Her Amish Child. Lenora Worth

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       Chapter Two

      “I’m Naomi Bawell and this is my daughter-in-law, Raesha,” Naomi said, guiding Josiah Fisher into the kitchen. “We have fresh coffee and some bacon and biscuits. Are you hungry?”

      Josiah noted how she pronounced her name as Nah-oh-may. It rang lyrical inside his head. Naomi’s hair shined a grayish white but she had eyes of steel.

      Josiah’s nostrils flared and his stomach growled. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

      “No bother,” Naomi said. “Have a seat at the table and we will bring you food.”

      Josiah nodded. “Denke.”

      He kept glancing at the young woman who held the bobbeli so close. She averted her eyes and pressed the baby tight with one arm while she served him coffee with her free hand.

      Soon Josiah had a plate loaded with two fluffy biscuits and three crisp strips of bacon in front of him. But he couldn’t take a bite until he knew the truth.

      “You said the babe is not yours?”

      The room went still. Raesha Bawell’s pretty face paled to a porcelain white. She sat down across the table from him, her eyes on the now-sleeping baby in her arms.

      “We found her on our porch night before last,” she said, her tone low and calm, her gray eyes stormy with emotion. And resolve.

      Josiah’s heart beat too fast. He took in a breath. “Found her?”

      Naomi nodded. “Ja. Someone left her in a basket with a few supplies and a note. We got her all fed and cleaned up and we called in the bishop this morning. He agreed she could stay here for a few days to see if her mother returns. If that doesn’t happen, we might need to bring in the authorities. We can’t harbor a baby that might not be Amish.”

      “Josie—my sister—is still Amish. She has just lost her way.”

      Raesha’s head came up, her gaze full of determination. “Eat your food, Mr. Fisher. It’s growing cold.”

      Josiah bit into a biscuit, his stomach roiling but hunger overtaking him. Then he took a sip of the strong coffee. He knew they were waiting for him to say what was on all of their minds.

      “The bonnet,” he finally said. “Could I take a look at it?”

      Raesha glanced at her mother-in-law. Naomi nodded. Carefully, she lifted the dainty little knit cap from the baby’s head and handed it over to Josiah. Then she rubbed her fingers through the baby’s dark curls, her eyes full of sweet joy.

      Josiah’s heart did something odd. It slipped and stopped, then took off beating again. This woman holding that baby—it was a picture he would always remember. Raesha looked up and into his eyes. The warmth from the baby’s head was still on the soft threads of the little bonnet. He clutched the soft, warm fabric while the woman holding the baby watched him in a calm, accepting way.

      Then he glanced down at the pink bonnet, his eyes misting when he saw what he’d been looking for. “There,” he said, a catch of emotion clogging his throat. “My mamm stitched my sister’s initials in the tiny cap. DJF. Deidre Josephine Fisher. She did the same with all of our clothes but never made a big deal out of it in front of others since our father did not approve of showing off. Said it made them even more special because they were made with a mother’s love.”

      Rubbing his fingers over the tiny worn cap, he added, “Josie loved that little hat and kept it hidden in her dresser drawer. After the fire, she found it and made sure we took it with our other things to Ohio.” Holding tight to the worn knitted wool, he said, “She took it with her when she left.”

      Raesha let out a sigh that sounded like a sob. “Are you saying you think little Dinah could be your niece?”

      Josiah’s eyes held hers. “Her name is Dinah?”

      “We found the note,” Naomi explained. She stood and walked to where a basket sat on a counter. Then she brought him a white piece of paper.

      Josiah read the note, blinking back tears of both relief and grief. “My grandmother’s name was Dinah,” he said. “My sister, Josie, left Ohio two years ago and wound up in Kentucky. She was engaged to an Amish boy there. A gut man from what she told me. But I got word she’d broken the engagement and left. That was over a year ago.”

      Josie’s sudden departure from Kentucky had rattled Josiah to the core. She had written that she loved it there and she was very happy. He should have gone to Kentucky with her but he had work to do. They lived off their relatives’ kindness and Josiah felt obligated to stay and pay his onkel back. But then Josie had gone missing and one of his cousins had accused Josiah of not doing his share of the work. His family had become tired of his leaving to search for Josie.

      Now he felt hopeful for the first time in the last year of searching for his sister. Josie could still be nearby.

      “I hired a man to help me search,” he explained.

      “And did this man find anything?”

      “He is supposed to get in touch with me when he does. He knows I’m here. He is from this area and came highly recommended.”

      He hated to hurt Raesha any further but he had to believe what his eyes were telling him. “Ja, I do think this bobbeli could be my sister’s baby. I heard Josie might be headed this way and one reason I came back to Lancaster County was so I could search for her here.”

      Holding the bonnet tight in his hands, he looked at Raesha. “I might not find my sister but if this is her child, I’ve found something very precious.” Then he handed the bonnet back to Raesha, their eyes meeting. “But I have to believe my sister hoped I would find her baby and that’s why she left the child with you.”

      * * *

      Raesha stood and took the cap back from Josiah Fisher, a great tear rending her heart. While she felt for him, she couldn’t let him take this babe. He seemed to be a reasonable man. She prayed he’d listen to reason and not demand to take Dinah with him. “We will have to decide how to handle this.”

      “We should consult someone at the Campton Center,” Naomi said, her hands holding tight to her coffee cup. Then she looked at Josiah. “A few months ago, Judy Campton, an Englischer whose husband descended from the founders of Campton Creek, became a widow. She still lives in the Campton house in an apartment over the garage with her friend and assistant, Bettye, but she has opened her big home to the Amish as a community center where qualified Englisch can help us with certain issues. We now have doctors and lawyers and other experts available for no charge there. Even counselors. All volunteers.”

      Raesha watched Josiah’s face and saw his eyes widen. The man was handsome but the intensity in his brown eyes scared her. “Are you saying someone there can counsel us on this situation?”

      “Ja,” Naomi replied. “Now that we know you might be related СКАЧАТЬ