Posen, Michigan
Present day
Of course I’m nett going to jump the fence. I’m talking about Olivia.” Gideon tossed a stone into the river. He wasn’t sure if he should be hurt, shocked, or offended that Faith would think he might be tempted to walk away from his beliefs.
“Then what makes you think she’s planning to leave?”
“Olivia’s been going to the library every day. Sometimes she’s alone, sometimes she’s with a group of Englischers . . . chummy.” He spotted a rainbow trout making its way against the current and couldn’t help but compare its struggle against the flow to his relationship with Olivia. Granted, their plans to marry had been unofficial since Olivia hadn’t wanted anyone to know until after they had both joined the church. Perhaps she’d gotten cold feet about marrying him before she backed out of baptism, but because the Ordnung forbids marriages of the unequally yoked, their wedding plans were indefinitely put on hold—and for good reason.
Faith plopped down on the rocky embankment where she’d left her shoes.
Gideon sat beside her. “I’m worried about Olivia.” His words spilled out of his mouth. Faith was a good listener and so easy to talk to that she made it easy for him not to have to censor his words.
“I don’t know how Olivia spends her free time, we’ve never been close. But she still covers her shifts at work. She hasn’t left Mamm in a lurch.” Faith sighed. “Some people need longer to sort out their decision of baptism and joining the church. Besides, hanging out at the library doesn’t seem that bad.”
“We were supposed to get married.”
Her smile faded. Faith shifted her attention downstream to where a blue heron fished for food. “Like I said,” she said, breaking the silence, “some people need more time. And it isn’t like she’s drinking or experimenting with drugs like others have done on rumspringa.”
“I’m nett so sure.” He inhaled the scent of dank river water and let the breath out slowly. “I saw her giving money to an Englischer.”
“And?”
“The library might be a location for drug exchange.”
“I don’t believe that.” She grabbed her shoes and climbed the embankment.
He hadn’t meant to upset her. He’d better tell her another time about the rumors he’d heard. His foot slipped on a rocky section and he came down hard on his knee. “Ouch!”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Jah.” He limped up to the top of the embankment. A strong breeze threatened to steal his straw hat, but he pressed it firmly on his head.
Faith smiled.
“You think mei big ears curling under this brim are amusing, don’t you nau?”
“Your ears aren’t overly big.”
“Overly,” he repeated. Growing up the youngest, he’d taken the brunt of many jokes for his big ears, but seeing Faith struggle to smother her smile, he would wear his hat like this every day.
The tall grassy meadow bent in the wind, and a large flock of iridescent blue grackles took flight as dark clouds moved toward them. “Kumm on, it’s getting ready to rain,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”
“Danki, but I can walk.” In no hurry to leave, she swept sand off her wet dress.
“Why are you being stubborn, Faith?”
She looked up. “Olivia’s already mad at me. Things will get worse if she gets the wrong idea about us spending time together.”
“That’s nonsense. You’re like . . . a little sister—Olivia’s little schweschaler.” He needed to make the relationship clear for his benefit as well. He’d already had his heart broken by one Pinkham woman; the likelihood of developing a relationship with her sister was as slim as the sliver of sunlight peeking through the gloomy afternoon clouds. At least that’s what he needed to keep telling himself. Especially after spending any amount of time with her. The woman’s laugh was contagious. Stop, Faith is a friend—nothing more.
“You don’t understand. When it comes to Olivia . . . Well, let’s just say I’ve turned my cheek so many times, I’m dizzy.”
“I’m sorry she’s curt with you.”
“Olivia has always thought Mamm and Daed treat me differently. Even as kinner, she used to say I didn’t belong and that our parents should send me back.”
Gideon chuckled. “That would be rather difficult.”
The wind picked up and Faith turned, shielding her face. She balanced on one leg and shoved her foot into her black leather loafer, then readjusted her balance and put on the other shoe, her teeth chattering the entire time. “I have to go before someone sees me like this.”
“You’re wet and kalt. I’m taking you home.” Gideon placed his hand on her back.
She stood a little straighter, building a wall of resistance in her stare, then crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.
“Kumm on,” he persisted. “I can get you home a lot faster.”
Faith glared at him a half second longer. “Fine, I’ll ride with you, but if something gets back to Olivia, or the bishop, or—”
“Don’t worry. Nothing will keep you from being baptized and joining the church.” He hobbled barefooted down the pine-needle path, Faith walking more than an arm’s length away off to his side. Her enthusiasm to join the church was something he’d only seen in someone pledged to wed—unfortunately, he’d never seen the same glint in Olivia’s eyes.
Gideon swallowed the bitter memory and fed his mind with uplifting thoughts. It’s a new day. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. He viewed the canopy of velvety green maple leaves above them, shaking in the breeze, and smiled, declaring to himself that no matter what trial came, his faith wouldn’t be shaken. Not by Olivia, not by anyone.
“So are you still going to marry my sister when she returns from rumspringa?”
“She won’t return.”
“But if she does,” Faith prodded.
“Nay,” he said sharply, more to tamp his wishy-washy thoughts than to stifle their conversation. But Faith kept silent during the last stretch of the wooded path.
At the buggy, he opened the back end and removed a quilt he kept stashed for winter weather. He came up behind her and draped the cover over her shoulders. “This should help warm you up. I hope it doesn’t smell too much like Bay.” The horse blanket was all he had. Hopefully she wouldn’t recognize it as the quilt Olivia had made for him. After she ditched him, he’d found a more fitting use as a cover for his horse than on his bed.
“This is perfect.” Faith snuggled into its cottony softness, pulling it tighter around her neck. “It’s strange how it can feel kalt in the middle of summer.”
Northern Michigan was unpredictable. Lake effects even in July could send a damp chill to your bones. He scanned the sky. It wouldn’t be too much longer before the sun fell behind the trees, claiming even more daylight. He opened the buggy passenger door and helped gather the bulk of the blanket so Faith could climb onto the bench. “I need to run down to the river and grab mei boots,” he said once she was situated. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Gideon sprinted the few yards to the edge of the river, retrieved his boots, and hurried back to the buggy as the clouds burst with rain. “It’s going to get bad fast,” he said, disengaging the buggy brake.
He didn’t mind getting wet. The rain would be good for his blueberry plants and apple orchard, but Bay didn’t like the rolling thunder. The young, spirited horse and strengthening storm wasn’t an ideal combination. Bay tossed his head. Lightning flashed and seconds later a large oak split down the middle. The cracking timber sound spooked Bay and the reins slipped between Gideon’s wet hands.