Only we weren’t model, and Greg may have been handsome and charming, but his love was conditional. Faith blinked away the stinging tears threatening to escape her lashes. Why didn’t Greg love me the way a man should love his wife? Why couldn’t we be a happy family?
“It’s good to see you,” Barbara said, jolting Faith away from her memories. “I was hoping you’d be here today. It’ll give us a chance to get reacquainted and catch up on one another’s lives.”
Faith nodded. Truth was she couldn’t allow herself to reestablish what she and Barbara once had, because she knew she wouldn’t be staying around long enough to develop any close ties—not even with family members. It would make it easier to say good-bye when it was time for Faith to leave.
“Are you okay?” Barbara asked with a note of concern. “You look kind of sad today.”
“I’m fine.” Faith nibbled on her lower lip. “Just standing here waiting to be told what I should do.”
Barbara looked a little uncertain, but she handed Faith a pitcher of lemonade and grabbed one for herself. “Let’s take these outside to the menfolk. Then we can sit a spell and visit before it’s time to start the noon meal.”
Faith followed Barbara out the door. They placed their pitchers on a wooden table beside a huge pot of coffee. As warm as it was today, Faith didn’t see how anyone could drink the hot beverage, but then she remembered something her father used to say: “If I’m warm on the inside when it’s hot outside, then my body believes it’s cold.”
That made no sense to Faith, and she was pretty sure it was just Dad’s excuse to drink more than his share of the muddylooking brew. She had never acquired a taste for coffee and planned to keep it that way.
“Let’s sit over there,” Barbara said, motioning to a couple of wicker chairs under a shady maple tree.
Faith flopped into one of the seats and fanned her face with her hands. “Sure is warm out already. I can only imagine how hot and muggy it’ll be by the end of the day.”
Barbara nodded. “Pity the poor men working on that barn.”
Faith’s gaze drifted across the yard to where the Hertzlers’ barn was already taking shape. Rising higher than the family’s two-story house, the framing of the new structure looked enormous. Men and older boys armed with saws, hammers, and planes were positioned in various sections of the barn. It would be a lot of work, but they would probably have most of it done by the end of the day.
“An English barn is built using all modern equipment, but it doesn’t come together in twice the time it takes for an Amish barn raising,” Faith noted.
“That’s because we all pull together when there’s a need. I wouldn’t be happy living anywhere but here among my people.”
If Barbara’s comment was meant to be a jab at Faith and her wayward ways, she chose to ignore it. “No, I don’t suppose you would be.”
“Tell me what it’s like out there in the world of entertaining,” Barbara said, redirecting their conversation. “Is it all you had hoped it would be?”
“It’s different—and exciting. At least it was for me.”
“Do you miss it?”
Faith swallowed hard. How could she tell Barbara how much she missed entertaining without letting on that she didn’t plan to stay in Webster County indefinitely? She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue as she searched for the right words. “I miss certain things about it.”
“Such as?”
“The response of an appreciative audience to one of my jokes or the joy of yodeling and not having anyone looking down their nose because I’m doing something different that they think is wrong.” Faith hadn’t planned to say so much, but the words slipped off her tongue before she could stop them.
“You think that’s how your family acted?”
Faith nodded.
“Do you believe they saw your joke telling and yodeling as wrong?”
Faith could hardly believe her friend had forgotten all the times she’d told her about her folks’ disapproval. Maybe Barbara had become so caught up in her adult life that she didn’t remember much about their younger days when they had confided in one another and been almost as close as sisters. The truth was, Barbara had gotten after Faith a few times. Not for her joke telling and sense of humor, but for her discontent and her tendency to fool around.
“Papa used to holler at me for wasting time when I should’ve been working. He thought my yodeling sounded like a croaking frog, and many times he said I was too silly for my own good.” Faith’s voice was edged with bitterness, but she didn’t care. It was the truth, plain and simple.
“There are a few others in the area who like to yodel,” Barbara reminded. “As you know, yodeling is part of the Swiss-German heritage of some who live here, and it’s been passed from one generation to the next.”
“That may be true, but Papa has never liked me doing it, and it took English audiences to appreciate my talent.”
Barbara’s raised eyebrows revealed her apparent surprise. “Did you enjoy being English?”
Faith wasn’t sure how to respond, so she merely nodded in reply.
“Then why’d you come back?”
“I—I thought it was best for Melinda.”
“Your mamm tells me you’ve been widowed for several months.”
“That’s right. My husband stepped out into traffic and was hit by a car.”
Barbara slowly shook her head. “Such a shame it is. I’m real sorry for you, Faith. I can’t imagine life without my David. We work so well together in the harness shop, and he’s such a good father to our boys, Aaron and Joseph. I don’t think I could stand it if something happened to David. It’s hard enough to lose a parent or grandparent, but losing a husband? That would be unbearable pain.” She glanced over at Faith and offered a half smile. “Might be a good thing for you and your daughter if you found another husband. Don’t you think?”
Faith felt her fingers go numb from clutching the folds in her dress so tightly. She had no intention of finding another husband. Not now. Not ever.
“How old are your sons?” Faith asked, hoping to steer their conversation in another direction. She didn’t want to talk about her dysfunctional marriage to Greg, his untimely death, or the idea of marrying again. Remembering was easy; forgetting was the hard part. Thinking about a relationship with another man was impossible.
“Aaron’s four, and Joseph just turned two.” Barbara patted her belly and grinned. “We’re hoping to have another boppli soon. Maybe a girl this time around.”
“You’re pregnant?” Faith couldn’t imagine having two little ones to care for, plus a baby on the way.
“Not yet, but soon, I hope. I love being a mamm.”
Faith enjoyed motherhood, too, and she had hoped to have more children someday. But with the way things were between her and Greg, she was glad it hadn’t happened. His unreliability and quick temper were reason enough not to want to bring any more children into their unhappy marriage, not to mention his drinking and gambling habits. Now that Faith was widowed and had no plans of remarrying, she was certain Melinda would be her only child.
Faith shifted in her chair. At least Melinda will have her aunt Susie to grow up with. That’s almost like having a sister.
“You’ll have to excuse me a minute,” Barbara said as she stood. “David’s waving at me. He must want something to drink.”
Faith stood, too. “Guess I’ll go on back to the house and see what needs to be done for the noon meal.”
Just before Faith and Barbara parted ways, Barbara touched Faith’s arm and said, “I always enjoyed your joke telling.”
“Thanks.” Faith headed around the back side of the Hertzlers’ place, not feeling a whole lot better about things. Barbara’s compliment was appreciated, but it didn’t replace the approval of Faith’s parents. That’s what she longed for but was sure she would never have.
She was almost to the porch when she spotted Noah coming out the door. He carried a jug of wa
ter and lifted the container when he saw her. “It’s getting mighty hot out there. Thought some of the men would rather have cold water to quench their thirst.”
Faith’s cheeks warmed. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I should have realized not everyone would want coffee or lemonade.”
Noah tromped down the stairs, his black work boots thumping against each wooden step. He stopped when he reached Faith. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since I gave you that lemon sponge cake after church a few weeks ago. I was wondering how you liked it.”
“It was very good.”
“Glad you liked it,” he said with a friendly grin. “What’d you think about the verse of scripture?”
Faith sucked in her breath, searching for words that wouldn’t be an outright lie. “Well, I. . .uh. . .I think it may have gotten thrown out before I had a chance to read it.”
Noah’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry to hear that. It was a good verse. One about faith, in fact.”
“There’s a verse in the Bible about me?” Faith giggled and winked at him, hoping he wasn’t one who had a dislike for the funny side of life.
A slow smile spread across Noah’s face, and he chuckled. “You do still have a sense of humor. You seemed so solemn when we last talked, and I couldn’t help but wonder if you’d left your joke telling back in the English world.”
She shrugged. “What can I say? Once a comedian, always a comedian.” So much for being careful to watch her tongue and keep her silliness locked away.
“Do you miss it?” This was the second time today that Faith had been asked the question, and she wondered what Noah’s reaction to her response would be.
“Sometimes,” Faith admitted. “But I’m afraid there’s no place for my joke telling here in Webster County.”
“You don’t have to set your humor aside just because you’re not getting paid or standing in front of a huge audience anymore.”
She pulled in her lower lip as she inhaled deeply and then released her breath with a groan. “It’s kind of hard to be funny when everyone around you is so serious.”
Noah took a seat on the porch step and motioned for Faith to do the same. “We’re not all a bunch of sourpusses sucking on tart grapes, you know. In case you haven’t noticed, many among us like to have fun.” He nodded toward two young men who stood across the yard. They’d been drinking lemonade a few minutes ago but were now sprinting across the grass, grabbing for one another’s straw hats.
Faith smiled, realizing Noah had made his point.
“Now back to that verse of scripture.”
Oh, no. Here it comes. I think I’m about to receive a sermon from this man.
“It was from Hebrews, chapter eleven, verse six.”
“And it’s about faith, right?”
He nodded. “‘But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.’”
She contemplated his words. “If it’s impossible to please God without having faith, then I must be a terrible disappointment to Him.”
Noah tilted his head to one side. “Now why would you say something like that?”
“Because my faith is weak. It’s almost nonexistent.”
“Faith isn’t faith until it’s all you’re holding on to. Some folks get the idea that faith is making God do what we want Him to do.” He shook his head. “Not so. Faith is the substance of things not seen.”
“Hmm.”
“Abraham was the father of faith. When he heard God’s voice telling him to leave and go to a new land, he went—not even knowing where he was going.”
Faith could relate to that part a little. When she’d first left home to strike out on her own, she hadn’t had a clue where she was going. She had ended up waiting tables at a restaurant in Springfield for a time.
“Faith’s like a muscle you’ve got to develop. It takes time and patience.” Noah grinned at her. “Guess that’s a little more than you were hoping to hear, jah?”
She shrugged, then nodded. “Just a bit.”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Your name is Faith, so I think that means you’ve got to have faith.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She jumped up and dashed for the house before he had a chance to say anything more.
Chapter 10
One Saturday morning a few weeks after the Hertzlers’ barn raising, Faith decided to take Melinda into Seymour to check out the farmers’ market. It would give the two of them some quality time together, which they hadn’t had much of since they’d arrived in Webster County. Faith knew she’d be leaving soon. She’d driven one of her father’s buggies into town last week and phoned the talent agency in Memphis again. This time she was told that one of their agents, Brad Olsen, was interested in representing her as soon as she was ready to go back on the road. He asked that she contact him at her earliest convenience, and Faith planned to do so as soon as she could leave.
Faith felt a need to speak to Melinda in private today, encouraging her in the ways of her Amish family and helping her adjust to their new lifestyle. Besides, getting away from the farm for the day would allow Faith to do something fun—something she was sure she would be criticized for if she did it at home. It would give Faith a chance to make another phone call, too. She needed to check in with the agency and make sure they knew she was still interested in being represented by Mr. Olsen.
After they finished browsing the market, Faith had every intention of taking Melinda to one of the local restaurants where they could listen to some country-western music. Baldy’s Café had been one of her favorite places to go when she was a teenager, so she thought about taking Melinda there. Not only did they serve succulent country fried steak, tasty pork chops, and smothered chicken, but lively country music was played on the radio.
Gathering the reins in her hands and waving good-bye to her mother, who stood watching them from the front porch, Faith guided the horse down the gravel driveway and onto the paved road in front of their farm. It was another hot, sticky day, and the breeze blowing against her face was a welcome relief. There was something to be said for riding in an open buggy on a sultry summer day.
“Too bad it’s such a pain in the wintertime,” she muttered.
“What’s a pain, Mama?” Melinda questioned.
Faith sucked in her breath. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. The last thing she needed was for Melinda to hear negative comments about living as the Amish.
“It’s nothing to worry about.” Faith reached across the seat and patted her daughter’s knee. “Mama was just thinking out loud.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“It’s not important.” Faith smiled at Melinda. “Are you excited about our day together?”
Melinda nodded. “Sure wish Susie could have come, too.”
“Maybe some other time. Today I want to spend time alone with you.”
“Will we buy something good to eat at the market?”
“We should find plenty of tasty things there, but I think we’ll have lunch at one of the local restaurants.”
“Can I have a hot dog with lots of ketchup and relish?”
“Sure,” Faith said with a nod. “You can have anything you want.”
Melinda’s lower lip protruded. “Grandma Stutzman makes me eat things I don’t like. She says I have to eat green beans and icky beets whenever they’re on the table. How come she’s so mean?”
Faith’s heart clenched. How could she leave Melinda with her parents if the child felt she was being mistreated? “Vegetables are good for you,” she replied.
“I still don’t like ’em.”
“Maybe someday you will.”
Melinda shrugged.
“Are you still missing TV and other modern things?”
“Not so much. I’d rather be out in the barn helping Grandpa with the animals th
an watching TV.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Mama, are you ever gonna get married again?”
Melinda’s unexpected question took Faith by surprise, and she answered it without even thinking. “No!”
“How come?”
Faith thought before replying this time. She couldn’t tell Melinda she was against marriage because she was bitter and angry over the way Greg had treated her. The child loved her father and had no idea what had gone on behind closed doors when she’d been sound asleep. Faith had managed to keep Greg’s abusiveness hidden from their precious child, and she wouldn’t take away the pleasant memories Melinda had of her father.
“Mama, how come you don’t want to get married again?” Melinda persisted.
Faith reached for her daughter’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Because you’re all I need.”
Melinda seemed satisfied with that answer, for she smiled, leaned her head against the seat, and closed her eyes. “Wake me when we get there, okay?”
Faith smiled and clucked to the horse to get him moving a bit faster. “I will, sweet girl.”
“That Melinda sure has a way with animals,” Menno said as he joined his wife at the table for a cup of coffee. “You should have seen how easily she picked up on milking the cows.” He took a drink from his cup and set it down on the table. “I think she’s going to be a real big help to me when it comes to any of the farm chores that involve working with animals.”
Wilma grunted. “Jah, well. . .don’t get too attached to that idea. Melinda might not be around much longer.”
“Why’s that?”
“Faith might leave again—you said so yourself, remember?”
“True, but Melinda is settling in pretty well, and I really enjoy being around her.” He smiled. “So I’m hoping they’ll stay.”
“I hope so, too, but the way Faith has been acting makes me think she might not be happy living here, and if she leaves, who knows if we’ll ever see her or Melinda again?”
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