Chapter Four

Friday morning, Naomi had just gotten the girls off to school when Brock came up the porch steps and knocked on the kitchen door. Like most of their guests, everyone seemed to migrate to the kitchen door as opposed to the other door, which led into the living room. Maybe because it was the closest entrance when you came up the porch steps. Usually, Naomi only saw Brock at meals, so she was surprised to see him now.

“I need a part for my tractor.” He ran his sleeve across his forehead. It was unseasonably hot for September and Naomi had opened all the windows, filling the house with a cool cross breeze.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been bringing you something cold to drink. I forget how hot it can be out in the fields, even this time of year. Can I get you something now?”

“No, no. I bring a small cooler every day with water or lemonade. So I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be gone for a while. I have to go to Lancaster for the part.”

Naomi didn’t get to Lancaster very often. It was too far to go by buggy. She thought about the list she’d been adding to, things she couldn’t find at the nearby businesses. Abby needed a new tire for her kick scooter, the reason the girls had been walking to the schoolhouse. Esther Rose was allergic to something outside and occasionally got welts on her legs. The homeopathic doctor has suggested a salve to make, and Naomi made it just like he’d said. But when it didn’t stop the itching, the doctor suggested an over-the-counter medication that Naomi hadn’t been able to find.

“I am so sorry to ask this, and I don’t want to trouble you . . .” She bit her bottom lip, flinching a little. “Is there any way I can go with you? Could we go to Walmart?” It was the best kept secret in her community. Amish women loved Walmart.

“Of course. It’s no problem at all.”

Naomi was surprised that Brock didn’t question her about it. Most Englisch thought that the Amish only shopped at markets nearby, and there was a tiny store similar to Walmart in Paradise, but they had a limited selection.

“I can hire a driver, I’ve just been . . .” She was trying to be frugal with money, but decided not to share that with Brock. “. . . busy and haven’t gotten around to it.” And that was the truth too.

“Naomi, I don’t mind taking you anywhere you want to go. Really. I retired early because I was more or less forced to when the company I’d worked for my entire life went belly-up. So, I farmed full-time for a while, but after Patty died, I thought I’d be better off with a smaller place.” He scratched his forehead as he shook his head. “But I got bored pretty quick. Besides, idle hands makes for idle minds, and I’m only forty-one. I take on construction jobs, or sometimes even harvest hay for someone who needs help.” He smiled. “But I still have more free time than I’d like. So, even after I’m done with the harvest, you can call on me for rides if you need them.”

“We all pay drivers. Maybe that’s something you could do to occupy some time. I could spread the word around to friends and family.”

Brock shook his head. “I don’t want to do it all the time for everyone. I prefer jobs where I work outside.” He winked at her, which was a bit unsettling. “But I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

Naomi wondered if he was flirting with her. It had been so long since Stephen courted her, she barely remembered what it felt like. Surely not, she decided. He was fourteen years older than her and a friend of her father’s. That made him safe. And safe was high on her priority list.

Brock silently reprimanded himself for winking at Naomi. She’d blushed right away, and he didn’t want to do anything to make her feel uncomfortable. He enjoyed bringing in their hay. Something about being on a tractor made a man feel like a man, and when the weather cooperated, there was nothing better than a hard day’s work. He was thankful the rain hadn’t lasted.

“I’ll just get my purse.” Naomi scooted around the corner, but peeked back around a few seconds later. “Will we be back before school is out?”

“I’ll make sure we are.”

She smiled and was gone again, returning with a small black purse. “Ready.”

Brock noticed she didn’t lock the door when they left, just pulled it closed behind her.

“I appreciate this,” she said after they’d turned onto Lincoln Highway. “Stephen built the girls’ scooters from extra bicycle parts he’d found here and there, so the tires are a special size, not typical of the scooters people buy around here.”

“No problem at all.” He glanced in her direction for a moment and noticed she’d shed her mourning clothes. “So, no more black clothes?”

She pressed her lips together, frowning a little. “Do you think it’s too soon? Mamm said it was up to me when I chose to move on, but maybe I should have waited longer.”

“I think that’s a personal decision, totally your choice.” Again, Brock wanted to tell her that time would heal, but he recalled how he hated hearing that after Patty died.

“I loved my husband.” She raised her chin and stared forward. “I did.”

Brock sensed there was more to the comment, but he just nodded.

“He was gut in many ways. He was a gut father to the girls.” She turned to Brock. “And he had a strong work ethic.”

Brock wondered why she felt the need to convince him about her husband’s character, a man Brock hadn’t known.

“But I’m done mourning him,” she said in a whisper as she faced forward again. And there was no mistaking the finality in which she made the statement. Brock stayed quiet, unsure what to say.

“Do you think that makes me a bad person?” she asked after a while.

Brock cleared his throat. “No. Like I said, a personal decision.”

“Mei parents liked Stephen. I think my father respected his work habits. He got along well with my bruder and his family also.” She sighed. “Ya. Everyone liked Stephen.”

Her words held an undertone, a demeanor Brock couldn’t quite grasp. “Well . . . that’s good.”

“I guess.” She stared out the window and didn’t say much for the next few minutes. Then she twisted in her seat to face him. “I’m pregnant. And no one knows.”

Then why in the world are you telling me? “Uh, are you happy about that?” It sounded like a dumb thing to say, but he wasn’t sure where their conversation was going, so he wanted to tread lightly. Her face brightened.

“Ach, ya. Very happy. A child is a gift from God.”

Brock supposed that was true. It was God’s choice who He blessed with children, not a given. For a while, Brock had felt cheated since he and Patty couldn’t have children. But he’d grown to accept it. More so than his wife. Looking back, Brock was sure that’s when his communion with God began to slip. He couldn’t understand how the Lord would deny Patty the chance to be a mother. Brock hoped she had lots of children to care for in heaven.

“A baby needs a father.” Naomi sighed. “So do my girls. But there’s not one man in our district that I could even think about dating.” She turned to face him again. “I don’t want to date or get remarried. But it’s the right thing to do, ya?”

Brock shrugged. “That’s another one of those personal decisions.” He stifled a grin as he recalled Naomi’s conversation with Abby about not shopping for a husband.

“I want to do what’s right.”

Brock nodded. He decided he was going to pray for Naomi to find a good man for her and her children. Maybe praying for someone else would help him get right with God again. He didn’t ask for much these days. If he didn’t ask, he wouldn’t be let down. He still had a strong faith, he just felt a little disappointed with how God had directed his life. His attitude was like a bad habit he needed to kick. But he still went to church most Sundays, hoping that God would just let him live in peace.

“Why haven’t you told anyone you’re pregnant?” Brock wondered how far along she was, but a pregnancy was easy enough to hide beneath the loose dresses the Amish women wore.

She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I don’t know.” Sighing, she raised her head. “Having a baby is such a joyous occasion. I wanted everyone to be happy about the news and I didn’t want that to supersede their mourning of Stephen.” She folded her hands in her lap atop her purse and turned to him again, her eyes soft and inquiring. “Do you want to remarry? Do you date? I mean I know you’re older and all, and maybe it—” She paused and bit her lip. “I don’t mean older, like really old, like you can’t remarry, or—”

Brock held up a hand and chuckled. “It’s okay. It’s been two years since Patty died, and I dated a few women in the past year, but none of them were right for me. Believe it or not, I have a fairly young heart, and I like to stay active and busy . . . for an old guy.” He laughed again.

Naomi grinned. “You’re not old. Just older.”

Brock reached in front of her to point to her side of the highway. She instantly threw her hands in front of her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you flinch. I was just pointing to that carnival going on over there. How many old guys do you know who would ride every single ride there?”

She lowered her hands. “I just saw your arm . . . and . . . sorry.” She smiled. “My girls have always wanted to go to a festival like that.”

“Is it allowed?” Brock knew a lot about the Amish because of his grandparents, but they had been gone a long time, and the Amish modified their rules, which also may differ by district. Cell phones were evidence of that, and most families had at least one of those. Brock could remember the shanty his grandparents shared with two other families. A phone booth of sorts that housed a rotary phone strictly for emergencies. Those days were long gone.

“The festivals are allowed, of course. Our bishop doesn’t really encourage the rides that are powered with electricity, but I overheard him say one time that he was willing to overlook it.” She paused. “Stephen didn’t like heights, though, so I guess he didn’t think the rest of us would either.” Frowning, her voice had slipped back into a place Brock was having trouble translating. Bitterness was the word that came to mind. He understood that. Brock had gone through the gamut of emotions after Patty died. Mad at God, and even mad at Patty for a while for leaving him, which made no sense.

Brock turned in the Walmart parking lot, deciding to drop Naomi off while he went to the tractor supply store for his part. “I’ll come back and get you in about a half hour. Is that enough time?”

Naomi nodded. It was easy to see how her father was such good friends with Brock. Gideon Huyard was a man who didn’t befriend Englisch folks easily, and he was generally distrusting of outsiders. If he trusted Brock enough to bring in Naomi’s harvest, that told her a lot. Maybe that’s why she’d told Brock she was pregnant. He wasn’t mourning Stephen, and she’d felt the need to tell someone. She was surprised word hadn’t gotten out since Dr. Noah was her doctor, and he was local. But it was time to share the news. This baby was coming in less than four months.

Standing on the sidewalk thirty minutes later, she parked her cart, filled with two small bags and a bicycle tire across the top. Brock pulled up to the curb, and before Naomi could even open the back door of his big truck, he was opening it for her and loading her things.

“I’m starving,” he said as he shut the door. “We should have time to grab some lunch and still get back way before your daughters get home from school. You hungry?”

Naomi’s stomach growled. What a treat it would be to eat out, but she’d spent almost all of the money she’d brought with her in Walmart. “Um . . . I am. Uh . . .”

“My treat,” he said as he opened the front door for her, shutting it once she was inside. “Where do you want to go?” He put the white truck in drive and started out of the parking lot.

“I-I don’t know. Stephen usually chose a restaurant on the few occasions we went out to eat.” She pondered the possibilities, thought about all the places she’d always wanted to try, but maybe Brock just meant that they would get a hamburger at a fast-food type place.

“Have you ever been there?” Brock pointed to his left. “They have steaks, chicken, burgers, seafood . . . a little bit of everything.”

Naomi twirled the string on her kapp. “That’s a fancy place.”

Brock grinned. “It’s really not all that fancy, but if you think you’d be uncomfortable, we can go somewhere—”

“Nee. That place is fine.” Naomi decided to grab on to this opportunity.

During the meal, she and Brock settled into a casual conversation. He was easy to talk to. And a good listener. She decided then and there—while eating the best steak she’d ever had—that she was going to pray for Brock to find the peace he seemed to be searching for. She liked his thinking. He only had one goal, not a long list of expectations or desires. Just a desire for the peace of Christ.

On the way home, he slowed down as they went by the festival again. “Well, if you weren’t pregnant, I’d beg you to go ride the rides with me tomorrow at that carnival.” He chuckled.

Naomi thought again about how much her girls would enjoy something like that, even if they were too small to go on some of the larger rides. But she was sure Brock wouldn’t want to take a pregnant woman and her two children for the day.

Brock let out a deep breath, then turned to her. “I don’t even know if I should ask this. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know a whole lot about kids. I’ve only been around my brother’s children a few times since he lives so far away. But you said your girls would have fun at a carnival like this. Are they big enough to ride any of the rides?” He laughed. “Look at me, trying to round up little kids to go on rides with me.”

Naomi smiled, but festivals—or carnivals, as he called them—cost money too. “Do you know, um . . . does it cost a lot?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of money, just not anyone to ride the rides with me.”

Naomi studied his expression for a moment. He looked like a little boy with his crooked smile and all the excitement in his voice. He sure didn’t act like a forty-one-year-old man. Her girls would love an adventure like that. And Brock was her father’s friend. He was older and Englisch. No one would push her into dating someone like that. He might become as good a friend to her and her children as he was to her father, and that sounded nice.

“I think the girls would love to go,” she finally said.