The Farmer Next Door (13 page)

F
aith sat at her kitchen table with her checkbook in front of her on Thursday morning. She’d been able to pay her outstanding bills with the money she’d made at the market and she still had money left over. Her small bank account was growing at last.

In her wildest dreams she hadn’t imagined doing this well so quickly. She’d sold all the yarn she’d taken with her to the market and had taken orders for several dozen additional skeins plus eight of her white baby blankets. She would have to redouble her spinning and knitting efforts to keep up.

Adrian’s mother had invited Faith to join their co-op group and display her handmade wares each week on market day. With the cool days of fall not far away, yarn for warm socks, sweaters and mittens were sure to be in high demand.

Kyle came running into the room. He stopped beside Faith to grab a leftover breakfast biscuit from a plate in the center of the table. “My room is clean.”

“
Danki,
Kyle.”

“Is Adrian coming over today?”

She missed Adrian’s presence as much as Kyle did. Maybe more. She’d gotten used to having him around. Some foolish part of her heart continued to hope that he’d come over
with a new excuse to spend time with them, but it hadn’t happened.

“I doubt it, dear. His work in the orchard is done. You will see him at the next preaching service.”

“But that’s another whole week away.” Pieces of biscuit sprayed from his lips.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He swallowed. “I don’t want to wait until church. Can’t we go visit Adrian today?”

“No. Miss Watkins is coming today.”

Faith hoped his sudden pout wasn’t going to lead to a temper tantrum. “Why is
she
coming?” he demanded.

“It’s her job to find out if you are happy here. Are you happy?”

Confusion clouded his eyes. “Can I go play with Shadow?”

A pang of disappointment stabbed her. Why couldn’t he answer a simple question? “You may, but try not to get dirty.”

He darted outside, letting the screen door bang shut behind him.

Was he unhappy living with her? He seemed to be adjusting well to this new way of life. She had been worried those first few nights, but he’d not had a nightmare for the past week.

Faith closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her new life in Hope Springs was turning into a dream come true. Kyle was with her. The church community had welcomed her with open arms. Her business was off to a great start, and her share of the peach money had been an added bonus.

“Through you, Lord, all things are possible. I humbly give thanks for Your blessings.”

Little more than a month ago she had arrived in Hope Springs with barely enough to support herself. Now, she had enough to support Kyle, too. An important step toward his
permanent adoption. Would his social worker think it was enough? The Amish were frugal people. Faith didn’t need a large sum of money to live comfortably. Could Caroline Watkins be made to understand that?

An hour later, the sound of a car pulling into the yard alerted Faith to Miss Watkins’s arrival. Faith opened the door and waited as Caroline came up the steps. “Good morning, Miss Watkins. Do come in. How are you?”

Caroline said, “I’m fine. This shouldn’t take long today. I’ll make a quick tour of the house and then I’d like to talk to you and Kyle separately. Is that all right?”

“Certainly.” Faith took a seat at the kitchen table and waited. She tried to ignore the nervous dread that started gnawing at the inside of her stomach. She knew there was nothing to fear, but she was afraid anyway. This woman had the power to remove Kyle from her home.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Caroline came back into the kitchen with smile on her lips. “Everything seems in order, Mrs. Martin. How are you getting along with Kyle?”

Faith let out the breath she’d been holding. “It’s going well. He works hard and plays hard. We went to the Summer Festival in Hope Springs last week, and I think he really enjoyed himself.”

“That’s great to hear. Where is Kyle?”

“He’s down in the barn playing with Shadow, the baby alpaca. The two of them have become fast friends. Shadow is living up to his name for he follows Kyle around whenever the boy is near. Would you like me to go get him?”

“I’d rather talk to him alone.” Caroline went out the door.

Faith began her preparations for making bread. Keeping busy was better than pacing the floor and wondering what was going on between Kyle and Miss Watkins. What if Kyle
told her he didn’t like it here? What if he complained that he had too much work to do? A dozen unhappy scenarios ran through Faith’s mind. Her stomach rolled into a tight knot.

A few minutes later, Miss Watkins returned to the house. Faith dusted the flour off her hands, set her bread dough aside and turned around. “Are you finished already?”

Her worry knot doubled in size when she saw the green speckles on Miss Watkins’s clothes. Myrtle had been at it again.

“I’m so sorry. I should have warned you about Myrtle.” Faith wet a kitchen towel and handed it to Caroline.

Caroline wiped her face and brushed at her blouse. “Their spitting is a disgusting habit. I couldn’t find Kyle. Where else might he be?”

“He said he was going to the barn.”

“He isn’t in the barn. I called but he didn’t answer. He wasn’t with the baby alpaca.” She scrubbed at her shoulder.

“Perhaps he’s in the orchard.”

“Does he disappear like this often?”

“No, of course not.” Faith rushed outside and began frantically calling for Kyle. She and the social worker made their way from one side of the orchard to the other without any sign of the boy.

When they arrived back at the house and saw Kyle hadn’t returned, Faith said, “We should go to the neighbor’s farm and see if he is there.”

“Has he done that before?”

“No.”

Miss Watkins pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her slacks. “Can you call them and see if he’s there?”

“My neighbors are Amish. They have no phones.”

Miss Watkins bit her lip, then opened her phone. “We are wasting valuable time. I’m going to notify the sheriff that we have a missing child.”

Adrian lay on his back beneath his grain binder and loosened the last bolt holding the sickle blades in place. It came loose easily, and he lowered the bar to the ground. His cornfields would be ready to cut soon, and he needed to make sure his equipment was in good working order. Sharpening the sickle blades was his first priority.

“What ya doing?”

Adrian twisted his head around to see Kyle squatting beneath the equipment with him. “I’m getting my machinery ready to harvest corn. What are you doing?”

“I came to help you.”

“You have, have you? Where is your
aenti
Faith?” Adrian wormed his way out from beneath his equipment with the long row of blades in hand. He looked eagerly toward the house, but he didn’t see Faith anywhere.

He had stayed away from her the past few days because he knew if they came face-to-face, he wouldn’t be able to hide his longing or his fears. He hadn’t been ready for that. Was he ready now?

Kyle said, “She’s at home with that mean social worker.”

Faith wasn’t here. Adrian tried not to let his disappointment show. He focused on Kyle. “You must not speak badly of others, Kyle. You must forgive them for the wrongs they do.”

“Why?”

“Because that is what God commands us to do. Why do you say your social worker is mean?”

“’Cause social workers take kids away from their moms.” Kyle glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to see one swooping down on him like a hawk.

“Where did you hear this?”

“Dylan and Tyrell told me.”

The names weren’t familiar. Adrian asked, “Who are they?”

“My friends in Texas. They were in foster care with me because a social worker took them away from their mom. They told me not to like Becky too much cause a social worker would come and take me away to a new place, and one did. Dylan and Tyrell had been in three foster homes so they knew it would happen and it did.”

“Becky was your foster mother?”

Kyle nodded. “I liked her a lot.

Adrian sat on the steel tongue of his grain binder. “I’m sorry you were taken from someone you cared about, but I know that Faith loves you and she wants you to stay with her for a long time.”

Kyle turned away from Adrian and patted the side of the machine. “What does this thing do?”

“This is a grain binder. It cuts cane or corn into bundles of livestock feed.”

“How?

Adrian understood Kyle’s reluctance to talk about matters that troubled him. Wasn’t he the same way? Didn’t he avoid talking about his family because it brought the pain back sharp as ever?

He said, “The machine is powered by this gasoline engine. My team pulls it through the field while I stand up here to guide them.” He indicated a small platform at the front.

“Up here?” Kyle climbed the three metal ladder rungs and stood behind the slim railing that allowed the driver to lean against it and kept him from falling while he drove his team.

The boy grinned when he realized he was now taller than Adrian. He stretched his hands out pretending to hold the reins of a frisky team. “What do I do next?”

Adrian walked around to the side of the machine. “You
guide your team along the corn rows. This sickle bar cuts the thick stalks about a foot off the ground. The reel lays them evenly onto this wide canvas belt. The belt feeds the stalks into a mechanism that gathers them together into a bundle, then wraps it with twine and knots it.”

“Then what?”

“You must decide. See that lever in front of you?”

“Yup.” Kyle reached beneath the safety rail to grasp a metal handle.

“Pull it back and the bundle is kicked out the side of the machine where it will lay in the field until I come back and stack them into tepee-style shocks.”

“Why make a tepee out of them?”

These were things Adrian would have explained to his son if Gideon has lived. It was part of being a father, teaching the children how to farm and wrest a living from the land.

Kyle wouldn’t have anyone to teach him unless Faith chose to remarry.

Would she remarry for the boy’s sake? The thought didn’t sit well with Adrian. What if the man she chose was unkind to her or to Kyle the way her first husband had been? He knew a few Amish husbands who believed they should rule their families with an iron fist.

“Why build tepees with them?” Kyle asked again.

“Because they shed water if you put the bundles together in an upright position. As they dry and shrink, it allows more air to flow around the inside of the bundles and they dry better. I put about twenty bundles into each shock.”

“What if I push this lever forward?”

“Then the machine dumps the bundles onto a trailer that is pulled behind me, and my brother stacks them together so we can haul them to the barn.”

“I wish I had a brother. That would be cool.”

“It is sometimes, but sometimes they can be a pain in the neck.”

Kyle climbed down from his post. “Can I see Meg and Mick?”

The boy had taken a liking to Adrian’s team and had begged to ride one on the way home from market. Adrian hadn’t allowed it then as they were on the highway, but he saw no harm in it now.

“
Ja,
they are in the barn.”

“Can I ride one of them? They are like ten times bigger than the ponies at the fair.”

Adrian thought of all the work he had to finish. Put side by side with Kyle’s eager face, Adrian found only one conclusion. The work could wait.

In the barn, Adrian opened the door to Meg’s stall and led her out to the small paddock. He hoisted Kyle to her broad back. She was so wide that the boy’s feet stuck out straight instead of being able to grip her sides.

Adrian said, “Wrap your hand in her mane.”

“Won’t that hurt her?”

“
Nee,
it will not, but it might keep you from falling off.”

Grasping the halter, Adrian led the mare around the paddock. She walked slowly and carefully, as if aware of the precious cargo she carried.

Kyle grinned from ear to ear. “I can see all the way to Texas from up here.”

“How’s the weather down that way?”

Shading his eyes with one hand, Kyle said, “Sunny and hot.”

After the third time around the corral, Adrian stopped Meg and held his hands up to Kyle. “Come along. I have much work to do. I must sharpen my sickle and get my binder back together and Meg wants to have a good roll in the dust.”

“Okay.” Kyle reluctantly left his high perch. They walked
back into the barn, leaving Meg in the pen where she promptly lay down, rolled onto her back and frolicked in the dust she raised.

As they passed her stall, Kyle looked at Adrian. “Do you want me to
redd-up
her stall?”

Tickled by Kyle’s use of an Amish term, Adrian knew the boy would soon fit into their Amish ways and leave his
Englisch
past behind. He stared into Kyle’s eyes and saw he was dying to please.

Adrian stroked his beard. “Reckon I could use a good stable hand now and again.”

Puffing out his chest, Kyle asked, “Where’s your wheelbarrow and your shovel?”

“I will get them for you.”

When he returned with the requested tools and gave them to Kyle, Adrian leaned on the stall gate to watch the boy work. It took him a while, but he managed to rake up the mess and push the wheelbarrow back to Adrian.

Sighing heavily, Kyle said, “Alpacas are much easier to clean up after.”

“They are not as big as Meg.”

“No wonder Aunt Faith raises them instead of horses.”

Adrian chuckled. “No wonder.”

Kyle pulled at the Band-Aid on his palm. “It came loose.”

Adrian bent down to see. He removed the bandages and looked at the angry red sores. “You should have told me they were hurting you.”

“They don’t hurt.” Kyle put his hands behind his back.

“Lying is a sin, Kyle. I know you want to please and prove that you are a good helper, but Faith will have my hide if these get infected. Come up to the house and let’s get them clean.”