Healing Grace (9781621362982)

by Shriver, Beth

  “Afternoon.”

  Abby turned abruptly to see Mose. “Are you busy?” She glanced at the tool in his hand and the soot on his cheek.

  “Never too busy for you.” He stared at her for a moment then turned away as if he felt her discomfort at his words. It caught her unaware. Mose was anything but a charmer, but his words had flattered her, and she didn’t know how to respond.

  Abby touched her forehead to gather her thoughts. She was a little embarrassed having shown up at his place when he would be working.

  “How’s Ginger doing?”

  “She’s improving, thanks to you.” She looked up at him then, tempted to look into his eyes, but knowing better. “You should come and see her sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  The moment was awkward, and once again Abby was too distracted to remember why she’d decided to come. Abby scanned the area. “This farm seems larger than most others.”

  He hadn’t taken his eyes from her, and still didn’t as he talked to her, as if fixating on her every feature. “Just one that’s bigger, the Yoders’ place. You’ll drive by it on your way out.”

  “I’ll be sure and look for it.” She twined her fingers behind her back, deciding she couldn’t stand the tension any longer. “I had a reason to come here.”

  “You don’t need a reason.” He nodded to the blacksmith shop. “You said you wanted to see the shop.”

  She smiled and followed him into the building. Dust motes danced in the afternoon sun. The smell of grease and mist of hot water bit at her nose, and metal shavings glistened across the floor. “Have you been working in here?”

  “Jah, just finished fitting some horseshoes.” He showed her their antique tools and others that they’d made themselves. “That’s the gut thing about being a blacksmith. If you don’t like the tool, you change it and make your own.”

  When Mose smiled at her, a piece of her heart melted—a sensation with which she wasn’t familiar—but she instinctively pulled back her emotions. Her guard rose up to a level that made her feel safe again. His kindness was creating that feeling, and she didn’t know what to do with it. She wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “Your hat.”

  Mose turned to her and tilted his head to the side in question.

  “I have it. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but I keep forgetting.” A part of her didn’t want to give it to him. It gave her some sort of security. Why, she wasn’t sure, but now that she’d said it, she had to return it to him.

  “How did you end up with it?” When Mose smiled, she felt a little better about having had it so long. She should have known he wouldn’t be upset, but it was what she was accustomed to with her father.

  “That day of the accident. I found it on my way to the truck, and I’ve been holding on to it for you. It’s in my car. I’ll get it for you if you’d like.” She grinned as if to make light of it, but for some reason, it really wasn’t a lighthearted matter to her.

  Mose shrugged. “No need. My grandmother made me a new one.” He straightened, as if regretting saying the words. “She’s handy at wheat weaving.”

  “Your mamm?” she guessed. She was familiar with Pennsylvania Dutch but could understand it better than speak it.

  “Close…mammi.” His eyes lit up as if he enjoyed her attempt at using his language.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I can make sense of it in my head, but I don’t feel like I say the words right.”

  “That comes from being around it. The more you hear people talking, the better you’ll get a feel for it.” The way he said it, as if she was going to be among the Amish, made her realize that would be something she would like to do.

  “I have to know some German for my students.”

  Mose’s eyes narrowed in on her. “That’s right, you teach Amish children. Remember the land I showed you? They’re having a ground-breaking ceremony for the school later today, as a matter of fact.”

  “So, all of the Amish children will leave the schools in town?” She was disappointed to hear the news. She enjoyed teaching a variety of children with all different needs, and she appreciated the demeanor of the Amish students.

  “Jah, the city comes down pretty hard on us, making sure we’re following all the rules and whatnot.”

  “They’re making sure the children get the education they need.”

  “It’s more than that. There’s one guy from the state that comes around and checks up on us. He either doesn’t like his job, or maybe it’s just the Amish he doesn’t like.”

  She wondered whether it was the same guy who came to the school where she taught. Abby had heard him saying some comments regarding the Amish and how they shouldn’t be allowed to homeschool, didn’t pass code, had bad documentation, and so on, but she didn’t know how much was just him.

  “Hopefully that will all change soon, when the kids move to the community school.” She feared he’d be harder on them once they all left the public and Christian schools. She knew a few people who didn’t appreciate the Amish, and that inspector was one of them.

  Mose started for the door.

  “Where are we going?”

  He turned toward her. “To the ceremony.”

  “Is it okay if I join in?” She was right behind him, surprised that she was suddenly so excited to see some people throw dirt on top of more dirt and announce the building’s purpose.

  “Of course.” He waited for her and held the door open. “Follow me.”

  They took the buggy without the top on, which was more sun than Abby wanted, but she didn’t complain. When they got to the site, Abby was amazed at the turnout. It looked as if the entire community was there.

  Mose walked beside her, guiding her to a spot so she could see and greeting others as they made their way through different groups of people.

  “That’s Minister Miller.” Mose pointed to the tall, skinny man holding a shovel and a Bible.

  “It’s gut to see so many here. I promise I’ll get you home in time for supper.” Minister Miller choked out a rough chuckle. “The passion we have for our children is the driving force to build this school. We have leaned on Gott as to if this was His will, and through His provision our community has agreed to school our children here among us in a nurturing environment.”

  The women fanned themselves and the men wiped their brows. Abby appreciated the good behavior of the children, from babes to young adults. Everyone remained respectful and quiet as the minister spoke.

  “We will build a Christian foundation with the values of our people and pray for teachers who are obedient to Gott and will equip students to serve Christ, their families, and impact the world.” The minister handed the shovel to another older man with a long white beard and large belly. He scooped up the dirt and flipped it over, sprinkling it on the designated area.

  “Who is that man?” As Abby watched his deep blue eyes and ruddy cheeks, she formed a favorable opinion of him.

  “That’s the bishop, a gut man.” Mose whispered in her ear, creating goose bumps down her neck.

  When the ceremony was over, Abby turned to Mose to thank him and tell him she needed to leave, but instead he took her hand. “I’d like you to meet the minister and deacon.” He introduced her to a number of people whose names she tried to remember, but there were so many, she finally gave up.

  “Bishop Omar.” Mose called to him, and the rotund, engaging man quickly made his way over. “This is Abby. She works at the Christian school in town.”

  “Well, I’ll be. You may be able to teach us a thing or two about running a school!”

  “I’d be willing to help.”

  He gave her a mischievous grin and reached out his large, weather-worn hand.

  When the deacon shook her hand, Abby instantly knew she would like this man, and she thought he felt the same.

  Chapter Ten

  WHY THE CHANGE in your trade?” Mose’s daed, Eli, stared at him intently. His brown hair was grayer and h
is midsection was filling out, but he worked like a horse, taking great pride in his farm and sons who worked it with him.

  Mose took his time to respond. “Just thought it might be gut to try something else.”

  “You’ve been tending horses all your life without even knowing it. You wanna be a blacksmith, carpenter, and horse trainer?” His daed leaned against the anvil in the middle of the shop. “What’s the real reason?”

  Mose knew when he was beat and let it spill out. “The owner of that horse that was lame wants to train the filly.” He figured fewer words were better and stopped there.

  “You mean that pretty young lady who was at the ground breaking?” One side of his lips lifted.

  “Jah, she’s the one.” Mose automatically crossed his arms over his chest. When his daed’s grin widened, Mose added a little more. “How did you know about her?”

  “In a field full of Amish she stood out a little.” He smiled so big, his teeth gleamed at Mose.

  Mose had hoped he’d kept her out of sight from any of his family—not an easy task. “She needs a horse trainer, and I can train horses,” Mose said matter-of-factly.

  “You’re a carpenter, son. You can work a horse and shoe one, but your gift is working wood, not a filly.”

  The double meaning made Mose pause. Abby would hate that innuendo. He sighed. Maybe he was being too ambitious. If so, it would be obvious to Abby as well. He wasn’t much of a romantic, but his efforts in caring for her horse may have worked to get her attention, and that was enough.

  “I’ve done some thinking on that too.” His boot dragged along the worn wood floor. “I’d like to set up a woodworking shop here.”

  His daed pushed up his bottom lip. “Here on the farm?”

  “I get less than half of what customers pay, and they request me. And I could work year-round planting and harvesting.” Mose noticed his daed’s head nodding and knew he agreed.

  “Makes gut sense.” He glanced around the shop. “We can make a place for you.” He held up a finger. “But I still need your help with blacksmithing until your younger bruder sharpens his skills.”

  Mose grinned, elated that he could do what he had a passion for and stay in the community doing it. “I won’t miss that drive every day into town.”

  “Frank won’t either. You’re wearing that horse down.” His daed wrapped his arm around Mose’s shoulders as they walked over to their work at hand.

  Mose examined a crooked old horseshoe, deciding if it was worth repairing. “Another gut reason to stay put.”

  “I’m gonna miss your expertise in shoeing the horses.”

  Mose chuckled. “Any other ways to make me feel guilty?”

  They both laughed quietly, the same laugh all the Fishers had. When they were together, it was a cacophony of different sounds, from the mature and older to the adolescent whose voice was changing. Mose had always been amazed at his mother for putting up with them when a wrestling match broke out or there was a battle for food at the dinner table. She had taught them to be respectful, and his daed told them to be chivalrous.

  “I miss Jake.” Mose didn’t know where the words came from, and once he said it, he wanted to take them back. His daed slowed his movements, avoiding Mose’s comment. “Sorry, shouldn’t have brought him up.”

  “It’s best that way.”

  Mose was the eldest brother only because his older brother had left the community. It was difficult. Mose kept it in most of the time, but sometimes he wanted to talk about Jake to make him seem real. It was almost as if he didn’t exist. That made Mose uncomfortable. He knew it was the Amish way, but there were times when Mose questioned it.

  They dove into their work, and soon his brother Chris was at the door, telling them to come in for supper. His bowl-cut hair was a bit too long, and his big blue eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief.

  The smell of fried chicken drew Mose in as they walked in the door. Their home was larger than most and was sparsely decorated, not only because of the Amish way, but also because Mamm didn’t see the sense in doing much with a brood of boys who wouldn’t appreciate the effort. Still, Daed had made a point to make her a hand-engraved chest for the sitting room, among other crafted gifts arranged throughout their home.

  Once Mamm was seated, they prayed silently and waited for her to start passing the food. One chair was empty—Jake’s. Mose noticed her staring at the seat next to her more than once each time they sat together for a meal.

  “So, how was the day?” Daed looked at each and waited for a response. Their silver forks shimmered in the gas lighting as the guys shoveled the food into their mouths.

  “Caught me a bullfrog,” Chris boasted. His blond hair and blue eyes fit in with the rest of the crew, with the exception of his father, who had brown hair and eyes and stood taller than the rest of the family.

  Chris grunted his approval, and Mose smiled, remembering what it felt like to catch a big old frog.

  “What did you do with him?” Mose knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it.

  “Let him go.” Chris nodded his head three times quickly. “Maybe he’ll let me catch him again if he knows I’ll set him free.”

  Mamm grinned and glanced at Mose. “I hear you were with a young lady here the other day.”

  Mose stopped chewing and looked over at his daed, who continued to eat as if he hadn’t heard her. “Jah, I was.”

  “Is she English?” Mamm didn’t look up from her plate.

  “Jah.” Mose didn’t feel the need to explain. He knew the situation he was in, so as far as he was concerned, he and Abby enjoyed each other’s company, and that would be it.

  “How did you meet her?” Mamm slowly cut her chicken as she waited.

  “Her filly injured its leg, and I helped her with the healing.” A tinge of irritation slipped up his back. As much as he liked being with his family, something growing in his mind made him want to be on his own. He was well over the age most married, so it was time. And when he really thought about it, he didn’t like answering questions about things he wasn’t sure of. He didn’t want to be reminded of his feelings for Abby.

  Mamm opened her mouth, but Daed intervened. “Mose has decided on something.”

  Mose regrouped and switched to the new subject his father had so cleverly diverted him into. “I’ve decided to set up my own shop.”

  Chris’s eyes widened. “Can I help?”

  Mose wanted him involved, but not with the equipment that could get him hurt—at least, not right away. “Jah, you’re gut with curing and painting.”

  “That’s exciting news.” Mamm’s hesitant reaction let Mose know she wasn’t done talking about Abby. The last thing she would want was an English girl in her life. It had been done in the large community they came from in Virginia but was swallowed up by the amount of people there. The couple kept to themselves more than most, only seen at Sunday service or other mandatory events. They were not shunned, because the wife joined the church, but they were never fully accepted either.

  Mamm stood and started in with the dishes, giving Mose a chance to slip out to the shop and start arranging tools and utensils to one side of the room. As he worked, separating the blacksmithing from the woodworking, he found that he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to Abby, filled with thoughts of another way to see her once he stopped working in town. But then, she didn’t seem to go anywhere much. Then he thought of a way. His hat.

  Chapter Eleven

  JIM WAS GETTING worse. And his insistence that he didn’t need to see a doctor was grating on her. His obstinacy made her back off, even though she knew that was exactly what he wanted her to do.

  “You didn’t eat much breakfast.” Abby took the plate from the table and set it on the counter.

  “Wasn’t hungry. You don’t cook like your mother.” He grumbled, but she heard him loud and clear.

  “I do the best I can,” she said under her breath, sure he couldn’t hear her.

  “Y
ou been seeing that Amish man?” He kept his eyes on the newspaper and sipped his coffee.

  Abby was caught off guard by the question.

  Why is he asking, and did he know I’ve been with him?

  “The community had a ground breaking for their school.”

  “What does that have to do with you?” His voice grew stronger with each word.

  “I was there to take him something, and since I’m a teacher, they thought I’d be interested.”

  “You teach people who can’t speak English. Your mother was a teacher, went to school, got the certificate.”

  His mood was more foul than usual, and his barbs stung. She was tempted to correct him, to say how things really were, but she held back. “We didn’t have the money for me to go to college.”

  He stiffened and turned to her.

  She quickly thought of something to say that would dampen his obvious anger at her comment. “But I still got a good job, thank God.”

  His eyes narrowed. She felt so much anger from this weak and frail man. “God has nothing to do with it or anything else.”

  Abby’s defenses went up. She didn’t understand her mother’s faith much more than Jim did, but she felt a prick in her heart each time he degraded her mother’s beliefs. “That’s not what Mother believed. She read the Bible and tried to live her life by it.”

  He pounded his fist on the table. “That book is what took your mother from me. She became one of those zealot born-again Christians.”

  Abby’s heart pounded with fear. She didn’t dare talk back to him, but what he was saying wasn’t true, and it was too important to remain silent about. “You didn’t share her faith. That’s not the same as leaving you.”

  He raised his hand, the same position she had seen before as he bent over, holding his arm up high, reaching for the sky, before he hit her mother. She shielded her face with her hands and closed her eyes. Her hands wouldn’t protect her, and to cover her eyes was cowardly. But she didn’t want to see it coming, his fist balled up so tight his skin turned white.

  “Humph.” He dropped his arm and walked away with slow strides to the door and let it close after him with a slap!