"I'm okay. Good evening, Nathan,” I said trying to wipe the worry from his face. He pulled away a bit more and his face softened.
"Pleasant evening, Kate. I am sorry I startled you," he murmured, still holding me. “Again.”
I noticed the slight flicker of amusement playing in his tremulous smile.
"You didn't startle me," I replied, swallowing hard when his smile widened at my words.
It was like a million suns had exploded in my stomach. He was beautiful when he smiled.
"So you make it a habit of falling around me then?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
I laughed quietly and shrugged.
"I’m not used to the skirt. It’s too long," I replied and tugged up at the long material, revealing my tennis shoes underneath.
"I see," he murmured and pulled away from me, glancing towards the porch before returning his gaze back to me, bashful. His hands, now free of me, moved to his suspenders as if determined not to touch me again. Instantly I saw the change in him.
Guarded. Distancing.
What had I done?
He looked at the pile of clothes in the basket and then at the remaining linens on the line and shook his head, that brow puckering again in agitation. The smile that had lit up his face was gone faster than it had appeared. He finally let out a breath and looked back at me in resignation.
"I did not wish Fannie to tend to me. Nor you, Kate. I am sorry if she involved you. I can take care of myself," he said softly, his eyes now downturned as if embarrassed.
I stepped a little closer to him.
"I didn't mind. I learned a lot today and it was really no trouble, Nathan. We all need help. You shouldn't have to do it alone."
His frown grew and he took a measured step away, his hands gripping the leather of his suspenders tight.
"I am not yours to tend to, Kate. I do fine on my own. Fannie worries, but she has her own house to worry over. I thank you for your attention, but I wish you had not," he said and bent over to retrieve the basket.
"Nathan," I started, but his eyes stopped me. They held more than embarrassment, they seemed almost angry.
"Pleasant evening, Katherine. You have no need to be burdened by me. Good night," he said and strode away towards his house, the heavy basket in his arms forcing him to struggle up the hill.
I stood there and watched his broad back once more as it retreated from me, so similar to the night before. I didn't know what I had done to upset him, but once again I had turned him away. He disappeared over the hill and I felt the sadness at his leaving. I didn't know what it was, but whenever he was near, I felt the pull of something comforting. Safe even, despite his acrid tone to me a moment ago.
I shook my head and forcefully pulled down the sheets that remained, folding them quickly before striding back into the house and wanting to forget all about Nathan Fisher. He was nothing to me. I needed to forget the Amish man.
Regardless of his poem.
Regardless of the way he stared at me.
I would still leave.
It was better this way.
Chapter 5
"Nathan was here and he left?" Fannie asked, surprise in her face.
I simply nodded.
"What did he say? This is the second night that he has not come for supper! I do not understand what is amiss with that boy!" she exclaimed and turned towards the kitchen porch as if to leave.
"Fannie, my lovely wife, he is his own man. If he wishes to starve that is his own right. I am sure he is upset that you took him in order. Give him a day or two to bury his pride. He will return," Jonah said softly from the head of the table.
She paused in the doorway, looking out towards Nathan's farm before turning back in resignation. Maybe it was the lighting in the room, but her eyes looked glassier than usual. I didn't have the courage to tell them that I was the reason he didn't want to stay for supper. Perhaps it was selfish of me to want to hide the fact that he was troubled to be around me.
We sat and ate a quiet meal, Fannie watching Jonah as if to have a silent conversation across the table. Even Abigail was quiet, glancing at me occasionally before returning to her meal. I was hungry, my body wanted sustenance, but I picked at my meal, eating little while my stomach churned. When the meal was finished, we cleared away the dishes and made quick work of putting the food away for the next day. I fought my yawns behind my hand until Jonah finally announced the end of the day, just as he had the day before.
"A good day by God's graces! Let us to bed, tomorrow will be a busy day!" he said, following us up the stairs.
Emma closed the door quietly and turned to smile at me.
"You have had a busy day, Katherine. If I did not know better, I would say you are taking to our Way better than most. You may even find yourself happy here," she said and winked at me before she started her ritual of disrobing.
Down to my shift, I climbed into bed gratefully and yawned once more. Abigail was already asleep in her bed, drifting off immediately just as she had the night before. Emma slipped in quickly and set the candle into a small lantern holder, smiling as she settled in next to me. I waited quietly for her to extinguish the candle so that we could fall asleep. Instead, she continued to watch me, fingering the casing of her pillow as I shifted under her scrutiny.
"Nathan is an interesting boy," she started. Already I could feel my stomach knot just at his name.
"I guess," I whispered, trying to sound disinterested. Even I could hear the lame attempt.
She shifted in the bed, her eyes thoughtful.
"My mother told you about what happened to his family?"
I nodded.
"Nathan feels guilty over it."
I frowned at her statement and propped my head up on my elbow to regard her better in the dim light.
“Why does he feel guilty, he didn't give them the flu, did he?" I asked.
She shook her head and sighed, a sad faraway look on her face.
"No, he did not. But he was away when they became ill. He was in Missouri with the Bishop on a missionary trip for our community. Nathan was always concerned with others. It was said that he could easily be voted in as a minister, if not chosen by God to become Bishop, he was that driven to do God’s work. When he received word of his family's health, he rushed back, only to return to his mother's deathbed. The rest of the family had died the day before. He was left to take over the farm, despite my father's assurance that our family would take care of it for him while he found himself during his Rumspringa," she explained, her voice a low whisper, as if Nathan's story was the most private secret of the community.
"What is Rumspringa?"
"The Rumspringa is a time when our youth is allowed to explore themselves, to see if the way of the Amish is the right path,” she explained. “We come of age at sixteen, and from then, we are to make our way in the world, see for ourselves what is right for our destiny. Some go out into your world, to see how the English live, and some stay here to openly court the one they wish to make a life with. Ultimately most return and are reborn into our faith."
"So you get to choose this life?" I asked, only to put my hand over my mouth again at how insensitive that truly sounded. Emma only smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Katherine. Do not be embarrassed. I can understand from an outsider's point of view how it can be surprising that more do not remain in your world, with all its diversions and temptations. You have only seen the small part of our lives. But we are all joined with a purpose, to live life fully and enjoy the benefits of what God has given us. Rumspringa allows us to see not only your life, but what we have to offer, and to respect our lifestyle that much more," she replied.
I thought about it for a moment and could see their logic. I supposed college was our equivalent to their Rumspringa. We left home to find ourselves. To experiment with that which was unknown but tantalizing to try. Some found their way, some did not. But ultimately, we found our place in the world. Not that I had.
/> Yet.
Maybe this experience of running away and coming to live with the Amish was my Rumspringa in a sense, my place to figure out who I was. It was a way to find what I needed. Peculiar that I had found them by chance, and discovered more about their simple life and how it drew me in. I was learning more about myself every moment I spent with the Amish.
What an alarming revelation that I found myself here.
Emma might be right, in that I could possibly find happiness in this lifestyle.
But I had only been here a day. Nathan had been Amish his whole life.
"And Nathan hasn't done this Rumspringa yet?" I asked, thinking again about how much Nathan had on his shoulders, and how he had lost his chance at finding who he was. He felt some sense of responsibility that I doubted many men his age even had a clue about.
Emma shook her head and sighed again.
"He had decided long ago that he would forgo searching the outside when he chose to follow God’s Word. He would have taken the baptismal classes this last spring. Everything changed when his family died. He turned his back on everything. The church, his chance to explore the world, everything. My father and mother worry for him in that he is a proud person, even if we do not accept pride in our hearts. He is determined to succeed. He would rather starve than admit he is in need. I am sure he is hungry tonight. Your meal this morning is the only meal he has eaten in a couple days, I am sure," she said softly, her dark eyes penetrating mine.
If I didn't feel guilty before, I certainly did after her observation. I had made Nathan uncomfortable, I knew. So uncomfortable that he would willingly starve than sit near me at a meal. I couldn't sleep peacefully while he sat in that large house, alone with a solitary table and chair and a bed, and nothing else. Not while he was hungry and I was full.
His suffering only made me feel worse.
"Did you know that you can follow the moon to his house? I did so many times at night to play with his sister when our parents slept. It is not difficult to find.”
I looked warily into Emma's eyes, her thoughts unreadable as she waited for me to respond. I blinked at the thought that played in my head.
She wasn't suggesting I go there, was she?
"Mother and Father sleep soundly, but the back porch squeaks."
I opened my mouth to ask her if she meant what I thought she was saying when she smiled and yawned widely.
"Goodnight, Katherine. I will leave the lantern in case you feel the need to get a drink of water from the kitchen," she said and closed her eyes, a sly smile on her face.
I sat there in the semi dark for several minutes, trying to make up my mind as to whether I should do as she suggested. I waited until her breath slowed before slipping out of bed quietly. I scrambled to get my clothes back on, leaving my shoes off as I snuck downstairs into the kitchen; the only light that of the little candle lantern of Emma's. I put my shoes on in silence, tiptoeing towards the refrigerator. On a shelf, right in front, sat a large, cloth-covered plate with a meal large enough for a growing young man. I glanced towards the staircase, half suspecting Fannie to appear behind me, fully clothed and preparing to do the same thing I was about to do.
No one materialized out of the dark, and as I quietly made my way out through the front door, and down the porch steps, still no one came after me. With the lantern in one hand, and the moon as my guide I made my way towards the field I had watched Nathan disappear into twice now. I had no frame of reference in the dark, and that scared me.
The idea that I could be walking in the wrong direction, a plate of food that coyotes would fight for, only to get hopelessly lost made me question the sanity of my actions. The fact that Nathan had gone without food pushed me forward. He might be a stranger to me, but he suffered because of me. Perhaps I had a little too much pride as well. I wouldn’t let him suffer on my account. It was in my nature to make sure I took care of those that needed it.
The breeze fluttered through the corn, the sheaths making an eerie rasping sound as I passed. I could make out the lay of the land as I crested the low rising hill, and I breathed a little easier when I saw the large white house at the bottom, its white siding seeming to glow in the near full moon. The entire hillside was bathed in its cool blue brilliance, painting an almost alien landscape.
I made my way down the hill, fully intending to simply leave the plate by the doorstep, to knock and run for my life. But as I neared the house, I noticed a warm glow coming from the front room, the same room that held Nathan's solitary table and chair. My heart sped up at the thought of him writing another poem. Although I had no idea what it might be about, given the course of events during the day, I hoped that perhaps it might be about me.
Curiosity is a wicked thing.
Perhaps the Amish would be able to recite a passage regarding one's downfall from curiosity. I could barely remember my purpose for coming as I slipped in silence onto his porch and to the nearby window. I felt like a peeping Tom, but the desire to see Nathan, at his desk and writing beat down any moral conflict I had over spying into his private life. I closed my eyes in preparation and let out a calming breath.
I didn't realize the window was open. My eyes opened to Nathan at his table, pen poised over the paper, looking towards the window I hid behind. Dark, lonely eyes locked on mine for a second before I stumbled aside and pressed myself against the sidewall, my heart racing at being caught.
I wanted to flee.
Run. Run away. Again. But my feet were rooted to the floor of Nathan's porch.
Even when the door opened and Nathan stood there, silhouetted in the soft candlelight from his house, I could not run. He was clothed in one of the sleeveless undershirts I had washed for him and soft grey trousers, the suspenders dangling at his hips. His strong shoulders were framed in the doorway, a long graceful arm holding the battered screen door open. The candlelight seemed to set his face in fiery relief, his stubble glowing along his strong jaw. He let out a soft breath, just a whisper.
"Kate."
The energy in the air changed dramatically, from a soft breeze to a crackle of electricity that seemed to exist only between Nathan and me. I swallowed as I watched him take a step towards me, his hands moving to his mouth, rubbing the rough golden stubble around his lips. Still my feet would not move. A dangerous warming filled my gut, expanding through my body as he took another tentative step towards me.
I knew I should run.
He was a stranger.
I was alone.
Another step and the charge heightened so that the hairs at the base of my scalp now tingled.
He could overpower me so easily.
No one knew I was here, except Emma who was surely asleep by now.
"What are you doing here, Kate? It is late," he asked, his voice barely audible over the rushing blood in my ears.
Run. Flee. Another step.
Those troubled, dark eyes watching me warily, the fear I felt inside mirrored in the insecurity I could see in his. What was he afraid of?
"You must be hungry," I whispered, the only words I could think of. It was the reason I was there.
Nathan licked at his lips, sucking the bottom lip into his mouth for a moment as his eyes wandered down to the covered plate in my trembling hand. He swallowed hard and cast his eyes back up to mine, more guarded as he watched me shift on my feet before him.
"It is not wise to be out this late, Kate. Does Elder Jonah know you are here?" he asked, and I could see the renewed turmoil in his eyes.
I swallowed and shook my head slowly, pushing myself back against the side of the porch as he took another tentative step towards me in the dark. I could feel my heart racing, and my breath struggled under his gaze.
"You could get lost in the dark, Kate. How did you find your way?" he whispered, taking another slow step so that he was a mere foot or so from me. His eyes continued to hold me there, unable to move, or to think. I tried to calm my breaths, to will myself to be brave.
He p
aused before me, his eyes holding me in place with the raging uncertainty swirling in them. He really was afraid.
Of me?
Or himself.
Run.
"The moon," I stammered, feeling the heat of him with another slow step.
So close.
His breath tickled my forehead and blew at the stray hairs that had come loose from under my head covering. I continued to hold his stare until he leaned in, his eyes closing as his head dipped slightly. My eyes fluttered closed at the intense heat I felt against my temple when he sighed out softly, stirring the air around me. I let my breath out slowly, only to inhale once more to the scent of fresh soap and the scent of him. The soap I recognized as what I had scrubbed his shirt with, but his scent was new. Clean, and yet a hint of musk of a man that worked hard. Less intense from every other time he had come close, but definitely familiar.
Nathan.
My eyes opened to the soft pull of the plate from my hands, finding Nathan's eyes downcast as he regarded the meal before him. He licked his lips again in anticipation, swallowing as if he were salivating. He had to be starved. The amount of work he did in the day could not be maintained by breakfast alone. And as he stood there, in only his undershirt and loose trousers, I could see the effects of his struggling lifestyle.
His cheeks were a little thinner than they should have been, tightly hewn muscles along his shoulders and arms, not a measure of fat on him to speak of. He was trim and solid, all his energy going towards the muscles necessary to work on his farm, but not an ounce more. He could have been broader by the look of his wide shoulders, but his modest living had forbid him that luxury. He could easily waste away in the matter of weeks, if left to continue to struggle on his own.
He took a step back, fingering the cloth that covered his meal hesitantly; as if afraid to take the offering I gave him. The indecisiveness appeared once more on his face, his mind clearly battling on what to do. Would he deny it simply because I had brought it to him?
"I should get back," I whispered, stepping to the side to edge my way past him. My courage was failing and I wanted to be gone from the strange pull he had on me.
Healing Faith Page 6
