He? Faith hurried after Katy. It had to be Seth. Who else would have followed her there? And what was he thinking?
She caught up to Katy and went into the big house through the side door. She rushed through the dining area into the front room, and there he was. She thought she’d be irritated to see him, but when she saw his dark eyes on her and the concern in his expression, Faith felt her entire being relax.
“Seth,” she said.
He stepped toward her and then hesitated. “Hello, Faith.”
Katy stood by, watching.
“Oh, Katy, this is my friend, Seth Jasper.”
Katy gave a shy smile.
“Nice to meet you,” Seth said, extending his hand.
Katy stared at his hand, and Seth quickly dropped it to his side.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Katy said. She looked at Faith and then disappeared into the kitchen.
“Want to come out to the porch?” Faith asked, wanting their conversation to be private.
Seth followed her outside, and they each sat in one of the available white rockers.
“You mad?” Seth asked her.
She shook her head. “No. But why are you here?”
Seth reached out and took her hand in his. “You had such a desperate tone in your voice,” he said. “I was worried. I took a day off work to come.”
Faith leaned forward, and her face was animated. “I’m going to find out who my mother is. There’s this woman here. I think she delivered me.” Her words came fast.
Seth dropped her hand and gaped at her. “No way.”
“I’m serious. I talked with her yesterday. I’m just waiting for her to come back. I think she’s going to tell me.”
“But why would you think that?”
“If you could have seen her face yesterday when I said my mother’s name is Nancy…” Faith relived the moment in her mind for the hundredth time. “Old Mae knows. I know she knows. And she knows that I know.”
Seth shook his head and focused intently on her. “You’re certain.”
Faith fell back in her chair and let out her breath in a contented sigh. “I’m sure.”
“Wow,” Seth said, his voice airy. “Wow.”
Faith rocked forward again in her chair. “Can you believe it? I’m going to know who I am!”
“Faith, you already know who you are.”
Faith went still, and her expression tightened.
“You do. You’re Faith Baldwin, a pretty, smart, kind person. Someone who likes to help people and has a strong faith.”
Faith stared at him. “You don’t get it.”
“But I think I do,” he insisted. “I just don’t like to hear you say that you don’t know who you are. I know who you are.”
Faith’s mind went foggy at his words. She looked at him blankly. Didn’t he understand her at all?
“Faith.” He grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry. I am. Tell me about the old woman.”
Faith pulled her hand from his grasp. “I’ve told you all I know.” She had a sudden urge for the conversation to be over. She had a sudden urge for Seth to get up and leave.
“Faith?”
“It’s a long drive home. Do you want to eat before you go?” Her voice had turned wooden. She heard it and cringed.
“You want me to leave?”
She didn’t respond.
“Faith! Please. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head slowly. “This is something I have to do for myself, by myself. I told you that from the beginning.”
His eyes were shadowed, and she could see the hurt she was inflicting.
“I only wanted to help. To be supportive.”
Her nostrils flared. “I know. And you have been. And I don’t want to be ungrateful. Thank you for coming.” She stared out across the yard.
“But Faith—”
“I know this seems strange to you. I’m sorry. But I’m close.” She glanced at him then and saw his hurt look. “I’m so close, Seth. I’m going to know my mother.”
He closed his mouth, and she saw the muscles around his jaw tighten.
She put her hand on his knee. “I need to know. I need to know everything. I’ve told you this so many times. And I’m Amish.”
He stiffened at that. “You’re not Amish, Faith. Your birth mother is. That’s an entirely different scenario.” He stood up, clearly agitated. “Are you going to join them then? Is that your plan? Are you not coming home?”
When she heard his questions scrape through the air between them, she realized that his suspicions were correct. Joining them was the desire in the deepest corners of her heart. She did want to be Amish. She wanted to stay with them. Absorb their faith and their culture. She was born Amish—so why shouldn’t she be Amish?
And then a sudden thought struck her. Who was her father? Was he Amish, too? A strange nausea ripped through her stomach. Why had she never wondered much about him? The thought of her birth father had passed across her thoughts now and again over the years, but never long enough for her to truly consider him. Was he Amish, too? Or was he fancy?
She gripped the arms of her chair and held on. Everything seemed to turn upside down right then, and if she wasn’t careful, she would fall right through the floor and deep into the dark earth.
Seth stood rigid and straight before her. “So, you’re asking me to leave then.” He said it more like a statement than a question.
She nodded, a numbness overtaking her. “I guess I am,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely audible.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and left her. And as if from some great distance, she heard his car speed off. An echoing silence filled the air until Faith slowly became aware of the birds singing in the large willow tree draped in front of the house.
Seth was angry.
She closed her eyes. She’d been rude. Bordering on mean.
An Amish person would have been kinder. Right? She stood up woodenly. She had no idea. No idea at all.
Faith turned off her phone. She told herself it was because she wanted to save the remaining battery power since there was no electricity to recharge it, but that wasn’t the whole truth at all. She wanted to be free of modern distractions. She wanted to live Amish. And having a cell phone tucked into her pocket simply wouldn’t do.
She sat numbly on her bed, staring at the wall.
She’d passed hours in a daze, waiting for Old Mae to return. She was certain the woman would come back. Perhaps she’d needed to check some written records or something. Or perhaps, she’d needed to contact Faith’s birth mother personally. Her heart flip flopped. What if her mother was there in Hollybrook? What then? She could be sitting across from her and speaking to her within hours. Hours!
Faith swallowed hard. Her throat tightened around a lump of tears, and she could hardly draw breath.
“Faith?” Katy called through the front room of the daadi haus.
Faith jumped off her bed and hurried out to her. “Yes?”
“Mamm wants to know if you’d like to come in and join us for supper.”
“Is it time already?”
“It’s just past six.”
“Okay.” She ran her hands over her jeans. “I would like to.”
“Come on, then. I made a pie for dinner.”
“Did you?” Faith only hoped her stomach would settle enough to eat something, anything.
“I love to bake. I hope you liked the muffin I gave you. Mamm says I should open a bakery when I’m grown. Mellie has a sweet shop. I can tell you where it is if you’d like to visit. She bakes real good. Maybe someday I can work with her.” Katy prattled on, but Faith hardly heard a word.
All she wanted was to ask Katy where Old Mae lived and to go over there and badger her. But she had to bide her time. Life in the Amish world didn’t go at the same speed as hers, and she needed to slow herself right down.
Supper was a simple affair with only Naomi, her husband Zachariah, Katy and her broth
er Ben in attendance. Evidently, the other guests were out and about. Faith was glad that the Kings asked very few questions of her. She didn’t want to be deceptive, but she certainly didn’t want to share her real reason for being there.
When the meal was over, Naomi stood. “Katy, come help with the clean-up.”
Faith stood and picked up her plate.
“Guests don’t got to help,” Ben chimed in.
“I don’t mind,” Faith said, carrying her plate into the kitchen. She noted the gas stove and a refrigerator which she assumed ran on gas, too. She loved the huge farm sink and the way Naomi had organized her open shelves with all sorts of cooking tools.
“I hope you have everything you need,” Naomi said, her voice soft and melodious.
“I do, thank you,” Faith responded.
“You really don’t have to help,” Katy said, taking her plate from her.
Faith got the distinct impression that she was being dismissed from the kitchen. She smiled and with regret and a feeling of sadness, left the room.
She went out to the front porch but found herself too restless to sit still. She jumped up and walked across the yard to the road. Perhaps a walk would calm her down. She headed north, ambling slowly as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Ahead, a young Amish man was coming her way. She didn’t want to stare, but his bearing was so confident and yet relaxed that she could hardly help herself.
But his eyes were averted from hers. She concentrated on the street in front of her, until the moment he passed. She glanced at him again, and for one electric moment, their eyes met. Her breath caught, and she ducked her head, concentrating on her feet again.
She didn’t walk much further after that. She felt completely disoriented. Completely out of her element.
Maybe Seth was right. She wasn’t anymore Amish than the road she walked on. She was being dramatic and foolish. Perhaps, she should simply find out who her birth mother was and then go back home. Home to her real mother. There was nothing to be gained from hanging around and trying to be someone she was not.
Tears burned beneath her eyelids as she headed back to the bed and breakfast. When she crossed the yard, she saw that someone had lit a lamp. It sat on the little round table on the porch, giving a wide circle of light. And then she gasped.
Old Mae was there. Sitting in a rocker like an aged queen on her throne. Faith started running then, nearly stumbling in her hurry to get to the porch.
“Mae!” she exclaimed in a rush. “You’re here.”
Mae gazed at her. “Sit down, child.”
Faith sank into a chair, not taking her eyes from Mae’s weathered face.
“You know, don’t you?” Faith said, her voice a whisper. “And you’ll tell me?”
Mae was rocking again, just as she had rocked earlier, heavy and steady. The chair gave out its rhythm of creaks as the runners made contact with the thick wood of the porch floor.
Faith held her breath.
“I called Landover Creek,” the old woman said.
Faith froze. Landover Creek? Her heart pounded wildly.
“Got little Abe at the phone shanty.” Old Mae chuckled then grew serious again. “He passed my message along. Then I had the call.”
Faith couldn’t move.
“Fact is, the bishop don’t like us using the phone for personal matters. It’s forbidden. But this seemed to be of rather different circumstances.”
Faith stared at her.
Mae looked directly into her eyes. “Some of your facts is wrong.”
“Which ones?” Faith choked out. “Her name? It isn’t Nancy? What? What did I get wrong?”
“I’m here because I can tell that you ain’t going to leave Hollybrook without a word from me. Well, here is my word.”
The earth became silent then. Nothing existed except the old woman sitting across from her.
“Your mother is alive. But she can’t see you. Can’t meet you—”
Faith gasped and a sharp penetrating pain shot through her heart. “No!”
Old Mae leaned forward and pressed her wizened hand over Faith’s. “I’m sorry, girl. Please, don’t fight it. You got life, don’t you? You’ve been happy. I can see that on your face.”
Tears were streaming down Faith’s cheeks now. “No,” she repeated miserably. “Please. I want to meet her.”
“She don’t want you poking your head around. This ain’t to be mean. You got to understand that. This ain’t to be mean.” The woman pressed her lips together and then, taking a long slow breath, she continued. “She asked that I tell you she didn’t have a choice.”
Faith shook her head. She couldn’t stop shaking her head. “No,” she whispered. “No.”
“It’s the right truth. She didn’t have no choice.” Old Mae got up then. “Aw, honey, I’m right sorry. I truly am.” Faith watched her through her tears. “But there ain’t nothing more I can say,” the old woman continued. “That is my word to you. You can go in peace now. Please, go in peace.”
With a hitch in her step, Mae climbed down the stairs and headed toward the barn, where a pony and cart were all hitched up. She climbed into the cart slowly and then slapped the reins over the pony’s back. Faith watched her go, feeling as if her entire world was leaving with the woman.
Go in peace? How in the world was she to go in peace? What kind of stupid advice was that?
My mother doesn’t want to meet me.
In all her imaginings, this wasn’t something Faith had feared. She had feared not finding her. She had feared that perhaps she was dead. But she had never feared that her mother wouldn’t want to meet her.
Faith curled into herself on the chair.
She covered her face with her hands and tried to quell her weeping. But the tears wouldn’t stop. She wanted Seth. She wanted her mom and dad. She wanted to go home. Home. Where she belonged.
But no. She couldn’t.
Landover Creek? She’d exhausted all the women named Nancy there. Was that what she’d gotten wrong? That her mother’s name wasn’t Nancy? Well, Faith would go back. She’d go right back to that town and find out who it was, and she wouldn’t leave until she did. Now, she had the place. Maybe Old Mae hadn’t given her the name, but she sure had given her the place.
Yes. That’s what she’d do. She’d throw her stuff in the car this very minute and head straight back to Landover Creek. She’d find the woman and force her, whoever she was, to acknowledge her daughter. Faith would not accept defeat.
She stood and stumbled down the steps and around back to the daadi haus. She hurried to her room and threw her suitcase on the bed. She went to the dresser and opened the drawer. And it was then that she collapsed on the floor, sobbing.
What was she thinking? The woman didn’t want to meet her. She hadn’t wanted her nineteen years ago, and she didn’t want her now. Faith buried her face in her hands, wailing for all she was worth. The pain of it was like a burning iron in her stomach. She curled up tighter on the floor.
No. No. No. No.
The woman didn’t want her. Did not want her.
Faith struggled up to a sitting position. She put her arms around herself and rocked back and forth. What was she thinking?
She couldn’t go back and force the woman. She couldn’t. Faith knew that much about herself. She wasn’t a cruel person. No, she wasn’t cruel. Going back and forcing the woman to acknowledge her long lost daughter could ruin the woman’s life.
Faith wouldn’t do that to her. She couldn’t.
It. Was. Over.
She crawled off the floor and onto her bed, shoving her suitcase aside. She lay there until her tears finally, finally stopped coming.
Completely spent, she dug her phone out from her bag. She turned it on and waited. When the screen came alive, she pushed Seth’s number.
“Seth?” She was surprised her voice even worked.
“Faith?” His voice was guarded.
“I’m coming home,” she choked out.
There was a long pause on the line. Faith worked to keep breathing. In out. In out. In out.
“You all right?” he asked.
“No. No, I’m not.” She sucked in her breath. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
“Oh, Faith…”
“She won’t see me.” Faith gripped the phone, as if hanging on to it would somehow keep her from sinking into a large black hole.
“Do you need me to come and get you? I could find a bus or something and then drive you home.”
“No. No.”
“Don’t leave tonight.”
“But—” That was exactly what she wanted to do. Leave immediately. She couldn’t bear the thought of one more minute in Amish country.
“No buts. Stay the night. You’re in no condition to drive. Leave in the morning. Promise me, Faith. I mean it. Promise me.”
“I-I promise,” she eked out and then she said good-bye. She fell over on the bed and pulled the quilt up around her, even though it was much too warm for it. She closed her eyes.
Her mother, her birth mother, didn’t want her. Another sob welled up in her throat until it exploded into a burst of crying that shook her entire body. She had thought there were no tears left, but she was wrong. She let them have their way with her until finally, completely spent, she got up and padded to the bathroom. She splashed cool water on her face and dried off with a white towel that smelled of the outdoors. Then she went back to her bedroom, lay down on top of the quilt this time, and closed her eyes.
She didn’t belong there. She wasn’t Amish at all.
Chapter Ten
Nancy hung up the phone and fell back against the shanty wall. The rough wood scratched her back through her dress, but she hardly felt it. Her throat closed up until she gasped for air.
My daughter is in Hollybrook? Looking for me?
Raw panic roared through her, and her knees buckled. She fell to the floor, panting, her cheek scraping the wall. She closed her eyes and moaned. Her daughter. Her daughter. Her dearly beloved first daughter.
How had she found out about Hollybrook? How had she found out anything? Her mother had told her that no one would ever know. No one. Least of all the baby she’d given away.
But Mae, the woman who’d helped her, had clearly said her daughter was there.
Amish Romance: Faith's Story: Three Book Box Set Page 7
