Amish Romance: Faith's Story: Three Book Box Set

by Brenda Maxfield

  “Thank you, Faith,” Harmony said. She set the plates on the counter and one of the women began scraping the left-over bits of food into a bucket.

  “For the chickens,” said the woman, looking at Faith.

  “Oh,” Faith murmured.

  “How long do you plan to stay?” Harmony asked.

  “I don’t know.” Faith wanted to escape the place, feeling worn out from all the staring of the past hours. All she’d wanted was to feel part of them. She was half-Amish, after all.

  “Nancy must be right glad of your company,” said the third woman, who made no pretense of hiding her curiosity.

  Faith nodded. “I hope so.”

  “Odd we didn’t know about you,” the woman continued.

  Harmony tossed her a censuring look. “Go on out and enjoy the young people,” she said with a smile. “No need to be working your first time here.”

  “I don’t mind working,” Faith said. Her spirits had dropped significantly as the day had progressed.

  “Run along, now,” Harmony urged.

  Faith left them and went outside. The same boy was there, and he looked at her. She knew he had waited for her to come back outside.

  Where had she seen him?

  And then, she remembered. The first time she was in Landover Creek, when she’d been trying so hard to locate her mother. She’d taken a walk down the road, and he had been walking, too, but in the opposite direction. When they’d passed each other, Faith felt like she’d been shocked with an electrical wire. It was one of the strangest feelings she’d ever had. They hadn’t spoken. They hadn’t really even acknowledged each other. The entire experience had lasted maybe three seconds.

  Now, there he was again. And she’d had the same reaction as before.

  She averted her eyes from his and continued walking, going straight out to the row of buggies lining the yard. She stood among them, hidden from curious eyes. She wandered down the row, her fingers gently touching the backs of each wagon where the large red triangle road signs were mounted. Every year, there were accidents between buggies and cars. Every year, Amish folk were killed.

  Faith stood still, staring at one of the triangles. How odd it must be to ride in one of these closed buggies amidst whirring cars and trucks. Once she’d read that car drivers complained bitterly about having to share the road with Amish buggies. Faith pursed her lips. Why shouldn’t the Amish have the right to use the roads? There was no law against it. In fact, the Amish should complain about the Englisch drivers going too fast, driving carelessly…

  But they wouldn’t.

  “Hello.”

  Faith whirled around, and her heart raced when she saw who it was. He approached her, stopping a generous two yards away.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “We’ve seen each other before.” His voice was low and melodious, sounding older than he looked.

  “Yes.”

  “So, you remember, too?”

  “I remember.” She felt breathless.

  “I didn’t have any idea you were Nancy’s girl.”

  Faith nodded.

  “You have a story.”

  She blanched. She didn’t know this guy from Adam, and there he was talking about her story? How downright forward of the guy. And if there was one thing she’d learned, it was that the Amish weren’t forward.

  She gave him a blank look, having no idea how he expected her to respond.

  “A private story,” he stated, answering his own comment.

  She nodded.

  He shrugged. “No matter. My name is Peter. Peter Troyer.”

  “I’m Faith Baldwin.”

  “What did you think of our church service?”

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling. He probably didn’t want to know what she thought of it.

  “You’re laughing.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not laughing. Truly. I just can’t figure out how you manage to sit still for so long Sunday after Sunday.”

  “That’s why we only have services every other week,” he responded with a grin.

  “So that’s why,” she said, knowing full well it wasn’t why at all.

  He winked and chuckled. Winked? Faith had to force herself not to gape at him.

  “How long do you plan to stay?”

  Faith shook her head. “Do you know that everyone asks me that same question?”

  He held up his hand. “My apologies. I hardly want to be like everyone else. Hmm. All right. How about … are you enjoying the weather?”

  Faith burst into laughter. “The weather’s fine,” she said.

  What an interesting person. Winking and then claiming not to want to be like everyone else. From what she knew, individuality was hardly a cherished quality among the Amish. She tilted her head and gazed at his cheery expression and the way his deep eyes glittered in the sunlight.

  “Faith Baldwin, it was nice talking with you.”

  “Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  He touched the brim of his felt hat and turned and left. She stared after him, feeling almost enchanted. Peter Troyer. She put her finger to her lip and continued to stare after him, although he was long gone.

  Nancy sat in the wagon, holding her shoulders erect and keeping her pleasant expression glued in place. She was exhausted. And disturbed.

  Well, what had she expected? That she could suddenly present a long-lost daughter and no one would ask her a thing?

  Beside her, Abel appeared just as tired as she felt. He glanced her way, and she gave him a feeble smile.

  The women had descended upon her the minute she had stepped foot in the kitchen after the noon meal. She couldn’t blame them. But still, a spurt of resentment had grabbed hold of her. She’d swallowed it and answered their questions. She knew that keeping mum would do no good. It would only enflame the gossip, growing it until it took on a life of its own.

  So, she’d sat at the table and recounted her tale. Not everything. Not every detail. But enough so that her friends were satisfied. To their credit, they were sympathetic … after she assured them that she’d dealt with the local bishop in Hollybrook.

  “We extend mercy,” Harmony Gruber had said, placing her hand on Nancy’s shoulder.

  And with that, it was done. The redding up of the kitchen resumed, and Nancy pretended to feel like normal.

  But she didn’t feel normal at all.

  It was odd. Part of her was relieved beyond measure. It was out now. No more secrets. She and Faith could come and go as they pleased with no speculation. And if Faith wanted to stay indefinitely, it would help immeasurably to have the women’s support.

  The other part of her was proud. Which shocked her.

  How in the world could she be feeling proud after disclosing her own failure at purity? It made no sense whatsoever.

  She ignored the soft bickering of the children in the back of the wagon and stared off over the landscape. The corn was tall, much taller than she was. It would be harvest time soon, and then there would be no rest.

  But … proud? Of what?

  In the back, Faith said something to the children and they became quiet, their bickering stopped.

  Of Faith. That was it. She was proud of Faith.

  Nancy smiled and closed her eyes, letting the warm air caress her face. She was proud of Faith. She hadn’t had a hand in raising the girl, but she had given birth to her. And Faith was a fine girl. A good girl, as Mae had told her.

  Dear Gott, you have blessed me. Thank you for Faith. Thank you that she’s here. With me. With us.

  Chapter Six

  On Monday, after helping Nancy with the laundry, Faith drove into town to the public library. She felt funny driving away, using her car, but she had something she wanted to do. Once inside the towering building, she went straight to the computer area. She plugged in her phone to recharge it and then asked for a guest log-in on a computer.

  Once she was logged in, she brought up a search engine. Her fingers
trembled slightly as she typed in “Gregory Smith.” When the results popped up, her mouth dropped open. One hundred twenty million hits. She sank back in her chair. Oh, great. Who would have guessed so many men had that name? She added “& Indiana” to her search. That dropped it to just over eight million hits. She added “& Amish,” which brought it down to just over one million.

  She knew her birth father hadn’t been Amish, but he had lived close to them. She sat and thought. How else could she narrow her search? She added “Landover Creek.” That gave her only twenty-six thousand hits. Better. Much better.

  She moaned. Better? What was she thinking? Twenty-six thousand hits was hardly a handful that she could personally investigate. And Gregory Smith and his family had long since left the area.

  She stared at the screen. How badly did she want to meet her birth father? Was she now going to transfer her obsession with finding her birth mother to finding her birth father? Was she ever going to let herself rest?

  Wasn’t finding and knowing Nancy enough?

  She scrolled through some of the results and found nothing helpful. Some of the entries were obituaries, so she supposed that knocked them off the list.

  Her dad had offered to hire a private investigator to find her birth mother for her. Faith had turned him down, and now, considering how things had developed, she was glad she had. She wouldn’t trade her journey to finding Nancy for anything in the world.

  She glanced at her phone, feeling an overwhelming urge to call Seth. There weren’t many people in the computer area. If she spoke very quietly, she should be able to call him from there.

  She left the phone plugged in and pushed his number. He answered immediately.

  “Faith.”

  “Hi, Seth. I’m sitting in the public library.” She paused, and her throat suddenly filled with tears. She opened her mouth to say more, but she couldn’t. She was afraid she’d start crying out loud.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She still couldn’t speak. She pressed her hand over her mouth. Blubbering into the phone hadn’t been her plan. She didn’t even know why she was crying.

  “Faith? What’s the matter? Are you okay?” His voice deepened with concern.

  “I-I’m … okay,” she stammered.

  “Are you crying?”

  Faith pulled the charger from the plug and stood, hurrying from the computer area. Sitting there in the library bawling would be too humiliating. She rushed outside and sank onto a cement bench at the side of the building.

  “Are you still there?” Seth asked.

  “Yes. Yes.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “I guess I don’t.”

  “I’d hoped you’d call earlier. Did you go to church yesterday? How was it?”

  She pushed her hair from her forehead. “I went. It was long. Really long. Did you know they have two sermons?”

  “Two sermons? Whoa.” He went silent for a moment and then asked, “Faith, why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  “I just don’t. I was fine and then I called you and then I couldn’t stop crying. I’m better now. I’m not crying anymore.”

  “You’re at the library?”

  “Yeah. I had to charge my phone.” She wondered whether she should tell him more.

  “I see.”

  “And I wanted to search online for my father,” she blurted.

  “What?”

  “His name is Gregory Smith.”

  The line went quiet. Faith knew what he was thinking. He’d stood by her through all the emotional turmoil of finding Nancy. Surely, he was wondering if he’d have to do it all over again to find Gregory Smith.

  “Say something,” she whispered.

  A missed beat. Then, “What did you find?”

  “Thousands and thousands of hits.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” His voice was resigned.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “I can’t answer that for you, Faith. Only you can answer that.”

  Faith stared at a row of bushes that still blossomed, even so late in the season. The pale orange blooms spotted the plants like Christmas ornaments.

  “I’m tired.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want to search anymore.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “But he’s my birth father.”

  Seth inhaled loudly. “Faith, you’re not obligated.”

  “But he’s my birth father.”

  “Faith, you are not obligated,” he repeated.

  Faith let his words sink into her heart and mind. A bird flew overhead, swooping loops in the sky. She. Was. Not. Obligated.

  “I don’t want to search for him.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Something inside her broke loose. It was the strangest sensation, like a rubber band bursting free from where it had been wound tightly around her heart. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the late summer air. Relief flowed through her like a cool stream of water, and she closed her eyes with the current of it.

  “Faith?”

  “Mm hmm?”

  “You okay?”

  “I really don’t have to, do I?”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “Thank you.”

  She could hear him smiling. “You’re welcome.”

  “Seth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sometimes, I need you. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “That’s okay.” He gave a low resonant chuckle. “It’s more than okay.”

  “I’ll try to call you sooner next time.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “All right. But I think I should go now. Bye. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Faith stood and glanced back at the library. She’d left her search up on the computer screen, and she was still logged on. She hesitated for only a second. Then she turned, walked to her car, and drove off.

  Her mind was full as she made her way back through town. It wasn’t far to the Hershbergers, and she drove slowly to stretch the time. She felt at home there in Landover Creek in a deeper way than would be expected. Altogether, she’d probably spent less than two weeks there. She shouldn’t feel such a sense of belonging so quickly.

  Yet she did.

  She wondered if that meant she should stay.

  But how would that work? Could she stay with Nancy and the family? Abel wasn’t her relative. Could she possibly stay and, in a way, let him support her? That didn’t seem proper at all.

  She gripped the steering wheel more tightly. Wait. Wasn’t Abel her stepfather? He was married to her mother… Hmm. Her stepfather. But no, that didn’t seem right, either.

  Did she want to become Amish? Really, truly become Amish? What would that even mean to her?

  She couldn’t continue with Seth, then, could she? And her folks would probably be devastated.

  But there was part of her, a growing part of her, that was very interested indeed.

  “Ah, Faith, you’re back,” Nancy greeted her. She was oddly relieved to see her return. She realized that somewhere deep inside, she’d feared Faith would drive away and never come back. She shivered, telling herself to be reasonable.

  She put Miriam down on the floor, and the baby immediately plopped over and began crawling like she was in a race. Nancy laughed.

  “She’s getting awfully good at crawling,” Faith said.

  “Too gut,” Nancy agreed. “Soon, I won’t know where she is anymore.”

  Faith squatted down on the floor. “Miriam!”

  Miriam squirmed around and grinned, showing her two bottom teeth.

  Faith started crawling after her. “I’m gonna get you!” she cried. “Watch out! I’m gonna get you!”

  Nancy pressed her hands over her heart a
nd watched the two of them.

  That night, Nancy and Abel sat on the edge of their bed. Nancy reached up and massaged Abel’s back. “You’re tense,” she said.

  He rolled his shoulders. “Lots of work today.”

  Nancy bit her lip and then said, “Faith went into town.”

  “I saw her leave in the car.”

  “I don’t know what she was doing.”

  “Do you need to know?”

  Nancy shrugged. “I guess not.”

  “You don’t own the girl, Nancy.”

  Nancy balked. “I know that. But still, I was wondering.” She paused. “Abel? I want to ask her if she’d like to take instruction on becoming Amish.”

  Abel’s shoulders turned to brick. He twisted around and stared at her. “What?”

  Nancy pressed her mouth into a thin line.

  “Nancy, have you lost your reasoning?”

  “Nee. I haven’t lost my reasoning.” But she couldn’t meet his eyes.

  He stood and paced the rug.

  Nancy looked up at him. “Is it so unreasonable?”

  He stopped pacing. “Jah, it is. You’re asking the moon of the girl. Like I told you before, it ain’t fair.”

  “What isn’t fair about it?” Nancy’s spine stiffened. “If we’re talking about what’s unfair…” Her eyes went cold. “What’s unfair is that I’ve spent the last two decades without my daughter. What’s unfair is that she was stolen from me at birth. What’s unfair are the years of silence I’ve endured.” She took a gulping breath. She was spinning out of control, and she knew it. Would she never get over her loss? Never?

  Even though she knew Faith now? Even though Faith had found her?

  Her eyes pricked with tears. What exactly was she trying to fix? If Faith became Amish, would that make all the past fine? Would it redeem and rectify all her years of pain and anguish?

  Was she trying to push Faith into something for Faith’s sake or for hers? Was she trying to exonerate herself? Remake the past?

  Was that it?

  She dropped her head and let the tears fall. Abel knelt before her and took her hands in his. “Ach, Nancy. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”