Abiding Mercy

by Ruth Reid

  “Money,” Faith replied.

  “Five hundred eighty-three dollars and seventy-eight cents in bills and coins.” Catherine motioned to the package. “There’s a note too.”

  Faith emptied the contents on the counter. She picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it. “Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.”

  She swallowed hard. “This is the amount of money that was stolen.”

  Gideon cocked his head. “You’re sure?”

  “Jah.” Faith studied the note again, recalling how the homeless man had quoted the scripture. “Danki, Father, for placing it on someone’s heart to return the money. Danki for watching over us.”

  “Amen,” Gideon said.

  Faith returned the money to the envelope. Her parents would be thrilled with the news. Perhaps the restaurant wouldn’t close after all.

  Gideon read the note, then handed it back. “Do you have any idea what this is about? I mean, I know it’s a Scripture verse, but it doesn’t make sense why someone would leave that note.”

  “Remember the red-haired man who came inside and spoke to the gunman?”

  “Jah. I wasn’t paying much attention to his hair color, but I remember the homeless man. I also recall him disappearing as quickly as he appeared.”

  “I think the note has something to do with . . .”

  “With what?”

  “A few weeks ago, he showed up here with a Will Work for Food sign. He quoted that same verse when I offered him something to eat.”

  Catherine’s mouth dropped open. “Do you think he retrieved the money from the gunman?”

  “Maybe.” But why would he confront a dangerous man? Her mouth dried. “I need to start making the bread or we won’t have any for the customers.”

  The day went smoothly having extra help. Olivia came to work, although she didn’t have anything to say to Faith. But nothing could dampen Faith’s spirit now that the money had been returned.

  Gideon arrived two hours before closing time ready to wash dishes so they could get out on time. But Faith had already made arrangements with Catherine to leave early. On the ride home, Gideon talked about fishing.

  “I need to run the money inside and make sure it’s okay with Mamm if we go,” she said once he pulled into the yard.

  “Take your time. I’m going to water Bay.”

  Faith skipped up the porch steps, excited to share the contents of the envelope with her parents. “You’ll never guess what was leaning against the back door of the restaurant.” She used Catherine’s opening line to spark their interest.

  She dumped the contents on the table.

  “Where did you get that?” Mamm said.

  “It’s the money that was stolen. Someone left it outside the door.” She moved the bills around. “It’s over five hundred dollars.”

  Mamm clutched her chest.

  “This will help keep The Amish Table open, right?”

  Mamm nodded. “On top of this blessing, and the money you and Olivia contributed, I found the bookkeeping error! We are nett as strapped for money as I had thought. Of course we still have looming medical bills . . .”

  Mamm’s words garbled in the back of Faith’s mind. Bookkeeping error? Did that mean Olivia hadn’t stolen money?

  “. . . I don’t know how I did it, but I omitted a few deposits.” Mamm shook her head. “Daed is going to take over the record books. I’m just nett gut at bookkeeping.”

  Faith lowered her head. “I heard a rumor about Olivia taking money from the till and I . . .”

  “The bishop heard the same rumor. When your father and I confronted Olivia, she adamantly denied the accusations. But that was what prompted me to search through the records again. And I’m so glad I did.”

  “So Olivia was telling the truth?”

  Her mother nodded. “The money in the jar was tips she’d saved. Saved for quite some time too. Olivia surprised me.”

  “Jah, me too.”

  Chapter 27

  Gideon hadn’t realized he’d been nervous until his hands started to sweat. Standing on the Pinkhams’ porch waiting for Faith, he rubbed his palms on the front of his shirt. What’s gotten into you? Gideon paced to the end of the porch where a hanging basket of pink geraniums was in full bloom. He checked the soil. Dry. If one plant was dry, the flower beds along the porch probably all needed watering as well. He grabbed the empty watering can from next to the porch swing and strode to the pump to fill it. He watered the flowers next to the house first, then fed the drooping geraniums.

  The screen door opened and Faith stepped outside. “We’ll need bait,” she said, holding up an empty container. “That is, if you still want to go?”

  “Jah.” He set the watering can down, then dried his hands on his shirt. “How long do you have?”

  She shrugged. “Olivia is bringing supper home after her shift, so I don’t need to help prepare anything.” She handed him a container for bait. “If you want to start looking for worms, I’ll grab Daed’s pole from the equipment shed.”

  Gideon trekked to the back of the barn where he found a log to turn. Without much digging he collected several worms.

  “Need help?” Faith approached, pole in hand.

  “I got ’em.” He stood, brushed the dirt off his knees, then showed her the wiggling critters. “You think this is enough?”

  “That depends,” she said with an adorable smirk. “You going to feed them to the fish again?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She walked alongside him to the buggy. “I seem to recall you had several fish that stole your bait the last time.”

  “And I seem to recall that I was the one who baited your hook the time you caught the bigmouth bass.”

  “Jah, it was a big bass, wasn’t it?”

  He reached for her pole and put it and the container of worms in the back of the buggy next to the tackle box and his pole.

  Faith climbed on the bench as he untied Bay. He turned the horse and buggy around, then climbed in beside Faith. One light tap of the reins and Bay started to trot. Without much afternoon traffic, they reached the fishing hole in a short time. Gideon unloaded the poles first and handed them to Faith, then grabbed the tackle box and bait.

  She glanced up at the sky. “It’s nice to be outside.”

  “You don’t get much free time, do you?” He admired how hard she worked. When she wasn’t at The Amish Table, she was doing laundry, canning, cleaning. Had he not volunteered to do her father’s barn chores, she might have taken on that responsibility, too, since this was hay season and the other men in the district were working in their own fields.

  “I don’t mind. Makes me appreciate the days I do have off more.” She drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a satisfied sigh, then laughed nervously when she caught him staring at her.

  No denying his feelings—Faith was special. The bishop had been right to lecture Gideon about temptation, because at this very moment, he couldn’t think of anything else but holding Faith in his arms and kissing her.

  Gideon cleared his throat. “I guess if we’re going to catch anything we better get down to the river.” He tromped through the tall meadow grass toward the sound of rushing water. As he reached the river embankment, a hawk swooped down, snatched a fish with its talons, then flew off into the distance. “Did you see that?” He spoke over his shoulder as he made his way closer to the water.

  “Are you going to say that should have been your catch?”

  “Exactly. He stole it.”

  She laughed. “It might have been mei fish he stole.”

  Gideon sat on the sandy shore. He didn’t have his waders on or he would walk in the current.

  Faith sat next to him and began untangling her line.

  “Do you want me to bait your hook?” he asked.

  “And take credit for the size fish I catch, nay danki.”

  He baited his hook and was the first to cast a line. He glanced
over at Faith fumbling with the squirming worm. “You sure you don’t want help?”

  She poked her finger and yelped.

  “Here, hold this.” He exchanged poles and, in doing so, her worm wiggled free from the hook. He chuckled to himself, knowing she would have lost her bait on the first cast. He fastened a new worm on the hook.

  A moment later she pulled back on the rod while at the same time reeling in the line.

  “Hey, I have something.”

  Gideon grabbed the net and waited for her to bring it in closer so he could scoop it from the water.

  Her trout was legal but nothing to brag about. Faith found something to say anyway. “Less than five minutes in the water and I caught one. The first one, I should add.”

  “With mei pole, mei bait, and mei cast.”

  “Oh, don’t be a poor sport, Gideon. Your turn will kumm.”

  He handed her pole back to her, then proceeded to remove the fish and rebait his. He cast the line, sending it up stream. Before he felt even a nibble, she caught two more.

  “Got another one.” She worked the line, reeling in a slightly larger fish than the last one.

  The trout flapped on the sandy shoreline. Gideon placed his foot on the fish to stop it from flapping back into the water.

  “This is fun,” she said, watching him unhook her fourth fish.

  “Smell your hands,” he said, smirking.

  Her face crinkled. “Why?”

  “Just do it.” He watched as she lifted one hand at a time to her nose. “Smell like fish?”

  “Nett really.”

  “Smell like bait?”

  She dropped her hand from her face and frowned. “You’re nett jealous, are you?”

  “You find that funny?” He finished baiting the hook, then set the pole down and stood.

  “It’d be understandable if—”

  “If what?” He moved within inches from her and lifted his hand. “Do mine smell like fish or worm guts?”

  “You are jealous.”

  “Of you having all the fun?” He cupped her face with his hands, then finding her mouth dropping open in a gasp, leaned down and kissed her softly. When he lifted his lips, her bewildered eyes searched his, speechless. He kissed her again, this time more controlled and determined to take his time. She placed her hands on his shoulders, his neck, then she weaved her fingers through his hair, sending tingling sensations over his scalp. She’d melted into his embrace and was giving herself to him. He pulled back. “Nau that, Faith Pinkham, was fun.”

  Her dreamy expression morphed into a narrow-eyed stare as his words registered. “Fun! You—you kissed me because it was fun?”

  “Yep.” He picked up the pole, cast the line, and forced himself not to glance her direction while his insides were flapping like an oxygen-starved fish. He’d only meant to give her an up-close whiff of fish guts, not kiss her. Ignoring her probably wasn’t the answer either, but his heart had never galloped this hard. He wasn’t about to risk her seeing the effect she had on him. But even focusing on the water rippling around his line, he could feel her eyes on him, demanding an explanation. He needed to say something, but what? Coward.

  “So,” he said after a few moments of silence. “You going to cast that line back out?”

  She huffed.

  He pivoted just enough to notice her crossed arms in his peripheral vision. He opened his mouth to tease her about being so stiff when he got a tug on the end of his line. He reeled in the catch, which unfortunately didn’t measure the legal limit. He tossed the pike back into the water, having to listen to Faith’s mocking chuckle. He laughed along. “Are we going to debate what’s funny again?” he asked with a wink.

  Her rosy cheeks turned the shade of a ripened Macintosh, but the blushing glow quickly faded. She glanced up at the sky, then stood. “We should probably go.”

  Were those tears forming in her eyes? He scrambled to his feet, tossed the remaining worms into the water, then collected the equipment. He lifted the string of fish she’d caught. “You’re nett wanting to go home because you’ve caught the most trout, are you?”

  She smiled. “We’d be here all nacht if we had to wait for you to catch something legal.”

  Gideon wasn’t sure why she’d sobered, but he liked that she was teasing again. They plodded through the meadow to where he’d left Bay tied under a tree. He loaded the poles, tackle box, and fish into the back end as Faith climbed into the buggy. Gideon untied Bay, then climbed onto the bench. But instead of releasing the brake, he shifted to face Faith. “I wanted to wait until you were baptized to . . .” His lungs tightened.

  “To kiss me?” She fiddled with a loose thread on her dress.

  He hooked his thumb under her chin and tipped it up. “To court you.”

  She blinked and tears rolled off her lashes. “I can’t court you, Gideon.”

  Chapter 28

  Gideon wanted to court her—exactly what Faith had dreamed about—but she had to say no. All because of Olivia. Faith cringed.

  “Are you interested in someone else?” Gideon asked.

  Only you. Faith shook her head.

  “But you’re nett interested in courting me?”

  She hesitated.

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Faith, you kissed me back.”

  Jah, she had. And his lingering kiss would be impossible to forget. Faith watched a hawk take flight from a stand of aspens, his wings spanning wide as he glided toward the water.

  Gideon mumbled something under his breath about another Pinkham woman trampling his heart. He released the brake, then tapped the reins.

  A strong scent of fish wafted from the back of the buggy, or maybe the odor was on her cheeks where he’d cupped her face with his hands. Her lips tingled from the memory alone. Faith stole a peek at Gideon, looking straight ahead. His silence stung.

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the driveway. He shifted on the bench. “Are you upset that I kissed you?”

  “Nay.” She looked down and studied the hand stitches on her apron.

  “We should have already been courting before I kissed you, and I take full responsibility for mei actions. I wanted to wait until after you were baptized, but—”

  “You were wrong about Olivia. She didn’t steal the money. Mamm found a bookkeeping error.” There, she said it. Olivia wasn’t the lying, stealing woman he said he couldn’t marry. Olivia wasn’t totally coldhearted either; she did give Mamm and Daed the money she’d saved. Faith opened the buggy door and stepped outside. “Rumors are destructive.”

  “Faith, wait.” Gideon jumped out of the driver’s side and leaped toward the porch as her foot landed on the bottom step. “Please, don’t go inside. Let’s talk about this.”

  His buggy rolled forward. In Gideon’s quick exit he must have forgotten to set the brake. Now Bay was heading toward the barn. The young gelding had spent enough time on their farm that he must have thought it was time to eat and bed down in the stall.

  Jogging next to the horse, Gideon was able to grab the reins.

  Faith went inside. She kicked off her mud boots at the door and plodded into the kitchen.

  Mamm glanced up from rolling out biscuit dough. “Did you and Gideon have a nice time?”

  Faith forced a smile and nodded.

  A knock sounded on the door. Gideon was peering through the screen when Faith rounded the corner.

  He lifted the string of fish. “You forgot your catch.”

  She opened the door. “I forgot the pole too.”

  Mamm stepped around the corner. “I thought I heard your voice, Gideon. Are you staying for supper?”

  “I wasn’t planning on . . .” He glanced at Faith, then turned back to Mamm. “Maybe another time?”

  “I see the fish were biting,” Mamm said, motioning to Gideon’s hand. She turned to Faith. “Take them outside and clean them. The trout will be a nice addition to whatever Olivia brings home for supper.”

  “Okay. I’
ll get a knife.” Faith disappeared into the kitchen and searched the utensil drawer for the fillet knife. Her father usually gutted and cleaned the fish with a special knife he kept in the barn or maybe the icehaus, but she wouldn’t interrupt his nap to ask. Instead she grabbed the sharpest paring knife in the drawer and an old newspaper from the box next to the wood stove.

  Gideon eyed the knife in her hand and frowned. Once outside he said, “It’d be easier with a fillet.”

  “Couldn’t find it.” She strode to the tree stump they used for butchering chickens and spread out the newspaper.

  Gideon set the trout on the paper. “I’ll check the buggy for a better knife.”

  Faith didn’t wait. She jabbed the knife into the fish, slit it down the middle, then removed the entrails. The barn cats must have picked up on the scent because they came meowing.

  Gideon returned with the knife. “Couldn’t wait?”

  “It’s getting late.”

  Gideon cleaned the remaining fish before she finished one. He scooped the entrails and fish heads off the newspaper and tossed them to the waiting cats. “Do you want me to finish that one?”

  “I’m almost done.”

  “Here, use this.” He handed her his knife, but said nothing about how badly she had mangled her fish compared to his.

  “Danki.” Making the first cut with the sharper knife, she gashed her fingers. Bright red blood gushed out. Faith dropped the knife on the newspaper and clutched her hand. She wasn’t sure what hurt worse, the actual cut or the sting of the oily fish juices seeping into the wound.

  “Put pressure on it,” Gideon instructed.

  Faith squeezed her finger, but the bleeding wasn’t stopping.

  “Let’s go to the pump.” He ran ahead and cranked the handle.

  She held her finger under the icy water as it began to go numb.

  Gideon inspected the cut. “You might need stitches.”

  She had other things to try first. “I’ll put some flour on it and if that doesn’t work, I’ll try coffee grounds. Would you mind flaying the rest?”

  “Jah, no problem.” He removed a hankie from his back pocket and reached for her hand.