Healing Faith

by Jennyfer Browne

  We worked quietly for a while before I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Half expecting Nathan to burst in to yell at us for cleaning his house, I was relieved to see Emma and Hannah as they stepped in with a basket of vegetables from the garden. Emma offered me a bright smile and began to set the table.

  Bread sliced and vegetables cut, Fannie and I plated up sandwiches for everyone. I watched as she took two she had made and wrapped it carefully in a cloth. She smiled at my observation and nodded towards the window. I glanced out and watched as Jonah passed by the window in a large farm contraption behind his horse. Behind him walked a large man in a light blue shirt and straw hat. His dark curly hair peeked out from his hat.

  Fannie excused herself to bring the food to the men outside, leaving me with the three sisters. I was comfortable with Emma, and even Abigail. But Hannah watched me as I ate, her eyes calculating and unreadable. Emma on the other hand was full of energy and talked animatedly through lunch.

  "The sow finally gave birth. I always love seeing the little piglets before they grow up and become surly. One suckled my finger this morning thinking I was its mother," she said brightly.

  "Could be the disgusting color you are wearing today," Hannah muttered around her sandwich.

  Emma tutted and smoothed out her dress, admiring the soft muted pink. It wasn't so much pink as it was almost peach colored. And it brought out the color in her pale cheeks. I liked it, although I would never wear it. I preferred the darker dress I had on, an almost forest green in color. It reminded me of home, of the redwoods in California. You wouldn’t find trees like that in Iowa. Plenty of sun in Iowa; the shade seemed hard to come by. And although I was from California, where I grew up had fewer sunny days than one might expect. It remained cool for most of the year and sunny only in the mid summer when the fog didn’t obscure it.

  But the trees were something to behold.

  And the ocean.

  And the cool breeze.

  I missed home.

  I frowned into my sandwich at the revelation.

  I missed it to some degree.

  I wondered if my father was worried.

  Did he have people searching for me, or was he glad to be rid of me? He had trouble coming to terms with being a father too. He ignored me half the time and yelled at me for not doing something other times. It may have even taken him a few days to realize I was gone.

  I had left a note. Perhaps he had bloodhounds out on the search. Which reminded me of Sean again.

  How had he known where to find me?

  Only my dad would have been able to track my bankcard, which was why I had refused to use it after buying the bus ticket to Illinois.

  So if my dad had traced my card, he would have been the one to tell Sean.

  He had sent my nightmare to me, to come and fetch me.

  "You are frowning, Katherine,” Abigail said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Do you not feel well?”

  I put my sandwich down, nodding and trying to look unaffected.

  "I'm fine. Just the heat I think. I'm all right," I said softly, watching as the sisters eyed me carefully for a moment before there was a booming voice in the hall.

  I jumped in surprise.

  "It is no trouble, Fannie! I will look at your machine and get it running in no time!"

  In through the hall came the giant man from outside, his face clean-shaven and a wide smile on it as he approached our table.

  "Ladies," he said, grinning at Hannah for a moment longer the rest of us before his attention zeroed in on me.

  There was a playful mirth in the big man's eyes, the blue of them brilliant next to his bronzed skin. He was young I knew, older than I was but it was hard to tell with the men in this community. The sun and work seemed to make them more mature than any of the college guys Sean hung around with. He was certainly friendlier than most of the Amish I had met so far.

  He removed his hat and offered me a merry smile.

  "You must be Katherine. Jonah has mentioned you much this morning. Welcome," he said and extended his hand out towards me.

  I hesitated in taking it, sure that it was not Amish custom to shake hands based on my previous night’s attempt with Nathan. But apparently this man didn't abide by the usual stoic rules, judging by his broad grin and twinkling eyes. I took his hand tentatively, feeling the strength and roughness of his hand as it all but swallowed mine up.

  "Yes, I am Katherine. It’s nice to meet you," I said, leaving my sentence lingering since I really didn't know whom this hulk of a man was who was grinning down at me. I suddenly hoped Jonah had not just betrothed me to this man. Surely that was not how they worked.

  "This is Mark," Hannah explained, watching me like a lioness watches her pride.

  I slipped my hand from his and looked away from his amused gaze.

  "Yes I am. Mark Bowman. And soon to be happily wed to my dearest Hannah," he said, smiling adoringly at Hannah.

  I didn't know how to act. In many ways Hannah and Mark did not fit the image I had constructed of a good Amish couple. If anything they reminded me of the popular kids back at home. But Mark's smile changed the instant he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall and he straightened his stance before us. Like a sudden transformation, his manner was more polite as Jonah and Fannie walked back in.

  Fannie took in the scene and raised her eyebrow at Hannah, who feigned indifference, but I was sure my uncomfortable smile gave them away. Jonah clapped Mark on the back briskly and brushed past him to step out on the back kitchen porch.

  "Mark, son! Come help me with this machine. Show me how to keep this contraption working!" he called as he walked out.

  Mark offered us a glimmer of his mischievous grin before he followed Jonah out, the sound of metal and grunting soon following. I glanced back at the noise in confusion until Fannie explained.

  "It is our clothes washer. It stopped working a week ago. Mark seems to have a gift for anything mechanical. Let us hope he can fix it fast or we will be elbow deep in Nathan's underclothes!" she said and turned to wash the remaining dishes.

  She didn't see the color drain from my face at the mention of my elbows in Nathan's anything, but Emma and Hannah did. Emma's eyes grew wide for a moment before her smile overtook her, but Hannah simply raised her eyebrow and slipped out of the room silently. I watched her leave with a feeling of trepidation in my bones.

  I had no feelings for Nathan Fisher, regardless of how my stomach knotted at the mere thought of him. Regardless of the fluttering I felt over the poem I had found, or the mortification I felt at upsetting him, I’d be gone in a few days, searching for a place to live without the threat of Sean overshadowing me.

  I didn't belong here.

  "Come girls!" Fannie admonished. "Until they have that machine fixed, I am afraid it is the old fashioned way!"

  I cleaned the meal away quickly, Emma grabbing a pail of something that looked like powdered laundry soap as we made our way out to the porch where Nathan's clothes lay. Fannie had her hair pulled up tight under her head covering, her hand on her hip as she surveyed the workload.

  "Emma, fetch the wash tub from the barn and bring it here. Katherine and I will start hauling water. Abigail, you can sort the laundry," she said, and we split up on a mission.

  The heat of the day was at its worst, so Fannie found the only shady spot near the clothesline to wash. Several trips with buckets of water from a water pump and finally the large tub was filled. Fannie brought over the first bundle of clothes, what looked like a nicer pair of trousers and a light blue short-sleeved shirt. Under that were the undergarments. She passed the bundle to me and laughed when I looked at her, horrified.

  "Please tell me you have hand washed clothes in your world?" she asked, hands on her hips once more.

  "Yes, I have but," I stammered hopelessly.

  Plunging and scrubbing; I remembered that in some movie. Simple.

  "But?" she asked, that eyebrow rising once more.

  I
had not really intended on getting that close and personal to Nathan's underclothes. I swallowed and shook my head.

  "Nothing, Fannie. I'm happy to do it," I said and moved towards the basin as she talked me through how to properly wash their linens.

  "Take out his undershirt there, yes. It is thin, to help breathe on hot days and wick the moisture away. But it is delicate, so do not scrub too hard on the washboard. Otherwise we will be adding mending to our chores and we have far too much to do today as it is," she said and watched as I drew Nathan's lightweight undershirt out from the pile.

  I knelt by the washbasin, handling the material delicately with my fingers. Already fine wear marks were evident where Nathan must have scrubbed too hard to clean. The sleeveless shirt was paper thin, light as a feather in my hands, and soft. I realized, as I looked it over that he had not been wearing one in the morning. Nor had Fannie brought him one to change into. I glanced at the mound of clothes and realized that we must have taken all of his clothes with us to wash.

  How long did he go until he had to wash his own clothes, living alone and fending for himself? I shook my head and I plunged the garment into the water, taking the soap that Fannie offered me. I was bound and determined to get Nathan's clothes clean for him. I had made him uncomfortable; I had spilled on him, making his life more difficult than it already was. If there was something I could do to help out, I would. He only had himself to depend on and that was not enough.

  I scrubbed and rinsed out the soap, wringing it carefully to get most of the water out before Fannie swapped with me and gave me the next garment, what looked like linen shorts. I blinked for a moment before understanding settled in and quickly pushed the underpants into the water in a rush.

  I may have scrubbed a little longer, terrified to bring the pants up to the surface and have to look at them once more. But Fannie was pushing me along, and I knew there were many more in the pile. My random thoughts had to wonder if Nathan had not been wearing an undershirt, had he run out of underpants as well?

  "Katherine, I admire your enthusiasm, but you will wear yourself out with your scrubbing! You're flushed from working so diligently!" Fannie said, smiling behind her hand when my blush grew.

  I handed her the next garment in a rush, deciding that silence was a better friend to me than having to explain my embarrassment. It was silly really. I never got embarrassed over my father’s boxers, so why was I so unnerved by some random stranger’s undergarments?

  We worked like that for some time, Emma taking over when I was huffing over the basin and ended up nearly as wet as some of the clothes. Fannie had a large wicker basket that she had been laying the freshly washed clothes into; she handed me clothespins and set me on my way with Abigail to the clothesline, working together to hang the wet garments. This I knew, since our dryer at home was constantly on the fritz and no matter how many times Sean had come to fix it, it never seemed to work.

  I shuddered at the thought of Sean again and pinned Nathan's trousers with a little more zeal. I was here because of Sean, hiding like an outlaw, instead of comfortable at home. I thought again about whether I had made the right choice, how long I would stay, why I was even here when I could have simply asked Jonah to drop me off down the road so that I could hitchhike to the next big town and continue on my way to Illinois. I grew more frustrated with each article of clothing, with each new thought that made me question the very reason for hiding in this small Amish community.

  I was working on the last pair of trousers in the basket when Mark stepped off the porch to speak with Fannie. He glanced my way, at the vehement way I pinned and let out a soft cough. It was a laugh, but he was good at disguising it.

  "You seem to be quite focused on making sure the clothes stay on the line, Katherine," he said with a hint of mirth in his voice.

  I shook my head and remained silent. I continued with securing the clothes, putting the last of the undershirts on the line before turning to see Fannie smiling behind me. I wondered if she could possibly know why I was so flustered.

  "Come, Katherine. Mark has fixed our machine. Help Emma and Abigail to empty the water and I will show you how our machine works. We can do much more now and prepare supper while it washes the clothes," she said and made her way up to the porch with my empty basket.

  I walked over to the sisters, who were drawing buckets into the washtub and emptying out in the nearby row of bushes. I joined them and soon we had a fire brigade going that made us laugh at seeing who could be fastest. With the bin emptied, I helped Emma return it to the barn. Stepping in to the barn my eyes widened at the size of it.

  From the outside it was big of course, but on the inside, it seemed monstrous. The hayloft above seemed a good place to hide and read, with bright sun filtering through the beam and the window above it. There were enough stalls for the Berger's four horses and the dozen cows we had milked earlier. I hadn't noticed how big it was at five in the morning in the predawn light.

  Awake, it seemed like a cavern.

  And the men of this village had erected it by hand. It was simply amazing.

  "Come, Katherine! The day is wasting!" Emma said excitedly.

  For all their simplicity, I had to wonder why they didn't stop and enjoy what was around them. Maybe it was because they had so much to do. I stepped back out into the heat and followed Emma a little more slowly up the porch, stopping when I looked at the contraption Mark and Jonah had been working on. It was an old style washer, like what my grandmother had owned when I was little. I looked at Fannie questioningly.

  "It is also gas powered. We do have some conveniences," she explained with a smile. “Perhaps one day soon, Jonah will repair the water heater and main water line so that we can have hot water in the house again. There are just too many things to do.”

  I smiled and shook my head.

  “I won’t complain over this convenience,” I replied, earning a smile from Fannie. My fingers were already pruned up from all the washing so I was grateful for this added bit of technology to their simple ways.

  “Every little bit is a blessing,” she said simply.

  I helped Fannie put a load of bed sheets in the washtub, carrying yet more water from the water pump to the machine before she added soap and started the machine. It wasn't a complicated process, but it cleaned three times as many clothes as we had done in half the time. I was happy about that. The less I had to handle Nathan's underpants the better.

  We let the machine run and retreated back into the house to prepare supper. Since four thirty this morning, we had been busy. I was beginning to understand why they went to bed so early. I was exhausted, the last few days and the new lifestyle taking its toll on me. Fannie seemed to take pity and let me simply peel potatoes while she made the bread and Emma peeled away the beans. When we heard the washer finish on the porch, we left our food and worked as a team to get the laundry on the line and the second load in the wash. Between the clothes and the linens, Nathan only had a few loads. Fannie looked over the clothes as we hung them to dry, frowning at some of the holes and bad patches that covered some of his rougher clothes. It looked like we’d be mending his clothes as well as washing. I hoped they had a gas-powered sewing machine as well; my hand sewing would take days otherwise.

  Back in the kitchen, mountains of potatoes were peeled, as well as carrots and rutabaga. It seemed like more than what the family would eat, until Fannie reminded me of the Frolic coming up in the next few days. We would prepare most of the feast's dishes the day before so that the Frolic day would be easier. I sighed in relief when the last potato was peeled and I could retreat back to the clothesline. It was nearing sunset once more, and I thought about all I had seen in the last twenty-four hours. I smiled to myself as I folded the clothes, feeling a sense of utter accomplishment at all I had done in that time, even if I was dead on my feet.

  I had successfully milked a cow; made the fancy corn cakes I liked so much, cleaned a man's house, and had been elbow deep in his underwe
ar. I laughed softly at the thought of how embarrassed I had been over it when I heard someone come out of the back door.

  "Fannie, do you want me to separate the clothes that need mending or should I bring it all in and we can look after supper?" I called out. When she didn’t answer, I pushed the sheet aside to reveal familiar green eyes staring at me.

  Nathan surprised me with his closeness, so much so that I lurched back in fear, toppling backwards with a loud exclamation that should have sent Nathan running. Instead he reached out to my hand that I had thrown out to try to balance and pulled me back, propelling me again against him. I impacted with a hard thud, grasping onto him to steady myself. Every time I was around him I seemed to find myself buried in his chest.

  It wasn’t a bad thing.

  "Kate."

  My whispered name was on his lips was like a quiet request. It made me shiver against him. His hands moved to pull me away and right me once more, but only after lingering for just a little longer than was necessary along my hips. He provided a solid foundation as I stood there swaying from the headiness of having him near. Judging by his thundering heartbeat against my hand as I steadied myself against his chest, he had to have felt something.

  How and why I didn't understand. I was not his kind, and my mind made sure to remind me that I would be gone in a few days. This was only temporary.

  "Kate?" he asked softly, his voice melting my name. Meeting his eyes, I could see the uncertainty in them as he stood there before me.

  I smiled up at him and slowly pulled away, just far enough that I could see his face better. He licked at his lips and continued to stare down at me, frowning. But this time it didn't appear out of agitation, but concern. And still his hands cradled me by the elbows as if to protect me from falling once more. Hands that didn’t grip me hard, but with a care as if he were afraid he’d break me. He was nothing like I expected.

  He was a puzzle that needed figuring out.