Fearless Hope: A Novel (11 page)

He came back out with three glasses and a plate of cookies.

“Grace made these,” he warned. “I’m not guaranteeing anything. She’s still learning.”

“How are things going between the two of you?”

“We still have an occasional bump in the road, but the
thing that we were having the most problems over has been resolved.”

“And what was that?”

“It was her insistence on working at the Pomerene Hospital ER after the baby came. I did not think it would be good for our family for her to work so far from home and be gone from our daughter for so many hours. She felt like I was trying to control her. We could not find a way to agree.”

“And now?”

“Grace’s grandmother, Elizabeth, solved the problem for us when she moved into my old apartment at the farm and turned the house over to us for this clinic. It was entirely her idea. She pointed out to my mother that going into partnership with an experienced nurse-practitioner would greatly enhance the quality of safety she could provide for the women she cared for as a midwife. Then Elizabeth sold Grace on the idea of how important this work could be to the women of this area.” He took a sip of lemonade. “I kept my mouth shut, let the women sort it out. I built whatever they wanted me to build, and remodeled whatever they wanted me to remodel. My stepfather, Tom, has been a big help.”

“Aunt Claire seems happy in her new marriage.”

“Tom is good to her, to all of us. Ever since he came back to Holmes County, got back in touch with his Amish roots, and married my mother, things have gotten a lot better around here.”

“Do you ever miss being Amish? Do you ever regret leaving?”

“I don’t regret leaving the Swartzentrubers. Their
Ordnung
was so restrictive I felt like I was in a straitjacket.” He drained his glass and tossed the ice cubes over the porch railing. “We’ve started visiting some of the Mennonite churches around here. I’m trying to see if there is one where Grace can fit in and feel comfortable.”

“You’ve given up a lot to be with her,” Hope said. “You must love her very much.”

“She’s my other half.”

For some reason, that statement hit her hard and she had to fight to hold back the tears. It was like this for her sometimes. Her loss would suddenly, and completely, overwhelm her.

“Hope,” Levi said, “I’m so sorry. I know it hurts having Titus gone.”

“There is pain.” She put an arm around Carrie. “But we are making it through. Carrie helped me clean house for the
Englischer
who purchased my parents’ home. She is turning into a big girl.”

“And a good worker.”

“Yes.” Hope wiped her eyes, nibbled the edge of one of Grace’s cookies, swallowed, and laid the uneaten cookie down on the porch swing where she and Carrie were sitting. The taste had been a shock.

“Not so good, huh?” he said.

She tried to be diplomatic. “It could use a bit more sugar.”

“Grace is on a mission to eliminate sugar from our diet.” He took a tentative bite, made a face, and put it back on the plate. “Yes, that is about what I was expecting. Sorry.”

As she rose to go, Hope reached over and covered Levi’s hand with her own. “I am happy for your happiness, Cousin.”

“If you need anything done around your house, you know you can call me.”

“Yes,” she said. “And knowing that makes my mind much lighter.”

Their short visit over, she trotted her horse down the lane to the main road, and Levi went back to fixing his steps. The short visit had done her a world of good. She felt sorry for anyone who lived in a place where they had no family.

H
ope was appalled to see Abimelech Yoder drive into Logan’s yard while she and Carrie were sweeping the porch.

“What a
gut
mother!” the widower said, climbing down out of his buggy.

“Abimelech!” she said. “What are
you
doing here?”

“You are not glad to see me?” He sounded hurt. “I was driving past. I saw your buggy and wished to speak with you.”

“But why here?” she said. “I saw you at church only this past Sunday.”

“It is difficult to talk with you privately when you are surrounded by others.” He nervously tugged at his beard, a habit which she’d noticed was getting worse lately.

“I apologize, but I have much work to do.” She busily resumed sweeping the dead leaves that had fallen onto the porch, hoping he would take the hint and go away.

The fact that he had come to her employer’s house uninvited was a little frightening. She trusted the men of her church, but Abimelech had been staring at her so openly during their last fellowship meal that she felt quite nervous having him near her while she was alone.

Abimelech scowled. “I hear that some rich
Englisch
man bought your father’s farm and hired you to . . . keep house for him.”

She blushed. The term “keeping house” was a borderline term. It could mean that she was simply doing the man’s housework, or it could mean the unthinkable—that she had moved in and was living with him.

“I am employed to clean and cook,” she said. “He is rarely here.”

“And he pays you well for this . . . cooking and cleaning?”

Again—Abimelech’s voice sounded as though he was saying one thing and meaning another.

“Well enough that I have not had to take alms from Bishop Schrock in over a month.”

“If you married me, you would not have to take alms at all, nor would you have to work for this
Englisch
man in a house that should still belong to your family.”

She gasped at his blunt mention of marriage, then decided to ignore it. “My father allowed the sin of gambling into his life and lost the farm. It was for sale. The
Englischer
had a right to purchase it.”

She could not believe she was defending Logan to one of her own, but her employer had treated her kindly. He was innocent of her father’s failure. That was on her father’s shoulders.

There had even been a very nice bonus in the envelope Logan had left on the kitchen table last week!

“I am a good, steady worker with a large house and a roof that does not leak. My farm is productive. My children are under my control and not problem children. I am of your faith. I can help you raise your small children. You should quit this job and marry me.”

“I do not love you,” Hope said. “I will not marry you. It is that simple.”

Abimelech then did something that she would never have believed could happen back when he was simply her father’s friend who came to visit with his wife and children from time to time. Back when she was not much more than a child herself and paid little attention to the grown-ups. He allowed his eyes to look at her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet and then back up again. The look in his eyes was not love, it was something else, and the realization that he was not a good man made her flinch. The air around them seemed to become thick with an emotion that closed her throat and made her want to cover herself.

Thank goodness Carrie was with her. Had there not been an innocent witness in that little girl’s eyes, she wasn’t sure what Abimelech might have done or suggested.

The little girl was too young to understand what was going on, but Carrie’s sturdy little heart made her come take her mother’s hand and stand protectively beside her. Hope held tight to her broom with her other hand, wondering if she would have reason to use it as a weapon.

When her daughter moved to stand with her, Abimelech seemed to come to himself and had the grace to look away.

“I have been too long without a wife,” he muttered before walking away.

The minute he left the porch, she dropped the broom, picked Carrie up in her arms, and flew into the house, then locked all the outside doors. The lock on the back door had never worked properly, if one tried to secure it from the outside, but her father had installed a large screen-door lock-and-eye on the inside for securing the house after their family had all gone to bed. This she shoved down into place, and then collapsed into a kitchen chair.

If Titus were alive, Abimelech would have
never
dared look at her like that!

Carrie crawled onto her lap and hugged her neck. “I am scared,
Mommi.
”

“Oh, little one . . .” She smoothed back her daughter’s hair, realizing that she had frightened the child with her frenzied locking of doors.

“Abimelech would not hurt you . . . or me.” And then, because she tried very hard to always be honest with her children, she added, “At least, I hope not.”

“I will ask Grandpa to make him stay away from us,” Carrie said stoutly. “Everyone must obey Bishop Schrock.”

“That is true,” she soothed the little girl. “But let’s not worry about that now.”

Actually, the knowledge that Bishop Schrock and the other men of their church would not allow Abimelech to bother her if they knew that he had been inappropriate in his behavior was a comforting one. As was the knowledge that her father would have a few words to say to the man as well if she told him what happened.

She was not without resources to keep this man out of her life and would not hesitate to use them.

“I shall pray that he finds a wife, soon,” she said. “But that wife will not be me!”

•  •  •

Logan was surprised to find two buggies in his yard instead of only Hope’s. In fact, he was a little surprised to find her buggy there at all. Having her work for him was rather like employing a ghost. Hope had apparently adjusted her schedule to be gone whenever she thought he might be home. Sometimes he suspected that she turned around and went home whenever she saw his car at the house.

It was a bit of a surprise to see a strange Amish man tearing
past him, whipping his horse into a canter within seconds of leaving the driveway.

This was odd. He had not seen anyone here make a horse go faster than a quick trot while pulling a buggy. The man was obviously angry, and what on earth had he been doing at his house?

As he got out of his car, he was perplexed, curious, and more than a little concerned.

Finding his own back door locked, he knocked. This was highly unusual. He’d taken some pride in living in an area where doors could still be left unlocked. “Hope? Are you in there? It’s Logan. Please let me in.”

A flustered, embarrassed, red-faced Hope opened the door. It was apparent that she had been crying.

“Hope—what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I—I—”

“What happened here? Who was that man I saw?”

“Abimelech Yoder. He wants to marry me. And I refused him. That is all.”

Her embarrassment was almost too painful to watch.

“Abimelech Yoder.” He turned the name over in his mind. “He’s the man who just left?”

“Ja
. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I was just sweeping the porch when he came and started . . . proposing to me.”

“Wait a minute.” Logan felt immediately protective. “That man came onto my porch, uninvited, and frightened you?”

“He is a friend of my father’s,” Hope said. “He was used to coming and going at our home.”

“Except that it isn’t your home anymore. Doesn’t he realize that?”

“He knows, but he wanted to talk to me alone and he lives nearby.”

“Sit down.” Logan pulled a chair away from the table, took
her arm, and gently led her to it. He noticed that she was trembling.

It seemed so strange to have her actually sitting here. He had laid eyes on her only once since he’d hired her. All he ever saw of her was the evidence of her hard work.

The house was always clean these days, and it smelled amazing. Thanks to Hope, his house ran as much like clockwork as a house without electricity could run. He did
not
want to lose her, and he deeply resented the man who had so obviously upset her.

Now the lovely Amish housekeeper was sitting in his kitchen with tears shimmering in her eyes, and her little daughter looking on with concern, a miniature of her mother, same dark blue dress, same little
Kapp
, same bare feet.

“Can I fix you something? A cup of tea maybe?” That sort of thing sometimes helped Marla stop crying.

Hope choked out a laugh. “I think I am the one who is supposed to be getting the tea around here! I will be fine.”

“Right.” Logan turned on the stove, lit the burner, and placed the teakettle on it. “I’m going to take that as a ‘yes.’ Don’t get up. Let me take care of you for a change.”

At home in Manhattan, he would have simply put a cup of water in the microwave. Using the old-fashioned teakettle still gave him fresh pleasure each time. There was something about the process of actually boiling water for tea that he enjoyed.

“Here.” He poured the hot liquid over a tea bag, then placed it, a container of milk, and the sugar bowl in front of Hope. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

“Abimelech Yoder is a widower with eight children and a good farm.” She gave a deep sigh. “He and his older children also run a small store. He feels that he needs a wife. I am without
a husband and he thinks it would make good sense for me to marry him. He seems to be angry that I am refusing him.”

“How long has your husband been gone, Hope?”

“Two months now.”

“Only two months?”

“Ja.”

“You barely know your own name if it has only been two months. Let alone have someone trying to talk you into marriage! I’m surprised you can function at all. Are you sure you even feel like working here?”

“I have children. I
must
function.” She tilted her head and studied him. “You sound like a man who has known grief.”

He seldom talked about Ariela, but somehow, it felt right to confide in this Amish widow.

“I was married before. I loved her with all my heart.”

“What happened?”

“Leukemia.”

There was no need to say anything more. A world of explanation was attached to that one word.

“I am so very sorry! How did you stand it?”

“I was not terribly sane for the next couple of years. It took a long time for me to recover and sometimes I’m not entirely sure I ever did.”