He shook his head. “Now, Barbara, you know that’s not possible, so you may as well accept the changes as they come.”
She released a sigh. “I can accept some changes, but others aren’t so easy.”
“Are you thinking of anything in particular?”
“Jah. I was thinking about my old friend Faith. This morning as I was looking through the bottom drawer of my dresser, I came across a handkerchief Faith had given me on my twelfth birthday. The sight of it made me feel kind of sad.” Barbara blinked a couple of times as the remembrance of her friend saying good-bye washed over her like a harsh, stinging rain. “I haven’t heard from Faith in a good many years, but I still remember to pray for her every day.”
David reached for Barbara’s hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Prayer is the key to each new day and the lock for every night, jah?”
“That’s right, and I’ll keep praying for my friend whether I hear from her again or not.”
David smiled. “I feel blessed to have married someone as caring as you.”
Barbara leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m the one who’s been blessed, husband.”
Faith felt as fidgety as a bumblebee on a hot summer day. She hadn’t been this nervous since the first time she had performed one of her comedy routines in front of a bunch of strangers. She and Melinda sat in the back of her parents’ open buggy, along with young Susie. Faith’s sisters, Grace Ann and Esther, had ridden to church with their brothers John and Brian.
Faith reached up and touched her head covering to be sure it was firmly in place. She’d been in such a hurry this morning, having to get herself dressed in one of Grace Ann’s plain dresses and Melinda in one of Susie’s, that she hadn’t taken the time to do up her hair properly. Rather than being parted down the middle, twisted, and pulled back in a bun, she’d brushed her hair straight back and quickly secured it in a bun, then hurried downstairs to help with breakfast. She would be meeting others in their congregation today, not to mention facing Bishop Martin again.
Thinking about the bishop caused Faith to reflect on her conversation with him. She’d left the bishop, as well as her family, with the impression that she had come home to stay and had given no hint that she planned to go back to her life as an entertainer.
You won’t have your daughter with you, her conscience reminded. Can you ever be truly happy without Melinda? Faith shook her head as though the action might clear away the troubling thoughts. She wouldn’t think about that now. She would deal with leaving Melinda when the time came. For now, Faith’s only need was to make everyone in her Amish community believe she had come home to stay.
Soon they were pulling into the Troyers’ yard, and Faith looked around in amazement. Isaac Troyer’s house and barn were enormous, and a huge herd of dairy cows grazed in the pasture nearby. Papa had mentioned something about the Troyers’ dairy farm doing well, but she’d had no idea it would be so big.
Faith let her mind wander back to the days when she had attended the one-room schoolhouse not far down the road. Isaac Troyer, her brother John, and Noah Hertzler had all been friends. She remembered Noah as being the shy one of the group. Faith could still see his face turning as red as a radish over something one of the scholars at school had said. He’d hardly spoken more than a few words, and then it was only if someone talked to him first. Noah hadn’t been outspoken or full of wisecracks the way Faith had always been, that was for sure. She would have to watch her mouth now that she was back at home. Her jokes and fooling around wouldn’t be appreciated.
I wonder if Noah’s still around, and if so, is the poor man as shy as he used to be?
“You getting out or what?”
Faith jerked her head at the sound of her father’s deep voice. He leaned against the buggy, his dark eyes looking ever so serious. He was a hard worker, and he could be equally hard when it came to his family. As a little girl, Faith had always been a bit afraid of him. She wasn’t sure if it was his booming voice or his penetrating eyes. One thing for sure, Faith knew Papa would take no guff from any of his children. The way he looked at her right now made her wonder if he could tell what was on her mind. Did he know how much she dreaded going to church?
Faith stepped down from the buggy and turned to help Melinda and Susie out. Chattering like magpies, the little girls ran toward the Troyers’ house. Faith was left to walk alone, and as she headed toward the Troyers’ house, she shuddered, overcome by the feeling that she was marching into a den of hungry lions. What if she and Melinda weren’t accepted? What if either one of them said or did something wrong today?
Faith drew in a deep breath and glanced down at her unadorned, dark green dress. It felt strange to be wearing Plain clothes again, and she wondered if she looked as phony on the outside as she was on the inside. Melinda hadn’t seemed to mind putting on one of her aunt Susie’s simple dresses. She’d even made some comment about it being fun to play dress-up.
Oh, to be young again. I hope Melinda keeps her cheerful attitude in the days ahead. Faith kept her gaze downward, being mindful of the uneven ground and sharp stones in the Troyers’ driveway. She had taken only a few steps when she bumped into someone. Lifting her head, Faith found herself staring into a pair of brown eyes that were so dark they almost looked black. She shifted her body quickly to the right, but the man with thick chestnutbrown hair moved to his left at the same time. With a nervous laugh, she swung to the left, just as he transferred his body to the right.
“Sorry. We seem to be going the same way,” he mumbled. There was a small scar in the middle of his chin, and for a moment, Faith thought she recognized him. Noah Hertzler had been left with that kind of a scar from a fall on the school playground many years ago. But this mature-looking man couldn’t be the same scrawny boy who had fallen from the swings.
“I—I don’t believe we’ve met,” the man said. “My name’s Noah Hertzler.”
“I’m Faith Andrews. . .used to be Stutzman.”
Noah’s jaw dropped open, and at the same time, Faith felt as if the air had been sucked from her lungs. The man who stood before her was no longer the red-faced kid afraid of his own shadow, but a tall, muscular fellow who was looking at her in a most peculiar way.
“Faith Andrews, the comedian who can yodel?” he asked, lifting his dark eyebrows in obvious surprise.
She nodded and tucked a stray hair behind one ear. “One and the same.”
Chapter 5
Noah could hardly believe Faith Stutzman, rebellious Amish teenager turned comedian, was standing in front of him dressed like all the other Plain women who had come to church this morning. Only Faith was different. Not only had her last name changed, but she didn’t have the same humble, submissive appearance most Amish women had. Her eyes were the clearest blue, like fresh water flowing from a mountain stream. There was something about the way those eyes flashed—the way she held her head. She seemed proud and maybe a bit defiant.
“What are you doing here?”
“You know about me being a comedian?”
They’d spoken at the same time, and Noah chuckled, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood his cheeks. He hated how easily he blushed. “You go first.”
She lifted her chin. “No, you.”
Noah acceded to her request. “I–I’m surprised to see you. How long have you been home?”
“We arrived yesterday afternoon.”
“We?” Noah glanced around, thinking maybe Faith had a husband who had accompanied her.
“My daughter, Melinda, is with me,” Faith explained. “My husband died six months ago.”
Noah sucked in his breath as he allowed himself to feel her pain. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She stared down at her black shoes. “Thank you.”
He wouldn’t press her for details. Maybe another time—when they got to know each other better. “It’s your turn now,” he said quietly.
Her head came up. “Huh?”
“You started
to ask a question a few minutes ago. About me knowing you were a comedian.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m surprised you knew. I obviously didn’t become a professional entertainer while I was still Amish.” Faith pursed her perfectly shaped lips, and he forced himself not to stare at them. “I didn’t figure you would know about my new profession.”
“My boss is an English man. He often plays tapes, or we listen to his portable radio while we work, and I heard an interview you did on the air once.” Noah paused. “You yodeled a bit and told a few jokes, too.”
She tipped her head to one side. “And you lived to tell about it?”
He nodded. “As I remember, the jokes you told were real funny.”
“You really think so?”
“Sure. When I was a boy and came over to your place to spend time with John, your silliness and joke telling used to crack me up.”
Faith stared up at him. “Really? You never said anything.”
He kicked at the small stones beneath his feet. “I was kind of shy and awkward back then, and I guess I still am sometimes.”
“Do you really believe I have a talent to make people laugh?” she asked, making no comment about his shyness.
“Jah, sure.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So. . .uh. . .what brought you back to Webster County?”
She stood straighter, pushing her shoulders back. “I’ve returned to my birthplace so my daughter can have a real home.”
“Not because you missed your family and friends?”
She shrugged. “Sure, that, too.”
Noah had a feeling Faith wasn’t being completely honest with him. Her tone of voice told him she might be hiding something. He didn’t think now was the time or place to be asking her a bunch of personal questions, though. Maybe he would have that chance later on. He glanced around and noticed his friend Isaac watching him from near the barn. Noah figured Isaac would probably expect him to give a full account of all he and Faith had said to each other.
“I’d better go since church will be starting soon. It’s. . .uh. . . nice to see you again,” Noah said. “I hope it works out for you and your daughter.”
“Things are a little strained for us right now. It’s going to be a difficult adjustment, I’m sure.”
“Soon it will go better.”
“I hope so.”
Faith walked off toward the house, and Noah headed over to see Isaac. He knew if he didn’t, the nosy fellow would most likely seek him out.
“Who was that woman you were talking to?” Isaac asked as soon as Noah stepped up beside him. “You two looked pretty cozylike, but I didn’t recognize her.”
“It was Faith Stutzman, and we weren’t being cozy.”
Isaac’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Faith Stutzman? Menno and Wilma’s wayward daughter?”
“Jah. Her husband died awhile ago, and she and her daughter have moved back home. Her last name’s Andrews now.”
Isaac reached up to scratch the back of his head. In the process, he nearly knocked his black felt hat to the ground, but he righted it in time. “So how’d you happen to strike up a conversation with her?”
“We sort of bumped into each other.”
“Did you get all tongue-tied and turn red in the face?”
Noah clenched his teeth. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t feel quite as nervous or shy in Faith’s presence as I usually do when I’m talking to a young, single woman.”
“Right. And pigs can fly,” Isaac said with a snicker. He motioned toward the house, where several people were filing in through the open doorway. “Guess we’d better get in there now.”
As Noah and his friend moved toward the house, Noah made a decision. He knew now who should get that lemon sponge cake he had brought today. The scripture verse he’d attached was about having faith in God, so it seemed appropriate to give it to a woman whose name was Faith. It would be like a welcome-home gift to someone who reminded him of the prodigal son in the Bible.
As Wilma approached a group of women who had gathered outside the Troyers’ home to visit, she glanced across the yard and noticed Faith standing under a leafy maple tree by herself. Faith’s arms were folded, her shoulders were slumped, and she stared at the ground as though she might be looking at something.
There’s no mistaking it, Wilma thought ruefully. My daughter isn’t happy about being here today. Is it because she doesn’t want to be home, or could she be feeling nervous about seeing all the people from our community and having to explain why she’s come back to Webster County with her daughter?
“I hear your oldest daughter has come home,” Annie Yoder, one of the minister’s wives, said as she stepped up to Wilma.
Wilma nodded, realizing how fast the news of Faith’s arrival must have traveled. Maybe Bishop Martin had spread the news as he’d gone from house to house last night, letting everyone know about the change in plans concerning where church would be held today. “Yesterday evening, Faith arrived home with her daughter, Melinda,” Wilma said, trying to make her voice sound casual.
“Is she here for a visit, or is she planning to stay?”
“Her husband recently died, and she says she’s home for good.” Even as the words slipped from Wilma’s tongue, she wondered if they were true. Did Faith plan to give up her modern ways and join the Amish church, or would she soon tire of things and head back on the road?
No matter how hard Faith tried, she couldn’t find a comfortable position. She’d forgotten how hard the backless wooden benches the people sat on during church could be. She glanced at Melinda, who sat on a bench beside Susie and some other young girls about their age. How well would her daughter manage during the long service, most of which was spoken in a language she couldn’t understand? Faith was glad she had thought to bring a basket filled with some snack foods along, in case her daughter got hungry.
As the service continued, Faith’s mind began to wander, taking her back in time, back to when she was a little girl trying not to fidget during one of the bishop’s long sermons, and she found herself becoming more restless. Every few minutes she glanced out the living-room window, wishing for the freedom to be outside where she could enjoy the pleasant summer day. She knew they would be going outdoors for their noon meal after the service, but that was still a ways off. Besides, she would be expected to help serve the men before she could relax and enjoy her meal.
Faith’s thoughts drove her on, down a not-so-pleasant memory lane. She had struggled on her own the first years after she’d left home and had ended up waiting tables and performing on a makeshift stage for a time. Then Greg had come along and swept Faith off her feet. He’d said she was talented and could go far in the world of entertainment. Greg’s whispered honeyed words and promises had been like music to her ears, and it hadn’t taken her long to succumb to his charms.
During the early years of their marriage, Faith had thought she was in love with Greg, and she’d believed the feeling was returned. Maybe it had been at first, but then Greg began to use her to gain riches. The more successful she became as an entertainer, the more of her money he spent on alcohol and gambling. She suspected he thought she didn’t know what he was up to, but Faith was no dummy. She knew exactly why Greg often sank into depression or became hostile toward her. Never Melinda, though. Thankfully, Greg had always been kind to their child.
Of course, he might not have remained docile toward Melinda if he had lived and kept on drinking the way he was, Faith reminded herself. If he could smack me around, then what’s to say he wouldn’t have eventually taken his frustrations out on our daughter?
“As many of you may already know, one of our own who has lived among the English for the last several years returned home yesterday. We welcome Faith Stutzman Andrews and her daughter, Melinda, to our worship service this morning.”
Faith sat up a bit straighter as Bishop Martin’s comment drove her thoughts aside. She glanced around the room, feeling an urgency to escape but knowing she cou
ldn’t. All eyes seemed to be focused on her. Many nodded their heads, some smiled, and others merely looked at her with curious stares. What were they thinking? Did everyone see her as a wayward woman who had come crawling home because she had no other place to go? Well, it was true in a sense. She had nowhere else to go. At least no place she wanted to take Melinda. If she had kept the child on the road with her, it would have been only a matter of time before her innocent daughter fell prey to some gold digger like her father had been. Faith desired better things for her little girl. She wanted Melinda to know that when she woke up every morning, there would be food on the table and a warm fire to greet her. She needed her precious child to go to bed at night feeling a sense of belonging and knowing she was nurtured and loved.
You had all those things when you were growing up, but you left them, the voice in her head reminded. Faith shook the thoughts aside as she forced herself to concentrate on the bishop’s closing prayer. Better to focus on his words than to think of all she’d given up when she left home. She hadn’t really wanted to leave, but she’d done it to prove to herself and to her family that she was her own person and had been blessed with a talent for yodeling and joke telling.
A rustle of skirts and the murmur of voices made Faith realize the service was over. She glanced around. Everyone was exiting the room.
Faith saw to it that Melinda was in Esther’s care, since she was also overseeing Susie. Then Faith excused herself to go to the kitchen, where several women and teenage girls scurried about, trying to get the meal served as quickly as possible.
“What can I do to help?” she asked her mother, who stood at the cupboard piling slices of bread onto a plate.
Before Mama could respond, Ellen Troyer spoke up. “Why don’t you help David Zook’s wife serve coffee to the menfolk out in the barn, where tables have been set up?” She handed Faith a pot of coffee. “It’s good to have you back among the people. You’ve been missed.”
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