Leah's Choice. Emma Miller

“Lost him where?” Leah asked. She couldn’t imagine a six-year-old out in this weather. It didn’t make sense. Maybe he was hiding somewhere in the rambling Beachy farmhouse or in the barn or outbuildings. With fourteen children under the age of sixteen, it was easy for Lydia to lose track of one little boy. That didn’t mean that Joey was really lost.

       Herman Beachy, Abraham’s brother, hurried up to him. “What do you mean you lost him?” Herman demanded. Their sister, Verna, covered her face with her hands and sank back into her chair.

       “How did you find out about the missing boy, Daniel?” A Mennonite girl only a little younger than Leah joined them. “Daniel’s my cousin,” she whispered to Leah. “I’m Caroline Steiner. I think you know some of my Steiner cousins in Ohio. From Hope Mennonite Church?”

       “Sophie and Jeanine.” Leah nodded.

       “Hey, Caroline.” Daniel offered a worried smile. “It’s good to see you. Abraham’s father flagged me down at the end of his lane,” he explained. “He knew that some of the young people from their church were here with their group leaders and asked if I could bring Abraham to ask for help looking for the boy.”

       “You can count on us,” Charley said.

       He and Miriam went back to their group and began to organize them. Leah knew that some of the children were too young to join in. The girls’ parents, especially, would want them safely delivered home. Luckily, they’d come in four buggies. Rebecca could be trusted to drive Susanna and some of the others home; Miriam could manage the rest.

       As for Leah, she had no intention of going home. She’d always had a particular fondness for freckle-faced Joey. She would offer to take Verna, Abraham and Herman back to the Beachy farm, and once she was there, no one would object to her joining the search.

       As the Amish moved toward the doors, the newcomer strode past Leah and called out to the Mennonites. “Michael? Gilbert? Who’ll come with me to find the boy?”

       “I’d be glad to,” a stout man answered. “I’ve got a flashlight in the truck, but there are a lot of woods and fields around here, and I’m not familiar with the area.”

       “So we’ll form groups,” Daniel said, checking his pockets. “Someone can ride with me, if they like…soon as I find my keys.” He looked up, extracting keys from a jacket pocket. “We’ll make certain that there’s someone in each group who does know their way.” There was a chorus of agreement as men and women raised their hands and offered to help.

       Leah knotted her bonnet strings and waved at Caroline just before dashing out into the rain. It made her feel good that Caroline’s cousin had urged the others to join in the search.

       She couldn’t help but think how attractive the new Daniel was. He had a serious but handsome face, and nice hands that were never still when he was talking, even after he’d found his keys. As he’d walked past her in the aisle, Leah had noticed that his eyes were clear green—he had beautiful eyes. She couldn’t remember ever meeting anyone with eyes that green before.

       After telling the children to wait for her at the door, Leah made a run for the buggy. With so many more volunteers, she was certain they’d find Joey quickly. As Mam often said, most people had good hearts and were willing to do the right thing, if someone would just point them in the right direction.

      * * *

       Minutes later, Leah guided her horse up the muddy lane to the Beachy farmhouse. Buggies, SUVs and pickup trucks already filled the yard. Amish neighbors always came to help out in any emergency, but the Mennonites and Englishers were more than welcome. Norman, Joey’s father, stood in the pouring rain, shaking hands with friends and strangers alike and thanking everyone for coming, but it was Samuel Mast, their church deacon, who appeared to be in charge.

       One of the kids took Leah’s horse and promised to find the mare a dry stall in the barn. A red-eyed Lydia came to the back door and called for Leah to join the women in the kitchen. Leah hesitated, then went in, but kept her green rain slicker on. It wasn’t Amish clothing, but Mam had bought everyone in the family one at an Englisher store years ago.

       “I’m going right back out,” Leah explained to the worried Lydia. “To help with the search.”

       As usual, Lydia’s kitchen was complete chaos, with toddlers dashing about, a cat carrying kittens to a basket in the corner of the room, and Jesse, Joey’s twin brother, climbing up on the counter to get something out of the cupboard.

       Leah was surprised to see her Aunt Martha standing at the counter making coffee. Aunt Martha and Lydia didn’t usually visit each other’s homes, and Leah wondered how her aunt had heard the news about Joey and gotten here so fast, but then Leah’s mother, Hannah, came from the hallway with Lydia’s newest baby in her arms.

       Samuel must have gone for Mam, Leah thought, leaving her sister Anna, his wife, home with their children. Samuel would have guessed that Lydia needed Hannah, Leah’s mother. And somehow, Aunt Martha had included herself in the emergency.

       “You’re certain you want to go out with the men?” Aunt Martha asked. She had the misfortune to be born with a nasally voice that always came out sounding as if she was peeved at someone.

       Leah nodded. “I am.”

       “I told you she would.” Hannah handed the fussing baby to Lydia.

       Aunt Martha wiped her hands on her apron, poured a cup of steaming coffee and pressed it into Leah’s hands. “Drink this,” she ordered. “If you’re determined to go out in this rain and catch your death, you’ll need it.”

       “Thanks, Aunt Martha, but I couldn’t drink a drop.”

       Her aunt frowned, and Leah knew she’d offended her again when she voiced a thank you. Most Amish considered please and thank you to be fancy words. Showing off. The service to one another and the thanks were assumed, and such words weren’t bandied about, but that was another habit she’d picked up from her more worldly friends back in Ohio.

       “I need to go.” Leah gave the coffee to her mother. “The search parties are getting organized.”

       “I wouldn’t stand for my Dorcas to be out in the dark with strangers. Not my daughter,” Aunt Martha fussed. “That’s a man’s place, not a woman’s, and certainly not a girl’s.” She threw a meaningful look at Mam. “This is what comes of her running wild out in Ohio, going to fairs with her Mennonite friends, eating ice cream at all hours and taking herself to every frolic in the county.”

       “Not every frolic, Aunt Martha,” Leah defended. “Rebecca and I spent most of the time taking care of Grossmama.”

       Aunt Martha scowled. “Not what I hear.”

       “All these years and all these blessed children, and I’ve lost nary a one before,” Lydia fretted to no one in particular, rocking the baby. “Where can my Joey be?”

       “I’m here, Mam,” Jesse piped up.

       “You hush,” Lydia corrected. “And get down off that counter before I dust your bottom.”

       Jesse ignored her and kept digging in the cabinet. Aunt Martha scooped him up, deposited him on the floor and said. “You heard your mother. Shoo!”

       Jesse shooed.

       “Joey’s just turned six and he’s scared of the dark.” Lydia glanced at the dark windows. “Where can he have got to?”

       “We’ll find him,” Leah promised.

       “Be glad you’ve got other children,” Aunt Martha intoned as she cut herself a slice of chocolate cake. “Reuben and I were never so blessed.”

       Leah wished her aunt had stayed at home. Lydia didn’t need to hear that. She was worried enough. “Have the kids searched the barns and the house?” Leah asked.

       Lydia nodded. “Root cellar to attic. I’ve