“I do not have such documents.”
Miss Watkins frowned. “You don’t have a Social Security card?”
“I do not. The Amish do not believe in Social Security. It is the responsibility of everyone to care for the sick and elderly. We do not depend upon the government to do that for us. I do have my birth certificate and my marriage license, if that will do?”
Faith rose from the chair and crossed to the small bookcase in the corner. She opened her Bible and took out several pieces of paper and handed them to the social worker.
“Under the circumstances, I think these will be fine. Today, I’d like to gather some information about your background, family life, child care expectations and about your parenting philosophy. I know you must be frustrated at having to repeat some of this process since you began your adoption in Missouri, but now that you are in Ohio, you will have to abide by Ohio law.”
“I understand my move came at a bad time, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“I will do what I can to expedite your home study. A few things won’t have to be repeated. Your background check and criminal search records have been forwarded to us by the Missouri authorities.”
“I only wish to have Kyle with me as soon as possible. He has been with strangers for two months.”
Miss Watkins opened a folder. “Kyle King is in foster care in Texas, is that right?”
Faith nodded.
“And you’ve not been to visit him, is that correct?”
“I’ve spoken to him on the phone several times and written letters to him twice a week, every week, but I’ve been unable to travel to Texas.” It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do for now.
“I will admit I know very little about the Amish, so please forgive my ignorance. You are the first Amish client I’ve worked with. I understand you do not use electricity.”
“We do not.”
“And you have no phone and no car.”
“There is a phone shack at the end of the lane that I and my Amish neighbors may use. It is permitted for work and for emergencies. I have a horse and buggy for ordinary travel, but I may hire a driver if I must travel a long distance.”
“I’ll make a note of that. After our interview, I’ll make a brief safety inspection of your home. Typically, this first visit lasts from three to four hours.
“Four hours?” Faith thought of all the work that she had waiting for her.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Nee, of course not.”
“If I can’t gather all I need today I will schedule a follow-up visit. I don’t see a statement from your doctor. Did you receive the paperwork we sent you?”
“I haven’t had a chance to schedule an appointment.”
Miss Watkins frowned. “Ohio law is very clear on this. In order to adopt a child, you must be in good health.”
“I am. My limp is the result of an accident, not an illness. I’ll take care of it this week.” A doctor’s visit was another expense Faith didn’t need. The money from her yarn sales wouldn’t go far.
“All right. Let’s get started. Are there any other adults or children living in this home?”
“Nee.”
“Do you have adequate room to house a child?”
“Ja, this house has four bedrooms upstairs, although I don’t yet have a bed for Kyle.”
Miss Watkins jotted down some notes. “I will have to see all the accommodations prior to his arrival. Do you suffer from any physical or mental illnesses?”
“Only the limp you see.”
“What is the reason for your disability?”
“I was injured when a pickup struck our buggy. My husband was killed.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It was God’s will.” Faith couldn’t pretend there was sorrow in her heart, for there was none. Only relief and guilt for not loving Mose as a wife should.
“Do you have a history of alcohol, drug or substance abuse, even if it did not result in an arrest?”
“Nee.”
“Do you have a history of child abuse, even if it was not reported?”
“Nee.”
“Do you have a history of domestic violence, even if it did not result in an arrest or conviction?”
Faith’s heart jumped to her throat. Would Mose reach out from the grave and snatch away her only chance to raise a child? She couldn’t let that happen.
Never again would she place herself, or Kyle, in such a situation. She answered carefully for she didn’t want to lie. “I have never abused anyone nor have I been accused of such behavior.”
“Have you ever been rejected for adoption or foster care?”
Faith relaxed. “I have not.”
For the next several hours, Faith answered all the questions put to her. Finally, Miss Watkins said, “Why don’t we take a break and you can show me the house.”
“Of course. I have only recently moved in. There is still much work to be done.”
“I understand. Let’s start with the kitchen.”
Faith led the way. Miss Watkins made notes as she walked. To Faith, it seemed that she took note of every flaw, every uneven floorboard and even the stains on the wall behind the stove. The house might not be perfect, but it was a roof over her head.
In the kitchen, Miss Watkins went straight to the refrigerator and opened the door. The shelves were bare except for a few staples—butter, eggs and some bacon. She turned to Faith. “You don’t have much in the way of food here.”
“I have only myself to cook for. I don’t need much.”
“Will feeding a growing boy be difficult for you?”
“Not at all. Come. I will show you the cellar.” Faith took a lamp from inside the cupboard and lit the wick. Opening a door at the back of kitchen, Faith descended the steps, cautioning Miss Watkins to use the handrail.
Down in the cool, damp cellar, Faith raised her lamp to show shelves full of canned fruits, vegetables and meats. It had taken her two solid days to clean out the cellar, repair the shelves and stock them. “I brought most of this with me from my previous home in Missouri. Some of my new neighbors have brought more as gifts.”
“Impressive. Can we go back upstairs now?”
Clearly, Miss Watkins didn’t care to remain in a small dark space. She frowned as she eyed the lamp Faith held. “I have some concern about the use of kerosene lamps around a small child.”
“Amish children are all taught how to use lamps safely.”
“Open flames are very dangerous. You will have to provide an alternate source of light.”
“Would battery-powered lights be acceptable?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I shall purchase some.” Faith smiled. More expenses.
After leaving the cellar, Faith gave the social worker a tour of the yard and outbuildings. Once again, Miss Watkins was scribbling furiously in her notebook. The alpaca herd came to the fence to observe the newcomer. Faith assured the social worker that they were not dangerous animals, but she gave Myrtle a wide berth. The rest of the herd remained well behaved, much to her relief.
Back in the house, Miss Watkins gathered together her papers. She closed her briefcase and handed Faith two additional pieces of paper. “I think that will do it for today. As far as paperwork goes, you will need to complete the health summary and you will need to have a fire safety inspection.”
Was that a free service or was it something else she would have to pay for?
Miss Watkins held out her hand. “I will be back the same time next week. Hopefully, you will have everything completed by then.”
Twisting her hands together, Faith asked, “What if I don’t?”
“If there are deficiencies, it does not automatically mean you can’t adopt your nephew. It simply means that these are things we will have to work on.”
As Faith watched the social worker drive away, she had no idea if she had passed inspection or not.
Why should they feel s
he deserved a child if God had not seen fit to answer her prayers for one? Simply because she was Kyle’s aunt didn’t mean she was the best person to raise him.
Glancing toward the orchard, she wondered if Adrian was still working out there or if he had gone home. An intense need to see him took hold of her.
Faith let herself through the gate behind the barn. Only Socks was grazing near the building. The rest of the herd had disappeared. Lifting her head, Socks ambled slowly in Faith’s direction. When she reached Faith, she stopped and rubbed her head against Faith’s side.
“What are you doing here all by yourself? Where is the rest of the herd?” Faith peered into the trees but couldn’t see the animals. Giving Socks a quick pat, Faith headed deeper into the orchard.
She hadn’t gone far when she spotted the rest of the group. They were clustered around a single tree and all gazing upward. A ladder stood propped against the trunk. She could just make out Adrian’s legs halfway up the rungs.
She was startled when he called out, “How did it go?”
“I wish I knew.”
A large, dead branch came crashing to the ground, sending the alpacas dashing in circles before they clustered again beside the ladder. Adrian descended from the tree. “How soon will you know if your nephew can live with you?”
“For all the hurry, hurry, hurry in Englisch lives, their child placement process moves slowly. If all goes well, it may be two or three weeks.”
“Where is he until then?”
“In a foster home.”
“I’m sure they are taking good care of him.”
“I pray so.”
If the Englisch woman didn’t find Faith acceptable, what would happen to Kyle? Was there someone else waiting and longing to adopt a child the way she was? Perhaps they deserved him more than she did.
She looked at Adrian. “Am I doing the right thing trying to bring an Englisch child here?”
“Why would you ask that?”
She crossed her arms and hugged herself as if she were cold. “Because in all the years I was married, God never saw fit to give me a child of my own.”
Adrian heard the pain in Faith’s voice. He saw the disappointment and loss in her eyes. He wanted to take her pain away, but he didn’t know how. “Will you love this child?”
“I will.”
“Then you are doing the right thing.”
“If only I could be so sure. I must put my trust in God.” He said, “And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, LORD, hast not forsaken them that seek thee. Psalm 9:10.”
“You are so very right. He has not forsaken me.”
Adrian wasn’t sure why that particular Bible verse popped into his head. God had turned away from him. He had been forsaken. Faith, too, had suffered a great loss, and yet she still drew comfort and hope from God’s word.
Why was her faith so strong when his was so weak?
Chapter Seven
On Sunday morning, Faith turned Copper off the highway and onto a farm lane two miles north of her home. At the edge of the road a homemade white sign with a black anvil painted on it said, “Horse Shoeing. Closed Wednesdays.”
The church service was being held at the farm of Eli Imhoff, the local blacksmith, and the generous neighbor who, along with his sons, had painted the outside of her house.
Overhead, low gray clouds scuttled northward. The overcast sky was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the past few days, but the clouds were hanging on to any rain they held. Hopefully, any showers would remain at bay until after she was back home again.
At the other end of the long lane, Faith saw a two-story white house with a smaller dawdy haus built at a right angle from the main home. Both the grandfather house and the main house had pretty porches with white railings and wide steps. Three large birdhouses sat atop poles around the yard ringed with flower beds. Someday, her home would look like this.
Across an expanse of grass now crowded with buggies and groups of churchgoers stood a big red barn. In the corral, a pair of caramel-colored draft horses shared round hay bales with several dozen smaller horses. Copper whinnied a greeting. Several horses in the corral replied in kind.
A man came forward to take the reins from Faith. He tipped his black hat. “Good morning, Frau. I am Jonathan Dressler. I will take care of your horse.” Although he looked Amish, he spoke in flawless English without a hint of the Pennsylvania Dutch accent she was accustomed to hearing.
“Danki, Jonathan.” Faith stepped down from her vehicle and smoothed her skirt. Her stomach churned with nervous butterflies. More anxious than she cared to admit, she pulled a picnic hamper from beneath the front seat and stood rooted to the spot.
He pointed toward the farmhouse. “You may take your basket to the house. Karen Imhoff is in charge of the food today. It’s nice to meet another newcomer to the community. Thanks to you, I’m no longer the new kid on the block.”
“You are new here, too?”
“Yes. I guess I should say, ja.”
“You are Englisch, yet you dress plain.”
“God has called me to live this simple life. Every day I give thanks that He led me to this place.”
The smile on his handsome face was contagious. She asked, “Have you any advice to share with this newcomer?”
“The people of Hope Springs are wonderful, welcoming souls.”
As they were speaking, another horse and buggy came trotting into the yard. She recognized Adrian at the reins. With him were an older man and woman, two younger women in their early twenties, and a teenage boy.
Jonathan said, “I best get back to work, but I have to ask you one question. Did your alpaca really spit on the bishop’s wife?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Has everyone heard of this?”
Jonathan chuckled. “It is not kind of me to say, but your alpaca sounds like a wonderful judge of character.”
He laughed again as he unhitched Copper and led her to the corral.
Faith’s heart sank to a new low. She would have to attend services several times in this church district before the congregation would be asked to accept her. Neither the bishop nor his wife was likely to want a new member who’d made Mrs. Zook a laughingstock.
Faith looked toward the house and saw the women from Adrian’s buggy join a large group of women gathered on the porch. She recognized the bishop’s wife standing among them. All eyes were turned in her direction.
She wanted to run home and hide.
“If I were you, I’d go in with my head up and smile as if nothing were wrong.”
Faith glanced over her shoulder and saw Adrian unhooking his horse from the buggy. He wasn’t looking at her, but she knew he was talking to her. There was no one else around.
He patted his horse’s flank and spoke again, just as softly. “She will appear mean and petty if she snubs you when you are offering friendship, but if she senses fear, she won’t have any trouble ignoring you. The other women will follow her lead.”
“I should walk up to her and pretend my animal didn’t spit in her face, is that what you suggest?”
“You have already apologized for that, haven’t you?”
“More than once.”
“Then it’s over. Go, before they start to think you’re naerfich.”
She was nervous. But he was right, bless the man. His encouragement was exactly what she needed. Raising her chin, Faith limped forward and pasted a smile on her face.
As she approached the house, she nodded to Mrs. Zook. “Good morning. The Lord has blessed us with a fine morning, has He not? I look forward to hearing your husband’s preaching for I hear God has graced him with a wonderful understanding of the Bible.”
Mrs. Zook’s smile wasn’t overly warm, but at least she didn’t cut Faith dead. She inclined her head slightly. “My husband speaks as God moves him. Joseph takes no credit for himself.”
“That is as it should be. Where shall I put this?” Faith patted her ba
sket, glad her voice wasn’t shaking for her fingers were ice cold.
A second woman spoke up. “Inside. Karen Imhoff will show you where she wants things.”
Faith nodded her thanks, pulled open the front door and went inside with a huge sigh of relief. Behind her she heard the women’s lowered voices begin to buzz. She knew they were discussing her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Inside the kitchen, Faith was thrilled to see Nettie, Sarah and Katie at work arranging the food on the counters and long tables set up against the walls. Everything appeared ready for the meal the congregation would share after the service was finished.
A tall, slender woman came in from a back room with a box of glasses. She added them to the table where the plates were stacked. Her eyes lit with mischief when she spied Faith. She said, “Hello. I’m Karen Imhoff. You must be Faith Martin. I have been hearing so much about you.”
Faith gave a quick glance around the room and saw Sarah and Katie trying to hide their grins. She looked back at Karen. “Ja, I am the one with the spitting alpaca.”
Sarah and Katie dissolved into giggles. Nettie gave them both a stern look. The young women quickly pulled themselves together.
Karen said, “I hope you enjoy the service today. We are always glad to see new faces.”
The front door opened and Jonathan stuck his head in. He said, “Everyone is here now.”
Faith noticed the way his gaze rested on Karen. There was a softness in his eyes that bespoke great affection.
“Danki, Jonathan,” Karen replied. “We will be there shortly.” There was no mistaking the love that flowed between them.
What would it be like, Faith wondered, to love wholeheartedly and be loved in return?
Jonathan started to close the door but stopped as a little girl of about nine slipped beneath his arm and into the kitchen.
After he closed the door, Faith said, “Jonathan is a most unusual young man. I have never known an Englisch person to join our faith.”
Smiling fondly, Katie folded her hands atop her bulging tummy. “You should have Karen tell you the whole story of how Jonathan came to be with us. It is the most romantic tale.”
“I should tell it. I saw him first,” the little girl declared. She was the spitting image of Karen and clearly not shy.
The Farmer Next Door Page 7