by Ruth Reid
“Why?”
He tossed his head and chuckled. “Do you always have to ask why?”
Gideon had commented more than once that she did too much thinking, and while she’d be apt to agree with him, it wasn’t easy to turn off her thoughts. “I suppose I do have a curious nature, but seriously, why do you ask?”
He released the brake and, without saying another word, tapped the reins.
The stores on Main Street were closed for the holiday with the exception of the small party store at the edge of town. Anyone who wanted to watch the fireworks drove to either Rogers City or Alpena. Posen never managed to raise enough funds, and money earmarked for the Potato Festival in September was sacred in this town.
Within a few minutes, he turned onto Leer road, but as they approached her farm, he didn’t slow down. Faith nudged his arm. “So, why are you being secretive?”
“Curiosity getting the best of you, is it?”
“You just passed mei haus.”
They came to US-23 and he turned to the left. A few miles later, before the Calcite limestone quarry and Rogers City, Gideon pulled into an unpopulated roadside park and set the brake. “I thought we could eat our pie at one of the picnic tables.” He gazed up at the sky. “It’s a clear nacht. Maybe we’ll be able see some fireworks.”
“That’s a lovely idea.” Now it made sense why he was in such a hurry to leave the restaurant.
Gideon got out and tied Bay to the sign stating the park hours. “There’s a table closer to the water,” he said before stopping momentarily at the back of the buggy. He circled around to the passenger side and offered to carry the pie container.
Faith carried the drinks as she walked alongside him on a sandy foot trail, the waves of Lake Huron growing louder. Mosquitoes buzzed around her head, but with her hands full it was impossible to swat them away. She rubbed her ear on her shoulder, which shooed them away briefly.
Gideon smiled. “I brought a citronella candle,” he said, lifting a glass jar. “Once we get to the table, I’ll light it.”
The pesky mosquitoes shouldn’t be out much longer now that it was dark, but it was nice he’d thought to bring the candle. A popping sound in the distance caught her attention. Blues and reds lit the sky.
“You’re right about it being a clear nacht,” she said. The view was even better closer to the water. They opted not to sit at the picnic table but sat on a large piece of driftwood on the sand instead.
Faith removed her shoes and wiggled her toes in the cool sand. “I haven’t been to the lake in a long time.” She lifted her face into the wind and breathed in the dank scent. “I love the sound of waves washing ashore, don’t you?”
“Jah,” he said, hovering over the candle while striking a match. “Other than it’s too windy this close to the water to keep the candle lit.”
“That’s okay.” The mosquitoes weren’t too bad, and the moonlight reflecting off the water and the fireworks provided enough light. She handed him one of the drinks, then pointed to the sky as more fireworks went off. “Ooh, they’re so pretty. That one too.”
“Too bad we couldn’t have gotten a little closer to where they’re being set off.”
“Nay, this is perfect.” Nothing could top being on the shoreline of massive Lake Huron and digging her toes into the sand while sitting next to Gideon.
He gently tapped her forearm with a fork, then rested the pie container on his knees and opened it. “Did you talk with your parents today?”
“Nay. I can’t talk with them without telling them about the burglary, and if I tell them about that, they would only worry.”
“They’ll hear about it from someone else. Don’t you think it’d be better coming from you?” Gideon stabbed his fork into the pie and began to devour the treat.
She leaned closer and took a forkful of pie, getting mostly crust. “Can we talk about something else?”
He pointed to the pie with his fork. “This is really gut.”
“Danki, I used your cherries.” She watched another firestorm of color dance across the sky. “I’m worried mei parents will be disappointed in me,” she said. “I should have locked the door before cleaning off the tables.”
“It was a mistake.” He jabbed at more pie. “You checked the door at least three times tonight.”
“Four.”
“See, you’re already more conscientious.”
“But the money is still gone and that’s mei fault.”
He motioned to the pie. “You stopped eating. Don’t you want more?”
“I’m nett very hungry.”
“Has it crossed your mind that maybe your . . . thoughts are too consumed with money?”
“I don’t think I’m consumed,” she said. He should know money is an important factor in business.
“Maybe that’s the wrong word. Too focused. Too worried.” He shrugged. “You do talk about finances a lot.”
Faith looked up at the dark sky. “I think the fireworks show ended.”
“Maybe.” He tilted the take-out container her direction. “Last bite. You want it?”
“Nay, danki.” Her stomach had soured from all the talk about her obsessive thoughts.
He dove his fork into the remaining pie, chewed it slowly, then licked the fork clean. “Danki, your pie was delicious.” He took a drink of his lemonade.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She picked up her shoes, the empty drink and pie containers, and stood. “We should probably go.”
“Nau?” He scrambled to his feet and followed her to the trash can. “Faith, we haven’t had much time alone.” He reached for her hand and held it. “I want to spend time with you.”
“You do?” Faith’s eyes darted from his to the sky as she struggled to compose herself.
“You sound surprised.”
A burst of popping noises echoed, followed by a spray of cascading silver and gold sparkles lightening the dark sky. Faith smiled. “That one seemed on top of us.”
Without looking up, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “I wasn’t watching the fireworks.”
He leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning her neck triggering a pleasant shudder. Something had gotten into him—into her as well. Kiss me already.
He touched her cheek lightly, tracing her jawline.
“Gideon,” she rasped.
Twigs snapped behind them. A flashlight flared in their direction. “I’m sorry, folks. The park hours are dawn to dusk.”
Faith recognized the police officer’s voice as one of the regulars at The Amish Table. Officer Porter, the officer who had taken their statement last night after the robbery. He knew most of the Amish in their district, her mother, father, probably Gideon’s mother, and the bishop.
Gideon moved in front of Faith. “I’m sorry, Officer. We lost track of the time.”
“You two should head home before it gets much later. Fourth of July is notorious for drunk drivers.”
“Yes, sir.” Gideon placed his hand on Faith’s lower back and guided her toward the trail.
The officer aimed the flashlight toward the path. “How are your parents doing?” he asked Faith once they reached the parking area.
Better than she was doing at the moment. “Mei father is still in the hospital recovering from leg surgery.” She fought to suppress the nervous quiver in her voice. “Mei mother has internal bruising and problems with one of her kidneys.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Gideon opened the passenger door for Faith. “Have you found the driver who ran them off the road?”
“Not yet, but we have a few leads we’re working on.”
“What about the man who robbed The Amish Table last nacht?”
“That’s still under investigation too.”
Faith slid onto the bench and cowered in the shadow of the lamppost while Gideon talked more with Officer Porter about the accident. After a few moments, Gideon was in the buggy and they were headed down the road. “
Sorry I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten,” he said sheepishly.
Traffic on US-23 kept Gideon focused on the road. Faith hadn’t so much as made a peep since they’d left the roadside park.
He glanced at Faith, arms hugging herself and slouched with her head against the door. “You kalt?”
“Nay, I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. “You upset?”
Faith adjusted her position and wrung her hands together. “I wish the officer hadn’t shown up.”
Me too.
“The officer knows mei parents,” she continued.
Her melancholy tone pricked his conscience. “Are you worried about your baptism?”
She shrugged.
“We haven’t done anything wrong.” Gideon divided his attention between watching the road and trying to glimpse Faith. “Don’t fret, okay?”
She sighed heavily. “Okay.”
It probably wasn’t the best time to ask about tomorrow, but he did anyway. “Do you want to go fishing after work?”
Faith shifted on the seat to face him. “Do you nett care at all what Olivia will think of us spending so much time together?”
“Nope.” He kept his eyes on Bay as a car passed. “Does that bother you?”
“Nay—well, jah, a little.” She huffed out another breath and turned to look out the passenger window. “Olivia more or less indicated she might be ready to join the church.”
“When?” Gideon said.
“The other day. I told her we were only friends.”
Even focused on the road, he sensed her gaze burrowing into him. Dare he admit to wanting more than friendship? Gideon held his words until he pulled into her driveway and stopped Bay. “Faith, I’m nett in love with Olivia. I’m happy if she chooses to join the church, but I couldn’t love or marry someone who stole money, especially from her parents.”
Faith lowered her head and hand-pressed the folds of her dress.
He reached for her hand. “So what do you say about going fishing with me?”
“I had a nice time watching the fireworks with you tonight, Gideon,” Faith said softly.
“I had a nice time too.” He gently squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”
Her heart thumped against her ribs. If only this moment could last forever. She slipped her hand out from his. “You’re basing your decision about Olivia on rumors.”
“Let’s nett talk about Olivia. I want to spend time with you.”
Faith glanced out the side window of the buggy at the house.
Dark, no sign of activity. Just as she suspected, Olivia hadn’t gone home from work with a headache. Her sister had lied. Was she also lying about reconsidering Gideon’s proposal? Joining the church?
“I can’t go fishing with you. Nett when . . . Gut nacht, Gideon.” Faith climbed out of the buggy and hurried up the porch steps. If she sat with him any longer, she would change her mind. She grabbed the doorknob but stopped to draw a deep breath. After having a gun pointed at her yesterday, going inside a dark house rattled her nerves.
Gideon hiked up the steps behind Faith. “Let me go in first.”
Relief washed over her as she stepped aside. Once inside, she lit the lantern, then went to the cabinet next to the sink and removed a water glass.
“Do you want me to stay until Olivia comes home?”
She shook her head.
“Your hand is trembling.”
So were her insides. Faith filled the glass with water and took a drink. “I’m better nau. You can go home.”
Gideon inched closer. “I thought you were brave yesterday.”
She shook her head. “I was terrified.”
“Jah, me too.” He clasped her upper arms. “I felt helpless. He held a gun to your head and I didn’t know what to do.”
Her eyes burned as memories came to life again of the man’s glove over her mouth and cold steel pressed against her temple.
Gideon ushered her into his arms. “Please, don’t think about it.”
If only letting go of the memory was that easy. She rested her head on his shoulder a few moments, then mustered enough courage to break away. “It’s getting late. You should go.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay until Olivia comes home?”
Faith nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early.” He made his way to the door. “I’m bringing mei fishing poles. You need a break from all the stress.”
“We’ll see.” First she wanted to find out if Olivia was still in love with Gideon—if she planned to stay Amish. Faith wasn’t about to be the reason her sister jumped the fence.
Hours later, Faith ambled up the stairs to bed, yawning. Waiting up for Olivia to come home from the fireworks had been a mistake. Faith could have been asleep hours ago, but she needed answers. She slipped into her nightdress and climbed under the covers. Halfway through her prayers, she nodded off.
Footsteps on the stairs awakened Faith. The door creaked open, and moonlight spilling in through the window highlighted her sister’s figure.
Faith pushed up in bed. “Olivia, where have you been? You left work because you had a headache.”
“I went to watch the fireworks with friends.” She changed into her nightclothes, tossing her dress on the floor.
“The fireworks ended hours ago.”
“Faith, let it be.” Olivia’s bedsprings squeaked as she plopped down.
Faith rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Three.”
Faith growled under her breath. “I suppose you’re nett going into work today.”
“Nett if you keep talking to me.”
“The restaurant was robbed,” she blurted.
“What! When?”
“The nacht before last a man wearing a bandana over his face came in after we closed and held a gun to mei head. He took the money from the till.”
Olivia was silent a long moment. When she spoke, her words sounded like they were caught in her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Faith refused to make excuses. “You left work early with a headache, which I gather was a lie. I thought you were ready to give up your rumspringa and join the church.”
Chapter 22
One week after the restaurant was robbed, Gideon flipped through the pages of the Detroit News as he waited for the coffee to brew at The Amish Table. With Catherine late and Olivia a no-show, he wasn’t about to leave Faith alone. He skimmed over the Flint water contamination problems and stopped on a story featuring farmer’s almanac historical weather predictions and today’s report expecting partly cloudy, high of eighty-four. He needed to water his blueberry bushes.
The aroma of fresh coffee filled the dining room. Gideon poured two mugs, adding cream and sugar to Faith’s. He headed into the kitchen where she was busy making bread dough.
“Kaffi’s done.” He set a mug on the counter next to where she was working.
“Danki.” She sifted flour over the counter, then dusted her hands.
Watching her work reminded him of his mother. A knot formed in his stomach. “Do you have a few minutes you can spare before Catherine arrives? I want to ask you something.”
“I will as soon as I divide the dough.” She plopped the dough onto the countertop and began kneading it. A few minutes later, several bread pans were positioned near the stove and left to rise. Faith washed and dried her hands, then picked up her mug and blew on the coffee. “What did you want to ask me?”
“Did you sleep okay last nacht?”
“Are the dark circles under mei eyes that bad?” She smiled sheepishly before taking a sip of coffee.
“Nay.” He just couldn’t think of how to bring up having supper with his family when she’d already turned down fishing with him after work.
Faith lowered the mug. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I sorta promised mei mamm we’d have supper with her.” He cringed. “Tomorrow.”
Faith cr
inkled her brows. “We—as in you and me?”
He nodded. Bringing a maedel home to have supper with the family was a first for him. In their district courting was usually more private. “Mamm’s curious—about us,” he confessed. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s been over a week since I’ve been home for supper—nett that I’m complaining.”
“Curious about us—what does she think is going on?”
He didn’t quite understand if that quiver in her voice was panic, fear, or excitement. Perhaps this was a mistake. “I told Mamm it might nett be possible for you to get off work, and if you can’t then—”
“I’ll see if I can arrange someone to work for me.” She smiled. “It’s nice that you asked.”
He blew out a breath, then felt silly for not covering up his nervousness better. “Ever since I told Mamm about the robbery, she’s been worried about you—and Olivia.”
“Oh, I see.” Faith’s smile deflated. “You invited Olivia too?”
“I didn’t, but I’m nett sure—”
A hard knock on the back door caused Faith to jump. Her eyes grew large and she swallowed hard.
“Stay here.” Gideon went to the back door and called, “Who is it?”
“Catherine.”
He unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door.
“I’m so glad you thought to lock the door.” Catherine set a basket of vegetables on the counter. “I thought we could make vegetable soup and use the rest in a potpie.”
Faith stepped forward, her eyes widening. “This is very generous.”
“I made a few stops on mei way. The turnips are from Patty and the carrots, celery, and onions are from Noreen’s garden. Every little bit helps.” Catherine removed an apron from the wall hook.
“Jah, it sure does.” Faith turned toward the dining room and spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll turn the sign.”
Gideon joined Faith in the dining room. “Would you like me to stay longer?”
“Danki, but Catherine and I will be okay.” She flipped the sign, then unlocked the front door, her hands shaking.
Gideon groaned under his breath. Two women shouldn’t be running this place alone. Where were Olivia and the others? His mother made it her mission to organize extra helpers, but no one had arrived and he refused to leave Faith until someone else showed up. Suddenly, chatter filtered into the dining room from the kitchen. He exchanged a glance with Faith, then rushed through the swinging doors.