Abigail's New Hope (23 page)

Catherine blushed to the roots of her hair, thinking she might die of embarrassment from the touch of his fingers. She forced thoughts of her father from her mind before she fell off Cora into a disgraced heap.

However, Isaiah didn’t seem to find anything embarrassing as he led the horse down the path toward the orchard. He maintained the same slow pace he’d used with Laura inside the ring. Catherine concentrated on holding the reins and the saddle horn, and gripping with her thighs as well as a person could in a dress.

After a few minutes of perfect behavior by Cora, Catherine glanced up toward the sky. Stars twinkled overhead in the purple-black sea as the breeze carried the sweet scent of honeysuckle and jasmine. Venus was low on the horizon, while a crescent moon hung lopsided like a forgotten English Christmas ornament. As they walked, melodic crickets, tree frogs, and hoot owls began their nightly chorus, sounding much louder in the pasture than from the open window of her bedroom. Ahead, Catherine saw the orchard, and to her shock, spotted the outline of a second horse.

Isaiah planned this little escapade, confident I would comply
, she thought, giddy with excitement.
There’s nothing simpleminded about him at all!

When they reached the tree where the horse had been tied, he tugged the reins from the low branch and mounted effortlessly, never releasing his hold on Cora’s lead rope. Once he was settled in his saddle, Isaiah leaned over to Catherine, who was clinging to her saddle horn with both hands. “
Gut?
” he asked, meeting her gaze.

She briefly considered the possibility of broken bones, Daniel’s aghast reaction should he find out, and her personal shame if she fell into a mud puddle. After a moment, she drew a breath and nodded affirmatively. “
Gut
,” she said in a voice crackling with animation.

And
gut
didn’t come close to describing the nighttime ride through apple orchard, open pasture, and scrub woods of mountain laurel and hemlock. Although Isaiah avoided the dark paths of the deep forest, he took her on an adventure through a world of unknown sights, sounds, and smells. Neither spoke. No one had to. The night was alive with hoots, cackles, croaks, howls, and whispers. Isaiah was at home in the shadowy darkness, with only the moon and stars to point the way. So Catherine relaxed in the saddle and gave herself up to the unexpected.

At no point was she ever afraid.

And if she lived to be one hundred and ten, she doubted she would ever again enjoy herself so much.

Nathan awoke from fitful sleeping to the sound of a coyote howling up in the hills. He bolted upright in bed and scrubbed his face with his palms; then he realized it was no coyote. His son was kicking up a fuss in the next bedroom. He settled back on damp warm sheets in a hot, airless room and heard his windup clock tick…tick…tick. No breeze stirred the curtains as he listened, overtired from long hours in the relentless sun and strung out from worry. How would he pay off all the money he owed? Amish folks weren’t supposed to be in debt, yet Nathan Fisher owed money to just about everyone. The district members didn’t wish to be repaid for their contribution toward the baby’s medical bills or Ruth’s funeral. Instead, he would be expected to chip in for future expenses, such as barn raisings or unexpected surgeries. But Nathan couldn’t imagine himself staying in this district once his one-year lease was up.

Not without Ruth. The memory of that horrible night trailed him around the house like a malevolent shadow. He would never stop hearing her cries of anguish as long as he lived here. So he planned to pay the district and that hospital every dollar he owed and then he would leave this land of painful broken dreams.

In the meantime, how could a man sleep with this racket? He needed to rise at four o’clock for milking and then cleaning stalls while the horseflies were still asleep. Plus, he would have a full day if he wanted to finish cutting hay. After another minute of listening to Abraham wail, Nathan swung his legs out of bed and shrugged into his robe. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked in his aunt’s open doorway.

Iris paced the length of the room with the red-faced infant on her hip. “I’m not sure. He has some heat rash on his back and legs, so that’s probably why he’s fussy.” The boy appeared oblivious to her attempts to soothe or comfort. “I’ll pick up ointment tomorrow when I’m in town.”

“Is there nothing you can do tonight? A man needs to get his rest.”

She knit her brows and glared at him. “So does a woman, I assure you.”

Nathan blew out his breath with a whistle. “True enough, I suppose.” Although he didn’t sound wholly convinced.

“Here, nephew. Hold him while I use the bathroom.” Before he could object, Iris foisted the crying child into his arms and marched from the room.

He peered into his son’s pinched, beet-colored face, uncertain what to do. He tried rocking him in his arms to no avail. He lifted him up and down while making the silly noises he’d heard women do at social events. But Abraham Fisher was having none of it.

As unknowledgeable as Nathan was, he knew the heat wasn’t helping the situation. He carried the child down the hall and out the front door, despite it being the middle of the night. By the time Iris found them, the boy had settled down as Nathan rocked in the porch swing.

“Looks like you’re managing,” she said, slumping into a plastic chair.

“
Jah
, as long as I keep rocking him out here where it’s cooler. What do you suppose will happen if I lay him down in his cradle?”

“I imagine he’ll start crying again.” She answered without a moment’s hesitation. “That’s part of being a parent.”

“I am not cut out for this, Iris. I need to milk cows in the morning.” He continued rocking, afraid to stop.

“Then you’d better get
cut out for it
, Nathan Fisher. You worry more about those Holsteins than your own flesh and blood.” Her tone revealed more than simple discomfort from a hot, humid night.

“That’s because I know how to deal with cows. This baby was Ruth’s idea. She wanted a
boppli
to fuss over like the other women. With her gone I can’t step into her shoes.”

“Shame on you! Your wife died giving you a fine son, and yet you fret and moan and feel sorry for yourself.”

Anger spiked through his blood, but when he opened his mouth to deny her allegations, to lash out against her unfair judgment, no words came to mind. Instead, his eyes filled with moisture, and despite every attempt to control his emotions, two tears ran down his face.

“I know you’re hurting, Nathan. I know you miss your wife,” she murmured. “But your son knows nothing about that. He needs his
daed
. He needs you.”

It was a good thing she couldn’t see his face, because Nathan sat with tears falling freely. Soon his whole body was racked with sobs. Iris lifted the
boppli
from his arms and then sat back in her chair. The child, blessedly, drifted off to sleep in the crook of her arm. “How long are you going to carry around this anger toward Abraham?”

Hearing her speak his name filled Nathan with shame. After a little while he spoke with a mouth gone dry. “I don’t want to blame him, to be mad as though this were his fault, but I don’t know how to stop.” He buried his face in his hands and cried.

“I don’t know how to help you, but that lady social worker does. Maybe you should give her a call. The business card she left behind is in the drawer with the pot holders.”

He glanced up. All the fight had gone out of him. He couldn’t argue because every word his aunt spoke was true. “I’ll walk to the neighbors’ tomorrow and call her.”

“No, you’ll be watching your son tomorrow. My daughter-in-law is picking me up in a hired van to take me to the doctor’s office. After that, I’m buying her lunch at the buffet restaurant and then we’ll do a little shopping.”

He stared at her through the near darkness, but her expression didn’t waver. “I know this will be a trial by fire for you, nephew, but that’s your own fault. You should have been learning about diaper changing and whatnot along the way. I’ll leave his bottles ready in the fridge with instructions on how to warm them.” She paused to take in a breath. “I won’t leave until after your cows are milked. I do understand the importance of
that
chore.” She offered a wry smile.

“
Danki
, Aunt. And don’t worry. I will do whatever needs to be done.”

She rose to her feet with the sleeping child. “To save you some time, I’ll call the social worker while I’m in Wooster. I’ll ask her to stop out when she can. You have to start somewhere.”

Nathan watched her carry Abraham inside. He hoped the boy would sleep until morning so Iris could get some rest. He, however, would sleep no more that night. He had to figure out how to be a
daed
by tomorrow.

A
bby awoke with a start. The nightmares that had plagued her since A her incarceration had grown more unsettling. Images of sick children, husbands reaching the end of their patience, and stern fathers shaking their fists conspired to provide another restless night. Kneeling beside her bed, she prayed for strength. Later today she would appear again in court. Her lawyer indicated there was a chance she could be released on her own recognizance.

Home
.
Reunited with Daniel and Laura and Jake
. Thinking of loved ones filled her with a tangible ache that neither food nor water could satisfy. Yet, as the specters of her nightmares retreated to the shadows, Abby doubted the judge would be merciful. Her fellow inmates often spoke of his harsh sentences and brusque treatment. Why would her case be any different?

Opening her Bible to the book of Daniel, she read the story of someone far braver than she. Daniel had lived in Jerusalem. After the Babylonians captured the city, he was taken back to Babylon, where he would spend the next sixty years of his life. During this time of great warring tribes, the Persians marched on Babylon and captured the city. Although Daniel was forced to work for the conquering king of Persia as an adviser, he continued to serve God faithfully. Jealous associates plotted to have him thrown into a lions’ den, but God protected faithful Daniel from the hungry beasts. The following morning he walked unscathed from the den.

Abby tried to remember Daniel’s devotion when the deputy arrived at the door carrying her Amish clothes. Today they hung from a hanger instead of being rolled up in a plastic sack.

“Did you launder my dress, Deputy Todd?” Abby asked, surprised.

The woman blushed, her cheeks turning bright pink. “Yes. They wouldn’t have fared well in the jail laundry because the fabric isn’t permanent press. We can’t have you looking a mess when you stand before the judge.” She laid the outfit across the bed.

“Thank you,” Abby said. “I am in your debt.”