Papa chuckled. “He won’t be so tiny once he’s grown.”
“Did you forget about coming to the house for cookies and milk?” Faith asked, tapping Melinda on the shoulder.
The child looked up at her and grinned. “Guess I got so busy watching the baby goat and talking with Grandpa that my stomach forgot it wanted cookies.”
Faith smiled. It was good to see her daughter so happy and satisfied. It made her wish she could have been that content when she was a child. If only she’d been more accepted. If only. . .
“How’s your mamm doing?” Papa asked, breaking into Faith’s thoughts. “Has she been resting that leg like she’s supposed to?”
“As far as I know, she’s still in the living room doing some mending,” Faith replied.
Papa lifted one eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call that resting.”
“She had her foot propped on a footstool and was sitting comfortably in the rocker with the mending in her lap, so I’m sure it didn’t cause any discomfort to her leg.”
“Are you trying to be gchpassich?” her father asked in a clipped tone.
Faith gritted her teeth as she struggled with the desire to defend herself. Here we go again. . .being accused of trying to be funny when I was merely trying to explain something. Why is it that everything I say to him seems to be taken wrong?
“Are you going to answer my question or not?” her father persisted. “Were you trying to be gchpassich?”
“Mama’s good at being funny,” Melinda interjected before Faith could respond. “Telling funny stories used to be her job before we moved here, you know.” When she looked up at Faith, a look of pride shone in her eyes.
Faith figured if her father saw that look, he would accuse Melinda of being filled with hochmut, and then she would be in for a lecture the way Faith used to be whenever she’d said or done anything that could have been considered proud.
Much to Faith’s surprise, however, Papa made no comment about what Melinda had said. Instead, he took hold of the child’s hand and steered her toward the barn door. “How’s about you and me going up to the house for some of those cookies you missed out on?”
Melinda nodded eagerly. “Are you coming, Mama?” she called over her shoulder.
“In a minute.”
When the barn door clicked shut, Faith dropped to a bale of straw near the goat’s stall. She sat there a few minutes, staring at the mother goat and her baby. Then she let her head fall forward in her hands, and she wept. She needed to get away from this place as soon as possible.
Chapter 18
The day finally came when Mama’s cast was removed. Faith wasn’t sure who was more relieved—she or Mama. The cumbersome cast must have been heavy, not to mention hot and sweaty during the warm days in late summer. The only trouble was, Mama’s leg, though healed, was now stiff and shriveled from being stuck inside the cast and not used for six weeks. The doctor had told Mama that she would need physical therapy to regain strength in her leg. That meant more expense for Faith’s folks, and it also doomed Faith to stick around a few more weeks. It wouldn’t be right to leave when Mama wasn’t able to function at 100 percent.
Faith had agreed to go to Springfield with her mother once a week for her therapy treatments, as her father and brothers were busy with the beginning of harvest, and Grace Ann and Esther were working at their jobs all day. Faith hired one of their English neighbors to drive them.
On the day of the first appointment, Faith hurried to make the girls their lunches, sent them off to school with a reminder not to dawdle, and rushed around to clean up the kitchen. She’d begun to wipe off the table when she noticed one of Melinda’s reading books. She hurried outside, calling, “Melinda, come back! You forgot something!”
The children were already halfway down the driveway, but Melinda must have heard, for she spun around and cupped her hands around her mouth. “What’d I forget?”
Faith held up the book. “Come back and get it!”
Seconds later, Melinda had the book and was running down the driveway to catch up to Susie. Faith clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she headed back to the house. At least one good thing had happened over the last few weeks. Noah had been able to teach Melinda enough to make Sarah Wagler happy. The teacher said she was pleased with Melinda’s progress and that the child seemed a bit more sure of herself.
Faith knew her daughter liked Noah a lot. She often talked about him, saying she wished he could be her new daddy. Faith tried to dissuade Melinda, reminding her that Noah had his parents to care for, and she and Melinda had Grandpa and Grandma Stutzman to help out. No point getting her daughter’s hopes up over something that was never going to happen.
When Faith entered the kitchen a few minutes later, she found her mother limping around the room, putting clean dishes in the cupboard.
“Why don’t you take a seat at the table and have a cup of tea?” Faith suggested. “I’ll finish up here, and we’ll be ready and waiting when Doris Moore comes to pick us up.”
Mama’s eyebrows were pinched as she sat down. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever get the strength back in my leg.”
“I’m sure with some therapy you’ll be good as new.”
“I hope so, because I’m getting awful tired of sitting around trying to do things with one leg propped up.” Mama heaved a sigh and took a sip of tea. “Will Noah be coming over this afternoon when he gets off work?” she asked with a hopeful expression.
Faith shook her head as she slipped a stack of clean plates into one of the cupboards. “When I saw Noah at church yesterday, I told him we were going to Springfield this morning for your therapy. Since I didn’t know what time we might get home, I suggested he wait until Tuesday to work with Melinda.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Mama smiled. “That man sure does have the patience of Job, don’t you think? I can’t get over what a good cook he is, either.”
“You’re right—Noah is a good cook, and he does seem to have more patience than most men.” Faith’s thoughts went immediately to Greg. He’d been so short-tempered. Especially when it came to Faith. He’d expected more than she could possibly give. He’d always pushed her to do multiple shows and reprimanded her whenever she wanted to take time off. And he’d let his temper loose on Faith more times than she cared to think about.
She rubbed her hand along the side of her face, thinking about how hard he had hit her one night shortly before his death. It had left a black-and-blue mark, but she’d hid it under a layer of heavy makeup.
“Susie thinks Noah might be sweet on you,” Mama said, pulling Faith out of her disconcerting thoughts. “I’m wondering if the feelings might be mutual.”
Faith clenched her teeth. Not this again. “Susie should mind her own business.” She slammed the cupboard door with more force than she meant to, and it rattled the dishes. She jerked it open again and checked to be sure nothing had broken. To her relief, all the dishes were intact.
“Faith, did you hear what I asked?”
Faith whirled around. “I heard you, Mama. I just don’t have anything to say.”
“Oh, I see.”
Maybe now was the time to tell Mama her plans. Faith opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat like a glob of gooey peanut butter. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. Not with Mama’s leg still trying to heal.
She popped two knuckles and frowned. Shouldn’t be doing that either, I guess.
“Faith, what’s wrong? You seem kind of agitated,” Mama said softly. “Why don’t you come over here and have a cup of tea with me while we wait for Doris?”
Faith moved back to the counter, where a stack of clean plates waited on the sideboard to be put away. “I–I’m fine, Mama, and I really do need to get the rest of these dishes put away.” Chicken. You’re afraid to tell her what’s troubling you.
“All right, then. Guess we can visit while you work and I sip my tea.”
For the next several minutes, the
y talked about the weather, who in their community was expecting a baby, how the girls were doing in school—anything but the one thing that weighed heavily on Faith’s mind. If only she felt free to tell Mama the truth: that she’d come home only so Melinda would have a place to stay while Faith was on the road entertaining, and that she felt ready to leave now, knowing Melinda had adjusted to being Amish, but she didn’t want to leave Mama in the lurch.
“Your teacup is empty,” Faith said after turning from the sink and glancing at her mother’s cup. “Would you like me to pour you some more?”
“Jah, sure, that’d be nice.”
Faith dried her hands and got the simmering teakettle. She had just finished pouring hot water into her mother’s cup when someone tapped on the back door.
“I wonder if that could be Doris,” Mama said. “I didn’t hear a car pull into the yard, did you?”
“No, I didn’t.” When Faith opened the door, she was surprised to see Barbara standing on the porch.
“Wie geht’s?” Barbara asked.
“I’m all right. How about you?”
“Fine and dandy.”
“Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea? Mama’s having some while we wait for Doris to give us a ride to Springfield for Mama’s first therapy session, and I’m finishing up the dishes.” Faith held the door open.
With an eager expression, Barbara nodded. “I always enjoy a good cup of tea.”
Faith led the way to the kitchen and pulled out a chair for Barbara. “Have a seat, and I’ll get another cup.”
“Wie geht’s, Wilma?” Barbara asked, smiling at Faith’s mother.
“I’m doing all right,” Mama replied. “The bone in my leg’s healed, although I do need some therapy.” She smiled at Barbara. “My oldest daughter’s been taking real good care of me.”
“Glad to hear it.” Barbara sat down, and Faith scurried to get tea and cups for both herself and her friend. Then she joined the women at the table.
“What brings you over our way, and where’s your horse and buggy? We never heard you pull in,” Mama said, looking at Barbara.
“I walked over today. Thought I could use the exercise.” Barbara patted her thick hips. “The reason for my visit, Wilma, is to invite you and your daughters to an all-day quilting bee at my house next Thursday.”
“That sounds like fun,” Mama said. “I’d like to come, but Esther and Grace Ann will both be working, so they won’t be able to make it.” She glanced over at Faith. “How about you? Would you like to go to the quilting bee?”
“How can you host a quilting bee when you work at the harness shop with your husband?” Faith asked Barbara.
“We’re fairly well caught up on things right now.” Barbara took a sip of tea. “So David suggested that I take a few days off and do something fun with my friends. He said I’m in the shop too much and need to fellowship more.” She rested her hand on Faith’s arm. “Please say you’ll come.”
Faith felt like a helpless fly trapped in a spider’s web. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the day with a bunch of somber women who could sew better than she could and whose idea of fun was to talk about the weather, who’d been sick in their family, or who’d recently had a birthday. But she hated to say no, since Mama wanted to go and would need someone to drive her there. “Jah, okay,” she finally said. “Mama and I will be at your quilting bee.”
“I was wondering something, Mama,” Faith said after Barbara left for home.
“What’s that?”
“How did you and Papa meet, and how’d you know he was the one you should marry?”
Wilma smiled as she stared across the room, allowing herself to remember the past. “Well, as you know, your daed’s two years older than me.”
Faith nodded.
“All through our school days, I had an interest in him, but he never gave me more than a second glance.” She took a sip of tea. “Anyway, when I went to my first young people’s singing, I made up my mind I was going to get your daed to notice me one way or another.”
“What happened?”
“Menno—your daed—had taken off his straw hat and laid it on a bale of straw in the Millers’ barn. When he wasn’t looking, I snatched the thing up and hid it behind some old milk cans.”
Faith leaned her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in the palms of her hands. “Then what?”
“Well, your daed spent the next half hour searching for his hat, and in the meantime, my two brothers, Henry and Levi, decided to head for home. Only thing is, they left without me.” She snickered. “I think they did it on purpose because they knew how much I cared for your daed.”
Faith added more water to her teacup. “I can’t believe you would do such a thing, Mama. It doesn’t sound like you at all.”
Wilma slowly shook her head. “I’m not perfect, Faith. Never claimed to be, neither. Besides, I had to do something to get that man to look my way.”
“I assume he did, since you’re married to him now.”
“After I discovered my brothers had run off without me, I conveniently found your daed’s hat. When I gave it to him, I just happened to mention that Henry and Levi had gone home and I had no ride.”
“Of course, Papa volunteered to give you a lift in his buggy.”
“He sure did.” Wilma grinned. “Not only did he drive me home, but when he dropped me off, he let it be known that he thought I was pretty cute. Even said he might like to give me a ride in his buggy after the next singing.”
Faith opened her mouth as if to comment, but the tooting of a car horn closed the subject. “Guess that must be Doris.”
“We’d better not keep her waiting,” Wilma said. “Wouldn’t be good for me to be late to my first appointment.”
Noah whistled as he flagged a group of six-foot pine trees with white plastic ribbon. The ones that were six and a half feet would get green and white ribbons. The trees he selected would be sold to wholesale Christmas tree lots. Amos and Griggs were at his side, vying for attention.
“Go play somewhere else, fellows,” Noah scolded. “Can’t you see that I’m a busy man?”
The hound dogs responded with a noisy bark and a couple of tail wags; then they bounded away.
A short time later, Hank showed up, offering Noah a bottle of cold water. Noah took it gratefully, as it had turned out to be a rather warm day.
“Thanks. With the weather being so hot, one would never guess it’s fall. Sure hope it cools off some before folks start coming to choose their trees.”
“That won’t be long,” Hank said as he flopped onto the grass between the rows of trees where Noah had been working. Noah followed suit, and the two of them took long drinks from their bottles, then leaned back on their elbows.
“I brought you and Sandy one of my lemon sponge cakes,” Noah said. “Dropped it off at the house before I started work.”
Hank licked his lips. “Umm. . .sounds good. Maybe we can have a piece after we eat the noon meal.”
Whenever Noah made lemon sponge cake, he thought about Faith and the cake he’d given her that first Sunday after she’d returned. He’d gotten to know her better since then, and the more time he spent with her, the more he cared about her. He hadn’t heard any more from either his mother or Wilma about Faith leaving Webster County, so he hoped she might have given up on the idea. Either that or she’d never planned to go in the first place. Could be that Wilma Stutzman had misread her daughter’s intentions. Maybe Noah had, as well, for Faith certainly seemed to have settled into the Amish way of life again, except for not being baptized and joining the church. Noah saw Faith’s staying as an answer to prayer and figured in time she would make things permanent by joining the church—if she wasn’t involved with that English fellow he’d seen her with, that is. Oh, how he wished he could get up his nerve to ask about that, but he’d let it go so long now that it might seem odd to Faith if he questioned her about it.
“So what’s new in your life?
” Hank asked, pulling Noah’s thoughts aside.
“Not so much.”
“Are you still helping that little Amish girl with her reading?”
Noah nodded. “Melinda’s doing better in school, but I’ve had such a good time helping her that I think I’ll keep going over awhile longer.”
Hank shot him a knowing look. “You sure it’s not the child’s mother you’re going to see?”
“As I’ve said before, Faith and I are just friends.” Noah’s face heated up. Hank was right. Even though Noah enjoyed helping Melinda with her studies, the real reason he wanted to keep going over to the Stutzmans’ place was to see Faith. He took another swig of water and clambered to his feet. “Guess I’d best get back to work. These trees won’t flag themselves.”
Hank stood, as well. “If you don’t want to talk about your love life, it’s fine by me.” He winked at Noah. “Just be sure I get an invitation to the wedding.”
Noah nearly choked on the last bit of water he’d put in his mouth. Was the idea of marriage to Faith a possibility? He doubted it, but it sure was a nice thought. “Changing the subject,” he said, “I was wondering how things are going with you and Sandy these days.”
Hank shrugged and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “About the same, I guess. She keeps busy with her things, and I keep busy with mine. We don’t talk much unless there’s something that needs to be said.”
“Have you thought any more about adopting a baby?”
“Nope. I’ve been afraid to bring it up for fear she’ll say no.”
“I’ll continue to pray for you,” Noah said. “But if you want my opinion, I think you should come right out and tell Sandy you’d like to adopt.”
“I’ll give it some thought.” Hank gave Noah’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks for being such a good friend.” He started to walk away but turned back. “Oh, and if you ever decide to start courting that woman you’re not interested in, you can count on me for some good advice.”
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