“You will be able to name this one yourself.”
She glanced shyly in his direction. “Perhaps I will give you the honor.”
He stroked his beard as he considered her offer. “I could name it for its mother. Shmakkich.”
“Smelly? I will not call my new baby Smelly.”
“Then you must find a better name yourself for that is my only suggestion.” He handed her his empty glass.
She took it without hesitation. Her eyes crinkled with humor. “I did not think you would shirk from a difficult task.”
“A challenge, is it? Very well, I shall name it Stinky.”
“Nee.” She shook her head.
“Foul Breath.”
Faith giggled. “Nee. I will not call any creature Foul Breath. If that’s the best you can do, it will remain nameless.”
Her smile was back and Adrian was content. “I shall give it some more consideration. Good night, Faith Martin.”
“Guten nacht, Adrian.”
He started toward home but stopped a few yards away. Turning around, he called out, “What about Skunk?”
“Nee! That’s the worst name ever.”
“But what if it’s black with a white stripe down its back?”
“Not even then. Be off with you, foolish fellow.” She shooed him away with one hand, but she was smiling.
It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still smiling, too.
Faith guided Copper onto the highway and headed toward Hope Springs. The horse kept to a brisk trot, but it wasn’t long before several cars were backed up behind Faith’s buggy waiting to pass her on the next open stretch of road. The driver of the first car that went around her gave her a friendly wave. The second car drew alongside but didn’t pass. When Faith glanced their way, she saw the passenger had the window rolled down and was aiming the camera in her direction.
Faith quickly turned her face away. No matter which Amish community she lived in, it was always the same. There were always a few tourists who just had to snap a photograph of an Amish person. They never seemed to realize it was rude.
The second car sped away, and Faith was free to enjoy the green rolling countryside. It was easy to see how fertile the land was as she passed farm after farm with tall cornfields and fat cattle grazing near the roadside.
The outskirts of Hope Springs came into view after several miles. Faith had no trouble finding her way to the fabric store. She pulled Copper to a stop in the parking lot beside three other buggies.
As soon as she pushed open the front door of Needles and Pins, she was greeted with the scent of a floral and vanilla potpourri and the sound of chimes. The store was small, but it was crammed from floor to ceiling with bolts of fabric in every color. At the rear of the store a white-haired woman stood behind the counter. She looked up from her work and smiled in greeting.
“Welcome to Needles and Pins. Is there something I can help you with?”
Faith worked to quell the nervousness making her stomach queasy. She needed to find a market for her work as soon as possible. One of the things Kyle’s social worker would be looking at was her financial situation. Faith needed proof that she earned enough to care for a child. Sending up a quick prayer, she said, “I’m looking for Janet.”
“Then look no further. I’m she.”
Faith approached the counter. After introducing herself, she opened her bag and pulled out a sample of her yarn. “Would you be interested in purchasing some hand-spun baby alpaca yarn?”
“I might be.” Janet took the skein to examine closely.
“The black color is natural. It’s from one of my crias.”
Janet looked up in surprise. “You raise your own alpacas?”
“Ja, I have ten animals. Some are white, I have one black, several grays and two that are butternut-brown. I can die the wool for you if you have customers that want a particular color. It’s very soft yarn and very strong.” Faith forced herself to stop babbling.
Running her hand over the skein, Janet said, “I can see this is quality work, Mrs. Martin. I would be interested in buying all you have in black and dark gray. I’m not sure about the other colors. Perhaps I will take a few of them and see how they sell.”
Faith struggled to hide her excitement. She had prayed to make a big sale today, and her prayers were being answered.
Janet continued, “If you are interested, I could post your yarn for sale on my website. I get a fair number of internet orders.”
“That would be goot, danki.” This was better yet.
Faith sorted her yarns for Janet and pocketed the money with a happy heart. She was preparing to leave when Sarah came out from the back room. Smiling, Sarah came forward carrying several large bolts of powder-blue material. “Faith, how are you? Have you brought in your yarn?”
“Ja. Janet was kind enough to purchase several dozen skeins. If they sell well, she will buy more.”
Sarah leaned close. “I will do my best to steer our customers toward them.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I have been instructed by Nettie Sutter to invite you to our widow’s meeting on Friday night.”
Such meetings were common in Amish communities where widows sought to remain active and productive members of the community even into old age. Faith had been a member of such a group in her last church district.
As much as she wanted to say yes, Faith didn’t have time to devote to social visits. “Perhaps I can join you when I’ve settled in.”
“Fair enough. We are finishing two quilts that will be auctioned off next month. We help support an orphanage in Haiti with the money we raise and we give to the church to help our members who have medical bills and such. Several times a year we hold a large auction. Some of the women in our church have started a co-op to help members market and sell their work.”
“I’m not much of a hand at quilting,” Faith admitted.
“Don’t worry, we will find something for you to do. We meet at the home of Naomi Wadler. Her daughter and son-inlaw run the Wadler Inn and Shoofly Pie Café. You passed by it on your way in town. Naomi’s home is behind the inn.”
Faith remembered the Swiss-chalet-style inn at the edge of town. “What time are the meetings held?”
“Five o’clock.”
“I look forward to the day I can meet with you.”
“Wonderful. Have you decided to join our church?”
“I plan to ask the bishop about it soon.”
“I must warn you that once you are accepted, you will be fair game as far as Adrian’s mother is concerned.”
Perplexed, Faith asked, “Why do I need a warning about his mother?”
“Aenti Linda fancies herself a matchmaker. Adrian and I are her only current failures. I admit she does have a knack for putting the right people together. You will provide her a new challenge. Hopefully, I can get a break from chance meetings and uncomfortable suppers at her house where I feel like a prize hen on display.”
Faith shook her head. “She may match-make all she wants. I have no intention of marrying again.”
“That is exactly what Adrian says.”
Faith began to rearrange the yarns left in her basket. “It is a shame he feels that way. He would make a good husband.”
“He’s a handsome fellow, I’ll give him that.”
“He’s much more than that. He’s kind and generous, strong and hardworking. He’s everything a woman could desire in a mate.”
As soon as she realized she was rambling, Faith looked up in embarrassment. Sarah stared back with a look of compassion on her face.
Faith wanted to sink through the floor. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to admire Adrian or how much she wanted to be admired by him.
Sarah reached out and laid a hand on Faith’s arm. “Adrian still grieves deeply for his wife and son. He says the love he holds in his heart for his first wife doesn’t leave room for another. He speaks with conviction when he says he w
ill never love again. A woman who sets her heart on my cousin is likely to find heartache instead.”
Adrian started his assessment of Faith’s orchard under the close supervision of her alpacas. The herd followed him everywhere, observing his activity with wide curious eyes. Their heads bobbed back and forth on their long necks as they tried to figure out what he was up to.
Before long, the group grew tired of simply watching him. They began a new game, bounding away, then racing back at him, dodging aside at the last second to avoid a collision. Soon, several mock battles broke out between the youngsters. They chased each other around the trees, kicking and knocking their long necks into one another. Socks and Baby Face reared up and began a boxing match as they hopped about on their rear legs.
Adrian chuckled at their antics. It was like being surrounded by five-foot-tall puppies. He began to understand Faith’s attraction to them. They were adorable. Like their owner.
Only Myrtle refused to join the fun. She spit at those brave or foolish enough to encroach on her space. Adrian had no trouble staying away from her.
He finished his task and was letting himself out the gate to the orchard when he saw Faith returning. His spirits lifted instantly. She was sure to smile when he recounted her animals’ antics.
She drew her horse to a stop beside the barn door. He held the mare’s headstall as Faith descended from the buggy. “Did you sell all your yarn?” he asked.
She pulled a large hamper from the backseat. “Not all of it but a large portion. I hope you have some good news about my orchard.”
“You have very curious animals prowling out there.”
Her face filled with concern. “Did they give you trouble?”
“I was able to dodge their charges and most of the spit.”
“I will wash your shirt if need be.”
“Nee, I’m only teasing. You have about ten trees that should be cut down. They are too old and diseased to bear fruit. They can be cut up and stacked for firewood. They should dry out enough through the fall to burn well this winter.”
Faith set her basket on the ground. “Should I replant more peach trees in their place?”
“If I were you, I’d diversify with some plum and apple trees. Since they flower at different times, you will be less likely to lose the entire crop if we get a late freeze in the spring.
Her eyebrows shot up. “So you think I will be here in the spring? Have you decided I can make a go of this place?”
“You have made a good start,” he admitted.
“Only because you’ve done the majority of the outside work. Your help has been a godsend.”
Adrian grew uncomfortable with her gratitude. He hadn’t started out to help her earn a living. He’d had his own selfish reasons for doing the work needed. He had hoped she would sell her farm to him.
Did he still want her to leave?
No…and yes.
He hadn’t once thought of Lovina all through this day. He’d thought only of what Faith would say, what would make her smile. Faith made him forget his pain.
He didn’t want to feel this sense of wonder when she was near, but he did. Seeing her smile shouldn’t make him happy, but it did.
Adrian turned away and started to unhitch the horse. Faith made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Things that had died in him when Lovina died.
Faith said, “I can manage. I’m sure you have your own work to see to.”
“I’ve wasted the best part of the day here. I might as well stable your horse. It won’t take that much longer.” His voice sounded unnaturally harsh even to his own ears.
Faith took a step back and ducked her head. “I should get these things up to the house. The social worker will be here soon.”
As she hurried away, Adrian could’ve kicked himself for stripping the happiness from her eyes. Had he been wrapped up in his own grief so long that he’d forgotten how to be kind?
Chapter Six
Faith put her yarns and baskets away and worked up the courage to return to the barn. She had upset Adrian, but she didn’t know how. Was it something she said? He’d done too much for her to let him go away angry.
She paused at the kitchen door, remembering Adrian as he had first appeared to her, dark and scowling. In spite of his fierce appearance, he’d been nothing but kind to her. She had come to care for him, to see him as a friend, yet she had scurried away from his displeasure like a sheep running from the wolf. Why was it still so hard to stand up for herself?
Because I’m afraid.
Was Adrian’s kindness only an act or did her old fear make her suspect evil where it didn’t exist? If she couldn’t be sure, how could she do business with him, accept his help, allow him into her life?
Learning to trust again was harder than relearning to walk had been. Perhaps that was the reason God had brought her to this place. Because she had to begin somewhere. If this was her first test, she had failed miserably.
No, that wasn’t true because she wanted to trust Adrian. The real problem was that she no longer trusted her own judgment.
Dear Father in heaven, give me strength and wisdom. Let me not judge others lest I be judged in return. Help me to see the good in men and not suspect evil.
Bolstered by her prayer, Faith left the house, crossed the yard and pulled open the barn door. Adrian was busy forking hay into Copper’s stall. He hadn’t seen her return.
Unobserved, Faith took a moment to admire the way he made the work look easy. His strong arms and shoulders drove the fork deep into the hay and lifted a bundle with ease. Beneath the sweat-dampened shirt he wore, she could see the muscles tightening and rippling across his back. Her breath quickened as she realized she wasn’t seeing him as a friend should. Embarrassed, she looked away.
He was a strong, handsome man, and he was proving himself to be a good friend and neighbor. That was all. She wouldn’t let it be anything else.
He caught sight of her. “I’ll be done in a minute.”
He didn’t seem angry now. She took a step closer. “I’m sorry I upset you earlier.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You did nothing to upset me. I’m the one who should be sorry. I let my ill humor ruin your day. That was wrong. The help I gave you was for selfish reasons. Please forgive me.”
“You are forgiven. For what selfish reason have you worked here day in and day out?”
He hesitated, then sighed. “I thought if you couldn’t make a go of this farm, I could buy it from you. The work that I’ve done here would have had to be done anyway when I took over.”
“I see. Thank you for telling me this.”
“I no longer think you will fail, Faith Martin. You have the will to succeed, and as you once told me, you aren’t afraid of hard work.
A sound outside drew her attention. Faith’s heart leaped into her throat when she saw the automobile pulling to a stop in front of her house. In the front seat she could see a woman surveying the property. “That must be Mrs. Taylor, Kyle’s social worker. What do I do?”
Adrian came to stand beside her. Gently, he said, “Go and welcome her.”
His simple reply made her realize how silly she was being. “Kyle was raised in an Englisch home. I’m worried that this Englisch woman won’t think he belongs in an Amish home.”
“You cannot discover the answers you seek by hiding here in the barn.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ja, I’m pretty sure.” He smiled and motioned her toward the door. “Go.”
Gathering her courage, Faith walked out of the barn and toward the car, knowing this was the moment she had been dreading and praying for. She had had several letters from Mrs. Taylor, but she had no idea what to expect from the Englisch social worker.
The car door opened, and a tall, slender young woman got out. She wore a plum-colored suit and matching high-heeled shoes. Her hair was short and dark. It curled tightly against her skull. She held a briefcase in one hand.
Faith managed
a smile. “Velkumm. Are you a Mrs. Taylor?”
“I’m afraid Mrs. Taylor no longer works for our agency. I’m Miss Watkins. Caroline Watkins. Are you Faith Miller?”
“Martin,” Faith corrected her.
“My apologies.” Caroline’s gaze was fastened on Adrian standing by the barn. “Is that Mr. Martin?”
“No. That is my neighbor, Adrian Lapp. I am a widow. I thought you knew that.”
“I’m sure it was in the file. I apologize if I sound unprepared. I’ve been swamped with work. Yours is my third home visit this week. Mrs. Taylor left on very short notice and I’m playing catch-up.”
“Do come in the house.” Faith gestured toward the front door.
Would her home pass inspection? Was it clean enough? Was it big enough? Would Faith pass as a prospective parent, or would this woman decide she didn’t deserve her nephew? Worry gnawed at her insides. Exactly what would this home study entail?
Inside the house, Faith led the way to the living room. It was sparely furnished with a small sofa placed in front of a pair of tall windows. Two reading chairs flanked the couch. A small bookcase sat against the wall opposite the windows. Miss Watkins settled herself on the sofa while Faith perched on the edge of a chair facing her.
Miss Watkins must have seen the concern Faith was trying to conceal. “Please don’t be nervous, Mrs. Martin. I’m here to make sure your home is a suitable, safe place for your nephew, not to pass judgment on your housekeeping or personal tastes.”
“I am Kyle’s only family. What could be more suitable than that?”
“I agree it is almost always best to place a child with a relative, but placing a child in a safe and loving home is our top priority, even if that means placing them with someone other than a blood relative.”
The social worker searched through her papers. “First, I need to see two forms of identification. I have to make sure I’m talking to the right person. Confidentiality laws and all that, you know. Your driver’s license and a Social Security card will be fine.”
The Farmer Next Door Page 6
