When you saved both of them from who knows what? Albert, you may not be Amish, but we trust you. You’ll never know how grateful I am that it was you who came along when I needed you most.”
“I suppose it was meant to be,” Albert offered slowly. “His plan. I’m just glad I could help.”
Rebecca climbed down out of the buggy, and Hannah quickly filled her in on what had happened. “We’ll tie Taffy to the back and take her to the barn, and put Susanna to bed,” she continued. “Albert and I are going to walk David home—”
“No need for you to put yourself out.” Albert started to lead the pony around to the back of the buggy. “I can take David home.”
“Ne, Albert,” Hannah replied. She gave Susanna a gentle push in Rebecca’s direction. “I need to come. David’s mother has to know what he was up to. I don’t think she’ll be any more pleased with this night’s mischief than I am.”
Chapter Two
All I need now is for Bishop Atlee to drive past and see me walking down the road after midnight in my bathrobe and house slippers—accompanied by two men, Hannah thought wryly.
She supposed the wisest thing would have been for her to go back to the house and get dressed, but that would have taken more of Albert’s time, and the Yoder family had already put him out a great deal tonight. Her oversize wool scarf and dark blue, ankle-length bathrobe covered more of her than her everyday dresses. She might not be conventionally garbed for an Amish woman, but no one could say she wasn’t decently covered.
She was sure that Albert, a Mennonite born-and-bred, with more than the usual allotment of sense for a man, would understand her stretching the rules of proper dress due to the emergency. After all, wasn’t Albert practically a member of the family? His nephew, John, was married to her daughter Grace.
Albert had been a friend and veterinarian to the Seven Poplars Amish community for many years, and as long as Hannah had known him, he’d always treated her with the greatest respect. To put a fine point on it, Albert treated her as an equal, as a person with a brain in her head. She was certain that Albert wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with her under these circumstances.
It was a short walk from her mailbox to the driveway of the Kings’ farmhouse. Only one motor vehicle passed them, a small car, not the tow truck that Albert had called to bring the disabled buggy home. She and Albert kept their pace slow enough for David, who was often distracted and had to be reminded to stay on the shoulder. David never did anything quickly, and any attempt to hurry him would have triggered upset and possibly tears. Hannah had no wish to deliver him to his parents in an emotional dither.
Hannah liked David, and she liked his mother and father. They’d done a good job raising him, and she was sure that he’d never given them reason to think he’d sneak out with a girl to go to Dover. Tonight would be an awakening for the Kings as much as it was for her. David and Susanna, who had always been obedient, had suddenly become problem children.
Fifteen minutes later, Hannah and Albert were back at the spot where Hannah’s driveway met the road. David was safely in the care of his parents, and everyone had agreed that nothing good would come from trying to hash this mess out tonight. Albert had insisted on walking Hannah home, although that had felt silly. She was a woman in her late forties, a schoolteacher and a mother who’d been managing her farm and her affairs for years. She was certainly capable of following her own lane back to her home without an escort.
“Call me old-fashioned,” Albert said, trudging along beside her. He hadn’t been put out by her objection. If anything, he sounded amused. “I just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t see you safely to your door.” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “It’s not the same world we grew up in, Hannah. You read the papers. All kinds of craziness going on.”
“I try to stay away from the world as much as possible,” she replied. It was what her Amish faith taught. Be not of this world. The Amish were a people apart, living not so much for today as for their future in heaven.
Albert was a member of the Mennonite Church, another Anabaptist sect that shared a long history with the Amish. The two faiths had separated before they came to America in the eighteenth century. The Amish believed that the Mennonites were too worldly, and Amish founders felt it necessary to remain separate. Today, the Mennonites did charity work with the general public and spread their religion through worldwide missions. The Amish kept to themselves and did not evangelize.
Hannah herself had been born and raised in the more liberal Mennonite faith, but she’d become Amish when she married Jonas Yoder. Although it had cost her dearly, she’d never regretted her decision.
“Wickedness,” Albert continued. “Riots, bombings. People using violence against their neighbors.”
“I hardly think there’s going to be a riot in my farmyard tonight,” she teased. “My sister-in-law Martha isn’t all that fond of me, but I doubt even she wants to harm me. And my other neighbors are my daughters, my sons-in-law and my grandchildren, so I feel pretty safe.”
“You hear stuff on the news every day. I can’t help but worry.”
“Maybe you should stop listening to the radio and watching television.”
“Evil happens.”
“Ya,” she conceded. “It does. The best we can do is to live according to our conscience, treat one another as the Bible teaches us and pray that God will see to the rest.”
“I suppose.” Albert was a middling-size man, broad shouldered, with a sturdy body, chestnut-brown hair and a pleasant face. Usually, he walked with a vigorous stride, making him seem younger than his fifty-odd years, but since his father’s death two months ago, Albert had lost the spring in his step.
Hannah and most of the Amish community had attended the funeral, and everyone had noted how hard Albert had taken the elderly man’s passing. It was natural, she supposed. Albert had never married, and he and his father had lived together ever since Albert had joined the veterinary practice. Maybe Albert was lonely, Hannah thought. John had moved out when he finished building his new house, and now Albert lived alone. His days were full of work, but maybe he missed having someone at the supper table to swap stories with.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t worried about Susanna,” he said. “I know better. You’re a woman who’s always put her children first. I’ve always admired that about you, Hannah, that you are such a great mother. And the way your girls turned out proves that you did most things right.”
Hannah’s throat tightened and she concentrated on the beam of light on the ground in front of them. Rebecca’s flashlight was a good one, and it was easy to follow the hard-packed gravel drive. For the first time, she felt a little uncomfortable around Albert. She wasn’t used to discussing private matters with outsiders. Although he’d proven himself to be a good friend to both her and her late husband, this subject was awkward. “I do worry about Susanna’s future, naturally,” she admitted stiffly. “But I have to trust in God’s plan for her.”
“You think He has a plan for each of us?”
“Of course.” She was so surprised that she stopped walking and stared at him. “Don’t you?” She knew that Albert was a faithful member of his church, and she’d assumed that he felt the same way.
“Sometimes I think so. But sometimes...”
She heard him exhale slowly.
“Sometimes I wonder if God spoke to me but I didn’t listen... If I’ve waited too late to do what I should have done years ago.”
She pressed her hand against her midsection to keep from touching him. Albert was obviously distressed. Had he been one of her children or sons-in-law, she would have reached out to him to touch his shoulder or take his hand, but they were alone. It wasn’t proper that she have physical contact with a man not related to her. “In what way?” she asked. “How do you feel that you failed?”