A Home for Hannah. Patricia Davids
over on the other side of Millersburg back then. It was our grandmother’s idea. She thought I should learn how hard it was to work a farm the way the Amish do. She thought it would give me a better appreciation of the land.”
“Grandmother is usually right,” Amber said with a twinkle in her eye.
“She is. Anyway, I worked there for two summers. Miriam, her brother Mark and I became good friends.”
“Why do I sense you and Miriam were more than friends?”
“We were kids. We fell in love with the idea of being in love, but she was strict, Old Order Amish. We both knew it wouldn’t work. We chose to remain friends. It wasn’t until a few years later that things changed.”
“What happened?”
Nick took a stick of gum from his pocket using the added time to keep his emotions in check. Even now, it was hard to talk about that night. He popped the gum in his mouth, deftly folded the foil into a small star and dropped it back in his shirt pocket.
“Ten years ago I was a brand-new deputy and a bit of a hotshot back then. I didn’t go looking for trouble, but I didn’t mind if I found it. One night, we got a report of a stolen car. On the way to investigate, I caught sight of the vehicle and put on my lights. The driver didn’t stop. Long story short, a high-speed chase ensued. A very dangerous chase.”
“What else were you supposed to do?”
“Protocol leaves it up to the responding officer’s discretion. What I should have done was drop back and stop pressing him when I saw the risks he was willing to take. I should have called for a roadblock to be set up ahead of us. I didn’t do any of those things. I kept after the car. It was a challenge to outdrive him, and I wasn’t about to back down.”
“It sounds like you were doing the job you’d trained to do. I know your father was killed during a traffic stop. I’m sure that made you doubly suspicious of anyone who tried to get away.”
She was right. “That did factor into my decision, but it shouldn’t have. I tried to get around the car, but we slammed into each other. The other driver lost control and veered into a tree. I’ll never forget the sight of that wreckage. The driver was killed instantly. It was Mark, Miriam’s twin brother.”
Amber laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you relive the whole thing.”
“You want to know the really ironic thing? I’m the one who taught Mark how to drive. I never understood why he didn’t just stop. He’d never been in trouble. I doubt he would have spent more than one night in jail. To have his life ended by a rumspringa stunt, a joy ride, it wasn’t right.”
“The Amish believe everything that happens is God’s will, Nick. They don’t blame you. That would be against all that they hold sacred.”
“Miriam blames me. I tried to talk to her after Mark’s funeral. Even months later she wouldn’t see me. As you can tell, her feelings haven’t changed.”
“Then she needs our prayers. Finding forgiveness is the only way to truly heal from such a tragedy.”
He lifted the car seat from the roof of Amber’s car. “You should get going. You don’t want the stork to get there ahead of you.”
Amber grinned. “You’re still planning on coming to my wedding, right?”
“Rats, when was that again? I might be fishing.”
She punched his arm. “A week from this coming Saturday and you’d better not stand me up for a trout.”
“Ouch, that’s assaulting an officer. I could arrest you for that.”
“Whatever. Phillip would just break me out of jail.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Absolutely—almost sure. Tell Miriam she can bring the baby into our office anytime tomorrow morning. I happen to know Dr. White has a light schedule. If the baby begins to act sick before then, she should take her to the hospital right away. She’s a nurse. She’ll know what to do.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Her expression became serious once more. “Nick, Miriam had to know when she called me that I would involve the law. She might not admit it, but I think she reached out to you.”
Nick considered Amber’s assertion as she drove away. What if she was right about Miriam’s actions? What if she was reaching out to him? Could he risk the heartbreak all over again if she wasn’t? He glanced toward the house. She had left her Amish faith. That barrier no longer stood between them, but the issue of Mark’s death did.
Nick was about to start a week’s vacation. If he left town now, he might never have another chance to heal the breach with Miriam. He wanted that, for both their sakes. In his heart, he knew there was a reason God had brought them together again.
He shook his head at his own foolishness. He was forgetting the most important part of this entire scenario. Somewhere there was a desperate woman who needed his help. She and her baby had to be his first priority.
* * *
Miriam decided to ignore Nick when he came into the kitchen again. He held a car seat in his hands. The kind that could easily be detached from the base and used as an infant carrier. He said, “Would you like me to put it in your car?”
“I’ll get it later.”
“Is there anything else you ladies need?”
“We’re fine,” Miriam said quickly, wanting him out of her house. She’d forgotten how he dominated a room.
Ada spoke up. “Would you mind bringing the baby bed down from the attic for us?”
His eyes softened as he smiled at Ada. “Of course not.”
“I’ll get it later, Mamm, I’m sure the sheriff has other things to do.”
“I’ve certainly got time to fetch the crib for your mother.”
His cheerful reply grated on Miriam’s nerves. She felt jumpy when he was near, as if her skin were too tight.
Her mother said, “Goot. Miriam, I’ll take Hannah.”
Miriam handed over the baby. Her mother smiled happily, then looked to the sheriff. “Nicolas, if you would give me the bottle warming on the stove, I’ll feed her.”
He lifted the bottle from the pan at the back of the stove. To Miriam’s surprise, he tested it by shaking a few drops of formula on his wrist, and then handed it over.
Did he have children? Was that how he knew to make sure a baby’s formula wasn’t too hot? Had he been able to find happiness with someone else, the kind of happiness that eluded her?
He caught her staring when he turned and asked, “Which way to the attic?”
She all but bolted ahead of him up the stairs to the second floor. The attic was accessed by a pull-down panel in the ceiling of her bedroom. She rushed into the room, swept up her nightgown and the lingerie hanging from the open drawer of her bureau, stuffed everything inside and slammed it shut. She whirled around to see him standing in the doorway.
Her bed wasn’t made. Papers and books were scattered across her desk. A romance novel lay open on her bedside table. The heat of a blush rushed to her face. For a second, she thought she saw a grin twitch at the corner of his lips. Her chin came up. “I wasn’t expecting company in my bedroom today.”
The heat of a blush flooded her face. She stuttered, “You know what I mean.”
Stop talking. I sound like an idiot.
Nick pointed to the ceiling. “Is that the access?”
“Yes.” She worked to appear calm and composed, cool even. It was hard when his nearness sent her pulse skyrocketing and made