Where Grace Abides (10 page)

Sometimes Gideon craved conversation with someone who liked to talk about more than the heat of summer or the latest dress she was sewing for herself. Abby—well, she didn't think much, so she couldn't talk much either, not about anything except herself.

One of the reasons he liked the captain's company was that the man was so
interesting.
Gant had been a lot of places and didn't mind answering questions about his travels.

He also read books—almost all the time, it seemed—at least when
he wasn't working and sometimes even then when business was slow, not that there were many of those slow times anymore. Gideon had never been much for books. Neither Mamm nor Dat had encouraged them to read except for certain passages in the Scriptures or an occasional newspaper. He'd been more than ready to leave his schooling behind when he came of age. But the captain had given him free pick of all his many books, and Gideon had discovered that the more he read, the more he
wanted
to read. He actually liked learning when left to himself to read what he wanted, when he wanted.

As luck had it, Gant had invited him to share his and Asa's supper this evening. Gideon thought he just might take him up on it. He turned around and started back the way he'd come. He'd go to his room upstairs over the shop and clean up a bit, then go on up to the captain's house a little later.

He liked being around Gant and Asa just fine. Not only did they have some interesting tales to tell, but at times they could be pretty funny. This would also give him the chance to pick out a new book from the captain's shelves.

He stopped to pet Mac, who lay dozing in the shade, before climbing the outside steps up to his room. It struck him that he might be behaving a little strange, choosing the company of his employer and an older black man over the pert and pretty Abby Frey.

He felt a little surprised at himself, but it wasn't as if he had any kind of understanding with abby—even though lately she'd been hinting more and more that she'd like to get married. He wasn't nearly ready to think about marriage yet, and even if he were, he wasn't sure he'd want to be married to Abby.

For one thing, he couldn't afford her. Abby was an only child, and she'd been spoiled by her fairly well-to-do folks. Abby liked pretty clothes and lots of other fancy things that Gideon would never be able to pay for by working as a carpenter's helper. It would take a banker or a lawyer to keep Abby happy.

She wasn't some Amish girl like, say, Emma Knepp, who would
be satisfied with a farmhouse on her parents' land, living Plain with her husband, and a houseful of little ones.

The thought of Emma Knepp brought a picture of her sweet face and shy smile to mind. For a moment he stopped where he was on the steps, caught off guard by the unexpected thought. He quickly dismissed the image. After all, he wasn't so foolish as to think he would be satisfied with Emma's kind of life either, and he'd do well to remember that.

Trouble was he also seemed to remember Emma's pretty face more than he cared to admit.

 
12
 
G
ANT'S
G
IFT

And I spoke tripping Gaelic, and merry songs I've sung,
But now my wits are crazy and leaden is my tongue.

P
ATRICK
B
ROWNE

G
ant knocked on Susan Kanagy's door, then again. It stood open, a screened door revealing no sign of anyone's approach.

He would have thought that, given the troubles going on in their community, the Amish would have taken to keeping their doors closed and locked by now. But that didn't seem to be the case.

He waited another moment, then stepped off the porch, steadying the basket that hung over his arm. He started toward the side of the house but stopped when Susan Kanagy called out from behind him.

“Captain Gant!”

He turned and saw her coming around the house from the other side, carrying a pan of what appeared to be cheese and other food. Her smile was warm, her greeting friendly, as she approached him. “Have you been here long?”

“No, ma'am, I just got here. I hope I'm not bothering you.”

“Not at all,” she said, stopping at the porch steps. “Won't you come inside and have some Coffee?”

Gant closed the distance between them. “That sounds good,
but I'd best explain why I'm here first. I've brought something for Fannie. Is she about?”

“Yes, she and Rachel are in back in the springhouse, helping me gather some food to deliver. We have widows and a few families who need help, so we're going to pack up some things for them later.”

She glanced at the basket slung over Gant's arm. “That's a mighty big basket you're carrying around, Captain.”

“Yes, ma'am. And I need to get your permission to give it to Fannie, if you could just spare me a minute.”

Her gaze traveled from Gant's face to the basket on his arm, then back to him. “Why don't we go inside?”

“Ah…it might be better to stay out here,” said Gant.

She looked at him. “All right. But come up on the porch and let me set these things down.”

Gant followed her up the steps to the porch and waited until she turned back to him. “Now then, Captain, you've got my curiosity mighty sharp. What is it you need my permission for?”

Carefully Gant set the basket down on the top step and took off the lid, motioning that she should look inside.

She stooped over and looked. Her eyes widened and snapped to his. Then she looked again.

“You understand why I'd like Fannie to have this, Mrs. Kanagy?” he said.

“
Susan,
” she corrected him distractedly, still studying the contents of the basket. “Yes, Captain,” she said quietly. “I believe I understand. And you have my permission.”

“You truly don't mind?”

“No, Captain Gant. I don't mind at all,” she said straightening. Her voice was little more than a whisper when she added, “This is very kind of you.”

At that moment Fannie came running around the side of the house. “Captain Gant! Did you come to visit?”

The girl charged directly up to him, her smile wide and bright enough to break through a storm cloud. “Is it all right if I go talk to Flann? He likes me, you know. And I'm not a bit afraid of him, even though he's so big. Cecil is still bigger, and I'm not afraid of him either.”

“Fannie! Don't be so
bapplich
! So much chatter!” her mother cautioned. “Give Captain Gant a chance to catch his breath.”

Gant laughed, happy to see the girl's high spirits had returned after the recent trouble they'd had with the horses.

He saw Rachel then, coming from the side of the house, walking slowly, a sack of food in each hand, her eyes fastened on him. He swallowed, trying to keep his expression impassive, yet feeling as though his heart must be bleeding through his eyes.

He nodded as she drew closer. “Rachel.”

“Captain,” she said, her tone even.

He hated that, the way she called him as she had at the beginning, before they knew each other. So, then, he would no longer be “Jeremiah” to her?

He was aware that Susan Kanagy had fixed her eyes on some distant spot across the road, as if reluctant to observe their response to each other.

It was Fannie who broke the tension. “What's in that basket, Captain Gant?”

“Fannie—” said Rachel, a note of rebuke in her tone.

“It's all right,” Gant said. “Actually what's in the basket is a present for you, Miss Fannie.”

She giggled. For some reason the girl never failed to giggle when he called her
Miss Fannie.

“For me?” She looked at him, as if to see if he was merely teasing her.

“Indeed. Would you like a look?”

Fannie nodded so forcefully a few strands of hair escaped the little white cap she wore.

Gant gestured toward the steps. “You might want to sit down first.”

Again she studied his expression, but only for a few seconds before hurrying over to plop down on the top step of the porch. Balancing his cane with one hand and the basket in the other, Gant went to sit down beside her, while Rachel set her things down and watched from the bottom of the steps.

“Here you are, then,” he said, placing the basket in Fannie's lap.

She placed her hand on the lid, then hesitated. “It really is for me?”

“Just for you,” Gant said.

With that Fannie undid the catch on the lid and lifted it off. She stared down into the basket, drawing a sharp breath and holding it so long Gant wondered if the girl was going to pass out. He lowered his head a bit so he could also peek inside.

A wiry little pup lifted a fuzzy black head and stared up at them both, his eyes nearly as wide as Fannie's, his nose testing the air.

“A
hundli!”
she cried. “It's a puppy! Oh! Oh! A puppy!”

Gant grinned at her excitement.

She turned to him with an expression of pure joy on her face. “Is he really mine, Captain Gant? For sure and for certain?”

Gant tugged gently at one of the strings of her cap. “He's all yours, Fannie. But understand now—he's going to need a lot of care. This is the first time he's been away from his mother, you see, so you'll have to give him a great deal of attention. Oh—and he needs a name as well.”

Both Rachel and Susan Kanagy drew close enough to have a look at Fannie's “gift,” offering a generous amount of admiration and interest as Fannie lifted him carefully out of the basket and put him to her shoulder. The puppy immediately snuggled against her and began to lick her face.

Rachel met Gant's gaze for an instant, her eyes moist and intent with what appeared to be gratitude. He managed a smile, but fearing
his emotions might betray him, he forced himself to turn his attention back to Fannie. “I should tell you that he won't be this small for very long. I've seen his sire, and if he takes after him, he's going to grow up to be quite a large fellow. So you'll need to train him well.”

Susan Kanagy lifted an eyebrow in his direction.

Fannie saw her mother's expression. “Don't worry, Mamma,” she said. “I'll make good and sure he learns to mind. I'll do
everything
for him, you'll see.”

“That you will, daughter,” Susan said, her tone dry as she again cast a look at Gant. “Just how big
is
his sire, Captain?”

“Pretty big,” Gant replied.

Another eyebrow went up, but she didn't look all that fussed with him.

The sky had been darkening while they talked, and now a low roll of thunder sounded. Gant stood, bracing himself on the step with his cane as he leaned to stroke the pup's ears. “I should be getting along before it storms,” he said. “Flann doesn't much like thunder and lightning.”

“I think we all need to get indoors,” Susan Kanagy said. “You're welcome to stay and have supper with us, Captain.”

Gant wanted to stay. But he figured Rachel would be more comfortable if he left. “Thank you, Mrs.—
Susan.
But Asa would have my hide. He's cooking tonight, and I told him I'd be back in plenty of time.”

“Oh, please, Captain Gant! Please stay!” Fannie begged.

Gant smiled at her. “I'd best not, Fannie. Another time. I'll want to drop by again soon, so I can find out what you decide to name your new friend there.”

“Oh, I already know his name.”

“Do you now?” said Gant.

Fannie nodded. “I'm going to call him ‘Thunder.' That way I'll always remember the day you gave him to me.”

“Well, now, it seems to me that's a perfect name for him.”

With the pup already dozing against her shoulder, she moved closer to Gant and looked up at him. “
Danki,
Captain Gant,” she said, her face all seriousness. “I'll take real good care of Thunder. He's going to be my best friend.”

“I wouldn't be a bit surprised if that's not the case, Fannie. He's already taken quite a liking to you, it seems.”

“He's a wonderful-
gut
present, Captain! The best gift I've ever had.”

Another clap of thunder broke the quiet of the evening, and Susan Kanagy tried to hurry Fannie and Rachel inside. But when Fannie started for the porch, the pup in her arms, her mother stopped her. “Oh, no, Fannie. We can't have the puppy indoors—”

“Mamma! We can't leave Thunder outside! Not his first night away from his mother—and in a storm! He won't be any trouble, Mamma! I'll make sure he doesn't bother you.”

“Fannie, we've never kept our animals indoors—”

“But, Mamma, Thunder isn't just an animal. He's
special
! He's a special present. Please, Mamma! Please, don't make him stay outside by himself! He'll be scared!”

Susan looked at her, then at Rachel, who smiled and nodded slightly. “Well, I suppose it can't hurt for now, since he's still so small.”

Gant watched, not surprised to see Fannie win her mother over. The girl then hurried inside, clearly anxious to make her move before her mamma could change her mind. Just inside the screened door, she turned and waved, flashing Gant an enormous smile.

Gant turned to Rachel, pleased to see that her smile didn't fade when she looked at him. “How you've blessed my little sister, Jeremiah. I haven't seen her this happy since—I can't even remember when.”

He was relieved to hear her use his name again.

“I first thought I'd find her a kitten,” he said, “to help make up for the ones that went missing. But I know there's no replacing something you've loved once it's lost to you.”

She looked at him, then quickly glanced away.

Not wanting any more awkwardness between them than already existed, he hurried to add, “As I told Fannie, he's going to grow up to be a very big dog. And I understand from Jonah Weatherly that his sire is quite the fine watchdog. I thought—with everything that's been going on—it might be good to have a watchdog on hand. A big one.”

To his surprise her lips again curved in a faint smile. “I think it might take him a while to grow into his father's reputation, though, don't you?”

Gant relaxed a little and returned her smile. “Aye. From the looks of him, he does have a bit of growing to do.”

They stood looking at each other in silence for a few seconds more. But when thunder again rumbled in the distance, she said, “You should go before the storm settles in.”

He nodded. “I expect so. So—it was good to see you again, Rachel.”

She turned her face slightly away. “And you,” she said softly.

He didn't want to leave her. He wanted more than anything else to stay. He wanted to drink in the sight of her, to touch her. “Rachel—”

Still not looking at him, she lifted a hand as if to stop him from saying anything more. “I—should get inside.”

Gant drew a long breath. “Aye,” he said. “I'll just be going, then.”