A Simple Faith

by Rosalind Lauer

  “Maybe I was one of the first, but I won’t be the last.” A wind kicked up, and she began to shiver again. “You have a good heart, Ruben. Another girl is going to see that and snatch you up.”

  He snorted. “I don’t want another girl. You’re the girl of my heart.”

  “But nothing could ever come of us two.” Elsie pinched the blanket at her chest, trying to find the right words. “You need to know that I can never have children. I’ve talked to Doc Trueherz about it, and there’s a genetic link with EVC. If I have children, I could pass the little people gene on to them, and that’s something I can’t allow to happen.”

  Confusion glimmered in Ruben’s eyes. “But that’s not the Amish way, the way we were raised. You and I were born to find a husband or wife and start families. That’s the rule for everyone.”

  Elsie nearly choked on the words. “Not for me.”

  “Other little people have families. There’s a lot of them over in the settlement in Paradise. Some of their children have EVC, some don’t. It’s Gott’s will.”

  “I know that, but it doesn’t change my decision.” Elsie knew she was coming close to disobeying the rules of their church, but she was adamant. “This is not just a whim; I’ve thought and prayed about it long and hard. It can’t happen. I won’t do it to a little child.”

  “Don’t get mad at me if I say it’s not such a terrible thing to have children. The world would be a better place with a little girl or boy like you, Elsie.”

  She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes from the icy wind. Ya, it was from the wind. “I won’t let it happen. That’s the truth.”

  “Then I’ll have to change your mind. Just give me some time.”

  A shiver rippled through Elsie as she fumbled to pull the lap blanket higher. “You can have all the time in the world, Ruben. It won’t change my decision.”

  Suddenly, the heat of the bottles was no match for the brisk wind that whipped over them. Elsie heard a rattling sound; it was her own teeth chattering gently.

  “Look at you, shivering like a leaf in the wind. Let me warm you.” He lifted his arm so that she could scoot over beside him. “I won’t change your decision tonight, but at least I can keep you warm. Kumm.”

  Without thinking she moved close and snuggled against him, pressing her face into his coat. His arms folded over her, enclosing her in a warm cocoon.

  The glow of love and comfort held her in a daze for a moment. The great wall of his chest smelled of soap and wood smoke, and she allowed herself to nuzzle into the safety there, just for a minute.

  Oh, if only this could be the way she ended every evening, wrapped in Ruben’s strong arms. She stayed there, warm and protected from the wind until the gentle patter of the horse’s hooves faded and the buggy stopped rocking over the road.

  Dragging herself from his embrace, she blinked into the night and saw that they had arrived back at her home.

  “Home again, and I’m not even cold anymore. Denki.”

  “You’ll think about what I said … about us courting.”

  Elsie sighed, knowing she would think of nothing but Ruben for the rest of the night … maybe for the rest of the week. “I won’t be changing my mind,” she said. “But I will think about you.”

  She turned to jump out of the buggy, but he hopped out first and held his arms out to her. She moved to the edge of the seat and went to take his hands, but instead he held her at the waist and lifted her down.

  Her boots landed softly on the ground, but her heart was still floating. Oh, how could her heart go to a place where she could never stay?

  His hands moved up to her shoulders, and she could feel his gaze upon her.

  Facing him, she had to crane her neck up to see his face.

  “Hold on.” He dropped down on one knee so that they were eye to eye. “That’s better. I want to leave you with something to remember me.”

  She cocked her head to one side, hoping that he hadn’t bought her a gift. “What’s that?”

  “One kiss,” he said. “There’s no harm in it. And it will give you something to think about.”

  “Who thinks about a kiss?” she asked.

  “When Gott blesses a man and a woman with love, folks think about a lot more than kissing.”

  Her face grew warm at the thought that Ruben wanted to be with her, and that she truly was a woman. Of course, it was true, but with her small stature and her denial of any romance in her life, she had thought of herself as a perennial girl. Like the flowers that tucked themselves away each winter and bloomed each spring, that was the way Elsie imagined her life would be.

  But the solid wall of man before her told her that she had definitely crossed the threshold into womanhood. And there was no denying the yearning to blossom in the arms of the man before her.

  “One kiss,” she whispered.

  Gently, tenderly, he cupped her face with his big hands. When he leaned forward and brushed his lips gently over hers, she felt as if a spark had jumped between them, setting her senses on fire. He deepened the kiss, and suddenly she was alive with wonder at the feel of his body against hers, the smell of him, the taste of him.

  The rest of the world blurred into the night as she melted against him.

  One kiss.

  One kiss to last a lifetime.

  35

  One kiss.

  One kiss, and now Ruben knew for sure that Elsie Lapp was the love of his life. They were meant to be together. It was one of those things you didn’t question, like the sun rising in the east and the leaves turning red and gold each October.

  That kiss had let him know that his heart was in the right place, though with Elsie determined never to marry, winning her wasn’t going to be easy.

  He wondered about that the next day at church, as he turned to look across the open room to the benches on the other side where the women sat.

  There she was, holding Beth in her lap. She held the plate of gmay cookies for the little girl to take one, then passed them down the row. Beth smiled as Elsie whispered something and tucked a stray lock of hair behind the little girl’s ear.

  Ruben didn’t want to stare, but for a moment he studied her, recalling the way his hands had cupped her smooth cheeks. The way he’d kissed the plump lips that were whispering now. He’d tried to memorize every sensation, the taste of her, the lavender scent of her hair. He remembered it all so well, and yet, he wanted more.

  One kiss would never be enough.

  Elsie wasn’t baptized yet, so she hadn’t promised to follow all the rules of the Ordnung. But she’d told him she would always live among the Plain folk.

  And Plain folk married and started a family. It was the Amish way of life … though not in Elsie’s thinking. Her worries about having a baby that looked like her must have been keeping her from thinking straight.

  Ruben hadn’t realized that it bothered her, being a little person. Her sweet smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the way she saw the good in people … Elsie seemed to be happy with life. Looking at her, you’d never know that she felt bad about the way she was.

  Ruben understood how it felt to be trapped inside a body that wasn’t right. He had learned that lesson very painfully as a child. But he’d come around. His body still wasn’t right, but he’d had help accepting it as it was. He prayed that Elsie would meet her own angels to help her find the way.

  Monday morning, the Country Store was bursting with women, Amish and Englisher alike. With the auction coming up on Saturday, Mary and her younger sister Susie had come by to pick up donations from the store, and as luck would have it they had arrived at the same time as a minibus full of white-haired Englisher ladies. Ruben and Elsie did their best to juggle customers and the collection of items that were to go into the auction.

  “Yesterday after church I got a chance to talk to every Amish person who sells crafts in the store, and everyone wants to donate.” Because the Country Store sold things on consignment, Elsie could not donate anything
without permission from the person who made it. She gathered up items in a small basket as she walked up one aisle. “We decided that some of the smaller items, like lavender, soaps, honey, and jam, can go together in a gift basket. More expensive things, like one of Rachel’s paintings, can be auctioned off on their own.”

  “That makes good sense,” Mary said. “Do you want us to put the baskets together at home?”

  “You can do it here.” Elsie pointed to the bolts of cloth. “We’ve got baskets and fabric and ribbon.”

  “Can I do a basket?” Susie King clasped her hands together under her chin. “That sounds like fun.”

  “The baskets are in the storeroom,” Elsie said, sending Susie skipping toward the back of the store.

  For the first time, Ruben realized that he was surrounded by women in this shop, and while he could hold his own in conversation, he didn’t favor the giggles and skipping. He came to the register to make the sale for an older woman with bold black eyeglasses. He’d seen her here before.

  She sniffed a bar of soap and sighed. “Ah, lavender. Did you know it eases stress?”

  “Then maybe I need a sniff this morning.” Ruben picked up a satchel of lavender and brought it to his nose. “Ya. That’s better.”

  “Oh, you’re a fresh one.” The woman waved at him. “What’s this auction about? I was here last month and didn’t hear a peep about it.”

  “That’s because we hadn’t thought it up yet,” he said as he punched keys on the old mechanical register. “The auction is for James Lapp, a friend of ours who was injured in an accident. His family needs money to pay his medical bills.”

  The woman squinted. “Is this the young man who was paralyzed when that van got hit?”

  Ruben didn’t like hearing the word “paralyzed.” It sounded too final. “It is.”

  “And is this auction open to the public?” The woman nodded toward the back of the store. “I’m sure our group would love to attend.”

  “It’s open to everyone, and we’re hoping for a good turnout to help the Lapps. There’ll be everything from quilts and paintings to pincushions and seedlings.”

  “That sounds marvelous. Make sure you put one of those flyers in when you wrap my purchases.”

  Ruben stayed at the register and handled four more transactions. When he held the door open for a customer, a growing mound of items sat on the counter, waiting to be loaded into Mary’s buggy.

  “I’ll get going with these.” He carried out Rachel King’s water-color of a Diamond quilt on a fence by a garden. Rachel’s painting looked so real, Ruben could almost smell the honeysuckle meandering up over the fence. On his second trip, there was a birdhouse, and then a heavy pine chest made by Adam King. He loaded it all into the back of the buggy, making sure nothing got scraped or cracked. When he returned to the shop, Mary held the wooden box that was always on display in the window—the one that had been in Elsie’s family for so many years.

  “Would you mind taking this out?” Mary smoothed her palm over the top of the box. “And mind, it’s very delicate.”

  Ruben took it from her, wariness prickling the back of his neck. “But, Mary, this is not for sale. Elsie wants to keep it in her family.”

  Mary touched her chin and turned to Elsie. “Did I take the wrong box?”

  Elsie peeked out from behind the display of birdhouses. “That’s the right one.” She smiled up at Ruben, but he sensed the undercurrent of uneasiness. “You know, I’ve been thinking and praying about it. I checked with Emma and Caleb, and they thought it was a good idea. We’re donating the box.”

  “Elsie … no.” Ruben shook his head.

  “All these wonderful good things in the store, and none of them are ours to give. But the box, that’s something we can donate. And it would ease my heart to see something good come of that old box.”

  That old box had been cherished by her father … and by Elsie, too. Not for the wood chest itself, but for the long line of family members who had kept it in their homes and lovingly passed it on.

  “Are you sure, Elsie?” Ruben stood tall, holding the painted box as if it were made of glass. “Do you think it’s right to give it up? This is something that’s always been in your family. Something you could pass down to your kids.”

  Elsie closed the distance between them and took the small wood chest from Ruben. “I want to help James, and this box is the only thing I can give that will make money for him.”

  “You’re helping in other ways,” he said softly. “By rounding up all these donations from your store. I didn’t have anything to donate, but I got Dat to let us use the barn for the auction.”

  “And that’s a huge contribution.” Elsie smoothed her fingertips over the cherries painted on the outside. “I know this was made by my great-great-grandmother, but it’s only wood and paint and some glue. It’s so very pretty, but now it can be useful, too.”

  A knot was growing in Ruben’s throat. He didn’t want Elsie to make this mistake, but he couldn’t stop her.

  “Take it, Ruben. Load it along with the other things.”

  He opened his hands to take the box, wishing that instead he could take her into his arms and kiss her over and over again until she changed her mind.

  Verhuddelt. He was a crazy man now. A crazy man in love. “I’ll put it in the buggy, then.”

  He was halfway to the door when he remembered. “What about that customer who wanted to buy the box? Gwen something.”

  “Gwen Slavin,” Elsie called from behind the bolts of fabric. “She was in yesterday while you were running errands and I told her about it. She’s coming to the auction.”

  Ruben frowned as he plodded out to the buggy with the box. This was not right. Gott loved a generous heart, but a person did not have to sacrifice the small possessions that traced a family’s history.

  It reminded him of Elsie’s decision not to have children.

  Selling the box was a strike at her family’s past. Not having children would end her own future, cutting the family tree short.

  Gott willing, he was going to turn Elsie Lapp around. Stubborn as she was, he would melt her resolve with the strongest measure the Ordnung allowed.

  He would wear her down with love.

  36

  “Are you comfortable?” The familiar, steady voice on the phone comforted Dylan, closing the distance between him and his therapist of four years. “Because I can feel your anxiety, Dylan.”

  “I’m pacing,” Dylan told Patrick. “I’m walking from one window to another, looking out over a frozen field that I’m told will contain some massive beets come the summer. Sweet beets and stinking fertilizer.” That had been what the upstairs tenants, the Dawsons, had told him the day he’d moved into this apartment just outside Halfway. Funny, but his landlady had failed to mention the free aromatherapy that came along with the spring thaw.

  “You really are out in the sticks. So you’re kicking back in farm country. I take it all this pastoral scenery has brought you great peace.”

  “Sometimes. Other times, I’m just the hermit of the beet fields.”

  “So that’s why you haven’t checked in for a session since I saw you in December.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Honest is the only way to be in therapy,” Patrick said wryly.

  “I’ve been busy, but good.” He told Patrick how his outreach program had barely been in place before crisis had swept through the community, bringing more than half a dozen traumatized Amish clients in for therapy sessions. The accident had brought him acceptance into Amish homes, and he was grateful for the chance to visit people who needed help but weren’t comfortable with group therapy. Fanny Lapp. Jacob Fisher. George and Cookie Dornbecker. John Beiler.

  “You were right about the change of venue getting me out of that rut.” Dylan pressed one palm to the window glass; even through the double pane, the cold bruised his skin. “When I go to work, when I come home here, I’m not facing constant reminders of Kristin
and Angela.” It felt strange to say their names after all these months of consciously keeping them hovering at the back of his consciousness, bringing them out only in occasional quiet moments of grief and reflection.

  Like Ruben’s angels.

  “Of course I was right,” Patrick said. “I’m glad you’re finally seeing it my way.” A pause. “But enough about me. You called to arrange this session, so I know something’s on your mind. Some distant memory rising to the surface?”

  Dylan paused in front of the large picture window, staring at a magnificent sunrise. A swath of light cast a golden hue over the land. How could a barren field be so beautiful?

  He’d thought of this apartment as a sort of hermitage, a place to hole up and escape most vestiges of civilization. Aside from the occasional wave to the tenants upstairs and the monthly rent check, nothing was expected of him in this residence. He’d taken this place to crash, to be alone, to escape from a life as cold, empty, and barren as the fields that stretched from here to the hills.

  But suddenly, those fields were an intricate study in contrasts between darkness and light, color and negative space. Not so bleak, after all.

  “Dylan? You need to talk, buddy. Tell me what’s going on and I’ll listen with the occasional brilliant guiding question.”

  “It’s about a woman.”

  “Go on.”

  “A young woman I work with. She’s a student nurse at the hospital and, well, there’s always been chemistry between us.” Dylan raked back his hair as he paced to the kitchen. He poured another cup of coffee but left it on the counter as he shuffled back to the window still in sweats and a T-shirt. His first appointment this morning was two hours off, and that was with James Lapp.

  James Lapp, and his sparkling nursing assistant, Haley Donovan.

  “This student nurse,” Patrick said. “How old is she?”

  “Just a kid. She’s twenty-two.”

  “That’s old enough to be a contender.”