Healing Faith (20 page)

I closed my eyes, smiling at the fact that perhaps I
had something to offer this family for once. I'd see my friend back
with her true love. And I'd make Nathan smile again tomorrow.

Because his smile meant a good deal more to me
now.

My head hurt when I woke up before the dawn. It
throbbed like I had cracked it wide open. My body felt like a train
had struck it. My wrists hurt when I moved them. But I sucked it up
and got out of bed.

I was not going to let Sean win. I wanted to show
everyone I was strong, even if my dreams had made me whimper in the
night. Dreams of Sean chasing after me, and tossing Nathan into the
dumpster so that it was Nathan on the alley ground and not Sean. If
Emma or Abigail had heard, they remained quiet about it when I
awoke. Emma and I started our chores with little encouragement from
Jonah.

I was getting into the routine. I was learning. I
even milked half dozen cows as opposed to leaving Emma to pick up
the slack. Abigail met us outside the barn just as the sun was
cracking over the horizon, her basket full of eggs from the hen
house. She smiled at me and motioned towards the hill.

Nathan's hill.

And there as the first rays of sunlight licked at the
hillside, I watched as Nathan made his way towards us, his
signature black hat tipped back on his head and a smile on his
face. He walked a little more slowly, and as he drew closer I
noticed the cut along his cheek had purpled over night. But his
eyes shone in the early morning light as he took one of the milk
pails from my hand and followed us into the kitchen silently.

We made quick work of breakfast, Fannie having
prepared the ham and corn cakes while Emma and I had been in the
barn. We settled into our usual seats, Nathan sitting across from
me. Morning prayers said, I tried my best to avoid his eyes while
we ate, but it seemed every time I looked his way, he was looking
my way at the same moment.

We had to be incredibly obvious to everyone else.

As if to confirm my suspicion, Jonah cleared his
throat and stood from the table to address the family.

"Today is a day of reflection. We have chores to do
so that we may relax this afternoon and thank God for what we have.
Nathan? I believe we have a meeting of the Elders before midday?
Let us go while Fannie and the girls take care of things here. My
wife," he said, smiling at his wife briefly before glancing around
the table. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, a thoughtful purse
to his lips before he stepped outside to wait for Nathan. Nathan
excused himself hurriedly, offering me a timid smile before
grabbing his hat and following Jonah outside, leaving me to glance
around the table at the women.

"It is all right, Katherine," Fannie said. "They will
speak with the Elders and we will have resolution on how best to
keep you safe."

I remained quiet throughout our clean up routine. I
had a feeling Nathan and Jonah were walking into a heated
discussion over me. I could still be asked to leave, and then any
feelings I had for Nathan would be pointless. Fannie seemed unfazed
by the men going to speak to the Elders, but Hannah watched me
curiously as we worked. I felt an instant of fear when she asked me
to join her in the sewing room.

Emma raised her eyebrow but dutifully followed Fannie
out to the garden to gather vegetables for the afternoon meal while
I made my way behind Hannah to the front room of the house. Hannah
opened the windows to let in a breeze and settled in on the bench
seat by the window, motioning me to share it with her as she pulled
out one of the dresses I had first worn. She was quiet as she
sorted through her needles and spools of thread, finding finally
the same color as the dress and turning to smile carefully.
Regardless of Hannah's sudden warming to me, seeing her smile still
frightened me. She was like a tiger ready to pounce as she sat
there, poised perfectly with her hand working the thread through
the fabric neatly.

"I found great joy making these dresses when I came
of age," she said after several moments of silence. "It is good
that they can be used. Emma will never grow into them and Abigail
has years to go yet."

I watched her as she worked, unsure of what to say.
Another few minutes of silence and then she spoke again.

"Of course I had high hopes that I would pass these
to my sisters. I suppose the sickness is what made Emma so small.
She was frail for so long. And a bit dramatic if I must admit. She
has a good loving man in John Wittmer. I can only hope she has not
passed it by," she murmured as she handed me the needle and thread
and the half hemmed skirt.

"I don't know what to do," I stammered, feeling odd
with the dress in my hands.

"Follow my stitching there. I have pinned it for you.
Just follow the line. You will get better with practice. It is how
we all learn, by doing. Abigail is already quite good at needlework
and she is only ten," she replied and pulled out another dress from
the pile beside her.

We sat in uncomfortable silence as I stitched,
following her straight line with one of my own that wavered
slightly. My wrists began to ache as I worked, my stitching slower
until I finally had to stop and rotate my hands to relieve the
ache. She paused in her sewing to glance down at the purpled skin
around my wrists.

"Are you in pain?" she whispered, her face
unreadable.

I shook my head dismissively.

"Not really, I'm just not used to this. You are much
better at this than me," I replied, trying to offer a compliment in
her awkward company.

She nodded as if to agree and went back to sewing,
glancing at my hands when they resumed the stitching.

"The bruises will fade. Father says you were not
broken. That is good. Broken bones and scars remind you of the
nightmare," she murmured.

I touched my forehead gently.

"I don't think this will scar. Do you think it will
scar?" I asked nervously.

I had scars from Sean. No one had seen them, but
Hannah was right. They made me remember. She eyed my forehead
thoughtfully and shook her head.

"No, Mother was sure to use the same balm she used on
me. You will not scar.”

She went back to her stitching.

I paused my stitching to watch her as her words sunk
in.

The same balm she used on me.

I watched as Hannah's stitches wavered, as she pulled
them out purposefully and re-stitched.

A slightly crooked line.

A breath.

Pulling the threads out.

The silence became rather loud in the still room.

Another breath.

She tried again.

"It was not Mark's fault, you understand," she said
suddenly, her voice strangely distant.

I remained still beside her as she worked, afraid to
break her from this uncomfortable discussion. Afraid she would
harden and be unwilling to let me in once more. She let out another
breath and straightened a bit, shaking her head as she pulled out
the threads once more on her dress.

"There are many things that happen during Rumspringa.
We do not discuss it for we are wiped clear of those sins when we
accept our place here. I was stupid to step away from Mark that
night. I am so very blessed that he found me. Regardless of what he
thinks, I do not blame him for it," she continued.

I swallowed and remained frozen beside her, praying
now that she would simply return to her stitching and leave her
story untold. Why was she telling me? I didn't want to know. I
didn't want to learn of her scars.

"The English boy was a friend of Mark's. They worked
at the mill together. I knew him; he had always been nice to me. I
did not think anything of it when he told me Mark had a surprise
there for me. It was my birthday after all, and Mark was always
offering me little gifts as tokens of his love for me. I thought
maybe he had finished the rocker he had promised me as a betrothal
gift. But it was not. He was not there as his friend had said," she
whispered.

I felt my heart hammering in my chest as I watched
her. Hannah was as stoic and reserved as I imagined all the strong
Amish women were. But I could see her trembling hands as she
stitched and spoke. She struggled like anyone would. She struggled
like I had so many times when I had tried to hide my injuries. Had
tried to be strong. Hannah was still a woman who hurt.

She took a long measured breath and clasped her hands
together to still them, looking down at the un-hemmed dress.

"Mark found me, that is what matters. If he had not,
I would not be able to show you how to stitch, and I would not have
met you. I was forgiven of my past the day I took my baptism.
Bruises heal. Scars leave memories. I am sad for my scars. My
husband will have to remember every time‚ every time," she
stammered.

"Hannah," I whispered, feeling helpless to offer any
comfort.

"I will be a good wife, regardless," she whispered
and straightened and looked up at me, her eyes determined.

I could only nod, fighting back the tears in my eyes.
She would be upset if I cried for her. I didn't know Hannah well,
but I knew she didn’t want pity. I knew I would not in her place.
It seemed Hannah and I had much more in common that I would have
ever realized. She was determined, just as I hoped to be. I hoped I
could be a little like her, with her strength of will.

Her faith.

Her faith had healed her suffering.

She nodded and turned back to her stitching, much
straighter the fourth time around.

I returned to my own stitching, unsure of what to say
to Hannah, fearful that I would mess up the strange truce we had.
Instead, she spoke again after I had completed my attempt at
hemming my dress. She looked it over, laughter escaping her throat
as she picked at my loose threads.

"It is a good thing you are good in the kitchen,
Katherine! With time you might be able to stitch something that
will hold for a season. Let us hope I can learn to bake easier than
you can sew! Otherwise Mark will starve!" she said brightly and
rose to stretch.

Just like that.

Hannah was strong again, feisty and sure of herself.
Hannah did not bring up her story again, and I did not ask. And she
did not ask me about my bruises again. They did not discuss these
things.

That was the Amish way.

I followed behind her as we made our way into the
kitchen, back into the routine of preparing the midday and late
meals for the day. I stood a little taller, shoved the pain of my
injuries further back into my head while I worked.

Because Hannah was the strongest woman I knew. I had
so much to learn from these people if I expected to remain, if
they'd let me. I glanced at the door, wondering what Nathan would
say to the Elders on my behalf. And what he would tell me when he
returned midday. I might not have a choice in staying.

So I hid my pain and took a page out of Hannah's
book.

I'd hide my scars.

I'd be strong.

I’d have faith.

I’d learn.

"Katherine, come away from the door! They will be
home soon. Do not worry," Fannie chided, causing me to blush and
pull away from the door once more.

"I was just checking to see if it was shady out by
the garden yet," I replied lamely.

"It is midday, Katherine," Hannah sighed,
exasperated. "There is no shade."

Emma chuckled by the table, glancing my way as Hannah
burst into laughter.

I sighed and busied myself with stirring the potato
salad we had made earlier. It didn't really need stirring, but I
needed a distraction. Jonah and Nathan had been gone for a few
hours now.

And my morning chores were done, as Nathan had
asked.

A thrill went through me at the idea of being able to
sit and talk with him, finally.

The decision of the Elders weighed on my mind, but
the idea of him sitting next to me for the afternoon made
everything pale in comparison.

"They will be thirsty when they arrive, Katherine.
Come help me finish the tea," Fannie said, taking pity on the
over-stirred potatoes.

Chores done, potato salad stirred, tea made and soon
we were all growing antsy for them to return. Abigail came charging
through the door when they finally crested the hill. Hannah let out
another exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. I was finding her
irritation endearing somehow now. I stepped into the flurry of
activity to get the midday meal out and ready.

I heard their footsteps and the murmurings of Jonah's
voice before the door opened and he stepped in, followed by Nathan.
Jonah smiled comfortably towards his wife, glancing my way before
turning towards the sink to wash up. Nathan stepped in quietly, his
eyes turned down towards his hat in his hands before he glanced up,
the green of his eyes shining through his lashes. I held my breath,
worried that his hesitation was confirmation that this could be my
last meal here.

And then he offered me that soft smile, creeping up
from one side that made his eyes crinkle a bit. I let out my breath
and smiled back, causing him to blush and fight the wider smile
that tugged at his lips. Jonah's bright voice brought us out of our
little moment.

"Katherine, my newest daughter! The Elders have
agreed to provide you refuge with us!" he exclaimed and moved
towards me to hold me between his hands.

He smiled softly and leaned in, kissing me softly on
the forehead.

"Welcome to our home, Katherine. You have nothing to
fear here," he whispered and squeezed me gently between the
shoulders.

I didn't have much time to offer my thanks. Emma, as
well as Abigail and Hannah, came running in to hug me. Following
soon after Fannie hugged me tightly and refused to let me go. From
the corner of my eye, Nathan was still smiling.