Leah's Choice. Emma Miller
the boy protested. “The bad wolf might come and—”
“We’ll lock the gate,” Leah assured him. “The goats will be fine until the farmer comes tomorrow.” She took Joey’s hand. “Daniel?”
“It’s still pretty nasty out there,” he said, glancing into the dark as he grabbed his wet jacket. The rain was still coming down, though not as hard as before. “Maybe you and Joey should stay here while I go for—”
Leah laughed, her flashlight beam steady on the gate. “And do you remember the way back to the Beachy farm? Or will we have to send a search party out for you?”
He chuckled and looked down at his wet shoes. “You’re probably right.”
“I am. Now come on…we’ll go together. All three of us.”
“I guess we do make a pretty good team,” Daniel dared. He liked the sound of her laughter. She was teasing him, but not in a mocking way. She was teasing as a friend might tease another friend. It gave him a good feeling; he’d made a good friend in Seven Poplars. He had a big family, but in their travels it hadn’t always been easy to make friends and keep them. Leah was a special young woman, and he hoped he’d see her again after tonight.
The walk back to Joey’s house didn’t seem as far as it had on the way out. Another search party met up with them in the pasture. Joey’s uncle was with them, and he’d whooped for joy and picked the boy up and carried him back to the house on his shoulders.
At the Beachy house, the adults and most of the children were still awake. Men stood on the porch and outside the back door drinking cups of steaming black coffee, and someone thrust a cup into Daniel’s hand. Joey was hugged and fussed over and trundled off into the house by his mother and a gaggle of women. Leah was caught up in the crowd and vanished along with the boy.
“Good work for a city boy,” Samuel Mast said as he slapped Daniel on the back. He was grinning. Everyone was.
“Leah Yoder deserves the credit,” Daniel insisted. “She was the one who thought to go where the hay was stored. The weather had gotten so bad, I thought we should turn back.”
“But if the boy wasn’t hurt, why didn’t he run home before it got dark?” A bearded Amish man stuck his hand out and Daniel shook it. “Roman Byler,” he said. “I own the chair shop down the road.”
Daniel began to explain about the dog that Joey thought was a wolf that had chased him and the pregnant goat. Before he knew it, Joey’s mother was ushering Daniel into the house and waving him to a place at the table. Other men were already there, eating sandwiches and vegetable soup.
“To warm your insides,” Joey’s father said.
Daniel hadn’t thought he was hungry, but after the first bite, he remembered that he hadn’t eaten anything since he’d stopped for lunch on the interstate at about one o’clock. After the mishap at the rest stop, when he’d left his coat, he’d ended up running late and hadn’t had time to stop and eat before he reached Seven Poplars. The ham sandwich was good, and the soup delicious. He hadn’t had a better meal since he’d last sat at his mother’s table.
The large kitchen was overflowing with men and women, most talking to each other in Pennsylvania Dutch, laughing and joking. Daniel was surprised by how at home he felt here among these people, even though he didn’t speak their language. But the one person he kept looking for he didn’t see. He’d wanted to tell Leah how much he appreciated her help and what a great job she’d done. Soon the sun would be coming up, and he was tired. He hated to leave without saying goodbye to Leah.
Finally, when the men began to take their leave, Daniel stood, thanked his host and hostess and made his way out to where he’d left his pickup truck. Buggies were rolling out of the farmyard, and men, hands in pockets, walked off into the soft darkness.
He was disappointed that he hadn’t seen Leah, but he knew he should go. Even though his aunt knew where he was, she’d be worried about him. He put his hand on the driver’s door handle and was about to get into his truck when Leah appeared from around the back of the pickup.
“A goodnight to you, Daniel Steiner,” she said.
He looked up at her. “Excuse me?”
“I said goodnight to you, Daniel Steiner,” she repeated.
“I’m not Daniel Steiner.”
“You’re not?” Leah sounded confused. “But I thought you were Caroline’s cousin and—”
“Oh,” he said, understanding the mixup. “Caroline is my cousin. She’s a Steiner, but her mother is my aunt. I’m a Brown, Daniel Brown.”
“Daniel Brown.” Her pretty blue eyes widened. “The Daniel Brown…the speaker we were supposed to hear tonight?”
“That’s me.” Feeling awkward, he slipped his hands into his pockets. He really liked Leah, so much so that he didn’t want to say goodbye. “We’re going to reschedule for another night this coming week. I hope you…you and your friends can come back.”
“You’re the Daniel Brown—the hero who saved that boy from the mob?”
“Hardly a hero,” Daniel protested.
“I didn’t know…” She hesitated. “Now I feel foolish. I spent the whole night with you and I never asked you about your travels. I never…” She stopped and started again. “I really feel foolish.”
“Don’t. It was a natural mistake.” He struggled to find the right thing to say. He didn’t want her to walk away feeling embarrassed. “I’ll be looking for you—at the presentation. I hope you aren’t disappointed.”
“Ne,” Leah said. “You couldn’t disappoint anyone, Daniel Brown. Least of all me.”
“I’ll see you there, then?”
“Leah?” A woman called from the porch. “Are you ready?”
“Ya,” she answered. “Coming.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad you were with me tonight.”
“Me, too.”
“What you said before,” she murmured shyly. “I agree. We made a good team.”
“We did,” he concurred. And then she turned and hurried off, leaving him standing there staring after her and wishing she wasn’t going.
Chapter Four
The following morning, as golden rays of April sunlight spilled through the bedroom window, Leah sighed and snuggled deeper beneath the crisp blue and white Bear’s Paw quilt that had been her Christmas gift from her eldest sister, Johanna. Below Leah’s window, from a perch on the top rail of the garden fence, a wayward rooster crowed. Just a few more minutes, Leah thought, burrowing under her pillow. All I want is a few more…
A high-pitched giggle pierced her groggy haze. “You a-wake, Leah? Mam made pancakes!”
Leah caught the scent of fresh coffee, felt the mattress bounce and groaned. It had been nearly daylight when she’d finally gotten to bed, and she couldn’t have had more than three hours’ sleep.
“An’ bacon!” proclaimed the cheerful voice.
Leah opened one eye and smiled into the round, red-cheeked face hovering only inches from her own. “Morning, Susanna-banana,” she mumbled.
Her sister giggled again. “I’m not a banana. Get up, silly. I’m hungry.” She pushed a mug of coffee under Leah’s nose. “Brought you coffee.” It came out sounding more like toffee, but Leah had no trouble understanding Susanna’s sometimes childish speech.
“You’re always hungry,” Leah replied, but it was impossible to remain out of sorts with Susanna, even too early on a visiting Sunday when there was no church and