A Promise for Miriam (12 page)

“What in the world—”

“That couldn’t be
dat
or Simon,” Miriam said, following her mother through the sitting room to the front door. Even before they had answered his knock, she saw Gabe pacing back and forth in front of the window and his horse winded and tied to their front rail.

Her heart beat faster because she realized two things in the second before her mother opened the door—Grace wasn’t with him and something was terribly wrong.

“Gabe, come inside,” Abigail said as she reached for his arm and pulled him through the open door. “Tell us what it is. Where’s Grace?”

“That’s why I’m here. I tried to find her. I can’t. I looked everywhere. I just—it’s growing darker and colder, and I don’t know where else to look.” Icicles had formed in his beard, and his eyes darted back and forth between them and then around the room, settling on nothing. He reached for the doorknob. “I have to go back. I can’t stay. I only came to ask—”

His hand began to shake on the door. The tremor traveled up his arm to his shoulders until the sob overtook him.

“I’ll run for
dat
,” Miriam whispered. She didn’t wait for an answer but turned and fled across the room and out the door toward the barn.

The last thing she saw was Gabe, a man she had come to think of as distant, big, and strong—but now he was broken.

A short time later they were all in the kitchen. Abigail had managed to press a hot cup of
kaffi
into Gabe’s hands.

“We have to go.” Gabe’s voiced teetered on the brink of panic. “She’s out there freezing. She’s eight years old and out there freezing, and I’m here drinking
kaffi
!”

He pushed the cup away.

“We’ve rung the bell,” Joshua reminded him. “Wait ten more minutes. Then this room will be full of help, and together we’ll accomplish more than you can alone.”

Gabe nodded once and raised his eyes to Miriam’s, but he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. The storm outside said it all. Her heart ached to witness the agony written all over his face. She might not agree with his ways, but there was no doubt his daughter meant everything to him.

And to think of Grace—scared, cold, and alone.

She closed her eyes and prayed as they waited.

The murmured conversations were interrupted by the arrival of not one but many buggies. Abigail stood and began pouring hot
kaffi
into Thermoses. Within five minutes the kitchen was crowded with men from their district. Miriam didn’t know how they had managed to arrive so quickly through the storm.

But she understood how their system worked.

When her brother Simon had rung the bell outside their barn, its call had carried to at least four other farms. They in turn had sent out a similar cry for help, which had reached still more farms. No one stopped to ask questions. The call was enough.

One call sent out a ripple through their people.

One call and all would come.

Folks parted as Bishop Beiler made his way to the center of the room and placed his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. Miriam’s mind flashed back to six days before when Gabe and Jacob had stood at the front of their Sunday meeting, when Gabe had joined the church and Grace had stood beside her father to be prayed over. It had been here, in their home, but no one could have known then that the girl’s life would be at stake a few days later.

“I didn’t know it was Grace, but I knew someone must be missing for the call to have gone out. I spoke with the
Englisch
,” Jacob said. “They are sending people out to help, but because of the storm the roads are impassable. The road crews have been sent to clear a path, but it will be a few hours before the
Englisch
officers arrive at your farm.”

“In the meantime we go to your place to start searching on our own.” Joshua stepped forward and set his
kaffi
cup on the table. “It’s not hopeless, son. Every man here knows these winters, has experienced these storms, and has a
dochder
or
schweschder
at home. We’ll find your Grace.”

Gabe nodded and Miriam thought he wouldn’t speak, but then he stood and cleared his throat. “
Danki
. I appreciate what you’re doing. I…I need to remind you that my Grace…she can’t…that is… she won’t talk.”

He looked from man to man and then continued. “She’s not slow minded. She’s lost. If she sees you, she’ll make a signal so you can see her, but I don’t think she would cry out. I don’t think she would speak. I thought I should let you know.”

Each man confirmed their understanding with a gesture, nod, or word of encouragement as they filed out into the gathering darkness and into the snow, which hadn’t slowed in its assault.

Gabe was walking out with Miriam’s oldest brother, Noah, when she thought of Pepper. She hurried to catch up with them before they were out the door and reached forward to snag Gabe’s sleeve.

He glanced back at her in surprise.

A few other women had come with the men. They were moving supplies into boxes, and boxes into buggies.

“Simon is coordinating supplies,” Noah said, pushing out through the front door, but Miriam pulled him back.

“It’s not that. It’s Pepper. I think he can help.”

Gabe shifted from foot to foot, his eyes on his horse. Someone had given the gelding a few oats in the barn and then brought him back around. Miriam knew she would need to explain quickly if she had any hope of Gabe and Noah hearing her out.

“He’s a good hunting dog. He’s familiar with Grace. At least give him a chance. What can it hurt?”

“We’re not hunting, Miriam.” Gabe’s voice was more tired than angry.

“He’s a German shorthair, he operates off scent, and he’s spent time with your daughter. What harm is there in allowing him to help?”

“You may have a point, but we can’t wait for you to get him ready. Bring him with Simon and the supplies.” Noah pulled on his gloves and walked out of the house.

As Miriam was about to turn away, Gabe stopped her. “Here. Take this.” Cupping her hand in his, he reached into the pocket of his coat, and pulled out something small, knitted, and blue. Slipping Grace’s mitten into her hand, he closed her fingers around it.

He paused long enough to look deeply into her eyes, to share with her what he’d been careful to keep hidden since she’d known him—the pain, the loss, and the loneliness.

Then he disappeared into the storm.

Chapter 14

G
race kicked the snow out from under the branches of the tree. She needed to go to the bathroom, but it was almost completely dark. She kept her hand on her pocket, on top of the buttoned flap, on top of the place where Stanley was safely sleeping. At first she had been a little angry at him. It was his fault they were here to begin with. At least that’s what she told herself, but she knew it wasn’t true.

She should have left him in the box. She should never have taken him outside. And once outside, she should have zipped up her pocket.

It was a miracle she’d even caught him.

But now what? Once she’d chased him through the snow, past the buildings and into the woods, once she’d caught him and realized she was lost, she had found shelter under the circle of trees. Her grandpa had taught her to do that. “If you’re ever lost, don’t keep running around in circles. Sit still and wait for us to come find you.”

She’d been younger then, really only a baby—barely six. But she remembered
pappi
Mose making her promise. What she didn’t remember was ever being this cold, and she’d never been lost before. She peeked out from under the tree branches again.

How would her dad see her scarf wrapped around the tree’s branch? She could barely see it. And the snow was piling up higher and higher. When she became thirsty, she tried putting some of the snow in her mouth. It worked a little at first, but now she needed to use the bathroom awfully bad and she was hungry as well as cold.

All of those things kept her from thinking about how scared she was. She’d never been afraid of the dark before, but then she’d never been outside alone in the middle of a blizzard. Crawling back under the tree branches, she sat down with her legs crossed. Unbuttoning her coat pocket enough to slip her hand in, she ran her fingers over Stanley.

She needed to be brave—for Stanley.

And for her father.

The last thing she wanted was to be crying when he found her.

So instead, she lay down, and pulled her knees up to her chin. Maybe if she went to sleep for a few minutes, when she woke up she’d be warmer.

Chapter 15

G
abe couldn’t believe the amount of buggies lined around his barn and pasture fence. He might not be able to see the fence through the blizzard, but there was no mistaking the buggies. As each man arrived, Miriam’s youngest brother, Simon, took charge of stabling the horse after directing the man to Gabe.

He didn’t want to think about where Simon was putting the horses, because the barn certainly wouldn’t hold them all.

Joshua had insisted that Gabe stay at the house and coordinate the efforts. Gabe had argued with Miriam’s father about that, and it wasn’t in his nature to contradict his elders. It went against his nature to sit still. He wanted to be out walking the fields, looking for his daughter.

“I understand, Gabe. I do, but that’s the reason you need to be here. No one knows this spread like you do. If there are any questions, you’re the one who can answer them. And when we find Grace, you need to be here to greet her.” That last reason had stolen any other argument he might have offered.

So he’d taken Grace’s drawing pad, made a rough sketch of the place, and begun marking off sections as teams went out into the storm.

His kitchen hardly resembled anything he recognized, there were so many women about. Actually, it was only Miriam and two others, but with all the activity the place seemed as busy as a hive.

When he was sure there couldn’t be anyone else coming, another buggy would arrive outside the window. A man would hop out and hand the reins to Simon, who would be standing there almost before the horse had stopped. Miriam or one of her friends would be at the back door as the man knocked the snow off his shoes, and then someone Gabe didn’t know, someone he couldn’t even remember from Sunday, would be assuring him that everything would be all right, that they would find his Grace, and that he was ready to go search.

Gabe would consult his sketch and assign an area of the farm, and before he could thank the stranger—no, before he could thank the
neighbor
—Miriam would have filled his Thermos with hot
kaffi
and sent him on his way.

And though he couldn’t abide the thought of eating, though he’d had nothing since the cheese biscuit nearly twelve hours before, he was grateful something delicious was baking in his oven. The men working deserved to be fed.

Noah appeared in the doorway between the mudroom and the kitchen, but he didn’t walk into the room. Beside him was Pepper, who barked once, and another man whom Gabe couldn’t place. In fact, he was sure he’d never seen him before.

In his twenties, clean shaven, and with a pleasant smile, Gabe noticed that he made eye contact with Miriam before reaching down and settling the dog with a single hand gesture.

“We’re ready to go out with him,” Noah said. “Gabe, this is Aden Schmucker. He lives a couple of districts over. His parents own the farm next to mine, and he happened to be there visiting this weekend.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“
Ya
. Of course.”

Miriam stepped forward. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a slight blush to her cheeks, but it could have been the heat from working in the kitchen. “Aden’s one of the best hunters in these parts. He helped to train Pepper when we first bought him.”

“He’s a
gut
dog,” Aden said. “It was a
gut
idea to use him to look for your little girl.”

Gabe nodded but didn’t add anything. There were dynamics at work here he didn’t understand, and truthfully he didn’t care. All he cared about was finding Grace.

“Do you have something he can get her scent off of?” Aden asked.

Gabe glanced toward Miriam. She pulled Grace’s mitten out of the pocket of her apron.

“Has your daughter worn this recently?” Aden asked.

“
Ya
,” Gabe said. “She has. I found it on the floor in the mudroom. I think she dropped it as she went out.”

Aden squatted down beside the dog and spoke to him softly. Gabe couldn’t make out exactly what he said, but after a moment Aden placed the mitten in front of Pepper and spoke two short commands.

Pepper began to walk around the mudroom, his nose to the ground. When he reached the back door, he barked once.

“All right. Let’s go.” Aden pulled on his gloves and Noah wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck.

Opening the door, they both stepped out into the night, the wind pulling away any words they might have shared.