A Home for Hannah (2 page)

When her mother didn’t reply, Miriam quickly ran upstairs to her bedroom and pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her purse. A call to directory assistance yielded Amber Bradley’s number.

When a sleepy woman’s voice answered the phone, Miriam took a deep breath and hoped she was making the right decision. “Hi. You don’t know me. My name is Miriam Kauffman, and I have a situation.”

After Miriam explained what had transpired, Amber agreed to come check the baby and bring some newborn essentials. She also agreed to wait until they had discussed the situation before notifying the local law enforcement.

Miriam returned to the kitchen. Her mother was standing beside the kitchen table. She had taken the quilt out of the basket. Miriam said, “Amber Bradley is on her way. I convinced her to wait before calling the police, but I know she will. She has to.”

Ada held up an envelope. “I told you not to involve the
Englisch.
I found a note under the quilt. The child’s name is Hannah and her mother is coming back for her.”

* * *

The farmhouse door swung open before Sheriff Nick Bradley could knock. A woman with fiery auburn hair and green eyes stood framed in the doorway glaring at him. “There has been a mistake. We don’t need you here.”

The shock of seeing Miriam Kauffman standing in front of him took him aback. He was certain his heart actually stopped for a moment before chugging ahead with a painful thump. He struggled to hide his surprise. It had been eight years since he’d laid eyes on her. A lifetime ago.

He touched the brim of his trooper’s hat, determined to maintain a professional demeanor no matter what it cost him. How could she be more beautiful than he remembered? “Good morning to you, too, Miriam.”

After all this time, she wasn’t any better at hiding her opinion of him. She looked ready to spit nails. Proof, if he needed it, that she hadn’t forgiven him. A physical ache filled his chest.

“Miriam, don’t be rude,” her mother chided from behind her. Miriam reluctantly stepped aside. A large yellow dog pushed past her and came out to investigate Nick’s arrival. It took only a second for the dog to decide he was a friend. She jumped up and planted both front feet on his chest. He welcomed the chance to regain his composure and focused his attention on the dog.

“Bella, get down,” Miriam scolded.

The dog paid her no mind. The mutt’s tail wagged happily as Nick rumpled her ears. He said, “That’s a good girl. Now down.”

The dog dropped to all fours, then sat quietly by his side. He nodded once to Miriam and entered the house. The dog stayed outside.

His cousin Amber sat at the kitchen table. “Hi, Nick. Thanks for coming. We do need your help.”

Ada Kauffman sat across from her. A large woven basket sat on the table between them. The room was bathed in soft light from two kerosene lanterns hanging from hooks on the ceiling. The Amish religion forbade the use of electricity in the home.

He glanced at the three women facing him. Ada Kauffman was Amish, from the top of her white prayer bonnet on her gray hair to the tips of her bare toes poking out from beneath her plain, dark blue dress. Her daughter, Miriam, had never joined the church, choosing to leave before she was baptized. Tonight, she wore simple dark slacks and a green blouse that matched her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest. If looks could shrivel a man, he’d be two feet tall in about a second.

His cousin Amber wore jeans, sneakers and a blue
T-shirt beneath a white lab coat. She served the Amish and non-Amish people of Hope Springs, Ohio, as a nurse midwife. Exactly what was she doing here? If Miriam’s trim figure was anything to go by she didn’t require the services of a midwife.

Amber wasn’t normally the cloak-and-dagger type. He was intensely curious as to why she had insisted he come in person before she’d tell him the nature of the call.

He said, “Okay, I’m here. What’s so sensitive that I had to come instead of sending one of my perfectly competent deputies? Make it snappy, Amber. I’m leaving in a few hours for a much-needed, week-long fishing trip, and I’ve got a lot to do.”

“This is why we called you.” Amber gestured toward the basket. He took a step closer and saw a baby swaddled in the folds of a blue quilt.

“You called me here to see a new baby? Congratulations to whomever.”

“Exactly,” Miriam said.

He looked at her closely. “What am I missing?”

Amber said, “It’s more about what we are missing.”

“And that is?” he demanded. Somebody had better start making sense.

Ada said, “A mother to go with this baby.”

He shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”

Miriam rolled her eyes. “I’m not surprised.”

Her mother scowled at her, but said, “Someone left this baby on my porch.”

“Someone abandoned this infant? When? Did you see who it was?” He pulled his notebook and pen from his pocket and started laying out an investigation in his mind. So much for starting his vacation on time.

“About three hours ago,” Miriam answered.

Was she serious? “And you didn’t think to call my office until thirty minutes ago?”

Miriam didn’t answer. She sat in a chair beside his cousin. Amber said, “Miriam called me first. We’ve been discussing what to do.”

“There is nothing to discuss. What you
do
is call your local law enforcement and report an abandoned child. We could have had a search for the parents started hours ago. Amber, what were you thinking? I need to get my crime scene people here. We need to dust for prints, collect evidence.”

Miriam said, “No one has committed a crime.”

He glared at her. “I beg to differ.”

Her chin came up. She never was one to back down. He’d missed their arguments as much as he’d missed the good times they shared. If only they could go back to the way it had been before.

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.