Reuben had been chosen by the lot to be their bishop before Daniel was born. His districts were fortunate to have his gentle, but stern wisdom as well as his dedication to his responsibilities as their bishop. It wasn’t an easy life for a man with a family to support, because those selected by the lot to serve weren’t paid.
When Reuben went to the stainless steel tank where the milk was kept cold by the diesel engine, Daniel opened the top and checked that the filter was in place. He stepped back so Reuben could pour the milk in. As soon as both cans were empty, Reuben lifted out the filter and closed the top. He set the filter in a deep soapstone sink to clean later.
Wiping his hands on a ragged towel, Reuben said, “I hear you’ve got a new job. Fixing the Hunter’s Mill Creek Bridge.”
“Word gets around fast.” He chuckled.
“The Amish grapevine is efficient.”
Daniel had to smile. For people who didn’t use telephones and computers at home, news still managed to spread through the district. He wondered how long it would take for his neighbors to learn about Shelby. News of a kind being left on the Lambrights’ front porch was sure to be repeated with the speed of lightning.
“I went out to the bridge today,” Daniel said. “No work can be done until some bees are removed.”
“Bees?” The bishop leaned against the stainless steel tank. “Doesn’t Hannah Lambright keep bees? The bridge is close to her house, ain’t so? Maybe she’ll be willing to help.”
“I’ve already spoken with her. She’ll take care of the bees if I help her with a few things.”
“Sounds like an excellent solution.” Reuben folded his arms over the ends of his gray beard. He shifted and plucked out the piece of hay. Tossing it aside, he went on, “But from your face, Daniel, and the fact you want to talk with me, I’d guess there’s more to the story.”
“A lot.” In terse detail, Daniel outlined how he’d found the kind after she escaped from the basket. He told the bishop about the note from Hannah’s daed. “Hannah will take care of Shelby, of course, until her daed can be found.”
“Hannah already carries a heavy load of responsibilities with her great-grandmother. Some days, the old woman seems to lose her way, and Hannah must keep a very close watch on her.”
“I offered to help with Shelby.”
The bishop nodded. “A gut neighbor helps when the load becomes onerous.”
“And I also told Hannah I’d come to ask you about whether we should contact the police to get help in finding her daed. If you’re all right with her talking to the police, she agreed that she will.”
Reuben didn’t say anything for several minutes, and Daniel knew the bishop was pondering the problem and its ramifications. It was too big and important a decision to make without considering everything that could happen as a result.
Daniel wished his thoughts could focus on finding Hannah’s missing daed. Instead, his mind kept returning to the woman herself. Not just her beauty, though he’d been beguiled by it. No, he couldn’t keep from thinking how gentle and solicitous she was of the kind and her great-grandmother.
Some had whispered years ago Hannah was too self-centered, like her daed who hadn’t spared a thought for his daughter when he jumped the fence and joined the Englisch world. Daniel had never seen signs of Hannah being selfish when they were walking out. In fact, it’d been the opposite, because he found she cared too much about him. He hadn’t wanted her to get serious about him.
Getting married then, he’d believed, would have made a jumble of his plans to open a construction business. That spring, he’d hoped to submit the paperwork within a few weeks, and he thought being distracted by pretty Hannah might be a problem. In retrospect, it’d been the worst decision he could have made.
He hadn’t wanted to hurt Hannah. He’d thought she’d turn her attention to someone who could love her as she deserved to be loved. But he’d miscalculated. Instead of flirting with other young men, she’d stopped attending gatherings, sending word she needed to take care of her great-grandmother. At the time, he’d considered it an excuse, but now wondered if she’d been honest.
But whether she’d been or not, he knew one thing for sure. He’d hurt her, and he’d never forgiven himself. Nor had he asked for her forgiveness as he should have. Days had passed becoming weeks, then months and years, and his opportunity had passed.
“I thought we’d seen the last of Isaac Lambright,” Reuben said quietly as if he were talking to himself.
“That’s Hannah’s daed?”
The bishop nodded. “Isaac was the last one I guessed would go into the Englisch world. He was a gut man, a devout man who prized his neighbors and his plain life. But when his wife sickened, he changed. He began drinking away his pain. After Saloma died, he refused to attend the funeral and he left within days.”
“Without Hannah.” He didn’t make it a question. “But Isaac has come to Paradise Springs and left another daughter behind.”
“So it would seem.” The bishop sighed. “I see no choice in the matter. The Englisch authorities must be notified. Abandoning a kind is not only an abomination, but a crime. Has the kind said anything to help?”
“Shelby makes sounds she seems to think are words, because she looks at you as if you should know what she’s saying. It’s babbling.”
He nodded. “That was a foolish question. A kind without Down syndrome uses only a few words at her age. An old grossdawdi at my age forgets such things.” His grin came and went swiftly. “But that doesn’t change anything as far as going to the police.” Again he paused, weighing his next words. “Waiting until tomorrow to contact them shouldn’t be a problem. I’d like to take tonight to pray for God’s guidance.”
“Hannah may be hesitant about talking to the cops because she doesn’t want to get her daed into trouble.”
Reuben put his hand on Daniel’s arm. “We must assume Isaac is already in trouble. I can’t imagine any other reason for a daed to leave another one of his daughters as he has.” He sighed. “We’d hoped when Isaac was put under the bann that he’d see the errors of his ways. He told me after Saloma’s death he’d never come back, not even for Hannah. Now he’s done the same thing with another daughter.”
“If Shelby is his daughter and not someone’s idea of a cruel prank.”
“And that, Daniel, is why I’ll be talking with the police tomorrow morning. They’ll know be the best way to find out what’s true and what isn’t.”
“What will happen if Shelby isn’t Hannah’s sister?”
The bishop clasped Daniel’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Let’s not seek. The future is in God’s hands, so let’s let Him lead us where we need to go.”
Daniel nodded, bowing his head when the bishop asked him to join him in prayer. He wished a small part of his heart didn’t rebel at the idea of handing over the problem to God. That part longed to do something now. Something he—Daniel himself—could do to make a difference and help Hannah.
After all, he owed her that much.
Didn’t he?
As the sun rose the next morning, Hannah wondered how she was going to survive the coming day...and the ones to follow. During the night, which had stretched interminably, Shelby had been inconsolable. Her cries from the room across the upstairs hall from Hannah’s had kept Grossmammi Ella awake, too, on the first floor.