The Farmer Next Door (6 page)

Janet continued, “If you are interested, I could post your yarn for sale on my website. I get a fair number of internet orders.”

“That would be
goot, danki.
” This was better yet.

Faith sorted her yarns for Janet and pocketed the money
with a happy heart. She was preparing to leave when Sarah came out from the back room. Smiling, Sarah came forward carrying several large bolts of powder-blue material. “Faith, how are you? Have you brought in your yarn?”

“
Ja.
Janet was kind enough to purchase several dozen skeins. If they sell well, she will buy more.”

Sarah leaned close. “I will do my best to steer our customers toward them.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I have been instructed by Nettie Sutter to invite you to our widow’s meeting on Friday night.”

Such meetings were common in Amish communities where widows sought to remain active and productive members of the community even into old age. Faith had been a member of such a group in her last church district.

As much as she wanted to say yes, Faith didn’t have time to devote to social visits. “Perhaps I can join you when I’ve settled in.”

“Fair enough. We are finishing two quilts that will be auctioned off next month. We help support an orphanage in Haiti with the money we raise and we give to the church to help our members who have medical bills and such. Several times a year we hold a large auction. Some of the women in our church have started a co-op to help members market and sell their work.”

“I’m not much of a hand at quilting,” Faith admitted.

“Don’t worry, we will find something for you to do. We meet at the home of Naomi Wadler. Her daughter and son-inlaw run the Wadler Inn and Shoofly Pie Café. You passed by it on your way in town. Naomi’s home is behind the inn.”

Faith remembered the Swiss-chalet-style inn at the edge of town. “What time are the meetings held?”

“Five o’clock.”

“I look forward to the day I can meet with you.”

“Wonderful. Have you decided to join our church?”

“I plan to ask the bishop about it soon.”

“I must warn you that once you are accepted, you will be fair game as far as Adrian’s mother is concerned.”

Perplexed, Faith asked, “Why do I need a warning about his mother?”

“
Aenti
Linda fancies herself a matchmaker. Adrian and I are her only current failures. I admit she does have a knack for putting the right people together. You will provide her a new challenge. Hopefully, I can get a break from chance meetings and uncomfortable suppers at her house where I feel like a prize hen on display.”

Faith shook her head. “She may match-make all she wants. I have no intention of marrying again.”

“That is exactly what Adrian says.”

Faith began to rearrange the yarns left in her basket. “It is a shame he feels that way. He would make a good husband.”

“He’s a handsome fellow, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s much more than that. He’s kind and generous, strong and hardworking. He’s everything a woman could desire in a mate.”

As soon as she realized she was rambling, Faith looked up in embarrassment. Sarah stared back with a look of compassion on her face.

Faith wanted to sink through the floor. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to admire Adrian or how much she wanted to be admired by him.

Sarah reached out and laid a hand on Faith’s arm. “Adrian still grieves deeply for his wife and son. He says the love he holds in his heart for his first wife doesn’t leave room for another. He speaks with conviction when he says he will never love again. A woman who sets her heart on my cousin is likely to find heartache instead.”

Adrian started his assessment of Faith’s orchard under the close supervision of her alpacas. The herd followed him everywhere, observing his activity with wide curious eyes. Their heads bobbed back and forth on their long necks as they tried to figure out what he was up to.

Before long, the group grew tired of simply watching him. They began a new game, bounding away, then racing back at him, dodging aside at the last second to avoid a collision. Soon, several mock battles broke out between the youngsters. They chased each other around the trees, kicking and knocking their long necks into one another. Socks and Baby Face reared up and began a boxing match as they hopped about on their rear legs.

Adrian chuckled at their antics. It was like being surrounded by five-foot-tall puppies. He began to understand Faith’s attraction to them. They were adorable. Like their owner.

Only Myrtle refused to join the fun. She spit at those brave or foolish enough to encroach on her space. Adrian had no trouble staying away from her.

He finished his task and was letting himself out the gate to the orchard when he saw Faith returning. His spirits lifted instantly. She was sure to smile when he recounted her animals’ antics.

She drew her horse to a stop beside the barn door. He held the mare’s headstall as Faith descended from the buggy. “Did you sell all your yarn?” he asked.

She pulled a large hamper from the backseat. “Not all of it but a large portion. I hope you have some good news about my orchard.”

“You have very curious animals prowling out there.”

Her face filled with concern. “Did they give you trouble?”

“I was able to dodge their charges and most of the spit.”

“I will wash your shirt if need be.”

“
Nee,
I’m only teasing. You have about ten trees that should be cut down. They are too old and diseased to bear fruit. They can be cut up and stacked for firewood. They should dry out enough through the fall to burn well this winter.”

Faith set her basket on the ground. “Should I replant more peach trees in their place?”

“If I were you, I’d diversify with some plum and apple trees. Since they flower at different times, you will be less likely to lose the entire crop if we get a late freeze in the spring.

Her eyebrows shot up. “So you think I will be here in the spring? Have you decided I can make a go of this place?”

“You have made a good start,” he admitted.

“Only because you’ve done the majority of the outside work. Your help has been a godsend.”

Adrian grew uncomfortable with her gratitude. He hadn’t started out to help her earn a living. He’d had his own selfish reasons for doing the work needed. He had hoped she would sell her farm to him.

Did he still want her to leave?

No…and yes.

He hadn’t once thought of Lovina all through this day. He’d thought only of what Faith would say, what would make her smile. Faith made him forget his pain.

He didn’t want to feel this sense of wonder when she was near, but he did. Seeing her smile shouldn’t make him happy, but it did.

Adrian turned away and started to unhitch the horse. Faith made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Things that had died in him when Lovina died.

Faith said, “I can manage. I’m sure you have your own work to see to.”

“I’ve wasted the best part of the day here. I might as well stable your horse. It won’t take that much longer.” His voice sounded unnaturally harsh even to his own ears.

Faith took a step back and ducked her head. “I should get these things up to the house. The social worker will be here soon.”

As she hurried away, Adrian could’ve kicked himself for stripping the happiness from her eyes. Had he been wrapped up in his own grief so long that he’d forgotten how to be kind?

F
aith put her yarns and baskets away and worked up the courage to return to the barn. She had upset Adrian, but she didn’t know how. Was it something she said? He’d done too much for her to let him go away angry.

She paused at the kitchen door, remembering Adrian as he had first appeared to her, dark and scowling. In spite of his fierce appearance, he’d been nothing but kind to her. She had come to care for him, to see him as a friend, yet she had scurried away from his displeasure like a sheep running from the wolf. Why was it still so hard to stand up for herself?

Because I’m afraid.

Was Adrian’s kindness only an act or did her old fear make her suspect evil where it didn’t exist? If she couldn’t be sure, how could she do business with him, accept his help, allow him into her life?

Learning to trust again was harder than relearning to walk had been. Perhaps that was the reason God had brought her to this place. Because she had to begin somewhere. If this was her first test, she had failed miserably.

No, that wasn’t true because she wanted to trust Adrian. The real problem was that she no longer trusted her own judgment.

Dear Father in heaven, give me strength and wisdom. Let me not judge others lest I be judged in return. Help me to see the good in men and not suspect evil.

Bolstered by her prayer, Faith left the house, crossed the yard and pulled open the barn door. Adrian was busy forking hay into Copper’s stall. He hadn’t seen her return.

Unobserved, Faith took a moment to admire the way he made the work look easy. His strong arms and shoulders drove the fork deep into the hay and lifted a bundle with ease. Beneath the sweat-dampened shirt he wore, she could see the muscles tightening and rippling across his back. Her breath quickened as she realized she wasn’t seeing him as a friend should. Embarrassed, she looked away.

He was a strong, handsome man, and he was proving himself to be a good friend and neighbor. That was all. She wouldn’t let it be anything else.

He caught sight of her. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

He didn’t seem angry now. She took a step closer. “I’m sorry I upset you earlier.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You did nothing to upset me. I’m the one who should be sorry. I let my ill humor ruin your day. That was wrong. The help I gave you was for selfish reasons. Please forgive me.”

“You are forgiven. For what selfish reason have you worked here day in and day out?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “I thought if you couldn’t make a go of this farm, I could buy it from you. The work that I’ve done here would have had to be done anyway when I took over.”

“I see. Thank you for telling me this.”

“I no longer think you will fail, Faith Martin. You have the will to succeed, and as you once told me, you aren’t afraid of hard work.

A sound outside drew her attention. Faith’s heart leaped
into her throat when she saw the automobile pulling to a stop in front of her house. In the front seat she could see a woman surveying the property. “That must be Mrs. Taylor, Kyle’s social worker. What do I do?”

Adrian came to stand beside her. Gently, he said, “Go and welcome her.”

His simple reply made her realize how silly she was being. “Kyle was raised in an
Englisch
home. I’m worried that this
Englisch
woman won’t think he belongs in an Amish home.”

“You cannot discover the answers you seek by hiding here in the barn.”

“Are you sure?”

“
Ja,
I’m pretty sure.” He smiled and motioned her toward the door. “Go.”

Gathering her courage, Faith walked out of the barn and toward the car, knowing this was the moment she had been dreading and praying for. She had had several letters from Mrs. Taylor, but she had no idea what to expect from the
Englisch
social worker.

The car door opened, and a tall, slender young woman got out. She wore a plum-colored suit and matching high-heeled shoes. Her hair was short and dark. It curled tightly against her skull. She held a briefcase in one hand.

Faith managed a smile. “
Velkumm.
Are you a Mrs. Taylor?”

“I’m afraid Mrs. Taylor no longer works for our agency. I’m Miss Watkins. Caroline Watkins. Are you Faith Miller?”

“Martin,” Faith corrected her.

“My apologies.” Caroline’s gaze was fastened on Adrian standing by the barn. “Is that Mr. Martin?”

“No. That is my neighbor, Adrian Lapp. I am a widow. I thought you knew that.”

“I’m sure it was in the file. I apologize if I sound unprepared.
I’ve been swamped with work. Yours is my third home visit this week. Mrs. Taylor left on very short notice and I’m playing catch-up.”

“Do come in the house.” Faith gestured toward the front door.

Would her home pass inspection? Was it clean enough? Was it big enough? Would Faith pass as a prospective parent, or would this woman decide she didn’t deserve her nephew? Worry gnawed at her insides. Exactly what would this home study entail?

Inside the house, Faith led the way to the living room. It was sparely furnished with a small sofa placed in front of a pair of tall windows. Two reading chairs flanked the couch. A small bookcase sat against the wall opposite the windows. Miss Watkins settled herself on the sofa while Faith perched on the edge of a chair facing her.

Miss Watkins must have seen the concern Faith was trying to conceal. “Please don’t be nervous, Mrs. Martin. I’m here to make sure your home is a suitable, safe place for your nephew, not to pass judgment on your housekeeping or personal tastes.”

“I am Kyle’s only family. What could be more suitable than that?”

“I agree it is almost always best to place a child with a relative, but placing a child in a safe and loving home is our top priority, even if that means placing them with someone other than a blood relative.”

The social worker searched through her papers. “First, I need to see two forms of identification. I have to make sure I’m talking to the right person. Confidentiality laws and all that, you know. Your driver’s license and a Social Security card will be fine.”

“I do not have such documents.”

Miss Watkins frowned. “You don’t have a Social Security card?”

“I do not. The Amish do not believe in Social Security. It is the responsibility of everyone to care for the sick and elderly. We do not depend upon the government to do that for us. I do have my birth certificate and my marriage license, if that will do?”

Faith rose from the chair and crossed to the small bookcase in the corner. She opened her Bible and took out several pieces of paper and handed them to the social worker.

“Under the circumstances, I think these will be fine. Today, I’d like to gather some information about your background, family life, child care expectations and about your parenting philosophy. I know you must be frustrated at having to repeat some of this process since you began your adoption in Missouri, but now that you are in Ohio, you will have to abide by Ohio law.”

“I understand my move came at a bad time, but it couldn’t be helped.”

“I will do what I can to expedite your home study. A few things won’t have to be repeated. Your background check and criminal search records have been forwarded to us by the Missouri authorities.”

“I only wish to have Kyle with me as soon as possible. He has been with strangers for two months.”

Miss Watkins opened a folder. “Kyle King is in foster care in Texas, is that right?”

Faith nodded.

“And you’ve not been to visit him, is that correct?”

“I’ve spoken to him on the phone several times and written letters to him twice a week, every week, but I’ve been unable to travel to Texas.” It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do for now.

“I will admit I know very little about the Amish, so please
forgive my ignorance. You are the first Amish client I’ve worked with. I understand you do not use electricity.”

“We do not.”

“And you have no phone and no car.”

“There is a phone shack at the end of the lane that I and my Amish neighbors may use. It is permitted for work and for emergencies. I have a horse and buggy for ordinary travel, but I may hire a driver if I must travel a long distance.”

“I’ll make a note of that. After our interview, I’ll make a brief safety inspection of your home. Typically, this first visit lasts from three to four hours.

“Four hours?” Faith thought of all the work that she had waiting for her.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“
Nee,
of course not.”

“If I can’t gather all I need today I will schedule a follow-up visit. I don’t see a statement from your doctor. Did you receive the paperwork we sent you?”

“I haven’t had a chance to schedule an appointment.”

Miss Watkins frowned. “Ohio law is very clear on this. In order to adopt a child, you must be in good health.”

“I am. My limp is the result of an accident, not an illness. I’ll take care of it this week.” A doctor’s visit was another expense Faith didn’t need. The money from her yarn sales wouldn’t go far.

“All right. Let’s get started. Are there any other adults or children living in this home?”

“Nee.”

“Do you have adequate room to house a child?”

“
Ja,
this house has four bedrooms upstairs, although I don’t yet have a bed for Kyle.”

Miss Watkins jotted down some notes. “I will have to see all the accommodations prior to his arrival. Do you suffer from any physical or mental illnesses?”

“Only the limp you see.”

“What is the reason for your disability?”

“I was injured when a pickup struck our buggy. My husband was killed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It was God’s will.” Faith couldn’t pretend there was sorrow in her heart, for there was none. Only relief and guilt for not loving Mose as a wife should.

“Do you have a history of alcohol, drug or substance abuse, even if it did not result in an arrest?”

“Nee.”

“Do you have a history of child abuse, even if it was not reported?”

“Nee.”

“Do you have a history of domestic violence, even if it did not result in an arrest or conviction?”

Faith’s heart jumped to her throat. Would Mose reach out from the grave and snatch away her only chance to raise a child? She couldn’t let that happen.

Never again would she place herself, or Kyle, in such a situation. She answered carefully for she didn’t want to lie. “I have never abused anyone nor have I been accused of such behavior.”

“Have you ever been rejected for adoption or foster care?”

Faith relaxed. “I have not.”

For the next several hours, Faith answered all the questions put to her. Finally, Miss Watkins said, “Why don’t we take a break and you can show me the house.”

“Of course. I have only recently moved in. There is still much work to be done.”

“I understand. Let’s start with the kitchen.”

Faith led the way. Miss Watkins made notes as she walked. To Faith, it seemed that she took note of every flaw, every
uneven floorboard and even the stains on the wall behind the stove. The house might not be perfect, but it was a roof over her head.

In the kitchen, Miss Watkins went straight to the refrigerator and opened the door. The shelves were bare except for a few staples—butter, eggs and some bacon. She turned to Faith. “You don’t have much in the way of food here.”

“I have only myself to cook for. I don’t need much.”

“Will feeding a growing boy be difficult for you?”

“Not at all. Come. I will show you the cellar.” Faith took a lamp from inside the cupboard and lit the wick. Opening a door at the back of kitchen, Faith descended the steps, cautioning Miss Watkins to use the handrail.

Down in the cool, damp cellar, Faith raised her lamp to show shelves full of canned fruits, vegetables and meats. It had taken her two solid days to clean out the cellar, repair the shelves and stock them. “I brought most of this with me from my previous home in Missouri. Some of my new neighbors have brought more as gifts.”

“Impressive. Can we go back upstairs now?”

Clearly, Miss Watkins didn’t care to remain in a small dark space. She frowned as she eyed the lamp Faith held. “I have some concern about the use of kerosene lamps around a small child.”

“Amish children are all taught how to use lamps safely.”

“Open flames are very dangerous. You will have to provide an alternate source of light.”

“Would battery-powered lights be acceptable?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then I shall purchase some.” Faith smiled. More expenses.

After leaving the cellar, Faith gave the social worker a tour of the yard and outbuildings. Once again, Miss Watkins was scribbling furiously in her notebook. The alpaca herd came
to the fence to observe the newcomer. Faith assured the social worker that they were not dangerous animals, but she gave Myrtle a wide berth. The rest of the herd remained well behaved, much to her relief.

Back in the house, Miss Watkins gathered together her papers. She closed her briefcase and handed Faith two additional pieces of paper. “I think that will do it for today. As far as paperwork goes, you will need to complete the health summary and you will need to have a fire safety inspection.”

Was that a free service or was it something else she would have to pay for?

Miss Watkins held out her hand. “I will be back the same time next week. Hopefully, you will have everything completed by then.”

Twisting her hands together, Faith asked, “What if I don’t?”

“If there are deficiencies, it does not automatically mean you can’t adopt your nephew. It simply means that these are things we will have to work on.”

As Faith watched the social worker drive away, she had no idea if she had passed inspection or not.

Why should they feel she deserved a child if God had not seen fit to answer her prayers for one? Simply because she was Kyle’s aunt didn’t mean she was the best person to raise him.

Glancing toward the orchard, she wondered if Adrian was still working out there or if he had gone home. An intense need to see him took hold of her.