Saving Gideon (13 page)

The hen house was one of the little faded buildings next to an empty pen that should have contained goats or pigs. Judging by the smell, she was betting on pigs. The squat building had a ramp that led inside and a small opening that she had to stoop to get through. She slipped back into the sandals and ducked inside.

Fingers of sunshine shone inside the henhouse, their staggering rays of light streaming through the wire-covered windows lining the top of each wall. Dust and feathers danced on the beams as she made her way inside. It smelled almost as bad as the pig pen. Almost. Dank and stuffy, she didn’t know what the chickens saw in the place. But they had eggs, so in she went.

What was it Lizzie had said?
Just go up to the chicken on the roost. Stick your hand underneath her and take the eggs like they belong to you.

Like they belonged to her.

Avery wasn’t exactly sure what a roost was, but she had to assume it was some sort of Amish word for nest. If that were true, then all of the chickens were on the roost.

She looked around until she spotted a hen, a pretty, rusty-orange colored one that looked nice. At least her beak didn’t turn down as much at the corners as the others’ did.

“Good morning.” She nodded toward the bird.

At the sound of her voice, the hen jerked her beak back and forth, then turned her head away as if she had better things to do than deal with a lowly human.

“I just need to get a couple of your eggs.” The green shower flops slapped against her heels as she stepped nearer. The chicken jerked once again. Avery inched closer, doing her best not to lift her feet and make any more noise than necessary.

“Aren’t you a pretty . . . chicken?”

She reached out a hand, slowly as to not disturb the hen. Fingers shaking, she hoped the fat, red bird wouldn’t notice. Avery was supposed to act like she knew what she was doing. Wasn’t that what Lizzie had told her?

But when she got near enough to the chicken, so near she could almost touch the tips of those rusty-colored feathers, the bird moved with lightning speed.

In a flash, Avery drew back, cradling her stinging hand close to her chest. “Ow.”

An angry welt had already started to form between her thumb and forefinger. Luckily, no blood.

She propped her hands on her hips and eyed the fat hen. “So that’s how this is going to be, is it?”

The chicken stared back with blank eyes.

Avery reached out again, proud of the fact that even though the hen had pecked her once, her fingers were steady. She could do this.

Lightning speed. Another welt. This one on the back of her hand.

“Ouch.”

But she needed those eggs.

She inched her fingers close to the hen, but the crazy bird lifted herself up in her nest, flapping her wings and squawking. All the other hens started flapping their wings, too, and screeching, the cacophony almost more than she could stand. Avery backed up a step, and the hen followed, hopping down to the planked floor of the henhouse. Avery screamed, and fled from the building, the hen viciously pecking behind her.

Wishing she had shut the door to the henhouse, Avery neither stopped nor looked back until she was safely on the porch.

She pressed a hand to her thumping heart and took a deep breath, finally turning around to see if she had been followed.
Whew
. No rogue chickens snapping their way across the yard. Safe for now.

“Annie, what’s all the commotion back here?”

She peered up to find Gideon watching her. “Uh . . . nothing.” She clasped her hands behind her, hoping she didn’t leave a smear of blood on her dress. She couldn’t stop the flush of heat that filled her cheeks.
Some surprise this was turning out to be
.

“It is a sin to lie.”

Why did he have to employ the same tone that he used with Lizzie? He even lifted his eyebrows in that
Isn’t there something you want to tell me?
look she had seen often enough.

She let out a discouraged sigh. “I wanted to cook you some eggs for breakfast.”

He nodded and crossed his arms as if he were settling in to hear her tale. “
Jah
.”

“Before I could cook the eggs, I had to get them.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. No sooner had the words left her mouth when Gideon jogged toward her, pulling her hands from behind her, and holding them in his own. He turned them this way and that, examining the peck marks left by the angry red hen. He ran his thumb over one of the marks, his touch alone soothing the reddened skin.

“I should wring her neck and let Katie Rose make a fine Sunday supper from what’s left,” Gideon said, still holding her fingers in his own.

“Please don’t.” Avery tugged her hands away. She feared that with a little time she would get entirely too accustomed to his touch. “Lizzie said I had to take charge when I went in there. I guess the hen could smell my hesitation.”

“That hen is a menace. Should have eaten her months ago.” His eyes grew more serious, his mouth a thin line turned down at the corners.

He looked so stern that Avery couldn’t stop the giggle from bubbling up inside her. She slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop it from escaping, but too late. The laugh burst forth, followed by another.

She held her sides, laughing, with Gideon chuckling right alongside her. The tension in her body drained away, and the silliness of the situation shone clear.

Hearing Gideon’s laugh revived something in her, but it sounded rusty, as if it hadn’t been used in awhile. She hadn’t had anything to laugh about in quite some time, herself. The pleasure that she could share this moment with him overwhelmed her.

She wiped tears from her face, her giggles finally subsiding. “There are eight hens in there. How do you know which one pecked me?”

“It was the fat red one for sure and for certain.”

“Nope, it was the black one.”

“It is a sin to lie, Annie.”

Maybe the fat red chicken was a menace after all
. “Promise me we won’t eat that hen.”

He twisted his mouth as if trying to decide how to answer.

“Promise me, Gideon. She was only trying to protect her eggs.”

A full minute passed before he answered. “
Jah
, then. We won’t eat the hen.”

Avery nodded, satisfied.

“For now,” he said before ducking into the henhouse.

Not a squawk could be heard. Avery waited, her breath held. Then Gideon returned holding four fresh eggs in one big hand. “Come. I’ll show you how to make dippy eggs.”

Avery tilted her chin. “Dippy eggs?” She followed behind as Gideon led the way into the house.

Gideon nodded. “But first.” He directed her toward the sink, then washed her hands gently, his warmth heating her fingers despite the coolness of the water. The angry, red wounds needed to be cared for to keep them from getting infected, but Avery couldn’t look Gideon in the eye as he dabbed the marks with antibiotic cream and covered them with plain, beige bandage strips.

“There,” he said, standing up. “Now for breakfast.” Avery noticed he had trouble looking at her squarely as well.

“Thank you,” she murmured, grateful when the intimate moment passed, and yet sad at the same time that it was over.

Dippy eggs turned out to be eggs over easy. To Avery, they tasted a lot like heaven. Or perhaps it was the company. As much as she enjoyed spending time with Gideon, she preferred to believe that the fresh eggs were the reason this morning’s breakfast had seemed so special indeed.

Gideon sat back in his chair. “Today I’m going to plow the fields across the road.”

Avery scooped another forkful of eggs. “Where my car was?”

“
Jah
. Gabe and Simon will be here this afternoon to help as well. It should go quick.”

She nodded, wishing once again that she could cook so she could make him something more substantial for supper. “Lizzie is coming by to help me clear the garden plot so we can plant vegetables.”
And strawberry plants
. She hoped the small gesture could repay him for all the kindness he had shown her.

“You needn’t do that.”

“I want to.” That was the truth. She found it relaxing to dig in the dirt—even when destroying perfectly healthy strawberry plants. There was something special about connecting to the earth, a holiness in gardening, and a uniqueness about time spent outdoors with nothing but the ground beneath her and the sun shining on her shoulders.

He gave her a quick nod and a lingering smile. “There are stakes in the barn for when you need them.”

“Stakes?”

“To tie up the plants. Tomatoes and string beans.”

There was more to gardening than she knew, but she would learn. For as long as she stayed here, anyway. Just how would her father take her newly-found love of gardening once she returned to Dallas? He might actually approve. Her love of the outdoors would save him a fortune in landscaping.

The days before the frolic were filled with chores and visits from Mary Elizabeth, but seemed to drag by just the same. Avery was excited to be able to witness the Amish working together.

“It’s no barn raising,” Mary Elizabeth explained as they hoed rows of the recently cleared garden plot.

“I’ve heard about those. That really happens?”

“Of course. The whole district comes. This weekend, there’ll only be a few families there.”

“I’m still impressed. If we need a new roof, my father’s assistant calls a roofing company.”

“I’m impressed that you talked
Onkel
into going.”

Avery stopped hoeing and turned to the younger girl. “It was strange, you know. Like some voice inside me saying not to let him stay at home. Crazy, huh?”

Mary Elizabeth smiled. “That’s the voice of God.”

Avery cocked her head to one side and gave the idea some thought. “Really?”

“I’m sure of it.” Mary Elizabeth began a new row, and Avery started across from her.

She let the idea sink in, then took a measured breath. “I’m really grateful your aunt is willing to help me learn to cook.”

“You’ll like Katie Rose. Everybody does.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

Mary Elizabeth smiled. “She’s the kindest person I know.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Avery broke the country quiet once again. “You’re sure it’s okay for me to go without any shoes?” She looked down at her bare feet, half-buried in freshly-turned earth. She couldn’t remember a time when she had gone barefoot like this. Maybe on the beach, but this was different. She had been barefoot for days, inside and outside the house. She liked the freedom of it. She would never ever go without shoes in Dallas, but out here, it felt right.

Mary Elizabeth smiled. “Of course. But I will see if I can find you a pair, if’n you want. There’s just not much need to wear shoes in the summer.”

“I suppose not.” She glanced down at her grimy feet. She felt free and breezy, but she’d have to give them a good scrubbing tonight just the same. Avery straightened and looked down the lines of mounded dirt. “What are we going to plant again?”

“Food for the table.” Mary Elizabeth counted on her fingers. “Peas and tomatoes. Watermelon, cantaloupe, okra, cucumbers, some string beans. Oh, and a couple rows of corn.”

“But Gideon planted fields of corn.”

Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “Feed grade for the animals, and to sell to other farmers to feed their stock. This is sweet corn.”

Avery nodded and went back to her task. “Do you really think Gideon will keep up the garden after I leave?”

Mary Elizabeth frowned. “I do not like to think about you going.”

“I’ll have to, eventually.”

“But I prayed for you.”

Avery stopped and eyed Lizzie curiously. “You did?”

“I asked God to bring someone to help Gideon, and He sent you.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t stay here forever.”

Mary Elizabeth scrunched up her brow. “Why not?”

“I have a family and obligations.” The thought of staying here, at least awhile longer, kept creeping back into her mind. She wanted to stay and watch the miracle of the garden, the little seeds they had planted turn into food large enough to feed them.

To sit across from Gideon . . . every day.

She shook away that thought. The Dunstan Pro-Am was less than two weeks from now, and she needed to be there. The weight of that responsibility settled heavy on her chest, uncomfortable and stifling.

All her life, she had been her father’s show pony, her makeup always just right, the finest clothes, an expensive car—everything to illustrate her father’s success to the world. Until now, she had not realized the strain this materialistic lifestyle had put on her. Now that she was away from all that, she felt relaxed. Free. Amish life seemed so natural, so unassuming.

She had once wondered why anyone would live the way the Amish do—separated from modern society without electricity or cars—but after these past few days with Gideon, she understood. The serenity among the Amish was unparalleled. Avery could see why the Plain people lived in this manner and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live like this the rest of her life.