David confessed the entire situation to his bruder later that night as they were completing their final check on the animals. Joseph was four years older and had run the family farm since their parents moved to Ohio to be closer to their dat’s parents. Their whole family was rather spread out with David’s other brother living in Virginia.
Nathan had been the reason David moved to Virginia. His brother had already established a successful cabinetry business there, and David wanted to learn from the best. His bruder was one of the finest craftsmen he’d ever met.
David returned to Indiana because there was a large Amish population, plenty of folks—both Englisch and Amish—who would hire him to build cabinets and furniture and even tiny houses. In truth, he liked the area better than Virginia. It felt good to be back on his family’s farm, and now his bruder was quickly filling their childhood home with kinner. They were up to six and had only been married five years.
“Faith passed out?” Joseph stared at him in disbelief.
“Pretty much. I mean, she never lost consciousness, but she wasn’t really able to move. I practically had to carry her outside.”
“And you think the tiny house caused it?”
“I guess. All she would say was that it felt like the walls were closing in and she couldn’t breathe.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder if she has trouble riding in buggies.”
“Hadn’t thought of that, though now that you mention it, hers seems to have extra windows in the back.”
“Perhaps Alton allowed it—given that she’s dealing with a medical condition and all.”
They’d brushed down the horses, put away any tools that had been left out, and walked back outside the barn. David looked up at the stars. The small pinpoints of light calmed his soul. They gave him a feeling of being in a vast open space, but also of being in the palm of Gotte’s hand. He wasn’t sure why that image popped into his mind.
Did Faith feel better when she was outside?
Did the stars give her a sense of safety?
How long had she been dealing with her condition?
“You care about her,” Joseph said, plopping down in a rocker under the barn eave.
“She’s a nice girl.”
“Nein. I mean you care about her as more than a friend.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“She’s all you’ve talked about for the last week.”
“Huh.”
“Bruder, you are a little clueless in regard to girls and dating and your own feelings.”
“And you’re an expert?” It came out as more of a growl than a statement. He softened it with, “Guess that’s what being married does to a man.”
“I was never as clueless as you are.” Joseph laughed and pushed the chair to rocking. “You’ve always been very—what’s the word—focused on your work.”
“I like what I do.”
“And that’s not a bad thing, but sometimes you don’t pick up on hints other people are sending out.”
“I definitely didn’t see any hints that Faith was going to melt down, though now that you mention it . . .” He perched on the edge of the other rocker. “She was a little hesitant to go inside.”
“Aha.”
“Don’t look so pleased. Remember when your oldest lost his front tooth, and it took you three days to notice?”
“Ya, well, this isn’t about me.”
“I just don’t understand how it happens. I mean, if I’m going to be Faith’s . . . friend”—David chose to ignore his bruder’s smirk—“I should probably know a little more about claustrophobia.”
Joseph shrugged as he rubbed the palm of his hand up and down the arm of the rocker. “Go to the library.”
“The library?”
“Sure. They have these contraptions called computers.”
“I know about computers. How do you think I learned about tiny houses?”
“So . . . go learn about claustrophobia. That way you can help your friend.”
David didn’t bother to answer, but Joseph’s laughter followed him as he walked to the main house and clomped up to his room. Faith was his friend, and he wanted to help rather than hurt her. He needed to go into town the next day for supplies anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to stop and do a little research at the library.
It didn’t mean that what he felt for her was anything more than a crush.
They were obviously mismatched. A person with claustrophobia dating a man who built tiny houses? Sounded like a plot for one of the romance books she’d mentioned. But his life wasn’t anything like a romance book, and Faith . . . Well, he was pretty sure Faith didn’t think about him in that way.
He would focus on being a good friend and not worry about where it might or might not lead.
* * *
Faith had just finished helping in the serving line when Bishop Alton walked over and asked if she had a minute to talk. The church service had gone well and the day was sunny. They were meeting at the Shrock’s home, which was one of Faith’s favorite places. The yard opened out over a lovely view of a pond. Already the children were playing down at the water’s edge, closely monitored by older siblings.
She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Of course.” She was a bit alarmed when he turned and motioned for David to join them.
He must want to talk about the letters. She tried to temper her enthusiasm. He might only tell them he’d learned nothing at all. In which case, the letters would probably never be returned to their original owners.
They sat at one of the picnic tables, and her worries melted away. The bishop was smiling, and David looked relaxed. It must be good news.
“I have some answers for you.” Bishop Alton wiggled his eyebrows. “I believe I’ve found the Mary and Peter from your letters.”
“You have?” Faith immediately sat up straighter.
“So they’re still alive?” David asked.
“Are they married?”
“Are they near here?”
Bishop Alton held up a hand to stop their questions. “Mary Fisher is a widow now. She’s here in Shipshe, but in a different church district than ours. Back in 1970, when she was dating Peter Yutzy, her name was Glick.”
“Mary Glick and Peter Yutzy.” Faith shook her head. “I don’t know either of them.”
“No reason you would. It’s unlikely that your paths would have ever crossed. Peter now lives in Middlebury.”
“So they never married?” She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, but it was difficult. She’d already envisioned them with a house full of kinner and grandkinner. But their last names were different, so it was obvious they hadn’t married each other.
They’d so clearly been in love. What happened? How had it happened? And would they even want the letters now?
Bishop Alton pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and slid it across the picnic table. “Here are numbers for the phone shacks closest to each of them, if you’d like to contact them.”
David studied Faith for a moment, and then looked back at the bishop. “Do you think we should?”
He took his time answering. It was his way, Faith had learned. At times he took so long to reply she wondered if he’d even heard a question. But her mamm had explained that he was simply weighing his words, a habit they could all stand to practice more often.
Finally, Bishop Alton crossed his arms on the table and smiled at them. “Gotte’s ways are mysterious, yes?”
She and David both nodded.
“That package of letters was hidden beneath the kudzu vines for a very long time.” He studied Faith. “David says a stray dog ran into the vines, and that’s why you went in.”
“Ya.” She thought of the way Pebbles danced around her when she came home, how she already loved to chase after a ball, though she was more likely to fall on top of it than fetch it.
“Going into those vines must have been difficult for you. Gotte gave you a compassionate heart, Faith. You cared about that little dog more than your fear.”
“It already feels like we’ve had Pebbles for years instead of weeks.”
“You cared enough to go into a situation that might have otherwise scared you.”
“It did scare me—a little. But not as much as I would expect.” She’d wondered about that. Why hadn’t she had a panic attack under the kudzu vines? But then, she’d been so intent on finding the dog.
“Gotte directed your paths—both of you.” He looked at David and nodded. “I think it would be gut to see this through.”
And with that, he stood, wished them a fine Sabbath, and went to speak to Mr. Shrock.
“I guess that means we have his blessing,” Faith said.
“I guess it does.”
“So, do you want to call them?”
“Sure. I can do that.” David cleared his throat. “Hey, about what happened at my place—”
“We don’t have to talk about that.”
“I want to.”
Faith thought she might die of embarrassment right then. She’d actually been trying to avoid David before the bishop called him over. Now, the way he was looking at her—waiting for her to say something—she wished she could melt into the ground.
But she couldn’t, and perhaps she’d been running from who she was long enough. Instead of making an excuse and running away, she crossed her arms on the table and looked David in the eye.
“I had a panic attack, plain and simple. It was caused by my claustrophobia, which I’m learning to deal with. Certain situations can still bring on an attack though.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think about how being in a closed space might affect you—again. Call me a slow learner.”
“A slow learner?”
“Seems to be that way.”
“I think I remember you did well in school.”
“School was easy compared to life.”
That made her laugh, and then her embarrassment and defensiveness slipped away. David asked if she’d eaten, which she hadn’t because she’d been too busy serving the food.
He waited for her to make herself a plate and sat with her while she enjoyed the delicious food.
When she finished, David asked her to walk around the pond.
It was a fine spring Sunday. The strong winds from earlier in the week had died down. All around them trees were budding, the grass was sprouting, and flowers were beginning to bloom. It was almost as if nature were agreeing with her mood. They had a real chance to return the letters to Mary and Peter. She wondered what it must have been like to love someone so much and then see him sent away because of a war.
Glancing at David, she wondered if he’d ever been in love. She’d certainly never felt that way about anyone. Oh, she’d had a crush on a guy before—John Hochstettler in fifth grade came to mind. And she’d been infatuated by a couple different men—most recently her neighbor’s cousin who was visiting from Lancaster. But she’d never had the courage to do anything about those feelings. She’d never really wanted to do anything about them.
Had David ever seriously dated a woman?
She didn’t ask. It wasn’t really any of her business, and they weren’t close in that way. She had a sense that they were fast becoming friends, and she was learning that he was a good man, not nearly as somber as she’d thought—perhaps before she’d only noticed him when he was frowning. Now he seemed to wear a smile often, at least when she was around, and the smile accentuated how handsome he was.
Yes, she’d like to be friends with David Lapp, and maybe—well, maybe she could dare to hope that one day they might mean even more to one another. But for now, she’d push those dreams away and focus on their friendship.
That felt good and right.
For now, they needed to put to bed the mystery of the lost letters.