The Farmer Next Door (8 page)

He finished his meal and was taking his plate back to the house when he saw Faith deep in conversation with Bishop Zook over on the front porch of the
dawdy haus.
Joseph motioned to Adrian. This time he had no choice but to obey.

The bishop smiled a broad welcome. “Adrian, I have been filling Faith in on our
ordnung.
I suggested she refer to you if she has any doubts about changes to her home or business as you are closer than I.”

Faith remained silent, but a rosy blush stained her cheeks.

“I will do what I can to help.” He didn’t need a new excuse to see Faith, but he accepted the responsibility. It was impor
tant that she be accepted in the community. To do that, she had to live within the rules of their church.

The bishop thumped Adrian on the back. “Bless you. I knew I could count on you. A few of the men are getting up a game of quoits. Will you join us?”

Similar to horseshoes but played with round metal rings, quoits was a game Adrian used to enjoy, but he rarely took part in such activities now. “I will go find Ben. He has the best aim in the family.”

After passing the message to his brother, Adrian put Ben in charge of getting the family home. With his duty discharged, Adrian left early and walked the few miles back to his farm.

At the house, he took a sharp knife and cut two bunches of flowers from the garden. With a bouquet in each hand, he walked out to the small cemetery where Gideon and Lovina waited for him.

Kneeling between their graves, he placed his gift beneath each headstone. “I brought some daisies for you, Lovey. I remember how much you loved them. You always said they were the bright eyes of your flowerbeds. They’ve bloomed all summer for you.”

He sat back on his heels. “We held church services at Eli Imhoff’s place. That
Englisch
fellow is still attending. I didn’t think Jonathan would stay but he has a plain way about him now. Our new neighbor was there, too.”

Pausing, he considered what to say about Faith. “She smoothed things over with Esther Zook right nicely. Course, I gave her a hint on how to handle Esther. I hope that’s okay. She’s a smart one, that Faith is.”

Suddenly, it didn’t feel right to be talking to his wife about another woman. He rose and took his usual place on the cedar stump.

The silence pressed in on him. The wind tugged at his hat, and he settled it more firmly on his head.

“Gideon, you should see the crazy animals that live next door to us now. Alpacas. They’re cute, but they spit on people and each other if they get annoyed. Faith has ten of them. The yarn she spins from their fleece is mighty soft. She gave me a pair of socks. The ones I’m wearing now, in fact.”

He pulled up his pant leg and fingered the material. The warm softness reminded him of Faith’s smile when he’d caught her humming as she worked her spinning wheel on her front porch.

Pushing thoughts of her out of his head, he said, “I’m glad I’m not the fella who has to shear those beasties come spring. I’ll bet he gets spit on a lot.”

Adrian chuckled as he imagined anyone trying to clip the wool from Myrtle’s neck.

The wind carried his mirth away. There was no answering laughter here. No one to share the joke with. Only two gray headstones among many in a field of green grass. Sadness settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Adrian rose to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets and started for home. It wasn’t until he reached his lane that he realized he hadn’t said goodbye.

On Monday afternoon Faith walked to the end of her lane and crossed the highway to the community phone. A small gray building not much bigger than a closet sat back from the road near a cluster of trees. A solar panel extended out from the south side of the roof. She could see through the window that it was unoccupied. She opened the door and stepped inside.

The shack held a phone, a small stool and a ledge for writing materials along with an answering machine blinking with two messages. She listened to them in case the agency had left
a message for her, but they hadn’t. Adrian had a message that his mower part was in, and Samuel Stultz had a new grandbaby over in Sugarcreek. It was a girl.

A local phone directory hung from a small chain at the side of the ledge. Picking it up, she searched for and found the number for the medical clinic in Hope Springs. She pulled a pencil and a piece of paper from her pocket to make note of the number for later. As she laid her pencil down, it rolled off the ledge and fell under her stool.

In the cramped space she couldn’t reach it. She blew out her breath in a huff of disgust, then awkwardly squatted down, bracing herself against the door. A second later the door opened and she tumbled out backward, landing in a heap at Adrian Lapp’s feet.

“Faith, are you all right?” He immediately dropped to one knee beside her.

She looked up into his face filled with concern and could have died of embarrassment. “I’m fine, but my dignity is a little bruised.”

He helped her to her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. What were you doing on the floor?”

His hands lingered on her arms. She could feel the warmth and strength of them through the thin fabric of her dress. He was so close. His masculine scent enveloped her, sending a wave of heat rushing to her face that had nothing to do with embarrassment or fear. She wasn’t frightened of him. His touch was strong but gentle. She was frightened by how much she wanted to move closer, to step into the circle of his arms and rest there.

She took a step back. He slowly let her go, his hands slipping from her elbows to her wrists in a soft caress. She said, “I dropped my pencil.”

“What?” He seemed as confused as she was by the tension that shimmered between them.

“I was trying to reach my pencil. I dropped it and it rolled under the chair.” She brushed at the back of her dress. Her blood hummed from his nearness and the way his gaze lingered on her face. Suddenly, she saw an attractive man in the prime of his life. A single man.

She crossed her arms and looked down, hoping he wouldn’t read this new and disturbing awareness in her eyes.

“No wonder I didn’t see you.” He stepped inside the building and retrieved her pencil.

He held it out and she took it gingerly, careful not to touch him.
“Danki.”

“I will let you finish your call.”

“I’m only making a doctor’s appointment. If you need the phone, you may use it now. I can wait.”

His brow furrowed into sharp lines. “Are you sick?”

She was flattered by the concern etched on his face. “
Nee,
it is nothing like that. The adoption agency I’m using requires me to have a physical. I need to have a fire safety inspection of my home, too. Do you have any idea who I would call to see about that?”

“Michael Klein is our local fire chief. I’m one of the volunteer firemen. His number is in the book.”

“Michael Klein. I will remember that. What would I do without you, Adrian? You have helped me at every turn.”

“I have no doubt you would manage. Make your calls. I can wait.”

He walked away to stand in the shade, giving her some privacy. She went back inside the phone booth, quickly placed her first call and was happy to find out the doctor’s office could see her that afternoon.

The second call went smoothly, as well. The fire chief agreed to come by the following day and inspect her home. With her appointments made, she stepped outside. “I’m finished, Adrian.”

He walked over, but instead of taking a seat inside the phone booth, he leaned against the doorjamb. “How is your adoption going?”

Faith struggled against the urge to linger here with Adrian and lost. She liked his company; she liked spending time with him.

“Things are going well, I think. The doctor can see me today and the fire chief can come tomorrow. The social worker did not run screaming from my house, although when we were in the cellar, I thought she might.”

“You have not introduced her to Myrtle, have you?” There was a glint of humor in his eyes and in his voice.

Faith grinned. “
Nee,
I made sure Miss Watkins stayed away from her.”

“That’s
goot.
The bishop’s wife and I are forgiving of such an insult, but an
Englisch
woman in her fancy suit might not be.”

The clip-clop of a horse and buggy approaching made them look toward the highway. Samuel Stultz pulled to a stop. “Are you using the phone?”

Faith grinned for she already knew his good news. “You have a message, Samuel.”

As he hurried to get down, Faith turned to Adrian. “I must be going. I will have to hurry if I am to find the clinic in time for my appointment. Poor old Copper isn’t as fast as she once was.”

“I need to take a harness into Rueben Beachy’s shop for repairs. I go right by the clinic if you want to ride with me.”

“That is very kind of you, but I have no idea how long I will be.”

They moved aside to let Samuel use the booth.

Adrian said, “I have several other errands to run. I need to pick up some bushel baskets and the new blades for my sickle mower should be in.”

“They are. I heard it on the message machine.” She leaned closer. “And Samuel has a new grandbaby.”

Adrian chuckled, “I’m glad my blades have come in. It will be time to put up hay in another few days and I must be ready.”

“Is the work in my orchard taking up too much of your time?”

“
Nee,
I’m glad of the extra work. I don’t mind waiting for you at the doctor’s office as long as you don’t mind waiting there if you are done ahead of me.”

A ride into town seated beside Adrian was more appealing than it should have been. Should she accept? What was the harm in it? There was no need for both their horses to make the trip. “I accept your offer, gladly, and I won’t mind waiting.”

“
Goot.
I will be back with my wagon in half an hour.”

“I will be ready.”

Samuel stuck his head out the door, a wide grin on his face. “I have a granddaughter.”

Faith laughed. “I know. Congratulations.”

When she looked back, Adrian had already started toward his farm. Faith bid Samuel good day and hurried as fast as she could to her house.

Once there, she quickly freshened up. She changed her worn and stained everyday dress and apron for her best outfit. After patting down a few stray hairs, she decided she looked well enough to go into town. The blue of her good dress brought out the color of her eyes. Would Adrian notice? The thought brought her up short. Now, she was being foolish.

Her practical nature quickly reasserted itself. It wasn’t that she wanted to impress Adrian. She merely wanted to look presentable when she met the doctor. Having rationalized choosing her best dress, she gave one last look in the mirror,
pinched some color into her cheeks, put on her bonnet and went out to wait for Adrian with excitement simmering in her blood.

A
drian called himself every kind of fool as he drove his green farm wagon up to Faith’s gate. He was about to give his nosy neighbors and his family food for speculation by driving the widow Martin into town. Knowing smiles and pointed questions would be coming his way for days. What had he been thinking?

Cousin Sarah would be sure to hear about this. She would make certain his mother knew before the day was out. He began lining up explanations in his head so he would have them ready. His mother was certain to drop by his house before nightfall.

He tugged at his beard as the source of his coming discomfort limped down the walk and crossed behind the wagon to the passenger’s side. He glanced down at her as she prepared to step up into the wagon. Something of what he’d been thinking must have shown on his face.

A look of concern furrowed her brow. “Is something wrong?”

There was no point in ruining her afternoon with his glum thoughts. He extended his hand to help her in. “
Nee.
I’ve much on my mind. That’s all.”

She laid her hand in his without hesitation. He realized it
was the first time she hadn’t flinched away from him. A sense of satisfaction settled in the center of his chest.

Her hand was small and delicate in his grasp. His fist completely engulfed it. She was light as a feather when he pulled her up. She might be a tiny thing, but what she lacked in size she more than made up for in determination. He admired her tenacity. She had done a lot with her rundown inheritance. She was making the place into a home.

He turned the wagon around in the yard and set his gelding to a steady trot when they reached the highway. The drone of the tires on the payment, the clatter of the horse’s hooves and the jangle of the harness were the only sounds for the first few minutes of the ride.

Adrian suddenly found himself tongue-tied. He hadn’t spent time alone with a woman since his single days. What should he talk about? Or should he keep his mouth shut?

He glanced at Faith sitting straight as a board on the seat beside him. The wide brim of her black bonnet hid her face from his view. What was she thinking? Did she regret accepting his offer? Was she worried that gossips might link their names?

She spoke at last. “What is your horse called?”

“Wilbur.”

“He has a fine gait.”

Wilbur was a safe enough topic. “He was a racehorse in his younger days, but he was injured. His
Englisch
owner didn’t want to waste money caring for him. You met Jonathan Dressler, didn’t you?”

“The
Englisch
fellow who has become Amish?”

“
Ja.
He works for a group that takes in abandoned and injured horses. He nurses them back to health and retrains them for riding or buggy work.”

“I’ll remember that. My Copper is getting old and slowing down. I will need a new horse in a few years.”

“Perhaps you can teach your alpacas to pull your buggy.”

She giggled and shot a grin his way. “Can you see how many tourists would want my picture if I did such a thing?”

“Not many once they met Myrtle.”

Faith laughed outright. His discomfort evaporated as warmth spread though his body. She had a way of making him forget his troubles. He said, “You should laugh more often.”

Their eyes met, and she quickly looked away. “How soon will our peaches be ripe?”

“Another two or three weeks.”

“Will you sell them from a roadside stand or take them into the market in town?”

“To market unless you want to run the stand?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. Do we get enough traffic on this road to make it worthwhile?”

Adrian relaxed and started to enjoy the ride as Faith asked about his plans for the orchard. A few pointed questions from him set her to talking about her alpacas and her plans for expanding her spinning business. It wasn’t long before the town of Hope Springs came into view. As far as Adrian was concerned, the ride was over all too soon.

He left her at the door to the medical clinic and quickly set about completing his own errands so she wouldn’t have to wait when she was done seeing the doctor. With a jolt, he realized he was eager for the trip home.

Faith entered the Hope Springs Clinic, a modern one-story blond brick building, with a sense of dread. She had spent more than enough time in hospitals and doctors’ offices over the past two years. What if they found something new wrong with her? What if they thought she wasn’t strong enough to take care of a child?

Inside the building, she checked in with the elderly re
ceptionist and took a seat in the crowded waiting room. When her name was called, she followed a young woman in a white lab coat down a short hallway and took a seat on the exam room table.

The young woman introduced herself. “I’m Amber Bradley. I’m Dr. White’s office nurse and a nurse-midwife. Can you tell me what kind of problems you’ve been having?”

“None.” Faith withdrew her papers from her bag. “I am adopting a child, but first, I must have a physical.”

Amber’s smile widened as she took the paperwork. “Congratulations. The doctor will be with you in a few minutes. We will need to get any previous medical records you have. I’ll bring you the forms to sign so we can get them faxed to this office.”

“I’m very healthy. I did not see a doctor until I was in an accident two years ago.” Faith opened her mouth for the thermometer Amber extended.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Many Amish go their entire lives without seeing a doctor. We see a fair number here because of Dr. White’s reasonable rates. I tell him he’s just plain cheap.” Amber chuckled as she recorded the temperature reading, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Faith’s arm.

The outside door opened, and a tall, silver-haired man walked in. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Martin. I’m Dr. Harold White. What can we do for you today?”

Faith again explained her situation. The doctor listened carefully, then took the forms from Amber. “This looks pretty straightforward. We’ll get a chest X-ray, draw some blood and give you a complete physical while you are here today. My office will send you the results in a few days. Do we have your address?”

Faith recited it, and the doctor wrote it down. He said, “Isn’t this the old Delker Orchard?”

“Ja.”

Dr. White said, “That place has been empty for twenty years. I didn’t know it was for sale.”

“I inherited it when my husband passed away. He was the grandchild of the previous owner.”

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “He was that boy?”

Confused, Faith asked, “Did you know my husband?”

“I only met him once. I often wondered what happened to him. The whole thing was very hushed up at the time. Back then child abuse simply wasn’t talked about.”

Faith shook her head in denial. “You must be mistaken. He never spoke of such a thing.”

“Was your husband’s name Mose?”

“It was.”

The doctor began counting to himself using his fingers, then said, “He would be forty-five years old if he were alive today.”

She nodded. “He would.”

“Did he have scars on both his wrists?”

“From where he was dragged by a runaway team of horses when he was small.”

“I wish that were true. I’m not surprised he never spoke of it. Children who suffer such abuse often block it from their memory. His wrists were scarred from where he was tied up in his grandmother’s basement. Apparently, he came to live with her when his parents both died of influenza. Old Mrs. Delker hated the Amish. Her only daughter ran away from home and wound up marrying an Amish fellow who left the faith for her.”

“My husband said he was raised by his Amish grandparents after his parents passed away.”

“Eventually, he was. I was called out to the farm when a utility worker reported he’d seen a boy chained in the cellar. The poor child was wearing only rags and he was thin as a
rail. It was clear he’d been beaten and neglected. He hit and bit at anyone who came close to him.”

Faith wrapped her arms around herself. “How terrible.”

If only she had known. If only Mose had shared his pain instead of keeping it hidden all those years. Would their lives have been different? Surely they would have been.

Dr. White stared at the floor, as if watching that long-ago scene. “It was terrible. Eventually, the sheriff located his father’s Amish parents and the boy was sent to live with them. Mrs. Delker spent some time in a mental hospital, but she came back within about six months. She was even more of a recluse afterwards. She had a stroke and passed away ten years later.”

Dr. White looked up, suddenly contrite. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t go on like that. Sometimes we old people don’t know when to stop reminiscing. The past can seem clearer than the present for us. This must be quite a shock for you.”

“It explains a lot about my husband. He wasn’t a happy man.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Let us talk of more cheerful things. You are adopting a child. That’s wonderful. The sooner we get done here, the sooner that can happen. The first thing we need from you is a medical history.” He became all business.

Faith answered what seemed like a hundred questions, had her X-ray taken and suffered through getting her blood drawn, but the whole time she kept seeing Mose’s face. He had been a harsh man without peace in his life. She prayed he was at peace now.

When she left the doctor’s office, she saw Adrian waiting for her. The sight of him lifted her spirits.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

“
Ja.
And you?” She climbed up onto the wagon seat.

“All done. Shall we head home?”

“Would you mind if we stopped at the fabric store? I need
to see if I should bring in more yarn.” She was in no hurry to return to the house that had seen such pain.

A fleeting look of reluctance flashed across Adrian’s face. “
Ja,
we can stop at the fabric store.”

“If it’s too much trouble, I can wait,” she offered, not wanting to upset him.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he drawled. Slapping the reins against Wilbur’s rump, he set the black horse in motion.

When they reached Needles and Pins, Faith scrambled down from the bench seat. “I’ll just be a minute.”

A wry smile twisted his lips. “Take your time and say hello to Sarah for me. Tell her I’ll be expecting
Mamm
this evening.”

Faith wasn’t quite sure what to make of his odd mood. He glanced toward the shop door as it opened and said, “Never mind. Here she comes now.”

Faith turned around, expecting to see Sarah, but saw instead a short, gray-haired woman coming out of the shop. She stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Adrian, then smiled broadly.

“Hello, my son. What are you doing here?”

“I had some errands to run.
Mamm,
have you met Faith Martin?”

“I have not.” His mother subjected Faith to intense scrutiny.

Faith was glad she’d taken the time to change her dress and put on her best bonnet. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lapp. Your son has been wonderfully helpful to me. He has been the best neighbor anyone could ask for.”

“Please call me Linda. It does a mother’s heart good to hear such things about her son. I saw you briefly at the last church service, but I failed to introduce myself. I’ve been remiss in not welcoming you. Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive. Excuse me, I must check
to see if Janet needs more yarn from me. I won’t be long, Adrian.”

“No hurry,” he replied.

Linda’s grin widened. There was a distinctive twinkle in her eyes. “Your papa and I must stop by for a visit one of these evenings, Adrian. We have some catching up to do.”

He knew where she was going and sought to cut her off. “Don’t read more into this than there is. I’m helping out a neighbor. That’s all.”

Her smile faded. “It’s time you put your grief away and took a close look at your life, my son. Many wonders of God are missed by a man who will not open his eyes.”

As his mother walked away, Adrian mulled her words. How did he put away his grief even if he wanted to? Did he want to?

His grief had become a high fence he used to hold others at bay. In spite of his efforts, and without meaning to, Faith Martin had made a hole in that fence. To close it back up meant pushing her out of his life. Was he willing to do that?

Even if he wanted to, he wasn’t sure he could. There was something special about her, something more than her pretty face and expressive eyes. When he was with her…he felt alive for the first time in years.

True to her word, Faith was back in a few minutes. He glanced at her seated beside him as they rode homeward. She was unusually quiet. Her eyes held a faraway look, as if she were viewing something sad from her past.

Was she remembering trips she’d taken with her husband seated beside her? Had the doctor given her bad news? Did her leg hurt? Was she tired?

There were so many things he wanted to know about her, so many questions he wanted to ask, but he shied away from them because they might reveal the real question nagging at the back of his mind.

Did Faith enjoy being in his company as much as he enjoyed being with her?

The afternoon sun beat down on them as they traveled along. Faith untied her dark bonnet and laid it on the seat between them. He asked, “Are you warm?”

“A little.”

Stupid question. Of course she was or she wouldn’t have taken off her bonnet. Why did he revert to acting like a tongue-tied teenager around this woman?

They made the rest of the journey to her home in silence. When he pulled to a stop in front of her gate, she didn’t get down but sat staring at the house like she’d never seen it before. She asked, “Did you know the woman who lived here before I came?”

“Vaguely.”

“Was she evil?”

What a strange question. “I don’t think so. She was old, and
ab im kopp.
”

“Off in the head? Crazy?”

“Ja.”

“She must have been,” Faith whispered.

He covered her hand with his. “Is something wrong?”