When Socks tried to nibble his beard, he drew back abruptly, uncertain of her intentions. “I have orders not to scare you.”
Socks hummed softly and didn’t spit.
So far, so good.
Reaching out, Adrian scratched behind her ear as he’d seen Faith do. Socks closed her eyes and nuzzled into his hand. Her thick wool was as soft as anything he’d ever touched. He smiled at the sound of her hum. They might be odd-looking creatures, but they had a certain appeal. When they weren’t spitting.
He ran a hand down her camel-like neck. She stood, patient and unconcerned. With his confidence in her temperament restored, he gave free rein to his curiosity. He wanted a closer look at her strange feet.
As soon as he grasped her leg, Socks lifted her foot as any well-trained horse would do. To his surprise, the bottoms of her feet were soft pads much like a dog’s foot, not a hoof at all.
Straightening, he stroked her nose and chuckled. “It appears the Lord assembled you from leftover animal parts.”
Socks looked past him and called softly. He turned and saw another alpaca, this one black as night, emerge and look in his direction. Should he call out to Faith or would that scare the animal?
It looked more curious than frightened. He gave a gentle tug on the lead rope and walked with Socks toward her friend. He made a soft humming sound, hoping to soothe the animal and not frighten it into running away. Was he going to help Faith, or was he about to make things worse?
Tired, hot and discouraged, Faith emerged from the forest of corn thirty minutes later with only two of her alpacas in tow. The sun was touching the horizon. It would be dark within the hour. How would she find the others then? She would need dozens of people to comb this acreage properly in the dark.
It seemed she was destined to meet more of her neighbors tonight and not under the best of circumstances.
She had no doubt they would come to help. That was the Amish way. She would not be prideful. She would ask Adrian Lapp to gather a group to help in her search.
To her surprise, Adrian wasn’t where she had left him. She glanced around, wondering if she had come out of the corn in the wrong place. No, this was the spot. Had he gone back to his own work? What kind of neighbor was he, anyway?
“I shouldn’t be judgmental. Perhaps his work is as pressing as mine.” As usual, Myrtle proved to be a good listener and followed obediently behind Faith.
“All I have to do is round up my missing animals, start a business and ready a dilapidated house to pass inspection in a week’s time so I may become the guardian of my brother’s child. I’m sure Mr. Lapp is equally as busy.”
Tears pricked the backs of Faith’s eyes as she struggled through the long grass. The past two years had been incredibly hard. First, there had been the terrible crash and her husband’s death. She’d spent weeks in the hospital afterwards. Her small savings had covered only a fraction of her medical bills. Thankfully, the congregation at her church had taken up a collection to pay the rest, but it left her little to live on. It had taken her more than a year to get back on solid financial ground.
Then, three months ago came word that her brother and his wife had been killed in a flash flood, leaving their five-year-old son an orphan. As the boy’s only relative, she was willing and eager to take Kyle in. She’d been halfway through the maze of paperwork and home studies needed to approve his adoption when her landlord had informed her he had to sell the farm she’d been renting.
Her adoption plans fell apart. She couldn’t take in a child when she was about to lose the roof over her head.
But in the midst of her despair, the Lord had delivered what seemed like a miracle. A delinquent property tax statement had arrived in the mail addressed to her husband. It was then that she’d learned she owned a house and farm in Ohio. She’d spent every penny she could scrape together to pay the bill and move.
She hadn’t expected to find the place in such deplorable condition.
Was this God’s way of telling her Kyle didn’t belong with her? Did He want Isaac’s child raised in the English world her brother had chosen instead of in her Amish faith?
Why would God see fit to give Isaac’s child into her care when He had denied her children of her own?
She had no answers to the questions and doubts that plagued her. It would be all too easy to sit down and bawl like a baby, but what would that fix? She sniffed back her tears and blinked hard, refusing to let them fall.
Tears hadn’t made her husband a kind man. They wouldn’t bring back her brother or undo any of the pain she had endured. They certainly wouldn’t build fences for her alpacas, clean her house or make it a home for a lonely little boy.
She stopped to rest her aching leg and looked heavenward. “I know You never give us more than we can bear, but I could use Your strength right now. Help me, Lord. I beseech You.”
As always, she felt the comfort of God’s presence in her life whenever she turned to Him. She must not let her despair or her fears gain the upper hand. God was watching over her.
Had not the letter come in her hour of need telling her she owned this land? So what if it was going to take hard work to make it livable? She knew how to work. God would provide. She had faith in His mercy. Here in Ohio she had started Kyle’s adoption process again. Now she had to prove to a new agency worker that she had a safe home and a stable income.
Which was exactly what she didn’t have yet.
Drawing a deep breath, she started forward again. The time for tears was past. This was the new path the Lord had chosen for her. She had to believe it would be better than the life she’d left behind.
Chapter Two
When Faith emerged from the trees, she stopped short in surprise. Adrian Lapp stood beside her barn with all eight of her missing alpacas clustered around him in their pen. It seemed her prayers had been answered, and apparently her grumpy neighbor had a way with animals.
Not two minutes ago she had been piling unkind thoughts on his head.
Forgive me, Lord. I judged this man unfairly. I won’t do it again.
Walking up to Adrian, she said, “I can’t believe it. You found them.”
“It was more like they found me.”
Bandit stood close beside him, sniffing at his beard. He gently pushed the inquisitive black alpaca away and opened the gate so Faith could add her two to the herd. Adrian said, “I fixed the pen. They shouldn’t get out again.”
“Thank you. I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find them before dark. This move has been hard on all of them.”
“And on you?”
Her gaze locked with his. Did she look like such a mess? She must. Embarrassment sent heat flooding to her face. Socks chose that moment to nibble at the rim of Adrian’s straw hat. He pushed the alpaca gently aside. Faith concentrated on removing the halters from her pair.
“Where have you come from, Faith Martin? Surely not South America like your animals.”
His interest seemed genuine. Some of her discomfort faded. “Originally, I’m from Indiana, but on this move I came from Missouri.”
“That’s a lot of miles.”
It was, and many more than he knew. Her husband had been affected with a wanderlust that had taken them to twelve different communities in the ten years they’d been married. Faith was determined that this farm would be her final home. She wanted to put down roots, to become a true member of a community, things she’d never been able to do during her marriage.
Besides, she had to make a home for Kyle. A place where her brother’s child could recover from the tragedy of losing his parents and grow into manhood. This was her last move. If it was God’s will, she didn’t plan to leave Hope Springs, Ohio until He called her home.
“I’m grateful for your help, neighbor. I have fresh lemonade in the house. Can I offer you a glass?”
He opened the gate and slipped out, securing the panels with a quick twist of heavy wire, then double checking it to make sure it would hold
. “Nee. I must get back to my work.”
With her overture of friendship soundly rejected, she nodded and started toward the house.
He hesitated, then fell into step beside her. “What are your plans for this place?”
Oddly pleased by his interest, she said, “I want to enclose the orchard area with new fence. In the future I will divide it into separate pens so I can rotate where the alpacas graze. In spite of their behavior today, the fencing is really to keep predators out. My babies won’t try to wander once they become accustomed to their new home. After that, I need to fix up the barn well enough to store winter hay for them.” She walked slowly, more tired than she cared to admit.
“So my beans will be safe in the future?”
He hadn’t really been interested in her plans, only in making sure his crops wouldn’t be destroyed.
“Ja, as soon as I have the fences up. Of course, I will pay for any damages my animals caused.”
“That won’t be necessary. Do you plan to do all this work yourself?”
Faith paused and drew herself to her full height of five-foot-one. “I’m stronger than I look. I’m not afraid of hard work. With God’s help I shall manage.”
His eyes grew troubled. “I was going to offer the names of some young men who could use the work. That is why I asked. I did not mean to offend.”
He had a gruff manner, but he was clearly sorry to have upset her.
Her defiance drained away, leaving her embarrassed. “I don’t have the money to pay a hired man. Once I sell the yarns I am spinning, I will consider hiring someone.”
“A light purse is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“You’re right, but I don’t want people here to think I will be a burden on them.”
“We would not think such a thing, Faith Martin. It would be un-Christian.” There was a hint of rebuke in his words.
Amish families and communities supported all Amish widows and orphans. It was everyone’s responsibility to care for them, but Faith needed to be able to take care of herself.
At her age and with her disability, she had no hope of marrying again. Even if such an offer came her way, she would never place her fate in the hands of another man. No, never again. The thought of doing so sent cold chills down her spine.
She looked up to see Adrian studying her intently. His frown had returned, but she wasn’t frightened by it now. It was more bluff than substance.
He said, “If you find this farm is more than you can handle, I’ll be happy to take it off your hands. For a fair price.”
“I’m not interested in selling. I plan on staying here a long, long time.”
“Then I pray you fare well among us, but do not forget my offer.”
Faith watched as he strode away with long, easy strides. She saw a man at ease in his surroundings and at home on his own well-tended land. Not overly friendly, but not unfriendly. She found him…interesting. If his spouse was pleasant, they might prove to be good neighbors. She liked the idea of having someone close by to count on in an emergency.
She had turned down his offer to buy the place, but she sensed he didn’t believe she could make a go of it on her own.
Why shouldn’t he doubt her? She doubted herself. For years Mose had hammered into her head what a failure she was as a wife. She couldn’t give him children. It was her fault all his business enterprises failed because she didn’t work hard enough.
In her heart she knew he was wrong, but after a while it ceased to matter. She had simply accepted the unkind things he’d said and kept quiet.
But Mose was gone now, and she had to believe in herself again. This was the time and place to start.
Watching Adrian cross the field toward his farm, she wondered what it would be like to have a strong, handsome man like Adrian Lapp for a husband? She shook her head at her foolish musing.
A woman could not tell if a man would be a good husband by his looks. Mose had been a handsome fellow, but his good-looking face had hidden a mean nature at odds with the teachings of their Amish faith.
She forgave Mose for the good of her own soul. He was standing now before a just God, answering for his sins while she was free to live a quiet and humble life. It would be enough.
She wondered if other Amish wives suffered silently as she had done. She prayed it wasn’t true. In her heart she wanted to believe in the gentle nature of men who professed submission to God in every aspect of their lives—but there was no way to be certain. Only God could see into the hearts of men.
Pushing aside the host of unhappy memories gathered during her marriage, Faith entered her new home determined to finish sweeping away years of debris and clutter, from the house and from her heart. She was ready for her new beginning.
“I heard someone has moved into the old Delker place. Do you know anything about it?” Ben Lapp handed the next set of boards up to Adrian who was perched on the top of the new corncrib.
Adrian knew there would be no end to his brother’s curiosity. He might as well tell him everything he knew. “Ja, I met her yesterday. Her name is Faith Martin. She is Amish and a widow.”
“I don’t suppose she has a pretty daughter or two?” Ben asked hopefully. At seventeen, Adrian’s youngest brother was in the first year of his rumspringa, his running around time, and always on the lookout for new girls to impress.
Adrian hated to dash his hopes. “Sorry, but she said she was alone.”
“Too bad. A pretty new face would be welcome in this area.”
Adrian recalled Faith’s soft blue eyes and the sweet curve of her lips. “She is pretty enough.”
“Really?”
Adrian caught the sudden interest in Ben’s tone and grinned. “Pretty enough for a woman in her thirties.”
Ben’s face fell. “She’s an old woman, then.”
“Do you consider me old? I’m but thirty-two.”
Adrian tried not to smile as he watched the struggle taking place behind his baby brother’s eyes. Finally, Ben said, “You’re not so old.”
“Not so old. That’s good to know for I was thinking of getting a cane when I went to market.”
The thought of a cane brought a sudden vision of Faith struggling through the long grass with her crutch. How was she doing today? And why was he thinking about her again?
Ben grinned. “Tell me more about the widow. What’s she like?”
Determined, pretty, kind to her animals, wary, worried. A number of ways to describe his new neighbor darted through Adrian’s mind, but they all sounded personal, as if he’d taken an interest in her. “She raises alpacas.”
“Alpacas? Why?”
“She spins their fleece into yarn for sale.”
“I remember grandmother Lapp sitting at her spinning wheel. It was fascinating to watch her nimble fingers at work even when she was very old.”
“I remember that, too.”
“I never understood how chunks of wool became strands of yarn. Whatever became of her spinning wheel?”
“I suppose it’s in Mamm’s attic if one of our sisters doesn’t have it.”
“It’s sad to think someone is living at the Delker farm now.”
“Why do you say that?” Adrian hammered the last board in place.
“Because we could eat all the peaches we wanted from those trees. No one cared. Now, we’ll have to get permission. Is the house still in decent shape?”
“From the outside it doesn’t look too bad. I’m not sure about the inside.” Maybe he should stop in again and see if there was something Faith needed done around the place. That would be neighborly.
Not that he was looking for an excuse to see her again. He wasn’t. He grew annoyed that she kept intruding into his carefully ordered world.
Ben backed down the ladder. “Do you even remember the people who lived there before?”
Adrian followed him. “I remember an old Englisch woman yelling at our cousin Sarah and I when we were helping ourselves to some low-hanging fruit. I
must have been ten. She scared the daylights out of us. I think she went to a nursing home not long after that. When she passed away, the place stayed vacant.”
“Is the new owner a relative?”
“That I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you try to buy the place a few years ago?”
“More than once. I got a name and address from the County Recorder’s office and sent several letters over the years, but no one ever answered me. I even tried to buy it from her yesterday, but she wasn’t interested in selling.” He could still hear the determination in her voice when she turned him down.
Determination was one thing. A strong back was another. She’d need both to get that place in working order.
“It’s odd that she’d show up after all this time. I wonder why?” Ben mused.
Gathering together his tools, Adrian started toward the house. He’d spent more than enough time thinking about Faith Martin. “It’s none of our business.”
“Not our business? Ha! Tell that to Mamm. She’ll be wanting every little detail, and she’ll have it by Sunday next or I’ll eat my hat.” Ben fell into step beside Adrian.
It irked Adrian that he couldn’t get Faith off his mind. What was she doing? Were her alpacas safe? Was she having trouble putting up fences for them? It would be a big job for one woman alone.
Ben wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What’s that smell?”
Adrian swiped at the shoulder of his vest. The dried juice had brushed off, but not the aroma. “Alpaca spit.”
“That’s nasty. I didn’t know they spit.”
“Only if you scare them.”
“I’ll avoid doing that.”
“Me, too, from now on.”
“Before I forget, Mamm wanted me to remind you to come to supper tomorrow night.”
Alerted by the sudden uncomfortable tone in Ben’s voice, Adrian stopped. “Why would I need reminding? I come to supper every Wednesday evening with the family.”
“That’s what I told her.”
Adrian closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Who is it this time?”
“Who is what?” Ben looked the picture of innocence. Adrian wasn’t fooled.
The Farmer Next Door Page 2