I raised my eyebrow at her and shook my head.
"We'll see," I replied, skeptical. I had never made many friends ever.
"Come, we need to sleep. Father will have us up for the cows in no time," she murmured and yawned as if to illustrate the point. Her yawn was contagious, reminding me of how long it had been since I had had a good night’s sleep.
It had only been two days on the road. But it felt like forever ago I had enjoyed a dreamless night. I shivered at the idea of what my dreams would bring, and how Sean might never leave me alone, awake or asleep.
I watched as she blew out the candle on the nightstand, throwing us into the darkest night I had ever known. It took several minutes until my eyes could adjust to the dim light, my mind playing tricks by imposing images in the dark. Not the same images that had haunted me for the last few days, these were startling in a different way.
Deep green eyes and a strong back as it walked away from me took me into my dreams.
Why did my mind linger on the stranger?
I had obviously offended him.
Not that it mattered; I would be gone in a few days.
But his manner had me perplexed; his shy smile had made me a little uneasy. My mind lingered on his face, his brief, timid smile as he spoke to me those few moments and the sea green eyes that drew me into his world. Everything else that had happened to me over the course of the day drifted into oblivion.
But the Amish man, Nathan, haunted my dreams.
Chapter 3
Katherine.
My name sounded strange coming from his lips. Sean never called me by my formal name. Was he trying to trick me? Lure me back?
Katherine.
I struggled against his iron grip, turning before he could push me to the ground again. I felt him nudge me and I whimpered, knowing that he was seconds from ripping at my clothes. I had to get away. I looked around for anything to fight with, freezing in fear when I saw a silhouette of a man behind Sean coming towards us. The wide brimmed hat looked eerily familiar. The light from the hallway caught a flash of green, and I was trapped in the stranger’s stare. Warm and crinkling eyes offering me a way from the biting grip on my body.
Help me.
"Katherine."
My eyes flew open and I sat up quickly, nearly toppling out of the tiny bed that wasn’t my own. I wasn't home, and it wasn't Sean’s voice that woke me. Looking around in the murky darkness, I found Emma, fully dressed and pouring steaming water into a basin on her vanity. I pulled my hand through my hair, feeling disoriented and unsettled as I tried to get accustomed to my surroundings. The culmination of the last few days swirled and coalesced into muddled memories in my head in the form of my nightmare. I could still feel Sean’s hands gripping my hips, holding me still. I could still see green eyes staring down at me.
Emma whispered my name again, shaking me out of the dream still playing in my head.
"We have to get ready for the day, Katherine. There's fresh water here for cleaning, and I have set out a new shift for you to wear today. Do not dally. Father will have us looking after the pigs if we are late."
I nodded and moved to get up, my body stiff from the soft bed. I felt dirty, disheveled and road weary sitting there in Emma’s crisp and clean bed linens.
I was desperate for a shower.
“You were whimpering in your sleep,” she said in the darkness as I pulled the dress I had worn the day prior from the hook.
I didn’t turn to look at her; I could tell from her voice that she was concerned.
“Just a dream,” I murmured and held the dress to me tightly as if to hide how raw and exposed I still felt from the dream, let alone her questions. Emma must have understood because she turned silently and left me to get ready, the door closing quietly in the darkness. I looked towards the little girl Abigail’s bed to find it empty and neatly made.
I made the bed I had slept in with lightning speed and then stumbled through a fast cleaning routine, the sponge bath cold merely for the briskness of the predawn air. Once again I struggled with the layers of clothes required of me, tripping several times on the hem of my skirt that was just a few inches too long. When I made it downstairs, Jonah gave me a cursory nod before looking off to Emma and Abigail who waited by the door with large silver jugs.
"The cows are needy. Show Katherine how we appease them," he said softly before taking another smaller bucket off the back porch and making his way into the darkness.
Abigail looked up at me and smiled as she handed me her silver jug.
"Have you ever milked a cow, Katherine?" she asked, giggling when I shook my head. She took my hand and dragged me out into the predawn towards the large barn, Emma already a few steps ahead of us.
I had a feeling this was going to be a long day.
~~~~
"My good wife, these cakes are heavenly this morning," Jonah beamed from the end of the table during breakfast.
Fannie smiled and nodded towards me.
"Dear husband, our newest daughter did make them this morning. She is proving to be quite helpful in the kitchen," she commented, pursing her lips when Hannah let out an exaggerated breath.
Emma leaned in close and whispered, "Hannah is not gifted in matters of the kitchen."
Abigail laughed into her juice while Hannah merely sat up straighter, feigning indifference.
"My quilts are well sought after. God graced me with a steady hand for stitching. I am content with that.”
"Quilts do not feed the family," Fannie said, winking at me as I looked from person to person in this odd interchange. I continued to be surprised by just how personable this family could be, and yet still so foreign to me in so many ways.
Hannah's cool glare bore into me, her smile tight and never reaching her eyes.
"Well, I suppose if Katherine were to remain here among us, she will have no trouble finding a husband. Her cooking renown will precede her, no doubt. Too bad she will only be here for a few days."
I blushed and looked away at her remark. I had no intention of staying. I was an outsider after all. This was not my world. She was right. I’d be gone in a few days, even if my dreams had centered around one particular Amish man.
We finished up breakfast and I was clearing away the last of the dishes when I overheard Jonah and Fannie talking near the doorway.
"Nathan works too hard to go without eating. I cannot understand why he would not come for supper. That is most unusual for him," Jonah was saying as he picked up his hat and made his way towards the door.
"I will take Abigail and Katherine with me to bring him some breakfast. I will speak with him about supper tonight. He cannot say no to me," Fannie suggested as she straightened her husband's shirt.
"This is why I love you, Fannie. You see the need in those around you, and you tend to it without worry. Nathan would do well if he found someone such as you," he murmured and leaned in to tuck a stray hair that had worked free of Fannie's bun.
I watched their interchange in fascination. Jonah smiled down at her, his eyes bright while his wife doted on him. She eyed him playfully and grinned up at him when he pulled her a little closer in a loose embrace. I lingered by the stove, feeling as if I were intruding on the simple way Fannie took care of Jonah.
I had no reference to a normal married couple. My mother had been aloof and reticent to any affection my father had given her, which was just as well. He had never made much effort to do much for us, his work with the city taking precedence. They had fought constantly, and too many times I remember my mother drinking herself to oblivion and disappearing for days. My parents were the quintessential dysfunctional couple.
Now I was in Amish country, with a married couple that loved one another so simply and yet so completely. You could tell in the soft smile that graced Jonah's face that he loved his wife. In public, he was stoic and straightforward, even a little forbidding. But with his family, he was gentle. He treated her like a partner rather than a possession. I was l
earning that love was more than physical, was more than simply having it to use. It was about sharing, and taking care of one another.
In the twenty-four hours I had been with this family, I had not once heard Jonah belittle his wife like my dad had done all those years. If anything Jonah Berger worshipped his wife, and she him. It was completely foreign to me, for I had never seen my family act as the Bergers did. Maybe it was the Amish way.
I was discovering that Englishers such as myself had little understanding of how the Amish truly lived.
We seemed to judge the Amish unfairly, simply because of their strict beliefs. They were perhaps strange in that we didn't understand them. I was finding out that their beliefs weren't much different from our own. We just clouded our beliefs with prejudice. I felt suddenly ashamed at how I had thought of them just the night before, making fun of the obvious choices they made at keeping their life uncomplicated.
The Amish kept it simple. There was no need for television or cars that took you away from your home. They had everything they needed. Simple was fine for them. They had a purpose in their lives. If given the opportunity, I wondered if I would prefer the simple life to all that my world had to offer. As I thought of a life here, those haunting eyes of the Amish man entered my mind once more.
I pulled myself out of my thoughts when I heard Fannie clear her throat and look at me curiously. I must have zoned out on the two of them, because I was still staring at her when my eyes focused on her bemused smile. Jonah was nowhere to be seen.
"And what has you so transfixed, Katherine?" she asked, her eyes full of mischief.
Mischief.
These people were so confounding.
I cleared my throat and wiped down the tabletop absently.
"I'm sorry. I admire your sense of family I guess. Your love for Jonah is rather beautiful," I whispered, feeling my face burn with embarrassment.
She patted my hand and her smile grew.
"You do not have love in your world?" she asked while she pulled out a large basket from a nearby cupboard.
I shook my head and laughed.
"We have love; it’s maybe just a lot more complicated. Here, it seems so pure. We seem to muddy it up and taint it somehow," I replied and avoided her eyes.
Fannie was quiet beside me for a moment before she turned and busied herself spooning some of the egg casserole she had made into a deep bowl and covering it with a linen cloth. Her silence made me assume that perhaps I had overstepped in my observations, and rather than apologize and embarrass myself further, I set to helping her. I wrapped some of the corn cakes into another cloth and laid them carefully into the basket. I was proud of my corn cakes, Fannie having shown me how to make them before I had fully woken up. The cakes had turned out so well that Jonah had mistaken them for Fannie's.
It seemed my cooking was not so lackluster as my father and Sean made me believe.
We packed everything up into the basket and set out for the Fisher farm, Abigail skipping ahead of us up the hill. She’d find a flower in the grass and pull it out to make a small bouquet in her hands before rushing off again, laughing in the breeze. I was less enthusiastic about this errand.
I was extremely nervous about seeing Nathan again.
Nathan Fisher.
Even his name left a strange feeling in my stomach.
A tense knotting that was not quite painful, but left me finding it hard to breathe.
Or it could have been the hill we climbed.
Forget what people say about Iowa being flat. They had hills. They were just long sloping hills that caught up with you. But it was beautiful, and the quiet in the air was rejuvenating. I remembered the day before and how the corn had sounded in the breeze. It had scared me then with its angry brushing of drying stalks. But it seemed different here somehow. Melodic as they rustled in the soft breeze, and the occasional birdsong offered one a chance to reflect. Perhaps it was because this corn was still green, at its peak. It had the feeling of life and hope as it swayed, whereas the corn yesterday was screaming its last death cry.
The quiet here was peaceful and calming.
We were nearing the top of the hill when Fannie finally spoke.
"This is my favorite time of year, when the harvest is nearing, but the freshness of spring is not quite forgotten. To see the occasional sweet pea flowering amongst the corn. Smelling the earth after the rain. You can feel God's hand at this moment, I believe," she said, letting her eyes close for a moment at the top of the hill to take it all in.
"Does Jonah tend to the fields as well? He told me he was the healer. How do you tend the fields if he is healing?" I asked, pinching my lips together on instinct that I had overstepped once more.
She opened her eyes and laughed at my expression, hugging me close to her as she started down the slope.
"You look abashed when you ask your questions, Katherine! We are not a secret society. Please ask your questions. We are happy to tell those that are curious of our way of life. Knowledge is power, and only by educating can there be tolerance and understanding," she said.
I hugged the milk pitcher to me a little tighter and let out a breath.
"I just don't want to offend, or break any rules. You've all been so kind to take me in. Thank you for that," I said and smiled when she leaned in to offer me another hug.
"It is our way. Please, ask your questions. If it is something we cannot speak of, I will tell you. And maybe, when you are ready, you might offer insight into your world and your life," she replied and we continued on our path towards the house at the bottom of the hill. Abigail had made it to the porch steps, fidgeting as she sat to wait for us.
I was quiet for a moment as I reflected on her comment, wondering what I would be able to tell them of my life. It seemed so sordid compared to how they lived. I was surprised they had not questioned me already regarding the flight from my world. They were a very patient people.
Simple, patient, and loving.
The amorous display between Fannie and Jonah played in my head once more.
"How long have you and Jonah been married?" I asked, wanting to understand how their love seemed so fresh and genuine whereas my parents had been at one another’s throats since I was in grade school.
"We were wed the autumn of my eighteenth year. Jonah courted me for six months before that. I was the reason he became a healer," she said with a blissful look in her eye.
"Why is that?"
"He resurrected me, just as Lazarus. I fell into a ravine near Bloomfield, slipping on the edge. He slid in after me and carried me to safety. He did not even know me. My family was from the neighboring community. When he could not find my breath, he breathed his own into me. I awoke shortly after with a broken arm he had splinted and cuts that he had bandaged. But his breath flowed in me and I knew then that he was to be my husband," she said, smiling into the sun as if recalling the memory.
"That's beautiful," I murmured, taken by the love she held for Jonah just in her tone as she recited their story. I let my thoughts wander at the idea of ever finding that sort of love.
It seemed too good to be true.
No one fell in love at first sight.
We were nearing the side of the house, a two-story white structure that stood sharply against the blue sky. It was large, like something a family of ten could live in comfortably. But the yard and garden surrounding it looked untended, the vegetables falling off the vines to rot on the ground, the green leaves wilting from lack of water. I heard Fannie sigh in dismay as she climbed the steps to the porch.
"Nathan needs to ask for help. He cannot tend his home alone. He is so proud, it will be his ruin," she murmured, low enough I assumed she had not wanted me to hear.
"Where is his family?" I asked, looking around and noticing the neglect around the home a little more. The porch had a worn path of dirt leading to the door, the windows glazed with a thin film of grime. There was a deep sense of abandonment surrounding the home. It was far too quie
t for a large family the house suggested to living there.
“He is alone, Katherine,” Abigail said, her tone much more somber than I had heard from her since meeting her.
Fannie sighed again and stroked her daughter’s cheek distractedly.
"His mother and father died last winter, as well as his brother and sisters. The flu took them this past winter," she replied and turned to knock on his door.
“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.
Healing Faith Page 3