Healing Faith (10 page)

Was he still around, or had he left? Was it safe for
me to leave yet?

Why did the idea of leaving make me unbearably
melancholy?

"So Katherine?” Fannie exclaimed with a bright smile
as she walked back inside. “I will make the bread pudding and milk
pie if you will help me make the fruit pies.”

I nodded and remained quiet as I took in the
ingredients Fannie had pulled out. Lard, flour, salt, sugar, spices
and as I took it all in Fannie pulled out bowls and a rolling pin.
She smiled a little wider when she took in my soft smile.

"I take it you know how to make a proper crust?" she
asked.

"You could say I’m an expert at making pie. It's
something I love to do," I said proudly and took the tools from her
as well as the apron she handed me.

She watched me with an appraising eye for a moment,
checking on my measurements before moving away to start her bread
pudding. I was fast learning that the Amish loved bread. And
anything that could be reused found its way into a new meal. The
bread pudding took the mornings bread and made a raisin and
cinnamon baked dessert.

We worked quietly, laughing now and again when
Abigail would steal an apple that Emma cut. Hannah came in shortly
after with a large pail full of ripe blackberries and handed them
to me before stalking off, volunteering to gather up chairs and
blankets for the day. I felt a moment's frustration at her
attitude, but washed it away just as I washed the berries,
preparing them for the first round of pies to be baked.

Fannie watched me a little more closely as I rolled
out three crusts for the blackberry pies, nodding when I added the
right amount of sugar and lemon juice. I was a little nervous, I'll
admit. My mother had never watched me when I baked. But Fannie
truly seemed interested in how I managed around the kitchen. And I
would admit, I showed off a little when I added the top crust with
little overlaid crust leaves on top, sealing it with a light egg
wash. Even Emma was impressed.

"You make it look so pretty. I will not want to eat
it," she giggled and helped me place it into the heated oven.

Turning back to the table, I pulled out the next
batch of dough balls for the apple pies and set to rolling them
out. Fannie took that time to settle in beside me and roll out her
crust for her pie as well. She was quiet as we labored, the kitchen
already starting to grow warm with the morning sunlight and the
heated oven. When she finally spoke, we were just starting to form
the crust into the next line of pie plates.

"You seem to enjoy baking, Katherine. It is not a
common practice for girls your age in your world, yes?" she asked
softly.

I shrugged and worked a little harder at the mixing
up the apples into the sugar and cinnamon.

"No, I just found I loved to bake. I wanted to go to
school for baking, but Sean," I started, only to close my mouth
tight and frown into the apple-laden bowl. I could feel my heart
thumping hard just at mention of his name.

"Your Sean did not approve of you learning to
bake?"

I shook my head and let out a low laugh.

"No, he just didn't want me to do it for other
people," I replied, spooning the apples into my crusts to distract
myself from the fear I could feel welling up inside.

"Is Sean your betrothed?" she asked softly.

I shook my head again vehemently.

"He was my boyfriend. Not really my betrothed as you
think of it, but he was rather possessive of me," I said, glancing
at her cautiously.

Would she understand what I meant without having to
tell my story?

She simply nodded as she continued with her custard
pie. She did not ask and I felt relieved to not answer. They’d want
to know eventually, but for now they were being patient. They
respected my silence.

But they would ask, I knew.

I made the same fancy embellishment on the top of my
apple pies and set them into the oven over the blackberry pies,
which were nearly done. Glancing out the window it looked to be
still early in the morning, perhaps a couple of hours after dawn.
At home I would be just getting up, starting my day. Here, I had
already eaten and made half a dozen pies.

I thought again of my sister and I wondered if my
cell phone had service this far out. I needed to call her. I
excused myself for a moment, sneaking back upstairs to my backpack.
Digging around, I found my phone buried deep in the bottom. Turning
it on, I sighed in frustration at the lack of service and shut it
back down. I'd have to go into town to make my call to let her know
I was all right and somehow figure out my next move.

Surely Sean would be gone. It had been three days. I
made the decision then that I would leave tomorrow. I closed up my
bag and shoved it back under the bed before turning to find Emma in
the doorway, her large eyes sad.

"You cannot leave yet."

I blinked at her words.

Had I spoken my thoughts out loud?

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

She came into the room a little further, her arms
folded tightly across her chest.

"You are thinking of leaving us. You cannot leave
yet. Please," she whispered. Her plea was so genuine; all I could
do was nod. She grasped my hand and pulled me back downstairs, her
voice a whisper as she led me back into the kitchen.

"You have much to experience still, Katherine. And
you have a reason for being here, I am sure of it," she said with a
smile. Again my thoughts leapt to the Amish man, and then to his
discomfort around me.

"I'm hiding like a coward, Emma. There is nothing
special about that," I replied as we came back into the kitchen.
Fannie caught the tail end of our conversation and frowned.

"There is hiding and there is fleeing, Katherine. I
have a suspicion it is more the latter in your case," she said and
started removing the blackberry pies from the oven to make room for
her bread pudding and custard pies. When she turned back to me, I
saw the question in her eyes.

"So Katherine, which is it? Are you hiding to avoid
your duties to your life, or are you fleeing for your safety?" she
asked directly.

I felt the table against my back as I leaned against
it, suddenly very weary. I looked away from Fannie's worried gaze
and let out a long breath, preparing to detail my life and why I
was running away. Somehow I knew they would see me for a coward and
admonish me for not staying strong in my relationship with Sean. I
should have toughed it out. When I looked up into her eyes again,
they had softened.

"Is he bad for you?" she asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my
head.

"He wasn't always like he is now. He used to be sweet
and loving. But things changed after we started dating and after he
graduated from high school. He changed," I began, not sure how much
I really wanted to tell them. They remained silent while I gathered
up the courage to talk about Sean Miller.

"I've known Sean since I was little. He’s my father’s
best friend’s son, so we spent a lot of time together. It was
simply the next step when we started to date. He and I had a lot in
common. His mother had left them shortly before my own mother died
in a traffic accident. It wasn’t until later that Sean became
abusive,” I said, letting my eyes drop to my fidgeting fingers
before me.

"I am sorry for the loss of your mother. That must be
difficult for you, to be without her. To have someone to go to when
you found he was hurtful," Fannie replied softly.

I figured the story of my mother could wait. It was
difficult enough to discuss Sean and his ways. The fact that my
mother was distant and the opposite of what Fannie was as a mother
was a discussion for another time.

"I was never really close to my mother. My sister and
I took care of each other. When she left for school, I had to stand
on my own.”

“You have a sister?” Emma asked. I nodded.

“Where is she?” Fannie asked me and sat down beside
me at the table.

“She’s in Illinois. That’s where I was going when the
bus broke down,” I explained. “And then I saw Sean in town, and got
a message from Stacy that he knew where I was.”

It was quiet for a moment as they thought on what I
had said.

“Why would your father approve of someone who hurt
you?” Emma asked softly.

“My dad liked Sean as the son he never had. He was
captain of the football team and had a future ahead of him in
college football. But then he blew out his knee the summer after he
graduated and that was the end of his career. He lost his
scholarship. That had been his way of getting out of town. Even
when the community rallied and got him a scholarship to the local
university, he resented it. He was stuck there. He hated that, and
it changed him. I was just an easy place to project his anger," I
said, shaking my head at memories of trying to explain the bruises
away at first to hide the shame, then trying to tell my father the
broken arm wasn't a bike accident.

Of course he believed Sean. I had made such a good
show of it being accidents. How could I say it was Sean?

"Katherine, no," Emma said, her voice breathy as she
stepped up to me. "No man should raise a hand to a woman. It is
forbidden in His eyes.”

"Do you not have laws? Could you not go to your
lawmen and seek help?" Fannie asked, aghast.

I laughed bitterly and shook my head at their
innocence.

"Sean's dad is the law. He’s a deputy sheriff and my
dad is well placed on the city council. Sean was the golden child
to the community. It would only make them look bad, or it would
make me look like a liar. I tried to tell my dad once, he didn't
understand. It was easier to ignore it instead," I explained and
turned to clean up our table, hoping to end the conversation.

Instead, I felt Fannie's arms around me, followed by
Emma's as they held me close.

Their emotion took me by surprise, after so long
admitting that the life I led was how it would be, I fell into a
world so foreign and yet completely as life should be. It was
difficult not to let out the tears I had refused to shed over Sean
and my misunderstood circumstances. Instead I let them hold me
until I softly cleared my throat.

"We'll burn the pies," I mumbled and slid from their
grasp to check on the apple pies.

They seemed to sense my need to drop the subject and
helped pull out the pies, leaving them to cool on racks on the
table. I watched the sun brighten the window, turn to midday, and
still no appearance of the man over the hill. We worked in the
garden in the early afternoon, the heat bearing down on us as we
pulled weeds from the flourishing tomatoes and green beans. By the
time supper was being set on the table, I had decidedly resigned
that Nathan wouldn’t be showing up again.

“He was here earlier,” Jonah replied when Fannie said
something about his absence.

“Why did he not come to supper then? I do not
understand his behavior of late,” she said, clearly frustrated at
her nephew.

“It has only been the last few days,” Hannah mumbled
and glanced at me.

Fannie heard the comment and shook her head.

“He would not choose to miss meals simply because we
have a guest,” she said.

Abigail, who had been silent most of dinner piped
up.

“It is not Katherine,” she said and smiled at me. “He
could not stop watching you when he came to speak with Poppa. Poppa
had to repeat himself twice for Nathan to understand him.”

I glanced over at Jonah and noticed he had slowed his
chewing to regard me. He swallowed and looked back down at his
plate, an amused smile on his lips.

“We will see him tomorrow at the Frolic, and I will
not allow him to be rude to our guest,” Fannie said, offering me an
apologetic smile.

I didn’t know what to say to everything that had
transpired at dinner. I was still surprised to hear that he had
watched me while I had worked. Once upstairs in our room, Abigail
pulled me with her towards the small bed and made me sit beside her
while she watched me with her innocent eyes.

“Do not be upset with Nathan,” she said simply.

“I’m not upset with him,” I said hesitantly.

I was to some degree. He confused me, and he had no
business doing so.

“He is just lonely and looking for a friend. Maybe
you can be his friend,” she said and pouted when Emma snorted from
her bed.

“I don’t think he wants to be my friend, Abigail,” I
explained gently. “I’m an outsider.”

“But I am your friend,” she said, confused. “He
should not think of you so.”

Emma stood, chuckling at her little sister as she
tucked her into bed.

“I am sure Nathan thinks Katherine is nice, Abigail.
But he is conflicted,” she explained.

Abigail slid into her bed, a frown on her usually
merry face.

“He should be nice to Katherine,” she muttered. “Talk
to him tomorrow, Katherine. He will see what we see.”

I hung up my dress and slid into bed with Emma.

“And what do you see?” I asked.

Abigail closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into her
blanket.

“You are our new sister. He should be nice to
family.”

I remained quiet and closed my eyes at her words.

It was nice to hear that she thought of me as family,
but it just made it more difficult to explain that I would be
leaving, in part because I didn’t want to leave now.

I fell asleep to the same conflicting thoughts I
seemed to have every night since arriving to this place. The peace
and simplicity was soothing, but the haunting specter of the man on
the other side of the hill perplexed and frustrated me.

Perhaps the next day would offer some answers.

Perhaps Abigail was right.

Perhaps he just needed a friend.