outburst, she rested in Leah’s arms with only occasional hiccupping sobs to break the awkward silence. Leah brushed Joy’s fine, soft hair away from her face and glanced at Caleb. Did he know how blessed he was to have this child?
She was forever comforting, caring for and teaching children who belonged to others. Her profession was a labor of love, a sacred duty, but it wasn’t like having children of her own. The unfairness of it cut deep. She longed to hold her own babe. She didn’t understand why God had chosen this path for her. She could only travel it as best she could and trust in His mercy.
After a few minutes, Joy sat up. She looked at her father. “Can I have an elephant now?”
Caleb reached behind the seat and brought out a red-and-yellow box made to look like a circus wagon, with colorful animals printed on the sides. He handed it to her. There were several similar boxes on the floor of the truck.
He must have noticed Leah’s gaze. “Sometimes they keep her from having a meltdown like the one you just witnessed. I stopped to stock up before heading out to the farm. She was sound asleep when I went in the store. I couldn’t have been gone more than five minutes.”
Leah didn’t want to feel sorry for him, but she couldn’t help it. It was easy to see that he didn’t know how to handle his newly acquired daughter. What was the story behind his cryptic comment about only being a father for six weeks? Had he adopted a special-needs child? Curiosity, often her downfall, prompted her to remain in the truck and learn more about Caleb and Joy.
Joy opened the box and picked out two elephant-shaped cookies. She looked at Leah. “Do you want one?”
Leah held out a hand. “May I have a lion?”
“Okay, sure.” Joy extracted two of them, laid the pair in Leah’s palm and gave her an endearing grin.
Children with Down syndrome were normally happy, gregarious individuals. Leah loved that about them. “What shall we give your daddy?”
“A bear,” Joy said quickly.
Leah glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His daughter’s remark caused a reluctant grin to tug at one side of his mouth. “Is that your way of telling me I’m as grumpy as an old bear?”
Leah leaned over to see Joy’s face. “Is your daddy grumpy?”
“Sometimes.” Cookie crumbs sprayed from her lips. She handed him three bears.
“I get grumpy sometimes, too,” Leah admitted. “So do you. What made you so upset a little while ago?”
The child bowed her head. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do. Your daddy can’t fix things for you if he doesn’t know what’s wrong.”
“He wants me to go away.”
“That’s not true,” Caleb said quickly.
“I wanna go home and be with Nana. I want Mama to come get me and take me home. She’ll never find me here.” She laid her head on Leah’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Leah glanced to Caleb for an explanation. He shook his head slightly. Whatever the story was, he didn’t want to recount it in front of the child. Another awkward minute of silence passed.
Joy sat up and cupped Leah’s face with her hands. “I’m sorry I was bad.”
Leah’s heart turned over. What a sweet child. “You are forgiven. You will like your grossmammi when you meet her, and she will love you.”
Joy tipped her head to the side. “What’s that?”
“Grossmammi? It’s the Amish word for grandmother.”
“Oh. What’s an Amish?”
Leah chuckled. “I am Amish. We are a Plain People who believe in remaining separate from worldly things and living a simple life so that we may live close to God and each other.”
“You’re not plain. You’re pretty.”
“So are you.” Leah gave her a quick hug. “But I need to be going. It’s getting late. I have a long walk home.”
“Don’t go!” Joy threw her arms around Leah’s neck and held on tight.
“Joy, stop that. She has to go.” Caleb tried to pull her arms loose.
“No,” she sobbed, and held on tighter.
“Stop. You’re hurting me. Let go and we will talk about it,” Leah said firmly.
Joy slowly released her grip. “I’m not bad.”
Leah waited for Caleb to say something, but he seemed at a loss for words. She took Joy’s hands and met her gaze. “No one said you are bad. However, your behavior just now was not very nice.”
“I want you to be my friend. I don’t want you to go away.”
“I am your friend, but I have to go home. You have to go meet your grandparents.”
Caleb spoke at last. “Let me give you a lift home. It’s the least I can do after all your help.”
Leah could see Joy was on the verge of another breakdown. She hated giving in. It wouldn’t teach Joy self-control if she got her way with her tantrums. Still, Leah didn’t want to be the cause of another episode. She hadn’t forgiven Caleb for the way he had treated her sister, but ignoring someone in distress, especially a child, wasn’t something she could do. Allowing Joy a chance to calm down might make their parting easier. “That’s kind of you to offer, Caleb. Danki.”
“Great.” His relief was almost comical.
Leah put her hand on the door handle. “I left a bag of groceries on the bench in front of the store. Could you get it for me, Joy?”
“Okay. You won’t go away before I get back, will you?”
“I will wait right here.”
“Put your shoes and coat on first,” Caleb said.
Joy climbed in the backseat, pulled her sneakers and jacket on, then climbed over Leah to get out.
Caleb relaxed as he watched his daughter run to pick up the grocery bag. “You’re very good with kids, Leah. How many do you have?”
“An entire school full.”
He scowled for a second and then smiled. A warm and genuine smile that smoothed the lines of worry from his brow. He was handsome in a rugged way that many women would find attractive. She refused to be one of them. A kind heart was more important than a handsome face.
“I assume that means you’re a teacher?”
“Ja, at Walnut Valley School.”
“The same one we attended as kids? That’s got to feel strange.”
“Not so much. Do you mind if I ask what happened
