It was rare for Old Order Amish to attend events hosted by other denominations, but tonight was an exception. Leah’s older sister, Miriam, and her husband, Charley, had volunteered to chaperone the outing for their church’s youth group, the Gleaners, and the bishop had given them special permission to do so. Leah, at twenty, was too old for the Gleaners, but she had been just as eager as her younger sisters, Rebecca and Susanna, to see the PowerPoint presentation and hear the Mennonite missionary share his experiences in spreading God’s word outside the United States.
A young man in jeans and a raincoat, carrying a briefcase and a camera, wandered in from the offices in the back, and Leah thought that he might be the speaker, but it was only a reporter from a local newspaper. She hoped that he wouldn’t attempt to take photos of the audience. Having pictures taken was against Amish beliefs, and if he tried to snap their picture, Charley and Miriam might decide that it was better to leave. To Leah’s relief, the man found a seat near the front and didn’t even look across the aisle at them.
The program had been scheduled to start at seven, but it was already twenty past the hour and Susanna was growing restless. Susanna had been born with Down syndrome, and although she was eighteen, in many ways, she would always be a child. Leah had convinced their mother to allow her to bring Susanna to the presentation this evening, so her sister was her responsibility.
Susanna wasn’t the only one losing patience with the long wait. Herman Beachy, who could never sit still for long, was tugging at his sister Verna’s bonnet strings and, by the expression on her face, she appeared ready to give him a sharp elbow in the ribs. Amish considered themselves nonviolent, but that didn’t mean brothers and sisters didn’t have their spats. Leah could see that the rest of the Gleaners were keyed up as well. If the youngsters became unruly, it would reflect badly on the entire Amish community, and that would put an end to any future outings of this kind.
Leah leaned forward, cleared her throat and threw Charley a meaningful look. See what’s keeping him, she mouthed silently.
We’ll just wait, he mouthed in return.
Leah rolled her eyes in exasperation. What was wrong with Charley? It had been his idea to bring the youth group, but now that they were here and things weren’t going as smoothly as expected, her usually gregarious brother-in-law seemed unsure of himself. Even Miriam seemed out of her element.
Leah wished she and Rebecca had come alone, as she’d first planned when she’d seen the notice for Daniel Brown’s talk. The sisters had recently returned to Delaware after spending a year in Ohio caring for their aging grandmother and great-aunt. The Amish church in Grossmama’s community had been more liberal than in Seven Poplars, and she and her sister had often gone to dinners, charity auctions and programs put on by the Mennonites. There, the two denominations mingled more regularly than in Seven Poplars.
Leah had never stopped to think that not all Old Order Amish were so at ease with the Mennonite community. And the same went for the Mennonites. She’d certainly seen it tonight when the Amish had all taken seats on one side of the aisle and the Mennonites on the other. And now, both Charley and Miriam, of all people, seemed nervous. Well, if they wouldn’t go see what was going on, she’d have to.
“Stay here with Rebecca,” she whispered to Susanna as she stood up.
Smiling, Susanna nodded and clasped Rebecca’s hand.
Leah crossed the aisle to where a gray-haired woman stood talking anxiously to a middle-aged man. Dinah was a cheerful woman who always wore a modest dress and a white crocheted head covering. She often stopped by the Yoder farm to purchase large quantities of eggs for her church bake sales. It was Dinah who’d made a special point of inviting the Seven Poplars Amish community to hear the speaker.
“It’s an opportunity not to be missed,” she’d said to Leah’s mother, Hannah, a few weeks ago. “Daniel Brown faced down an angry Moroccan mob to rescue a homeless youth falsely accused of theft. If Daniel hadn’t put his own life in danger to interfere, a tragedy could have occurred.”
“An excellent role model for our children,” Mam had agreed. She’d said no more about Daniel Brown, but Leah had seen her mother deep in conversation with their bishop after church the following Sunday. Both Leah and Miriam were convinced that it was due to Mam’s powers of persuasion that Bishop Atlee had agreed that the Gleaners should accept the invitation to hear the young missionary speak.
But now they were here and anxious for the program to begin…and there was no Daniel Brown in sight.
“I apologize for the delay,” Dinah said as Leah approached. “Daniel’s on his way. He’s usually very dependable, but he had some problem. Something about leaving his coat at a rest stop.” Dinah chuckled. “Men. But, we’re so pleased that so many from your church have come out to hear Daniel, especially the young people.”
“We didn’t want them to miss hearing Daniel’s story,” Leah said. “How often do we have a real hero in our midst?”
“Exactly,” Dinah agreed. “Oh, Leah, do you know my eldest son, Raymond?” When Leah nodded, Dinah went on. “Raymond’s been trying to reach Daniel on his cell phone to see how soon he expects to arrive, but he hasn’t had any luck. We thought he’d be here by now.”
“I’m sure it’s just the storm.” Leah offered a quick smile.
It was raining hard outside, and the wind was rattling the shutters. Earlier, as they’d driven here from the farm, they’d been caught in a sudden flurry of thunder and lightning so fierce that Leah had wondered if she should turn back, but that had passed, leaving just a steady downpour. Fortunately, there was a long, open shed with a good roof behind the Grange where they could shelter the horses and buggies.
“Daniel’s driving up from Richmond,” Dinah explained, “and I understand that Virginia’s had bad weather all day.”
The side door opened, and everyone glanced up expectantly. “Evening, Daniel,” Dinah said. “Maude.” The couple took seats on the Mennonite side in the last row, and Dinah turned back to Leah. “That’s Daniel Warner and his wife.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “They’re always late.”
“I’d hoped that was the speaker,” Leah said.
Dinah laughed. “We seem to have a lot of Daniels in our community. It’s a popular name among us. One of my sons is also a Daniel. Named after my father-in-law. My husband always teased that perhaps we should give them nicknames to keep the Daniels straight.” Another gust of wind shook the windowpanes and she grimaced. “If we’d realized that it would be such a nasty evening, we could have postponed until tomorrow night.”
“I see that there are pictures and other material up front.” Leah pointed. “I was wondering if it would be all right if the young people looked at them while we’re waiting.” She chuckled. “You know how impatient youngsters can get. They’ve been looking forward to tonight for weeks.”
“Absolutely,” Dinah said. “And we have a refreshment table. There’s no reason we shouldn’t all enjoy lemonade and cookies while—”
Abruptly, the heavy door at the front of the building banged open and a blast of wind blew through the hall sending photos and maps flying. Leah turned to see a tall, slim man about twenty-five years old standing in the doorway. Water dripped off his jean jacket and the bill of his ball cap, pooling on the floor. A gust tore at the door, threatening to wrench it out of his grasp, but he held it open until ten-year-old Abraham Beachy ducked into the hall.
