A Simple Charity (32 page)

“Knowing Jack, I don’t think he’ll be too fazed by this. Worried about you, yes, but not daunted.” He mentioned how Jack had championed Halfway’s Christmas food drive, and how he continued to push to set up a year-round food bank. “Jack’s not the kind of guy to turn around when he comes to a roadblock.”

That was the Jack she knew. It was foolish to think that he would abandon her because of her medical issues, but sometimes there was no logic to human emotions.

“Have you talked to Fanny lately?” he asked. “I’m wondering when the birthing center will be ready to open.”

“I saw her just before Christmas Eve, and it sounds like they’re doing the finishing touches. The major construction is complete. I’d say you’ll be doing deliveries there in the next few weeks.”

“Wonderful.” The doctor’s demeanor changed, his professional reserve giving way to delight. “That’s quite an accomplishment, opening a place like that in your own backyard. I’m confident that it will serve the community well, and I’m glad Fanny has you involved. Takes some of the pressure off me.”

“I’m itching to get back to work. As soon as Zoey has her baby, I’ll begin doing prenatal care and helping Fanny with deliveries. Do you think Anna will want to midwife again after she’s recovered?”

“That I don’t know. She’s been devoted to helping women give birth, but she’s older, and her family has left Halfway. I’m thinking she might want to follow her daughter to Ohio.”

“Whatever she decides, with the number of pregnant Amish women I’ve seen around Halfway and Paradise, there will be plenty of work for all of us.”

“Indeed. The Amish have large families. The women of Lancaster County will certainly keep you busy.”

Meg grinned. “Music to my ears.”

26

A
s Fanny shoveled the freshly baked cookies into a basket for distribution at church, she thanked the Lord for the distraction of hard work. It cleared the mind, tired the body, and brought a sense of satisfaction when a task was completed. The chores of cooking, cleaning, and tending to the horses helped to ease the worry that nibbled at her conscience.

That kiss
. Oh, how could something so sweet and tender sour into a moment of disgrace?

She could not undo the damage now. All she could do was hope and pray that Joan kept the knowledge she had gained from passing her lips. That was the only way Fanny and Zed could avoid a fullblown scandal.

Fearing the worst, Fanny had spoken with her older children. “I just want you to know the truth,” Fanny told Caleb and Elsie one night after the little ones were in bed, “in case gossip starts.”

Caleb took the news with stoic grace. He had already heard bits
and pieces from Kate, who had suffered through the story from her aunt on the way home from the gathering. “Kate’s mamm told her that it’s no reflection on me,” Caleb said, “though she wishes that Kate would date someone from a better family.”

“A better family?” Elsie’s face puckered in consternation. “We’re all sinners on this earth. I wish those Fishers could see that we’re not in competition for Gott’s love.”

Elsie’s reaction eased Fanny’s embarrassment. “You are so right, dear girl.”

“I know Joan doesn’t take kindly to you, Fanny.” Caleb frowned, running his knuckles over the scarred surface of the table. “She doesn’t know you the way we do.”

“She doesn’t know you and love you,” Elsie said.

Caleb stacked his fists on the table, a twinkle in his eyes. “It made me bristle when I first heard about it. But I remembered what Dat used to say about pointing out people’s faults. Before you point to someone’s faults, take time to count to ten—ten of your own.”

“He did say that,” Elsie said with a delighted smile.

“Oh, I’m sure I can count way past ten,” Fanny added.

They laughed together, easing the tension in Fanny’s muscles. Laughter was truly the best medicine.

Fanny and Zed had not spoken of the incident, but how could that happen when they were never alone? Fanny made sure of that, taking little Tommy out to the carriage house with her when she checked on Zed. In the mornings, Elsie and Caleb were here to provide a buffer, but that wasn’t necessary since Zed stopped inside for a mug of coffee and then ducked out just as quickly. Perhaps he was respecting her request to be left alone. Fanny had not been able to meet his gaze, and she longed for the mirth or warmth or compassion that flowed from Zed’s molasses brown eyes. While the embarrassment of being caught stung, the loss of her connection to Zed knocked the life out of her.

She missed him. Her heart seemed to break just a bit more every day, and yet, she could see no end to the pain. She could not imagine a way back to his arms.

In the four days that had passed since second Christmas, Fanny had not heard much of anything from outside the walls of her home. Sarah Beiler had gone into labor, but the birth had been handled by Doc Trueherz and Anna, whose cast had been removed. Anna had wanted to be there, since Sarah was her grandniece.

Fanny would need to venture beyond the safety of her cocoon today; everyone in the Amish community would be attending church at the home of Dave and Lydia Zook. Oh, she was afraid to step out of the buggy and face the curious eyes! But one could not miss church. Besides, she might be making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe Joan had cooled off after she’d vented a bit on the ride home. Maybe she hadn’t told a soul.

“Flicker is hitched up and ready to go,” Caleb reported. “And there are two warming bricks on the woodstove for the ride.”

“Sounds like the cold spell has started.” Fanny handed him the basket of cookies. “These can go in the buggy. And, Will, don’t forget to put the milk back in the fridge.”

Will looked up from the table and wiped a mustache of milk off with his sleeve. “Yes, Mamm.” When he crossed the room with the pitcher, Fanny had to bite back a smile. “You’re growing like a weed. Look at those pants!” The hem of his pants was a full two inches above his shoes. “There’s some sewing to be done this week.”

Will shrugged. “They’re fine.”

Boys could be so easy, Fanny thought, sweeping Tommy off his feet for a diaper change before church. They didn’t seem to be tempted to gossip as much as women were.

Bundled together under lap blankets and singing carols with the children and young people, Fanny felt her worries fade. Family was the blanket of love that surrounded a person.

Memories of family life rolled through her mind. Digging in the garden, the whole family working shovels and spades to turn the soil. Grooming the horses. Helping Elsie clean the Country Store so that the windows and floors were shiny clean. So much activity to be shared in the kitchen, the center of their home. Canning berries and tomatoes with the girls. Baking and cooking. Playing board games and working puzzles.

And the joy when work became play! A few weeks ago, while Tommy was napping, Fanny had wrapped a kerchief on her head and put the children in old clothes so that they could help paint the center. Zed had pitched in, and fortunately he’d had the foresight to tape off the edges and cover the floor with a drop cloth. A good thing, because Beth didn’t seem to notice when her brush dribbled paint from the can to the wall. Will was put to work on the corners, Beth on the taped edges, and Fanny smoothed a roller over the walls. Zed painted the ceiling, cutting in the edges by hand.

The laughter started when Zed straightened and brushed the ceiling with his head. That left him with a streak of white in his dark hair.

“You’re a skunk!” Beth proclaimed.

“Do I smell so bad?” Zed had teased.

That had started the children laughing. Inspired, Will pushed his head against one of the walls and came away with a smear of pale blue in his hair. “I’m a blue skunk,” he proclaimed.

Then Beth dipped a finger into the paint and dotted her arms with it, proclaiming that she had blue chicken pox.

Fanny had noted the paint spatter on her own arm. “I see that it’s contagious,” she said. But really, the only thing that had been contagious was the laughter. By the time they were through, Fanny found that her sides ached from laughing so much. But the center got its coat of paint—and so did the children. Fortunately, the water-based paint washed off easily in the tub.

Ya, family life was the way of the Amish, and Zed had folded into their family so effortlessly, Fanny had come to believe that was the way Gott intended it. She still prayed that other folk would come to understand that; that they might recognize the love that lived in Zed’s heart, love he shared with Fanny and her family. That was nothing to be ashamed of. Jesus himself had said that there are three gifts that last—faith, hope, and love. “And the greatest of these is love.”

By the time they arrived at the Zooks, an easy smile had settled on her face. With Tommy in one arm, she handed off the basket of cookies and found dear Edna, who wanted to come by to help set up the center.

“I’ve heard so much about it, Fanny, and I want to see it for myself,” Edna said, her breath a puff of white in the air. “How about Wednesday?”

The offer of help was much appreciated, but more than that, Fanny was relieved that the gossip hadn’t seeped out to poison her friendship with Edna. “Wednesday morning would be fine,” Fanny said. “I could sure use some help hanging curtains. It’s a two-person job.”

They chatted for a few minutes, but then it was time to file into the house for church. Like many Amish homes, the Zook house had removable walls that had come down so that the entire ground floor of the house could be used for the service. Fanny took a seat beside Edna and settled Beth on the other side. As she pulled Tommy on her lap, she noticed that his nose was running. “Blow,” she said in his ear, pressing a hankie to his nose. He just gave a little whimper. Probably teething again. His four front teeth had come in, but he was approaching the time when he’d be getting more.

A hush fell over the hundred or so people, who were all dressed in their Sunday best. The silence was broken by a voice that rose from the men’s section—the
Vorsinger
, who led the group in song. Church had begun.

After a few minutes, Tommy’s whimper made it clear that he was not feeling well. Trying to comfort her boy, Fanny held him close and swayed a bit. Soon the warm, sad music of the Loblied washed over the rows of Plain folk, and she let out a breath and lost herself in song and prayer.

Throughout the service, Tommy was fidgety. He did not seem warm with fever, but his cheeks were flushed and his little nose was dripping. “Either it’s teething or a cold coming on,” Fanny told Edna as they filed out of the house. Beth and Will skipped ahead to find cousins and friends.

“Poor thing. From the look of him, I say it’s teething,” Edna said, patting Tommy on the back. “When you get home, give him a big, cold carrot. He can teethe on it to his heart’s content.”

“A good idea,” Fanny said, wiping Tommy’s nose once again.

There was no barn, as the Zooks leased their land to other farmers and pursued other businesses. However, a large tent had been set up outside, and two space heaters did a nice job of taking the edge off the cold. Under the tent, men, women, and teens were congregating in different locations, chatting while the hosts and their helpers rearranged the church benches around tables for the fellowship meal. Small children played on the fringes or outside the tent, where they could run about without bothering anyone. With Tommy calling to get down, Fanny thought it best to get him away from the large crowds. While Edna went into the house to help set things up, Fanny took her son out.

At the door of the tent, she nearly ran into Joan, who was marching inside in a hurry. “It’s awfully cold out there,” Joan said crisply. Although she didn’t look Fanny in the eye, it was clear she was talking to her.

“And from the sky, I’d say it’s going to snow,” Fanny said cheerfully. “I like it when the ground is pure white with snow, and the family can stay cozy by the fire.”

“Not me.” Joan rubbed her hands together and scanned the crowd. “Snow clogs up everything. Bad roads and bad for business.”

“Maybe I’m wrong. We might just have a cold, clear night,” Fanny said pleasantly.