The Bishop's Daughter (18 page)

Jim’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his belt clip and frowned. “Now what?” he mumbled with irritation. “If this phone keeps ringing, I’ll
never get to the tavern. And it had better not be another disgruntled customer wondering why we haven’t started working on their house yet.” All morning, he’d had complaints, and he was tired of the interruptions. He hadn’t even left the job site yet because he kept getting phone calls.

He checked the caller’s number showing in the screen on his phone. When he realized it was Jimmy, he answered right away. “Hi, Jimmy. I’m so glad you called. After our last conversation, I was afraid you might—”

“I’m in Lancaster County, Dad,” Jimmy interrupted. “I’ve spent all day driving around looking for Amish farms selling root beer, but as you may have guessed, I haven’t found a one.”

“Jimmy, I—”

“You made that kidnapping story up, didn’t you?”

“No, no, it’s the truth.” Jim leaned against the side of his van. “It took every ounce of courage for me to tell you the truth, Jimmy, and now that the story’s out, I’m really scared.”

“Scared of what?”

A trickle of sweat rolled down Jim’s forehead and dribbled onto his cheek. “If you find your Amish family and tell them who you are, they might press charges against me. I could end up in jail.”

“Come on now, Dad.”

“No, really. Why do you think I kept this story a secret all these years?”

“Because you were afraid of going to jail?”

“That’s right, and if your mother were still alive and knew about this, she’d be scared to death that if this leaks out I might be charged with kidnapping.”

“What are you saying—that Mom didn’t know the adoption had fallen through or that you’d snatched an Amish baby out of his own backyard?” Jimmy’s tone was mocking, and Jim’s frustration escalated.

“I couldn’t tell her. It would have broken her heart.”

“So you just let her believe I was the one-year-old kid you had planned to adopt?”

A muscle in Jim’s cheek quivered. “Right. I did it because I loved her and wanted to give her the child she’d been wanting for so long. And if you could have seen the expression on your mother’s face when
I returned to the hotel with you in my arms, you’d know why I did it. She was ecstatic.”

There was a long pause, and Jim wondered if Jimmy had hung up. “Jimmy? You still there?”

“Yeah, Dad. I’m just trying to piece this all together. If you really did take me from an Amish farm, then I need to know exactly where it was.”

“I—uh—I’m not sure where it was.” Jim opened the door to the van and climbed in. If Jimmy stayed in Amish country long enough, there was a good chance he might find his Amish family. And if that happened, Jim felt sure he would be arrested. Worse than that, Jimmy might never return to Washington. Jim had already lost his wife, and the thought of losing his son was almost unbearable. “When are you coming home, Jimmy?” he ventured to ask.

“Look, Dad, I’m really not convinced that you’re telling me the truth, but I think I’ll stick around here awhile anyway.”

“Do—do you need me to send you some money?”

“No, I found a job today—working for an Amish painter.”

Jim grimaced. “Why would you need a job? I just told you, I’ll send money if you need it.”

“Working for Jacob Weaver will not only provide me with a paycheck, but it’ll give me the chance to get to know some of the Amish people. Maybe I’ll learn something that might lead me to my real family—if you’re telling the truth about that.”

Jim massaged his throbbing temple. “How many times do I need to say it, Jimmy? I’m not lying—I kidnapped you from your Amish family, just like I told you yesterday when you called from Maryland.” He paused. “Uh, Jimmy—have you told anyone the reason you’re there?”

“Not yet. It wouldn’t make much sense for me to walk up to some Amish man and blurt out, ‘Oh, and by the way, Jimmy Scott’s not my real name. I’m actually the kidnapped child of an Amish family who live somewhere in Lancaster County.’ ”

“You’re right, it wouldn’t. Besides, they might not like you prying into their personal business. They may even think you’re a reporter trying to get a story on them or something, and I’m sure that wouldn’t be appreciated.”

“I doubt they would think that. It isn’t likely that a reporter would
take a job working as a painter, Dad.”

Jim shifted the phone to his other ear. “What if you do find your real family and they have me arrested, Jimmy? What if I have to spend the rest of my life in jail?”

“Listen, Dad, I’ve got to go. The battery on my phone is running low, and I need to get back to the B and B and get it charged.”

“Okay, but listen, Jimmy—”

The phone went dead, and Jim moaned as he leaned against his seat. A part of him wanted Jimmy to find his real family because it might relieve his guilt. But another part wished he could turn back the hands of time—back to the way things had been when Jimmy was a boy and knew nothing about his past.

J
immy had been working for Jacob Weaver a little over a week, and already he felt accepted by his easygoing boss. Jimmy was impressed with how well Jacob got along with all his employees—Amish and English alike.

This morning, Jimmy had been asked to work with Eli Raber, one of Jacob’s young Amish painters. They were scheduled to begin painting a one-room schoolhouse in the area. Jacob said he was pleased to have another English painter working for him who owned a truck. That would make it even easier when he had equipment that needed to be hauled to the job sites.

As the two young men headed down a narrow road, jostling up and down in Jimmy’s small pickup, Jimmy took the opportunity to get to know Eli better.

“Have you been working for Jacob Weaver long?” he asked.

“Started a year ago. How long have you been in Lancaster County?”

“A little over a week. Got here a few days before Jacob hired me.” Jimmy turned on the air conditioning, noting that the cab of his truck had become stuffy on this warm, summer morning.

“You just passin’ through, or are ya plannin’ to stick around?”

Jimmy shrugged. “It all depends on how things go.”

“You mean with your job?”

“That and a few other things.”

“Where you stayin’?”

“At a bed-and-breakfast in Strasburg. But I’ll need to make other arrangements, since it looks like I might be here awhile.”

“My folks have a trailer out behind our place that they’ve decided to rent. If you’re interested, you can come by after work and take a look.”

Jimmy nodded. “That sounds good to me.”

“I think you’ll enjoy workin’ for Jacob,” Eli said.

“He seems like a nice man who is respected by his employees.”

Eli nodded, and his blond hair bobbed up and down. “He’s highly thought of—not only as a paint contractor but also as the bishop of our community.”

Jimmy’s mouth dropped open. “Jacob’s a bishop?”

“Jah. Has been for a good many years.”

“I didn’t realize Amish bishops worked as tradesmen.”

“Some do. Others farm for a living.”

“So they don’t get paid for their position in the church?”

“Oh no. When they’re not fulfilling their preachin’ duties, they work, same as the rest of us Amish men do.”

Jimmy pursed his lips. “Guess there’s a lot I don’t know about the Amish way of life. Would you be willing to teach me?”

Eli smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Jah, sure. I’ll tell ya anything you wanna know.”

When Leona heard a vehicle pull into the school yard, she glanced out the window. A small red truck was parked in the graveled lot, and two men were climbing out. She hurried to the other side of the schoolhouse and opened the door. She recognized one of the men as Eli Raber, who worked for her daed. Eli wore a pair of blue jeans and a white short-sleeved shirt, which was typical work attire for an Amish man who hadn’t yet joined the church. The other man was an Englisher, also dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt, but he wore a painter’s cap on his head. When the two men came up the walk, she realized that the Englisher was the same man she’d met at Caleb and Naomi’s store a week ago. Apparently, he’d taken her suggestion and asked her daed about a job. From the looks of the equipment she saw piled in the back of his pickup, he’d obviously been hired.

“Wie geht’s, Leona?” Eli asked, stepping onto the porch.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Feelin’ hot and sticky, but that’s to be expected for this time of the year.” He turned to the English man at his side. “This is Jimmy Scott.
Your daed recently hired him, and we’ve come to paint the outside of the schoolhouse.”

Leona nodded. “If Papa didn’t own his business, the schoolhouse would be painted by my students’ parents. But he figured his men could get the job done much quicker.”

Jimmy smiled and reached out his hand to her. “We met at the general store in Paradise last week, remember?”

“I do remember, and it’s nice to see you again,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Thanks for suggesting I speak to your dad about a job. He hired me right away, and I really appreciate it.”

Leona was about to comment when Eli said, “How come you’re at the schoolhouse today? I didn’t figure anyone would be around the place.”

“I came to do some cleaning and organizing inside, so I won’t be in the way of your painting the outside of the building.”

“Will the inside walls need to be painted, too?” Jimmy asked.

She nodded. “Probably so. It’s been a few years since they’ve had a new coat of paint.”

“By the time we’re done, this old schoolhouse will look as good as new.” Jimmy grinned at Leona.

“Well, I’d best be gettin’ back to work,” she said, feeling kind of flustered. “Give a holler if either of you should need anything.”

“Danki,” Eli said, before Jimmy could comment.

Leona stepped inside the schoolhouse and quickly shut the door. Leaning her full weight against it, she released a quiet moan.
I can’t figure out why I feel so jittery all of a sudden. Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe I had too much coffee this morning. Jah, that must be it
.

As Jimmy’s paintbrush connected with each wooden board, he thought about the Amish world here in Lancaster County and wondered if he’d really been kidnapped when he was a baby. As farfetched as Dad’s story seemed, Jimmy couldn’t help but wonder if he had been born Amish what he might be doing at this very moment. Would he have become a farmer like some Amish men in the area, or might he have learned a
trade the way Eli and the others who worked for Jacob had done?