Amish Romance: Faith's Story: Three Book Box Set

by Brenda Maxfield

  Nancy cried out. She had said no to her. She buried her face in her hands and moaned again and again. What had she done? She wanted nothing more than to see her daughter, hold her, love her, and explain everything to her. She had wanted this with every breath she’d taken since that day so long ago.

  And now she’d said no.

  No!

  How could she deny the girl? Herself? How?

  Nancy struggled to her feet, her heart shooting pain through her body. She’d had to deny the girl. Abel didn’t know. Her children didn’t know.

  Nancy was glad she hadn’t told Abel the other day. She’d come so close to telling him. And now, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Not now. Not with the possibility of the girl finding her and coming to Landover Creek, and then everyone in the district finding out what she’d done.

  No. No. No. It couldn’t be.

  It simply couldn’t be.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rays of sun shimmered over Faith’s face, waking her up. For a long minute, she couldn’t remember where she was. Her eyes traveled around the room, taking in the simple dresser, the pegs on the walls.

  With a rush, it all came back to her. Her head hurt. Her eyes burned and felt swollen. Too much crying.

  She sat up and looked out the window toward the fields of corn, their tassels fluttering in the breeze. Overwhelming sadness enveloped her, and she pressed her hands to the base of her throat. Her eyes welled with tears, and she blinked rapidly. Enough was enough. She could not, would not cry any more.

  She had her answer now. Her mother did not want her.

  But what about all her other questions? What about them?

  What was her mother like? Had she married? Did she have other children? Did Faith have half-brothers and sisters? Were there aunts and uncles? And what had happened to the young Amish girl? To have ended up pregnant in such a conservative community? And had she ever wanted Faith? Ever?

  Old Mae told me that she’d had no choice. The words swam through her mind and heart. No choice. No choice.

  Maybe, her mother still had no choice. Maybe that’s why she wouldn’t see her.

  Faith sat motionless, breathing the cool morning air that wafted through the open window. The questions pulled at her, but strangely, the familiar heaviness had lessened. The unbearable weight that had accompanied her for the last years had changed. That horrible feeling of uncertainty, the pressing need for facts—oh, they were still there, but the crushing sense of it all had changed into a breathlessness. An eagerness. Faith knew something now. She knew where her mother lived. She knew Old Mae, the woman who had actually brought her into the world. A new lightness played around the edges of her awareness. Her brow crinkled down over her forehead.

  And her mind reeled. Why in the world would she be feeling a lightness when the entire goal of her trip had been a bust? She hadn’t met her mother. And it didn’t look likely that she ever would.

  It made no sense.

  She stood and walked over to the window. A lark swooped over the corn, made circles in the sky, and disappeared.

  What was happening to her?

  And then she understood. No, she wouldn’t force herself into someone’s life who didn’t want her. But she had a connection now. A real live connection in Old Mae. Faith could communicate with her. Hadn’t the old woman been sorry to give her the negative news? Faith pressed her hands against her chest. Old Mae had looked regretful. She had.

  There was nothing stopping Faith from writing to the old woman. And even if Old Mae never wrote her back, Faith could tell her things. About herself and her life. And maybe, just maybe, Old Mae would pass the news on to her mother.

  It wasn’t what Faith had hoped for, but it was something. More than she’d had before she started her trip.

  She had taken action. She had done something, even if she couldn’t control the outcome. She turned around and knelt next to her suitcase, which had fallen to the floor in the night. She pulled out the kapp she’d purchased in Landover Creek. She placed it gently on her head and stood to pick up the hand mirror lying on the dresser.

  She squinted at her reflection. Yes, she could see herself as Amish. She could look the part.

  Look the part?

  She cringed at her own words. She took off the head covering, knelt back down, and tucked the kapp carefully back into her luggage. She would keep it forever as a connection.

  “Faith?” A male voice.

  Faith jumped up from the floor and dashed out to the front room. “Seth?”

  He stood on the other side of the screen door, wearing a cautious smile. She rushed to the door and opened it. “What are you doing here?”

  “I drove here after my late shift. I’m going to follow you home in my car.”

  She gaped at him. “But why?”

  He pulled her to him in a hug so tender, so encompassing that she couldn’t breathe. He kissed the top of her head and then held her away to look deeply into her eyes. “You were so upset. I was worried. I didn’t want you making the trip home alone.”

  She reached up and caressed his cheek. His skin was smooth and cool under her touch. “Seth,” she whispered. “Oh, Seth.”

  He drew her into his arms again and kissed her. When he let go, she glanced over his shoulder and saw Katy gaping at them. Faith quickly backed away from Seth.

  “Oh Katy, I didn’t see you.”

  Katy’s eyes were stretched wide. Without a word, she turned and fled back to the big house.

  “Oh no,” Faith said. “I need to go inside and explain.”

  “When you do, tell them I love you,” Seth said, squeezing her shoulder. “Maybe then they won’t be so shocked.”

  Faith gave a light laugh. “I don’t think that will do it.” She started toward the big house and then hesitated and turned back to him. “Thank you, Seth.”

  He nodded at her.

  “I’m glad you came.”

  He nodded again.

  “And I’m glad I came, too. I have a connection now. I’m going to be all right.”

  He let go of the screen door, and it slammed shut behind him. He stepped further out on the porch. “You know who you are, then?”

  Faith shrugged. “No. Not really. But better than I did before I came.” She smiled at him then and felt the lightness inside her grow a bit brighter.

  The night before, when she had sobbed so hopelessly, she’d thought it was all over. But it wasn’t. There was still hope. Her mother was going to know about her whether she wanted to or not because Faith was going to write Old Mae regularly. And even if her mother never acknowledged her or answered her, it was still something, wasn’t it?

  Faith ran her fingers along the smooth siding of the big house as she walked up to the door. Yes, it was something. She smiled.

  It was something, indeed.

  The End

  Changing Her Mind

  Faith’s Story Book Two

  Chapter One

  For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God,

  ye might receive the promise.

  Hebrews 10:36 (King James Version)

  Nancy Hershberger had a raging headache. She tried lying down, but Miriam was teething and her continual fussing put a quick end to any hope of rest. She tried a cup of chamomile tea, but the hot liquid running down her throat made the headache worse. She tried rubbing her own temples, but that only seemed to drive the pain further within.

  It was no use. She’d just have to put up with it until it left on its own.

  “Mamm!” Gracie yelled, slamming the screen door behind her.

  “What is it?” Nancy asked.

  “Jimmy ain’t lettin’ me swing. He’s hogged the tire forever!”

  Nancy sighed. “Where’s Debbie? Can’t she settle it?”

  “Debbie’s reading a book on the porch. She told me to mind my own business.”

  Nancy shifted the baby to her other hip and walked out to the front porch. “Debbie
, can’t you help a bit?”

  Debbie looked up from her book. From the distant look in her eyes, Nancy could tell that the girl was on another plane, no doubt immersed in some make-believe world.

  “Debbie!” Nancy said again, more firmly.

  Debbie flinched, her eyes clearing. “What, Mamm?”

  “Will you please take care of Jimmy and Gracie?” The pain grew sharper in Nancy’s head, and she battled a sudden urge to burst into tears.

  “Okay.” Debbie draped her book carefully over the arm of the rocker and grabbed Gracie’s hand. Together, they headed out across the yard where the tire swing hung on a thick branch of a sweeping oak tree.

  Nancy closed her eyes for a moment and then returned to the kitchen. Abel and Jeremy would be in from the fields soon and supper wasn’t ready. She put Miriam in her high chair and sprinkled the tray with a handful of dry cereal. That should keep the baby busy for a while. She moved to the sink and filled a pitcher with cool water.

  It was the second day that the headache had tormented her. If only…

  Nancy cringed. She knew full well the exact moment the pain had started. And she knew full well why it had started.

  She recalled every single thing about that dreadful hour…

  Little Abe from the farm to the west had come running, his short legs pumping furiously. “The phone!” he hollered when he saw Nancy on the porch. “There’s a call for you!”

  Nancy stood and dropped her knitting to the porch floor. “What is that, Little Abe? A phone call for me?” Her mind raced to think of even one person who might be calling her.

  “I answered it in the phone shanty. The lady’s waitin’ for you.” He stopped and took huge gulping breaths. “She sounds old.”

  “But for me?” Nancy stared at him stupidly. “Are you sure?”

  “You’re Nancy Hershberger, ain’t you?”

  Nancy quickly opened the screen and hollered inside for Debbie to watch the baby and the other children. Then she scurried after Abe down the road to the phone shanty.

  “See?” he said, pointing to the receiver dangling loosely from its cord. “She’s waitin’ for you.”

  “Thank you, Abe.” Having no earthly idea who could possibly be calling her, Nancy picked up the phone. Truth be told, she’d only used the phone twice before in her entire life. And both of those times had been regarding a glitch in a large seed order from the local dry goods store.

  “Hello?” she said, her voice tremulous.

  “Nancy Hershberger?” came a voice that indeed did sound old, just as Abe had said.

  “Jah.”

  “This is Old Mae from Hollybrook.”

  The second the woman identified herself, Nancy went completely stiff. She looked out the open door of the shanty to where Abe still stood, watching her.

  “Thank you, Abe,” she managed to choke out. “You can run along now.” Her hand trembled when she caught the shanty door and swung it closed.

  “Mae?” Nancy’s thin, shaky voice was unrecognizable, even to herself.

  “I’ve got some news.”

  Nancy’s grip on the phone tightened. Her eyes went wide and dry. She braced herself.

  “Your daughter has come around looking for you.”

  The air gushed from Nancy’s lungs, and she fell back against the wall of the shanty. She opened her mouth but no sound came.

  “She wants to meet you. She knows your name is Nancy.”

  Nancy’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut now, and her face was contorted. “What?” she whispered.

  “Don’t fret. I didn’t tell her anything. I’m asking your permission.”

  “Nee. Nee,” Nancy cried. “Abel doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Nee.”

  “I figured that would be the case.”

  Nancy’s mind whirled, and nausea crept up her throat. “What’s her name?”

  “Her name is Faith. She’s a good girl, Nancy. I can tell.”

  A good girl. A good girl. Nancy tried to grasp the words.

  “I’ll tell her no, then?”

  “Please tell her I have no choice. Tell her that, would you?” The words rushed from Nancy’s lips. Her daughter was there? In Hollybrook? Just hours away? And she wanted to meet her?

  A deep and overpowering yearning gripped Nancy by the throat. Her daughter. After nineteen years. Nancy could meet her. Know her. She tried to gasp in enough air. The phone shanty was too small. Claustrophobic even. She pressed her free hand against the wall beside her. Her collar was too tight. How did a person breathe in there?

  “Nancy?” It was the old woman.

  “What?”

  “Don’t fret. I’ll tell her. She’ll be fine.”

  Nancy gripped the receiver with both hands now, as if it could save her. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Take care of yourself. It’s all in the gut Lord’s hands.” The line went dead.

  Nancy dropped the phone as if it were a venomous snake. She sank to the floor of the shanty, sobs lurching up her throat and shaking her to her core.

  For nineteen years, she had mourned the loss of her daughter. For nineteen years, she had wanted to see her, hold her, and love her. For. Nineteen. Years.

  And now, she had her chance.

  And she’d said no.

  She scrambled up and fell against the door, stumbling out of the shanty. With tears blinding her, she started back to her house. She walked erratically, nearly tripping over her own feet. Faith. Her daughter’s name was Faith.

  A beautiful name.

  A good girl.

  A pounding started in her head. A raging drumming pain that filled her until she could barely think. She continued putting one foot in the front of the other. Step. Step. Step. She had to get home. She had to get home and go to bed.

  Her gait was off, as if she couldn’t keep her balance. She focused on a tree down the road. She stared at it and walked toward it. Step. Step. Step.

  “Mamm?”

  Nancy jolted to the side of the road as if a truck were barreling toward her.

  “Mamm? What’s wrong?” It was Jeremy.

  Nancy swallowed and blinked hard, trying to focus on her son’s worried face.

  “You went running out of the house. Debbie said Little Abe came for you. Are you all right?”

  “Jah.” Nancy coughed and cleared her throat. With intense effort, she put on a smile. “I’m right fine.”

  “Was it a phone call? Debbie thought it was.”

  Nancy didn’t answer. How could she explain receiving a phone call?

  “Was it, Mamm?”

  “Never you mind, Jeremy.” She kept the smile fixed to her face. “What I want to know is whether you’ve seen to mending the chicken coop yet.”

  Jeremy frowned and fell into step with her. “I’m working on it,” he said.

  Nancy concentrated on breathing. She was minutes away from fainting away right there on the side of the road, which would scare Jeremy out of his wits. She had to get ahold of herself.

  “Your smile looks weird,” Jeremy said, and Nancy could hear the nervousness in his voice.

  She wiped the smile from her face. “I’m feeling a bit poorly, but I didn’t want to concern you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A headache is all.”

  “But Mamm, about the ph—”

  “Your dat will be needing some help in the north field today,” she interrupted him. “Before you eat your snack, I want you out there helping him.”

  “Jah, Mamm.” Jeremy gave her another puzzled glance, but Nancy kept her eyes averted.

  They walked on in silence all the way up to the porch. Then Jeremy left her, running out behind the house to the fields. Nancy stumbled up the steps and collapsed in the rocker. From inside, she heard baby Miriam bellowing. The child was hungry.

  Tears again blinding her eyes, Nancy went inside, straight to the baby’s cradle.

  Faith sat cross-legged on her bed, chewing the end of her pencil. She stared at t
he blank piece of paper on her lap. This was it. Her first letter to Old Mae in Hollybrook, Indiana. She hoped the woman wouldn’t be too shocked to receive it.

  She bit her lip. And she prayed Mae would pass it along to her birth mother—whoever her birth mother was. Faith knew the woman lived in Landover Creek. There were times, still, when all Faith wanted to do was jump in her car, cross the state line, drive straight to Landover Creek, and plant herself there until her mother identified herself. Faith would stand right in the middle of Main Street if she had to. She’d wear a sign if she had to. She’d beg if she had to.

  Faith felt the tears burn the backs of her eyelids. She blew out her breath. She was being childish. She was not going to dwell on her own failure to find her mother. She wasn’t. She’d found Old Mae, hadn’t she? She’d found the woman who had helped bring her into the world.

  That was a huge discovery. Huge.

  And now, she was going to write to the woman in hopes that Old Mae would pass the letters on to her birth mother. Old Mae knew who her mother was, but she wouldn’t tell.

  Because her mother didn’t want to meet her.

  Faith’s jaw tightened. She’d come to some semblance of peace with that knowledge. Well, almost, anyway. Faith had made up an elaborate scenario in which her presence would absolutely devastate the loved ones in her mother’s present life. Therefore, her mother didn’t have a choice in the matter. She had to refuse meeting her.

  Faith raised her brows. At least, that’s what she hoped. Otherwise, the truth was too horrible to ponder. Faith chewed the end of her pencil for another moment before putting it to the paper.

  Dear Mae,

  I’m sure you’re probably shocked to hear from me. To be honest, I’m not even sure you’ll read my letter, but I do hope you will. I understand that you can’t tell me who my mother is. I know my mother doesn’t want you to. So, I thought that maybe I could write to you, and then you could share these letters with her.

  It’s not the same as writing directly to her, I know. But it’s the only thing I can think of doing. Outside of going to Landover Creek and snooping around some more.