judgment, and Miriam raised a whole bushel of emotions in him. She had since the first day they met when he was nineteen and she was an eighteen-year-old, fresh-faced, barefoot Amish beauty. Did she remember those wonderful summer days, or had her brother’s death erased all the good memories of their past?
He brought his attention back to the present issue. “I’ve talked it over with the county attorney. He is willing to agree that the baby has not been abandoned, although the situation is certainly unusual. Hannah can remain in the custody of Ada and Miriam Kauffman for a period of seven days.”
Miriam’s eyes widened with surprise. “She can?”
“For two weeks,” Amber said with a stubborn tilt of her chin.
Nodding curtly, Nick said, “However, if the family has not returned for her after two weeks, she becomes an abandoned infant, and I will call Child Protective Services.”
“I’m sure someone will come forward before then.” Amber’s obvious relief eased some of his misgivings. She was more familiar with the Amish in the Hope Springs area than almost anyone. If she thought he was doing the right thing, he was willing to follow her recommendation.
Miriam didn’t say another word. It was a struggle to keep from staring at her. He couldn’t believe she still had such a profound effect on him. He had stopped seeing her the summer he turned twenty because he knew how strong her faith was and how important it was to her. He hadn’t been willing to make her choose between her religion and his love.
The truth was he’d been afraid he would come out the loser. As it turned out, he had, only for a different reason.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve checked for reports of missing or abducted infants. Just because you saw an Amish buggy driving away doesn’t automatically make this an Amish infant. Fortunately, there aren’t any babies under one week of age that have gone missing nationwide. We’ll go with your theory until there is evidence otherwise. If an infant girl is reported missing, that changes everything.”
He paused. They weren’t going to like the rest of what he had to say. “Now, I’m not willing to let someone who dropped a baby on your doorstep just waltz in and take her back. If they do show up, this will be immediately reported to Social Services.”
Miriam glared at him. “I thought the point of us keeping the baby was to avoid that?”
“By letting you keep the baby, I’m making it easier for the mother to return or for her family to come forward when they might not do so otherwise. I’m sorry. I won’t budge on this. Someone who is desperate enough to leave her child with you in the dead of night needs help—she needs counseling. I mean to see that she gets it.”
The women exchanged looks. Ada and Miriam nodded. Nick breathed a mental sigh of relief. He said, “The note is too vague to open an official investigation into the mother’s whereabouts. I see concern, but there is no evidence of a crime. ‘It’s not safe’ could mean any number of things. However, I agree that we need to make an effort to find this young woman. The sooner, the better.”
Amber threw her arms around him. “You’re the best cousin I could ever ask for.”
“That’s not what you said when I wouldn’t tear up your speeding ticket.”
Amber blushed and cast a quick look at Miriam. “He’s joking.”
He rolled his eyes. “Right. Ladies, I don’t want word of this baby getting out to the general public. Keep it in the Amish community and keep a lid on it.”
Miriam frowned. “I would think public exposure is exactly what we want.”
“When news of an abandoned baby surfaces, the nut cases come out of the woodwork. Women who desperately want children will claim it’s their baby. Some are crazy enough that they will try to take legal action against you. People who want to adopt and simple do-gooders will come forward with offers to take the child. Trust me, it could become a media circus and a nightmare trying to sift fact from fiction.”
“All right. Where do we start?” Amber asked.
“We can start by trying to tie the basket or the quilt to a specific family.”
Ada spread the blanket open on the table so they could examine it. It was a simple quilt of patchwork blocks with a backing of blue-gray cotton. She said, “I don’t see a signature or date, nor do I recognize the stitch work. It’s fine work. Perhaps someone in the community will recognize it.”
Nick put the basket on the quilt and snapped several pictures with his cell phone. “I’ll email these photos to some of the shops that carry Amish goods. Maybe we’ll get a hit that way.”
Amber’s cell phone rang. She opened it and walked away to speak to the caller.
“What else can we do?” Miriam asked.
“Do you recall what kind of buggy it was?”
“It was dark. I saw a shape, not much else.”
“Did it have an orange triangle on the back, reflective tape or lights?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“So we can’t even rule out the Swartzentruber