Going Home (14 page)

“That’s true,” Noah said as he made his way over to the table to get a cookie.

“I just hope Faith isn’t planning to leave again.” Wilma’s tone sounded resentful, and when Noah took a sideways glance, he saw her mouth quiver.

“What makes you think she’s aiming to leave? Have you come right out and asked if that’s what she’s planning to do?” Noah asked before he even had time to think.

Both women turned to look at him, and Noah’s face heated up. He scrubbed his hand across his chin, realizing he’d forgotten to shave that morning. “Sorry for butting into a conversation that was none of my business.”

“It makes no never mind,” Wilma said. “To answer one of your questions—I haven’t asked her outright because I’m afraid of what the answer will be.”

“But what makes you think she has leaving on her mind?” Noah persisted.

“I’ve caught her yodeling a few times when she didn’t think anyone was around.”

“But as we said earlier, others in our community yodel,” Noah’s mother said.

“True, but Faith knows her daed doesn’t like it, and besides, she’s been acting real strange since she and Melinda came to our place.”

“Strange? In what way?” Noah asked.

“She won’t make a decision to be baptized and join the church. Not even after talking with the bishop. And she doesn’t seem the least bit interested in reading her Bible.” Wilma drew in a deep breath and released it with a groan. “A smart mamm knows when her daughter’s trying to pull the wool over her eyes.”

Noah felt as if his heart had sunk clear to his toes. He was just beginning to get acquainted with Faith and had hoped she’d be sticking around.

“I think what Faith needs is a little encouragement—a reason to want to stay in Webster County. Don’t you think so, Noah?” Mom asked as she reached for her iced tea.

Noah nodded, then glanced over at Faith’s mother. “Would it help if I had a talk with Faith—maybe tried to become her friend?”

Wilma smiled, and so did Mom. “That’d be real good,” they said at the same time.

In that moment, Noah made a decision. If Faith had any thoughts of leaving and had no plans to join the church, then he
would do all he could to help her see the need for God as well as her family. He was glad he’d spoken to Hank this morning about taking Faith and Melinda to see the tree farm on Saturday.

“Guess I’ll go out for that walk now,” he said, turning to face his mother. “So I might be late getting home for supper.”

“No problem,” she replied. “Take all the time you need, and if you’re not back in time for supper, your daed and I will just have a sandwich.”

As Faith stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot of chicken broth, she thought about her lack of cooking skills and hoped the meal she was making would turn out all right. She’d been left in charge of fixing supper while Mama ran some errands. Grace Ann and Esther were in the garden picking peas, which would be added to the steaming broth. The dumpling dough had already been mixed, and Melinda and Susie were busy setting the table.

A knock at the door startled Faith, and she nearly dropped the wooden spoon into the broth.

“I’ll get it,” Melinda offered.

A few seconds later, Faith heard the back door creak open. When she turned from the stove, she was surprised to see Noah holding his straw hat in one hand.

“Look who came to visit, Mama,” Melinda motioned to Noah.

“If you came to see Papa or one of the brothers, they’re out in the barn.” Susie placed a glass on the table and moved over to where Noah and Melinda stood near the kitchen door.

“Actually it’s you I’m here to see,” Noah said, patting Melinda on top of her head. “You and your mamm.” His gaze shifted to Faith.

“What do you need to see me and my daughter about?”

Noah took a few steps toward her. “I—uh—wanted to tell you that I arranged with my boss to give you and Melinda a tour of the Christmas tree farm this Saturday. Would you be able to go then?”

Melinda bounced up and down. “Yes! Yes! The Christmas tree farm! Can we go, Mama? Can we, please?”

“Well, I—”

“Me, too?” Susie begged. “I’ve never been to the tree farm before.”

Noah looked down at Susie and smiled. “You, too, if it’s okay with your mamm.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be. I’ll go outside and see if she’s home yet.” Susie raced out the back door.

“How about it, Faith?” Noah asked. “Can I come by on Saturday morning around ten o’clock?”

Faith pursed her lips, uncertain how to reply. She didn’t want to disappoint Melinda or Susie. But did she really want to spend several hours in the company of a man who confused her thinking and made her hands feel clammy every time he came near? She’d been through all those giddy feelings with Greg and wasn’t about to set herself up for that again. She didn’t need a man. She’d had one before, and look how that had turned out. Sure, Greg had gotten her plenty of shows, but it had been for his own selfish gain, not because he loved Faith and wanted her to succeed.

“We could take along a picnic lunch and have a meal at one of the tables under the maple tree in front of Sandy’s Gift Shop,” Noah suggested.

“Who’s Sandy?” Faith questioned, as she brought her thoughts back to the present.

“Hank’s wife. She runs a little store in one half of their barn, and she sells everything from peanut brittle to pot holders.”

“Sounds like an interesting place. If it had been there when I was a girl, I’m sure I would have wanted to visit.”

He grinned. “Popping into the gift store from time to time is an added bonus to working at the tree farm. I’ve even donated some of my baked goods for Sandy to share with her customers.” Noah grabbed a handful of napkins from the wicker basket in the center of the table and folded each one, then placed them beside the plates.

Is this man for real? Greg was never so helpful
. Faith shook her head and mentally scolded herself for comparing Noah to her deceased husband. It was pointless to do so. She would be leaving soon, and besides, she didn’t know if Noah was merely putting on an act.

The back door collided with the wall as Susie raced into the room, her forehead glistening with sweat and her cheeks flushed like ripe cherries. “Mama just got home, and she says I can go with you to the tree farm on Saturday.”

“Yippee!” Melinda grabbed her aunt’s hands, and the girls jumped up and down like a couple of hopping toads.

“Now hold on a minute,” Noah said, shaking his head. “Faith hasn’t agreed to go yet.”

The children stopped their exuberant jumping and stared up at Faith with expectant expressions. She lifted one hand in defeat. “Okay. We’ll go to the Christmas tree farm.”

“Yeah!” Melinda grabbed Susie and gave her a hug.

“You’d better get busy and fill those water glasses.” Faith pointed to the table.

Noah turned toward the door. “Guess I’d best be getting on home.”

“Why don’t you stay for supper?” Faith asked, without thinking. She wasn’t sure she wanted Noah, the good cook, to sample anything she had made. But she had extended the invitation, so she couldn’t take it back now.

Noah pivoted around to face her, a smile as wide as the Missouri River spreading across his now-clean-shaven face. “It’s nice of you to offer, and since my mamm’s only planning to make sandwiches for supper, I’m sure she won’t miss me.” With that, Noah plunked his hat on a wall peg, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and sauntered back across the room. “What can I do to help?”

Faith pointed to the salad fixings on the counter. “Guess you can whip up a green salad if you’ve a mind to.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said with a nod.

Faith turned back to the stove. She had a feeling tonight’s meal would be better than most.

As Noah sat at the Stutzmans’ table a short time later, he was
glad he’d decided to stop by their place. He was being treated to some fine chicken and dumplings, not to mention such good company. Eating with Mom and Pop every night was all right, but Noah really enjoyed the fellowship of the Stutzmans—from Menno right down to Melinda, the youngest child present. It made him wonder what it might be like if he had a wife and children of his own. Of course, that was nothing but a foolish dream. He didn’t think any woman would want a shy man with a big nose who liked to cook. At least, that’s what Noah’s brother Rube had told him many times. Mom said Rube was only kidding, but truth be told, Noah figured his older brother was probably right.

“Noah, would you like to join me out in the living room for a game of checkers?”

Menno’s question pulled Noah from his musings, and he pushed away from the table. “I might take you up on that after I help with the dishes.”

Menno’s forehead creased as he shook his head. “Are you daft? Nobody volunteers to do dishes.”

Noah glanced at Faith, who sat to his left, and said, “I just ate a tasty supper, so it’s only right that I show my appreciation by helping out.”

“You already helped by fixing the salad and setting the table,” Faith reminded him.

He shrugged. “I help my mamm do the dishes most every night.”

Faith slid her chair back and stood. “Okay. I’ll wash, and you dry.”

“It’s good Noah was able to join us for dinner, jah?” Menno said to Wilma, as he set up the checkerboard in the living room and she lit a few of their kerosene lamps.

She nodded and smiled. “Couldn’t have planned it better myself.”

“Want me to plant a few ideas in Noah’s head while we’re playing checkers?”

“What kind of ideas?”

He lifted a folding chair from behind the sofa and snapped it open. “You know—about him getting together with Faith.”

Wilma shook her head. “I don’t think you want to be that obvious, husband.”

“Why not? I don’t see any point in beating around the shrubbery, do you?”

She lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. “Maybe you could just mention how nice it is to have Faith home and how we’re hoping she’ll get baptized and join the church real soon.”

His eyebrows scrunched together. “How’s that gonna get ’em together?”

“It probably won’t, but it’s a start.” Wilma lit the lamp closest to the table where he’d set out the checkerboard. “Would you like me to stay in the room and direct your conversation?”

Menno grunted. “No way! I’ll be better off on my own with this. Besides, if you’re in the room talking to Noah and asking a bunch of questions, it’ll throw my concentration off, and he
might win the game.”

Wilma pinched his arm and turned toward the door leading to their bedroom. “I’ll be in our room reading a book in case you need me.” She hurried from the room before he could respond.

A few minutes later, Noah showed up with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“How’d everything go in the kitchen?” Menno asked, motioning for Noah to take a seat in the folding chair opposite him.

“It went fine. Got the dishes washed, dried, and put away.”

“I still don’t see why you’d want to get your hands all wrinkled in soapy dishwater.”

Noah seated himself. “I’ve been helping my mamm in the kitchen since I was a kinner, and I’m used to having dishpan hands.”

“Whatever you say.” Menno nodded toward the checkerboard. “You go first.”

“I don’t mind if you’d like to start the game.”