A Simple Faith: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (30 page)

“Peter and Luke. They’re twins, a year younger than James.”

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Verena went off to answer it.

“I was wondering if one of your other sons might want to learn James’s exercise routine, so they could help him,” Haley suggested. “That would give you a break, Edna.”

The Amish woman’s lips were pursed as she slid one of the pans of bread onto the stove burners. “I don’t think so. Peter and Luke are needed out in the orchards, especially now that James can’t work.”

Animated voices flowed from the main room, and Haley turned to see two young Amish women shuffling a pair of small children through the door.

“We won’t stay long.” The woman with dark brown hair carried a covered dish into the kitchen and placed it on the counter. “That’s a casserole for your dinner. Remy has another so you don’t have to stretch it out. Saves you two nights of cooking, though I see you’ve been baking.”

“Denki, Mary.”

“Something smells good, and I’m hungry.” The boy looked eagerly around the kitchen for signs of baking. He seemed to be five or six, and Haley thought he looked adorable in a mini version of the Amish dress she’d seen on the men: black pants, suspenders, blue shirt, and a black wide-brimmed hat.

“Such an appetite!” Mary took off the boy’s hat and handed it to him. “Didn’t you just eat, Sam?”

Sam shrugged. “But I wasn’t so hungry then.”

“Verena and I just made some bread. Sit and have some tea.”

“Tea would be perfect,” said the woman with fiery red hair. She placed a second casserole dish on the counter and helped the little girl shrug out of her coat. “You can warm up by the stove, Katie. It’s so cold out there, I’m surprised that my mouth isn’t frozen shut.”

Verena paused, kettle in hand. “I don’t think that can really happen.”

“I hope not.” The women chuckled, and Edna nodded at Haley. “This here’s Haley. She came to help James with his physical therapy.”

The young women murmured a greeting as Edna introduced Mary Beiler and Remy King, the two auction organizers. Haley felt warmed by their approval and appreciation for what she was doing.

“It’s good of you to come out and help James,” Mary said as she laid her coat on a rocking chair and took a seat on the bench opposite Haley. She had wise brown eyes that matched her dark hair.

“I’m just glad that he can have home healthcare now.” Remy had a professional demeanor about her that belied her Amish clothing and white kapp. “All that time in the rehab facility had to be lonely for a guy who’d never spent even a week away from home.”

“That’s a good point,” Haley agreed. “When you’re not feeling well, there’s no place like home.”

Everyone took a place at the table, where Verena served tea and Edna put out slices of fresh-baked bread with butter, honey, and jam. A certain coziness surrounded them, with the fragrance of baking and the warmth of the glowing stove. Haley sensed contentment here, and she felt honored to be included in this little gathering.

“Now, mind you don’t ruin your appetite,” Edna told the children.

“I can eat and eat and eat some more,” Sam said. “I’m always hungry.”

The women laughed.

“But it’s true,” Remy said, with a fond look at the boy. “I think he’s going through a growth spurt.”

Haley learned through conversation that Remy was an Englisher who had joined the Anabaptist Church and married an Amish man. That was an unusual twist, and it certainly explained the shock of red hair that stood out under her kapp.

“I didn’t know that a person could marry into the Amish faith,” Haley said, giving voice to her thoughts.

“It’s hardly ever done,” Mary explained.

“The bishop did discourage me for a while.” Remy held her mug aloft, her green eyes thoughtful. “The Amish are not looking for people to join the faith. I guess I was the anomaly.”

What had it been like for Remy to have a faith so strong that she would give up all the conveniences of modern life—cell phones and dishwashers and cars—to become Amish?

“I hope I don’t sound nosy,” Haley said. “But what drove you to do what you did? Was it a matter of faith?”

Remy wiped a dab of milk from the table in front of Katie. “I’ll admit, it was love that first hooked me. I fell for my husband, Adam, but I fell in love with his family, too.”

“Which is a very good thing, because Adam came with a large family. Eleven of us in all,” Mary said.

“But in the end, it all boiled down to faith. I had to do some soul-searching to be sure it was the right choice for me.” Remy recalled how she had met with the bishop, who had told her that if she got baptized, there was no going back. He said that joining the Anabaptist Church was not like having an ice-cream cone. “He told me that I couldn’t make vanilla my favorite one month and then move on to chocolate or strawberry.” Remy smiled. “That conversation
still sticks with me. I told him: ‘Vanilla it is,’ and we laughed. So now I’m vanilla for life.”

Although the women chuckled, Haley was intrigued by a certain reverence in what Remy was saying. It made her take a look inward at her own faith, meager though it was. She believed in God and she attended a Christian church. She had taught Sunday school and always hoped to go on a ministry overseas, but that was motivated more by the desire to travel than by faith.

So where did she stand with God?

She believed in Him. Definitely. But beyond that … was she chocolate or vanilla or chocolate chip cookie dough? She didn’t have a clue.

Together, Remy and her new husband, Adam, were raising his siblings, of whom Sam and Katie were the youngest. Haley had to keep herself from staring as Remy talked about putting together the charity auction. It was odd to hear a young woman in Amish apparel sounding a bit like a Madison Avenue ad executive.

As the women talked, the underlying love and support came through clearly. Haley looked toward the door, wondering if James was aware of all the people banding together out of concern for him. Did he notice?

That afternoon, as Dylan drove her home, Haley asked how James’s treatment was progressing. “I know you can’t tell me specifics, with doctor-patient confidentiality and everything. It’s just that I feel like he was reaching out to me. He feels trapped, doesn’t he?”

“You’ve got that part right.”

“Did you try the guided imagery with him … or are you allowed to tell me?”

“I can tell you that it doesn’t work in every case. Some patients
are not receptive to it. There needs to be a certain level of trust between the therapist and patient.”

“And you’re not there with James yet.” There was no mistaking James’s desire to withdraw; the lack of eye contact and conversation was evidence of his emotional distance.

Dylan gave her a quick look. “You’re pretty insightful for a nursing student.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a little older than the norm. Older and wiser.”

“Gimme a break. You’re a creaky old twenty-two.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m a hundred and three.” The warm interior of the car held a certain intimacy. She had slipped off her clogs and sat with one leg folded under her. “Especially when I see a young man stuck in a wheelchair with little hope of ever walking again.”

“This job you chose, it’s not always pretty.”

“I know that. But it’s the only job for me.” She looked up and realized that they were at the curb outside her parents’ house. “Do you want to come in?” she asked, not ready to lose his company.

“I should go. We both have things to do. But I wanted to thank you for taking on James. His family appreciates your help, and I’m glad we’ll be working together.”

“Me, too.” She removed her seat belt, leaned toward him, and squeezed his lower arm. “Flannel works for you. Maybe you should go casual at the hospital.”

“Maybe.”

Her fingers were still grazing his arm, and she realized she’d broken through that wall by touching him. Now they were connected, intimately attached. Her face was inches from his, so close she could see a tiny scar on his chin. She reached up and pressed her fingertip to the small half-moon.

“You have a scar,” she said softly.

“I have a lot of scars. That’s one of the few you can see.”

“I can make it better.” Her finger slipped away and she leaned closer to place a kiss on his chin. “See?”

He tipped his face down and suddenly the air between them sparked with electricity as she pressed her lips against his.

The kiss made her pulse thrum happily, a murmur of pleasure that surged from head to toe. She shifted and reached out to him, finding support in soft flannel and strong shoulders. When the kiss deepened, she opened her lips to his gentle pressure. He tasted of coffee and mint gum, bitter and sweet, and she sighed against him, warmed by comfort and joy.

“Mmm.” He ended the kiss, and they both took a breath. “You do have a gift for healing.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” she offered. “I think my dad is here. We could watch a game with him.” Haley did not want to let him go.

“Maybe next time.”

“Okay.” She leaned back. “I’ll let you put me off again. But I want you to know that I’m on to you.”

“Really? So I guess you’re familiar with those bad clichés about not fishing off the company pier? Don’t get your honey where you get your money.”

She winced. “That sounds like something teenage boys would laugh about in a locker room.”

“Still … we work together. I’m in a position of authority over you.”

“Hold on, there. You’re not my boss.”

“No, but … I am a good deal older than you. And I’m a loner. A hermit. You wouldn’t like me if you really got to know me.”

She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “I see where this is going. You’re going to make a million excuses and I’m going to knock them all down.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I hear you, but … I don’t agree.” Her hand lingered on the door handle. “And I’m not going to take it personally, because I know there’s something between us. You just haven’t admitted it yet.” She hoped that her voice sounded confident, unlike the quivering in her soul. She opened the door to the bracing cold. “Call me when you decide to come back to the human race.”

She stormed into the house. Half an hour later, while crying in the shower, she pressed a fingertip to her swollen lips and wondered about Dylan’s scars. Who had hurt him so much that he had closed himself to love?

He needed healing. She sniffed. So did she.

Dear God, please heal our hearts
.

34

A
ll day Saturday, Elsie wondered if he had meant what he said. Would Ruben really shine a light on her window tonight, after everyone else in the house was asleep?

It was a normal courtship ritual for Amish youth, but not having had a boyfriend, Elsie felt a bit out of sorts. Should she warn Fanny, or keep to herself? What about Emma and Caleb? Would they be worried if they heard something stirring in the frozen bushes outside?

Embarrassment flared under her skin, making her blush at the dinner table as Caleb remarked that he wanted a good night’s sleep after working all day on the carriage house.

Oh, if you want to sleep, you’d best pull the covers tight over your eyes
, Elsie worried.