Hannah's Journey. Anna Schmidt

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      “Ja.”

      “So they have stayed at home with their mother?” Gathering information from these people was like organizing a menagerie into a parade.

      “Sadly, their mother died in childbirth.”

      “I am doubly sorry for your losses, sir,” Levi said.

      Gunther smiled at Hannah. “Our Hannah has become like a mother to my younger girls,” he said. “God has blessed us.”

      “I see.” Levi would hardly have called the loss of two wives and Hannah’s husband a blessing, but he knew better than to debate the point.

      “We have indeed been blessed. I only hope God sees fit to bless us yet again by leading us to Caleb,” Hannah said in a barely audible voice.

      Levi hadn’t realized that he had continued to study Hannah far beyond the casual glance her comment might have indicated until Gunther cleared his throat and made a show of tasting his first bite of the pie. The two women followed his lead and all three smiled at Levi as if they had just tasted the best key lime pie ever made.

      But Levi had turned his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Here was Gunther, an experienced entrepreneur in his own right, and while Levi did not hold with divine intervention, he had to admit that Gunther had come along at a time when he could use the opinion of a fellow businessman. He needed someone he could trust, someone who had no interest in his business, to review the ledgers for the past season. A fresh set of eyes. But he dismissed the idea as ludicrous. How would an unschooled, Amish baker possibly find what he had not been able to uncover himself?

      He looked up and realized that once again Gunther had laid his napkin aside and this time he was standing. The two women had followed suit. Levi scrambled to his feet. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’m afraid that at about this time of night my mind often goes to the business of the day past and that to come tomorrow.”

      “You are worried?” Gunther’s eyes narrowed in sympathy.

      Levi shrugged. “Always. A great many people rely on me, sir.”

      “And who do you rely on, Levi Harmon?”

      The older man’s pale blue eyes were kind and concerned. It struck Levi that if his father had lived, he would be about the same age as this man was now. He felt his throat tighten with the bile of loneliness that he had carried with him from the day his parents had died. Instead of responding to Gunther’s question, he motioned for Hans to join them.

      “Hans, I believe our guests are ready to retire for the night. Will you show Mr. Goodloe to your quarters?”

      “If you don’t mind,” Gunther added, directing his comment to Hans.

      “Not at all, sir. I took the liberty of moving your belongings to my cabin while you were enjoying your supper.”

      “Then we’ll say good night.” Gunther waited while the two women nodded to Levi and Hans and walked down the corridor to the guest room. Then he clasped Levi’s shoulder. “May God be with you, Levi Harmon.”

      And as he watched Hans lead the older man to the plainer quarters, Levi understood that Gunther had not missed the fact that Levi had avoided answering his question. The fact was Levi had no response, for since he’d been a boy, there had been no one to watch over him.

      Chapter Four

      Hannah found sleep impossible that night. Her mind reeled. Where was her son and had he indeed run off with the circus, or was she on some wild goose chase while Caleb was out there somewhere alone? Every clack of the wheels might be taking her farther from him.

      She sat on the edge of the upper berth that she’d insisted on taking. Below her, Pleasant’s even breathing seemed to have fallen into a rhythm that matched the rumble of the train. Outside the window, Hannah saw the silhouette of telephone poles standing like sentinels in the fields. As the train rounded a bend, the noise flushed a flock of large blackbirds and they scattered into the night sky. The window faced east and she could see the breaking of dawn on the horizon.

      “Please keep him safe until I can come for him,” she prayed as she watched the sky turn from black to charcoal and then pink. “He is my life,” she added and closed her eyes tight against the memory of the long, lonely years that had passed since her husband’s death. Years when her only solace had been Caleb.

      Perhaps that was it. Perhaps she and others had put so much pressure on him in the absence of his father. How often had she heard someone remind him that he was now the man of the family? How often had someone suggested that she needed his support and help more than ever because all she had was him? Perhaps his need for freedom wasn’t that at all. Perhaps it was more a need to be what he was—a boy. A child.

      Oh, how she wished she might talk to someone—a male who might understand the workings of a young boy’s mind. Perhaps Mr. Winters, she thought.

      Outside the cabin door she heard footsteps. Given the early hour, she assumed it would be Hans Winters, up before dawn to see to the needs of his master and the guests. She eased herself down from the upper berth, taking care not to wake Pleasant and got dressed as quickly as she could, given the need to fumble blindly for the black straight pins that held the skirt and bodice of her dress in place. Once properly dressed, she wrapped her hair—grown now to past her waist—round and round her hand and coiled it into the casing of her prayer cap.

      When she slipped into the passageway, she paused for a moment listening for sounds. That way led to Hans’s quarters and the kitchen. The opposite way led to the observation room and dining room. She heard the clink of silver and assumed Hans would be setting the dining table for their breakfast.

      “May I help you?” she asked as she entered the opulent room. It would be the perfect opportunity to engage the servant in conversation. The two of them working together to prepare the room for breakfast.

      But instead of Hans, she found herself facing Levi. He was sitting at a small drop-down desk on one side of the large sideboard, stirring a cup of coffee. “Not unless you’ve a head for figures,” he grumbled.

      Actually, I do, Hannah thought but understood instinctively that the circus owner would no doubt laugh at the very idea that she might be able to solve whatever problem that he clearly could not. Still, if the idea brought a smile to his face that would certainly be preferable to the scowl that darkened his deep-set eyes at the moment. “I apologize,” she murmured, turning to go. “I assumed that Mr. Winters…”

      “Kitchen,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to the ledger before him.

      The table was already set so she turned to go. But she had retreated only two steps before he stopped her. “I’m sorry. Is there a problem, Hannah?”

      “Not at all,” she said brightly.

      “You slept well?” He seemed to be studying her features closely.

      “Not really,” she admitted, knowing that her face surely showed the effects of her restless night. “But it was not the accommodations,” she hastened to assure him. “The berth was quite comfortable and the rhythm of the train’s movement was a little like rocking a child.”

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