An Amish Christmas

He settled himself into the chair she indicated and looked at the boy beside him. “You must be Noah.”

Karen glanced over her shoulder to see Noah fairly bursting with curiosity.

“Ja, I am Noah. Is it true you can’t remember your name? Not even where you came from? Do you remember that you’re English or did someone tell you? How did you know how to talk? If you need to know how to use a knife and fork I can show you.”

Karen caught John’s eye and said, “I warned you.”

While John patiently answered Noah’s rapid-fire questions, Karen pulled her biscuits from the oven. Dumping them into a woven basket, she set it on the table in front of everyone.

Just then the front door opened. Her father and Jacob came in. After washing up, they took their places at the table. Karen sat down opposite John. Everyone folded their hands. Silently her father gave a blessing over the meal. He signaled he had finished by clearing his throat, then giving a brief nod to Karen. She began passing food down the table.

Eli said, “Guder mariye, Mr. Doe.”

“Good morning, sir.” John took a biscuit and watched with a bemused expression as the children dived into their food. By the time the plate of scrambled eggs reached him only a tablespoon’s worth remained.

Eli spoke to Karen. “William Yoder wants me to look at one of his draft horses this afternoon. His gelding has a split hoof. He wants my opinion on which treatment to try.”

She asked, “Do you need me to drive you?”

Jacob perked up with interest. “Can I go with you, Papa?”

Karen’s spoke quickly, “You have school today.” Jacob was growing up fast, but she wasn’t ready for him to take on their father’s tough and sometimes dangerous profession before it was necessary.

Sitting back in his chair, Jacob said, “I don’t see why I have to go to school now. Papa needs me at home to help him with the horses.”

“You will be out of school soon enough,” Karen said. “A few more months won’t do you any harm.”

Jacob made a sour face. “Ken Yoder has already left school. He is only two months older than me. I don’t need any more schooling. I want to work with you, Papa. I want to be a farrier.”

John said, “A farrier needs an education, too.”

Karen looked at him in surprise. It was becoming clear he did know a thing or two about horses.

“What do you know about it?” Jacob scowled at their guest.

“Jacob.” Eli’s firm tone rebuked his son.

Bowing his head, Jacob mumbled, “Forgive me.”

Spreading jam on a piping-hot biscuit, John said, “If the horse has a turned foot, a farrier needs a shoe to correct it for him. You would have to know how many degrees the foot was off true in order to make a shoe that brings it up to level. How thick does the shoe need to be to give such an angle? These things you learn in school.”

Anna shook her head. “We don’t learn horseshoeing in school. We learn how to read and write, how to speak English and how to do our sums.”

Eli smiled at her. “And did you finish your sums last night?”

Her bright face clouded over. “No, Papa.”

“And why not?” Karen asked, surprised to hear Anna had neglected her homework.

“Because I went to visit John Doe.”

John said, “I would have sent her back if I had known. She kept me company while I ate.”

Jacob glared at John and then spoke to Karen. “See. No goot can come of having him stay here.”

“Hush Jacob, this is not how we treat our guests,” Karen said.

Pushing back from the table, Jacob got up. “The Englischer will only bring trouble. You will see.”

He grabbed his coat and hat and headed outside, letting the door slam behind him. Eli rose, motioning to Karen to stay seated. “I will talk to the boy.”

Slipping his coat over his sling, he followed Jacob outside. Embarrassed by her brother’s display, Karen glanced at John.

He gave her a tight smile and said, “I’m sorry I upset him.”

“It’s not you.” She knew what troubled her brother and her heart ached for him.

Noah spoke around a mouthful of egg. “Jacob doesn’t like the English ever since the accident.”

Puzzled, John asked, “What accident?”

“The accident that killed our mother, brother and sisters,” Karen explained.

“That Englischer was drunk. He hit their buggy doing like seventy miles an hour,” Noah added dramatically.

Karen was thankful Noah had not been there that day. It had been she and Jacob who came upon the terrible carnage.

Karen reached across the table to grasp Noah and Anna’s hands. “We have forgiven him as God has asked us to do.”

Nodding solemnly, Noah agreed. “We have.”

Anna shook her head. “I don’t think Jacob has.”

Karen squeezed her hand. “We will pray Jacob finds forgiveness in his heart.”

John asked, “What happened to the driver?”

Letting go of her siblings, Karen folded her hands in her lap. “He had barely a scratch.”

Frowning slightly, John looked from the children to Karen. “How do you do that? How do you forgive someone who has done something so terrible?”

“It is our way,” Karen replied. Closing her eyes, she sought the peace that forgiveness always brought her.

When she opened her eyes, she found John’s gaze resting thoughtfully on her. Heat rose in her face. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she said, “Hurry up children, or you will be late to school.”

In the resulting rush, Karen masked her nervousness by handing out lunch boxes, scarves and mittens. By the time the children were out the door, she had a better grip on her emotions.

John, on the other hand, looked ill at ease. The frown lines that creased his forehead yesterday were back.

Karen began picking up plates. “Would you like more coffee or more eggs?”

“I don’t want to cause you extra work. Coffee is fine if you have it.” He remained seated, elbows resting on the table.

“It’s not extra work. Cooking is what I do all day long. Ask now or go hungry until lunch.”

“Okay, more eggs would be great.”

“Did you sleep well?” She pulled a bowl of fresh eggs from the refrigerator.

“Not bad.”

She glanced his way. Something in the tone of his voice made her suspect he hadn’t. “The bed was not to your liking?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It wasn’t that.”

“Then what was it?”

“Anna mentioned that Jacob thinks your family might get in trouble for having me here.”

Turning around, she folded her arms and stated as firmly as she could, “You were invited into this house. There is nothing wrong in that.”

“Are you sure? Because I got the feeling your father wasn’t happy to see me, either.”

“Papa has agreed that you may stay.”

It had taken some persuading, but Karen had been able to convince her father that having an outsider with them for a short period of time would not be harmful. She was sure her father didn’t suspect the depths of her interest in John Doe. If he did he would never allow him to stay.

To change the subject, she asked, “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Is that a thing you remember?”

“I don’t know. It’s just the first thing that came to mind.”

Using a fork, she whipped the eggs quickly and added them to the skillet. “What is it that you would like to do today?”

“I need to discover why I was in this area.”

Wrapping the corner of her apron around the coffeepot handle, she carried it to the table. “If the sheriff could not discover the reason, what makes you think you can?”

He waited until she had finished filling his cup. After taking a sip, he said, “I don’t know if I can do better or not, but I have the most at stake. I have to try.”

Karen returned the coffeepot to the stove and stirred the eggs. “It seems a simple thing. If you were on this road, then you must have been on your way to, or coming from, one of the farms along this road.”

“It’s a simple thing if I was on this road in the first place because I wanted to be.”

She glanced at him and frowned. “What you mean?”

“The sheriff is going on the assumption that I was robbed and my car was stolen along with my wallet and any personal effects. I could’ve been dumped here by someone who was attempting to hide my body.”

She shook her head. “There are much better places to hide a body than on our farm lane.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

She dished the eggs onto a plate. After carrying it to the table, she got a second mug, filled it with coffee and sat down across from him. “Will you then visit every farm along this road?”

“That is the only plan I can come up with. What do you think?”

“It makes sense, but it may not be easy.” She hesitated not knowing exactly how to phrase her words.

“What do you mean?”

“There are over forty farms along Pleasant View road. Most belong to Amish farmers.”

“And?”

“They may not be comfortable talking to an outsider.”

Picking up a spoon, he stirred his coffee slowly. After a moment he looked directly into her eyes. “Will you help me?”

She glanced out the window toward the barn. Papa would not like her getting involved. It troubled her that she was considering helping this man against her father’s wishes. But she was.

John must have sensed her reluctance. He said, “If you aren’t comfortable with helping me, I understand. You don’t know anything about me.”

Tipping her head in his direction, she arched one eyebrow. “You don’t know much about you, either.”

That brought a ghost of a smile to his face. “True.”

Crossing her arms on the table she stared at him. “I know that you like scrambled eggs and that you don’t want to cause me trouble. I will do what I can to help you, but I am afraid it may not be much.”

Rising to her feet, Karen said, “Finish your breakfast. I have much work I must do today, but tomorrow I will drive you to some of our neighbors’ farms.”

“Are you sure we can’t get started today?”

She scowled at him. “Who will bake my bread? Who will mend the clothes my brothers must wear? Who will cook lunch for my father and our evening meal? These things I must do and many more. Tomorrow, I will make time for you. Besides, you need a day of rest. I see it in your eyes.”

He looked ready to protest, but finally nodded. “You’re right. One more day won’t make a difference. You rented me a house, you didn’t sign on to be my driver.”

“Goot, and you will rest, ja?”

“I’ll try. Does Hope Springs have a public library?”

“Yes. It is across from the English school on Maple Street. Why?”

“I need internet access. There is a national website for missing persons called NamUs. If anyone in the country reports a man of my description missing, the information will be posted there. I know Sheriff Bradley is doing all he can, but he doesn’t have much manpower to devote to my case. I must help myself.”

“Tomorrow, we can go there first thing.”

“No, I’d like to start questioning people first.”

“As you wish. Now you must finish your breakfast and get out from under my foot so I may wash the kitchen floor.”

He quickly finished his plate, swigged the rest of his coffee and carried everything to the sink. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Ja. Would you go to the barn and check on Dat?”

“Your dad?”

She nodded. “I’m worried about him. He is trying to do too much too soon. He broke his arm five weeks ago when a neighbor’s horse kicked him. He wants to get back to work, but the doctor says no. The broken bone damaged a nerve and he has lost feeling in his hand.”

“I’ll be happy to check on him.”

“Danki.”

He eyed her intently. “And that means?”

“It means, thank you.”

“How do you say, you’re welcome?”

“Du bischt wilkumm.”

He repeated the phrase and she was surprised by his almost perfect pronunciation. “Goot. Now, out, or you will find yourself with a mop in hand.”

She was smiling as he walked out, but her grin faded quickly. She had chosen to remain with her family and care for her younger brothers and sisters after their mother was killed. She had given up her chance to marry and have a family of her own because she had been needed here.

At twenty-five, she was considered an old maid by many in the community. She considered herself too old and too wise for a youthful infatuation, but that was exactly the way she felt around John.

He was handsome in his English way, but he was not Plain. So why did a smile on his face make her heart beat faster? It was wrong to think of him in such a way. To forget that would be to bring heartache to all her family. They had suffered enough already. She would not bring them more pain.

CHAPTER FIVE

Stepping off the front porch, John looked up. The morning sky hung low, gray and overcast. The wind carried a hint of rain as it scattered fallen leaves across the ground in front of his feet. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Karen working in the kitchen through the windows. Once again he was struck by how gracefully she moved.

She wore a dark purple dress today with a black apron over it. The color accentuated her willowy frame. The ribbons of her white cap drew his attention to her slender neck, the curve of her jaw and her delicate ears.

He turned away from the sight, recognizing his interest for what it was. The attraction of a man to a lovely woman. He had no business thinking about any woman in a romantic light. Not until he’d solved the riddle of his past.

Heading toward the barn, he studied the looming structure. It was a huge, solid building, obviously well cared for. Pulling open one of the doors he entered into the dim interior. Instantly, the smells of animals assailed him along with the odors of hay, old wood and feed. He knew these smells the way he knew he was right-handed.

Off to the left was an area that served as Eli’s blacksmith shop. Brooms and assorted tools hung from horseshoes attached to the bare wooden walls and overhead beams. Two steel frames suspended from the ceiling had been rigged so they could be released to swing down on either side of a fitful horse during a shoeing. An anvil sat secured to a worn workbench. Beside it was a water barrel and racks of horseshoes of different sizes. A rolling cart in the corner contained all the tools a farrier needed in their proper places.

Walking over to the shoes, John picked one up. It was too heavy. He hefted another. They should be lighter. He didn’t know why, but he knew they should be.

The sound of a loud whinny greeted him. He replaced the shoes and moved toward the source. In the filtered daylight he made out a half dozen equine heads hanging over their stall doors to check out this newcomer.

He stopped at the first stall. Molly nuzzled at his shirt pocket. He scratched her head. “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed to bring a treat. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

“Do you like horses, Mr. Doe?”

John turned to see Mr. Imhoff approaching from the back of the barn. In his free hand he held a pitchfork.

“It appears that I do,” John answered.

“Is it true what my daughter says? That you have no memory of your life before you were found on our lane?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“I have heard of such a thing. My father’s oldest brother was kicked in the head by a horse. It was a full day before he recovered his senses.”

“I have recovered my senses, just not any personal memories.”

“That is a strange burden for God to give a man, but He has His reasons even if we cannot understand them.” Hiding his bitterness at God, John turned back to Molly. “Your mare has nice confirmation. Do you plan to breed her?”

“I’ve already had two nice colts from her.” Eli began walking toward the back of the barn. John followed him to a small paddock where a black horse was trotting back and forth.

John leaned his elbows on the top rail and watched the animal with pleasure. “Hey, pretty boy. You look like you’ve got some get up and go,” he murmured softly.

A blinding pain made him wince. He saw another black horse, rail-thin with its hip bones sticking out. The animal was covered in sores and flies. Death hovered over him.

Sucking in a quick breath, John opened his eyes. The vision was gone.

Eli didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. He said, “This one’s name is One-Way, and he should look fast. His sire, Willows Way, won the Hamiltonian at the Meadowlands ten years ago.”

John rubbed the ache from his temple. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“It means his sire was a racehorse, a trotter and a goot one.”

John looked at the Amish farmer in his dark coat, long gray beard and worn black hat. “You are raising racehorses?”

Eli smiled. “Mostly I raise and train carriage horses. I bought my first Standardbred when I was a teenager. I was looking for a fast horse to impress my girlfriend.”

“How did that work out?”

“The courtship did not, but the horse did. I got interested in the breed, began to study trade magazines and it wasn’t long before I was breeding them myself. Back then I couldn’t afford the stud fees of high-profile stallions. I got very goot at losing money at what my wife called my foolishness.”

“Isn’t horse racing and betting against your religion?”

“Ja, it is a worldly thing and thus forbidden to us.” “Okay, then I’m confused.”

Eli’s grin widened. “There is nothing wrong in breeding a fine horse. They are God’s creatures, after all. If you can sell that horse for an honest price, there is nothing wrong with that, either. This one’s brother is doing well on the racing circuit this year.”

John smiled as understanding dawned. “I see. If the fine horse should win a race or two for some new owner, then the next foal from your mare will be worth even more money.”

“Ja. It is all in the hands of God. I try to remember to keep Him first in my life for He rewards His faithful servants.”

“When will you sell this fellow?”

“After the first of the year I will take him to the Winter Speed sale in Delaware, Ohio.”

The place meant nothing to John.

Eli said, “My daughter has taken a keen interest in you.”

John was surprised by the abrupt change of topic. “Your daughter has been very kind.”

“She has a goot heart. It was the same with her mother.” Eli’s voice became wistful.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Karen told me what happened.”

Eli turned to John. In a low steely voice, he said, “I would not want to see my daughter’s kindness repaid with sorrow. Be careful of that, John Doe.”

Taken aback, John stared at Eli. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for the woman who’d shown him so much kindness. He nodded solemnly. “I will, sir. I promise.”

* * *

Late the following morning, Karen stopped the buggy where the lane met the highway and gave a sidelong glance at John seated beside her. He turned the collar of his coat up against the cold drizzle, but his excitement at finally getting to do something shimmered in his eyes.

“Which way would you like to go?” she asked.

“Which direction is the nearest interstate?”

She pointed north. “If you go through town and then take Yoder Road north about twenty-five miles you will reach the interstate.”

“Let’s go toward Hope Springs then and stop at the farms between here and the town. If I’m not from the area I most likely came in on a major highway.”

Slapping the reins against Molly’s rump, Karen sent the mare trotting down the blacktop. “I have one stop I need to make at the Sutters’ farm. Are you certain you are not from this area?”

“No. Except that no one has reported me missing from around here. And no one has recognized me from the TV piece the local news ran on me. Do you mind if I try my hand at driving?” he asked.

Surprised by his request, she said, “Nee, I do not mind. Do you know how to drive a horse?”

“I think I can. I’ve been watching you do it.” Taking the reins, he sat up straight and guided Molly down the highway.

After watching for a few minutes, Karen said, “That is goot. I think you’ve done this before.”

John smiled at her. “I think you’re right.”

“Perhaps you are ex-Amish.”

The moment the words left her mouth her heart sank like a stone. If John had taken the vows of their faith and then left the community, all would shun him. She would have to shun him.

He didn’t seem to notice her concern. “The sheriff did discuss that possibility.”

Dismissing the idea as unacceptable, she said, “You don’t speak or understand our language. Surely you could not forget the tongue you grew up with.”

He shrugged. “Who would think I could forget my own name? As far as I’m concerned anything is possible.”

Racking her mind for local families with members who’d strayed, she quickly came up with several. In their tight-knit community, she was sure she knew all the young men who’d left. The only one close to John’s age would have been Isaac Troyer’s son who left almost ten years ago. He looked nothing like John. The others she could think of who had left the community were much younger men and a few young women.

There were at least three families who had moved into the area recently. If they had members leave the faith before coming to this church district she didn’t know about them.

In less than a quarter of a mile, they reached the lane of another farm. John turned the horse onto the narrow road. Karen said, “When we get to the bishop’s house, you should stay in the buggy.”

“Why?”

“So that I may speak privately to Bishop Zook and ask if he can assist you.”

“And if he says no?” John’s tone carried a hint of annoyance.

“Bishop Zook is a wise and much-respected man. If you have his permission to speak to the members of our church it will open many doors that might otherwise be closed to you.”

John relented. “All right. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Goot.” She nodded her satisfaction.

Driving the buggy up to the front of the house, he drew the mare to a stop. Before Karen could step out, Joseph Zook walked out of the house toward her.

“Guder mariye, Karen,” he called cheerfully. “What brings you here today?”

“Good morning, Bishop. I have brought someone to meet you. This is John Doe, the man who was found unconscious beside our lane.”

Concern furrowed the minister’s brow. “I have heard the story. I am glad to see that you are recovered, Mr. Doe.”

“I’m not quite recovered, sir.” John touched the bandage on the side of his head. “I have no memory of my past. I’m hoping that you can help me.”

“I am sorry for your injury, but how can I help?”

“Do you recognize me? Have you ever seen me before?”

The bishop studied him intently then said, “Nee, I have not.”

Karen could feel John’s disappointment in the slump of his body beside her. She addressed the bishop. “John wishes to speak to members of our church to see if anyone knows him or knows something about him.”

The bishop studied Karen intently. He switched to Pennsylvania Dutch. “You must be careful, Karen. To become involved in this outsider business is not a good thing.”

She bowed her head slightly. “How can helping an injured man be a bad thing? I feel that this is what God wants me to do.”

“Be sure it is God’s will you are seeking, Karen, and not your own.”

“I will heed your advice, Bishop.”

The bishop turned his attention back to John and spoke in English. “You may speak to members of our church if they wish it also. I will pray that you find the answers you seek, young man.”