Healing Faith (7 page)

I cleaned the meal away quickly, Emma grabbing a pail
of something that looked like powdered laundry soap as we made our
way out to the porch where Nathan's clothes lay. Fannie had her
hair pulled up tight under her head covering, her hand on her hip
as she surveyed the workload.

"Emma, fetch the wash tub from the barn and bring it
here. Katherine and I will start hauling water. Abigail, you can
sort the laundry," she said, and we split up on a mission.

The heat of the day was at its worst, so Fannie found
the only shady spot near the clothesline to wash. Several trips
with buckets of water from a water pump and finally the large tub
was filled. Fannie brought over the first bundle of clothes, what
looked like a nicer pair of trousers and a light blue short-sleeved
shirt. Under that were the undergarments. She passed the bundle to
me and laughed when I looked at her, horrified.

"Please tell me you have hand washed clothes in your
world?" she asked, hands on her hips once more.

"Yes, I have but," I stammered hopelessly.

Plunging and scrubbing; I remembered that in some
movie. Simple.

"But?" she asked, that eyebrow rising once more.

I had not really intended on getting that close and
personal to Nathan's underclothes. I swallowed and shook my
head.

"Nothing, Fannie. I'm happy to do it," I said and
moved towards the basin as she talked me through how to properly
wash their linens.

"Take out his undershirt there, yes. It is thin, to
help breathe on hot days and wick the moisture away. But it is
delicate, so do not scrub too hard on the washboard. Otherwise we
will be adding mending to our chores and we have far too much to do
today as it is," she said and watched as I drew Nathan's
lightweight undershirt out from the pile.

I knelt by the washbasin, handling the material
delicately with my fingers. Already fine wear marks were evident
where Nathan must have scrubbed too hard to clean. The sleeveless
shirt was paper thin, light as a feather in my hands, and soft. I
realized, as I looked it over that he had not been wearing one in
the morning. Nor had Fannie brought him one to change into. I
glanced at the mound of clothes and realized that we must have
taken all of his clothes with us to wash.

How long did he go until he had to wash his own
clothes, living alone and fending for himself? I shook my head and
I plunged the garment into the water, taking the soap that Fannie
offered me. I was bound and determined to get Nathan's clothes
clean for him. I had made him uncomfortable; I had spilled on him,
making his life more difficult than it already was. If there was
something I could do to help out, I would. He only had himself to
depend on and that was not enough.

I scrubbed and rinsed out the soap, wringing it
carefully to get most of the water out before Fannie swapped with
me and gave me the next garment, what looked like linen shorts. I
blinked for a moment before understanding settled in and quickly
pushed the underpants into the water in a rush.

I may have scrubbed a little longer, terrified to
bring the pants up to the surface and have to look at them once
more. But Fannie was pushing me along, and I knew there were many
more in the pile. My random thoughts had to wonder if Nathan had
not been wearing an undershirt, had he run out of underpants as
well?

"Katherine, I admire your enthusiasm, but you will
wear yourself out with your scrubbing! You're flushed from working
so diligently!" Fannie said, smiling behind her hand when my blush
grew.

I handed her the next garment in a rush, deciding
that silence was a better friend to me than having to explain my
embarrassment. It was silly really. I never got embarrassed over my
father’s boxers, so why was I so unnerved by some random stranger’s
undergarments?

We worked like that for some time, Emma taking over
when I was huffing over the basin and ended up nearly as wet as
some of the clothes. Fannie had a large wicker basket that she had
been laying the freshly washed clothes into; she handed me
clothespins and set me on my way with Abigail to the clothesline,
working together to hang the wet garments. This I knew, since our
dryer at home was constantly on the fritz and no matter how many
times Sean had come to fix it, it never seemed to work.

I shuddered at the thought of Sean again and pinned
Nathan's trousers with a little more zeal. I was here because of
Sean, hiding like an outlaw, instead of comfortable at home. I
thought again about whether I had made the right choice, how long I
would stay, why I was even here when I could have simply asked
Jonah to drop me off down the road so that I could hitchhike to the
next big town and continue on my way to Illinois. I grew more
frustrated with each article of clothing, with each new thought
that made me question the very reason for hiding in this small
Amish community.

I was working on the last pair of trousers in the
basket when Mark stepped off the porch to speak with Fannie. He
glanced my way, at the vehement way I pinned and let out a soft
cough. It was a laugh, but he was good at disguising it.

"You seem to be quite focused on making sure the
clothes stay on the line, Katherine," he said with a hint of mirth
in his voice.

I shook my head and remained silent. I continued with
securing the clothes, putting the last of the undershirts on the
line before turning to see Fannie smiling behind me. I wondered if
she could possibly know why I was so flustered.

"Come, Katherine. Mark has fixed our machine. Help
Emma and Abigail to empty the water and I will show you how our
machine works. We can do much more now and prepare supper while it
washes the clothes," she said and made her way up to the porch with
my empty basket.

I walked over to the sisters, who were drawing
buckets into the washtub and emptying out in the nearby row of
bushes. I joined them and soon we had a fire brigade going that
made us laugh at seeing who could be fastest. With the bin emptied,
I helped Emma return it to the barn. Stepping in to the barn my
eyes widened at the size of it.

From the outside it was big of course, but on the
inside, it seemed monstrous. The hayloft above seemed a good place
to hide and read, with bright sun filtering through the beam and
the window above it. There were enough stalls for the Berger's four
horses and the dozen cows we had milked earlier. I hadn't noticed
how big it was at five in the morning in the predawn light.

Awake, it seemed like a cavern.

And the men of this village had erected it by hand.
It was simply amazing.

"Come, Katherine! The day is wasting!" Emma said
excitedly.

For all their simplicity, I had to wonder why they
didn't stop and enjoy what was around them. Maybe it was because
they had so much to do. I stepped back out into the heat and
followed Emma a little more slowly up the porch, stopping when I
looked at the contraption Mark and Jonah had been working on. It
was an old style washer, like what my grandmother had owned when I
was little. I looked at Fannie questioningly.

"It is also gas powered. We do have some
conveniences," she explained with a smile. “Perhaps one day soon,
Jonah will repair the water heater and main water line so that we
can have hot water in the house again. There are just too many
things to do.”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I won’t complain over this convenience,” I replied,
earning a smile from Fannie. My fingers were already pruned up from
all the washing so I was grateful for this added bit of technology
to their simple ways.

“Every little bit is a blessing,” she said
simply.

I helped Fannie put a load of bed sheets in the
washtub, carrying yet more water from the water pump to the machine
before she added soap and started the machine. It wasn't a
complicated process, but it cleaned three times as many clothes as
we had done in half the time. I was happy about that. The less I
had to handle Nathan's underpants the better.

We let the machine run and retreated back into the
house to prepare supper. Since four thirty this morning, we had
been busy. I was beginning to understand why they went to bed so
early. I was exhausted, the last few days and the new lifestyle
taking its toll on me. Fannie seemed to take pity and let me simply
peel potatoes while she made the bread and Emma peeled away the
beans. When we heard the washer finish on the porch, we left our
food and worked as a team to get the laundry on the line and the
second load in the wash. Between the clothes and the linens, Nathan
only had a few loads. Fannie looked over the clothes as we hung
them to dry, frowning at some of the holes and bad patches that
covered some of his rougher clothes. It looked like we’d be mending
his clothes as well as washing. I hoped they had a gas-powered
sewing machine as well; my hand sewing would take days
otherwise.

Back in the kitchen, mountains of potatoes were
peeled, as well as carrots and rutabaga. It seemed like more than
what the family would eat, until Fannie reminded me of the Frolic
coming up in the next few days. We would prepare most of the
feast's dishes the day before so that the Frolic day would be
easier. I sighed in relief when the last potato was peeled and I
could retreat back to the clothesline. It was nearing sunset once
more, and I thought about all I had seen in the last twenty-four
hours. I smiled to myself as I folded the clothes, feeling a sense
of utter accomplishment at all I had done in that time, even if I
was dead on my feet.

I had successfully milked a cow; made the fancy corn
cakes I liked so much, cleaned a man's house, and had been elbow
deep in his underwear. I laughed softly at the thought of how
embarrassed I had been over it when I heard someone come out of the
back door.

"Fannie, do you want me to separate the clothes that
need mending or should I bring it all in and we can look after
supper?" I called out. When she didn’t answer, I pushed the sheet
aside to reveal familiar green eyes staring at me.

Nathan surprised me with his closeness, so much so
that I lurched back in fear, toppling backwards with a loud
exclamation that should have sent Nathan running. Instead he
reached out to my hand that I had thrown out to try to balance and
pulled me back, propelling me again against him. I impacted with a
hard thud, grasping onto him to steady myself. Every time I was
around him I seemed to find myself buried in his chest.

It wasn’t a bad thing.

"Kate."

My whispered name was on his lips was like a quiet
request. It made me shiver against him. His hands moved to pull me
away and right me once more, but only after lingering for just a
little longer than was necessary along my hips. He provided a solid
foundation as I stood there swaying from the headiness of having
him near. Judging by his thundering heartbeat against my hand as I
steadied myself against his chest, he had to have felt
something.

How and why I didn't understand. I was not his kind,
and my mind made sure to remind me that I would be gone in a few
days. This was only temporary.

"Kate?" he asked softly, his voice melting my name.
Meeting his eyes, I could see the uncertainty in them as he stood
there before me.

I smiled up at him and slowly pulled away, just far
enough that I could see his face better. He licked at his lips and
continued to stare down at me, frowning. But this time it didn't
appear out of agitation, but concern. And still his hands cradled
me by the elbows as if to protect me from falling once more. Hands
that didn’t grip me hard, but with a care as if he were afraid he’d
break me. He was nothing like I expected.

He was a puzzle that needed figuring out.

"I'm okay. Good evening, Nathan,” I said trying to
wipe the worry from his face. He pulled away a bit more and his
face softened.

"Pleasant evening, Kate. I am sorry I startled you,"
he murmured, still holding me. “Again.”

I noticed the slight flicker of amusement playing in
his tremulous smile.

"You didn't startle me," I replied, swallowing hard
when his smile widened at my words.

It was like a million suns had exploded in my
stomach. He was beautiful when he smiled.

"So you make it a habit of falling around me then?"
he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I laughed quietly and shrugged.

"I’m not used to the skirt. It’s too long," I replied
and tugged up at the long material, revealing my tennis shoes
underneath.

"I see," he murmured and pulled away from me,
glancing towards the porch before returning his gaze back to me,
bashful. His hands, now free of me, moved to his suspenders as if
determined not to touch me again. Instantly I saw the change in
him.

Guarded. Distancing.

What had I done?

He looked at the pile of clothes in the basket and
then at the remaining linens on the line and shook his head, that
brow puckering again in agitation. The smile that had lit up his
face was gone faster than it had appeared. He finally let out a
breath and looked back at me in resignation.

"I did not wish Fannie to tend to me. Nor you, Kate.
I am sorry if she involved you. I can take care of myself," he said
softly, his eyes now downturned as if embarrassed.

I stepped a little closer to him.

"I didn't mind. I learned a lot today and it was
really no trouble, Nathan. We all need help. You shouldn't have to
do it alone."

His frown grew and he took a measured step away, his
hands gripping the leather of his suspenders tight.

"I am not yours to tend to, Kate. I do fine on my
own. Fannie worries, but she has her own house to worry over. I
thank you for your attention, but I wish you had not," he said and
bent over to retrieve the basket.