by Ruth Reid
“I should have been more careful,” she said, watching him gently wrap the hankie around her fingers.
“Accidents happen. Have you had a tetanus shot lately?”
“I think so.” She held the hankie tight and returned to the house.
Mamm took one look at the bloody cloth and ushered her to the sink. “I’ll get the flour.”
Faith held her hand under the cold water until Mamm had the flour ready to pour over the cut. At first it didn’t seem like the bleeding was going to stop, but it finally did. As she held her hand still for Mamm to bandage it with a clean cloth, Gideon entered the kitchen with the fish.
Gideon craned his neck to see around Mamm. “Did it stop bleeding?”
“I think so,” Faith replied.
“Where would you like me to put the fish, Irma?”
Mamm rinsed her hands, then removed a plate from the cabinet. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for supper, Gideon?”
“Mei mamm is expecting me home, but danki.” He placed the trout on the plate, then washed his hands at the sink.
Olivia walked into the kitchen complaining about how much her feet ached. She set the pan of baked ziti on the table, the cheesy aroma filling the room. Olivia glanced at Faith’s hand, but wasn’t inquisitive enough to ask what happened. When her gaze reached Faith’s, her sister scowled.
Gideon backed toward the door. “I shouldn’t keep mei mamm waiting with supper.” He turned and left.
Faith sighed. Those few moments at the river had changed her and Gideon’s longstanding friendship. Now their relationship might always feel strained.
An hour later, as Mamm covered the fish in flour and placed them into the frying pan, Olivia and Faith carried the table into the sitting room so their family could sit together for the meal.
While Olivia answered a dozen or more questions about the new horse she’d driven into work, Faith wondered if the Lord provided a horse and buggy so she had her own transportation and wouldn’t have to rely on Gideon.
Chapter 29
Order up,” Catherine announced, ringing the bell once to summon Olivia. Had Catherine tapped the bell twice, Faith would have responded. As women from the district volunteered to help wash dishes and assist Catherine in the kitchen, Faith and Olivia waited tables.
Faith removed the carbon copy of an order and clipped it to the wire. She moved aside as Olivia came up to the island with her tray.
Patty rushed by her with a plastic crate of stacked cups. She’d been elbow-deep in dishwater the last two hours straight. Faith liked it better when Gideon was washing dishes, but he hadn’t been around in the last three weeks. He’d been scarce around the house as well, doing the chores before she was off work.
Faith kept herself busy at work, hoping the distraction would rid thoughts of him. But she seldom stayed busy enough, and she looked for him each time the bell over the front door jingled. His absence had the opposite effect. Instead of letting go, she held on to every second leading up to his kiss.
Faith picked up the coffeepot and made a loop around the room refilling mugs. She stepped aside as Olivia approached carrying a food tray. Her sister stopped at the table behind Faith, and without intentionally eavesdropping, Faith overheard a conversation between her sister and an older gentleman seated by himself.
“Delight thyself also in the Lord: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart,” the man said. Before Olivia formed a response, he added, “Child, if you would learn to trust in the Lord, you wouldn’t need to strive for things unseen. You will find contentment in His grace.”
Faith glanced over her shoulder to see Olivia’s brows pucker in response to his words.
“How do you know anything about me?” Olivia’s voice trembled.
Another customer at a nearby table cleared her throat. “Miss,” she said, lifting her mug. Faith quickly refilled the woman’s mug while straining to hear the conversation at Olivia’s table. Although Faith couldn’t hear the red-haired man’s reply, when she glanced over at Olivia, she noticed her sister’s face had turned ashen. Faith filled more cups, emptying the pot. Then she returned to the waitress station to brew more.
Olivia darted behind the counter and ducked. “The man at table five would like more kaffi.”
“He’s your customer.”
“Nay, I don’t want him.” Olivia shook her head. “The man is narrish.”
The bell rang twice. Faith smiled. “Catherine’s calling me.” She pushed the swinging doors open and breezed into the kitchen. “What do you have?”
“Table three is ready. Table two is up next.” Catherine flipped the eggs in the frypan.
Faith delivered the food to the customers. As she passed the man with the red hair, she noticed his mug sitting on the edge, empty. “Sir, we’re brewing more kaffi nau.”
“Bless you, dear.”
She rounded the workstation and glared at Olivia. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I told you he’s narrish. He called himself a messenger. I’m nett going back to that table.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.” She groaned when the order bell dinged twice again. “You’ll have to serve table two.” Faith handed Olivia the tray, then picked up the coffeepot.
She filled the man’s mug, leaving enough room for him to add cream. “How is everything?”
“Very good.” He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Do you know that the Lord Himself goes before you? He will be with you; He will never leave nor forsake you.”
She hesitated, struck by an odd familiarity she couldn’t place. She studied his gaze. Vibrant. Engaging. He reminded her of the homeless man, perhaps because he talked so openly about God. But this man seated before her was well groomed, wearing clothes neatly pressed. Realizing she’d been staring, Faith cleared her throat. “You’re referring to the verse in Deuteronomy, jah?”
The man’s green eyes flickered as if pleased with her answer. “The Israelites’ journey to the promise land required blind faith,” he said. “God went with them, leading them, yet they cried out in fear, even begged to return to bondage.”
Faith listened, finding the man’s enthusiasm for the Scriptures refreshing.
“The One who knows you by name has called you. Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. Remember He is with you always.”
“I believe that He is with me.”
“Then you shall find comfort in His mercy.”
He was talking as if he knew something Faith didn’t. Perhaps the man was suffering from dementia. “Can I get you anything else?”
“I’m satisfied now,” he said.
“Okay, then I’ll bring you the check.” She returned to the waitress station and placed the coffeepot back on the machine’s hot plate.
Olivia sidled up beside her, leaned closer, and whispered, “I told you he’s narrish.”
“He’s an old man quoting scriptures. There is nothing narrish about that. We should all give account of our faith more freely.”
“He got to you too. I can tell. You’re shaking.”
Faith glanced at her hands. Her sister was right, but Faith refused to agree that the customer had anything to do with it. What he’d spoken was the truth. God went before her—true. He was with her always—absolutely. If anything, the man’s words had given her something else to think about besides Gideon. His words were like a blessing themselves—a holy distraction.
Gideon inspected the apple and frowned at the crescent-shaped hole in the fruit. Plum Curculio beetles had burrowed their way into several apples, and a few pest-ridden fruit had already fallen to the ground. Why hadn’t he seen signs of the infestation the other day when he was carting barrels of water out to the trees? He moved down the rows, checking each tree thoroughly for the extent of damages. So far he’d been able to avoid spraying toxic chemicals on his trees by pruning infected fruit and by using chickens. He also made a point to rake all the fruit that had fallen when the trees naturally pruned themselves in June.
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The trees too infected to save, he chopped down and hauled to a clearing to burn. He didn’t like losing mature trees, but he had no choice. It took most of the day, and even then he wasn’t sure if he’d rectified the situation completely. As a last-ditch effort, he relocated the chickens from the henhouse to the fences surrounding the trees. They would eat well for the next few days.
As he worked, his thoughts flitted to Faith. He’d broken his own vow—went straight to kissing her. She deserved to be courted properly. Gideon replayed her expression when he’d brushed her face with his fishy hands. Standing so close, seeing her mouth drop open . . . He shook his head. If he continued reviewing his actions leading up to the kiss, he might never master self-control again. Faith deserved better. Gideon glanced up at the descending sun. He needed to finish raking the infected apples and get over to Faith’s house to milk the cows.
A short time later, Gideon was perched on a chair next to Mordecai Pinkham, updating him on the livestock and the limited feed remaining in the grain barrels.
“I could pick up a sack or two of oats from the feedstore if you’d like,” Gideon offered.
“That would be gut, danki.”
Irma came into the sitting room carrying two mugs of coffee and handed one to Gideon. “You’re welkum to stay for supper tonight, Gideon. I’m making meat loaf.”
“I’d like that, danki.” His mouth had been watering since he’d arrived, taking in the tantalizing aroma.
The front door opened and Faith stepped inside. She looked his way and offered a tight-lipped smile.
“Hello, Faith,” he said.
“What are you doing here, Gideon?”
Mordecai cleared his throat. “Is that any way to treat our guest?”
“I’m sorry if I sounded rude.” Her gaze danced around the room, landing anywhere but on Gideon.
“I wanted to let your daed know the grain is low,” he said.
“And I invited him to stay and have supper,” Irma interjected. Gideon smiled. “Your mamm’s making meat loaf. How could I refuse?”
Irma motioned to the kitchen. “Could you both help move the table in here so we can all eat together?”
Gideon stood. He and Faith managed to move the table into the sitting room without talking. He’d clear the air between them once supper was over.
Small talk during dinner consisted of crops and livestock. Gideon was sure his belly had stretched eating so much food. Irma’s meat loaf was the best he’d eaten, though he wouldn’t admit that in front of his mother. Faith hardly looked up from her plate, and she remained close-mouthed throughout the meal. He hadn’t seen her in three weeks and now that the meal had ended, he half expected her to find a reason to scurry off.
“Danki for inviting me to supper,” he told Faith’s parents.
“You’re always welkum, Gideon.” Irma sipped her coffee.
“I’d like to show mei appreciation by offering to wash dishes.” He pushed away from the table and grabbed his plate, water glass, and utensils.
Faith stood. “That isn’t necessary.”
“But it’s a thoughtful gesture,” Irma said. “And I accept, Gideon.” She turned to Faith. “Before you and Gideon reddy-up the kitchen, would you mind pouring your father and me more kaffi?”
“Jah, sure.” Faith picked up their mugs and retreated into the kitchen.
Gideon collected a handful of dishes. Once everything was cleared off the table, he and Faith would move it back to the kitchen. Gideon placed the plates in the sink. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“I was surprised to find you here tonight. You’ve made yourself scarce.” She gingerly touched the kettle to see if it was still hot.
“I’ve been busy in the orchard.” Busy trying to sift through his feelings.
She wrapped a potholder around the cast-iron kettle handle, removed it from the stove, then poured coffee into the two mugs. As she delivered the drinks, Gideon prayed.
Lord, I need help. I know I got myself into this mess, but will You please give me the right words?
Faith returned, her mouth twisted in the same grimace as when she’d left.
He rolled up his shirt sleeves. Maybe not talking just yet was best. He scrubbed the plates and passed them to her to rinse. The serving dishes and glasses were followed by the pots and pans. Still, she didn’t offer a word.
“How do you like the new horse?” he asked.
“Her gait is smooth. Fast.”
“She’s a retired racetrack horse. The bishop took up a collection and he and a few others bought her at the auction.”
“The mare is certainly a blessing.” Faith dried the plate and put it away. “At least I don’t have to ask anyone for a ride to work. Although Catherine is always more than willing to pick me up or drop me off.”
He sighed. She was more upset with him than he originally thought.
“And you,” she added with phony chirpiness. “You’ve been a wunderbaar help to mei family. You’ve taken it upon yourself to keep up with the barn chores and it really means a lot to . . . mei parents.”
He fished the silverware from the bottom of the basin and washed each piece with the cloth. After a miserable moment of silence between them, he handed her a washed fork without letting go. “We’re called to help one another in times of need.”
“Jah—and pray for those in trouble.”
He released the fork and shifted to face her. Leaning his hip against the sink and crossing his arms, he said, “Do you need me to pray about something—someone in particular?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “I merely repeated what the last baptism class was about.”
“I see. Because I figured it had something to do with you avoiding eye contact with me.”
She opened her eyes, but her gaze flitted. “Nope, it doesn’t.”
“You still looked away.”
Faith straightened her shoulders, held eye contact a half second, then looked away. “Mamm’s going to wonder what’s taking us so long to finish the dishes.” She put away the utensils, then washed the countertop.
He stood frozen, watching her scurry around the kitchen. Watching his best friend turn into a stranger. “How can we move past this uneasiness between us?”
She snapped the dish towel, then spread it over the counter. “You’re the one who didn’t kumm around for weeks. I know, you said you were busy in the orchard.”
“That’s true. I found grubs tunneling into the fruit. I had to do what I could to get the beetles under control. On top of that, I had to water the trees because we haven’t had enough rain.”
“You’ve been dealing with all that plus keeping up with our milking . . .” Her expression softened, and the imaginary wall between them vanished as her eyes flooded with concern. “Oh, Gideon, you must be exhausted.”
He smiled. His best friend was back. “I’m nett too tired to sit with you on the swing for a while. Would you like to go outside?”
Her downturned mouth and the dull cast in her eyes answered that question. “Gideon,” she said softly. “It wouldn’t be wise.”
He pulled the drain plug. “We have some things to talk about.”
Faith eyed him a moment, then led the way outside, but she didn’t sit on the swing. Instead she clutched the porch banister and aimed her gaze toward the barn.
The evening song of crickets chirping would have made the perfect backdrop to share time together—if Faith wasn’t upset with him. He cleared his throat. “Are things better between you and Olivia?”
Faith shook her head. “She still blames me.”
“I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to cause problems for Faith when he went to the bishop about Olivia. Now he wished he hadn’t listened to the rumors. “It’s gut your mother found the bookkeeping error.”
“Jah, but it doesn’t change everything. The hospital bills are high and our busiest season is almost over. After Labor Day weekend and the Potato Festival, things will slow
down at work. According to Mamm, we’ll be fortunate to stay afloat this winter. But this isn’t what you wanted to talk about, is it?”
“Nay,” he replied. “I want to know why you won’t court me. I thought our friendship had turned a new direction—that you had developed special feelings for me.”
She faced him. “You told me the reason you couldn’t marry Olivia was because she stole from mei parents.” She shrugged. “That rumor turned out to be a lie.”
Gideon swallowed hard. He could have stopped the gossip from reaching the bishop’s ears.
“Olivia’s confused. She may join the church after all, and if that’s her decision, I don’t want to stand in the way of you two getting married.”
He shook his head. “Faith, even if Olivia chooses our way, I’m nett going to marry her.” He reached for her hands. “I love you and nothing will kumm between us—unless, of course, you change your mind about baptism.”
Faith smiled. “Nothing will change mei mind about baptism. I’m nett ever leaving our community.”
Chapter 30
The following morning Faith and Catherine zipped around the restaurant getting things ready. “I doubt Olivia will kumm into work today. She was out late again. So it might be just you and me.”
“We’ve done it before,” Catherine said, pinching the edge of the piecrust.
Faith nodded. Truth was, the day would probably run smoother without Olivia. But she wasn’t about to say that out loud. She peeked inside the oven at the bread. Golden crust. Perfect timing. She grabbed a potholder, then pulled the pans out and set them on the wire rack to cool.
Catherine handed Faith the first pie to place on the oven rack, then the second. “I think we make a gut team.”
“Me too.” Faith and her cousin worked more like sisters than Faith and Olivia ever had.
“Maybe Gideon will drop by and offer to wash dishes for us,” Catherine said, removing onions, mushrooms, and green and red peppers from the refrigerator.
“Wouldn’t count on it. He’s battling beetles in his orchard.” Faith sipped her coffee, her thoughts drifting to Gideon and how he’d stolen her breath when he told her he loved her. They had agreed not to court officially until after her baptism, and she now wished her baptism was this week instead of in October. But she could wait five more weeks.
