An Amish Reunion. Jo Ann Brown

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       Chapter One

      Paradise Springs

      Lancaster County, Pennsylvania

      The knock came at the worst possible moment.

      Hannah Lambright had her grossmammi partway to her bed where she could look out, through the cold rain, at the covered bridge over Hunter’s Mill Creek until she fell asleep for her afternoon nap. Grossmammi Ella depended on Hannah to help her. She refused to use a cane, not wanting to be considered old, though she’d recently celebrated her 90th birthday.

      Smoothing the blanket over her grossmammi, who’d already closed her eyes, Hannah hurried from the room. She wiped her hands on her black apron and pushed loose strands of hair under her white kapp. The impatient rapping continued. She opened the door. Words fled from her mouth and her brain as she stared at a handsome face she’d never expected to see at her door. She couldn’t be mistaken about the identity of the man with sleek black hair beneath his dripping straw hat and deep blue eyes set below assertive brows. Her momentary hope that she was looking at his twin brother vanished when she noticed the cleft in his chin.

      “Daniel Stoltzfus, why are you here?” she asked.

      “Is she yours?”

      Only then did she realize Daniel held a wicker container about the size of a laundry basket. A little girl, her golden hair in uneven braids sticking out like a bug’s antennae, was curled, half-asleep in the basket. Chocolate crumbs freckled her cheeks. The kind wore an Englisch-style pink overall and a shirt with puffy sleeves. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen months old.

      “Mine?” she choked.

      The little girl’s dark brown eyes opened. Her chubby, adorable face displayed the unmistakable characteristics of Down syndrome.

      “I was on my way to the covered bridge when I saw her in your side yard,” he replied. “By the time my buggy stopped and I could get out, she’d disappeared behind the house.”

      “My honeybees are out there! Did she get stung?”

      “I don’t think so. Is this kind yours?”

      She recoiled from the strong emotions darkening his blue eyes. Behind his question, she heard unspoken accusations. An answer of ja would mean not only was she an unmarried woman with a kind, but she let the toddler wander near her beehives.

      After the five months she and Daniel had walked out together three years ago, did he know so little about her? Didn’t he know she was the dependable one? As she’d been since her mamm died when she was ten years old. When she dared to trust someone again, she’d chosen Daniel Stoltzfus, who’d broken her heart.

      “I don’t know who she is,” Hannah said, determined to keep her thoughts to herself. “Just because she was in my yard—”

      “And this basket was on your porch. She must have crawled out of it.”

      “Why would someone leave her on my front porch?”

      “I’ve got no idea.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s raining. Can we come in?”

      Hannah could think of a dozen reasons to say no, but nodded. She couldn’t leave a young kind out in the cold and damp...nor Daniel.

      He set the basket on the well-worn sofa and squatted beside it. When the little girl sat and began to whimper, he said, “It’s okay, liebling. You’re safe.”

      She didn’t know if the little girl knew the word meant sweetheart, but the kind began to calm as she gazed at him, trying to figure out who he was.

      Hannah bit back a sad laugh. After months with him, she’d been shocked when he turned out not to be the man she’d thought he was. She shook those thoughts aside. The kind should be her sole concern.

      The little girl moved, and Hannah heard a crackle. A crumpled and wet envelope was stuck in the basket. Hannah took it and removed a single piece of wet paper. How long had the basket and the toddler been in the rain? She peeled the damp edges apart and was relieved the writing hadn’t been smudged.

      “What does it say?” Daniel asked.

      She read aloud, “Shelby is your sister. Take care of her.” Looking at the kind, she asked, “Are you Shelby?”

      The little girl blinked.

      “I guess Shelby is her name.” He began to make faces at the little girl. “Does it say anything else?”

      Hannah gasped when she saw the signature.

      Daed.

      In the fifteen years since he’d left after her mamm’s death, her daed hadn’t written her a single letter. At first, she’d thought it was because he’d been placed under the bann when he abandoned his faith along with his only kind. Later, he’d sent postcards from the places around the United States and Canada. Nevada and Florida. California and Mississippi. Manitoba and Texas. Never anywhere near Paradise Springs. And never with any message other than Daed.

      Until now.

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