Faking Faith (16 page)

Chicken
, I wanted to add.

“Faith, please,” he said. “I have to figure it out. This isn’t something you run off to deal with without thinking it through and praying on it.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Look, Asher. Abigail is my friend. I’m only here for a little while longer and the thought of her ending up with that creep makes me feel physically ill. I want to help her, but I don’t know how. I need you to do something.”

“She may be your friend, but she’s
my
sister,” he replied, looking at me pleadingly. “And this is
my
family. I appreciate your concern and the fact you told me about what happened, but at this point, it’s not really your business. Or your place to help.”

Ugh, not that men-in-charge crap. Not now. I couldn’t stomach it anymore.

“It’s not my place
as a girl
to worry about what happens to her? Is that what you’re trying to say?” I said. “Because the men in your family are doing such a bang-up job of protecting her. Obviously.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief.

I walked up to him and stood right in his face. “Do something about it, Asher. Help her. Please. She needs you. Can’t you see that?”

Asher looked down into my eyes, which I knew were flashing and tearful. He stared, and I stared back. Neither of us blinked. He leaned forward just slightly.

And suddenly I was kissing him. Again.

TWENTY

I
went through the next day in a daze. My brain felt overloaded with information and complications, and all I wanted to do was find someplace quiet and lonely to sit and think.

But there was Abigail, trying to act like her normal cheerful self. There was a desperate shininess to her eyes, though, and I could tell that underneath she was in a panic, thinking about the reason behind Beau’s visit tonight.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, about a hundred times.

“Of course!” she’d reply, far too brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

And then there was Asher, throwing secret smiles at me, making my heart flutter and my stomach drop at the same time, creating such a weird combination of complete infatuation and total guilt and weird annoyance whenever I was around him. I felt drained of energy whenever he got within ten feet of me.

The night before, we’d stood in his room and kissed for ten whole glorious minutes, until I got control of myself and rushed out the door before he could say anything. Abigail was softly snoring upstairs, and I slipped into bed feeling both exhilarated and like an idiot.

How could I be doing this? How could I trust a guy who didn’t even know who I really was? Especially when I knew he believed that what we were doing was sinful. Was he just getting off on how forbidden it was, or did he actually care about me?

I wanted to ignore his existence while other people were around, but the fact that all I wanted to do was yank him close and make out for at least three days straight created somewhat of a problem.

And the way he would glance at me, full of longing, convinced me he was having a similar issue.

That afternoon, we found a few minutes to speak alone when we were out in the garden picking some early cherry tomatoes. Abigail had gone into the house to find more baskets, and I stepped nearer to where Asher was crouching.

“So have you figured it out?” I whispered.

“Figured out what?” he replied, not looking at me, but putting his warm hand on my bare foot. “How we end up kissing all the time?”

I laughed softly and crouched down next to him.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but while we’re on the subject, how
does
that keep happening?”

He sighed, standing up straight to wipe his face with the bandana again. It was such a cute gesture that it took all the willpower I had not to reach out and hug his legs.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down at me. “I … can’t seem to resist you.”

“That feeling is mutual,” I said.

His brow furrowed. “It’s wrong, you know,” he said. “You can’t keep letting me do that to you. It’s dishonorable.”

“So now it’s my fault?” I asked.

“Your … your heart should be wh-whole,” he said, struggling for the words. “For your husband.”

Ugh.
Time to change the subject. “What I was really wondering is if you’ve figured out what you’re going to do about Beau.”

He moved away, and didn’t reply for so long that I finally picked up a half-rotten tomato that had fallen on the ground and chucked it at his arm.

“Hey!” he said, throwing it back at me.

“I’m serious,” I said. “What are you going to do?”

“I guess I need to talk to Abigail about it,” he said. “I don’t know when.”

“But Beau’s coming here tonight and—”

“Faith, I know that. But we don’t know why or what’s going on. It … it could just be a normal dinner and we’re getting all worked up for—”

“It’s not, you know it’s not! Abigail said he’s never come on his own like this, without Rachel and Elijah. And he’s never come this early. Your dad is making a big deal about some conversation they’re going to have.”

Asher sighed. “I know.”

I stood up, no longer caring if anyone was observing us.

“I meant what I said before. If you don’t do anything about this, I will!”

“Shhh, Faith!” he said, looking around anxiously. “I believe you, okay? But I just really think I need to talk to Abigail first—”

“But then she’ll know that I told you!”

“Maybe I could get it out of her some other way.” He glanced anxiously around the garden, and I felt terrible. I was beginning to think I shouldn’t have told him anything.

“Maybe,” I said, and sighed. I looked over at the house and saw that Mr. Dean was watching us from the kitchen window. His face was unreadable. When he noticed me looking at him, he turned away.

“Asher, what would you do if you told your dad and he pushed ahead with it anyway?” I asked. “What if he still made Abigail marry that guy? What if he found someone for you to marry who
you
didn’t like?”

Please say you’d fight it. Please say you’d laugh in his face and leave this craziness behind.

I knew it was an irrational and cruel thought. This life was what Asher knew and believed in. Why would he leave?

He glanced over at me, and then off across the garden toward the fields. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m having such a hard time figuring this out. Because I guess I’d do what I’m supposed to do. Stay with my family and be a good son.”

My heart sank.

“Even if … ”

“If what?”

“If you figured out you disagreed with your dad? And if you really wanted a … a different life?”

“Like what kind of life?”

A normal life.

“I don’t know … like in a city or something.”

“What do you know about living in a city?”

I shrugged. “It’s just something I’ve thought about. I mean, I’m sure not everyone who lives in cities is bad. I bet there are all kinds of people. Good people, even. People you would like.”

He watched me with that same quizzical look, like he was trying to categorize me and was failing at it.

“I guess I’ve thought about it sometimes,” he admitted. “But it would mean the end.”

“The end?”

“The end of being his son.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you?” I suggested, thinking of my parents, who hadn’t disowned me for my stupid mistakes. And at least seemed to forget about them for periods of time.

“Doubt it,” Asher said.

“Doubt what?” said Abigail from nearby. She had snuck up behind us.

Both of us turned to face her entirely too quickly, and she gave us a suspicious look.

“What’s going on here?” she said.

Asher and I looked at each other, then back at her.

“Um … ” I said.

“We were talking about Beau,” said Asher. “We were talking about tonight.”

“Oh.” Abigail’s eyes narrowed even more as she looked at me. “What about Beau?”

I glanced at Asher, sure that we both radiated guilt. Abigail caught on instantly.

“Did you tell him, Faith?” she demanded. “Did you … I can’t believe you did that when I asked you not to!”

“She’s worried,” said Asher with a helpless shrug. “We both are. I’ve just … I’ve just never liked him very much either, okay? I wasn’t surprised. And I just want for you to—”

“Faith, I told you that stuff in confidence,” Abigail hissed at me, with more hostility then I’d previously thought she had in her entire body. “I guess that was a mistake.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay quiet,” I said desperately, looking from her to Asher. I felt so awkward, being in the middle of two siblings. Me and my big mouth had caused this.

No, Beau and his grossness caused this,
said a voice inside me.

“I was thinking that I should … I should tell Dad,” Asher was saying. “He should know about what Beau did.”

“What?” Abigail crossed her arms tightly. “No. Just … absolutely not. Don’t you dare say anything to Daddy.”

“But, Abi—”

“I will never forgive you,” she said, cutting him off. “And how do you know you’re not getting in the way of God’s plan for me? How would you feel about that?”

Asher tried to put his hand on her shoulder. “But how do you know, Abi—”

“It was my fault, okay?” She shook his hand off angrily. “Whatever happened was my fault and I don’t want Daddy to know. If you tell him, I’ll … I’ll tell him about you two.”

Asher and I stared at her.

I didn’t like the way she said that. My stomach clenched.

“Because look at you,” she spat, shaking her head slowly. “You’re practically … canoodling out here! And don’t think I didn’t notice you two last night, coming in from the barn.”

“Abigail, you have the wrong idea … ” I said, even though she really didn’t have the wrong idea at all.

“This is just great!” Abigail snapped, glaring at her brother. “How dare you try and get into my business and tell me what to do when you’re so weak and worldly. You’re supposed to be a leader for me and someone to look up to, but all I see is weakness.”

Asher looked stung to the core, his eyes wide. After blinking at her for a few moments, he turned and walked quickly away, heading for the barn.

“You know it’s true, Asher,” Abigail called after him. “While I’m praying and striving to continue on a godly path to marriage, you aren’t even
trying
.”

We both watched him go.

“Did you hear me?” she yelled. “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll … I’ll tell! About you!”

Asher didn’t turn around. He disappeared into the open barn door, his shoulders slumped.

“Please, Abigail, you need to—”

She turned toward me and held up her hand. “No. Do not dare,” she said through clenched teeth, her face red. “Do not even presume to think you can tell me what to do or act like you know the first thing about what I need to do.”

And then she looked me square in the eye and said one word. Like it was the worst word in the whole English language.

“
Dylan
.”

TWENTY-ONE

I
blinked at her, feeling weak in the legs.

“What?” I said, hoping I just had an auditory hallucination.

“I know the truth,” Abigail said. “Your name isn’t Faith. You’re not from southern Wisconsin. I bet you’re probably not even a Christian. You’re just some weird girl who thought it would be funny to come here and gawk and pretend to be someone else for a while.”

It’s very possible that my heart stopped for a moment.

“Abigail, please don’t—”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed, closing her eyes tight.

I glanced over at the porch, where several of the little kids had assembled and were watching us with interest. At least Asher had run away. I couldn’t imagine facing both of them at once.

“How long have you known?” I finally asked, my voice cracking.

“Since this morning,” she said. “I was in my room. Your mom called your cell phone and I picked it up, planning to take it to you. But then she asked for Dylan and I said ‘Dylan who?’ and she said ‘Dylan Mahoney, the owner of this phone.’ Apparently she thinks you’re at some sort of camp in Springfield, which was interesting. I didn’t correct her, so she probably doesn’t suspect anything. She asked that you call her back.”

Well, this is just great. Thanks a lot, Mom.

“And while you and Asher were out here having your little powwow about my life, I decided to Google the name Dylan Mahoney.”

I stared down at the ground, feeling like I’d just had the air sucked out of my lungs by a vacuum cleaner. It was obvious what that meant, and what she had found. “Oh.”