Healing Faith (5 page)

“The flu?”

She nodded and knocked again, a faraway look in her
eyes.

“It was a hard winter. One of the most brutal winter
storms I can remember. It was days before we could get help. God
works in his own ways, but it still does not make our loss less
painful.”

“Nathan never smiles now,” Abigail whispered.

I stood there absorbing what they had said.

Nathan was alone.

His family had been taken from him less than a year
ago.

The tension in my stomach pulled, and I frowned at
the strange overwhelming need to do something for Nathan. I had no
idea what; I didn't know him. After last night I was sure he wanted
nothing to do with me. The pinching of his brow when he looked back
at me as he left made that clear.

Fannie turned away from the door and nodded towards
the barn.

"He must have begun his day. Come let us check the
field. Perhaps he is there," Fannie said and stepped off the porch
towards the sprawling barn to the side of the house. There was
enough room in the barn for an entire herd, but again there was
only the quiet. The Fisher farm seemed utterly desolate the more I
observed it.

As we turned the corner of the barn, I caught sight
of him in the field, behind a piece of machinery that dug into the
earth as it was pulled by a large black horse. I blinked several
times at the sight before me. Nathan worked behind the till, his
arms tensed and straining as he gripped the handles to hold the
blade in the earth as it cut through. His forearms were well
defined, and shining with sweat already in the early morning. His
shirt clung to him as he walked; open around his neck to reveal a
light smattering of chest hair. He wore his hat back on his head a
bit, and his hair looked damp as it plastered to the side of his
brow that was tightly knit in concentration until he caught sight
of us by the side of the barn.

He pulled his horse up short when he saw us. Wiping
his mouth across the back of his arm, he moved to unhitch the
horse, his face unreadable as he glanced our way again. I watched
him as he worked, his nimble fingers tugged at the leather straps
around the harness with practiced ease. He made quick work of the
harness, drawing the great monstrous horse with him as he made his
way towards us.

The horse shook his head and snorted, clearly upset
at having his job stalled. I kept still behind Fannie, timid of
both beast and owner as they came to a halt in front of us. Nathan
took off his hat and clutched it to his chest, glancing at me
briefly before looking down at the ground by my feet.

"Fannie, Abigail. A good morning to you," he
murmured, his eyes flickering towards me again. "A good morning to
you, Kate."

I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks at the
sound of his voice saying my name. It was soft spoken, trembling in
his chest. He wasn’t loud or brash like Sean. Instead his voice
seemed to vibrate through me, the flutter in my stomach growing
because of it. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but found my
nerves had closed it up. Abigail saved me from my awkward
silence.

"You know Katherine?" she asked, looking from him to
me curiously. Fannie tilted her head to glance at me askance, a
slight smirk on her lips when she noticed my blush darkening.

"Yes, yesterday before supper," he replied, still
avoiding my eyes. "I nearly knocked her down as she came down your
stairs. I am afraid I may have startled her."

Fannie was quiet as she glanced between the two of us
before nodding and letting out a soft laugh.

"That should not have deterred you from staying for
supper last night, Nathan. You are family. Your company was well
missed last night," she replied and he dipped his head down again
at her words, his ears turning bright red.

"I was just from the field. I would have made poor
company. I had supper here. Thank you for thinking of me," he
replied and looked up finally into her eyes.

Fannie tutted and motioned to the house.

"Will you not sit with us a moment? We brought you
food to break the fast. You must be hungry? Come, put the horse to
pasture and rinse the field off. Break fast with us," she said, not
offering him a chance to refuse before she was turning and walking
back to the house.

He let out a small noise that sounded suspiciously
like an exasperated sigh before he frowned and put his hat back on,
fidgeting with the horse’s bridle before he turned to the beast and
mumbled a quiet command, letting him go. The horse snuffed against
his chest, glancing at me for a second before flicking his head and
turning towards the meager grass growing near the shady side of the
barn.

Nathan hesitated in following Fannie and Abigail,
gesturing with his long arm towards the house, wanting me to lead.
I blinked out of my trance and willed my legs to move, mindful of
the man beside me. His soft voice filled the air once more.

"I must apologize once more for yesterday, Kate. I
did not mean to frighten you," he said, my name sending another tug
into my gut.

"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. I
should have been paying attention," I started to explain, only to
have my feet tangle in my long skirt yet again.

I let out an exclamation; words I was sure the Amish
didn't use and braced myself for a frontal impact into the dirt,
seemingly in slow motion as I extended my arm holding the pitcher
of milk to keep it from spilling. I clenched my eyes tight, but the
ground never came. Instead, a different hardness caught me.

I felt hands around me once more, and the hot sturdy
frame of the man beside me as he pulled me up and into him, jogging
me a little hard. My body recoiled on instinct, so that the
contents of the pitcher splashed up and drenched Nathan across the
chest when I made to push away.

"I'm so sorry!" I wailed, mortified beyond measure
that I had stumbled, and then worse, spilled the milk all over him
when I reacted.

His eyes pulled together, lips pursed as he pulled
away from me carefully. He flapped his shirt a bit to separate the
wet fabric from his skin while I stood there clutching the near
empty pitcher thoroughly embarrassed. He let out a soft breath of
exasperation and shook his head, avoiding my eyes.

"It was not your fault, Kate. I should have assisted
you across the wheel ruts. Just as well, this shirt needed
laundering. I just have not had a moment to do so," he muttered and
stepped away towards the water pump to rinse off, effectively
leaving me to stand dumbly in the middle of his yard.

My humiliation only continued when I felt Fannie
pulling me up the steps, a low chuckle escaping her lips. She had
seen. She would know how out of sorts I was around her nephew.

"God did not grant you grace, Katherine. Busy
yourself with Nathan's food and set it up on the table while I go
fetch him another shirt. Abigail has gone to fetch a plate and
glass for Nathan. It will be all right, child," she soothed,
guiding me to the small table on the porch. I nodded and watched as
she disappeared inside the house in search of clean clothes.

I had managed to ruin my second interaction with
Nathan.

Why did he unnerve me so?

As if to answer, I looked off towards the water pump,
only to feel my breath stutter once again. Standing there, hat
tossed on the ground and his shirt open nearly to his navel, stood
Nathan, glistening wet in the sunlight. He leaned over and worked
the pump forcefully until the water sprang forth into the basin
before him.

When it was nearly full, he stood taller and glanced
around. I turned my head quickly, busying myself by pulling out the
cakes I had made to keep my eyes distracted. But my periphery
vision was excellent and soon my eyes were turning to watch him
again.

He turned from me a bit, so that I could only see his
profile. He slipped his suspenders from his shoulders and shrugged
his shirt off, hanging it on the handle of the pump while he bent
over to splash water over his face. The water bounced against him,
soaking his hair around his temple until fat droplets fell back
into the water basin. He splashed across his chest, slipping his
hands up and under his arms to rinse off. His body shimmered in the
bright sunlight, water pooling off of him as he splashed and
scrubbed, the mud and dirt that had caked on him slipping away from
his body to leave him much cleaner than I had yet seen him. His
chest was pale, seeing little of the sun he worked in, but his arms
and neck were tanned from his time in the field.

He dipped his head into the water, drawing it up in
an arch of water that splayed out in a rainbow before him as he
raised his head upwards and shook out the excess. Toned back
muscles rippled as he tugged his fingers through his hair and
across his face. Reaching for his soiled shirt he found the small
remaining dry spot on it and rubbed his face dry, moving down to
soak up the escaping water rivulets across his broad chest and down
to his abdomen where a soft trail of dark hair disappeared into his
unbelted trousers.

I heard footsteps behind me just as Nathan's head
lifted and his eyes captured mine. I was frozen at being caught
ogling the beautiful Amish man by my host, and by the man himself.
I could see the turbulent green of his eyes from across the yard,
could see the uncertainty flicker across them before those delicate
brows pulled together and he turned away from me, his lips a thin
tight line.

I looked away just as the door opened and Fannie
walked past me down the stairs towards Nathan. I kept my eyes
averted as she offered him a clean shirt, his soft thank you
carrying in the air. My throat was dry and burned as I worked to
control the uncontrollable fluttering in my middle. My face felt
hot and my heart wouldn't stop its thunderous beating, even while I
distracted myself by setting the table full of food. I held my
breath when I heard his boots climb the steps, followed by
Fannie.

Abigail came out of the house seconds later, and
seemed to remain oblivious to the tension between Nathan and I as
she set his dishes down on the table, smiling up at him in the
hopes to make him do the same.

He was quiet as he settled into his chair, Fannie and
Abigail sitting down beside him. I was forced to sit across from
him, where he steadfastly refused to look. His lips were still set
in a thin line, opening long enough to take a bite before closing
once more to chew silently. I sat ramrod straight before him,
trying hard not to watch him eat, looking at anything but his
face.

My eyes wandered to his long fingers as they
carefully tore apart my corn cakes.

His shoulders as he hunched over his plate.

His sharp, angular jaw as he chewed, just starting to
show signs of whiskers this early in the morning as if he hadn’t
shaved yet.

His hair had begun to dry; haphazard now in how it
sat against his head. My eyes traveled back up to his red lips as
he took a drink of the last of the milk, leaving a white line
across his lips until he brought his hand to them.

In no time at all, he was standing quickly, turning
to Fannie.

"Thank you for this delicious meal. It is more than
you should have to do, and I am grateful. I need to return to my
work before the sun is much higher. I would like to be off of the
field before mid-day," he murmured softly and moved to leave.

"Let us stay and tend to your house, Nathan. You
should not have to tend to both," Fannie started, only to have
Nathan shake his head and lift his hand abruptly.

I flinched on instinct at the movement.

My reaction didn't go unnoticed by either, but they
said nothing.

Nathan continued.

"I could not impose on Elder Jonah. You have your
home. Thank you again for the meal. Pleasant day, Fannie. Abigail,"
he said, pausing before he glanced at me with tight eyes.

“Katherine."

My name sounded wrong when he said it. His eyes took
me in for just a moment, hesitating before he stepped off the porch
and disappeared behind the barn. I didn't follow his progress
around the barn because Abigail was watching me with those bright
blue eyes that seemed to see everything. She glanced back at Nathan
before dashing off towards the failing garden beside the house, the
strange farewell quickly forgotten to her.

I busied myself with helping Fannie clean up until we
were ready to depart. I turned to leave, anxious to get far away
from Nathan Fisher, but Fannie stalled me with her hand at the top
of the stairs. She glanced in the field, searching for signs of him
before turning to me with determined eyes.

"He may not want to impose, but he is my sister's son
and therefore my own son as she is gone. Come, we must to tend to
his house while he is in the field," she whispered.

"But… but he said no," I stammered, uncomfortable
with standing outside his house let alone stepping inside.

"Katherine," Fannie replied, her eyes holding mine
hard. "He cannot have the experience to know what he needs. He has
not yet taken his Rumspringa. As much as he believes himself to be
a man, he is just a boy. He will have his house tended to," she
said and pulled me towards the door.

I glanced back towards the field, Nathan still unseen
as we entered the house. I looked around nervously, so much closer
to a private side of this Amish man than I had ever thought
possible. I was immediately taken in by the simplicity of Nathan's
home.

Rooms sat quiet and still, with white cloth sheets
over most of the furniture save a chair here, a small table there.
It looked like our lake house when I was young, sheets covering
furniture to repel the dust while it sat vacant. But this house was
occupied, if by only one soul. My heart stuttered at the loneliness
the house seemed to exude. Fannie stood silently for a moment, not
in sad reflection as I did, but in thought about where to start
first. I was still taking in the lonely chair and desk in the
sitting room when she started to give her orders.