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Going Home Page 5

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  Nodding at Ellen, Faith accepted the coffeepot and turned and headed out the back door.

  When Faith entered the barn a few minutes later, she noticed a dark-haired woman serving coffee at one of the tables. That must be David Zook’s wife.

  She approached the woman, whose back was to her, and asked, “Which tables are yet to be served?”

  The woman turned around, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Ach, Faith! It was a surprise to see you in church, and I’m so glad you’re back home.”

  Faith squinted as she looked more closely at the woman. “Barbara? Barbara Raber?”

  “Jah, only it’s Zook now. I’ve been married to David for close to five years.” Barbara smiled, revealing two deep dimples in her round cheeks. “Remember David? He was a year ahead of us in school.”

  Faith wasn’t sure what to say. She and Barbara had been friends while growing up, but the truth was, she barely remembered a fellow named David Zook.

  “It–it’s nice to see you again.” Faith’s voice sounded formal and strained. She couldn’t help it; she felt formal and strained around everyone here today. Everyone except for Noah Hertzler. She’d actually enjoyed their brief conversation and had felt more at ease with him than she felt with Barbara right now. It made no sense. She hadn’t known Noah all that well when they were growing up, as he was four years younger than her. Noah had been John’s friend, not hers. He’d also been so shy back then that he hadn’t said more than a few words to anyone in their family except John. Today, however, Noah seemed easy to talk to, and there had only been a hint of shyness on his part.

  “Faith? Did you hear what I said?”

  Barbara’s soft-spoken voice and gentle nudge drove Faith’s thoughts aside.

  “What was that?”

  “I said I’m glad you’ve come home.”

  Faith nodded.

  “Now about the tables needing to be served—you can take those four.” Barbara motioned to the ones on her left.

  “Okay.” Faith moved away, thinking how much her friend had changed. Barbara Raber had been as slender as a reed when they were teenagers. Barbara Zook was slightly plump, especially around the middle. The mischief that could be seen in young Barbara’s eyes had been replaced with a look of peace and contentment. For that, Faith felt a twinge of envy. In all her twenty-eight years, she’d never known true peace or contentment. She had always wanted something she couldn’t have. Something more—something better.

  Faith avoided eye contact as she served the men, but as she poured coffee into the last cup at the table, she felt gentle but calloused fingers touch her arm. “Danki.”

  “You’re welcome,” she murmured, daring to seek out the man’s face. It was Noah Hertzler, and his tender expression was nearly her undoing.

  “I have something for you,” he said quietly. “It’s in the Troyers’ house.”

  She tipped her head in question. Why would Noah have anything for me? He hardly knows me, and I’m sure he didn’t know I would be here today.

  “Will you be heading back to the kitchen soon?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

  Faith nodded mutely and moved away. She walked back to the house a few minutes later, feeling like a marionette with no control over its movements.

  Relief swept over Faith when she stepped into the kitchen and realized that no one else was there. She figured the other women must have gone to the barn to eat their meal after the men were done.

  Faith pulled out one of the mismatched wooden chairs and sat down. When she placed her hands on the table, she noticed that they were shaking. What’s wrong with me? I’ve faced tougher crowds than the one here today and didn’t feel half as intimidated. I used to make an audience howl and beg for more, even when I was dying on the inside because of the way things were with Greg and me. Yet here, among my own people, I can barely crack a smile.

  Faith squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she remembered how to pray. If she could, she would ask God to calm her spirit.

  When the back door creaked open, Faith jumped. She turned her head to the right.

  Noah stood in the doorway with an easygoing grin on his face.

  She swallowed hard. What did he have for her? What did he want in return?

  Noah closed the door and strolled over to the cupboard across the room. He opened one of the doors and took out a cake carrier, which he set on the table in front of Faith. “This is for you.”

  “You’re giving me a whole cake?”

  Noah nodded. “It’s a lemon sponge cake, and I made it with the idea of giving it away today.”

  “Why me?”

  His face flooded with color. “Just call it a welcome-home gift.” He pushed the plastic container toward her. “Sure hope you like lemon.”

  She nodded. “It’s one of my favorite flavors.”

  “That’s good. I hope you’ll enjoy every bite, as well as the verse of scripture,” he said.

  Verse of scripture? Faith’s gaze went to the little card attached to the side of the pan, and her heart clenched. She would take the cake, but she had no desire to read the scripture.

  Chapter 6

  What have you got there?” Mama asked as Faith climbed down from the buggy behind Melinda and Susie.

  Faith looked down at the cake Noah had given her, hoping it hadn’t spoiled. She had placed a small bag of ice she’d found in the Troyers’ refrigerator on top of the plastic container, taken it out to the buggy earlier, and slipped it under the backseat. She still wondered why Noah had chosen her to be the recipient of his luscious-looking dessert.

  “Faith? Did you hear what I asked?”

  Clutching the cake in her hands, she faced her mother. “Uh. . .it’s a lemon sponge cake.”

  Mama’s eyebrows arched upward. “Where’d you get it?”

  Faith drew in a deep breath. She may as well get the inquisition over with, because she was sure her mother wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d heard all the details. “Noah Hertzler gave it to me.”

  Mama chuckled softly. “I thought as much. That young fellow is always handing out his baked goods to someone in our community. Ida Hertzler is one lucky mamm to have him for a son; he’s right handy in the kitchen.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Jah. From what Ida’s told me, Noah’s been helping out with the cooking and baking ever since he was a kinner.”

  Faith hadn’t known that. The only thing she knew about Noah was that he used to be shy and seemed to be kind of awkward.

  “Noah’s not married, you know,” Mama said as they headed for the house.

  Faith figured as much since she hadn’t seen him with a woman and he wasn’t wearing a beard, which meant he wasn’t married. It didn’t concern her, however, so she made no response to her mother’s comment.

  “Maybe after you’ve settled in here and have joined the church, you and Noah might hit it off.”

  Faith whirled around to face her mother. “Mama, Greg’s only been dead a short while. It wouldn’t be proper for me to think about another man right now, in case that’s what you’re insinuating.” She sniffed. “Besides, I’m not planning to remarry—ever.”

  Mama gave her a curious look, but Faith hurried to the house before the confused-looking woman could say anything more. She didn’t want to talk about her disastrous marriage to Greg or the plans she had for the future.

  Barbara Zook collapsed onto the sofa in her living room with a sigh. She’d just put her boys to bed and needed a little time to herself.

  “Mind if I join you?” her husband asked, as he stepped into the room.

  She patted the cushion beside her and smiled. “Not at all. I’d be happy for the company of someone old enough to carry on adult conversation.”

  David grinned as he seated himself on the sofa and scooted close to her. “You visited with some of the women from church today. Wasn’t that adult conversation?”

&nb
sp; Barbara nodded. “Jah, but that was some time ago. I’ve spent the last couple of hours feeding our boys, listening to their endless chatter, and getting them ready for bed.” She took hold of his hand. “Now I’m ready for some quiet time.”

  “You just said you wanted some adult conversation. If you need quiet time, then maybe I’d better sit here and keep my mouth shut.”

  She chuckled and squeezed his fingers. “I’m sure you know what I meant.”

  “Jah.” David leaned his headful of thick, dark hair on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “This does feel good.”

  They sat in companionable silence until Barbara decided to ask him a question. “What did you think when you saw Faith at church today?”

  David lifted his head and opened his eyes. “It was a surprise to me, as I’m sure it was to most. She’s been gone a long time, and I didn’t figure she would ever come back. How about you? What were your thoughts about seeing your old friend again?”

  Barbara frowned. “It was strange, David. . .very strange.”

  “In what way?”

  “Faith was dressed in Amish clothes, so she looked sort of the same, but her personality has changed.”

  “How so?”

  She released a groan. “Faith isn’t the same person I used to know. Even after only a few minutes of talking with her, I could tell that she’s unhappy.”

  “Well, of course she would be. Her husband died recently, isn’t that what you heard?”

  “That’s true,” Barbara said with a nod, “but I have a feeling that Faith’s unhappiness goes much deeper. Truth be told, I think Faith’s misery goes back to her childhood. I suspect she carried that sadness and sense of bitterness along with her when she left home ten years ago.”

  “You think it’s because her folks disapproved of her yodeling and joke telling?”

  “Not the yodeling, exactly—or the joke telling, either. There are others in our community who like to yodel and tell funny stories.”

  “That’s true,” he said with a nod. “Mer yodel laut, awwer net gut.”

  She nodded. “We do yodel loudly but not well. But I think what the Stutzmans disapproved of was Faith cutting up all the time when she should have been getting her chores done.”

  Deep lines etched David’s forehead. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her to get up onstage in front of a bunch of people and put on an act. It goes against everything we’ve been taught to show off like that.”

  “I don’t believe Faith saw it as showing off, David. I think she only ran away and became an entertainer because she didn’t feel what she enjoyed doing the most was accepted at home.”

  “Sure hope none of our kinner ever feels that way. I don’t know what I’d do if one of them were to up and leave home.”

  “Sell kann ich mir gaar net eibilde.” She patted his hand and repeated, “I can’t conceive of that at all. I’m sure neither of our boys will do something like that as long as they know we appreciate their abilities and God-given talents.”

  David leaned over and kissed Barbara’s cheek. “You’re a schmaert woman, you know that?”

  She nodded and stroked his bristly, dark beard. “I had to be smart to find a good husband like you.”

  “Church was good today, jah?” Noah’s mother asked as she handed Noah and his father each a cup of coffee, then took a seat at the table across from Noah.

  Noah nodded. “It’s always good.”

  “Seemed a little strange to see Faith Stutzman back and with a little girl she said was her daughter, no less,” Noah’s father put in from his seat at the head of the table.

  Mom smiled. “It’s nice that she’s come home and wants to be Amish again.”

  Noah stared into his cup of coffee as he pondered things. After his short visit with Faith this morning before church and then again after church was over, he wasn’t sure she wanted to be Amish. He had a hunch the only reason Faith had come home was to find a place for her daughter to live, and if that meant Faith having to give up her life as an entertainer, then she would do it. It was obvious by the look he’d seen on Faith’s face when she spoke of her child that she loved Melinda and would do most anything for her. He just wished she hadn’t looked so disinterested when he’d given her the cake with the scripture verse attached. Hopefully, she would take the time to read and absorb what it said.

  “You’re looking kind of thoughtful there, son,” Mom said, breaking into Noah’s thoughts. “Is everything all right?”

  “Jah, sure.” He picked up his cup and took a drink of coffee. “I was just thinking is all.”

  “So, Noah, who’d you give the cake you made to?” Pop asked.

  “Gave it to Faith, figuring she might need some encouragement today.”

  “That makes sense to me,” Mom put in. “Faith’s a nicelooking woman, wouldn’t you say?”

  Noah shrugged. “I suppose she does look pretty good in the face.”

  “So do some of my baby pigs, but looks ain’t everything.” Pop thumped his chest a few times. “It’s what’s in here that counts, and I have a hunch that wayward woman isn’t as pretty on the inside as she is on the outside.” He grunted. “Let’s hope she’s learned her lesson about chasing after the things of the world and has come home to stay.”

  Noah could hardly believe his father would compare Faith’s beauty to one of his pigs, but the thing that really riled him was Pop’s comment about Faith not being pretty inside.

  He sat there a moment, trying to decide how best to say what was on his mind. Pop could be stubborn and rather opinionated at times, and Noah wasn’t looking for an argument. Still, he felt the need to defend Faith.

  “I think we need to pray for Faith, don’t you? Pray that she’ll find peace and contentment here in Webster County, and that her relationship with God will be strengthened by her friends and family.”

  Pop’s forehead wrinkled, and he opened his mouth as if to reply, but Mom spoke first. “Noah’s right. What Faith needs is encouragement and prayer.” She smiled at Noah and patted his arm. “I’m glad you gave her that cake, and I’m sure she’ll enjoy eating it as much as we do whenever you bake something for us.”

  Noah chuckled. “Was that a hint that I should do more baking soon?”

  She nodded and took a bite of the sugar-free cake Noah had made especially for her.

  “I’ll probably do more baking after I get home from work tomorrow evening,” Noah said.

  Pop snorted. “You ought to quit that foolish job at the tree farm and come back to work for me.”

  Noah shook his head. “No thanks. I had enough dealings with smelly hogs when I was a boy and we were raising them to put food on our own table. You’re better off having Abel Yoder working for you. Ever since he and his family moved here from Pennsylvania, he’s been most happy to help with your hogs. ”

  “That’s because raising hogs is good, honest work, and Abel knows it.” Pop leveled Noah with an icy stare, making Noah wish he’d kept his comments to himself.

  “What Noah does for a living is honest work, too,” Mom defended.

  “Jah, well, it may be honest, but Christmas trees aren’t part of the Amish way, and if Noah’s not careful, he might be led astray from working with that English fellow who likes to listen to country music all the time.”

  Noah’s mouth dropped open. He’d never said anything to either of his folks about Hank playing country music, and he couldn’t figure out how Pop knew about it.

  “News travels fast in these parts,” Pop said before Noah could voice the question. “You’d better be careful what you say and do.”

  “I’m sure our son hasn’t gotten caught up in the world’s music,” Mom was quick to say. “And just because his boss chooses to listen to country music, that doesn’t make him a bad person.”

  Noah smiled. He couldn’t have said it better himself.

  Pop set his cup down so hard on the table that some of the coffee spilled out. “Jah, well, just don
’t let anything Hank says or does that’s worldly rub off on you, Noah.”

  “Like I would,” Noah mumbled as he turned away. Why was it that Pop always looked for the negative in things—especially when it came to Noah?

  Chapter 7

  In the days that followed, Faith and Melinda settled into a routine. Faith got up early every morning to help with breakfast, milk the cows, and feed the chickens. She labored from sunup to sunset, taking time out only for meals and to help Melinda learn the traditional Pennsylvania Dutch language of the Amish.

  The child had also been assigned several chores to do, and even though she seemed all right with the idea of wearing her aunt Susie’s Plain clothes, she wasn’t used to having so many responsibilities placed on her shoulders. Nor was she accustomed to being taught a foreign language. Amish children grew up speaking their native tongue and learning English when they entered school in the first grade. Since Melinda would be starting school in the fall and already spoke English, her task was to learn Pennsylvania Dutch.

  “I don’t like it here, Mama,” Melinda said one morning as she handed Faith a freshly laundered towel to be hung on the clothesline next to the house. “When can we go home?”

  Faith flinched. Home? They really had no home. Hotels and motels in whatever city Faith was performing in—those were the only homes Melinda had ever known.

  She clipped the towel in place and patted the top of her daughter’s head. “This is your home now, sweet girl.”

  “You mean, our home, don’t you, Mama?”

  “Oh, yes,” Faith said quickly. “And soon you’ll get used to the way things are.”

  Melinda lifted her chin and frowned. “Grandma Stutzman makes me work hard.”

  Faith wasn’t used to manual labor either, and every muscle in her body ached. In the past few weeks, she had pulled so many weeds from the garden that her fingers felt stiff and unyielding. Heaps of clothes had been washed and ironed, and she’d helped with the cooking and cleaning and done numerous other chores she was no longer accustomed to doing. It wasn’t the hard work that bothered Faith, though. It was the suffocating feeling that she couldn’t be herself. She desperately wanted to sit on the porch in the evenings and yodel to her heart’s content. She would enjoy telling some jokes or humorous stories and have her family appreciate them, but that was impossible.

 

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