A Simple Faith

by Rosalind Lauer

  “But I’m not looking for a relationship. I came here to get away from the ghosts of trauma. I need to heal before I get involved with anyone.”

  “You’ve been healing for more than four years, Dylan. And I gotta give you a lot of credit on that because you worked on it all that time. And as you know, there comes a point when a person is ready to be in a relationship again. I’m not pushing, and I’m not saying you’re there. I’m just saying it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

  “I don’t know, Patrick.” Dylan perched on the arm of the sofa. “Sounds to me like you’re pushing.”

  “Maybe I am. What’s this young woman’s name?”

  “Haley.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “She has eyes the color of warm honey and an impetuous manner that always sneaks up on me.”

  “Nice. Sounds like poetry.”

  “She’s a beautiful girl with true compassion for people. She’s not afraid to get involved with the Amish. In fact, I think she’s as intrigued by their culture as I am.”

  “And you work with her at the hospital?”

  “And in the field.” He explained how Haley was making house calls on James Lapp with him. “She was sort of my entrée into the local Amish community. Haley was the first person to come upon that accident. She has helped me connect with the passengers. Without her, I don’t know if I would have gotten any of them to agree to group therapy. But they come, every week. There’s a core group of four young Amish people who are there like clockwork.”

  “So, essentially, Haley is a key factor in your practice there.”

  “Well, no, but …” He thought about it a moment. “Yes. Maybe not at the hospital, but here in Halfway, yes. She’s the center of my universe.”

  The realization hit him like a blow to the chest.

  “Dylan? Was that a joke?”

  “Sort of.”

  Patrick whistled through his teeth. “You weren’t joking. So you realize she’s a special person. She’s important to you. And you’re holding back from involvement … why?”

  “She’s too young, we work together, and I’m not ready.”

  “She’s old enough, you work at the same hospital, and it’s been more than four years.”

  Dylan pushed away from the sofa and went back to the window.

  “You’re pacing again,” Patrick said.

  Dylan paused and threw out one arm. “How do you know that from seventy miles away?”

  The low rumble of Patrick’s laugh was somehow reassuring. “I know you well, my friend. So what’s going on with this relationship? Is she pressuring you? Trying to get a commitment?”

  “She asked me out for coffee or lunch a few times.”

  “And you’re not willing to spring for a latte?”

  Dylan took a sip of his coffee. Cold coffee. “Look, I’d love to have a glass of wine and some dinner with her. But it’s not that simple.”

  “It never is. But you can move in baby steps. A coffee date is not a proposal of marriage.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “I’m here for you, buddy. I’m just looking out for your best interests, and I think it might be a good idea to pursue someone who you seem to think is worth pursuing. Here’s the best way to start. You should share your story with her. Tell her about Kris and Angela.”

  “I can’t do that. I came here to get away from those memories.”

  “And you’ve had a good break. A fresh start. But you know the drill. It’s time to face your fears.”

  Dylan rubbed the bristle on his jaw, thinking it was time to shave and get going. He could face his fears in a few weeks … or a few years.

  “I hear your hesitation,” Patrick said. “So just think about it, okay?”

  “I will.” Dylan looked at the clock over the stove. “I have to go.”

  “Just one more question. Do you feel guilty because of your attraction to Haley?”

  Guilt: It was the monkey on his back. “I don’t know. I thought I’d worked through all that.”

  “But saying that you don’t blame yourself is different from actually allowing yourself to have another romantic relationship.”

  Dylan bristled. “I’ve got my hands full now, between the hospital and the field work. I’m helping half a dozen patients through post-traumatic stress. That’s my focus right now. That’s why God brought me here.”

  “The work you’re doing sounds great. But maybe God has a greater plan for you than even you can see right now. Maybe there is a relationship in your future. Just think about it,” Patrick insisted. “Be open to it. Everyone needs to love and be loved.”

  I’ve already had my share of love, Dylan thought as he got off the phone and headed to the shower. Kris had been his perfect match, something he’d known since the day they’d met in a class at Temple. English majors, both of them, they had debated the merits and myths of love at first sight and the way it had played out in literature.

  Romeo and Juliet.

  Antony and Cleopatra.

  Dylan and Kristin.

  Kris had been the one who’d argued that the most classic love affairs in history had ended tragically, while Dylan had insisted that millions of couples enjoyed fulfilled love but didn’t advertise it.

  Now, if he were to debate the matter again, he would argue that Kris had been right: True love was destined to tangle itself into a tragic ending.

  As he lathered up shampoo in his hair, he thought about his morning appointment with James Lapp, who still suffered from a depression that kept him from communicating much with anyone, including his longtime girlfriend, Rachel.

  Talk about a romance on the rocks.

  Dylan had counseled Rachel, too, without compromising his relationship with James. Truth be told, James had shared so little with him that there wasn’t much of a relationship to compromise, anyway.

  At the moment, Rachel seemed determined to stick by James, but she was hurt by his withdrawal. As was his mother, Edna. But the family wasn’t interested in treating James’s depression through drug therapy, and James was not open to guided imagery. For the time being, they would stick to talk therapy.

  37

  “How’s that?” Edna Lapp asked, hovering over the table with pitcher in hand. “Can I get you more milk?”

  Dylan waved her off. “I’m good, thanks.” When he arrived to find Haley already working with James, Edna had insisted that Dylan have a slice of fresh-baked chocolate chip pie while he was waiting. “And this is one amazing pie. It reminds me of my wife’s chocolate chip cookies.” The mention of Kris slipped out unfiltered, as if he talked about her every day.

  “That’s what makes it popular for young and old.”

  “You’re a fabulous cook, Edna.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. The Fishers, now, there’s a family that knows how to bake. They’re donating bread and cookies for the auction.”

  “That’s this week, right?” He took out his cell phone to check the date. “Let me make sure I have it on my calendar.”

  “It’s the day after tomorrow, and Mary says that we’ve already got more than six thousand dollars in donations.” Edna looked down, almost embarrassed as she folded a dish towel. “A few big checks came from your doctor friends at the hospital. They couldn’t come to the auction, but they sent the money anyway.”

  “Good. I’m glad they did the right thing.”

  “Please, tell them we’re ever so grateful.”

  “I’ll spread the word.” He rose as Haley appeared, her backpack slung casually over one shoulder, her long blond hair cascading over the other shoulder. She really could be a model. One shot of that pose, and thousands of young people would buy that simple black backpack.

  “We’re all finished,” she said with a slight smile. He noticed that she didn’t look him in the eye, and he wondered if there was going to be awkwardness over the date that could never be.

  “Please, Haley. Sit.” Edna pulled out
a chair and hurried to the counter. “You can’t go without having some pie.”

  “Best chocolate chip pie I ever tasted,” Dylan said from the doorway, hesitating. “And if you don’t mind, I’m going to bring James out here to talk. We’re not digging into anything too personal, and I think a more social environment would oil the hinges a little.”

  Haley hung her backpack on the kitchen chair. “Fine with me.”

  “Oil away,” Edna said with an amused grin.

  A minute later, James was wheeling himself out the wide bedroom door into the kitchen. Dylan moved the chair at the end so that James could roll up to the table.

  “Do you want a piece of pie?” his mother offered.

  He waved her off, but gruffly agreed to a cup of tea.

  Keep things casual, Dylan told himself. James seemed to close down when questioned directly, so it was worth trying a more relaxed atmosphere.

  “This morning as I was driving down the lane to your house, I realized I don’t know beans about what goes into taking care of an orchard.” Dylan eyed a stray chocolate chip that had fallen from Haley’s plate. He shot her a look, then swiped it in one swift move.

  “Stop,” Haley teased, sliding her plate away.

  Edna smiled as she placed a mug of tea in front of her son. “Do you want another piece, Dr. Monroe?”

  “No, thanks. I just couldn’t bear to see that morsel go to waste.”

  James didn’t react, but at least he’d been watching.

  “Anyway, what does it take to manage an orchard? I’m guessing there’s not a lot going on this time of year, since there’s no fruit to be harvested or protected.”

  “Winter’s the time for pruning,” James said. “And you’ve got to watch that the trees don’t go without water.”

  James explained how the average rainfall and snowmelt provided the orchards with plenty of water for the winter. However, a few years ago, there had been a dry winter “that just about did our trees in.” James and his brothers had devised watering systems to keep the fruit trees alive.

  Listening, Dylan could imagine James and his brothers out in the orchards, winter, spring, summer, and fall. He could also sense James’s strong connection to this farm, his feel for the land, his ingenuity and experience tending to the trees. James talked about learning to climb the trees as a young boy, eating a fresh-picked apple as he straddled a thick bough. This orchard was the fabric of his life.

  At last, he had hit on James’s passion, evoking more than a string of five or six words at one time.

  Haley kept quiet as she nibbled on her pie, but occasionally, he caught a glimpse of recognition in her eyes. She, too, was intrigued by this new facet of James.

  “So it’s pruning time.” Dylan nodded toward the windows. “Are all those trees going to be okay without you?”

  “We got most of the pruning done before the accident. My dat and brothers have been working on the rest.”

  “A good thing, because you’ve got a lot of trees out there. I’ve noticed how you can go a mile down the road and you’re still passing Lapp orchards.”

  “We’ve got some acres,” James said modestly, “but it’s not so much work at pruning time. If you take care of your trees every year, there’s just some trimming to do. It’s just a few trees that have a mind of their own and need to be reshaped. The centers have to be opened up to allow light to reach all parts of the tree.”

  Dylan could picture that … a few clipped branches falling to the ground so that sunlight could reach the fruit growing at the heart of the tree.

  It felt great to hear James’s voice. “Before today I never thought much about what went into growing a peach or an apple.”

  As James rubbed his clean-shaven chin, Dylan thought he detected a trace of a smile. “It’s not so much,” James said. “You do a little pruning, and the Almighty Father takes care of the rest.”

  Dylan cocked his head to one side. “Remember what you just said about pruning the branches, that sunlight could reach all parts of the tree?”

  James nodded.

  “It’s a good image. I’m just wondering if that’s true of a man’s faith. Sometimes we have to prune away our fear and anger so that the power of God can reach our hearts.”

  Edna closed the door of the fridge. “How do you prune away anger?”

  “Maybe it’s just a crazy thought,” Dylan said. “A verhuddelt thought,” he added, trying to incorporate the Pennsylvania Dutch word he’d learned.

  James stared at him, as if the answer were forming in the air between them.

  “It’s just some food for thought,” Dylan said.

  James nodded, a silent promise that he would think about it.

  As Dylan followed Haley out to their cars, a chill wind swept over the winter grasses.

  “Ooh!” Haley squealed, struggling to zip up her jacket. “I’m kafrizzling.”

  The instinct to sweep her into his arms and warm her with a kiss burned strong inside him. As they came around the barn, out of sight of the house, he reached over for her hand. “Come here.”

  Her eyes registered surprise, but she did not hesitate to face him and give him her hands. “Your hands are like ice cubes,” he said as he rubbed warmth into them.

  “It was cold in there. Did you know they’re running out of coal?”

  He frowned. “I guess that auction can’t come soon enough.” He pressed her hands to his flannel shirt as two rosy patches appeared on her cheeks. “I know it’s cold. I just … I think I owe you some explanation, and I’ve got to do it now before I lose my nerve.”

  Her golden eyes opened wide, so warm and receptive. He wanted to kick himself for not being honest with Haley long before this.

  “So here it is, for your ears only. You probably realize there’s a reason I’m not jumping into a relationship with you.” The truth sat on his tongue, painfully bitter. “The thing is, I have a past that I’m struggling to reconcile. I was married, very happily married.”

  “Oh, Dylan …” Haley stood motionless, her sweet lips pressed into a frown as she nodded. “Tell me.”

  “There isn’t much to tell.” That was a lie. There were plenty of stories, but it hurt him to go there. He swallowed back the knot of emotion growing in his throat. “Kris and I had a wonderful life in Philadelphia. We did the DINK thing in the city, then our daughter came along. Angie. And our lives changed in a way I’d never expected. We were …” His voice was suddenly strained, and he paused. If he told Haley every blessed detail about his baby girl, they would be here forever. “You don’t need the long version. In a nutshell, I lost them both in a car accident a few years ago.”

  “Oh, no.” Reflexively, she put her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  He stared straight ahead, aware of the pain but also relieved to have the truth out.

  “If you don’t already know …” Haley said with a note of levity. “The nursing students have been dreaming up scenarios about your past, but I don’t think anyone imagined this. How long has it been since … since the accident?”

  “Four years … a little more than that. After it happened I quit my teaching job and went back to school for my master’s in social work. I think I needed the whole psychology thing to keep my own fluctuating emotions in check.”

  “That’s understandable. And, boy, did you make the right choice. Being a therapist … I think it’s a great fit for you.”

  “Well … thanks for that.” He gave her a squeeze, then leaned back so that he could decipher her golden eyes. “Though I wasn’t fishing for compliments. I just wanted to share these things with you because I value our relationship. I really do.”

  His voice was low and hoarse, threaded with emotion. He put his hands on her shoulders, as if to hold on to her. “I don’t want to lose you, Haley, but I don’t know if I can get involved yet. I’m not sure about a commitment.” He screwed his mouth to the side, annoyed with himself. “Bottom line, I’m not ver
y good boyfriend material, and I don’t know if that’s ever going to change. I might wind up a wizened old hermit and you … you deserve to have love in your life. I’m afraid you need to move on.”

  Haley gripped the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close. “Look and listen. I’m not going anywhere, Dylan. You’re not going to shake me loose that easily.”

  “But this is so unfair to you.” He raked back his hair with one hand. “You deserve better than me. You don’t need some ghost of a man in your life.”

  “You are flesh and bones, Dylan.” She gripped his arms for emphasis. “And I value every minute we have together.”

  He took in a breath. “I’m crazy about you, kid. I may be a beet field hermit now, but if there’s ever anyone I’d like to share the beets with, it would be you.”

  The sincerity in his blue eyes, crisp and clear as a summer lake, evoked a visceral reaction deep inside her. How could she work so closely with this man and not fall in love with him? He needed her support, and she was going to be a friend to him. “Tell me what you need and I’ll be there,” she said. “I think you know that patience is not one of my personal virtues, but I’ll do my best. I’ll pray on it and give it up to God and try to cool my jets.”

  He laughed. “You have such a poetic way of putting it.”

  “But I mean it. I—” She wanted to tell him that she loved him—the feeling was so pure and strong in her heart, she was sure he could see it in her eyes. But she didn’t want to rush him. “You know, I’ve been praying for healing, for both of us,” she said. “And God is answering. This is an answered prayer.”

  “You seem surprised at that.”

  “Not surprised. Just hopeful.” After years of gray skies, the clouds were breaking apart and sunlight was streaming through. After years of sorrow, she saw hope streaming through, and it was a beautiful sight.

  38

  For the past hour, Elsie had peered out the shop window, watching the traffic on Main Street swell into a slow crawl. She had prayed that everyone was headed toward Zook’s barn, where Ruben had been working since before dawn, preparing for the big event. Once Caleb had replaced her at the shop, she had hustled up the street, grinning as soon as she saw the cars and people surrounding the barn.