Healing Faith

by Jennyfer Browne

  I was not going to let Sean win. I wanted to show everyone I was strong, even if my dreams had made me whimper in the night. Dreams of Sean chasing after me, and tossing Nathan into the dumpster so that it was Nathan on the alley ground and not Sean. If Emma or Abigail had heard, they remained quiet about it when I awoke. Emma and I started our chores with little encouragement from Jonah.

  I was getting into the routine. I was learning. I even milked half dozen cows as opposed to leaving Emma to pick up the slack. Abigail met us outside the barn just as the sun was cracking over the horizon, her basket full of eggs from the hen house. She smiled at me and motioned towards the hill.

  Nathan's hill.

  And there as the first rays of sunlight licked at the hillside, I watched as Nathan made his way towards us, his signature black hat tipped back on his head and a smile on his face. He walked a little more slowly, and as he drew closer I noticed the cut along his cheek had purpled over night. But his eyes shone in the early morning light as he took one of the milk pails from my hand and followed us into the kitchen silently.

  We made quick work of breakfast, Fannie having prepared the ham and corn cakes while Emma and I had been in the barn. We settled into our usual seats, Nathan sitting across from me. Morning prayers said, I tried my best to avoid his eyes while we ate, but it seemed every time I looked his way, he was looking my way at the same moment.

  We had to be incredibly obvious to everyone else.

  As if to confirm my suspicion, Jonah cleared his throat and stood from the table to address the family.

  "Today is a day of reflection. We have chores to do so that we may relax this afternoon and thank God for what we have. Nathan? I believe we have a meeting of the Elders before midday? Let us go while Fannie and the girls take care of things here. My wife," he said, smiling at his wife briefly before glancing around the table. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, a thoughtful purse to his lips before he stepped outside to wait for Nathan. Nathan excused himself hurriedly, offering me a timid smile before grabbing his hat and following Jonah outside, leaving me to glance around the table at the women.

  "It is all right, Katherine," Fannie said. "They will speak with the Elders and we will have resolution on how best to keep you safe."

  I remained quiet throughout our clean up routine. I had a feeling Nathan and Jonah were walking into a heated discussion over me. I could still be asked to leave, and then any feelings I had for Nathan would be pointless. Fannie seemed unfazed by the men going to speak to the Elders, but Hannah watched me curiously as we worked. I felt an instant of fear when she asked me to join her in the sewing room.

  Emma raised her eyebrow but dutifully followed Fannie out to the garden to gather vegetables for the afternoon meal while I made my way behind Hannah to the front room of the house. Hannah opened the windows to let in a breeze and settled in on the bench seat by the window, motioning me to share it with her as she pulled out one of the dresses I had first worn. She was quiet as she sorted through her needles and spools of thread, finding finally the same color as the dress and turning to smile carefully. Regardless of Hannah's sudden warming to me, seeing her smile still frightened me. She was like a tiger ready to pounce as she sat there, poised perfectly with her hand working the thread through the fabric neatly.

  "I found great joy making these dresses when I came of age," she said after several moments of silence. "It is good that they can be used. Emma will never grow into them and Abigail has years to go yet."

  I watched her as she worked, unsure of what to say. Another few minutes of silence and then she spoke again.

  "Of course I had high hopes that I would pass these to my sisters. I suppose the sickness is what made Emma so small. She was frail for so long. And a bit dramatic if I must admit. She has a good loving man in John Wittmer. I can only hope she has not passed it by," she murmured as she handed me the needle and thread and the half hemmed skirt.

  "I don't know what to do," I stammered, feeling odd with the dress in my hands.

  "Follow my stitching there. I have pinned it for you. Just follow the line. You will get better with practice. It is how we all learn, by doing. Abigail is already quite good at needlework and she is only ten," she replied and pulled out another dress from the pile beside her.

  We sat in uncomfortable silence as I stitched, following her straight line with one of my own that wavered slightly. My wrists began to ache as I worked, my stitching slower until I finally had to stop and rotate my hands to relieve the ache. She paused in her sewing to glance down at the purpled skin around my wrists.

  "Are you in pain?" she whispered, her face unreadable.

  I shook my head dismissively.

  "Not really, I'm just not used to this. You are much better at this than me," I replied, trying to offer a compliment in her awkward company.

  She nodded as if to agree and went back to sewing, glancing at my hands when they resumed the stitching.

  "The bruises will fade. Father says you were not broken. That is good. Broken bones and scars remind you of the nightmare," she murmured.

  I touched my forehead gently.

  "I don't think this will scar. Do you think it will scar?" I asked nervously.

  I had scars from Sean. No one had seen them, but Hannah was right. They made me remember. She eyed my forehead thoughtfully and shook her head.

  "No, Mother was sure to use the same balm she used on me. You will not scar.”

  She went back to her stitching.

  I paused my stitching to watch her as her words sunk in.

  The same balm she used on me.

  I watched as Hannah's stitches wavered, as she pulled them out purposefully and re-stitched.

  A slightly crooked line.

  A breath.

  Pulling the threads out.

  The silence became rather loud in the still room.

  Another breath.

  She tried again.

  "It was not Mark's fault, you understand," she said suddenly, her voice strangely distant.

  I remained still beside her as she worked, afraid to break her from this uncomfortable discussion. Afraid she would harden and be unwilling to let me in once more. She let out another breath and straightened a bit, shaking her head as she pulled out the threads once more on her dress.

  "There are many things that happen during Rumspringa. We do not discuss it for we are wiped clear of those sins when we accept our place here. I was stupid to step away from Mark that night. I am so very blessed that he found me. Regardless of what he thinks, I do not blame him for it," she continued.

  I swallowed and remained frozen beside her, praying now that she would simply return to her stitching and leave her story untold. Why was she telling me? I didn't want to know. I didn't want to learn of her scars.

  "The English boy was a friend of Mark's. They worked at the mill together. I knew him; he had always been nice to me. I did not think anything of it when he told me Mark had a surprise there for me. It was my birthday after all, and Mark was always offering me little gifts as tokens of his love for me. I thought maybe he had finished the rocker he had promised me as a betrothal gift. But it was not. He was not there as his friend had said," she whispered.

  I felt my heart hammering in my chest as I watched her. Hannah was as stoic and reserved as I imagined all the strong Amish women were. But I could see her trembling hands as she stitched and spoke. She struggled like anyone would. She struggled like I had so many times when I had tried to hide my injuries. Had tried to be strong. Hannah was still a woman who hurt.

  She took a long measured breath and clasped her hands together to still them, looking down at the un-hemmed dress.

  "Mark found me, that is what matters. If he had not, I would not be able to show you how to stitch, and I would not have met you. I was forgiven of my past the day I took my baptism. Bruises heal. Scars leave memories. I am sad for my scars. My husband will have to remember every time‚ every time," she stammered.

&
nbsp; "Hannah," I whispered, feeling helpless to offer any comfort.

  "I will be a good wife, regardless," she whispered and straightened and looked up at me, her eyes determined.

  I could only nod, fighting back the tears in my eyes. She would be upset if I cried for her. I didn't know Hannah well, but I knew she didn’t want pity. I knew I would not in her place. It seemed Hannah and I had much more in common that I would have ever realized. She was determined, just as I hoped to be. I hoped I could be a little like her, with her strength of will.

  Her faith.

  Her faith had healed her suffering.

  She nodded and turned back to her stitching, much straighter the fourth time around.

  I returned to my own stitching, unsure of what to say to Hannah, fearful that I would mess up the strange truce we had. Instead, she spoke again after I had completed my attempt at hemming my dress. She looked it over, laughter escaping her throat as she picked at my loose threads.

  "It is a good thing you are good in the kitchen, Katherine! With time you might be able to stitch something that will hold for a season. Let us hope I can learn to bake easier than you can sew! Otherwise Mark will starve!" she said brightly and rose to stretch.

  Just like that.

  Hannah was strong again, feisty and sure of herself. Hannah did not bring up her story again, and I did not ask. And she did not ask me about my bruises again. They did not discuss these things.

  That was the Amish way.

  I followed behind her as we made our way into the kitchen, back into the routine of preparing the midday and late meals for the day. I stood a little taller, shoved the pain of my injuries further back into my head while I worked.

  Because Hannah was the strongest woman I knew. I had so much to learn from these people if I expected to remain, if they'd let me. I glanced at the door, wondering what Nathan would say to the Elders on my behalf. And what he would tell me when he returned midday. I might not have a choice in staying.

  So I hid my pain and took a page out of Hannah's book.

  I'd hide my scars.

  I'd be strong.

  I’d have faith.

  I’d learn.

  Chapter 13

  "Katherine, come away from the door! They will be home soon. Do not worry," Fannie chided, causing me to blush and pull away from the door once more.

  "I was just checking to see if it was shady out by the garden yet," I replied lamely.

  "It is midday, Katherine," Hannah sighed, exasperated. "There is no shade."

  Emma chuckled by the table, glancing my way as Hannah burst into laughter.

  I sighed and busied myself with stirring the potato salad we had made earlier. It didn't really need stirring, but I needed a distraction. Jonah and Nathan had been gone for a few hours now.

  And my morning chores were done, as Nathan had asked.

  A thrill went through me at the idea of being able to sit and talk with him, finally.

  The decision of the Elders weighed on my mind, but the idea of him sitting next to me for the afternoon made everything pale in comparison.

  "They will be thirsty when they arrive, Katherine. Come help me finish the tea," Fannie said, taking pity on the over-stirred potatoes.

  Chores done, potato salad stirred, tea made and soon we were all growing antsy for them to return. Abigail came charging through the door when they finally crested the hill. Hannah let out another exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. I was finding her irritation endearing somehow now. I stepped into the flurry of activity to get the midday meal out and ready.

  I heard their footsteps and the murmurings of Jonah's voice before the door opened and he stepped in, followed by Nathan. Jonah smiled comfortably towards his wife, glancing my way before turning towards the sink to wash up. Nathan stepped in quietly, his eyes turned down towards his hat in his hands before he glanced up, the green of his eyes shining through his lashes. I held my breath, worried that his hesitation was confirmation that this could be my last meal here.

  And then he offered me that soft smile, creeping up from one side that made his eyes crinkle a bit. I let out my breath and smiled back, causing him to blush and fight the wider smile that tugged at his lips. Jonah's bright voice brought us out of our little moment.

  "Katherine, my newest daughter! The Elders have agreed to provide you refuge with us!" he exclaimed and moved towards me to hold me between his hands.

  He smiled softly and leaned in, kissing me softly on the forehead.

  "Welcome to our home, Katherine. You have nothing to fear here," he whispered and squeezed me gently between the shoulders.

  I didn't have much time to offer my thanks. Emma, as well as Abigail and Hannah, came running in to hug me. Following soon after Fannie hugged me tightly and refused to let me go. From the corner of my eye, Nathan was still smiling.

  Our meal was the most pleasant of any of our meals so far. I felt a lightness that I had not felt before, and as I looked on my newly adoptive family, I discovered how much I had missed in life with my estranged family. Hannah engaged Emma in lighter conversation and Jonah left his stoic nature at the door. The only quiet one at the table was Nathan, but it didn't mean he was unhappy. He smiled and laughed quietly at Abigail’s excitement at having another sister to have around, and glanced my way often, his eyes betraying the fact that he was happy to be sitting across the table from me.

  Nathan excused himself immediately after lunch, promising to return shortly. I watched as he left and felt the distance when he disappeared behind his hill. When we had finished cleaning up from the meal, Jonah and Fannie stepped out to the front of the house, his hand moving in discreetly to hold hers as they stepped outside. Emma dragged Abigail upstairs with a quick grin, knowing that somehow the youngest sister would want to eavesdrop. Hannah lingered in the kitchen with me, pretending to clean the table with a wet rag.

  "You should have something for him to drink when he returns," she said with a smirk on her face.

  I nodded and paced the side of the room.

  Why was I so nervous?

  I liked him, and he liked me. It was simple really.

  Except there were all these rules I didn't know.

  "What if I do something wrong?"

  She let out a noise that sounded like a snort and shook her head.

  "Katherine, I do not think you can do wrong with Nathan. He just went to stand up to the Elders for you. I think he is intent on making you his wife," she said and watched as my eyes widened at her words.

  His wife.

  I hadn't really thought much past simply having tea with him on the porch.

  And maybe kissing him.

  I had definitely thought of kissing him.

  But his wife?

  Why did that scare me? Surely I knew that was inevitable, right?

  I had never been excited about marriage before. Sean talking about it had made me sick to my stomach because it was a sentence with him, but the idea of Nathan talking about it with me left a different feeling in my stomach.

  "Katherine, you do not need to worry yourself. He is as nervous as you are. He does not know much about courting a girl. Just enjoy simple conversation," she chuckled and stepped up to me, halting my pacing.

  "Simple conversation, right," I said, nodding.

  Simple conversation about life. Farming, gardening, having babies.

  I flushed at the thought of babies with Nathan.

  If the first kiss disturbed him, I doubted he had given much thought to the mechanics of having children.

  I, on the other hand had thought a bit about that. Every time he looked at me through his thick lashes, every time he blushed and looked away. Every touch that sent a flush through me. He made me feel very different from how Sean had when he touched me.

  But then again, Sean's touch wasn't gentle or kind.

  Sean's touch was demanding. Forceful. Painful.

  "Katherine," Hannah said, breaking me from my intense thoughts.

 
"What do I talk about?" I asked.

  She laughed and stepped away to pour tea into two glasses.

  "What do you talk about in your world?" she asked.

  Sports, movies, where to go to eat. Unimportant things here.

  I was going to have a harder time than I thought.

  She turned and handed me the glasses of tea.

  "You will do fine. Tell him of yourself and he will do the same. That is what is expected. Now go, he comes. The swing is quiet on the porch. No one will hear you speak from there," she said and ventured upstairs, the smirk never leaving her face.

  I looked outside the back door and there, coming down the hill was Nathan. He looked flushed and I realized he must have run both ways, he had not been gone that long. Taking a big breath to calm my nerves, I pushed my way carefully out the back door and sat down in the swing, nervously watching him as he walked across the yard towards me.

  He slowed his gait when he saw me on the swing and looked around to see if anyone else was around. My heart sped up when I noticed his smile brighten as he stepped up onto the porch. Nathan took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair tentatively before stopping just in front of me. He looked down towards the floor and cleared his throat.

  He looked so nervous.

  "Um, do you want to sit?" I asked, my own nerves showing through my higher pitched voice.

  Nathan offered me that quivering lopsided smile I was learning was my favorite and sat carefully beside me, off to the side and leaving a rather large space between us.

  Placing his hat on his lap he sat there awkwardly for a moment, looking off towards the garden in front of us. His skin was still flushed from the heat of his walk, his forehead damp and marked red from the inside of his hat. And his hand tormented his hair as he repeatedly pushed it back off his temple.

  I couldn't tell which one of us was more nervous.

  It was kind of nice. I felt like we were on the same level somehow, both of us testing the water with no pressure to dominate the other.

  I liked that especially.

  He shifted in his seat and turned towards me slightly and cleared his throat again, watching him as he licked his lips and swallowed hard. It was then that I remembered I held two glasses of tea.