The Guardian (6 page)

M
aryanna had slowly become accustomed to making her own decisions over the past nearly three years. She no longer conferred with anyone about what to grow in the greenhouse. Nor did she hesitate to light a lantern on a sleepless night to read in bed, or think twice about cooking her favorite meals—and the children’s—or just plain doing things the way she chose to. She wouldn’t call herself set in her ways, exactly, but with God’s help—and the help of her extended family—Maryanna and her children were doing quite well.

She and young Tobias had only been home a few minutes from their fruitless search for little Sarah when her sister Mollie Yoder turned into the lane with their family carriage.

“Hullo, Maryanna,” sweet Mollie called while tying the horse to the hitching post. Maryanna’s older sister by a few years, she wore her gray choring dress and black apron, some of her light auburn hair already falling free of her bun. “Came to keep ya company.” Her brown eyes were sad, and the area around them was puffy and red. “Jeremiah and I heard the news and went right to prayer. I came just as soon as morning chores were finished.” Mollie eyed the horse and walked toward
Maryanna, bringing two of her girls with her. “Whatever needs done, we’re here to help.”

Twelve-year-old Bertie smiled timidly—she’d been born with Bardet-Biedl syndrome. Bertie wore thick glasses to help her failing eyesight and had a tiny sixth toe on her right foot. In part due to her poor vision, she struggled with learning difficulties. Bertie’s genetic disorder was one of the reasons for Maryanna’s and her husband’s concern and faithful prayers for healthy children, each of whom had been tested in turn at the Clinic for Special Children. Bertie’s younger sister, Fannie, was blond like Bertie and had recently turned ten. Both girls now followed their mother toward the house, across the newly mown lawn and up the walkway.

Right from the very first, when they were young girls, Maryanna had sensed something special about this sister. With Mollie near, everything was going to be all right, no matter the circumstance. Even today, when Mollie opened her arms in greeting, Maryanna felt much more secure. But she had a strong urge to cry as she clung to her, though she tried to compose herself in front of her nieces. Bertie was especially sensitive to outbursts of emotion by others. They made the dear girl awful panicky.

Once indoors, out of the heat, Maryanna composed herself under Mollie’s sympathetic glances. She didn’t feel much like being a hostess, but Maryanna washed several clusters of red grapes and quartered some apples, glad she’d changed out the old red-checkered oilcloth on the table for the new blue-and-white one. She returned to the gas-powered refrigerator and reached for a large pitcher of cold meadow tea, then carried it to the table.

“Jeremiah was out searchin’ all night with the men,” Mollie said, looking mighty tired herself.

“Truly glad for that.”

“Some disbanded for rest a while ago, and to tend to livestock.” Mollie added that she’d made something for Jeremiah to eat right before coming. “That’s why it took us this long to get here.”

Maryanna understood. “No need to apologize.”

Bertie nodded, her hazel eyes blinking fast. “Jah, we had to do all of
Dat’s
mornin’ chores first.” She rubbed her plump belly. “But we didn’t mind.”

Fannie smiled, then looked quickly toward the window. “When did ya see Sarah last,
Aendi
Maryanna?” she asked.

It was all Maryanna could do to recount the story of last evening’s trip home from Paradise for Fannie and the others. But she tried to put herself in her precious nieces’ shoes—both Fannie’s and Bertie’s faces looked drawn as they listened to Maryanna’s account.

“Mattie Beiler and the bishop’s wife headed out to take food and water to the men looking for Sarah,” Mollie mentioned. “And to bring back those who needed to catch up with farm duties and whatnot.”

They settled down at the table, nibbling on the fruit, even though none of them probably cared much for a snack.

Where on earth is my Sarah?
Maryanna shook her head, feeling dizzy again.
Where?

Mollie touched her arm. “You didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, did ya?”

Maryanna refused to admit she’d only dozed in a chair, not wanting to seem to complain.

“Why don’t ya go upstairs and put your feet up for a while?” Mollie suggested kindly. “The girls and I will take care of everything—cook the noon meal and supper for ya, too.”

Maryanna didn’t need to say that her own children were out doing their many chores. Very soon they’d be running to
the house to greet Aunt Mollie, one of their favorite relatives. She certainly could trust Mollie to look after them.

I should let myself rest,
thought Maryanna, all in.
I need to be strong for Sarah’s sake … for all of my children.
She held her breath so she wouldn’t give in to tears. No matter how bleak things seemed, she refused to relinquish hope.

Joshua drank his fill of refreshing cold water, Buster panting nearby as the weary band of men, who were rotating in shifts, clambered onto the wagon.

In short order, they were on the way back to Hickory Hollow with Mary and Mattie. Many of the men promised to return later in the day, if need be.
If Sarah’s still missing,
thought Joshua with a great sigh.

In the meantime, all of them were committed to praying for God’s protection over the little girl and divine help in finding her.
Will someone defy the bishop and call the police now?
he wondered.

A half mile or so from his house, Joshua and Preacher Yoder got out of the wagon and started walking home. Joshua released Buster from the leash and set him free, watching as the devoted dog headed straight toward home. Buster had not wavered during the search, and for that Joshua was grateful.

Once home, Joshua turned on the spigot in the barn to water his beef cattle, troubled at the talk amongst several more of the men. A growing number believed someone must contact the police if Sarah wasn’t found by nightfall. The bishop had made yet another point of declaring God’s sovereignty.
“It won’t matter if we bring in Englischers or not, the outcome will be the same,”
he’d stated.

The men in question had bowed their heads, saying no more. The consensus was to heed their bishop.

Joshua was bone tired as he pondered all that had transpired, wondering how Maryanna was holding up. He imagined her look of happiness if he were to bring Sarah home to her. Ever since last night when the search began, he’d wanted to bring
gut
news—nothing like the heartrending news he’d delivered nearly three years ago.

He felt another twinge of guilt, the kind that occurred whenever he remembered the past, and he had to push it away. Maryanna didn’t hold him responsible for Benuel’s death. How many times had he told himself that? What had happened that day couldn’t have been helped. Nonetheless, not a day passed that he didn’t miss his dear friend, as close even as a twin brother.

Ach, so many losses. Benuel, Suzanne, and now … dear Lord God, please don’t add young Sarah to the list.

A few minutes later, Joshua heard the barn door slide open. He was a bit surprised to see Tobias Esh standing in the blinding sunlight. “Hullo there,” he called to the boy. “C’mon inside.”

“I seen you were back.” Tobias pulled hard on the barn door to close it.

“
Saw,
” Joshua corrected him.

“Jah, sorry. I can’t remember
gut
grammar.”

Joshua patted his shoulder. “The minute I’m finished here, I’ll be back out lookin’ for your sister. Retracing every step I took last night and this mornin’, too.”

Tobias hooked his thumbs on his black suspenders and looked up at him. “Thought you might’ve found her by now.” His voice sounded so forlorn, Joshua had to swallow to keep his own sentiments in check. In fact, he turned momentarily to conceal them. Then Tobias added, “I’d like to go along.”

“Well, I’m not sure what your Mamma’d say to that.”

“She won’t know, ‘cause she’s resting.”

This was a desperate boy. “I still think it’s best you tell her where you’re goin’… given the situation.”

“You honestly think I’d get myself lost like little Sarah?” Tobias pushed out his lower lip.

“Nee.” Joshua shook his head. “I know better.”

“I ain’t a little child … and I certainly ain’t a
girl
.”

Joshua was mindful not to smile. “No, you’re a determined young man, and I understand you want to help.”

“I surely do.” Tobias leaned over. “Mamma would never let me go.”

“Then you best not.”

“But we
have
to find Sarah. Mamma won’t be able to keep goin’ without my baby sister. I just know it.” Tobias shook his head. “Please, won’t ya just take me, too? We’ll be back before Mamma even knows.”

Torn between the pleas of his young friend and the fact that Maryanna Esh would never forgive him, Joshua put his hand on Tobias’s shoulder. “Listen to me, son… .”

Tobias frowned severely, his eyes glistening.

“I want ya to pay attention.” Brushing aside his slip, Joshua proceeded to remind Tobias of the pain his poor mother had suffered during the past few years, including now, with Sarah’s disappearance. “And what kind of people do ya think we’d be to add even a speck of worry to your Mamma’s load?”

Tobias wiped his eyes with the back of his arm, and for the longest time he was quiet other than a few sniffles.

“I’m not belittling your desire to help,” Joshua added. “
Begreife—
understand?”

Toby stared at him, the first time Joshua had witnessed the slightest hint of defiance in the lad. And then, ever so slowly,
Toby’s expression softened and he nodded his head. “All right, then. I’ll stay put at home. Like ya said to.”

“Thattaboy,” Joshua said, his heart heavy as Maryanna’s sympathetic son rose, stuck his hands in his pants pockets, and turned toward the barn door. Before he left, though, Tobias looked back at him and their eyes locked. It was then that Joshua realized he’d acted on behalf of his
gut
friend Benuel—Toby’s father wouldn’t have wanted to risk adding further worry to Maryanna.
Not for the world.

And neither did Joshua.

Maryanna gazed out the tall window across the bedroom, attempting to rest. She’d left the green shade up, needing the consolation of the blue sky. As a child, she’d often thought of a clear sky as a promise of good things to come. She sighed as her chest rose and fell. Her head pounded from lack of sleep and the misery of yearning. “Oh, Lord, please … I must have my little daughter home again,” she murmured. “How will I live, otherwise?”

She’d recalled the day of Sarah’s birth a dozen times or more since her disappearance. The miniscule weight of her darling newborn in her arms—where she longed for her girl to be now. The cuddly way her Boppli looked up at her, hazy blue eyes still learning to focus. Benuel had been near, sitting just across the room from her until Mattie had placed the tiny pink body on her own. Benuel had stepped over quickly, sliding his hand beneath Maryanna’s head as he kissed first her lips, then their baby’s pretty round head.