Melvin’s farm with his thermos full of coffee and a dozen oatmeal cookies in a box under his seat. He would spend the night again with his cousins near Berlin and be home by late afternoon on Monday. As the mailbox for Ezekiel Lapp came into view, John slowed his team and looked toward the house.
His own sister hadn’t joined the faith, choosing instead to marry a non-Amish fellow. Many Amish families had Englisch children and grandchildren who were accepted and cherished. He prayed that Willa and her daughters would find kindness and acceptance, too.
He slapped the reins to get his team moving faster. It was a long way to Bowmans Crossing. He had no cause to worry about a stranger and her family. He would never see them again. They were in God’s hands.
* * *
Willa raised her head and saw it was almost dark outside. She must have fallen asleep. Her head hurt from crying. She rose stiffly and stretched her aching back, then wiped her damp cheeks as she looked around. Were the girls still sleeping? That would be unusual.
She checked in the living room. The sofa was empty. She called their names, but neither of them answered. Where were they? Panic uncoiled inside her. Their coats were gone from the pegs where she had hung them. She yanked open the front door and saw them come out of the barn walking beside her grandfather.
Lucy saw her first and came running. “Mama, I saw a cow.”
Willa’s pounding heart slowed with relief. She dropped to one knee and hugged Lucy. “Did you? Was she a nice cow?”
Lucy nodded. “She licked her nose like this.” Lucy stuck her tongue out and tried to touch it to her nose.
“Cows poo in the dirt,” Megan said with a look of disgust.
Willa held back a chuckle as she rose to her feet. She stepped aside as her grandfather carried a red pail of fresh milk up the steps. From under the porch, half a dozen kittens came out meowing for their supper. Her grandfather handed Megan the pail. “Pour this in the pan for the kittens.”
“I help.” Lucy grabbed the side of the pail. The two girls poured out the milk while the kittens tumbled around their feet and into the aluminum pie pan.
She left Megan and Lucy to play with the cats and followed her grandfather inside.
“Thank you for watching the girls and letting me sleep.”
“You were worn-out.”
“I was. It has been a long time since I’ve had a peaceful night’s rest.”
He was silent for a long moment, then he glanced toward the porch. The girls were still playing with the kittens. “Out in the barn Megan told me that bad people are looking for her and Lucy. What did she mean?”
Willa decided to tell him and took a seat at the table. After all, what did she have to lose? “My husband, Glen, had a falling-out with his parents before he met me. He would never talk about it except to say that they wanted to lock him up. He was a good man. I can’t believe he did anything wrong.”
Even as she defended him, she knew it wasn’t entirely true. Glen found it easy to assume new identities and fabricate stories about where they came from without remorse, but he had been good to her.
“Go on,” her grandfather said.
“He was always worried that they would find us. We moved three times the first year we were married. Then the girls were born.”
Shame burned in Willa’s throat, but she forced herself to continue. “Trying to take care of fussy twins wore us down. I’m not making excuses, but it was hard. We didn’t have any help. Glen had to work and I was home alone with the babies. I never got enough sleep. I became...sick.”
Her grandfather wouldn’t understand the terrible things she had done. How could he when she didn’t understand them herself. She should have been stronger. The doctors at the hospital had called it postpartum psychosis. The voices telling her to hide her babies from Glen hadn’t been real. They had been delusions, but she had done all they told her to do, even wading into the cold, rain-swollen river with the babies in her arms. They all would have died that night if not for the quick-thinking intervention of a stranger.
Willa realized she had been staring into the past, trying to remember all that had happened, but so much of her memory was blank. “I spent four weeks in a hospital. Glen couldn’t manage alone. He contacted his parents, believing they would help for the sake of their grandchildren. They came, but they only wanted to take the girls away from us. They said we were unfit parents and that the law was on their side.”
Tears slipped down Willa’s cheeks and she brushed them away. Tears wouldn’t help anything. She had to be strong. It was up to her now. “Glen managed to get away with the babies before the police came. He picked me up at the hospital and we left town with only the clothes on our backs. We tried to start over, but we had to move so many times I lost count. After Glen died, I didn’t know what to do except to come here. If his parents find me, they will take the girls away and I’ll never see them again.”
“Will the Englisch police come here?”
“Maybe, I can’t be sure. I was careful not to tell anyone where I was going. I purchased a ticket for the next town down the road, but I got off the bus before then. People on the bus may remember us. An Amish fellow gave us a lift here, but he wasn’t from this area. I do know Glen’s parents won’t stop looking for the girls, but it will be hard to find us among the Amish.”
He stared into his coffee cup for a long time. Finally, he glanced at her. “Up in the attic you will find a black trunk. There are clothes that you and the girls can wear in it. They will be warmer than what they have on now. They are goot Amish clothes. If you mean to rejoin the faith, you must dress plain.”
“Does this mean we can stay?” She was afraid to hope.
“With me, nee. Go to my sister, Ada Kaufman. She was also shunned by our church, but I hear she has kept to the Amish ways in a new church group in Hope Springs.”
Willa had fond memories of her great-aunt Ada, a kindly and spry woman with a son and daughter a few years older than Willa. A flicker of hope came alive inside her chest. She still had family she could go to.
The thought of spending Christmas with her aunt and cousins Miriam and Mark made Willa smile. They’d had some fine times together in the old days. Her cousins might be married with children of their own by now. Her daughters could have cousins to celebrate the holidays with the way she once did.
“Do you think Ada will help me?”
“That, I cannot say. I have an old buggy and a horse you can use to travel there.”
“How far is it?” Willa had never heard of Hope Springs.
“Three days’ travel to the east, more or less.”
Three days by buggy with the girls. It would be next to impossible. Where would they stay at night? What would they eat? She had no money. And yet, what choice did she have except to go on faith? There was no going back now. “Danki, Daddi. What made you change your mind?”
“Your children deserve the chance to know our ways. I pray Gott opens your heart and that you seek true repentance. When you do so, you will be welcomed here.”
“I’ll send you money for the horse and buggy when I can,” she promised.
“I want no money from you. They are a gift to your children. You may all sleep upstairs in your old room, but you must leave at first light on Monday.”
It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but she wasn’t beaten yet. Perhaps her great-aunt’s family would be like the kind Amish man she had met that afternoon. The memory of his solid presence and quiet kindness filled her heart with renewed hope. She wished she had been bold enough to ask his name. She would remember him in her prayers.
* * *
Three days after delivering his restored sleigh,