Renewing Hope (In Your World #2)

by Jennyfer Browne

  He gestured to the wall he was working on. It seemed sturdy to me, but I was sure he knew best. He chuckled at my slow progress and kissed my cheek before picking up a few of the finished boards and another hammer. I watched as he ducked out of a small door near the back of his workshop area and watched his shadow as it made its way to the gaping hole in the wall.

  He pulled some long nails from the apron at his waist, placing them into his mouth with care while he lined up the first board. It was raining now and his cream shirt grew damp as he worked. The sound of the hammer striking the nail into the wood resonated in the barn, much like the thunder as it rumbled overhead. Nathan glanced up at the sky, grabbing another board and hammering with more determination.

  I could tell he was trying to work fast to beat the oncoming storm. I was sure having a hammer in his hands in the middle of a thunderstorm was not the best idea. As soon as the pile of wood ran low, I picked up what I could and handed it to him through the hole. His grin was awkward around the nails as he took the boards from my hands. In no time, only a small strip remained open, too small for anyone to slip through.

  He ducked back into the room, flinging the hammer and apron onto the table as he moved with purpose toward me. He grabbed me up into his wet arms, hands slipping up to my neck as his lips descended to capture mine.

  "Where are those strawberries?" he whispered against my lips, drawing me deeper into the barn.

  I mumbled something and let my hand wave in the general direction of where I thought I had laid the basket down. I felt the wall against my back, Nathan's damp body close to mine while his lips moved along my jaw, nipping and sucking a trail to my earlobe.

  "Grab the blanket and berries. You see this ladder?" he whispered, gesturing to the ladder I just then noticed was beside us. I nodded and he grinned.

  "It is much less visible up there and more comfortable than perhaps the stalls. I will be up in a moment," he said and kissed me quickly before pulling away to disappear down back toward the stalls.

  I grabbed the blanket and threw it over my shoulder, gripping the basket in one hand while trying to grip the wooden rungs of the ladder that led up to a loft. Trying to climb in a long skirt, with only one hand, was harder than it seemed. I felt hands beneath me, and looking down I found Nathan close behind me again. He had taken off his shirt, the undershirt slightly damp but clean. And it looked like he had rinsed off. He took the basket from my hand, allowing me to climb a little easier.

  I managed to get to the loft and climbed up onto the hay-covered floor, pulled the blanket from my shoulder and opened it up, the size of it more than enough for Nathan and me to relax upon. I had just laid it out when I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me down into the soft makeshift bed. He laid the berries down by my head and leaned in close, allowing his nose to skim across my jaw.

  "It will rain for some time yet," he whispered near my ear.

  I sighed and let him slip his hands along my ribs, his eyes merry as my hands drifted across his chest. My fingers slipped up along his suspenders, pulling them off his shoulders easily. He moaned against my neck and gripped me a little harder around the waist, tugging me to him.

  "I love the feel of you against me, Kate," he sighed and rolled us over, his hand slipping down to work my skirt up until it was bunched up along my thigh. We lay like that, kissing and exploring with our hands until Nathan's breath became a little heavier, his mouth a little needier. After a moment his hand gripped my hip and pressed his body tight to mine.

  "Kate," he whimpered and closed his eyes to the feel of us so close to one another.

  His mouth open, breathing in long tortured breaths, he moved against me. His fingers slid up my back until they twined into the hair at the base of my neck.

  "You have no idea what you do to me, Kate," he murmured against my temple.

  "I think I have some idea," I said, smiling while I took in the flush along his chest and throat.

  "It is so much more than that," he replied. "Although that is always amazing."

  His smile was bright as he looked up at me, letting his fingers trace along my collarbone and the neckline of my dress.

  "I cannot wait for you to be my wife, Kate. So much, I want to feel you against me every night, and wake up to you every morning," he whispered and pulled me in for another kiss that left me breathless.

  The sound of the thunder continued to echo around us while the air was laden with the fresh scent of rain. Nathan's soft whispered words were only interrupted when he would snatch a strawberry and feed it to me before popping another into his mouth with a joyous laugh that sounded throughout the loft.

  That sound was the best part of the rainy afternoon in the loft with Nathan. I would never get enough of Nathan Fisher.

  November needed to come.

  Soon.

  ~~~~~

  I rubbed at my eyes in the dim light. Looking down at the fabric, I sighed and set it aside, knowing I wasn't going to accomplish much more on the dress tonight. My mind wasn't on seams and hems and gathering of fabric.

  It was on Nathan.

  He had missed supper so that he could help Benjamin. Fannie and I both had been disappointed that they had not come. But with the continued rain and the need to move Benjamin's belongings out of his rented room, there was little to be done for it. I sat on the bench seat by the window, looking out as the occasional lightning flash lit up his hill and I wondered what they were doing.

  It had been two weeks since Benjamin agreed to stay with Nathan. It had taken him almost that long to finally switch back into his Amish clothes for good. With each night spent at supper with the Bergers, we saw a little more of Benjamin open up to our way of life.

  Nathan smiled more, Benjamin helped more, and everything seemed to be going well.

  On nights like this, when the rain forced us to retreat into the house instead of on our walks, Benjamin sat with us and reviewed what we were learning in our classes. Alone, my mind drifted to other things.

  Like the soft words Nathan would murmur against my ear whenever we were alone. Or his voice when he recited some of his poems from my journal. I pulled out my journal and smiled at the page I turned to. Every word from Nathan's mind was something to savor.

  Simple joy

  In seeing your smile

  Delighted breath

  In catching your scent on the breeze.

  Contented sigh

  Having you in my arms.

  Mirthful

  That I have you.

  My Angel.

  My Kate.

  I smiled and turned the page, my eyes tearing up at the desperation of the next passage.

  Lost.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  Gone.

  Everything I have.

  I will risk.

  To find you.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  My everything.

  My Kate.

  The magnitude of his affection was limitless. How had he been able to write while I was away? I didn't know, but I cherished every word. It solidified his dedication to me. How did I show him my dedication?

  I smiled and thought on every time he smiled and laughed now, having changed so much since my arrival. Even through the worst of our time together, he had been able to commit to us. And I had been able to make him smile again and again.

  Perhaps I did show him how much I cared.

  In everything I did, I proved my love for him. As we continued to progress through time slowly, I dug into my studies, wanting so much to see him smile every day. It didn’t always mean I understood my lessons. Sometimes, the Amish ways baffled me just as much as they reassured me. There was many a night that I sat with Nathan and Benjamin and tried to be patient while they explained things to me.

  "It is something of a quiet understanding, Katherine," Benjamin said, offering a consoling smile my frowning face.

  "It's just," I said, sighing in exasperation at the latest
baptism class. "If you are supposed to practice what the Bishop and the Elders say is the law, but the Bible says something else, isn't that going against God?"

  Nathan and Benjamin both sat, silent, and thought hard on my question.

  Our class that evening had been about following the Ordnung and the Elder's orders. But some of what they discussed tonight went against what I thought the Bible stated. It was confusing when they told us one thing but the Book said another. And I wasn't about to vocally question the Bishop, although I could tell as he watched me every class, he expected me to say something.

  To be willful.

  But I had been the exact opposite. I had been quiet and reserved, modest even, at least when we were in public. But the double standards of their teachings‚ and seeing it in how the Bishop acted, was frustrating. He didn't practice what he preached at all.

  "It is complicated, Kate," Nathan started, looking at Benjamin for help.

  I sighed and knew I wouldn't get much out of them for this section of the classes.

  Just nod and agree, Kate. You'll figure it out.

  So I did. I nodded and smiled as if I understood their complicated ways. After all, did I understand or accept everything I had been taught in my old life? There were some battles you just did not fight.

  Nathan offered a timid smile and leaned back in his chair to stretch. We had been discussing everything we had learned for some time now. Benjamin watched me while I cleared away the glasses and came back to sit, pulling out my Bible. We were quiet for a time, Nathan and Benjamin both watching me. When I couldn't take the scrutiny any longer, I lifted my eyes from the Ephesians passage to regard Nathan expectantly. He chuckled and tugged on his ear.

  "It is always interesting to watch you read," he whispered.

  "Why?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious that perhaps I mouthed the words while I read.

  It was difficult to understand some of the passages without rereading many times.

  "You seem very determined to understand what it is you read," Benjamin replied, grinning.

  I blushed and looked back down at the book in my hands.

  "I'm a little behind. You've had years to learn, I have weeks. You guys know it better than I do," I whispered.

  "I think you know more than you realize," Benjamin replied and glanced over at Nathan, a silent conversation between the two of them.

  "How do you mean?" I asked, curious.

  It was Benjamin's turn to blush.

  "I just mean that you have a pure spirit. It seems to come naturally to you. You seem to see the Spirit in much of what you do. More so than I do," he murmured.

  "I don't think that's true," I said, touching his hand as it sat on the table.

  He shrugged, suddenly shy.

  "No, really, Benjamin," I continued. "You see how it applies to the community. I see absolutes, and you see the grey of it. You explain it much better than I could. You've experienced so much, and know how to apply it to live the way one should. I am still causing people to question my being here."

  I frowned at the last.

  The Bishop in particular continued to have his doubts.

  "I think the opinion of you is far higher than you figure," Benjamin said. "You have better standing than I do at the moment in this community."

  "I doubt that, Benjamin. You are missed," I whispered and patted him on the hand again, smiling.

  He let out a soft breath and eyed me for a moment, like a scared animal afraid that I might swat at him. I had to wonder again just how bad his fight with his father had been. His mother wanted him home. His sister missed him. Surely the rest of the community missed their future Bishop as well.

  “I may be missed but that does not change that I am outcast,” he said after a moment in silence.

  Nathan pursed his lips and stared at his friend.

  “You were never shunned, Benjamin,” he said and shook his head to silence Benjamin’s argument to the contrary. “Your father sees you as outcast, but you are not truly shunned, otherwise you would not be sitting here with us.”

  I looked from one to the other, trying to gauge the conversation. It wasn’t until Nathan slapped his friend on the back that I relaxed.

  “I will never understand shunning,” I muttered and looked back into my book.

  “It is not an easy thing to understand,” Nathan started and looked to Benjamin to pick up the conversation.

  “We shun to keep the community free of the blight that the English world would force upon us by disobeying the rules of our Ordnung,” Benjamin said, an air to his voice not unlike his father’s.

  I wondered how many times he had heard it recited to him.

  “What happened to forgiving of transgressions?” I countered.

  “Sometimes it is done, when the offender has properly repented,” Benjamin replied and looked away from my searching eyes.

  “That doesn’t seem so hard,” I challenged.

  “It is harder than many understand,” Benjamin countered, brows furrowed.

  Nathan cleared his throat and nodded toward the door, signaling it was time to go.

  I watched as they walked up the hill together, heads pulled low and jackets tight as the rain fell. They disappeared and I closed the door, deep in thought.

  I didn’t understand shunning, really. Both Benjamin and Nathan tried to explain it to me, but the idea of it baffled me when looking at the context of Amish life. Everything I had learned and read about my new life seemed to contradict the idea of Shunning.

  The Amish life was about forgiveness.

  Loving one’s family.

  Never being proud.

  So why did Bishop Yoder remain so stubborn about his son? Why had he not forgiven Benjamin of his transgressions while living in the English world, and accept his son’s desire to come home, to the Amish life?

  Both had too much pride to admit their own faults, and both held onto the belief that their reasoning was right. The Bishop refused to accept that his son was a good and honest man, made for this life, but had simply strayed. Benjamin wanted to come home, but refused to believe that what he had done should matter. And if I had learned anything in my baptismal classes, it was that really, what he had done did not matter in retrospect. He had yet to be baptized and accept the Way. In true Amish faith, he would be washed of those past sins upon his baptism.

  If only the Bishop could forgive.

  We had a few weeks of baptism classes left and the Bishop continued to eye me with contempt. Benjamin still avoided integrating back into the community. He would close himself off at the mention of the coming baptism Sermon for Emma and John.

  This week I had told him his mother was more distant than usual. I thought perhaps she was ill. Naomi wouldn't say anything, and I couldn't ask the Bishop. Word from the women in the kitchen for Sermon was that she was worse than ever.

  Benjamin wouldn't talk about it and I didn't push. I understood his fears. He was afraid of being cast out, by more than simply his father. I understood that feeling because I saw the eyes of the community on me wherever I went, whether it was with Nathan in his courting buggy, or with the Bergers at the weddings that had begun with the start of autumn. People watched me and spoke in hushed tones after I had passed. I don't think many knew I understood some of their language, for they spoke to one another in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  Things I heard from some made my spirits fall. I tried to keep my disappointment from Nathan, but he always saw through me. Or maybe he heard those same words following after me.

  English infiltrator.

  A danger to the Way.

  Temptress.

  People like Sarah Jensen and Naomi Yoder were a comfort to my self-confidence and I was welcomed again and again at gatherings, but just one disparaging whisper clouded my determination, regardless of Nathan's assurances. Time was running out.

  If we were baptized before the yearly Council met, then things would change even more.

  The Bishop would vote i
n Nathan to ultimately replace him. Perhaps he saw it as a way to keep me from marrying Nathan. He knew I would be looked down upon, and that the stress could be too much. The community might not allow me to even be baptized, even after all the work I had done to learn. They might try and coerce Nathan to not marry me. It seemed as though all the forces were set against us.

  I shook my head with a resolute determination. We would see ourselves through this winter, together. I would show the doubters that I cared about this community as much as they did.

  CHAPTER 9

  With the fall came more baking and a push to sell our goods to the markets before winter fell on us, limiting our means of making money while the snow and cold kept us close to home. I had learned of the Amish market in Friendship, a monthly market that Fannie prepared for eagerly by baking and cooking for long hours. Hannah had made a name for herself with her quilts, enough to develop a nice little business to help support Mark and herself.

  Fannie thought it would be good for me to help this time since my pies had begun to have quite the reputation amongst our own community. What better way to prove oneself than through one’s baking?

  So for the last few days, we had baked nonstop.

  "Katherine, can you pull down the bag of sugar in the pantry? We have run out in here," Fannie called from the kitchen.

  I set the box of cornstarch down and looked for the sugar. Finally looking at the upper shelves, I saw the bag of sugar and reached to get it. It was just out of my fingers reach. On tippy toes I could just grab the edge of the bag with two fingers. I strained a little higher, dancing on my toes when the bag slipped some in my fingers.

  I settled down and was just about to reach again when a hard thud hit me on the head, and then the fine shower of tiny granules fell over me like an avalanche. I let out a screech and waved at the pouring mass, trying to reach up to stop it. I felt someone behind me, felt the waterfall of sugar cease, and struggled to wipe my eyes when I heard a soft chuckling near me.

  "Katherine, I think perhaps we should restrict you to the lower shelves."