Fearless Hope: A Novel (16 page)

“Doesn’t Elizabeth mind using her house for this?”

“You don’t know my grandmother,” Grace said. “She comes over and spends part of each day sitting here chatting with the women who come to see us and handing out advice right and left. She’s in her element and feels like her home is being used for something important.”

“Are you seeing
Englisch
patients, too?”

“No.”

This was a surprise to Hope. “Why not?”

“We would never be able to afford the insurance on this
place if we accepted
Englisch
patients. The chance of a lawsuit with non-Amish people is simply too great. It would take only one lawsuit to shut us down. We trust the Amish and Mennonite women of this area not to take us to court. It’s against their beliefs. That’s why Claire and I can afford to charge really modest rates. If we had to insure this place, we could never have afforded to open it.”

“Well.” Hope picked up her purse. “I am glad you are doing this. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, sweetie, you know I don’t charge my family.”

“Then you will not get rich around here,” Hope joked as she reached into her purse. “We’re pretty much all related, and I do have a job now.”

“I’m serious.” Grace put out a hand to stop Hope from handing her cash. “There are plenty of pregnant women around here with husbands who can afford to pay our fees. I’m not charging a widow with small children for the honor of helping her through her pregnancy. I know it is hard to go through this without your husband at your side, but I hope that knowing Claire and I will see you through it helps a little.”

“It grieves my heart not to have Titus here to see our new little one, but having you and Aunt Claire so close does help a lot. I can pay you for the vitamins?”

“You can pay me for the vitamins,” Grace said. “Next visit.”

Hope closed her purse. “Levi made a good choice when he married you.”

“Even though I was
Englisch
?” Grace teased.

Hope smiled. “Even though you were
Englisch
.”

As she left, it struck her that both were speaking in the past tense, as though Grace was no longer
Englisch
, even though neither she nor Levi were exactly Amish. What were they now? It was a great puzzle. She suspected that it was a puzzle to Levi and Grace as well. Where did one go to church after coming
from such different backgrounds? She was grateful that she did not have to make that decision.

In the meantime, the big news was that all was well with her and her child. The baby’s heartbeat was strong. She felt physically well. Grace continued to offer her services for free—which was a great blessing, and she was beginning to feel that she had a good friend in her cousin’s wife.

She did not want to take Grace’s services for granted, and had saved back part of her salary just in case her cousin’s wife decided to charge her this time. Now that she had a little extra money, she considered stopping at the Scratch ’n’ Dent store up the road and stocking up on what groceries she could find there.

The only problem was, Abimelech and his older children ran that store, and she was trying her best to avoid him. That was a sacrifice, because sometimes she found good bargains there.

Every Amish woman in the Holmes County area worth her salt had her favorite Scratch ’n’ Dent store. They were discreetly tucked away in various hollows and hills all over the area along back roads, usually where no one would think to look. The Amish knew where to look, though, and many grateful local mothers frequented these stores and filled their buggies with good deals.

It was sometimes a challenge to use up everything before the expiration date came around—but it was worth it in savings. Today, however, she could not make herself face the possibility of seeing Abimelech again. She did not know for certain if the bishop had talked with him yet, and it would be exceedingly uncomfortable if there was no one else in the store and she had to shop with him staring at her.

Even though her buggy ride home took her straight past his store, she decided to not stop in. She would simply spend a little extra money at Walmart in a couple of days when her mother
and aunt shared the cost of a van to go do their weekly shopping. They always invited her and the children to go along.

Unfortunately, she was not able to get past Abimelech’s store without him seeing her. He was outside, stacking boxes in front, and waved her down.

She was too well trained in politeness not to stop. He seemed happy to see her, and acted as though their conversation at Logan’s house had not happened.

“It has been a long time since you have been in the store.” He put a foot on the bottom step of her buggy and leaned toward her. He had been working hard and sweat droplets had collected on his forehead. In the bright sunlight, she could see the large pores on his nose, and the discoloration of his teeth. She did not hold his lack of beauty against him, but she could not help recoiling a bit.

“I—I have been very busy,” she said.

“Too busy cleaning an
Englisch
man’s house.” His voice held contempt.

“Ja.”
Her back straightened. “I have been cleaning two houses, my employer’s and my own. Plus I have been caring for two children.”

“And what were you doing down at Grace and Claire’s clinic?” His eyes dropped to her stomach and lingered.

She gasped. The man really was too much. At five months, she knew she was showing—but he did not have to stare!

“That is none of your business.” She clicked her tongue at the horse and tried to leave. Abimelech grasped the reins and held the horse back.

“I have a gift for you and your children,” he said. “Some overstock. The truck brought too much. I will load up the back of your buggy with some extra food.”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s a gift, Hope. You and your children have to eat and I
doubt the Parker man is paying you all that well.” His voice took on that cunning sound again. “Or is he?”

She lifted her chin. “I make a modest salary.”

“Modest.” He let loose of the reins. “Don’t be foolish, Hope. There’s no need to turn this food down. Just keep the buggy still, and I’ll put these boxes in.”

“I will pay.”

“It is a gift.”

“I will pay,” she insisted.

He ignored her and loaded several boxes of canned and boxed goods into her buggy. “There. That should keep you and the children filled up for now.”

“How much?” She fumbled for her purse, hoping she had enough cash to pay for all those boxes.

“Like I said. It is a gift. From a widower to a widow.” With that, he left her sitting there and went back inside. Unless she followed him inside, which she did not want to do, she had no choice but to leave with the boxes.

All the way home, she thought of things she could have and should have said to him. The man made her skin crawl these days, and she was suspicious of his sudden generosity—from a man who her father had once said was so parsimonious that if a fly accidentally landed in his milk, he would demand the fly spit out whatever it had drunk.

Yet for all she knew, today he was simply trying to be kind. She had been trained by her gentle mother to give people the benefit of the doubt, and she tried to give Abimelech the benefit of the doubt as she drove home.

She also tried to give Abimelech the benefit of the doubt while she carried the boxes of canned goods into her home and began stacking them on the table so she could see what she had gotten.

It was only after she had laboriously unloaded every last can
and box and was beginning to place them on her pantry shelves that she thought to check the expiration dates.

What she discovered was insufferable. Her father once said that Abimelech’s new venture of selling damaged goods was a good fit for the man’s personality. But even she was surprised to find out that every last can and box had passed its expiration date by at least three months.

Abimelech had given her things he had pulled off the shelf and had probably intended to throw away until he saw her trotting by. Was he paying her back for refusing him? Or was this his strange attempt to court her? Either way, she was stuck with having to dispose of a pantry’s worth of items most people would not feel safe eating. Especially not a pregnant woman with small children!

Being a young widow was turning out to be a whole lot more complicated than even she had imagined.

“A
nd how is this job of yours going?” Ivan Troyer had a scythe in his hand, evidently intending to clear beneath the split-rail fence that separated his field from Logan’s backyard.

Hope had known Ivan Troyer and his wife, Mary, for as long as she had been alive. She had grown up with their children, played inside their house, and hunted Easter eggs in their backyard. Even though Ivan and his wife had become Mennonites several years earlier, their families had always been supportive of one another.

“It is going well enough.” She pegged the last wet sheet and dried her hands on her apron.

“Is my new neighbor treating you well?” Ivan chopped at some weeds beneath the fence.

“He is. Have you met him?”

“Not yet. I wasn’t sure if someone from New York would welcome a visit. Many city people want to keep to themselves. I was afraid he might get annoyed if I just showed up. I had hoped he would make the first move and drop by.”

Ivan had never had any neighbors from the city that she knew of. “How do you know city people are like that?”

“Our youngest told us. Helda had to move from Sugarcreek
to Chicago last month with her new husband. It was because of his job. She says none of her neighbors seem all that anxious to speak to her.”

“Oh, I am so sorry that Helda had to move.” Hope placed a comforting hand on Ivan’s arm. This was indeed terrible news. The worst things besides sickness, death, or having a loved one leave the church, was having family move far away. “I had not yet heard. How is Mary taking it?”

“Crying her eyes out some days, on other days accepting it as the Lord’s will.”

His light blue eyes looked off into the distance, and his chin trembled slightly. For the first time since Hope had known him, Ivan looked old to her.

She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “I will come visit with Mary soon.”

“She would like that,” he said. “We still have Caleb, William, Charlotte, and Leah living nearby, plus their spouses and all the grandchildren—but having Helda move so far away still hits hard.”

Hope truly sympathized.
She could not imagine living in a world where she could not go visit her
Maam
and younger siblings several times a week.

“Helda cried so hard when they left. We are praying that they will find a good Mennonite church to attend soon. At least then we will know that there is someone close who will help them if there is need.”

“I shall add that to my prayers, as well,” Hope promised.

“Sometimes I think . . .” He hesitated, as though unsure whether or not to say what was in his heart.

“Ja?”

“If only the other . . . terrible trial had not happened to our family. Perhaps Mary would be a different person now. Stronger maybe.”

“Your family has endured great tragedy with much faith,” Hope said. The sad business had been many years ago, but it was easy to see that it still affected Ivan and Mary. “How is Esther doing since Helda’s move?”

“Mother?” Ivan smiled. “My mother does as she always does about everything . . . she prays. Even with her painful joints, she gets down on the floor beside her bed every day and prays that Helda’s husband will find a job that will bring them back here where they belong.”

“I will pray extra hard as well, and I will write to Helda. Maybe that will help her with homesickness.”

“That would please her so much.” Ivan pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. Then the twinkle in his eyes that she knew so well returned. “Or it will make Helda even more homesick than ever to hear from you.”

Hope laughed. “I will tell her all the bad things I can think of. Including the fact that you are as lazy as ever—allowing your fencerows to get in such bad shape.”

“That is true,” Ivan agreed. “I should be horsewhipped for my lazy ways.”

For years, it had been a running competition and joke between Ivan and her father to see which of them could keep the cleaner farm. Both were excellent farmers and they vied constantly to see who could make the straightest furrows, Henry with his team of horses, or Ivan with his old blue Ford tractor.

“Speaking of fencerows,” Ivan said, “has your employer given any thought to what to do about the farm? It’s good for a field to lie fallow for a short while, but he’ll have scrub pine shooting up before he knows it if he doesn’t have someone come in and mow things down.”

“I do not think Logan thinks of these things. He seemed surprised when I told him that come spring, he will have to buy a lawn mower.”

“What does the man do for a living?” Ivan asked.

“He’s a writer,” Hope said.

“Him and every other person I meet in this county these days.” Ivan laughed. “Ever since writers discovered the Amish, everyone wants to write about our people—including our own people. I heard the other day that Carlisle Printing over in Walnut Creek can hardly keep up with the new demand.”

“Are there not other printing places for our people to use?”

“None that I know of that will accept a manuscript written out in longhand.” Ivan put on a mock-serious face. “I have been thinking about publishing Mary’s shopping lists she’s let pile up over the years. I’d call it
A Mennonite Woman Buys Toilet Paper and Eggs
. Caleb’s eldest girl could illustrate it. I think tourists would probably buy it in droves and make us rich.”

“I would not bank on that project succeeding.” Hope giggled. “And our Amish ways are not what Logan Parker is writing about.”

“Oh? What is he writing?”

“I think he is writing a war book.”

Ivan’s eyebrows rose. “A war book!”

“I am afraid so. He has been talking with old soldiers.”