“What will you do if your son’s infatuation with the circus life has not yet been satisfied?” Levi asked.

“I don’t know,” Hannah admitted.

“I mean, Caleb is what? Eleven, you said?”

“Almost twelve.”

“Then he has some time.”

He saw her peer up at him curiously. “Time?”

“Well, as I understand it, a boy does not make a final decision to follow the ways of the Amish until he’s maybe fourteen?” He had taken this conversation too far and soon she would start to raise questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. Questions like how it was that he knew so much about the Amish life. He had almost opened the door to the past. What was it about this woman that made him want to do that? He’d had dealings with the other Amish before. But he had never had to face the daily reminder of what he had run away from all those years ago. Not until Hannah Goodloe had walked up to his front door and into his life.

ANNA SCHMIDT

is an award-winning author of more than twenty-five works of historical and contemporary fiction. She is a two-time finalist for a coveted RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America, as well as a four-time finalist for an RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award. Her most recent RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice nomination was for her 2008 Love Inspired Historical novel Seaside Cinderella, which is the first of a series of four historical novels set on the romantic island of Nantucket. Critics have called Anna “a natural writer, spinning tales reminiscent of old favorites like Miracle on 34th Street.” Her characters have been called “realistic” and “endearing” and one reviewer raved, “I love Anna Schmidt’s style of writing!”

Hannah’s Journey
Anna Schmidt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Yahweh has heard the sound of my weeping, Yahweh has heard my pleading. Yahweh will accept my prayer…

—Psalm 6:8–9

(New Jerusalem version)

To those who have dared

follow the beat of the different drummer.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Chapter One

Sarasota, Florida, May 1928

Levi Harmon pushed aside the piles of bills littering his desk and swiveled his high-backed, leather chair toward the series of leaded glass-paned doors that led outside to the front lawn. The room had been designed as a solarium, but Levi had seen little use for such a space and instead had located his Florida office in the room with its tiled terrazzo floor, its arched doors opening to the out-of-doors that he loved so much. After all, what was the use of being rich if not to live as you pleased?

He walked out onto the terrace and leaned against the stone railing. Before him the lawn stretched green and verdant past the swimming pool and rose garden, past the mammoth banyan trees that he’d insisted the builder spare when constructing the mansion and on to the gatehouse that was a miniature version of the mansion itself. He’d worked hard for all of this and had thought that by now he might be sharing it with a wife and children, but work had consumed him and he had never found a woman that he thought suited to the kind of vagabond life he’d chosen.

He’d come outside to think. Perhaps he should take a walk along the azure bay that most of the mansion’s rooms looked out on. That always calmed him whenever business worries piled up. And indeed, they had begun to pile up—not just for him but for many men who had taken the cash flows of their businesses for granted these past several boom years. He had started down the curved stairs to the lawn when he noticed a woman he did not recognize walking up the driveway.

She moved with purpose and determination, her strides even, her tall slender frame erect, her head bent almost as if in prayer. As she came closer, he saw that she wore a dark gray dress with a black apron and the telltale starched white cap that was the uniform of the Amish women. How was it possible that she had not been stopped at the gate, detained there while the gatekeeper made a call to the house?

At that same moment he heard the phone in the foyer jangle. He moved back to the open office doorway and continued watching the woman even as he half listened to his butler, Hans, hold a quiet conversation with the gatekeeper. The woman was even with the pool when Hans came onto the terrace to deliver his report.

“She is Mrs. Hannah Goodloe,” Hans said.

“She’s Amish—probably lives out near the celery fields,” Levi said impatiently. “What business could she possibly have here?”

“She would not say, but insisted on speaking with you personally. Shall I…”

Levi waved him away and went inside, rolling down the sleeves of his white shirt as he retrieved his jacket from the hall tree in his office. “Show her to the Great Hall,” he said as he ran his fingers through his copper brown straight hair.

“Very good, sir,” Hans murmured, but his words came with little approval. “May I remind you, sir, that your train…”

“I know my schedule. This won’t take long.”

“Very good, sir.”

Levi listened to the tap of his butler’s leather heels crossing the marble foyer to take up his post at the massive double front door. By now she should have reached them and yet neither the bell nor the door knocker sounded. Had she changed her mind?

He crossed his office and peered outside. No sign of her retreating. Assuming she was standing on the front steps, perhaps gathering her courage, he could simply walk around to the front of the house and encounter her there. But for reasons he did not take the time to fathom, it seemed important that this woman—this stranger—enter his house, see the proof of all that he had accomplished, marvel at the beauty of his self-made world in spite of her religion’s stand against anything deemed ostentatious.

And even as the chime of the front doorbell resonated throughout the house, Levi thought not so much of the present, but of a time when he was not so different from this plain-living woman who now stood at his door.

Just by coming to the winter home of the circus impresario, Hannah had probably violated several of the unwritten laws of the Ordnung followed by people of her faith. In the first place, the minute the gatekeeper had turned his back to make the call to the mansion, she had slipped past him and started her walk up the long drive. Surely that was wrong. But she had to see the only man capable of finding her son.

All the way up the drive, she kept her eyes on the ground half expecting to hear the gatekeeper running to catch up with her as she followed the pristine, white-shell path until it curved in front of the massive house itself. Only then did she glance up and her breath caught. The house soared three stories into the cloudless blue sky, its roof lined with curved terra-cotta tiles sparkling in the late-morning sun. Curved iron balconies hung from large arched windows on the second and third stories, and everywhere the facade of the house had been festooned with ornate carvings, colorful tiles and stone figures that were as frightening as they were fascinating.

Hannah dropped her gaze and started up the front stairs, avoiding the detailed iron railing that lined either side of the wide stairway and refusing to be tempted to admire the tiered fountain where water splashed like music. Even the stairs were a rainbow of colorful marble in pink and purple and pale green. She supposed that for a man like Levi Harmon—a showman known for his extravaganzas and exotic menagerie of animals from around the world—a little purple marble was to be expected. She sucked in her breath, straightened her spine and prepared to knock.

But the massive wood door was covered by a gate, a barricade in filigreed iron that boasted twin medallions or perhaps coats of arms where she might have expected the obvious door handle to be located. Perturbed more than amused at this need for such material grandeur, Hannah took a step back and studied the house. Determined not to be daunted in her mission, she made a detailed study of the entrance. After all, the man entertained guests, did he not? Surely those people had to at some point enter and exit the house.

The doorbell was housed in the uplifted hand of a bronze sculpture of a circus clown located to the right of the door. Hannah took a deep breath, uttered a short prayer begging God’s forgiveness for any misdemeanor she might be committing and pressed the button. When she heard a series of muffled bells gong inside the grand house, she locked her knees rigidly to keep them from shaking and waited for the doors to open.

“Good morning, Mrs. Goodloe,” a man dressed in a black suit intoned as he swung open the inside door, and then opened the wrought-iron screen for her. “Please come in. Mr. Harmon is just completing some business. He asks that you wait for him in here.”

The small man of indeterminate age led the way across a space that by itself was larger than any house she’d ever seen. Hannah avoided glancing at her surroundings, but could not miss the large curved stairway that wound its way up to the top of the house, or the gilt-framed paintings that lined the walls.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” the man was saying as he led her down three shallow steps into a room easily twice the size of the space they had just left. He indicated one of four dark blue, tufted-velvet sofas. “Mr. Harmon will be with you shortly.”

“Is that…” Hannah stared across the room at a wall of polished brass pipes in a range of sizes and the large wooden piece in front of them.

“The Butterfield pipe organ? Indeed,” the man reported with obvious pride. “Mr. Harmon purchased that when they demolished the old Butterfield Theatre in London. He had it taken apart, labeled, then shipped here to be reassembled. It makes the most wondrous sound.”

“I see.” She had no idea what he was talking about. She had simply been taken aback to see an enormous pipe organ in a private home.

“Actually, the organ was Mr. Harmon’s gift to me, ma’am.” And then as if reminding himself that he was not to offer such information, he cleared his throat. “May I offer you a cool glass of water, ma’am?”

She had walked the five miles from her father-in-law’s house near the celery fields down Fruitville Street, and then along the bay to the Harmon estate. But she had not come on a social call. “No, thank you,” she replied as she perched on the edge of one of the sofas and folded her hands primly in her lap.

Seconds later, the silence surrounding her told her that she was alone. If she liked she could walk around the grand room, touch the furnishings, peer at the many framed pictures that lined the tops of tables and even satisfy her curiosity to know what the bay might look like seen through one of the multi-colored panes of glass in the sets of double doors that lined one wall. But an Amish person was never truly alone. One was always in the presence of God and as such, one was always expected to consider actions carefully.

Hannah focused on her folded hands and considered the rashness of her action in coming here. But what other choice did she have? Caleb was missing and she had every reason to believe that he had run away. Oh, she had been foolish to think that taking him to the circus grounds the day before would somehow dampen his romantic ideal of what circus life was like. She had thought that once the boy saw the reality of the dirt and stench and hard work that lay behind the brightly colored posters, he would appreciate the security and comfort of the life he had. She had even thought of promising him a visit to his cousins in Ohio over the summer as a way of stemming his wanderlust. But when she had gone to his room to rouse him for school this morning, he hadn’t been there and his bed had not been slept in.

She laced her fingers more tightly together and forced herself to steady her breathing. She would find Caleb even if she put herself in danger of being shunned to do it.

“Mrs. Goodloe?”

She’d heard no step on the hard, stone floor and yet when she looked up, Levi Harmon was standing at the entrance to the oversized room. He was a tall man, easily topping six feet. He looked down at her with eyes the color of the rich hot chocolate her mother used to make. “I understand there is a business matter we need to discuss,” he added as he came down the shallow stairs, and took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa she already occupied. “I must say I am curious,” he admitted, and his eyes twinkled just enough to put her at ease.

“My son, Caleb,” she began and found her throat and mouth suddenly dry. She licked her lips and began again. “My son, Caleb, is missing, Mr. Harmon. I believe that he may have run away.”

“Forgive me, ma’am, but I hardly see…”

“…With your circus,” she added, and was relieved to see his eyes widen with surprise even as his brow furrowed with concern.

“It would not be the first time,” he said more to himself than to her as he stood and walked to the glass doors, keeping his back to her. “What does your husband think happened to the boy?”

“My husband died when Caleb was four. He’s eleven now. This past year he has…” She searched for words. “There have been some occasions when he has tested the limits that our culture sets for young people.”

“He’s been in trouble,” Levi Harmon said.

“Nothing serious,” Hannah hastened to assure him. “Then last month I found one of your circus posters folded up and hidden under his mattress. When I asked for an explanation, he told me that he wanted to join your circus. He had actually spoken to one of the men you employ to care for the animals.”

“And what did you say in response to this announcement?”

“I tried to make him see that the poster was nothing more than paint on paper, that it made the life seem inviting but it was not real. That nothing about the circus is real.”

She saw him stiffen defensively. “Oh, I know that it’s your livelihood, Mr. Harmon, and I mean no disrespect. But for people like us—for a boy like Caleb—it’s a life that goes against everything we believe.”

“What happened next?”

Hannah was surprised that he did not question her further, but rather seemed determined to get at the root of her story. This was the part that was hardest for her because in the seven years since her husband had died, she and Caleb had never had a harsh word between them. “He became quite unlike himself,” she said almost in a whisper. “He was sullen and stayed to himself. I went to our bishop but he said that time was the great healer.”

“And you believed that?”

“For a while,” she admitted. “But when nothing changed I decided to go against the bishop’s advice and take action.”

He turned to look at her. “What did you do?”

“I took Caleb to your circus, Mr. Harmon.”

Levi tried and failed to disguise his shock that she would do such a thing. “You saw the show?”

“No. I took him to the grounds after the matinee yesterday. I wanted him to get a glimpse of what living the life of a circus worker would really be.”

“My performers and crew are well cared for, Mrs. Goodloe. They have chosen this life for any number of reasons and…”

“I did not mean to imply otherwise, sir. However, a young boy’s eyes are often clouded by the color and excitement associated with that life—the parades and the applause and such.” She stood up and moved a step closer as if she needed to make her point and yet the tone of her voice remained soft and even solicitous. “I wanted Caleb to see that a life of traveling from place to place could be a difficult one.”

He could find no argument for that. Instead, he turned the topic back to her reasons for coming to him.

“That matinee was our last show of the season down here,” he said. “At this moment the company is on its way to our headquarters in Baraboo, Wisconsin, with stops along the way, of course.”

“And I have reason to believe that my son is on that train,” she said. “I have come here to ask that you stop that train until Caleb can be found.”

“Mrs. Goodloe, I am sympathetic to your situation, but surely you can understand that I cannot disrupt an entire schedule because you think your son…”

“He is on that train, sir,” she repeated.

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because besides the fact that Caleb was not in his bed when I went to wake him this morning, there were two other things missing from his room.”

Levi waited but she had his full attention. He had never met a woman whose outward demeanor was so gentle, even submissive and at the same time, her eyes reflected an inner strength and certainty that she would not back down.

“About the time he began to have problems within the community he began wearing an old hat he found once. A fedora, I believe it’s called. That hat was not on its usual peg this morning.”

“So, the boy went out and wore his hat,” Levi said, resisting the patronizing smile he felt about to reveal.

“That’s true,” she said, “but he had also taken a jar of coins that he’s been saving for months now, adding to it almost weekly after taking on odd jobs for others in the community.”

Levi flashed back to his own packing the day he decided to run away. He, too, had taken money carefully squirreled away for months as he planned his escape. “Still, neither of those items ties my circus to his plan. He could have just…left.”

She smiled and it was unsettling how that simple act changed everything about her. Suddenly, she looked younger and more vulnerable and at the same time, so very sure of herself. “Caleb would never leave without a plan,” she said. “From the time he was four or five, Caleb has planned his days. Then it was that he would spend the morning at play and then have the noon meal with his grandfather before spending the afternoon helping out at his uncle’s carpentry shop. Once he entered school he would write out a daily schedule, leaving it for me so that I would not worry.”

“Am I to assume there was no schedule this morning?”

“No. Just this.” She produced a lined piece of paper from the pocket of her apron and handed it to him. In a large childish script the note read,

Ma,

Don’t worry. I’m fine and I know this is all a part of God’s plan the way you always said. I’ll write once I get settled and I’ll send you half my wages by way of General Delivery. Please don’t cry, okay? It’s all going to be all right.

Love, Caleb

“There’s not one word here that indicates…”

“He plans to send me part of his wages, Mr. Harmon. That means he plans to get a job. When we were on the circus grounds yesterday, I took note of a posted advertisement for a stable worker. My son has been around horses his entire life.”

Once again, Levi found it difficult to suppress a smile. “I believe that posting was for someone to muck out the elephant quarters,” he said and saw that this was news she had not considered.

“Oh. Well, Caleb also saw that posting although he tried hard to steer me in the opposite direction and frankly, it did not occur to me that there might be a connection until I arrived at the grounds before coming here and saw the sign lying in the sawdust where the tent had been.”

“And on that slimmest of evidence you have assumed that your son is on the circus train that left town last night?”

She nodded. She waited.

Levi ran one hand through his hair and heaved a sigh of frustration. “Mrs. Goodloe, please be reasonable. I have a business to run, several hundred employees who depend upon me, not to mention the hundreds of customers waiting along the way because they have purchased tickets for a performance tonight or tomorrow or the following day.”

She said nothing but kept her eyes—a startling and unexpected shade of forget-me-not blue, he realized—focused squarely on him.

“Tell you what I’ll do,” he said without the slightest idea of how he might extricate himself from the situation. He stalled for time by pulling out his pocket watch, glancing at the time and then snapping the embossed silver cover shut and slipping it back into the pocket of his vest. “I am leaving at seven this evening for my home and summer headquarters in Wisconsin. Tomorrow, I will meet up with the circus train and make the remainder of the journey with them. If your boy is on that train I will find him.”

“Thank you,” she said, her head slightly bowed so that for one moment he was unclear whether or not her gratitude was directed at him or to God. She lifted her gaze to his and touched the sleeve of his suit jacket. “You are a good man, Mr. Harmon.”

“There’s one thing more, Mrs. Goodloe.”

Anything, her eyes exclaimed.

“I expect you to come with me.”

Chapter Two

“You can’t…that is…why…I could not possibly.…”

“Those are my terms, Mrs. Goodloe. Assuming you are correct and your son is traveling with my circus, then it is my duty to find the boy and return him to you. However, as I mentioned, I have a business to run and other people who must be considered. Once the boy is found it would only be right for you to take charge of him from that point forward.”

Without her being aware of moving, Hannah suddenly realized that Levi Harmon had escorted her back into the foyer where his servant stood by the door. “Hans, please make sure that Mrs. Goodloe has all of the information she needs to meet us at the railway station tonight.” He turned back to Hannah then and took her hand between both of his. “I wouldn’t worry, Mrs. Goodloe. The likelihood is that by the time you are reunited with your son he will be more than happy to come home, and any concerns you might have about his wanderlust will have been cured.”

“Shall I call for your car to take Mrs. Goodloe home?” Hans asked.

“I…” Hannah searched for her voice which seemed to have been permanently silenced by her shock at the recent turn of events.

“Mrs. Goodloe and her people do not travel by motorized vehicle,” Levi explained. “Unless, of course, the situation is an unusual one.” His eyes met hers just before he entered the room off the foyer and closed the door.

The man called Hans seemed every bit as nonplussed as Hannah was. “I believe we have a bicycle,” he said. “Would that be all right?”

“Thank you, Mr. Hans, but I walked here and I can walk back.” Squaring her shoulders and forcing herself not to so much as glance at the closed door where Levi Harmon was, she marched to the open front door.

Hans scurried to open the iron gate for her. “It’s simply Hans, ma’am,” he said.

Hannah paused and looked at him. “You have no last name?”

“Winters,” he managed, “but…”

“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Winters.”

“Mr. Harmon’s private car will be attached to the train leaving for Atlanta at 7:02 this evening, ma’am. You really only need to pack a single valise. Everything you may need will be provided. Mr. Harmon is extraordinarily good to his guests.” His voice was almost pleading for her to not think too badly of his employer.

“Thank you, Mr. Winters.” She shook his hand. “It was my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She started down the drive and, although she refused to look back, she was suddenly certain that Hans Winters was not the only one watching her go.

By the time she reached the edge of the celery fields with their cottages in the background, it was midafternoon. The five-mile walk had given her ample time to consider the possibilities before her—and to pray for guidance in choosing correctly.

Instead of stopping at her small bungalow, she went straight to her father-in-law’s bakery. As she had suspected, he was still there—as was his eldest daughter Pleasant, who had helped him run the business since the death of her mother. Hannah frowned. She had hoped to find Gunther Goodloe alone. Pleasant was the anti thesis of her name. A spinster, she seemed always to look on the dark side of any situation. Hannah could only imagine how she might react to the idea that Hannah needed to travel—by train—to find Caleb.

Hannah took a deep, steadying breath, closed her eyes for a moment to gather her wits, then opened the door to the bakery.

“We’re closed,” Pleasant barked without looking up from her sweeping.

“Hello, Pleasant. Is Gunther in the back?”

“Where else would he be?”

Hannah saw this for the rhetorical question it was and inched past her sister-in-law. Her father-in-law was a short and stocky man with a full gray beard that only highlighted his lack of hair. “Good day to you,” Hannah called out over the clang of pans that Gunther was scrubbing. She took a towel from a peg near the back door of the shop, and began drying one of the pans he’d left to drain on the sideboard.

“The boy took off, did he?”

Hannah nodded.

“Any idea where he went?”

“Yes.” She inhaled deeply and then told her father-in-law her suspicions.

“The circus? Well, he wouldn’t be the first.” He shook the water from his large hands and then wiped them on a towel that had once been a flour sack. “Do you want me to go down there and fetch him home?”

“You can’t. The circus company left before dawn.”

Gunther raised his bushy eyebrows but said nothing.

“I went to see Mr. Levi Harmon,” she admitted.

“Why would you do such a thing on your own, Hannah? Why wouldn’t you have come to me—or the bishop—right away and let us handle this?”

“Because Caleb is my son.”

“Nevertheless…”

“It’s done,” she interrupted, “and now we must decide what to do next.”

“What did Harmon have to say? He can’t have been any too pleased to have you accusing him of harboring a runaway.”

“I didn’t accuse him of anything. I simply asked for his help in bringing Caleb home. He leaves this evening and plans to meet up with the company tomorrow and travel the rest of the way back to Wisconsin with them.”

“So if Caleb is with the company, he’ll send him back?”

Hannah swallowed. “He’s agreed to look for Caleb.”

“And if he finds him?” Gunther looked at her with suspicion.

There was no use beating about the bush. She met his gaze. “He expects me to come with him and bring Caleb home myself.”

“You cannot travel alone, child.” The older man ran his hand over the length of his gray beard.

Hannah held her breath. He was not saying she shouldn’t go.

“I think this is a matter for the bishop to decide,” he said finally. He took down his hat from the peg by the side door. “Pleasant? Hannah and I will be back shortly.”

Pleasant cast one curious glance at Hannah and then returned to her sweeping. “I’ll be here,” she said.

They found Bishop Troyer at home and Hannah stood quietly by the front door while Gunther explained the situation. The two men discussed the matter in low tones that made it difficult for Hannah to hear. Twice the bishop glanced directly at her, shook his head and returned to the discussion. I should have simply agreed to go with him, she thought and then immediately prayed for forgiveness in even thinking such a thing. But this is my son—my only child and I…

“Hannah? The bishop would like a word with you.”

Her legs felt like wood as she crossed the room and took a seat on the hard straight-backed chair opposite Bishop Troyer. She folded her hands in her lap more to steady them than to appear pious and kept her eyes lowered, lest he see her fear.

“This is indeed an unusual circumstance, Mrs. Goodloe, but at the core of it all is the undeniable fact that a boy—one of our own—is missing. And although you may be right in surmising that he has run away with the circus, we must be sure.”

Hope tugged at her heart and she risked a glance at the kindly face of the bishop. His brow was furrowed but he was not frowning, just concentrating, she realized. He was trying to work out a solution that would serve the purpose of finding Caleb and bringing him home without going too far afield from the traditions that governed their community.

“It seems to me that Mr. Harmon’s offer is a kind and generous one.”

“Oh, he is a good man, Bishop, I’m certain of that,” Hannah blurted.

This time there was no mistaking the frown that crossed both the bishop’s face and her father-in-law’s. Gunther cleared his throat and when she glanced at him, he shook his head as if warning her to remain silent.

“I have given my permission for you to take this journey as long as your father-in-law and your sister-in-law, Pleasant, travel with you.”

Hannah’s heart fell. “But the bakery,” she whispered, knowing there was no one else Gunther would trust with his business.

“I have some time,” the bishop replied, “as well as some experience in managing a business. I have offered to watch over the store while you are away.”

She could hardly believe her ears. The bishop’s offer was beyond anything she might have imagined possible. She glanced at Gunther who had offered the bishop a handshake—a contract in their society as binding as any piece of paper.

“Well, child, we must go. You said the train will leave at seven?”

Hannah nodded, unable to find words to express her joy and relief.

“Then come along. You and Pleasant can see to the packing while the bishop and I go over some of the particulars of managing the business for a few days.”

Levi had spent the rest of the day in his office tending to the mountain of paperwork in preparation for vacating the Florida house for his more modest home in Wisconsin. For the next few weeks he would conduct his business from his private railway car. The Florida staff would see to the closing of his Sarasota residence and the opening of his home in Baraboo. With the exception of Hans who would travel with him, others of his household staff would travel directly to Wisconsin while he and Hans caught up with his company and made the scheduled stops with the circus for performances along the way.

He’d tried not to think about the Goodloe woman. He was fairly certain that she would not—could not—meet his demand that she travel with him to find her son. It had been ridiculous to even suggest such a thing and yet there had been something about the way she had looked at him as he dismissed her and returned to his office that made him uncertain.

The boy had run away and perhaps had inherited his wanderlust from his mother. It was intriguing to think that she was the parent with the adventurous streak. Over the years he had spent living the circus life, never once could he recall a female running away to join the troupe. Of course, Mrs. Goodloe was not exactly planning to join the traveling show. She simply wanted to find her son. But would she defy the counsel of her community’s elders to accomplish that? He doubted it.

And he had no more time to give to the woman’s problem. No doubt the boy had stowed away on the train. No doubt he would be discovered. No doubt that by week’s end he would be back in his own bed. Levi knew that his managers would see to that. Besides, he had other far more serious matters to consider. How was it that when his circus had just completed its most successful season yet in terms of sold-out performances, the numbers did not reflect that? Expenses had risen to be sure but it seemed impossible that the cost of feeding and housing a menagerie of exotic animals and a hundred-plus performers and crew could explain such a disparity in revenue.

“Your car is waiting, sir,” Hans announced with a meaningful glance at the nineteenth-century, gilded French clock that dominated the narrow marble mantel of the fireplace. The manservant was dressed in traveling clothes and holding Levi’s hat as well as his own.

Levi gathered the papers he would need and stuffed them into the valise that Hans had brought to him earlier. “I should change,” he muttered irritably and then wondered why. It was unlikely that there would be anyone at the station to see him off. Levi was a generous supporter of many charitable groups throughout this part of Florida, but he was known to be a reclusive man and most people had learned to respect that—even though they openly commented on the paradox that a man known for his extravagant entertainments and lavish lifestyle should be so protective of his personal privacy.

“Let’s go,” he told Hans as he headed for the door.

The weather had deteriorated. The air was steamy with humidity and the sky had gone from blue to a steel gray that held the promise of rain. He thought of Hannah Goodloe, imagining her walking back to the small Amish community east and north of the train station. For reasons he could not fathom, he felt the desire to make certain she arrived home before the rain began. He should have insisted on having his driver take her back. Surely she was there by now. Surely she had taken precautions for the weather.

At the station his private railway car was attached to the train that regularly made the run from Sarasota to Tampa and then from there to points north. Once the train reached Jonesville on the Florida/Georgia border, his car would be disconnected from the regular train and attached to his circus train. By the time they reached Baraboo, they would have performed in a dozen towns across half a dozen states and it would be June in Wisconsin.

“All aboard!” the conductor bellowed as Levi strode the length of the hissing and belching train to where his car waited. He passed clusters of passengers that had gathered on the platform to say their goodbyes and board the public cars. Not one of them paid the slightest attention to him but he could not help scanning their faces to see if she had come after all.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, but while Hans handed the rail attendant Levi’s valise, Levi looked back, down the length of the now almost deserted platform.

“Board!” The conductor’s call seemed to echo and exaggerate the fact that she was nowhere in sight.

“Sir?” Hans stood at his elbow waiting for him to mount the filigreed metal steps to enter his car.

Levi nodded and climbed aboard but took one last look back. And there, out of the steam and fog, he saw three figures—two women and a bearded man—consulting with the conductor who pointed them in Levi’s direction.

He felt a strange sense of relief that bordered on victory. She had come after all and apparently with her family’s blessing, assuming her two companions had accompanied her to see her off. “Make sure the guest stateroom is prepared,” he said to Hans as he stepped back onto the platform and walked toward the trio. “Mrs. Goodloe,” he said, removing his hat and smiling broadly.

“Mr. Harmon, may I introduce my father-in-law, Gunther Goodloe, and my late husband’s sister, Pleasant.”

It was only when the older man shifted a worn cardboard suitcase from one hand to the other in order to accept his handshake that Levi realized they were all three carrying luggage. “I see you came prepared to stay for some time, Mrs. Goodloe. However, if your son is…”

“My father and sister-in-law will be accompanying me on the journey, Mr. Harmon. The conductor tells us that the regular seating is filled and I apologize for not notifying you sooner of the extra passengers, but…”

Levi turned his attention to the man. “I assure you, sir, your daughter-in-law will travel in comfort and there is no reason at all for you to…”

“Our bishop has given his permission for this unusual trip,” Gunther Goodloe said in a gentle but firm tone, “and he has done so only on the understanding that our Hannah will not make this journey alone.” He smiled and shrugged as if he’d just made some observation about the inclement weather.

“I see.” He could feel Hans watching him nervously, waiting for instruction. He could see the conductor checking his pocket watch and casting impatient looks in his direction. “Well, come aboard then and let’s get you all settled in.” He waited while the three-some climbed the stairs and then turned to Hans. “Prepare my quarters for the gentleman. The two women can stay in the larger guestroom.”

“Very good, sir.” Hans knew better than to question his boss, although the question of where Levi would sleep was implicit in the look he gave his employer. He walked to the far end of the car and boarded from there. Levi was well aware that while he was giving his guests the grand tour of the viewing room, the dining room and the parlor, Hans would be organizing the staff to prepare the rooms.

Once Levi had left the ladies and Gunther Goodloe to rest before dinner in their staterooms, he let out a long sigh of relief. The older man made him nervous. Not intentionally, of course. Gunther was the epitome of polite reserve, but it was that very reserve that brought back memories Levi had thought he’d long ago laid to rest. Memories of his late father—a man who, like Gunther, said little in words but spoke volumes with his half smile and expressive pale blue eyes. And his grandfather, whose strict household where Levi had lived after his parents died had been the deciding factor in his decision to run away.

“Mr. Harmon?”

Levi had been so lost in the past that he had not heard the young widow come in. Of course, even within the quiet of his luxurious car, there was always the steady rumble of the train moving over the tracks. He fixed a smile on his face and turned to greet her. “I trust everything is to your liking, Mrs. Goodloe?”

“It’s very…” She hesitated, studying the pattern of the Oriental rug that carpeted the combination dining and sitting room. She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes for an instant, then met his gaze directly. “I’m afraid that the accommodations simply won’t do,” she said. “Not at all. My family and I simply cannot stay here.”

Chapter Three

“We are on a moving train, Mrs. Goodloe.” His head was throbbing. Would these people never be satisfied?

“I appreciate that,” she replied without a hint of the sarcasm he’d infused into his comment. “I only thought that my father-in-law could perhaps share whatever accommodations Mr. Winters uses.”

“Mr. Winters? Hans?”

“Yes. I am thinking that his accommodations are… plainer and would be more comfortable for my father-in-law.”

“And where would you and Miss Goodloe stay?”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted. “It’s just that Gunther—Mr. Goodloe—seemed troubled by his surroundings. He’s of the old school and…”

“You and your sister-in-law are not?” Levi felt the twitch of a smile jerk at one corner of his mouth. He could see that she had not considered this in her zeal to assure her father-in-law’s comfort, but after a moment she offered him a tentative smile.

“We can perhaps make do if you would agree to certain minor changes that would allow Pleasant to feel more at ease.”

“What kinds of changes?”

“If we might have some plain muslin cloth—perhaps some linens that are plain, we could cover some of the more…” Her voice trailed off.

Levi closed his eyes in a vain attempt to get control of his irritation and found himself thinking about the room he had given the women for the night. The cabin had ample room for two. A sofa upholstered in Parisian brocade that folded out into a bed and an upper berth. Above the cabin door hung a painting from his collection in a thick gilded frame. The dressing table was stocked with a variety of toiletries in elegant crystal bottles, each set into a specially designed compartment to keep it secure when the train was in motion. The lighting in the room came from wall sconces that sported laughing cherubs and the floor was outfitted with a thick sheepskin rug. For people like the Goodloe family, he could see that the place might come across as anything but “plain.”

“Could we not do the same for Mr. Goodloe in my room?”

“I suppose. It’s just that he’s beginning to think that we made a mistake in accepting your kind and generous offer.” To his shock her eyes filled suddenly with tears. “Oh, Mr. Harmon, I want so much to find my son and bring him home but if my father-in-law decides we’ve made a mistake and the train stops to take on more passengers and…”

A woman’s genuine distress had always been Levi’s undoing. “Hans!”

The manservant appeared immediately. “Sir?”

“Mr. Goodloe will be bunking in with you for the duration of our trip. I apologize for any inconvenience but it’s necessary.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll see to it at once. Will there be anything else?”

“Yes, while we are at dinner, please see that Mrs. Goodloe’s stateroom is refurbished. Remove anything that shines or glitters or smacks of flamboyance. Use plain linens to make up the beds and see if you can locate a couple of those rag rugs you use at the mansion for wiping our feet inside the garden entrance to put by each bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And cover the paintings and mirrors,” Levi added as Hans hurried off to do his bidding. “They are bolted to the walls,” he explained when he saw Hannah’s puzzled look.

“I’ll go and let the others know. May God bless you, Mr. Harmon.” She was halfway down the narrow corridor when he called her back.

“Mrs. Goodloe?”

This time her face was wreathed in a genuine and full-blown smile that took his breath away. He had intended to reassure her that her son would be found and before she knew it, she and her family would be safely back home. But the attraction that shot through him like a bolt of adrenaline before a tightrope walker steps out onto the wire for the first time made him react with the same philosophy by which he had lived his entire life. Never let the other person believe he—or she—has won.

“I am a businessman,” he began, and saw her smile falter slightly. “I rarely if ever do anything without expecting something in return.” The way her spine straightened almost imperceptibly and her chin jutted forward with just a hint of defiance fascinated him.

“I thought you had invited us here as your guests, sir.”

“That’s true.”

“Then what is your price?”

“I would like to know your given name and be allowed to call you by it when we are alone.”

Her lips worked as if trying to find words. Her eyes widened. And then to his delight she burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one, Mr. Harmon. You had me going there for a moment.”

“I’m serious.”

She sobered. “My name is Hannah.”

“Hannah,” he repeated. “Well, dinner will be served in fifteen minutes, Hannah. And I assure you that the food will be plain enough even for your father-in-law.” He turned away, busying himself by flipping through a stack of messages Hans had left for him on the sideboard. He was aware that she remained standing in the doorway to the corridor but he refused to turn around.

“I’ll tell my family,” she said, and then added in the lowest possible tone to still be heard clearly. “Thank you, Levi.”

All the way back to her room, Hannah sent up pleas for forgiveness. From childhood on she had been known for her impish personality. But she was a grown woman now—a mother, a widow. Surely such mischievous behavior was beneath her. Levi Harmon could have turned her away at the door of his lavish Sarasota estate. He could have thrown up his hands and informed her that Caleb’s running away was hardly his concern. He could have done so many things other than what he had done—shown her kindness. And yet the way he had strutted about just now as if he owned everything within his view—which, of course, he did—nevertheless irritated her. And there was another cause for prayer. She sometimes suffered from a lack of patience when it came to the quirks of others. Her mother had often suggested that she look on the qualities of others that frustrated her as habits beyond their control. Such people were to be pitied, not scolded, she had advised. But her mother had never met Levi Harmon who did not inspire pity on any level.

She turned the engraved silver knob of the room she was to share with Pleasant and found her sister-in-law staggering about the cabin bumping up against the furnishings as the train rocked from side to side, and yet clearly reluctant to touch anything. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut, fingers knitted together as she murmured prayers in the dialect of Swiss-German they always used in private. She was earnestly beseeching God’s mercy and deliverance from this place that was surely the devil’s own workshop.

“Pleasant?” Hannah caught her sister-in-law as the train rounded a curve. Although the woman was three years younger than Hannah’s age of thirty-two, she looked older. Her face was lined with anxiety. “It’s all going to work out,” Hannah assured her in their native tongue as she led her to the upholstered bench that was bolted to the floor in front of the dressing table.

They sat together with their backs to the mirror and the array of bottles and jars that filled the insets on top of the ornately curved dressing table. Hannah kept her arm around Pleasant’s shoulders as they rocked in rhythm to the train’s movement. “I spoke with Mr. Harmon. He’s going to do his best to see that we are more comfortable.”

“So much temptation,” Pleasant muttered, glancing about with wild-eyed worry.

“Not if we refuse to be drawn to it,” Hannah said.

There was a soft knock at the door and Hannah got up to answer it.

“Oh, miss,” a young woman in a starched uniform exclaimed. “I thought you would be at supper and Hans said that I should…” She clutched a large bundle of plain linens to her chest.

“Let me take those,” Hannah urged, reverting to English. She engaged in the brief tug-of-war it took to persuade the woman to release them. “These will do just fine. Please thank Mr. Winters for us and thank you, as well. I’ll get started and while we’re at supper you can finish, all right?”

The maid nodded then bowed her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. Hannah immediately began covering the large full-length mirror with one of the sheets. As if in a trance, Pleasant got up and unfolded another cloth to drape over the dressing table. “I suppose we could use the bench,” she said, speaking German once again and looking to Hannah for approval.

“Absolutely,” Hannah agreed as she covered the seat’s tufted satin with a plain muslin pillow case. “We’ll leave these for the maid,” she decided as she knelt on the sofa and pulled down the upper berth. It was made up with satin linens and a silk coverlet and Hannah suspected the sofa bed was similarly garbed.

To her surprise, Pleasant giggled. “The maid,” she exclaimed with glee.

Hannah saw her point. For two Amish women to be discussing what they could leave for the maid to finish was ludicrous. She started to laugh and soon the two of them were toppled on to the sofa holding their sides as their giggles subsided and then started all over again.

A knock at the door finally sobered them.

“Daughters?”

“Yes, Father,” Pleasant replied as both women sprang to their feet and Hannah smoothed the covers.

“Mr. Winters tells me that supper is served.”

Hannah glanced up at the taller, thinner Pleasant and straightened her sister-in-law’s prayer cap that had slipped sideways when they lay on the bed. Pleasant cupped her cheek and within the look the two women exchanged more tenderness and sisterly concern than either had felt for the other in all the years Hannah had been married to Pleasant’s brother. “Coming,” they answered in unison.

Levi’s idea of a simple supper was a three-course meal as opposed to the five-course meal his staff would normally serve. He surveyed the cold cuts, the potato salad, the dark rye bread sliced into thick wedges waiting on the sideboard. They would begin the meal with barley soup and end it with one of his cook’s delicious key lime pies. It was the last of those he would enjoy for some time, Levi suspected as he turned to see that Hans was preparing to pour a dark lager into tall glasses.

“Our guests do not indulge,” he said.

“But they are of German descent. I thought that this particular lager would…”

Levi shrugged. “Start with water and offer tea or milk.”

Hans hesitated. “For you, as well, sir?”

“Yes.” 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 running away must have had on his grandmother?

“Now that you’ve told me of your bakery, Mr. Goodloe. I’d be curious to have your opinion of my cook’s key lime pie. Would you be so kind as to try it?”

“My daughter is the baker, sir.”

Pleasant’s cheeks flamed a ruddy brick red as Levi signaled Hans to clear and serve. “And you, Mrs. Goodloe? Do you also contribute to the wares available at your father-in-law’s bakery?”

“My daughter-in-law handles the housework for our family,” Gunther replied before Hannah could open her mouth. “She is an excellent cook and has been a good influence on my younger daughters.”

Levi noticed that Pleasant’s scowl deepened. “You have sisters then, Miss Goodloe?”

“Half sisters,” she corrected, but said no more.

“Pleasant’s mother died when Pleasant was just coming of age. After a time, I remarried so that she would have a mother.”

“And these other daughters are the product of that marriage?”

“Ja.”

“So they have stayed at home with their mother?” Gathering information from these people was like organizing a menagerie into a parade.

“Sadly, their mother died in childbirth.”

“I am doubly sorry for your losses, sir,” Levi said.

Gunther smiled at Hannah. “Our Hannah has become like a mother to my younger girls,” he said. “God has blessed us.”

“I see.” Levi would hardly have called the loss of two wives and Hannah’s husband a blessing, but he knew better than to debate the point.

“We have indeed been blessed. I only hope God sees fit to bless us yet again by leading us to Caleb,” Hannah said in a barely audible voice.

Levi hadn’t realized that he had continued to study Hannah far beyond the casual glance her comment might have indicated until Gunther cleared his throat and made a show of tasting his first bite of the pie. The two women followed his lead and all three smiled at Levi as if they had just tasted the best key lime pie ever made.

But Levi had turned his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Here was Gunther, an experienced entrepreneur in his own right, and while Levi did not hold with divine intervention, he had to admit that Gunther had come along at a time when he could use the opinion of a fellow businessman. He needed someone he could trust, someone who had no interest in his business, to review the ledgers for the past season. A fresh set of eyes. But he dismissed the idea as ludicrous. How would an unschooled, Amish baker possibly find what he had not been able to uncover himself?

He looked up and realized that once again Gunther had laid his napkin aside and this time he was standing. The two women had followed suit. Levi scrambled to his feet. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’m afraid that at about this time of night my mind often goes to the business of the day past and that to come tomorrow.”

“You are worried?” Gunther’s eyes narrowed in sympathy.

Levi shrugged. “Always. A great many people rely on me, sir.”

“And who do you rely on, Levi Harmon?”

The older man’s pale blue eyes were kind and concerned. It struck Levi that if his father had lived, he would be about the same age as this man was now. He felt his throat tighten with the bile of loneliness that he had carried with him from the day his parents had died. Instead of responding to Gunther’s question, he motioned for Hans to join them.

“Hans, I believe our guests are ready to retire for the night. Will you show Mr. Goodloe to your quarters?”

“If you don’t mind,” Gunther added, directing his comment to Hans.

“Not at all, sir. I took the liberty of moving your belongings to my cabin while you were enjoying your supper.”

“Then we’ll say good night.” Gunther waited while the two women nodded to Levi and Hans and walked down the corridor to the guest room. Then he clasped Levi’s shoulder. “May God be with you, Levi Harmon.”

And as he watched Hans lead the older man to the plainer quarters, Levi understood that Gunther had not missed the fact that Levi had avoided answering his question. The fact was Levi had no response, for since he’d been a boy, there had been no one to watch over him.

Chapter Four

Hannah found sleep impossible that night. Her mind reeled. Where was her son and had he indeed run off with the circus, or was she on some wild goose chase while Caleb was out there somewhere alone? Every clack of the wheels might be taking her farther from him.

She sat on the edge of the upper berth that she’d insisted on taking. Below her, Pleasant’s even breathing seemed to have fallen into a rhythm that matched the rumble of the train. Outside the window, Hannah saw the silhouette of telephone poles standing like sentinels in the fields. As the train rounded a bend, the noise flushed a flock of large blackbirds and they scattered into the night sky. The window faced east and she could see the breaking of dawn on the horizon.

“Please keep him safe until I can come for him,” she prayed as she watched the sky turn from black to charcoal and then pink. “He is my life,” she added and closed her eyes tight against the memory of the long, lonely years that had passed since her husband’s death. Years when her only solace had been Caleb.

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps she and others had put so much pressure on him in the absence of his father. How often had she heard someone remind him that he was now the man of the family? How often had someone suggested that she needed his support and help more than ever because all she had was him? Perhaps his need for freedom wasn’t that at all. Perhaps it was more a need to be what he was—a boy. A child.

Oh, how she wished she might talk to someone—a male who might understand the workings of a young boy’s mind. Perhaps Mr. Winters, she thought.

Outside the cabin door she heard footsteps. Given the early hour, she assumed it would be Hans Winters, up before dawn to see to the needs of his master and the guests. She eased herself down from the upper berth, taking care not to wake Pleasant and got dressed as quickly as she could, given the need to fumble blindly for the black straight pins that held the skirt and bodice of her dress in place. Once properly dressed, she wrapped her hair—grown now to past her waist—round and round her hand and coiled it into the casing of her prayer cap.

When she slipped into the passageway, she paused for a moment listening for sounds. That way led to Hans’s quarters and the kitchen. The opposite way led to the observation room and dining room. She heard the clink of silver and assumed Hans would be setting the dining table for their breakfast.

“May I help you?” she asked as she entered the opulent room. It would be the perfect opportunity to engage the servant in conversation. The two of them working together to prepare the room for breakfast.

But instead of Hans, she found herself facing Levi. He was sitting at a small drop-down desk on one side of the large sideboard, stirring a cup of coffee. “Not unless you’ve a head for figures,” he grumbled.

Actually, I do, Hannah thought but understood instinctively that the circus owner would no doubt laugh at the very idea that she might be able to solve whatever problem that he clearly could not. Still, if the idea brought a smile to his face that would certainly be preferable to the scowl that darkened his deep-set eyes at the moment. “I apologize,” she murmured, turning to go. “I assumed that Mr. Winters…”

“Kitchen,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to the ledger before him.

The table was already set so she turned to go. But she had retreated only two steps before he stopped her. “I’m sorry. Is there a problem, Hannah?”

“Not at all,” she said brightly.

“You slept well?” He seemed to be studying her features closely.

“Not really,” she admitted, knowing that her face surely showed the effects of her restless night. “But it was not the accommodations,” she hastened to assure him. “The berth was quite comfortable and the rhythm of the train’s movement was a little like rocking a child.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Upper or lower?”

“Upper,” she replied and felt her cheeks flush at the impropriety of this particular topic. “Well, I’ll leave you to your work,” she said.

“Why were you looking for Hans? It’s not yet dawn and if there’s no problem with your accommodations.…”

She took a moment to consider her options. Levi was a man—younger than Hans and perhaps more likely to remember what it had been like to be a boy of eleven. “I am worried about my son,” she admitted.

“If he took off with my crew, Hannah, we will find him and until we do, I assure you that he is in good company. No harm will come to him.”

“But what if he didn’t? What if he just ran away? What if he got to the circus grounds too late and your company had already left and he just decided to go off on his own?” The thoughts that she had successfully held at bay through the long night now came tumbling out. “What if even now with every mile we go I am moving farther and farther from him? Perhaps I was too hasty in my assumption. Perhaps I should…”

Levi pushed the ledger aside and indicated that she should take a seat on the end of the tufted settee closest to the dining chair he had pulled over to the desk. “It seems to me that you have ample reason to believe that your son is with my company. From what you have told me, the boy is a planner and as such he would have timed his departure so that he did not run the risk of missing the train.”

“But…”

“And even if he did miss it, we are going to know that within a matter of hours. We are scheduled to arrive in Jonesville just after breakfast. The company will be doing two shows there today—a matinee and an evening performance. If Caleb is with them we will find him.”

“And if not?”

“Then I will see that you and your family are on the next train back to Sarasota and I will personally notify the authorities there to begin the search for your son. One step at a time, Hannah.” He stood up and poured a second cup of coffee from the silver coffeepot on the sideboard and handed it to her. “Drink this,” he said. “You’re running on nerves and you’re going to need your strength for the day ahead, whatever it may bring.”

“Thank you,” she murmured as she took a sip of the hot strong brew. “You’ve been more than kind to us. I assure you that we’ll be out of your way soon.” She took a second sip. “Do you recall—I mean, Caleb is a boy of eleven and he’s had so much responsibility thrust upon him since the death of his father. It occurred to me that this business isn’t really about joining the circus at all.”

“It’s about finding his way,” Levi said. “Testing himself—and you.”

“In what way is he testing me?”

Levi shrugged. “He may not realize it but he wants to see if you will come after him and, if you do, whether or not things will be different for the two of you once you find him.”

“I love him,” Hannah whispered and her voice quaked.

“Enough to one day let him go?”

“He’s eleven,” she protested.

“I said one day, Hannah. Don’t make the mistake of making this boy your reason for living. Don’t try to mold him into some kind of replacement for the life you thought you would have with your husband.”

“I wouldn’t. I don’t,” she said firmly and stood up. Flustered with irritation at his assumption that he knew anything at all about her or her life, she started to hand him the coffee cup then thought better of it and placed the cup and saucer on the silver tray that held the coffee service on the sideboard. “Thank you for the coffee,” she said. “I expect Pleasant will be awake by now—she’s used to rising early for the baking.…” She started toward the passageway just as the train lurched around a curve.

Surefooted as a tiger, he steadied her before she could fall, his hands grasping her upper arms and remaining there until she regained her balance.

“Thank you,” she whispered and pulled away.

Levi stood watching her hurry along the corridor that ran the length of his private car. It wasn’t until she opened the door to her cabin and disappeared that he realized he’d been holding his breath and clenching his fists as if somehow that might keep the warmth of touching her from running away as she had.

“It’s not the same,” he muttered as he turned back to the desk, slammed shut the ledger and then retrieved his suit jacket from the back of the chair. But the picture of Hannah’s son striking out in the middle of the night, slipping away from the only house he’d probably ever known as home and heading off into the unknown stirred memories of Levi’s own youth that he had thought long since forgotten.

Suddenly, he recalled with graphic clarity the combination of fear and exhilaration he’d felt that night. Equally as strong came the memory of his doubt and regret after he’d been on the road for only a day. “It was different for me,” he muttered as he poured himself a second cup of coffee. “I was fourteen.”

He heard the sound of conversation in the passageway, drained his coffee and turned to face whatever this day might bring. Gunther Goodloe was speaking in low tones in his native tongue as he led Hannah and Pleasant to the dining room.

“Good morning, Mr. Goodloe. I trust your accommodations were satisfactory?”

“Yes, thank you for allowing the change.” He indicated that the two women should take the places on the settee where they had sat for supper the evening before.

“Please take my place, sir,” Levi urged, holding out the chair for the older man. “You’ll have a better view of the passing scenery from here,” he added, knowing full well that he had decided upon the change in seating abruptly so that he would not have to touch Hannah again during morning prayers.

On cue Hans appeared with a tea cart loaded with covered sterling serving dishes. He lifted the cover on the first and offered a selection of sausages and bacon to the two women, then Mr. Goodloe and finally Levi. He repeated this process with a chafing dish filled with steaming scrambled eggs, then another with a selection of breads and rolls, and finally offered each guest butter and jam. Meanwhile, the maid traveling with them filled glasses with milk and offered coffee and tea.

Through all of this Levi kept up a running conversation about the countryside they were traversing. “I’m afraid the boom times ended for Florida after the hurricane of ’26,” he said.

“And yet your business seems to be thriving,” Gunther replied.

“Even in hard times people need to be entertained,” Levi replied. “Perhaps especially in hard times.” Knowing it was inevitable, Levi extended his hands to Pleasant and Gunther. “Shall we pray?”

It took a moment before he realized that because he had extended the invitation, the others were waiting for him to bow his head. Forgetting that Amish grace was said in silence, he cleared his throat and murmured thanks for the food and the company and then added, “And may today bring Hannah the news she needs to know that her son is safe. Amen.”

When he looked up he was surprised to see Gunther frowning and Hannah blushing. For her part, Pleasant had focused all of her attention on the food before her and he couldn’t help but wonder what law of propriety he had just broken. Was it the prayer? He hadn’t prayed in years and yet thought he had done a passable job of offering grace before a meal. And then he understood his mistake. It was bad enough that he had offered the prayer aloud, but he had also singled Hannah out for special attention and called her by her given name.

“I apologize, sir,” he said, refusing to ignore the situation. “It’s just that we are all concerned about your grandson and I suppose that has made me feel a particular closeness to your family. Nevertheless, I was too familiar just now. I hope you will forgive my lapse in manners.”

“Not at all,” Gunther replied. “We are in your world now. I am honored that you have shown such concern for my grandson’s well-being. If you are more comfortable calling us by our given names, then that’s the least we can do.” He drank a long swallow of his milk. “I have noticed that Mr. Winters is distinctly uncomfortable with such formality,” he added.

“You are very observant, sir. And very kind.”

He saw that Gunther took the compliment in stride without acknowledging it. Instead, he evidently decided that a fresh round of introductions was in order. “And so we are the Goodloe family. I am Gunther and my daughter is Pleasant and as you have observed, Caleb’s mother is Hannah.”

“And I am Levi.” He shook hands with Gunther then smiled at Pleasant whose lips were pursed into a worried pucker as if unsure of what to make of all this. Finally, he looked at Hannah who met his gaze directly.

“And my son is Caleb,” she said softly. “And today, God willing, we shall find him and not trouble you further, Levi.”

As promised, they arrived in the small town of Jonesville an hour later. On the way into town the train slowed and then paused as Levi’s private car was moved to a siding next to a large field. From her position on the observation deck at the back of the car, Hannah could see dozens of workers, some hammering in the long stakes that would hold the huge circus tent in place. Other workers performed the same task as a dozen smaller tents went up on the property.

“That one is the cooking tent and next to it the dining tent,” Levi told them as Gunther, Pleasant and Hannah leaned out over the scrolled and turned-brass railing of the deck for a better view. “Wardrobe,” he continued, “dressing rooms, makeup, props.”

“It’s like a city in itself,” Hannah observed and she was beginning to understand how such activity might have captivated Caleb. “It’s so colorful and…”

“Exciting,” Pleasant whispered. Then she glanced at her father and added, “If you enjoy that sort of thing.”

“So many people,” Hannah said as she scanned the throng of workers for any sign of her son.

“We’ll find him,” Levi said quietly. Then in a more normal tone he added, “Care to watch the unloading of the wagons, Gunther? I promise you it’s worth every minute of your time.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting off this train and stretching my legs on firm ground a bit,” Gunther replied.

Levi opened the small gate that led to three steps and disembarked. From the ground he held out a hand to Pleasant. “Ladies,” he invited as he escorted them safely to the ground. Then he waited for Gunther to navigate the short flight of steps before beginning the tour.

“There are forty flatcars for transporting the wagons,” he said as he headed toward a siding where the line of cars with their cargo of painted and gilded circus wagons waited. “A wagon can weigh as much as six tons,” he added, and Hannah saw that her father-in-law was intrigued in spite of his reservations about coming too close to this outside world.

“You use Belgians to do the heavy work,” Gunther noted, nodding toward a matched pair of large black horses dragging a ramp into place at the end of one flatcar.

“Belgians, Percherons, Clydesdales,” Levi replied. “They serve double duty as both work horses and performance animals. But the men will handle the actual work of taking the wagons off the flatcars.”

The four of them watched in silence as the work crew set a ramp in place at one end of the flatcar. Then a crew member took hold of the wagon’s tongue and carefully steered the wagon toward the ramp.

“This is where things get tricky,” Levi said. “If he loses control and the wagon starts to roll too quickly then we risk injuring a worker. So that man there—a ‘snubber’—will control the speed using that network of ropes and capstans.”

Hannah held her breath as the unwieldy wagon gained speed and threatened to topple over on its way down the ramp. Safely on the ground another member of the crew hitched it to the team of horses, climbed aboard and drove it across the lot. Then the process began all over again.

“It’s a lot of work,” Gunther observed.

“Especially when you realize that after tonight’s performance we’ll simply reverse the process and move on to the next town.”

“Are those the tents for housing the animals?” Hannah asked, recalling the notice for a stable boy that she and Caleb had seen on the grounds in Sarasota.

“Yes. Gunther, why don’t you and Pleasant go over there to the dining and cook tents and see if there’s any sign of the boy while Hannah and I check out the animal tents?”

Before Gunther could object, Levi had started off toward a large tent where Hannah could see horses and elephants stabled. Without a backward look she followed him.

While Levi spoke with the men working the area, she searched for Caleb. Methodically, she checked every stall and gently prodded every pile of hay that looked bulky enough for a boy to be hiding under with the toe of her shoe. Nothing.

She had searched the large open-aired tent from one end to the other and found no sign of her son. Now she stood at the entrance to the tent looking out across the circus grounds, wondering where he might be and praying that she had not made a mistake in guessing that he had left with the circus.

“Mrs. Goodloe?”

She turned at the sound of Levi’s call. He was walking toward her with another man. The sun was behind them, streaming in from the far end of the tent and both men were in silhouette, and yet there was something about Levi’s confident stride that made her know him at once. The other man was a stranger. She focused on Levi, willing him to break free of the shadows and give her the news she’d prayed to hear—that Caleb had been found.

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