“Do you have a big family?” Hannah asked.
“Four brothers, so not very big.”
Hannah gave a weary sigh. “I want a brother and a sister, but Mamm says no.”
Joshua chuckled.
Mary refused to look at him. “You have Bella. That’s enough.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Your mamm needs a husband first, Hannah.”
Hannah’s eyes widened and she held up a hand. “That’s what Mammi Ada says. She says Mamm will turn into an old maedel if we don’t find her a husband soon.”
Joshua tipped his head to the side as he regarded Mary’s crimson cheeks. “I think she has a few years yet. Tell your grandmother not to worry.”
“I wish you two would stop talking about me as if I weren’t here. Your candle is thick enough, Hannah. I think Joshua should make up a bed for you.”
Hannah looked at her in shock. “You mean we have to sleep here?”
Mary cupped her daughter’s cheek. “I’m afraid so.”
“I sure wish this adventure was over. Can I have supper now?”
Mary glanced at Joshua. He shrugged. “If you feel okay, I don’t see why not.”
Hannah enjoyed eating sticky pear halves with her fingers while Joshua fixed a makeshift bed for her. It wasn’t much, but it would keep her off the cold damp floor. She made a face as she crawled onto the burlap bags. Mary checked the edge of her apron and found it was dry now. She pulled it off and used it to cover Hannah. It wasn’t long before the child was asleep. The lamp died a few minutes later.
Joshua lit the candle that Mary had made and stuck it to the middle of the tub. It would burn out long before the night was over. Mary settled in the rocker, but he knew she didn’t sleep any better than he did. The long night crawled past. He had no way to tell time. He simply had to endure the darkness, as he had done in prison.
The distant rumble of thunder woke him some time later. He lifted his head and winced at the pain in his neck. Opening his eyes, he realized he was still in the cellar. It was dark, but he could make out Mary’s form in the other chair.
She sat forward and bent her neck slowly from side to side. “Is it morning?”
“I think so.”
“It’s raining again.”
“Ja.”
“I was dreaming about bacon and eggs.”
His stomach rumbled. “I was dreaming about three-year-old pears.”
“Really?”
“Nee, I wasn’t dreaming at all. If I was, I’d wake up and find I was at home in my own bed.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
They both stood and stretched. She looked at him. “What’s the plan for today?”
He rubbed his bristly cheeks with both hands. “I thought you had a plan.”
“I’m sure it’s your turn to come up with something. I thought of making the candles.”
He nudged the broken rocker with his boot. “Which was good, but I thought of finding furniture for our snug little home. It’s your turn to be brilliant.”
“I’ve never felt less brilliant in my life. What would you like for breakfast? I believe we have more three-year-old pears or some four-year-old peaches.”
“Peaches,” Hannah said, sitting up on her makeshift mattress.
“Peaches,” he agreed. “Provided they look safe.”
After their meal, they spent more time exploring for a way out without success. By noon, the rain had moved on and a few narrow beams of sunlight streamed through cracks in the floorboards overhead, allowing them to see their dismal surroundings a little better.
Joshua studied the cracks for a while. “I think I might be able to knock some of the floor planks loose if I can find something sturdy to reach them.”
“I knew you would have a plan.” Mary began to search through the piles of junk and he joined her.
The best thing he could come up with was a post about five feet long and two inches thick. He chose a spot overhead, wrapped some cloth around one end of the wood to prevent slivers and began thrusting it upward. Mary and Hannah stood nearby watching him. After half an hour, his arms were aching, the end of the post was beginning to splinter and the floorboard above him had only been displaced by an inch. It was something, but it wasn’t enough.
Mary reached for his battering ram. “Let me work on it for a while. Do you think we’d do better to try and knock a hole in the cellar door?”
He handed her the wooden post. “It’s reinforced with metal straps and I didn’t see any light shining in through it. There’s no telling what’s on top of it. I know it’s open above me here.”
They took turns working for several hours and had the ends of two planks above them loose when Mary suddenly grabbed his arm. “Wait. Stop. I hear a dog.”
The barking grew louder.
Hannah got up off the floor and began jumping. “I hear Bella.”
Joshua gave a mighty heave and the floorboard broke, leaving a narrow space open. They looked at each other. “Neither of us can fit through that,” he said, his excitement ebbing away.
“Hannah might be able to.”
The sunlight dimmed and Joshua looked up. The head of a large yellow dog was visible above him. The dog barked excitedly. Hannah rushed to Joshua’s side. “I knew I heard Bella.”
“I hear voices, too.” Mary began shouting. A few moments later, the dog was pushed aside.
An English woman with brown hair knelt down to look in. “Mary, is that you? Is Hannah with you?”
Tears of joy streamed down Mary’s face. “We’re okay, Miriam, but we can’t get the cellar door open.”
“Thank God you are safe. We’ll get you out. Don’t worry. Nick, I found them!” She disappeared from view. The dog came back to the opening. She lay down and woofed softly.
Mary threw her arms around Joshua in an impulsive hug. “I knew they would find us. I just knew it.”
Bella barked again. As if Mary realized what she was doing, she suddenly stepped away from Joshua and crossed her arms. “It’s Miriam and Nick, my adoptive parents. Nick will get us out of here.”
Joshua heard activity at the door and the sounds of something heavy being dragged aside. “Looks like our prayers have been answered.”
Mary picked up Hannah. Joshua followed them as they hurried to the stairwell.
From the other side, a man said, “Everyone stand clear.”
“We are, Nick.” Mary replied. The sound of an ax striking the portal was followed by splintering wood. A hole appeared in the top of the door and grew rapidly. Through it, Joshua could see the leaves and limbs of a large tree that must have been holding the door shut. Mary’s father was swinging the ax like a madman. Joshua ached to help, but he could only stand by and wait.
Finally, the top section of the door broke free and a man’s hands reached in. “Give me Hannah.”
Mary handed the child over and then waited until the opening was enlarged. Joshua boosted her up and then climbed out on his own. The sunshine and the fresh air was a blessed relief from their dark, dank room. He blinked in the brightness and focused on Hannah in the arms of a woman in