dish filled with steaming scrambled eggs, then another with a selection of breads and rolls, and finally offered each guest butter and jam. Meanwhile, the maid traveling with them filled glasses with milk and offered coffee and tea.
Through all of this Levi kept up a running conversation about the countryside they were traversing. “I’m afraid the boom times ended for Florida after the hurricane of ’26,” he said.
“And yet your business seems to be thriving,” Gunther replied.
“Even in hard times people need to be entertained,” Levi replied. “Perhaps especially in hard times.” Knowing it was inevitable, Levi extended his hands to Pleasant and Gunther. “Shall we pray?”
It took a moment before he realized that because he had extended the invitation, the others were waiting for him to bow his head. Forgetting that Amish grace was said in silence, he cleared his throat and murmured thanks for the food and the company and then added, “And may today bring Hannah the news she needs to know that her son is safe. Amen.”
When he looked up he was surprised to see Gunther frowning and Hannah blushing. For her part, Pleasant had focused all of her attention on the food before her and he couldn’t help but wonder what law of propriety he had just broken. Was it the prayer? He hadn’t prayed in years and yet thought he had done a passable job of offering grace before a meal. And then he understood his mistake. It was bad enough that he had offered the prayer aloud, but he had also singled Hannah out for special attention and called her by her given name.
“I apologize, sir,” he said, refusing to ignore the situation. “It’s just that we are all concerned about your grandson and I suppose that has made me feel a particular closeness to your family. Nevertheless, I was too familiar just now. I hope you will forgive my lapse in manners.”
“Not at all,” Gunther replied. “We are in your world now. I am honored that you have shown such concern for my grandson’s well-being. If you are more comfortable calling us by our given names, then that’s the least we can do.” He drank a long swallow of his milk. “I have noticed that Mr. Winters is distinctly uncomfortable with such formality,” he added.
“You are very observant, sir. And very kind.”
He saw that Gunther took the compliment in stride without acknowledging it. Instead, he evidently decided that a fresh round of introductions was in order. “And so we are the Goodloe family. I am Gunther and my daughter is Pleasant and as you have observed, Caleb’s mother is Hannah.”
“And I am Levi.” He shook hands with Gunther then smiled at Pleasant whose lips were pursed into a worried pucker as if unsure of what to make of all this. Finally, he looked at Hannah who met his gaze directly.
“And my son is Caleb,” she said softly. “And today, God willing, we shall find him and not trouble you further, Levi.”
As promised, they arrived in the small town of Jonesville an hour later. On the way into town the train slowed and then paused as Levi’s private car was moved to a siding next to a large field. From her position on the observation deck at the back of the car, Hannah could see dozens of workers, some hammering in the long stakes that would hold the huge circus tent in place. Other workers performed the same task as a dozen smaller tents went up on the property.
“That one is the cooking tent and next to it the dining tent,” Levi told them as Gunther, Pleasant and Hannah leaned out over the scrolled and turned-brass railing of the deck for a better view. “Wardrobe,” he continued, “dressing rooms, makeup, props.”
“It’s like a city in itself,” Hannah observed and she was beginning to understand how such activity might have captivated Caleb. “It’s so colorful and…”
“Exciting,” Pleasant whispered. Then she glanced at her father and added, “If you enjoy that sort of thing.”
“So many people,” Hannah said as she scanned the throng of workers for any sign of her son.
“We’ll find him,” Levi said quietly. Then in a more normal tone he added, “Care to watch the unloading of the wagons, Gunther? I promise you it’s worth every minute of your time.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting off this train and stretching my legs on firm ground a bit,” Gunther replied.
Levi opened the small gate that led to three steps and disembarked. From the ground he held out a hand to Pleasant. “Ladies,” he invited as he escorted them safely to the ground. Then he waited for Gunther to navigate the short flight of steps before beginning the tour.
“There are forty flatcars for transporting the wagons,” he said as he headed toward a siding where the line of cars with their cargo of painted and gilded circus wagons waited. “A wagon can weigh as much as six tons,” he added, and Hannah saw that her father-in-law was intrigued in spite of his reservations about coming too close to this outside world.
“You use Belgians to do the heavy work,” Gunther noted, nodding toward a matched pair of large black horses dragging a ramp into place at the end of one flatcar.
“Belgians, Percherons, Clydesdales,” Levi replied. “They serve double duty as both work horses and performance animals. But the men will handle the actual work of taking the wagons off the flatcars.”
The four of them watched in silence as the work crew set a ramp in place at one end of the flatcar. Then a crew member took hold of the wagon’s tongue and carefully steered the wagon toward the ramp.
“This is where things get tricky,” Levi said. “If he loses control and the wagon starts to roll too quickly then we risk injuring a worker. So that man there—a ‘snubber’—will control the speed using that network of ropes and capstans.”
Hannah held her breath as the unwieldy wagon gained speed and threatened to topple over on its way down the ramp. Safely on the ground another member of the crew hitched it to the team of horses, climbed aboard and drove it across the lot. Then the process began all over again.
“It’s a lot of work,” Gunther observed.
“Especially when you realize that after tonight’s performance we’ll simply reverse the process and move on to the next town.”
“Are those the tents for housing the animals?” Hannah asked, recalling the notice for a stable boy that she and Caleb had seen on the grounds in Sarasota.
“Yes. Gunther, why don’t you and Pleasant go over there to the dining and cook tents and see if there’s any sign of the boy while Hannah and I check out the animal tents?”
Before Gunther could object, Levi had started off toward a large tent where Hannah could see horses and elephants stabled. Without a backward look she followed him.
While Levi spoke with the men working the area, she searched for Caleb. Methodically, she checked every stall and gently prodded every pile of hay that looked bulky enough for a boy to be hiding under with the toe of her shoe. Nothing.
She had searched the large open-aired tent from one end to the other and found no sign of her son. Now she stood at the entrance to the tent looking out across the circus grounds, wondering where he might be and praying that she had not made a mistake in guessing that he had left with the circus.
“Mrs. Goodloe?”
She turned at the sound of Levi’s call. He was walking toward her with another man. The sun was behind them, streaming in from the far end of the tent and both men were in silhouette, and yet there was something about Levi’s confident stride that made her know him at once. The other man was a stranger. She focused on Levi, willing him to break free of the shadows and give her the news she’d prayed to hear—that Caleb had been found.
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