An Amish Christmas. Patricia Davids

memory.”

      “It is a start. We must give thanks to God.”

      His elation slipped a notch. Wasn’t God the one who’d put him in this situation? If he were to give thanks it would have to be for remembering something important—like his name.

      She said, “At least you know one more thing about yourself.”

      He could cook fish, he had no criminal record and he didn’t crave drugs. Yeah, he was off to a roaring good start in his quest to collect personal information. Maybe tomorrow he’d find he knew how to sharpen a pencil.

      Depression lowered its dark blanket over him. “Thanks for the supper.”

      “You are most welcome. I will expect you at our breakfast table in the morning,” she stated firmly. The look in her eyes told him she was used to being the boss.

      Her family would be there, people who would stare at him with pity or worse. Was he ready for that?

      Not waiting for his answer, she said, “I will send Jacob to get you if you don’t appear. No, I will send Noah. His endless questions will make you wish you had stayed in Hope Springs. The only way to silence him is to feed him. Guten nacht, John Doe.”

      “Good night, Karen.”

      The ribbons of her white bonnet fluttered over her shoulders as she spun around and headed out the door. It appeared he wouldn’t be allowed to hide here in the house if she had her way.

      That was okay. He wouldn’t mind seeing her face across the breakfast table or at any other time. Why wasn’t she married?

      He reined in the thought quickly. It was none of his business. She was an attractive woman with a vibrant personality, but he was in no position to think about flexing his social skills. What if he had a wife waiting for him somewhere?

      He stared at his left hand. No discernible pale band indicated he normally wore a wedding ring. It wasn’t proof positive, of course. Not every married man wore a wedding band. Did he feel married?

      How could he remember frying trout and not remember if he had a wife?

      The creaking of a floorboard in the other room caught his attention. Was there someone in the house with him? His mouth went dry as a new fear struck.

      Had someone come back to finish the job and make sure he was dead?

       CHAPTER FOUR

      Grabbing a knife from the drawer beside the sink, John walked slowly to the doorway of the sitting room and scoped it out. It was empty.

      Was he imagining things now? He started to turn away, but another sound stopped him. He focused on the sofa just as the face of a little girl peeked over the back. The moment she saw him watching she ducked down again.

      Relief made him light-headed. Karen had mentioned she had a sister. It seemed one Imhoff was too curious about him to wait until morning. He said, “I see you.”

      “No, you don’t,” came her reply.

      Feeling foolish, he laid the knife on the table, then he crossed the sitting room and bent over the sofa. Looking down, he saw her huddled into a little ball. “Okay, now I see you.”

      Wearing a dark blue dress with a white apron and a white bonnet identical to her older sister’s she looked like a miniature Karen. She nodded and grinned. “Ja, now you see me.”

      Scrambling to her feet, she sidestepped to the other end of the sofa. “You are my dead man. I saw you in the ditch. Everyone said I made it up, but I didn’t.”

      “I was in the ditch, but I wasn’t dead.”

      She moved around the room trailing her fingers along the furniture. “I know. God didn’t want you, either. We are just alike.”

      He had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m not sure we are.”

      “It’s true,” she insisted. “This house belonged to my grossmammi.”

      “I don’t know what that means.”

      She cocked her head sideways. “Really? It means grandmother. These are her things, but God wanted her in heaven, and she had to leave her things here.”

      John sat on the sofa. “Do you think your grandmother will mind that I’m using them?”

      She shook her head. “She liked it when people came to visit.”

      He said, “My name is John. What’s your name?”

      “Anna.”

      “It’s nice to meet you Anna. What did you mean when you said we are the same?”

      “God didn’t want me to go to heaven the day my mother died. Seth, Carol and Liz got to go to Heaven with Mama, but God didn’t want me. And he didn’t want you. Why do you think that is?”

      “I have no idea.”

      She came to stand in front of him. Tipping her head to one side, she said, “Papa says it is because God has something special for me to do here on earth. I don’t think it’s fair, do you?”

      John stared at his toes in hopes that an appropriate answer would appear. None did. He wasn’t up to discussing the meaning of life with this odd child. “I think maybe you should talk to your dad or Karen about it.”

      “Okay. Are you going to eat all that chicken?”

      “I was, but I’m willing to share.”

      Spinning around she bounced toward the kitchen and settled in one of the chairs. He followed her and took a seat at the head of the table. Uncovering the plate, he pushed it toward her. “I’ll let you choose the piece you want.”

      “I like the leg, but you are the guest.”

      “That makes it easy because I like the thigh.”

      He watched her bite into his supper. “Anna, can I ask you a few questions?”

      She considered his request for a moment then nodded. “Okay.”

      “What’s with the bonnets that you and your sister wear?”

      Reaching up to touch her head, she asked, “You mean our prayer kapp?”

      “Yeah, why do you wear them? I know you do because you are Amish, but why?”

      She looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you joshing me?”

      “No.”

      “It says in the Bible that I should cover my head when I pray. I should pray all the time so I wear this all the time. Sometimes I forget to pray, but Karen reminds me. Can I ask you a question?”

      “Sure.”

      “Why were you in our ditch?”

      “I don’t remember what I was doing there. I don’t remember anything that happened to me before you saw me. John Doe isn’t even my real name. It’s a name they gave me because I can’t remember my own.”

      Her mouth dropped open. “Now you are joshing me?”

      Shaking his head, he smiled and said, “I wish I were.”

      The outside door opened and a teenage boy entered. He frowned at Anna. “You should not be here.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Neither should you.”

      “She’s not causing any trouble,” John said in defense of his visitor.

      The boy ignored him. “Come now or I will tell Dat.”

      Anna finished her chicken and licked her fingers. “This is my brother, Jacob. He says having an Englischer stay here will get us all in