Abigail's New Hope (29 page)

“That Ruth had been advised never to have
kinner
—that any pregnancies would endanger her life.” He stared at the ceiling, unable to meet her eye.
Patricia Daly is wrong. Voicing the words doesn’t get any easier
. “Ruth did it to make me happy, to give me a son.”

“You can’t blame Abraham for his
mamm
’s death. He’s an innocent baby!”

“I know that. I don’t hold anything against him.” Fog lifted from part of his brain. “Is that why you have been so pushy about my son? You thought I was still taking this out on him?” He shook his head back and forth like a stubborn nag. “I don’t pick him up much because my hands are too rough and clumsy. I’m afraid I might hug him too tightly or lose my grip and drop the little fella. I stand in the doorway of his room so I can listen while he sleeps. I hear his sighs and tiny snores and know he’s all right. I’m not good with
boppli
, Aunt Iris.” He pushed away his plate. “Remember the other day when you made me feed him? I ended up with more formula down the back of my shirt than in his belly. But I promise you—when he’s older and I don’t feel like such a goat in a gift shop, I will be the best
daed
around. I’ll make you proud.”

Iris folded her hands, softness returning to her gentle brown eyes. “I know you will, but you shouldn’t blame yourself either about Ruth. She wanted
kinner
as much as you did. Amish women are raised to assume that someday they will marry and have a houseful of little ones. When God has other plans, the news is hard for a woman to accept.”

“She might have accepted it easier if I hadn’t been hounding her. I took her to see an herbalist who made her drink four cups of bad-smelling tea per day. Next I took her to a chiropractor to straighten her spine, hoping that would help. Then I made her ask advice from a woman in our district who had borne fifteen children.
Fifteen
. I just couldn’t let the matter drop. Finally, we drove to the city for a full examination and series of tests. Ruth never told me the final results, but when she said she was in a family way, I assumed they had fixed whatever had been wrong.”

They sat listening to the hum of the propane refrigerator for a minute or two.

“I know you feel guilty, but you need to overcome these feelings. If she were here, she would say she forgives you. Maybe returning to church or talking to the bishop will help you—”

Couldn’t she give it a rest? His aunt was like a bulldog with a firm grip on one end of a stick. “No church, no talking to the elders, no rehashing this sad tale anymore. I’m tired of repeating the details. It doesn’t do a bit of good. Leave me be on this matter. In time I’ll heal on my own, if that’s what you insist on calling it.”

“No.”

It was just a one-word answer, delivered without exclamation or frenetic gesture, but the arrow hit its target. Nathan stared at her, fear creeping up his back. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’ll not
leave you be
on this matter. If you don’t want to go to preaching or talk to one of the brethren that’s your choice, but I won’t make it easy for you to wallow in your grief and self-pity. If you don’t do something to pull yourself together, then I’m leaving. I’m going home to my own family, who appreciate my counsel. I’ll take Abraham if you’ll permit me, but either way, I’m putting you on notice, Nathan Fisher.”

One small, gray-haired grandmother brought goose bumps to his forearms. He inhaled a strangled breath. “Okay, I’ll start praying… praying for real. And I’ll open my Bible tonight.”

She studied him for any hint of insincerity, and then she shrugged her shoulders. “All right. I’m going to feed Abraham and get him up for the day.”

Nathan marched from the house to his fields, feeling mule-kicked.
What an insistent, pushy woman! She’s not my
mamm
and has no right issuing ultimatums. If she decides to return home, Abraham and I will get by. Or I’ll pack up and return to Indiana. Breaking a lease isn’t against the law. I’ll find some way to pay the landlord
.

For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, he fumed and pouted. But when his pique waned, he turned his eyes toward the heavens. A flock of geese had drawn his attention. Or the heavy clouds had suddenly given way to sunshine. For whatever reason, Nathan Fisher began to pray. He was rusty at first, but after a while his heart began to swell with emotion and then anticipation. Tonight, after supper and chores, away from interruptions, he would open his Bible and see what would happen.

Catherine’s emotions ran the gamut for the next several days. She vacillated between sheer joy that someone
finally
was in love with her to fear that Daniel would put a stop to the fledgling relationship, and then to shame that this would somehow lead to disappointment and further alienation for Isaiah.

But wasn’t he a grown man, not a child, and as such capable of giving and receiving affection? Yet each night as she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, anxiety sat heavily on her heart. Was she breaching Daniel’s trust by sneaking around behind his back? The fact was that she knew little about his cousin other than the man couldn’t hear. Was there another reason for his avoidance of people? Along with the first rays of dawn came the realization that she needed advice before this romance proceeded any further. Second-guessing only went so far. At times like these a woman needed her big sister. Jail or no jail, Catherine had to talk to Abby.

Of course, Daniel saw no reason for an in-person visit. “A letter would work just as well,” he said. “I haven’t got time to take you. I should cut hay while the good weather holds. Maybe in a few weeks, once all the hay is stored away.” He finished his bowl of berries and ice cream, licking the spoon for the final drop.

Catherine couldn’t afford to wait even a few weeks, so she considered her reply carefully. “I’m in need of her advice about…womanly matters. There’s no need to interrupt your work. I’m capable of driving a buggy by myself. With a county road map I can leave at first light and be in Wooster by the start of visiting hours.” She lifted her chin higher. “I’ll park behind the courthouse in the back parking lot, where you tied up.”

She might have asked to travel alone to Missouri, judging by his reaction. Daniel listed no less than ten things that could go wrong on her trip, but Catherine countered each with a logical solution. All except, “You might suffer from heat stroke and faint behind the reins. Then the horse might take you far in the wrong direction.”

That one had left her speechless, as she’d never known heat stroke in her life. In the end, he agreed to her solo visit as long as she traveled by hired van at his expense. Avoiding a long ride on dusty roads in heavy traffic was fine with her.

On Sunday the van picked her up at eleven thirty and dropped her in front of the Justice Center by twelve fifteen. The driver promised to return at two after finishing some errands in Wooster. She sat on a hard bench for forty-five minutes, contemplating how to broach the topic of Isaiah with Abby.
Englischers—
some well dressed, some not—passed by without paying her any attention. By one o’clock, the start of visitation hours, a crowd had gathered in the hallway. When a guard opened the heavy metal door, people formed a line before him. Catherine joined the queue, not knowing what to expect. One by one, the officer checked the ID of visitors against the list provided by each inmate.

“Catherine Yost,” she stated when her turn came. “I’d like to see Abigail Graber.” The balding man flipped through his binder of papers, and for a moment she feared Abby hadn’t added her name to the list.

Then with a nod he said, “Thirty minutes, Miss Yost. You’ll find your sister seated far to the right.” After thanking the guard, Catherine entered the overly air-conditioned room filled with inmates and their family members. She located her sister easily, but she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Abby wore a drab olive green shirt with matching trousers, both several sizes too large. Although her hair had been bound in a traditional bun, she wore no
kapp
for modesty. And she had on the same battered tennis shoes she usually wore in the garden.

But her appearance was far more unsettling than her English clothes. Abby must have lost fifteen pounds since her arrest. And she hadn’t needed to lose an ounce. Gaunt and hollow cheeked, her chin jutted at a harsh angle. Her peaches-and-cream complexion had washed out to the color of unbleached sheets. Dark circles and deep lines ringed her still striking blue eyes.

Catherine’s shock must have been apparent. “Don’t look so worried,” said Abby. “I am fine, truly. It might not be the same as
mamm
’s home cooking, but the food is good here.” Abby gestured toward the empty chair across from her.

“Then why aren’t you eating any of it?” asked Catherine, once she was seated.

Abby giggled. “My appetite has abandoned me. I start eating but fill up quickly.” When she smiled, Abby looked more like her old self. “It’s good to see you, Cat. Is Daniel here, waiting out in the hallway?”

Catherine reached out to grasp her hand. “It’s good to see you too. I have missed you, as have your children. But no, Daniel had to cut hay today. It’s ready, and by midweek we’re supposed to get heavy rains. I came by hired van.”

If Abby’s heart was breaking, she hid it well. “That’s good. We’ll have the entire half hour to ourselves.”

Catherine stole a glance around the room. Faded torn jeans, bright tattoos, work boots, motorcycle ad T-shirts, flannel shirts in the height of summer heat—the attire of
Englischers
resembled what she saw at Saturday afternoon flea markets. She turned back to her sister with a shudder.

“It’s not that bad. Everyone has been very nice to me. Sometimes the women ask some nosy questions…” The corners of Abby’s mouth turned up. “But they don’t mean any harm. They’re curious, that’s all. Everybody wants to know what an Amish woman did to land in here.”

Abby sounded matter-of-fact, almost casual about the matter. Catherine stared at her. “When are you coming home? Your
kinner
miss you so much. Not that they’re not well. I don’t want you to worry, but they miss their
mamm
. If you can come home, at least until your trial, they’ll be overjoyed. After that, this whole business will be settled. Mr. Fisher knows you did nothing wrong and holds nothing against you.”

Abby’s smile faded. “I see Daniel has been explaining things his way. God’s will shall be done at my trial. That’s all we can hope for.” Abby gazed around the room as though they were discussing someone else.

“I will pray for you every night,” Catherine said, with growing uneasiness.

“
Danki
, but I don’t want to harp about my troubles. I wrote you a full update and mailed the letter yesterday. Let’s not waste our precious time by chewing our food twice.”

“You don’t wish to talk about your situation?”

“No, I don’t. Tell me about my children. What have they been up to? I hope they have been minding their aunt.” A ghost of a smile appeared, revealing a bit of her former self. “And then tell me about yourself. How are you faring in my home? Is Daniel critical or too demanding? I’m afraid I have spoiled him over the years.”

“Oh, no. He’s been quite agreeable once we got past the first couple days, even when I overcook his eggs or burn the biscuits. And your children—they make me long to marry and have some of my own.”

Abby’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Is Laura helping you in the garden? I hope you’re not letting Jake stay up too late. He loves to creep out of bed and play with his building blocks with a flashlight.”

Catherine arched an eyebrow. “I’ll be sure to double check he’s still in bed before I go to my room. I thought he’d fallen asleep quickly, like a little angel.
Danki
for the warning.” She relaxed against the chair. “You would have been so proud of Laura. When we went to the pond next door, she asked Isaiah to teach her to swim. Because she had no fear of the water, she caught on quickly. Soon she was floating on her back without anyone holding her up. Jake and I played in the shallow water, and he built a sand castle of sorts. He turned brown as an eggshell by day’s end. And because Isaiah had ridden his mare to the pond that afternoon, Laura became intrigued with horseback riding, especially bareback. At first Daniel said she was too young to learn, but after some convincing he changed his mind. That very evening Isaiah let her ride in the ring on his gentle horse. She clung to the saddle horn and reins while I led the horse around with a rope. Isaiah held her in the saddle because her legs couldn’t quite grip the mare’s flanks.” Catherine drew in a deep breath before continuing her update. “Then, after we sent them inside to get ready for bed, Isaiah took me on a short ride down the pasture trace. I must say I liked it much more than I did when we were young.”