Healing Faith (6 page)

"Clothes, linens, anything that looks like it needs
tending to that we can carry home, gather up and bring here," she
said.

I gaped at her in surprise.

"Linens? I can't go into his bedroom! I don't even
know which one!" I replied frightened, my stomach flailing at the
thought of pulling sheets that his bare chest had laid upon.

Fannie nodded, pushing his dishes into my hands and
pointed towards the kitchen.

"To the kitchen then. He has neglected that for far
too long I am sure. And when you are done there, a rag to wipe up
the dust in the sitting room. Go! We do not have the luxury of
time!" she ordered and turned and swiftly disappeared up the
stairs.

I all but flew at her command towards the back of the
house, finding the kitchen easily. Nathan's home and the Berger's
had a similar lay out, so I felt more comfortable than I thought I
would have given that I was invading a stranger’s home, even if
just to clean it.

It was still a stranger's home.

A stranger who made my heart hammer as he washed in
front of a water pump.

I shook my head and concentrated on the kitchen
before me.

By my father’s standards, it was spic and span. In my
world or theirs it always seemed that a man could put up with
disarray. But by my standards and apparently Fannie's, it was a
mess. Breakfast or dinner plates were on the table, a used cast
iron skillet left on the stove. Remnants of a loaf of bread had
already attracted the ants, and they were devouring the bit of jam
dropped on the edge of the table.

I rushed about, setting a pot to boil, as Fannie did
when she needed hot water for washing the dishes, and wiped down
anything I could as I waited for the water to heat up. By the time
the water was steaming, I had swept the kitchen and main entryway,
wiped down the table in the kitchen, and had made a small pile of
dishtowels for the laundry.

I was amazed at how much information about their way
of life I had retained in just an hour in Fannie's kitchen this
morning, but soon I had the kitchen clean and I was making my way
through the rest of the ground floor with a broom and a wet rag.
When I made it to the sitting room I had every intention of keeping
to the task and not letting curiosity win over.

That was my intention until my eyes flashed on a bit
of paper lying on his small writing table. There was a pile of
papers and journals lying on the table, strewn across it
haphazardly. My fingers moved to straighten the pile up, in an
effort to dust, until words leapt out from the top paper.

I forgot to breathe as I read the words on the page,
written in neat script.

The colour of fresh turned earth

Gold spun wheat at harvest in the gentle breeze

The pureness of fresh drawn milk

The gentle bend of the elm tree

The melody of breaking day

The tranquility of a cloudless night

The moon as it dances across the starlit sky

The sun's kiss on the horizon at dusk

The depth of the universe.

These are but trials to what I see

In her perfection

The Lord must surely have dreamt as I didst

A haunting image in slumber of beauty beyond all
nature

Kate.

I touched the note softly with my fingertips, reading
the words once more to be sure I had read them properly. Nathan
Fisher, the strange and beautiful Amish man to whom I had just met,
had composed a poem.

About me.

Apparently I was not the only one haunted by dreams
of a stranger.

We made our way back to the Berger house before
midday, a large bundle of clothing held between us as we walked. To
have Nathan Fisher's clothes in my hands should have been exciting,
if I didn't also know that these were the clothes he had sweat in,
been spilled on, had slept in. And thoughts of plunging his soiled
shirt into the water and scrubbing what remained of Nathan in his
clothes made my face rage as my thoughts drifted to images of him
bare-chested in front of the water pump trying to get clean.

"Are you all right, Katherine?" Fannie asked as we
neared the house. "You are quite flushed."

I swallowed to wet my dry mouth and tried to
smile.

"Just hot. I'm not used to wearing so many clothes,"
I said, only to feel my blush deepen.

It sounded like I walked around naked in my
world.

“That is why I do not wear shoes!” Abigail exclaimed.
“The earth is cool on my feet.”

I laughed and looked down at my sneakers. They hadn’t
given me shoes to wear under the dress.

“I don’t think I could handle the rocks and dirt,” I
confessed.

Fannie laughed and guided me towards the back porch
of the house, resting the mound of Nathan's clothes on the floor
before turning to me.

"Our worlds are quite different I am sure. I forget
you have modern conveniences to help you along. Although I might
enjoy the air conditioning you have. That is something I wish
sometimes," she said, her smile growing when she saw my own
blossom.

"I do miss cool air," I replied and followed her into
the house, which was much cooler than outside. I let out a relieved
breath at the temperature difference.

"We will make midday meal before we tend to Nathan's
clothes. He does not have much; it should be quick. I do not know
what the boy has been doing for himself all this time. The shirt
surely never gets fully clean if he is doing it," she replied and
pulled out meats and cheese from a hidden cabinet near the back of
the kitchen that I soon realized was a refrigerator.

“It is powered by propane,” she explained when she
noticed my confused look. “We Amish have made some improvements to
some of your devices, if only to make things easier.”

“Why not just use electricity?” I asked, truly
curious. It seemed like cheating.

She smiled and nodded as if reading my mind.

“Electricity ties us to the world beyond,” she
explained. “It shows a certain dependence on the outside world. But
with propane, we are self-sufficient. It is strange I know. One day
we might even think of solar power. But it is important not to
tempt us with too many conveniences. You will never see a true
Amish person with any of the diversions in your world that would
only make our life more complicated. We have enough to do to keep
us busy.”

I nodded as if I understood what she was saying. It
still seemed like cheating to me if they had refrigerators and
mixers that were simply adapted to do the work. What I really
wished they had was good running hot water and a shower. I felt
sweaty and dirty from my morning trek and it seemed like forever
ago I had stood in a hot shower to scrub away the dirt.

We worked quietly for a while before I heard
footsteps coming down the hall. Half expecting Nathan to burst in
to yell at us for cleaning his house, I was relieved to see Emma
and Hannah as they stepped in with a basket of vegetables from the
garden. Emma offered me a bright smile and began to set the
table.

Bread sliced and vegetables cut, Fannie and I plated
up sandwiches for everyone. I watched as she took two she had made
and wrapped it carefully in a cloth. She smiled at my observation
and nodded towards the window. I glanced out and watched as Jonah
passed by the window in a large farm contraption behind his horse.
Behind him walked a large man in a light blue shirt and straw hat.
His dark curly hair peeked out from his hat.

Fannie excused herself to bring the food to the men
outside, leaving me with the three sisters. I was comfortable with
Emma, and even Abigail. But Hannah watched me as I ate, her eyes
calculating and unreadable. Emma on the other hand was full of
energy and talked animatedly through lunch.

"The sow finally gave birth. I always love seeing the
little piglets before they grow up and become surly. One suckled my
finger this morning thinking I was its mother," she said
brightly.

"Could be the disgusting color you are wearing
today," Hannah muttered around her sandwich.

Emma tutted and smoothed out her dress, admiring the
soft muted pink. It wasn't so much pink as it was almost peach
colored. And it brought out the color in her pale cheeks. I liked
it, although I would never wear it. I preferred the darker dress I
had on, an almost forest green in color. It reminded me of home, of
the redwoods in California. You wouldn’t find trees like that in
Iowa. Plenty of sun in Iowa; the shade seemed hard to come by. And
although I was from California, where I grew up had fewer sunny
days than one might expect. It remained cool for most of the year
and sunny only in the mid summer when the fog didn’t obscure
it.

But the trees were something to behold.

And the ocean.

And the cool breeze.

I missed home.

I frowned into my sandwich at the revelation.

I missed it to some degree.

I wondered if my father was worried.

Did he have people searching for me, or was he glad
to be rid of me? He had trouble coming to terms with being a father
too. He ignored me half the time and yelled at me for not doing
something other times. It may have even taken him a few days to
realize I was gone.

I had left a note. Perhaps he had bloodhounds out on
the search. Which reminded me of Sean again.

How had he known where to find me?

Only my dad would have been able to track my
bankcard, which was why I had refused to use it after buying the
bus ticket to Illinois.

So if my dad had traced my card, he would have been
the one to tell Sean.

He had sent my nightmare to me, to come and fetch
me.

"You are frowning, Katherine,” Abigail said, pulling
me out of my thoughts. “Do you not feel well?”

I put my sandwich down, nodding and trying to look
unaffected.

"I'm fine. Just the heat I think. I'm all right," I
said softly, watching as the sisters eyed me carefully for a moment
before there was a booming voice in the hall.

I jumped in surprise.

"It is no trouble, Fannie! I will look at your
machine and get it running in no time!"

In through the hall came the giant man from outside,
his face clean-shaven and a wide smile on it as he approached our
table.

"Ladies," he said, grinning at Hannah for a moment
longer the rest of us before his attention zeroed in on me.

There was a playful mirth in the big man's eyes, the
blue of them brilliant next to his bronzed skin. He was young I
knew, older than I was but it was hard to tell with the men in this
community. The sun and work seemed to make them more mature than
any of the college guys Sean hung around with. He was certainly
friendlier than most of the Amish I had met so far.

He removed his hat and offered me a merry smile.

"You must be Katherine. Jonah has mentioned you much
this morning. Welcome," he said and extended his hand out towards
me.

I hesitated in taking it, sure that it was not Amish
custom to shake hands based on my previous night’s attempt with
Nathan. But apparently this man didn't abide by the usual stoic
rules, judging by his broad grin and twinkling eyes. I took his
hand tentatively, feeling the strength and roughness of his hand as
it all but swallowed mine up.

"Yes, I am Katherine. It’s nice to meet you," I said,
leaving my sentence lingering since I really didn't know whom this
hulk of a man was who was grinning down at me. I suddenly hoped
Jonah had not just betrothed me to this man. Surely that was not
how they worked.

"This is Mark," Hannah explained, watching me like a
lioness watches her pride.

I slipped my hand from his and looked away from his
amused gaze.

"Yes I am. Mark Bowman. And soon to be happily wed to
my dearest Hannah," he said, smiling adoringly at Hannah.

I didn't know how to act. In many ways Hannah and
Mark did not fit the image I had constructed of a good Amish
couple. If anything they reminded me of the popular kids back at
home. But Mark's smile changed the instant he heard heavy footsteps
coming down the hall and he straightened his stance before us. Like
a sudden transformation, his manner was more polite as Jonah and
Fannie walked back in.

Fannie took in the scene and raised her eyebrow at
Hannah, who feigned indifference, but I was sure my uncomfortable
smile gave them away. Jonah clapped Mark on the back briskly and
brushed past him to step out on the back kitchen porch.

"Mark, son! Come help me with this machine. Show me
how to keep this contraption working!" he called as he walked
out.

Mark offered us a glimmer of his mischievous grin
before he followed Jonah out, the sound of metal and grunting soon
following. I glanced back at the noise in confusion until Fannie
explained.

"It is our clothes washer. It stopped working a week
ago. Mark seems to have a gift for anything mechanical. Let us hope
he can fix it fast or we will be elbow deep in Nathan's
underclothes!" she said and turned to wash the remaining
dishes.

She didn't see the color drain from my face at the
mention of my elbows in Nathan's anything, but Emma and Hannah did.
Emma's eyes grew wide for a moment before her smile overtook her,
but Hannah simply raised her eyebrow and slipped out of the room
silently. I watched her leave with a feeling of trepidation in my
bones.

I had no feelings for Nathan Fisher, regardless of
how my stomach knotted at the mere thought of him. Regardless of
the fluttering I felt over the poem I had found, or the
mortification I felt at upsetting him, I’d be gone in a few days,
searching for a place to live without the threat of Sean
overshadowing me.

I didn't belong here.

"Come girls!" Fannie admonished. "Until they have
that machine fixed, I am afraid it is the old fashioned way!"