Driving Faith home from the restaurant after cleaning and locking up, Gideon was tempted to ask her if she was also awestruck by the shades of red, orange, and yellow that painted the sky. He gripped the reins, then stole a sideways glance at her. Seated on the edge of the bench, her back arched and neck stretched, she reminded him of a blue heron eyeing a rainbow trout. Faith was eyeing something, but it wasn’t the sunset. “What are you so interested in?”
“Bay doesn’t seem to be favoring his leg anymore.”
“Jah, his strides are even.” Gideon worked the reins. “I’ve had to hold him back. He keeps stretching his neck to gain more reins.”
She sank against the bench, her shoulder brushing against his. “I was a little worried when you offered to bring me to town this morning that he wasn’t ready, but the liniment must have worked.”
“Must have.” Gideon smiled. He had other thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts he’d have to suppress for another twelve weeks. Faith’s baptism classes went through September, and she wouldn’t be eligible to join the church until the first weekend in October when the next baptism service was held. Twelve weeks. Now he wished he hadn’t made that vow to wait to court her.
Bay lurched his neck and the reins slipped in Gideon’s hands as the gelding’s pace increased. The rhythmic clip-clopping of the horse’s hooves against the pavement indicated his legs were stronger. Still, Gideon couldn’t risk another injury. He tightened his grip on the reins, applying steady pressure to slow Bay to an easy trot.
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, the temperature was still unbearable. A hot summer evening like tonight would be a perfect time to sit on the porch and listen to the crickets sing. Gideon was about to make the suggestion when Faith yawned.
“You tired?” he asked.
“A little.” She yawned again. “What about you?”
“Nett yet.” He could stay up all night if they were sitting on the porch together, but he would wait for another day. He slowed Bay down even more, then turned into her driveway. He shifted positions on the bench to face her. “The barn chores are already done for tonight . . .” He left enough of a pause for her to offer him a cup of coffee, but she didn’t. “I’ll be over first thing in the morning to do the milking.”
“Gideon, you’ve been such a blessing to mei family. Danki.”
Sincere, but distant. Because she was tired?
She opened the passenger door.
“I’d like to give you a ride to work tomorrow,” he blurted.
“Okay.” She slid off the bench and before closing the door, added, “I’ll let Olivia know.”
Sure, her sister would need a ride too. It only made sense for him to take them both. He waited until Faith was safely inside and the lamplight shone through the window, then released the buggy brake. But something prevented him from signaling Bay to move. Unable to shake Faith’s disconnected tone of voice, he set the brake once again and piled out of the buggy. He bounded up the porch steps, taking two at a time, then knocked on the door.
Answering immediately, Faith puckered her brows. “Is it morning already?” A smile tugged her lips.
Twelve weeks. What happened to waiting to tell her how he felt? Despite warning bells going off, he stepped forward. “May I kumm in?”
Faith opened the door wider for Gideon to enter.
He wiped his boots on the braided rug longer than necessary.
“Is something wrong?” She’d never seen him this befuddled.
“Remember what I told you about Olivia?”
“Are you referring to that rumor? Gideon, I thought you were different. I thought—”
“It isn’t a rumor,” he said.
She eyed him closely. “What are you saying?”
“Will you go out to the barn with me? I’d like to show you something.”
“It’s getting late.” Olivia was due home anytime.
“Please? It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Faith motioned to the door. “Okay.”
They walked in silence to the barn. Gideon lit the lantern. “It’s up here,” he said, putting one foot on the ladder that led to the haymow.
She narrowed her eyes. “In the loft? Really?”
“Will you trust me, please?”
She did trust him. With her heart, and that was a mistake.
He didn’t say anything more until they had climbed the wooden ladder and were standing in the hayloft. “It’s over here.” He trounced across loose hay and went to the far side of the loft where he handed her the lantern, then knelt down. After a moment of searching under the hay, he produced a jar.
“This isn’t right,” Faith protested. “You should put that—”
Gideon unscrewed the lid and shook the money out.
Curiosity won out despite Faith’s efforts not to snoop. She knelt beside Gideon and peered at more money than she’d ever seen. “Olivia told me you two talked the other nacht. She said she’d been confused and you . . . understood. Did she tell you she stole this money?”
“Nay. I didn’t talk to her—I mean, we talked down by the stalls. And yes, Olivia said she was confused. She thought something was going on between you and me and—”
“You made it perfectly clear what Olivia walked in on in the barn wasn’t what she thought.” Faith pushed off the floor. “Make sure you put everything back the way you found it.” Wishing she’d never seen the money, Faith fled the loft. She ran out of the barn and back to the house.
At least he had the sense to leave. She waited until his buggy pulled out of the driveway before going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The kitchen counters looked like they did when there’d been a wake. Noodle casseroles, fresh-cut vegetables, a three-bean salad, pickled eggs, cucumber sandwiches, and a wide assortment of fruit, brownies, cookies, and cobblers. She only wanted a cup of herbal tea. So much food. The bowl of raspberries would certainly go to waste. Faith hadn’t eaten the berry since the time her lips puffed up like a yeast muffin. The doctor said allergies could get worse over the years and next time the swelling could close her airway.
Faith filled the kettle with water, but decided against making tea. With the windows closed all day, the July heat turned the house into an oven and making a fire to boil water for tea would only add to the misery. She filled a glass with tap water, then took it and the lantern to the bedroom. Maybe she would read her Bible while she waited for Olivia to get home.
Faith opened all the bedroom windows hoping to get a cross breeze flowing, but the stagnant air didn’t flutter the curtains even a little. She gazed out the window at the moon’s reflection on the pasture. God’s guiding light.
Lord, please protect Gideon on the road home. Keep him safe. Watch over mei parents, and, Lord, I ask that You take care of Liv. I don’t understand why she would steal or why she wants to leave the district, turning her back on our ways. I pray our parents’ accident was a wake-up call and she had a change of heart. Speak to her, Lord. Amen.
After changing into her nightclothes, Faith crawled under the bed sheets. She opened the Bible to Psalms and began reading from where she had left off last.
For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
Faith read a few more passages, then closed the Bible. But unable to sleep, she stared at the ceiling and listened for strange sounds. This was crazy. She climbed out of bed and retrieved her sewing project, a quilted journal cover for Olivia’s birthday, from under the bed. She’d only sewn a few squares when her eyelids grew heavy. Melting into the mattress, her thoughts drifted to Gideon. Her eyes shot open hearing something creak on the other side of the door. She shoved the quilting project under the covers as Olivia tiptoed into the room.
“Sorry if I woke you up.”
Faith pushed up on her elbow. “I heard Mamm might be discharged tomorrow.”
“Nett anymore. One of her kidneys is failing.”
“Failing!”
“I wanted to stay with her but she insisted I kumm home. She didn’t want you having to do everything by yourself.” Olivia crossed to her side of the room, retrieved a nightdress from the bottom dresser drawer, then began removing the straight pins that held the front of her dress together.
“She didn’t mention it when I spoke with her earlier.”
“I overheard her and the doktah talking about possible surgery to remove it, but like I said, she didn’t want me to stay.”
Faith squinted at the lamp’s flickering flame. The wick had burned down to almost nothing. “What time did visiting hours end?”
“I don’t know.” Her sister slipped off her kapp and combed her fingers through her hair. “We left after the nurse brought the supper tray.”
That was hours ago. Faith rested her back against the wooden headboard. “Did Beverly have car problems?”
“Nope. I was in town for a while.” She walked between the two beds and plopped down on the bed, collapsing against the mattress in a moan.
“How long?”
“A few hours. Why does it matter? You weren’t home when Beverly dropped me off, so I went into town.”
“Catherine and I could have used your help.” Faith paused, but Olivia offered no apology. “I know about your plans to jump the fence.”
“Is this about Gideon? Because I told you at the hospital, I’m confused.” She flipped over, the mattress springs jangling under her weight.
“It’s about Mamm and Daed. They need our help at the restaurant and around the haus. I’m sure Daed won’t be able to do the barn chores for a while. And if Mamm loses a kidney . . .”
Her sister was silent, but feigning sleep wouldn’t prevent this long-overdue conversation from happening. Hard to believe she’d actually missed Olivia last night.
“I know about the money you’ve been hiding in the barn,” Faith said.
Olivia flipped over. She glared at Faith with piercing eyes and furrowed brows, her face turning a deep red. “Keep your hands off it.”
“Oh, relax. I’m nett going to take it.” Faith leaned toward the nightstand in between the two beds and turned the lamp wick down. The escape into darkness held surprising relief. At least she’d broached the subject. Now it was up to God to work in Olivia’s heart.
As promised, Gideon was milking the cow the following morning when Faith went into the barn for chicken feed. She poked her head around the wall divider where he was seated on the stool next to the cow. “Guder mariye.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “I’m almost done.”
Her gaze fixed on the rhythmic movements of his shoulders. He had the thickest, strongest shoulders she’d ever seen. She rested her head against the wall and sighed.
After a few seconds, Gideon turned back and faced her. He cleared his throat and smiled.
Faith straightened. A flash of heat spread up her neck and settled in her cheeks. She was too old for such silliness. “I have to go collect the eggs,” she stammered, then scurried over to the grain bin and scooped some corn into a can.
The chickens didn’t need much. The lawn held plenty of bugs to feast on. With the flock distracted by the corn she’d scattered, she ducked into the coop. The strong stench of ammonia burned her eyes. Holding her breath, she gathered the eggs quickly. Changing the straw in the nesting boxes was another task to add to the list of chores. Other duties crowded her mind, and she mentally categorized their importance as she carefully stacked the eggs into the apron around her waist. Then, satisfied she’d collected them all, she escaped the coop. The door slammed and she leaned back against the shed wall, sucking in fresh air.
“Fumes bad?” Gideon chuckled a few feet away.
Faith nodded and wrinkled her nose as she pushed off the wall.
“When was the coop cleaned last?”
She shrugged. “Probably a month ago.” Daed kept the hen house clean. He changed out the straw every other week and tried to wash down the concrete floors at least monthly. She didn’t pay much attention until it got bad like today. Her eyes were watery and she might not ever clear the stench in her nostrils.
Gideon walked with her to the house, carrying the milk canister. Faith held the door open, then followed him into the kitchen. Olivia wasn’t up, not surprising.
Gideon nodded his head at the counter. “I see a food drive was organized.”
“It showed up yesterday,” she said, clearing a spot for the milk canister. “Do you see anything you’d like to eat? It’s going to go bad if I don’t do something with it.”
“Danki, but I’ve already eaten breakfast.” He set the milk canister down, then inspected the different containers of food. “The brownies look gut.”
“Help yourself. Olivia and I won’t eat them all.”
“Olivia’s home?”
“She’s sleeping in.” Faith hoped the sarcasm wasn’t evident. She lowered the eggs one by one into the basin.
Gideon sidled up beside her at the sink. “Gut.”
“Gut?” She eyed him hard. He seemed happy, his smile almost gloating. Focus your thoughts. She scrubbed an egg.
“Need help?” He picked up a dish towel.
She rinsed the egg and handed it to him. Although they worked in silence, the noise going on in her head made it hard to focus. She finished washing the last egg and handed it to him to dry. “I told Olivia I knew about the money she stashed in the barn.”
“What did she say?”
“That I should keep mei hands off it.”
Gideon didn’t look surprised. As if allowing her to draw her own conclusion, he set the egg in the basket with the others, then handed her the dish towel without saying anything.
“Go ahead—say it—I told you so.” Faith wiped her hands on the towel and tossed it on the counter.
Gideon picked up the basket. “Is this all you’re taking into town?”
She glanced at the food. “Would you mind if we make an extra stop? I’d like to drop some of this food off at the homeless shelter.”
“Sure.”
Faith gathered several containers, including the raspberries. “Don’t tell anyone I’m getting rid of the food.”
Gideon frowned. “You mean don’t tell mei mamm you’re giving away the raspberries I picked for her?”
“Ach, I didn’t know your mother arranged all of this.”
“That’s okay. She probably doesn’t know you’re allergic to raspberries.”
“Would you like to take them back home?”
“Nay. We have plenty. I think what you’re doing is kind.”
“I’m casting mei bread into the water,” she said.
His brows crinkled.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you on the way into town.” She handed Gideon the basket of eggs, then picked up the dishes of food and headed to the door.
The ride into town went quickly. Gideon chatted about his plans to clear more land and increase his crop size. He also shared his ideas of turning his apple groves into a U-Pick farm in the future.
The volunteers at the homeless shelter were thrilled with the donation, and Faith was pleased the food wouldn’t go to waste. Once they reached The Amish Table, she shifted on the bench to face Gideon. “Do you want to kumm in for kaffi?”
He shook his head. “I have fieldwork to do before it gets too hot. After that I’m going to try to work on a new watering system.” He explained how laborious it was to haul water from the pump to his orchards and his idea of building some sort of holding tanks at various locations in the fields to catch rainwater.
“Your day sounds full.”
“I might be tied up for a few days,” he said, adding, “I’ll still take care of your daed’s barn chores, but do you think Catherine can give you a ride to and from work?”
Her heart sank, but she forced a smile, hoping it hid her disappointment. “I’m sure she will.”
He lowered his gaze and a smile upturned the corners of his mouth. After a second he looked up and locked eyes with her. “But who knows, things could change.”