He turned as he heard the trio coming down the corridor, murmuring to each other in the Swiss-German they’d been raised to speak among their own. He wondered if it would surprise them to realize that he understood every word and decided he would leave them in the dark about that, at least for now. He didn’t want to raise their curiosity regarding his past or how he had come to learn their language. “Welcome,” he said jovially, indicating that Gunther should take one end of the table and then ushering the two women to the banquette built into the car against the windows.
In German, the woman Pleasant—who seemed to be anything but—murmured a comment about the magenta, tufted-velvet cushioning. She took her seat but did so with an expression she might have worn had she been asked to sit on a hot stove. Hannah gave him an apologetic smile and sat next to her sister-in-law.
Within seconds, a steaming bowl of soup had been served at each place and yet the three of them sat staring down at their bowls. Levi snapped open his white linen napkin and tucked it under his chin into the collar of his pristine white shirt. Still, they made no move, so he picked up his spoon.
“Shall we pray?” Gunther stretched out his hand to Pleasant who in turn took Hannah’s hand.
Dumbly, Levi stared down at Hannah’s hand extended palm-up to him and Gunther’s large work-worn palm stretching to cover the extra space from one end of the small dining table to the other. Levi put down his spoon, stretched to meet Gunther’s rough fingers and then placed his palm on top of Hannah’s. Her head was bowed but he saw her eyes shift to focus on their joined hands.
Gunther frowned when he observed that connection but then closed his eyes and the four of them sat in silence with heads bowed for several long moments. In spite of the lengthy time allotted for a simple mealtime grace, Levi couldn’t complain. He was far too busy analyzing the sensation of touching Hannah’s palm. Her skin was smooth and warm and once, when her fingers twitched, he responded automatically by wrapping his fingers around hers. Hannah’s breath quickened but she did not glance his way.
Gunther’s head remained bowed for so long that Levi could no longer see steam rising from the soup. At last, the older man ended the prayer by looking up and reaching for his napkin. Instantly, Hannah slid her fingers from Levi’s. She busied herself unfolding her napkin and placing it across her lap, then waited for her father-in-law to take the first spoonful of soup before dipping her spoon into her bowl.
“My family and I are indebted to you, Mr. Harmon, not only for your assistance in finding my grandson, but also in respecting our ways.”
“Not at all. I should have thought about the rooms I offered and their furnishings.”
There was a period of silence broken only by the clink of sterling soup spoons on china bowls and the rhythmic churning of the train’s wheels on metal tracks.
“How is it you know of our ways?” Gunther asked after a time. “After all, we Amish have not been in Florida for long.”
Levi saw Hannah glance at him and understood by her expression that it was a question she had wondered about as well.
“My company travels all over the Midwest and eastern states of America, sir. That includes Pennsylvania where I believe there is a large established community of Amish?”
“Several of them,” Gunther agreed and seemed satisfied with the response.
“How did you come to reside in Florida, sir?”
Gunther smiled. “My son was something of an adventurer. He and a friend had traveled to Florida during the time of their Rumspringa. That’s the time when…”
“I’m familiar with the tradition,” Levi said. When Hannah gave him a curious glance he added, “Isn’t that the time when parents permit—even encourage—their young people to explore the outside world before making their commitment to your faith?”
“That’s right,” Gunther said.
All three members of the Goodloe family were regarding him with interest, so Levi turned the conversation back to the original topic. “So your son came to Florida and…”
“When he returned, he could talk of nothing else. The weather. The possibility of growing crops year-round. The opportunities.” Gunther shook his head and smiled at the memory. “Even after he and Hannah had married and he had joined my bakery business, he would bring it up from time to time.”
“So you just picked up and moved?” Levi directed this question to Hannah, but it was Gunther who replied.
“As I said, we were in the bakery business and one night there was a fire. We lost everything. A few years earlier his mother had died and I had remarried. My second wife was from another Amish community in another state. They did things differently there and she was having some problems settling in. My son saw it all as God’s sign that we should start over someplace else.”
“Did you buy land then in Sarasota?”
“No. We did what we knew best. My son and I opened a bakery.” Gunther looked a little wistful for a moment and murmured, “It was all seeming to work out until…”
“My husband was killed when the wagon he was driving was struck by a motor vehicle,” Hannah said softly.
“My only boy,” Gunther said, his voice quavering.
Everyone concentrated on finishing their soup, then Hans directed the removal of the soup bowls and the serving of the cold cuts and side dishes. Levi was well aware that neither of the women had contributed to the limited conversation. It was going to be a long supper. He waited until everyone had been served then turned his attention to Hannah. “Tell me about your son,” he said.
Again, the slightest frown of disapproval from the old man, but Hannah appeared not to notice—or perhaps chose to ignore it.
“I have told you that his name is Caleb. He is eleven years old though tall for his age. He has blue eyes and his hair…” She paused as she appeared to notice Levi’s hair for the first time. “His hair is like corn silk,” she murmured and quickly averted her eyes to focus on her food.
“Do you think he might have changed into clothing that is less conspicuous?”
“Perhaps.”
“Where would he get such clothing?” Pleasant asked and then immediately glanced at her father and lowered her eyes.
Hannah shrugged. “I am only guessing. I mentioned the English hat. His Amish hat was still on its peg.” Her eyes glittered with tears that Levi guessed she would be far too proud to shed in his presence. They were tears of worry and exhaustion and he had to force himself not to cover her hand with his and assure her it would all turn out for the best. For after all, hadn’t it turned out that way for him after he’d run away to join the circus when he was only a few years older than Caleb was?
“I’m sure that the boy will turn up,” Gunther said as he pushed the last of his potato salad onto his fork with the crust of his bread. “We thank you for your hospitality, sir.” He placed his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair.
Levi knew that he should simply permit the supper to end so he could attend to the work he’d brought on board with him and yet he wanted more time. Why? Because of the lovely young widow? Or because he was for the first time seeing the effect that his
