The Bishop's Daughter (16 page)

“I—I guess it didn’t really make sense, but it’s the truth, Jimmy. As odd as it might sound, I believed finding you was a twist of fate and that it was meant to be.”

Jimmy’s face felt like he’d been out in the sun too long. Could the person on the other end of the phone—the man he’d called Dad for the last twenty years—really be a baby snatcher? He shook his head.
No, it’s not possible. Dad has to be making this story up to discourage me from searching for my birth family
.

“The young Amish woman told me there were eight kids in the family and that her mother was dead,” Dad continued. “I figured I might have done them a favor by giving them one less mouth to feed.”

Jimmy set the phone down on the seat and leaned forward, resting his head on the steering wheel. A spot on the side of his head began to
throb as his thoughts ran wild. After several seconds, he sat up again and picked up the phone. “I’ve got to go now, Dad. I’ll call you later, once you’ve sobered up and are ready to tell me the truth.” He clicked off the phone before his dad could respond.

L
eona stepped into the kitchen the following morning and found her mamm cutting thick slices of ham. Mom looked at her and smiled. “Did your daed tell you he stopped by the Lapps’ place last night and had a little talk with Emanuel?”

“No, he never mentioned it.”

“He was awful tired last night. Maybe that’s why he forgot to say anything.”

“So how did it go?” Leona asked as she moved over to the cupboard and removed three plates.

“Guess it went well. Emanuel said the reason he didn’t want to go to school this fall was because he thought he should get a job and help support his mamm.”

Leona shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. The boy’s too young to be going to work yet, and besides, Abner’s taking care of his mamm and little bruder just fine with what he makes at the furniture shop in Strasburg.”

“That may be true, but apparently, Emanuel feels he should be helping out, too.”

“So what’d Papa tell him?”

“Said he needed to learn all he could while he’s young so he knows more when he’s older and can do a better job of whatever type of work he chooses.”

Leona smiled. “Papa’s just like Solomon in the Bible—full of good wisdom.”

Mom nodded. “Jah, my Jacob’s been blessed with a special gift, all right.”

“I’m going to see the chiropractor this afternoon,” Leona said, taking their conversation in another direction. “So if you have any errands you’d like me to run, I’ll be happy to do them for you.”

“I do have a quilt finished that I’d like to have dropped off at Abby’s quilt shop. Will you be going near there?”

“It won’t be a problem. I’ll go by the quilt shop on my way home after seeing Dr. Bowers.”

“Are his treatments helping any with your stiff neck or headaches?” Concern showed on her mamm’s face.

“My neck’s feeling better, but the headaches are still there. That ball must have done more damage than I realized.”

“Or maybe the headaches are from tension. You’re still grieving over Ezra, and I know—”

“I’m not grieving, Mom,” Leona said a bit too sharply, and she winced at her own snappish words. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so testy. It’s just that I’m getting tired of being reminded that Ezra’s dead. How am I ever going to get over him if everyone keeps bringing him up?”

“Your heart will heal in time, daughter, regardless of how many times you hear Ezra’s name.” Mom moved away from the cupboard and drew Leona into her arms. “Sooner or later, some other man will come along and win your heart, and then you’ll look forward to getting married again.”

Leona leaned her head on Mom’s shoulder and let the tears flow. If she lived one hundred years, she didn’t think she would ever stop loving Ezra, and she wasn’t about to open her heart to love again.

As soon as Jimmy clicked off his cell phone, he put the truck in gear. His dad’s kidnapping story was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard, but just to prove his dad was lying, he would drive over to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, and check things out. If an Amish child had been kidnapped from there twenty years ago, someone in the area should know about it. And if the trip turned up nothing, then he would call Dad again and demand to know the truth about how he came to live with them.

Two hours later, as Jimmy headed down Route 30 in Lancaster, he spotted an Amish buggy. It looked similar to the ones he’d seen in Ohio during one of the few trips he and his folks had made to see Grandpa and Grandma Scott, only this buggy was gray instead of black. Traffic
was a lot heavier than he’d thought it would be, and he noticed a multitude of shopping malls, restaurants, and tourist attractions on almost every block.

I wonder how the Amish manage with their horses and buggies in all this congestion
, he thought as he turned into the parking lot of a visitors’ center.

Inside the building, Jimmy found a rack near the front door full of brochures advertising Pennsylvania Dutch restaurants, authentic buggy rides, Amish country tours, hotels, and many local attractions.

“Guess I’d better start by finding a place to stay,” he muttered.

“How long will you be in the area, and would you like a couple of recommendations?” the young, dark-haired woman behind the information desk asked.

Jimmy scratched the side of his head. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying, but I’d appreciate any ideas you can give me.”

She pulled out a brochure from the stack on her desk and handed it to him. “There’s a nice bed-and-breakfast in Strasburg that has fairly reasonable rates. It’s run by a Mennonite couple and comes highly recommended.”

Jimmy studied the information, noting the picture of the tall, stately looking white house. It was surrounded by farmland, and an Amish buggy was shown heading up the road in front of the bed-and-breakfast.

“Thanks. I should be able to find the place with these directions,” he said as he studied the map on the back of the brochure.

“Can I help you with anything else?” the woman asked.

Jimmy leaned on the counter. “Well, I’m—uh—looking for a place that sells homemade root beer. Would you know of any in the area?”

“There’s lots of homemade root beer sold around here. You might find some at the farmer’s market in Bird-in-Hand.”

He shook his head. “The place I’m looking for is an Amish farm. I was told they had a sign out front by the road advertising root beer.”

“Many Amish families have begun supplementing their income by selling produce and various other items from roadside stands or shops built near their homes. I think I’ve seen a couple of places selling root beer near Strasburg, so you might ask the folks at the B and B.”

Jimmy started to turn away but hesitated. “I don’t suppose you’d know about any Amish babies being kidnapped in the area?”

The woman’s forehead wrinkled. “How long ago?”

“About twenty years.”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t living in Lancaster back then. You’ll have to ask someone who’s lived in the area that long.”

“Okay. Thanks for your time.” Jimmy put the brochure in his shirt pocket, along with a few others he’d plucked off the stand. He would head over to the bed-and-breakfast and see about getting a room. He’d then spend the rest of the day taking pictures of whatever he saw that interested him while searching for an Amish farm selling homemade root beer, which he felt sure was a complete waste of time.

“I’ll be taking off early today,” Jim told his foreman. “You and the rest of the crew can keep working if you want, or you can quit at noon, like I plan to do.”

“I thought you wanted to get this job done by Monday.”

“I did, but after starting it yesterday, I’ve come to realize that there’s too much work involved for us to be able to finish today. We may as well quit for the weekend and get an early start on this old, peeling house come Monday morning.” The house really would take longer to paint than Jim had figured, but the real reason he wanted to quit work early was so he could spend the rest of the day at his favorite tavern, drowning his sorrows and trying not to think about the confession he’d made to Jimmy earlier today.

“I don’t think we should quit working for the day just because we can’t get the job done until next week, and I can’t believe how much work you’ve missed lately.” Ed released a grunt and squinted at Jim. “I hope you’re not hitting the bottle again.”

“What I do on my own time is my business!”

“Okay, okay, don’t get so testy.” Ed lifted his hands. “You can take off whenever you want, and since you’re the boss and this is your business, I’ll just look the other way when your business folds.” He started to walk away but turned back around. “Of course, that will mean I’ll be out of a job, so I’d like to suggest something to you.”

“What’s that?”

“I have a brother-in-law who’s a recovered alcoholic, and he’s gotten
a lot of help from AA.”

Not the AA thing again
. Jim gritted his teeth.
Is everyone out to see me reformed?
“I’m not an alcoholic, Ed, so get off my back.”

“Whatever you say.” Ed studied Jim intently. “Mind if I ask you something else?”

“What now?”

“I’m curious to know why Jimmy hasn’t been at work all week, and I’m wondering why you’ve been late almost every day.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Jim said gruffly, “but Jimmy’s back East.”

Ed’s bushy eyebrows lifted on his forehead. “Back East? What’s he doing there when we need him here?”

“He’s on a quest.”

“What kind of quest?”

“To find his biological parents.”

Ed’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

Jim glared at his foreman. “Well, as you know, we got Jimmy from the East Coast twenty years ago.”

“Yeah, and you asked me not to mention Jimmy’s adoption to anyone because you wanted to tell him when he was old enough and you didn’t want him finding out some other way.”

“Right.”

“So now he knows?”

“Yeah, and he’s determined to find his birth mother.”
Which, of course, he won’t be able to do because she was Amish, and his sister said their mother was dead
. Jim grimaced.
I wonder if Ed knew what really happened if he’d blow the whistle on me
.

“Do you know when Jimmy might be coming back?”

Jim rubbed his hand down the side of his face, wishing he and Ed weren’t having this conversation. “I’m not sure. Guess it all depends.”

Ed shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to get along without him until he gets back then.”

Jim cringed.
Yeah, if he ever does come back
.