He pulled his horse up short when he saw us. Wiping his mouth across the back of his arm, he moved to unhitch the horse, his face unreadable as he glanced our way again. I watched him as he worked, his nimble fingers tugged at the leather straps around the harness with practiced ease. He made quick work of the harness, drawing the great monstrous horse with him as he made his way towards us.
The horse shook his head and snorted, clearly upset at having his job stalled. I kept still behind Fannie, timid of both beast and owner as they came to a halt in front of us. Nathan took off his hat and clutched it to his chest, glancing at me briefly before looking down at the ground by my feet.
"Fannie, Abigail. A good morning to you," he murmured, his eyes flickering towards me again. "A good morning to you, Kate."
I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks at the sound of his voice saying my name. It was soft spoken, trembling in his chest. He wasn’t loud or brash like Sean. Instead his voice seemed to vibrate through me, the flutter in my stomach growing because of it. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but found my nerves had closed it up. Abigail saved me from my awkward silence.
"You know Katherine?" she asked, looking from him to me curiously. Fannie tilted her head to glance at me askance, a slight smirk on her lips when she noticed my blush darkening.
"Yes, yesterday before supper," he replied, still avoiding my eyes. "I nearly knocked her down as she came down your stairs. I am afraid I may have startled her."
Fannie was quiet as she glanced between the two of us before nodding and letting out a soft laugh.
"That should not have deterred you from staying for supper last night, Nathan. You are family. Your company was well missed last night," she replied and he dipped his head down again at her words, his ears turning bright red.
"I was just from the field. I would have made poor company. I had supper here. Thank you for thinking of me," he replied and looked up finally into her eyes.
Fannie tutted and motioned to the house.
"Will you not sit with us a moment? We brought you food to break the fast. You must be hungry? Come, put the horse to pasture and rinse the field off. Break fast with us," she said, not offering him a chance to refuse before she was turning and walking back to the house.
He let out a small noise that sounded suspiciously like an exasperated sigh before he frowned and put his hat back on, fidgeting with the horse’s bridle before he turned to the beast and mumbled a quiet command, letting him go. The horse snuffed against his chest, glancing at me for a second before flicking his head and turning towards the meager grass growing near the shady side of the barn.
Nathan hesitated in following Fannie and Abigail, gesturing with his long arm towards the house, wanting me to lead. I blinked out of my trance and willed my legs to move, mindful of the man beside me. His soft voice filled the air once more.
"I must apologize once more for yesterday, Kate. I did not mean to frighten you," he said, my name sending another tug into my gut.
"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. I should have been paying attention," I started to explain, only to have my feet tangle in my long skirt yet again.
I let out an exclamation; words I was sure the Amish didn't use and braced myself for a frontal impact into the dirt, seemingly in slow motion as I extended my arm holding the pitcher of milk to keep it from spilling. I clenched my eyes tight, but the ground never came. Instead, a different hardness caught me.
I felt hands around me once more, and the hot sturdy frame of the man beside me as he pulled me up and into him, jogging me a little hard. My body recoiled on instinct, so that the contents of the pitcher splashed up and drenched Nathan across the chest when I made to push away.
"I'm so sorry!" I wailed, mortified beyond measure that I had stumbled, and then worse, spilled the milk all over him when I reacted.
His eyes pulled together, lips pursed as he pulled away from me carefully. He flapped his shirt a bit to separate the wet fabric from his skin while I stood there clutching the near empty pitcher thoroughly embarrassed. He let out a soft breath of exasperation and shook his head, avoiding my eyes.
"It was not your fault, Kate. I should have assisted you across the wheel ruts. Just as well, this shirt needed laundering. I just have not had a moment to do so," he muttered and stepped away towards the water pump to rinse off, effectively leaving me to stand dumbly in the middle of his yard.
My humiliation only continued when I felt Fannie pulling me up the steps, a low chuckle escaping her lips. She had seen. She would know how out of sorts I was around her nephew.
"God did not grant you grace, Katherine. Busy yourself with Nathan's food and set it up on the table while I go fetch him another shirt. Abigail has gone to fetch a plate and glass for Nathan. It will be all right, child," she soothed, guiding me to the small table on the porch. I nodded and watched as she disappeared inside the house in search of clean clothes.
I had managed to ruin my second interaction with Nathan.
Why did he unnerve me so?
As if to answer, I looked off towards the water pump, only to feel my breath stutter once again. Standing there, hat tossed on the ground and his shirt open nearly to his navel, stood Nathan, glistening wet in the sunlight. He leaned over and worked the pump forcefully until the water sprang forth into the basin before him.
When it was nearly full, he stood taller and glanced around. I turned my head quickly, busying myself by pulling out the cakes I had made to keep my eyes distracted. But my periphery vision was excellent and soon my eyes were turning to watch him again.
He turned from me a bit, so that I could only see his profile. He slipped his suspenders from his shoulders and shrugged his shirt off, hanging it on the handle of the pump while he bent over to splash water over his face. The water bounced against him, soaking his hair around his temple until fat droplets fell back into the water basin. He splashed across his chest, slipping his hands up and under his arms to rinse off. His body shimmered in the bright sunlight, water pooling off of him as he splashed and scrubbed, the mud and dirt that had caked on him slipping away from his body to leave him much cleaner than I had yet seen him. His chest was pale, seeing little of the sun he worked in, but his arms and neck were tanned from his time in the field.
He dipped his head into the water, drawing it up in an arch of water that splayed out in a rainbow before him as he raised his head upwards and shook out the excess. Toned back muscles rippled as he tugged his fingers through his hair and across his face. Reaching for his soiled shirt he found the small remaining dry spot on it and rubbed his face dry, moving down to soak up the escaping water rivulets across his broad chest and down to his abdomen where a soft trail of dark hair disappeared into his unbelted trousers.
I heard footsteps behind me just as Nathan's head lifted and his eyes captured mine. I was frozen at being caught ogling the beautiful Amish man by my host, and by the man himself. I could see the turbulent green of his eyes from across the yard, could see the uncertainty flicker across them before those delicate brows pulled together and he turned away from me, his lips a thin tight line.
I looked away just as the door opened and Fannie walked past me down the stairs towards Nathan. I kept my eyes averted as she offered him a clean shirt, his soft thank you carrying in the air. My throat was dry and burned as I worked to control the uncontrollable fluttering in my middle. My face felt hot and my heart wouldn't stop its thunderous beating, even while I distracted myself by setting the table full of food. I held my breath when I heard his boots climb the steps, followed by Fannie.
Abigail came out of the house seconds later, and seemed to remain oblivious to the tension between Nathan and I as she set his dishes down on the table, smiling up at him in the hopes to make him do the same.
He was quiet as he settled into his chair, Fannie and Abigail sitting down beside him. I was forced to sit across from him, where he steadfastly refused to look. His lips were still set in a thin line,
opening long enough to take a bite before closing once more to chew silently. I sat ramrod straight before him, trying hard not to watch him eat, looking at anything but his face.
My eyes wandered to his long fingers as they carefully tore apart my corn cakes.
His shoulders as he hunched over his plate.
His sharp, angular jaw as he chewed, just starting to show signs of whiskers this early in the morning as if he hadn’t shaved yet.
His hair had begun to dry; haphazard now in how it sat against his head. My eyes traveled back up to his red lips as he took a drink of the last of the milk, leaving a white line across his lips until he brought his hand to them.
In no time at all, he was standing quickly, turning to Fannie.
"Thank you for this delicious meal. It is more than you should have to do, and I am grateful. I need to return to my work before the sun is much higher. I would like to be off of the field before mid-day," he murmured softly and moved to leave.
"Let us stay and tend to your house, Nathan. You should not have to tend to both," Fannie started, only to have Nathan shake his head and lift his hand abruptly.
I flinched on instinct at the movement.
My reaction didn't go unnoticed by either, but they said nothing.
Nathan continued.
"I could not impose on Elder Jonah. You have your home. Thank you again for the meal. Pleasant day, Fannie. Abigail," he said, pausing before he glanced at me with tight eyes.
“Katherine."
My name sounded wrong when he said it. His eyes took me in for just a moment, hesitating before he stepped off the porch and disappeared behind the barn. I didn't follow his progress around the barn because Abigail was watching me with those bright blue eyes that seemed to see everything. She glanced back at Nathan before dashing off towards the failing garden beside the house, the strange farewell quickly forgotten to her.
I busied myself with helping Fannie clean up until we were ready to depart. I turned to leave, anxious to get far away from Nathan Fisher, but Fannie stalled me with her hand at the top of the stairs. She glanced in the field, searching for signs of him before turning to me with determined eyes.
"He may not want to impose, but he is my sister's son and therefore my own son as she is gone. Come, we must to tend to his house while he is in the field," she whispered.
"But… but he said no," I stammered, uncomfortable with standing outside his house let alone stepping inside.
"Katherine," Fannie replied, her eyes holding mine hard. "He cannot have the experience to know what he needs. He has not yet taken his Rumspringa. As much as he believes himself to be a man, he is just a boy. He will have his house tended to," she said and pulled me towards the door.
I glanced back towards the field, Nathan still unseen as we entered the house. I looked around nervously, so much closer to a private side of this Amish man than I had ever thought possible. I was immediately taken in by the simplicity of Nathan's home.
Rooms sat quiet and still, with white cloth sheets over most of the furniture save a chair here, a small table there. It looked like our lake house when I was young, sheets covering furniture to repel the dust while it sat vacant. But this house was occupied, if by only one soul. My heart stuttered at the loneliness the house seemed to exude. Fannie stood silently for a moment, not in sad reflection as I did, but in thought about where to start first. I was still taking in the lonely chair and desk in the sitting room when she started to give her orders.
"Clothes, linens, anything that looks like it needs tending to that we can carry home, gather up and bring here," she said.
I gaped at her in surprise.
"Linens? I can't go into his bedroom! I don't even know which one!" I replied frightened, my stomach flailing at the thought of pulling sheets that his bare chest had laid upon.
Fannie nodded, pushing his dishes into my hands and pointed towards the kitchen.
"To the kitchen then. He has neglected that for far too long I am sure. And when you are done there, a rag to wipe up the dust in the sitting room. Go! We do not have the luxury of time!" she ordered and turned and swiftly disappeared up the stairs.
I all but flew at her command towards the back of the house, finding the kitchen easily. Nathan's home and the Berger's had a similar lay out, so I felt more comfortable than I thought I would have given that I was invading a stranger’s home, even if just to clean it.
It was still a stranger's home.
A stranger who made my heart hammer as he washed in front of a water pump.
I shook my head and concentrated on the kitchen before me.
By my father’s standards, it was spic and span. In my world or theirs it always seemed that a man could put up with disarray. But by my standards and apparently Fannie's, it was a mess. Breakfast or dinner plates were on the table, a used cast iron skillet left on the stove. Remnants of a loaf of bread had already attracted the ants, and they were devouring the bit of jam dropped on the edge of the table.
I rushed about, setting a pot to boil, as Fannie did when she needed hot water for washing the dishes, and wiped down anything I could as I waited for the water to heat up. By the time the water was steaming, I had swept the kitchen and main entryway, wiped down the table in the kitchen, and had made a small pile of dishtowels for the laundry.
I was amazed at how much information about their way of life I had retained in just an hour in Fannie's kitchen this morning, but soon I had the kitchen clean and I was making my way through the rest of the ground floor with a broom and a wet rag. When I made it to the sitting room I had every intention of keeping to the task and not letting curiosity win over.
That was my intention until my eyes flashed on a bit of paper lying on his small writing table. There was a pile of papers and journals lying on the table, strewn across it haphazardly. My fingers moved to straighten the pile up, in an effort to dust, until words leapt out from the top paper.
I forgot to breathe as I read the words on the page, written in neat script.
The colour of fresh turned earth
Gold spun wheat at harvest in the gentle breeze
The pureness of fresh drawn milk
The gentle bend of the elm tree
The melody of breaking day
The tranquility of a cloudless night
The moon as it dances across the starlit sky
The sun's kiss on the horizon at dusk
The depth of the universe.
These are but trials to what I see
In her perfection
The Lord must surely have dreamt as I didst
A haunting image in slumber of beauty beyond all nature
Kate.
I touched the note softly with my fingertips, reading the words once more to be sure I had read them properly. Nathan Fisher, the strange and beautiful Amish man to whom I had just met, had composed a poem.
About me.
Apparently I was not the only one haunted by dreams of a stranger.
Chapter 4
We made our way back to the Berger house before midday, a large bundle of clothing held between us as we walked. To have Nathan Fisher's clothes in my hands should have been exciting, if I didn't also know that these were the clothes he had sweat in, been spilled on, had slept in. And thoughts of plunging his soiled shirt into the water and scrubbing what remained of Nathan in his clothes made my face rage as my thoughts drifted to images of him bare-chested in front of the water pump trying to get clean.
"Are you all right, Katherine?" Fannie asked as we neared the house. "You are quite flushed."
I swallowed to wet my dry mouth and tried to smile.
"Just hot. I'm not used to wearing so many clothes," I said, only to feel my blush deepen.
It sounded like I walked around naked in my world.
“That is why I do not wear shoes!” Abigail exclaimed. “The earth is cool on my feet.”
I laughed and looked down at my sneakers. They hadn’t given me shoes to wear
under the dress.
“I don’t think I could handle the rocks and dirt,” I confessed.
Fannie laughed and guided me towards the back porch of the house, resting the mound of Nathan's clothes on the floor before turning to me.
"Our worlds are quite different I am sure. I forget you have modern conveniences to help you along. Although I might enjoy the air conditioning you have. That is something I wish sometimes," she said, her smile growing when she saw my own blossom.
"I do miss cool air," I replied and followed her into the house, which was much cooler than outside. I let out a relieved breath at the temperature difference.
"We will make midday meal before we tend to Nathan's clothes. He does not have much; it should be quick. I do not know what the boy has been doing for himself all this time. The shirt surely never gets fully clean if he is doing it," she replied and pulled out meats and cheese from a hidden cabinet near the back of the kitchen that I soon realized was a refrigerator.
“It is powered by propane,” she explained when she noticed my confused look. “We Amish have made some improvements to some of your devices, if only to make things easier.”
“Why not just use electricity?” I asked, truly curious. It seemed like cheating.
She smiled and nodded as if reading my mind.
“Electricity ties us to the world beyond,” she explained. “It shows a certain dependence on the outside world. But with propane, we are self-sufficient. It is strange I know. One day we might even think of solar power. But it is important not to tempt us with too many conveniences. You will never see a true Amish person with any of the diversions in your world that would only make our life more complicated. We have enough to do to keep us busy.”
I nodded as if I understood what she was saying. It still seemed like cheating to me if they had refrigerators and mixers that were simply adapted to do the work. What I really wished they had was good running hot water and a shower. I felt sweaty and dirty from my morning trek and it seemed like forever ago I had stood in a hot shower to scrub away the dirt.
Healing Faith Page 4
