Renewing Hope (In Your World #2) (23 page)

I glanced at Naomi but she just shrugged again.

“I just thought,” the Bishop’s wife began and then shook her head. “Between my husband’s disdain for you and the way you have helped Benjamin, I thought perhaps my son had taken an interest.”

I openly gaped at the Bishop’s wife for a moment before I could come to my senses.

“Benjamin is a friend,” I said, my words a little stuttered.

She waved her hand at me and nodded.

“Probably for the best,” she said and offered me a sympathetic smile. “Your past would not have garnered fair judgment from my husband should you wish to wed my son.”

I stood there frozen at her words.

My affection toward Nathan had done nothing to help my cause, either.

She seemed to sense my concern and came over to me, placing one frail hand on my shoulder.

“Sit with us for supper,” she said. “My husband will see your heart and will bless you. You will see.”

I swallowed and simply nodded.

Perhaps this was the last test for members wishing to join the Amish — supper with the Bishop’s family to dissect the candidates one last time. So as the men entered the kitchen, with Nathan and Benjamin nervous under the Bishop’s critical eye, I tried my best to show everyone all that I had learned and lived by.

I was quiet.

I prepared a plate for the Bishop before anyone else.

I kept my gaze solidly on my water glass unless spoken to.

I spoke softly.

I didn’t dare look up at Nathan although I could feel his eyes on me.

I could feel every eye on me.

“What do you plan for the spring, Nathan?” I heard the Bishop ask halfway through the meal.

“I hope to increase my crops for the spring,” he said, his voice timid. “Perhaps wheat this year, or soy.”

“How do you plan to do more when it is only you?” he asked.

Nathan cleared his throat and I could hear his fork slide on his plate.

“I have hope that I will not be alone come spring.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound that of chewing and forks along dishes.

“My son has his job at the mill. I do not see him offering much aid come spring.”

“No sir, I do not intend to rely on Benjamin to help in my tasks,” Nathan replied and cleared his throat again. “I hope to have my wife to help.”

Another awkward silence.

“And if you do not marry?” the Bishop asked. “You have hardly any stores for winter now. Jonah has taken your livestock to help you, but even he cannot support you.”

“I intend to marry, Bishop Yoder.”

I made the mistake of chancing a glance around the table, my eyes going wide at the scene.

Nathan stared intently at the Bishop who waged his own war glaring at me, while Benjamin looked to his mother for help. Naomi was the only smart one in the group, keeping her eyes on her peas as she pushed them around on her plate. Finally the Bishop’s wife let out a noise and placed a hand on her husbands arm, pulling his searing gaze from me.

“It is time for Nathan Fisher to marry. That house has seen its mourning. It is time to fill it with children once more,” she said and smiled my way. “Katherine Hill may have a past we do not know, but she has brought our son home and his friend back from a darkness that would have swallowed him. I look forward to spending time in the sewing circle with her.”

The Bishop turned his gaze slowly back toward me, his look an unreadable mask once more as he spoke.

“We shall see.”

I supposed that was better than outright denying me in front of his wife, but as we walked home that evening in the cool air, I couldn’t quite share in Nathan’s good mood. Benjamin sensed my reserve and placed a light hand on my shoulder as we walked, offering me his sympathetic smile. He knew his father, and what his words meant more than anyone.

A silent conversation passed between us, and I gained some solace in my friendship with Benjamin Yoder.

Once cast out.

Now Amish.

A good man returned to where he belonged.

He understood the path ahead of me.

And his path gave me renewed hope.

“You will see, Kate,” Nathan was saying as we took the steps up to the Berger house. “The council will decide next week in your favor. The Bishop’s wife likes you, and that means much.”

I simply nodded and smiled, inwardly wondering if I would have to always do that.

Nod and smile. Hold my tongue.

“Kate.”

I looked up to see Nathan’s deep gaze on me, a tender smile on his face. Benjamin slipped inside quietly while we stood on the porch, Nathan tipping my chin up so he could see me better.

“It will be all right,” he whispered. Leaning in he brushed his lips across mine, sighing when I his warmth enveloped me in an embrace. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were closed and he was grinning.

“Just think, in a week, we will be baptized and then I will marry you,” he said and opened his eyes, full of joy. “And then I will never have to walk away from you at night again.”

I hugged him fiercely, hoping that he was right.

Watching him leave every night was always the worst part of my day.

“I should go.”

I was reluctant to pull away from him, only doing so when Benjamin came outside again. He winked as he passed and waited just out of earshot, allowing Nathan to say his goodnight. One quick kiss and another reassurance, and Nathan joined him, waving to me before they made their way toward the hill, once again leaving me to stand alone as they disappeared into the night.

I stood there with my thoughts, the day’s events flashing through my mind in the cool night.

Nathan had hope.

Even when the Bishop threatened, he still held hope that I would soon be his wife.

If not, where would I go?

Since my escape that night, my life had taken a very different turn. While I couldn’t think of anywhere else I would rather be than amongst the Amish here in Iowa, I had to worry what would happen should I be denied. I had my sister, but that life in the city didn’t appeal to me as it once had a long time ago.

I felt safe here, Sean a fading memory.

As if to mock me, I heard the rustling of the chickens, a few angry squawks, and then silence. A shiver ran through me that wasn’t from the cold, thinking about the last time I heard the chickens upset. How long would it be until I forgot Sean, truly?

I looked out into the night, an unsettled feeling of being watched working through me. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, and the landscape looked barren in the dim light. Nothing moved and the chill crept in, forcing me to retreat inside, into the comfort of the warm home the Bergers had offered me.

In one week, I would learn my fate, and hopefully, put my past to rest and look forward to the future.

CHAPTER 14

Every day that drew closer to Sermon and the Council Meeting that would determine my fate, the more on edge I became. Every night I said good night to Nathan, I feared the next day would bring me closer to having to say goodbye forever. Regardless of the daily chores, and my visits with Nathan, I spent my nights thinking about the future. Most nights I slept restlessly and awoke from varying nightmares. Not even Nathan’s soft words at night could temper my fears. Every night closer to Sermon, the dreams grew more frantic.

I awoke with a start, the nightmare still playing in my mind. Sean, reaching for me. Nathan bloodied on the ground at my feet. Sean’s big hands grabbing, hurting me. A sheen of sweat chilled me as I tugged at my covers that had twisted around my legs while I had struggled to get away. I rubbed at my eyes, glancing at the window at the approaching dawn. An orange glow was already ghosting over the hill.

How had I slept so long?

I struggled out of bed, knowing I would be behind on my chores. I was running late enough to be asleep until sunrise. We rarely slept through dawn. It meant Nathan was already up and probably here already, which meant I missed the image of him as he walked from his home.

I stopped short of grabbing my dress at that thought.

The east was opposite of Nathan's hill, his face always lit by the sun ahead of him, not behind.

I rushed to the window, thinking my eyes were playing tricks with me in the dark.

The sun didn't rise over his hill; it set over his hill. But an orange glow flickered dimly over the rise, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on end. I knew that eerie glow from my last year in California when we had suffered from the brushfires from the drought inland.

"Fire."

My whisper jogged my frozen body into action, my feet propelling me out of my room in a flash, dress and shoes forgotten as I flew to Fannie’s and Jonah's room, knocking on the door frantically.

There was no time to waste.

"Jonah! Please! Wake up! Fire! There's a fire!" I cried out.

Their door flew open, Jonah in nothing but his underpants, eyes alert.

"What is this, Katherine?" he asked his voice rough from sleep.

"There's a fire over Nathan's hill! I can see it from my window. We have to hurry!" I cried and tugged him to my room, so that he could see. His eyes widened when he saw the glow, knowing what I did.

"You are right," he breathed and bolted for his room.

“What is wrong?” Abigail murmured, waking from the noise.

I couldn’t waste a second to explain. The glow was getting brighter. And I could hear a bell ringing.

"The bell is being sounded," I heard Fannie say from the room as I dashed down the stairs and through the door, barefoot and in only my shift as I bolted for the hill.

"Nathan," I panted as I dashed across the yard.

"Katherine! Wait!"

I couldn't wait, though. I ran at full speed, the worn ground cold and prickly under my bare feet. I crested the hill and gasped at what I saw.

The barn.

The front of it going up in flames. The two Haflingers were running in the field, their silhouettes dancing in the orange glow of the barn. I barreled down the hill, screaming Nathan's name in the hope that he was on the far side of the barn. I noticed movement by the house and heard the distinctive ringing of a bell, loud and cutting in the night, even over the cracking whoosh of the fire that leapt at the sides of the barn.

"Nathan!" I cried, rushing toward the water pump where I saw shadows. I stopped in a panic when I saw the Bishop and Naomi filling buckets.

"Where is Nathan?" I cried. "Where is Benjamin?"

"I heard shouting in the barn," Naomi whimpered and pulled the bucket out of the basin.

"In the barn?" I breathed and turned to look.

The front part of the barn was ablaze, the doors wide open. But the back looked to still be untouched. I sprinted to the back of the building, hearing the Bishop shout out after me. I reached the other sliding door by the paddock and struggled to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Nathan!"

"Kate!"

My heart clenched when I heard my name coming from inside, near the front of the barn.

"Nathan!" I screamed and ran to the other door, a single door on the side.

I reached for the handle, finding it chained shut.

"Kate! Get away!"

"Nathan! Where are you?" I cried and made my way around to the front of the barn, standing as close as I dared before the flames. I could just make out two people moving around inside.

Oh God, no!

"Katherine! Go and help Naomi with the water!" Bishop Yoder yelled beside me, flinging the water toward the doorway in an attempt to clear a path.

"They're in there, Bishop Yoder!" I cried, his arm pulling me back to the pump.

"I know, girl. Now help with the water or we cannot give them a clear path!" he hissed and shoved the empty bucket in my hand as he took the full one in Naomi's grip.

"Katherine!" I heard behind me, seeing Jonah and Fannie running toward us.

Behind them I could see more movement. People were coming to help. Women with their hair roughly tied back, men in pants and undershirts, hastily put on. The community was rushing to help.

"Katherine!" Fannie cried and threw a quilt over my body as Jonah grabbed my full bucket.

"Fill the buckets!" he yelled as more men began to form a fire brigade line with their buckets.

"They're in there!" I cried to Fannie, struggling to break free to the front of the line.

“Who?” she said, her worry apparent.

“Nathan and Benjamin!” I shouted over the noise as more men came to help, shouting orders.

"We will get them out, now help fill the buckets as they come," she said and reached for the buckets as they piled up.

I felt helpless as the men sloshed water on the ever-growing fire. I watched as Bishop Yoder disappeared around the side of the barn, coming back in a rush to shout over the noise.

"They are barred shut! Every door! Hurry! We must get them out!"

"Nathan," I breathed.

Something was terribly wrong. Sean’s name played in my mind in an instant.

My nightmares had turned to reality.

Somehow, he was here, and he had done this. Who else would see to barring the doors to the barn and doing harm to the one man I loved?

I turned and tore the quilt off of me, dunking it deep into the basin.

"Katherine, what are you doing?" Naomi cried out, but I didn't answer as I snatched the quilt and threw it around me, the weight of its wetness nothing to me. I felt it soak through my shift, glad for the bracing cold to knuckle down my nerve. I grabbed the full bucket in her hands and ran hard toward the opening of the barn.

"Katherine!"

"Wait! Stop her!"

I dodged past the man in the front, my bare feet sliding in the mud as I neared the doors. I wrapped myself up tight with my soaked quilt, covering everything that I could. The flames licked at the sides of the barn, and inside that I could see, but the floor was concrete and clear as I held my breath and leapt through the flames, my bucket of water streaming out before me.

It was insane, what I did.

But I knew that this was entirely my fault.

I couldn't let Nathan burn to death at the hands of Sean.