A Simple Charity (33 page)

“Let’s hope so,” Joan said, moving toward a group of women clustered near a space heater.

The sting of cold outside the tent was nothing compared to Joan’s brisk manner. Well, at least she had paused to speak with Fanny. That had to be a good sign.

Seeing Will and Beth, she headed toward a group of children playing near a picnic table. But she didn’t go three steps before she spotted Zed talking to the bishop and some men.

Dark-eyed, humble Zed. Since that shameful night, he had filled her thoughts. From looking at him now, she couldn’t tell if he missed her, too. His face was calm as a summer lake under his black hat. The dark eyes that seemed to peer into her heart were fixed elsewhere. And the hands that could drive a nail or gently rub a bump on Will’s head, those hands were hidden away, tucked into his black coat for warmth.

She had to steel herself to keep from staring, but she noticed that one of the men was Tim Ebersol, the builder. Hadn’t Zed mentioned getting a job with him? And there was a woman in the group—Tim’s daughter Sarah. Known as a chatterbox, Sarah wrote a regular column for one of the Amish newspapers, and more than once the bishop had warned her not to share personal stories from the community, but to keep things general. Fanny had to tear her gaze away and focus on her children.

Tommy seemed content to toddle around the picnic table and play in the midst of the older children, so Fanny took a seat there and braced herself against the cold. The table backed up to a tall boxwood hedge, and female voices traveled through it. Fanny tended to her little boy while one of the women revealed her recipe
for cheddar apple pie and another talked of the lovely quilt she had received for her hope chest at Christmas. Then she heard someone mention Zed.

“He’s going to be working for my father,” a woman said, “so I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

That was probably Sarah, Fanny thought.

“Do you fancy Zed Miller?” someone asked.

Someone answered that she might, if she could get him talking. “Whenever I see him, it’s as if his mouth is glued shut.”

Fanny grinned. Zed was not one to waste words, but he had plenty to say to her.

“I think Sarah and Zed would be a good match,” another woman said. “She can fill in the blanks when he’s not talking. Which is most of the time!”

Laughter twittered through the hedges like chirping birds, and Fanny felt a twinge of annoyance that these girls would poke fun at a good man like Zed. Were matters of the heart a game to them?

“I see him at least once a week, sometimes more,” came a booming voice. Dorcas Fisher. “Zed has a weakness for good bread. I suspect he’ll be coming around more, once he finishes that center and gets himself free from Fanny Lapp.”

“I didn’t know he was hitched up to her buggy.”

The words went through Fanny, sharp as a knife.

“Didn’t you hear?” Dorcas’s voice thumped like a heavy shoe. “They were caught kissing. Think of that. She’s still wearing black, mourning one husband, while she’s moving in on the next.”

Fanny rose quickly, not wanting to hear another word. She scooped up Tommy, who was happily cruising around the seat of the picnic table, and marched toward the tent to find Caleb or Elsie. She needed to go home. Away from here. Now.

Shame burned hot on her face, but she swallowed hard to stave off tears. She would not cry in front of the community.

Tommy was fussing, upset at being torn from his fun. “Hush.” She pressed a hand to his cheek and looked him in the eye. “We’re going home now. We’ll get you a nice fat carrot for your gums. How about that?”

His brow still furrowed in determination, but he stopped moaning and touched the string of her kapp. Not even a year old, and he knew when to give up.

Why hadn’t she learned that lesson?

Stung by humiliation, she slipped into the tent to find a way home.

27

M
onday morning, Zed sat at the table in the Lapp kitchen and thought about the old saying to keep your boots under the table. It meant that a man belonged at home with his family, a message he had never really understood until he’d started coming here to work. Sitting with his boots under this table, it just felt right.

The coffee, hot and black, was just what Zed needed to sharpen his focus. He sipped quietly, occasionally chiming in while Caleb told Will and Beth about his own days in school with a different teacher, Miss Marian.

The story of a frog in someone’s lunch pail had Will giggling, but Zed could only smile. He was too preoccupied with Fanny to chip in on the conversation.

He’d lain awake for most of the night, trying to build a plan that would keep Fanny safe from the scorn of gossipers, a plan that would protect them both from disapproving eyes until the time came when it would be acceptable for Zed to court her in February.

The plan would begin with a simple talk after the others had gone. They could not go on this way, with Fanny staring at the ground, with him walking on eggshells whenever they were together for fear of someone seeing them and fanning the fires of gossip.

He took another sip of the coffee, letting the bitter taste roll on his tongue. It was their timing that was bitter. Ya, it would have been far better to fall in love with her a few months down the road. Once a mourning period ended, folks believed that Gott wanted a person to marry again.

But who could stop an early frost or keep the sun from shining in the summer? Some things just happened the way they happened. Gott had brought Zed here. Gott had brought Fanny and him together. And Gott didn’t make mistakes.

The sound of light footsteps on the stairs drew him back to the moment just as Fanny came into the kitchen with Tommy on her hip. The boy held a large carrot in his hand, while Fanny had one finger poked inside his mouth.

“Look what I found poking through,” she announced. “A little nub of a tooth.” As she brought the baby closer to the table she noticed Zed sitting with the others.

“Zed. Good morning. I didn’t know you were here so early.” Her gaze flickered immediately back to Tommy. “Show your brothers the new tooth that’s coming in.”

But Tommy recoiled, hiding against Fanny.

“At least he likes his carrot.” Caleb rose from the table and pinched Tommy lightly on the chin.

“But he’s not eating it,” Will said. “Why doesn’t he eat it?”

“It’s for teething,” Fanny said, explaining how it felt good to press the cool, hard surface against sore gums.

Just then Elsie came in from outside, bundled up in a coat, hat, and gloves. “Let’s get a move on, folks,” she said. “It’s not getting any warmer out there.”

Will and Caleb bundled up, collected their lunch pails, and headed out.

“Fanny?” Zed was on his feet as soon as the door closed behind them. “We have to talk.”

She dared to look directly in his eyes, and he saw that her blue eyes were rimmed with red. “All right, then.”

He followed her to the front room, where Beth was playing contentedly, introducing her doll to the figurines in the Christmas manger. With Tommy content in his playpen, they returned to the kitchen and she picked up the coffeepot.

“I have no words,” she said, pouring him another cup. “Sorry doesn’t really cover the shame I’ve brought upon you. And just when folks here were beginning to accept you.”

He wanted to tell her that folks were also beginning to trust him, that he’d had a very good offer to work for Ebersol Construction. After a rough patch back here in Halfway, Zed knew he could find steady work now. But he also saw through some of the offers. He wasn’t blind to the bishop’s matchmaking, pushing him toward Sarah Ebersol. Or his mother’s attempt to spark a romance in the bakery between him and Dorcas Fisher.

Fanny poured a mug of coffee, and then lowered the pot to the burner with a clang. “I’m sorry, Zed.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who should be protecting you, and the memory of your husband. I’m sorry that Joan saw us together. But I’m not sorry to be in love with you.”

Speechless, she pressed a hand to her mouth and shook her head.

He started to rise to his feet to go to her, wanting to hold her, to comfort her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t chance someone walking in and seeing them, and he didn’t want to add to Fanny’s regrets. If she thought it was disrespectful to Tom’s memory, Zed would abide by that.

“I’m afraid I’ve spoiled our chance at happiness.” She sat at the
table beside him, but now she would not meet his eyes. “I’m so ashamed, Zed. Joan has told others, and the terrible story is out.”

He winced. From the way that Fanny had left church so abruptly yesterday, he suspected as much.

“And though I was cross with Joan, I can’t deny the truth.” Her voice was low, thick with emotion. “I loved Tom with all my heart, and yet I wasn’t able to mourn him properly without falling into another man’s arms.”

“You’re making it sound like a bad thing that Gott has led us to each other. Ya, you must mourn your husband for a full year. And we made a mistake, not waiting. But no crime was committed. We did not violate the Ordnung, Fanny. If you feel it’s a sin, ask Gott in Heaven for forgiveness. Seek and ye shall find.”

She smoothed her fingertips over the surface of the kitchen table. “I feel like there’s a mark upon me, a scar that will never heal.” Her palm stretched toward the center of the table, fanning over the wood’s surface. “See these scratches on the table? Some from scissors; this is where we cut out patterns. This is where the children do homework.” She ran her fingertips over a matted area. “They press hard when they write with a pencil. A gouge from the skillet. Sometimes I think this table is like a history of our family, a time line. I don’t mind the scars, but it’s just a table. It’s different to know that people look at me and see so many nicks and scars.”

He shook his head. “Nay, Fanny.” He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful through and through, clear as a mountain spring, bright as the summer sun. That was how he saw her. But he knew she was beautifully flawed, too. That was how Gott made mankind. And Zed could not erase the scars that others saw.

He ran his fingertips over the table, finding a series of grooves cut into one corner. “Someone forgot to use a cutting board?”

She nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“It’s a very nice table. Practical and clean. Plain and simple. It
brings the family together for meals. That’s the Amish way. It supports the daily routine of a family. Isn’t that all that Gott asks of us?”

She closed her eyes and pushed away from the table. “I’m sorry, Zed. I can’t live with this shame.” A kitchen drawer squeaked open, and her hands burrowed through it. “You can’t be coming here anymore. I … I’ll always be grateful for the fine work you’ve done on the center. Everyone in Halfway is thankful for that. But most everything’s done now. Doc Trueherz said we should open our doors.”

“But the trim isn’t finished in the—”

“I’ll ask Caleb to do it in his spare time.”

They both knew Caleb had precious little spare time, and most of that was spent with his girlfriend, Kate. But Zed simply watched as she took the envelope of cash from the drawer and began to count out twenty-dollar bills on the table in front of him.

“No, no, Fanny. Don’t do this.”

“That’s for the last two weeks.” She swallowed, staring at the stack of money. “Please, take it and go.”

“Fanny, liebe, take a deep breath. There’s no tangle here that can’t be undone with a little time.”

She stared at the money, blinking back tears.

Zed rose from the table, coffee cup in his hand. “I’ll go. But I’m not giving up. When your mourning is over, I’ll be back. And when the time is right, I hope that you’ll marry me and be my wife.”

“That would be wrong.”

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. But loving you is not one of them. I won’t give up on you. I know Gott means for us to be together.” He crossed the room and put his empty cup in the sink. “Just not quite yet.”

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