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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance

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BOOK: Going Home
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“I think it would be best if I—”

The back door swung open and Papa rushed into the kitchen. His face was flushed, and his eyes looked huge as silver dollars.

Mama left the stove and hurried to his side. “Menno, what’s wrong?”

He tried to catch his breath. When Mama handed him a glass of water, he shook his head and pushed it away. “Always trouble somewhere.”

“What kind of trouble?” she asked in a tone of concern.

“Old Ben’s dead. Found him lying on the floor in his stall this morning.”

Mama gasped, and everyone else stood like statues.

“I blame myself for this.” Papa clasped his hands together. “I’ve been using that horse in the fields every day this week, and I think I must have worked the poor creature to death.”

Mama touched Papa’s arm. “Menno, think about what you’re saying. You’ve had Ben for nigh onto twenty-five years. A year ago, you tried to put him out to pasture, but he wasn’t content. He liked to work with the other horses and was bound to die sooner or later.” She sighed deeply. “At least the horse perished doing what he liked to do best.”

Papa blinked a couple of times, and Faith wondered if he was
struggling not to cry. “Mama’s right,” she agreed. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for this.”

He stared past her as though he hadn’t heard her. “The boys and I are in the middle of harvest, so I need that animal. Jeb and Buck can’t do the work of three horses, and I can’t afford to buy another one just now.”

Mama pushed the skillet of pancakes to the rear of the stove, and she dropped into a seat at the table with a moan. Grace Ann and Esther went immediately to her side, each of them patting her on the back. Melinda and Susie, obviously uncomfortable, scooted quickly out of the room. Faith, unable to think of anything more to say, stood off to the side with her arms folded.

“If you hadn’t had to spend most of our savings on doctor bills and physical therapy because of my leg, we’d have the money we need to buy a new horse,” Mama said with a shake of her head.

“It’s not your fault, Wilma. Falling down the cellar stairs was an accident, plain and simple.” Papa took a seat across from Mama and let his head fall forward into his hands. “Guess I could ask some of our church members to help out, but others have needs, too, and I hate to be asking for more money.”

Faith moved to the side of the table and placed her hand on her father’s shoulder as she made a painful decision. “I have some money saved up from when I was entertaining. I’ll give it to you so you can buy a new horse.”

Papa sat up straight and turned in his chair to look at Faith. His beard jiggled as a muscle in his jaw quivered. “You–you’d be willing to do that?”

Faith didn’t understand why he was so surprised. Amish
family members and friends helped each other all the time. Of course, most offers didn’t come from wayward daughters returning home with money they’d made entertaining worldly English folks. Faith had been holding on to this money so she could start over when she left Webster County. If she gave her father the cash, she would be staying here even longer. Even so, this was a chance to prove that she wasn’t such a bad daughter, after all—maybe even show Papa she cared about the welfare of her family. “I want you to use the money,” she insisted.

He sat silently and then finally nodded. “Jah, okay, but I plan to pay the money back as soon as I’m able.”

“Der Herr sie gedankt,”
Mama said with a catch in her voice.

Faith swallowed hard in an attempt to push down the lump that had formed in her throat as she heard her mother thank God. She was happy to be helping her folks in their moment of need, but at the same time, she felt a sense of sadness. She had no idea how long it would take for Papa to pay her back. Certainly not until the harvest was over and he’d been paid for his crops. At the rate things were going, would she ever see the bright stage lights or hear the roar of the audience’s laughter again?

Chapter 21

N
oah shifted on the backless wooden bench as he glanced over at the women’s side of the room and spotted Faith. Ever since the preaching service had begun this morning, he’d had a hard time concentrating on anything other than her. He hoped he might be able to speak with Faith after the noon meal, and he had brought an apple crumb pie to give her with Romans 5:1–2 attached to it: “Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.”

Noah wasn’t trying to be pushy, but as Faith’s friend, it was his Christian duty to help strengthen her faith. Truth be told, he was beginning to see her as more than a friend, and if there was any chance for them to have a permanent relationship, he had to be sure she had an interest in him and most of all that she
was secure in her faith in God. But how would he know if there was another man in her life or if her faith had grown unless he came right out and asked? Did he dare take the chance? What if she got angry and turned away from him? What if because he questioned her, she decided to leave? He didn’t want to be responsible for Faith leaving Webster County.

Noah squeezed his eyes shut and offered a silent prayer.
Dear Lord, please help Faith be receptive to the scripture verses I plan to give her today. And I’m hoping she will be receptive to the questions I have for her, as well
.

When Faith finished eating her meal and had taken a seat under the weeping willow tree on the south side of Jacob Raber’s house, she spotted Noah heading her way. He held a pie in his hands, and she licked her lips in anticipation. As far as she was concerned, Noah was the best baker in Webster County, and she hoped the pie was for her.

“Would you like to have a seat?” Faith asked as Noah approached the quilt she’d spread on the ground.

“Jah, sure.” He sat down beside her and placed the pie pan in her lap. “This is for you. It’s an apple crumb pie.”

“Thanks. I needed something to cheer me up today.”

The wrinkles in Noah’s forehead showed his obvious concern. “What’s wrong? Is your mamm’s leg acting up again?”

Faith shook her head. “It’s not Mama this time. One of my dad’s workhorses died yesterday, and now he’s faced with buying
a new one.” She chose not to mention that she’d offered to loan him the money. No point making it seem as though she was bragging. Faith was well aware of the stand her people took on hochmut. She also wasn’t about to share her disappointment in not being able to return to entertaining.

“That’s a shame about the horse. With this being harvest-time and all, everyone needs all the help they can get. That includes the assistance of their horses and mules.” He offered her a sympathetic smile. “Once the word gets out, others in the community will help—either with the loan of a horse or some money.”

“That won’t be necessary. It’s been taken care of.”

“That’s good. Glad to hear it.”

Faith popped a couple of knuckles, then clasped her hand tightly to keep from doing the rest. If Papa found her habit annoying, Noah might, too. She was glad he hadn’t asked who had provided the money. “My family has sure had their share of problems lately. It doesn’t seem fair, and it worries me that something else might happen.”

“The rain falls on the just, same as it does the unjust,” Noah reminded.

Faith had heard that verse before, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with things when they went wrong. Besides, she wasn’t sure she was one of the “just.” If Noah or her family had any idea she was planning to return to the English world, they might see her as a sinner.

“All these problems don’t do much to strengthen my faith,” she muttered.

Noah motioned to the pie. “I attached another verse. Maybe that will help.”

She groaned inwardly.
Another reminder of the error of my ways. Just what I don’t need this afternoon
. Maybe what she needed was to change the subject.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something, Noah, but I wasn’t sure if I should.”

He tipped his head. “What’s that?”

“I overheard your mother talking to my mother awhile back, and then she said something to Isaac Troyer.”

“About what?”

Faith moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Well, I got the impression that you might be planning to be married in November.”

Noah’s face flamed, and he looked away. Was he too embarrassed to talk about it? “I probably shouldn’t have brought it up,” she murmured. “It’s none of my business anyway.”

“I don’t know where my mamm got the impression I’m about to be married.”

“Then it’s not true?”

He shook his head.

“But what about that woman I saw you with at Baldy’s Café a few months ago?”

“Huh?”

“I saw you sitting in a booth, having lunch with a young Amish woman, and I assumed it was—”

“Oh, you must mean Mary. She’s my cousin, and she had come down from Jamesport to speak with her boyfriend, who’d
jilted her. He’d left for Illinois before she got here. Then she asked if I would give her a ride to the gas station so she could catch a bus home, but we had lunch at Baldy’s first.”

Faith inhaled deeply, feeling as if the breath had been squeezed clean out of her lungs. All this time she’d thought Noah had a girlfriend, when he’d just been having lunch with his cousin. She toyed with the strings on her prayer kapp. “But if you don’t have a girlfriend, then why would your mother think you were seeing someone?”

A deep shade of red spread across Noah’s cheeks. “Well—uh—she knows I’ve been seeing you.”

“Me?” Faith’s heart began to hammer. Surely Noah didn’t see her in any light other than friendship.

He nodded. “We went to see Hank’s Christmas tree farm, and I’ve gone over to your place several times to help with Melinda’s studies and to give you a hand with some chores.” He snatched up a blade of grass and bit off the end. “Guess maybe Mom could have assumed
we
were courting.”

If Noah’s mother thought that, did others, as well? While Faith felt a sense of unexplained relief to hear Noah wasn’t courting anyone, she didn’t think it was good if others had linked her and Noah together as a couple. No telling what rumors might be flying around.

“It would probably be good if you made sure your mother knows the truth,” Faith said after a long pause. “So she doesn’t tell others there’s going to be a wedding come November.”

Noah chewed on the blade of grass and looked at Faith in such a tender way it made her stomach do little somersaults.
“Uh, Faith, there’s something more I’d like to say. A question I want to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“The day I was with my cousin at Baldy’s, I saw you there with a tall English man.”

Faith grimaced.
Oh, great. How am I going to explain things to Noah without telling him I was talking to my future agent?

“Was that fellow your boyfriend, Faith?”

“What? Oh, no, definitely not,” she sputtered. “He was just. . .uh. . .an acquaintance from the entertainment business, nothing more.”

A look of relief flooded Noah’s face, but Faith barely noticed. All she wanted to do was nip this thing in the bud about her and Noah being an item.

Holding on to the pie, she clambered to her feet. “I–I’d better get going.” She wasn’t sure what he planned to say, but she knew it was important for her to let folks know they weren’t courting. She would start with Barbara, who was sitting on the Rabers’ porch, blowing bubbles with her two young sons.

“Thanks for the pie,” she called over her shoulder.

Faith made a beeline for the house, where she put the pie in the refrigerator. Then she headed for the front porch.

Barbara turned when Faith stepped outside. “Hey! Want to join us in some fun?” She lifted a bubble wand in the air and waved it about.

“Actually, I’d like to have a little heart-to-heart talk, if you don’t mind.”

Barbara scooted over, making room for Faith on the step. “Have a seat, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

Faith sat down and cleared her throat a couple of times. “I’d kind of hoped we could talk in private.”

“Oh, sure. No problem at all.” Barbara leaned over and said to her boys, “Why don’t you two go find Susie and Melinda? They’d probably like to blow a few bubbles, too.”

BOOK: Going Home
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