The Farmer Next Door (9 page)

She didn’t look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on the house. He checked out the building but didn’t see anything amiss. What was going on?

Gazing back at Faith, he studied her face intently. It was as if she couldn’t see or hear him. He squeezed her fingers. “Faith, what’s the matter?”

Her gaze slid to their hands and then to his face. She pulled away sharply and climbed down from the wagon, mumbling, “Goodbye.”

Stunned by her abrupt departure, Adrian stared after her. Had he done something wrong? Had he upset her with something he said? Should he follow her and ask or leave her be?

The safe thing to do was to leave her be. He was becoming far too caught up in Faith Martin’s life. He’d been neglecting his own work to help her, something he never did. This had to stop.

He turned the wagon and started for home. He’d only gone a hundred yards when he noticed her bonnet on the seat beside him.

Stopping the horse, he picked up the bonnet and held it in his hands. The dark fabric was warm from the sun. He lifted it to his face and breathed in. It held her scent.

He looked over his shoulder toward her house. Perhaps he was too caught up in her life, but he was ready to admit he was deeply drawn to Faith. He saw no way to free himself unless she turned him away.

Looping the reins over the brake handle, he jumped down from the wagon and strode toward her gate not knowing if he was simply returning her belonging or starting down a whole new path in his life.

When he reached the porch, he saw the front door stood open. He climbed the steps and called her name. She didn’t answer. Pausing in the doorway, he started to call out again when a sound stopped him. Someone was crying.

“Faith?” He took a step inside. The muffled sounds of sobbing were coming from a doorway at the back of the kitchen. Hesitantly, he walked that way.

The second he realized the door led to the cellar, he rushed forward. Had she fallen? Was she injured? “Faith, is that you? Are you all right?”

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness below him. When they did, he could just make out her form at the bottom of the stairs. She sat huddled into a ball on the bottom riser with her arms around her knees. Her shoulders shook with sobs.

He descended quickly, stepping past her to crouch in front
of her. He laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “Faith, did you fall? Are you hurt?”

She lifted her head and shook it in denial as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

His heart began beating again with rapid erratic thuds. “You scared the life out of me. What’s wrong?”

Words began pouring out of her. “If only I had known, I would have been a better wife. How could he keep such a thing locked away from me?”

“Faith, I don’t understand.”

“I married Mose because my parents were gone, my brother had left the faith and I had no one. I didn’t love him as a wife should. I tried, but I couldn’t, and I’m so ashamed.” She buried her face in her hands.

This was way out of his depths. Faith needed another woman to talk to. Someone like his mother or Nettie, but he couldn’t leave her weeping in the cellar.

No, that wasn’t true. He could leave, but he didn’t want to.

Adrian settled himself on the narrow step beside her. His hip brushed against hers. Her shoulder, where it touched his, spread warmth all down his arm. He wanted nothing more than to slip his arm around her and comfort her, but he knew it wouldn’t be right. Such closeness between a man and a woman was for husbands and wives.

He had no idea what to say. He simply started talking. “I loved my wife dearly, but I can’t remember her face. I try so hard to see her, but she isn’t clear anymore. I’m ashamed of that. How can I forget the one I loved more than my own life?”

Faith sniffed and slanted a look his way. “You should not feel ashamed for that.”

“Nor should you feel shame. We are only human.”

Nodding, she looked away from him, staring into the dark
corner of the room. “My husband was a cruel man. I think he tried not to be, but he couldn’t help himself. I used to think it was my fault. I thought I couldn’t make him happy because I didn’t love him enough.”

Adrian’s breath froze in his chest. “He was cruel to you?”

She looked down at her hands and gave a tiny nod.

Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “Faith, did your husband beat you?”

She nodded again, as if words were beyond her.

His stomach contracted with disgust. No wonder she flinched from his touch. What kind of man could abuse someone as sweet and kind as Faith?

“No man has the right to be cruel to another in such a fashion. It was not your fault.”

Scrubbing her face with her hands, she said, “I know.”

She drew a deep breath and looked at Adrian. “My husband’s grandmother lived here. Her daughter ran away with an Amish lad. When they died, Mose came back to stay with her.”

“Are you sure? I don’t remember a boy living here.”

“Mose was twelve years older than I. You wouldn’t have been old enough to know him, but, in truth, no one knew he was here. His grandmother kept him locked away in this cellar until the sheriff learned of it and took him away. Dr. White told me the whole sad story today.”

“That’s why you were so quiet on the way home.”

“I kept thinking that I was the one person who should have loved him and I didn’t. If I had, he might have shared this pain with me and been healed.”

“You take too much onto yourself. Only God can know the hearts and minds of men. You would have helped your husband if you could. You have a kind heart, Faith Martin.”

She shook her head in denial. “You are the one with the kind heart.”

He gently cupped her face and turned it toward him. With the pad of his thumb, he brushed the tears from her cheeks. Her luminous, tear-filled eyes widened, and her lips parted.

She was so close, so warm, so vibrant, and yet so vulnerable. He could kiss her—wanted to kiss her. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her soft lips, but something held him back.

Faith needed a friend now, not another complication. If he gave in to his desire it would change everything between them. She had given him a rare gift. Her trust. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.

Faith closed her eyes and leaned into Adrian’s hand, drawing strength from his gentle touch. If only she could hold on to this moment forever. She’d never felt so safe.

Why did this man make her wish for things that could never be? Long ago she’d given up the notion of having a happy marriage and children of her own. That wasn’t God’s plan for her. She accepted that.

And now this man had come into her life. A kind, sweet man who made her wish she still believed in a marriage with love between a husband and a wife. She cared for Adrian. Deeply.

As much as she wanted to hold on to this moment, she couldn’t. She couldn’t allow her growing feelings for Adrian to distract her. She had to think about Kyle. She had to focus on his adoption and on providing him with a safe, secure home.

She pulled away from Adrian. He withdrew his hand. The coolness of the cellar air made her shiver.

Pity filled his voice as he said, “Come upstairs, Faith. You cannot change what happened here. It is all in God’s hands now.”

Pity for her or for her husband?

She’d shared her darkest secret with Adrian. Did he think less of her for suffering in silence all those many years? Maybe she didn’t want to know.

She struggled to her feet. “I didn’t mean to burden you with my woes.”

“They are no burden, Faith. Sharing your troubles makes them lighter.”

She realized he was right. Her unhappy past didn’t loom over her the way it once had. Her sense of relief left her light-headed. She started up the stairs. “You have work to do. You should go home.”

“There’s nothing that can’t wait. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“
Ja,
a stout cup of tea will fix me right up.” She entered the kitchen and crossed to the sink. Her hands trembled as she reached for the teakettle. The room began spinning around her.

Adrian was beside her in an instant. His hand closed over hers as he gently took the kettle from her. “Let me do this. You sit down.”

He took her by the elbow and led her to the table. Pulling out a chair, he held it while she sat, then he returned to the sink and began to fill the kettle.

She drew several deep breaths. “Adrian, you don’t have to take care of me.”

“If I don’t, who will?” He carried the kettle to the stove. He turned on the burners and set the kettle over the flames, then started opening cabinets. “Where do you keep your tea?”

“In the green tin on the counter beside the refrigerator.”

He found it and soon had a mug ready for the hot water. As he waited for the kettle to boil, he took a seat across the table from her.

She managed a small smile. “God is
goot
to give me
a friend such as you. Are you so thoughtful of all your neighbors?”

“Only the ones with animals that spit on me.”

She chuckled. “Poor man. What an impression we must have made on you. It’s a wonder you ever came back.”

“I reckon I came back because I didn’t think you could make a go of this place. You proved me wrong.”

Lacing her fingers together in front of her on the table, she said, “I’ve managed to hang on for a few weeks. That doesn’t mean I can hang on forever. It doesn’t mean the
Englisch
will think this is a good home for my nephew.”

“What will happen if they don’t let you adopt him?”

Faith closed her eyes. “I can’t think such a thing. They
must
let him stay with me. I don’t think I could bear it if they don’t.”

Adrian laid his hand over her clenched fingers. She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with compassion and something else in his eyes. Longing.

Her heart began beating faster. He started to speak, but the shrill whistle of the kettle cut him off.

He pulled his hand away and rose to fix her tea. Whatever he had been about to say remained unsaid. After bringing her mug to the table, he muttered a goodbye and left abruptly. As the screen door banged shut behind him, Faith was left to wonder if she had imagined the closeness they had shared so briefly.

T
wo days after taking Faith into town, Adrian was cutting hay in the meadow when a car turned in his lane. It stopped on the road not far from him, and an
Englisch
lady got out. He drew his team to a halt. She approached but kept a wary eye on his horses. “Are you Mr. Adrian Lapp?”

“I am.” He waited for her to state her business.

“I’m Caroline Watkins. I’m the social worker in charge of your neighbor’s adoption application. I’ve just come from my second visit here, and Mrs. Martin has given me permission to speak with some of her neighbors. May I have a few minutes of your time?”

He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve and adjusted his hat. “A few. I must get my hay cut.”

“I won’t take long, I promise.” She opened a leather folder and began to write in it.

Meg, the horse closest to her, stomped at a fly and shook her head. Miss Watkins stumbled back a step and looked ready to run to the safety of her car. Time was a wasting. Adrian said, “What questions have you?”

She gave an embarrassed smile but didn’t come closer. “How long have you known Faith Martin?”

“Three weeks, I reckon.”

“Is that all?”

“I met her the day after she arrived here.”

Miss Watkins kept writing. “Are you aware of any reason why Mrs. Martin should not adopt a child?”

“Nee.”

“Do you believe she can provide for a child?”

“I do, but it makes no difference if she can or not.”

Miss Watkins’s brows drew together in a frown. “Of course it makes a difference.”

“An Amish parent does not need to worry about what will happen to his or her family if something tragic befalls them. All our widows and children are well cared for.”

“By whom?”

It was clear this outsider didn’t understand Amish ways. “Our church members will see that Faith and her child have food, clothing and a roof over their heads if ever they need such help.”

“That’s very admirable.”

“It is the way God commands us to live.”

“Have you seen Mrs. Martin interacting with children?”

He thought back to last Sunday.
“Ja.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I saw her holding Katie Sutter’s daughter, Rachel. She had the babe settled on her hip. It looked as if she had done it many times. I also saw her with Annie Imhoff. She is nine, I think. Faith gave her attention and directed her to help with the work as was right.”

“What are your feelings about Faith’s adoption plan?”

“It is a
goot
thing for her to take in her brother’s child, or any child.”

“How often do you see Mrs. Martin?”

“I’ve seen her almost daily since she arrived.”

“And why is that?”

The question shocked him. Why had he found excuse after excuse to trek across the field to see her so often?

Wasn’t it because he was happier when he was near her? Wasn’t it because her smile drove away his loneliness?

Miss Watkins waited for his reply. He said, “Because she needs help and it is the neighborly thing to do.”

“Describe her personal qualities and limitations.”

At last an easy question. “She is hardworking. She is devout. Modest. She is kind to her animals.”

Miss Watkins stopped writing and looked up. “And what about her limitations?”

A not-so-easy question. What could he say that wouldn’t undermine her chances of adopting her nephew and yet was the truth? “She sometimes takes on more than she can handle.”

“Do you see her physical handicap as a limitation?”

“You and I might see it as such, but she does not,” he stated firmly.

“Can you describe her potential ability to parent?”

“She will make a fine mother.” Of that he had no doubt.

Miss Watkins folded her notebook tight against her chest. “Will a child of a different faith be accepted in your community?”

He shouldn’t be annoyed by her ignorance, but he was. “God loves all His children. How could we do any less? Faith’s nephew will be raised to know and serve God, as all our children are. To become Amish is a choice, not a requirement. When he is old enough, he will make that decision for himself. I must get back to work now.”

“Thank you for your time.”

He clicked his tongue. “Get up, Meg. Go along, Mick.”

The team began moving and set the sickle in motion. The clatter of the razor sharp blades drowned out the sound of Miss Watkins’ car as she drove away.

It wasn’t right that an outsider was the one to decide if Faith could adopt her nephew.

For the first time in many years, Adrian opened his heart and prayed. He prayed for God to smile on Faith and the child who needed her.

In the middle of the week, Faith purchased a used wood-stove at a farm sale and had it installed in her home. She bid a sad goodbye to the propane stove but happily pocketed the money from its sale. Her first attempt to use her new stove resulted in a charred meal, but by the third day she had the hang of it again.

The fire chief’s favorable inspection report arrived in the mail a week later, the same day her medical report came. Dr. White had found her in sound health. She mailed the reports along with mounds of paperwork to the adoption agency and waited for a reply.

The following week she opened her mail to find the news she had been waiting for.

Kyle was coming to stay with her…on a trial basis.

Finally!

Faith hugged the letter to her chest and twirled in a circle, nearly falling in the process.

When she was calm enough, she read the details again. There would be more follow-up visits by the agency after Kyle arrived, but if all went well, the adoption hearing was scheduled for the last Monday in September.

There could still be stumbling blocks, but Faith didn’t care. Kyle was on his way. She was finally going to meet her brother’s child.

As she waited impatiently on the porch the day he was to arrive, she worked at carding her fleece. The process of combing sections of hair over and over again between two
brushes was a mindless task she could do as she watched the driveway. Each passing minute felt like an hour.

When Miss Watkins’s car finally appeared, Faith dropped her work into a basket and walked toward her gate, her hands shaking with excitement. She had waited so long for this moment.

Caroline stopped her car and got out. Without a word, she opened the back door of the automobile. Faith smiled happily at the boy who emerged. With his flaming red hair and freckles, young Kyle was the spitting image of his father at the same age.

The anxiety Faith had been living with for weeks lifted away and vanished into the air like smoke. It took but a moment for love to form in her heart. This was her brother’s son, and she would love him as she had his father. As she would love her own child.

“Welcome, Kyle. I am your
Aenti
Faith, and I am very pleased to meet you.”

He looked ready to bolt back into the car. His green eyes held sadness and fear. The tragedy had left its mark on him. Faith could have wept for all he had endured. It would be up to her and God to see that Kyle’s life was safe and happy from now on out.

Miss Watkins said, “Today is a very special day. It’s Kyle’s birthday. I didn’t know if you knew that or not.”

Faith grinned at Kyle. “I didn’t know. Happy birthday, dearest. My goodness, you are six. We will have to get you enrolled in school right away if you are to start this fall.”

She took a step closer and bent to his level. “I have a surprise for you. Someone else has arrived just this morning and I think he would like to meet you.”

Kyle’s gaze moved from her face to the house behind her. “Who is it?”

Faith straightened and crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t
know what to call him. He’s down in the barn. Would you like to meet him?”

Kyle eyed the barn with uncertainty. “I guess.”

“
Goot.
Come along. Miss Watkins, you are welcome to come, too.” Faith nodded in that direction.

The social worker looked from the barn down to her high-heeled shoes. “I believe I’ll wait in the house.”

Faith extended her hand to Kyle but he didn’t take it. She tried not to feel rejected. She knew she needed to give him time to warm up to her. She started toward the barn and glanced over her shoulder. Kyle followed.

Happiness warmed her heart. It had been a long time since she’d dared believe she could be this happy.

At the barn door, she waited for him to catch up. “Have you ever been to a farm before?”

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. “We stayed on a ranch once. The rancher was a friend of my mom’s. They had a whole lotta cows and cowboys, too.”

Faith smiled at his southern drawl. He had lived his whole life in Texas and it showed.

She opened the door. “I don’t have a cow yet, but we will have to get one soon so you can have fresh milk to drink. There are lots of things you will learn about living on a farm, but one of the most important things is to respect the animals.”

A loud whinny came from inside. Kyle’s eyes grew round. “You’ve got a horse?”

She grinned at the excitement in his voice. “It is your horse now, too.”

“Can I see him?” His wariness gave way to tempered eagerness.

“It’s a she. Our mare’s name is Copper. You can see her in a minute. A horse is a very strong animal and can hurt you if
you aren’t careful. I want you to listen carefully to these two rules. Are you listening?”

He nodded.

“Never run behind a horse. Never. Always speak to them softly so that they know where you are. Can your repeat these rules for me?”

“I never run behind one and I speak softly so they know I’m there.”

“That’s right. Okay, come and meet Copper.” Faith led the way down the narrow center aisle to the first stall on the right. Copper hung her head over the boards to investigate the newcomer.

Kyle took a step closer to Faith. “She’s really big.”

“Wait until you see my neighbor’s draft horses. They are really, really big. They make poor Copper look like a pony beside them.”

Kyle started to hold out his hand but snatched it back when Copper nibbled at it. “Does she bite?”

“She is looking for a treat. I just happen to have something she loves in my pocket. I will show you how to feed her.”

Faith withdrew a kerchief from her pocket and opened it to reveal several apple slices. Taking one, she laid it in the center of Kyle’s palm. “Keep your hand flat. You don’t want her to think your fingers are the treats.”

He bravely held up the slice. Copper daintily nibbled it up. Kyle wiped his hand on his jeans. “Her lips are soft but her chin whiskers tickle. Can I give her another one?”

“Of course.”

He fed her two more apple bits and then grew brave enough to pet her nose. “Can you teach me how to ride her?”

“I can, but Copper is a buggy horse.”

“Like the ones I saw on the highway coming here?”

“
Ja,
just like those. Come, I have some more animals for
you to meet.” She smiled at Kyle and wondered what Adrian would think of her
Englisch
nephew.

Leading the way to the back of the barn, Faith stopped beside the last stall. “This is who I want you to meet.”

She pointed through the board to the farthest corner. Myrtle lay in the thick bed of hay Adrian had spread out for her. At her side, a coal-black cria lay beside her. He raised his long neck that still wobbled slightly and batted his thick eyelashes in their direction.

“Is that a camel?” Kyle climbed up the boards to get a better view. Faith was pleased to see his curiosity pushing aside his unease.

“It’s an alpaca. Her name is Myrtle and that is her new son. He doesn’t have a name yet. He was just born this morning.”

“Sweet. Can I pet him?”

“As long as his mother doesn’t object. Come, I will introduce you so that she knows you are a friend.”

Faith opened the gate and stepped inside the pen. Her feet sank into the soft hay, making her stumble. Myrtle shot to her feet in alarm. The cria struggled to its feet and ducked under his mother’s body to hide on the other side of her legs.

“What’s the matter with your leg?” Kyle had noticed her brace.

“I hurt it a long time ago and it didn’t heal well so now I have to wear this brace.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, but not today.”

Grasping the gate to steady herself, Faith spoke soothingly to Myrtle in Pennsylvania Dutch. When the new mother was calm, Faith crossed the pen carefully with Kyle at her side. Myrtle allowed them both to admire her baby, but the baby remained hidden behind his mother.

Kyle squatted down in the bedding and held out his hand. “Come here, little fella. I won’t hurt you.”

“Perhaps he wants a name first. What do you think we should call him? He’s black as night. Shall we call him Midnight?”

“No, that’s a girly name.”

Feeling put in her girly place, Faith held back a chuckle. “All right, what would you like to call him?”

“I want to call him Shadow.”

She considered it. “Shadow. I think that’s a very good name for him.”

By this time the cria had grown accustomed to their presence and ventured out from behind his mother. Kyle extended his hand. “Come here, Shadow.”

Shadow approached slowly, wobbling as he walked. Barely bigger than a tomcat with impossibly long legs, he was still trying to learn to use them.

It was clear he was as curious about the boy as the boy was about him. Kyle inched forward and touched the baby alpaca’s head. Shadow frisked away behind his mother but didn’t stay there. He returned after a moment to investigate further.

Faith said, “Kyle, I think he likes you.”

“I think so, too.”

“Since you have chosen his name, would you like to be his owner?”

“Can I?” Kyle looked up with uncertainty in his eyes.

“There are many things you will have to learn in order to take good care of him. It will be hard work. Are you willing to do that?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t mean for one day. I mean everyday.”