The Guardian (7 page)

She rolled over and closed her eyes. Now their last babe was gone, and she didn’t know where.

How could I let this happen?
She’d asked herself the question in various ways, gasping under the weight of guilt. One thing was certain—such a thing wouldn’t have happened if Benuel were alive. Nor perhaps if her children had a good and loving stepfather.

Not until today had Maryanna considered the notion that she was depriving her children of a man to be their covering under almighty God—a father to love and protect her children. Truth be told, they needed someone to look up to and obey, and someone to call Dat.
Especially since it seems their mother hasn’t done such a good job,
she thought, letting the tears roll down her face.
I’ve failed them miserably.

“Thy will be done”
came to mind again, and she felt as if she’d failed the Lord, as well. Had she made little Sarah an idol in her heart, binding herself up in what Sarah wanted or needed—Sarah’s antics? Did she live her life to please her little one, like Abraham of old, who struggled to give up his hold on Isaac?

Do I
adore my youngest child more than God?

In that moment, Maryanna knew what the Lord required of her. Too weary to get up and kneel, she folded her hands and lay prone before her Father in heaven, praying silently.
I am willing to release my daughter Sarah to you, O God, entrusting her completely to you. I do this with your help and yours alone, through your only Son, Jesus Christ, my Lord… .

U
sing the house phone, Jodi once more dialed the nonemergency number for the police department. Since Scott hadn’t immediately returned her call, she’d leave her cell phone open. He and Paige were most likely enjoying the sun and surf on the Oregon coast.

While Jodi was put on hold to speak to an officer, her cell phone rang—it was George Stringer, her gregarious middle-aged principal. Deciding she might be on hold for an eternity, she answered her cell, hoping an officer wouldn’t answer while she took George’s call.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Jodi. George Stringer here. How are you?”

“Doing well. How’s your summer going?”

“Could be better,” he said. “So I hear you’re in Pennsylvania. Are you enjoying Amish country?”

She filled him in quickly on why she’d come, and they exchanged a few more casual remarks.

Then he paused, exhaling into the phone. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Now what?
she thought, remembering the dreaded third-fourth teaching combo.

“The district is cutting back across the board,” he explained. “It can’t be helped. And I want you to know I tried my best to spare your job.”

No … not my teaching position!

Jodi did her best to take the staggering news like a professional. Somehow she managed to calmly express her disappointment. “I’ll really miss working with you, George, and all the teachers at the school,” she said, realizing in that moment how proud her father would be of her … for taking the high road when she wanted to grovel and plead and ask if there wasn’t something she could do to save her first-ever teaching job. But she kept her tone respectful.

She fought back tears, wishing she’d had one more year under her belt so tenure might have saved her. But instead she was discovering the meaning of “last in, first out.”

“I know you’d be very welcome in the district as a regular substitute,” George mentioned. “If you choose to take that route.”

A sub when I was so close to tenure?
Talk about starting over!

She thanked him, not really interested in considering that course, then said good-bye. No, she still hoped she could land another full-time position in a nearby district before school began.

While the little girl slept, Jodi cradled the house phone under her chin, still waiting for someone,
anyone
to pick up and take her call at the police station. She occupied herself by sending texts on her cell phone to several of her closest teacher friends … and to Trent. To think she had been so very proud of her first-year work ethic and teaching abilities.

If only it weren’t so late in the summer.
All the same, Jodi was
anything but a quitter. Tonight she’d get busy tweaking her resume and send it out all over New England.

It struck her as ironic that Trent had taken leave of his tenured position to teach overseas. It was almost as if he had
two
jobs, and she had none.

Within minutes, she had responses from three of her teacher friends in Arlington, declaring their school day would never be as stimulating or fun without her.
Besides, who’s going to bring healthy snacks to get us through the day?
wrote another. But none of them truly understood the sting of sadness and disillusionment Jodi felt.

Trent texted her next.
Hon, I know how upset you must be.

She returned the message, saying she hoped to pick up some subbing for a while, if nothing else.
And who knows, if I hurry, maybe I can still line something up. But I really dislike the idea of moving.

He didn’t text back right away, and she sat quietly considering her principal’s call. George Stringer had been such an encourager from the very first time she interviewed with him. And not only to her, but to the entire staff. She could only imagine how amazing things might be at this moment had she begun her teaching career earlier, straight out of college, and not opted to first get her master’s degree in child psychology.

Jodi wondered how her parents might respond when she informed them of her lousy news. But that would have to wait until she’d had some time to process this for herself.

Suddenly, the house phone clicked off, giving way to a dial tone. She’d been disconnected! Determined to speak to someone, she dialed again, this time getting a busy signal.

Jodi forced air out of her mouth—she’d try again in five minutes. Carefully, she rose from her comfortable spot, not wanting to awaken the exhausted little girl. She wandered
about the living room, then down the hallway, still in a daze, thinking of all the creative plans she’d made for her third graders—interactive bulletin boards ready to assemble; thematic centers for science, art, and writing; even a cozy rug for a reading nook—all stored in her apartment back in Arlington.

It’s not the end of the world,
she told herself. But if not, why did she feel such panic?

Jodi’s gaze fell on the preschooler on the couch as she meandered back into the living room. Surely it was unreasonable to be so upset about losing a job when a mother somewhere out there had lost her child.

But she’s safe,
Jodi thought, staring at the girl.
And she’ll be home soon.

Jodi slipped away to the main-level guest room where she was sleeping and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to shake off her disappointment.
I can’t let this get me down,
she thought, noticing for the first time a lovely carved plaque across from her, near the chest of drawers. How had she missed seeing this?
“Trust the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding… .”

One of Karen’s favorite verses.
But spotting it now jolted her. ” ‘And do not rely on your own understanding,’ ” Jodi said softly, refusing more tears. It would not do for her to seem despondent when she returned to the living room and the lost little girl.

––

Back in the living room, Jodie used her cousin’s phone to dial the police station, only to again be put on hold
.
She felt she might lose her wits, considering everything that had transpired this morning. She glanced at the youngster, who’d awakened and was presently sitting next to the cat on the living room floor, still wrapped in her towel. In spite of everything, Jodi had to smile as she listened to her talk soothingly to Gigi in
her own language, leaning her head down to nearly touch the cat’s nose with her own.

Lost in thought, Jodi started when her cell phone rang and Scott’s number appeared.

She hung up the house phone and promptly answered her cell. “Am I ever glad you called!”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

She filled him in on finding the child and calling the police station for advice. “But I haven’t been able to connect with anyone yet.”

“Do you think she might be abandoned?” Scott’s voice was solemn.

“I wondered that, too. But it’s hard to believe.”

“Well, why?”

“She’s just so beautiful … absolutely darling. And anyway, who would desert a child?” She watched the little sweetie pat Gigi’s tummy. “And while she’s worn out and hungry, she looks like she’s used to being fed well. Yet on the other hand, when I found her, she was barefoot and without clothes.”

“Really?”

Jodi described how meagerly she was clothed. “She also has a big bump on her forehead and bruises on her arm and leg.”

“Did she tell you anything?”

“She speaks no English, far as I can tell.”

“No kidding.”

“Almost sounds German … but I’m not sure.” Jodi told him the word for banana. “Ever hear it?”

“Might be Pennsylvania Dutch.” Scott paused a second. “How’s her hair cut?”

“Looks like it’s never been trimmed.”

“Parted down the middle … with a bun in back?”

“No bun, but definitely parted in the middle.”

Scott paused, clicking his tongue like he did when he was deep in thought. Then he said, “Tell you what. Put her in the car and drive over to Hickory Hollow—use your GPS—it’s not too far away. Turn right at the first road after Cattail Road and Hickory Lane, and go a mile or so. There’ll be a one-room schoolhouse on the left. The next farmhouse on that side of the road belongs to Bishop John Beiler. He’ll know what to do.”

“So forget about contacting the authorities?”

“Well, you just
did.
An off-duty policeman.”

She imagined his grin. “On vacation, no less.”

“I’m glad to help.”

“I did check for reports of a missing child,” she further explained. “Nothing showed up.”

“Right. It may seem strange, but if she
is
Amish … the People prefer to keep the English authorities out of their hair as much as possible.”

“The People?”

“The Plain community there.”

She considered this. “Why?”

“They’re cloistered by choice, separated from the world—that’s us, we who aren’t Amish. They call us Englishers. And they definitely prefer to handle things themselves.”

“Even in locating a lost child?”

“There are probably a bunch of farmers out searching for her as we speak.”

Jodi shivered at the thought.

Scott paused, then added: “Try saying this to her:
Kannscht du Deitsch schwetze?
and see how she reacts.”

“Um, something about Dutch?”

“Yep. Can you speak Deitsch? It’s the mother tongue of the Amish.”

“Terrific, I’ll repeat it to her when I hang up.”

“Just get to Hickory Hollow as quickly as possible.”

“Okay, I’m on it.”

“Update me later.”

“Will do.”

They said good-bye and hung up.

Jodi leaned down to reach for the child’s dimpled hand.

Too much drama for one day,
she thought, realizing how fond she’d become of the little darling.
The way she says Mamma just sounds so sweet.

She attempted to say the phrase Scott had mentioned. “Kannscht du Deitsch schwetze?”

The little girl leaped up, clapping her hands and jabbering in her language.

“That’s all I know,” Jodi said, laughing as she received the child’s hug. “Let’s find you something to wear besides this towel.”

Jodi led the child into the laundry room, where she opened the dryer and removed the warm underwear and handed them to the child so she could dress herself, smiling at her astonished look. It was at that moment she remembered the bag of donated clothing.

“Let’s take a look,” Jodi said, opening the sack.

Pulling out several dresses, she could see they were much too big. But there was a small skirt with blue and green polka dots, and a green short-sleeved top that matched. “Well, look at this,” she said, holding it up. “What do you think?”

The girl frowned, clutching the towel closer and shaking her head. “Nee.”

“Aw, but honey, you need something to wear.” She paused. “And this is super cute,” she said as she looked through the rest of the clothes. Nothing else was even remotely the right size.

Trent would call this providential.
She closed the bag.

When she looked up, the little girl had left the room. Jodi found her in the bathroom, leaning over the empty bathtub and reaching for the bright pink sponge.

“Listen, honey, you can’t just wear your undershirt and—”

“
Sehne?
” The child patted her tummy.

Jodi had her work cut out for her. “Let’s just try on the skirt and top, okay?” Even though she knew the girl had no clue what she was saying, she attempted to persuade her with a gentle and hopefully encouraging tone. She held out her hand and led her into the guest bedroom, then stood her in front of the floor mirror. She put the skirt up next to her waist and dangled the green top above, making eye contact with the youngster in the mirror. “See how pretty you look? Very pretty.”

Without waiting, Jodi slipped the green top over the girl’s head. And, wonder of wonders, there was no further resistance.
So far, so good.
Jodi held the skirt open and the child stepped into it, although her eyes were wide, as if she’d never worn anything like it. She even let Jodi button the waistband.

“Okay, we’re set.” Jodi offered her hand again.

Then, thinking perhaps she should slip a skirt over her running shorts, Jodi hurried to the closet and did just that. She also grabbed two pillows, hoping to make her passenger comfortable in a seat belt. “Now, let’s go find your mom.”

“Jah … mei Mamma!”

Jodi smiled as she looked down at her. She hoped the Hickory Hollow bishop could help them find the girl’s family.
Scott’s so sure about this,
she thought, anxious that all go well. She was surprised by how very much she cared for the small child who now clung to her hand.