On Her Own (8 page)

“I talked with Alice the other day, and she said Barbara is awfully tired and acting depressed. She thinks this baby drained Barbara’s strength more than the other three did and wonders if she’s feeling down because it might be some time before she’s up to working at the harness shop again.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t return to work at all. Maybe she should sell the harness shop and concentrate on raising her boys.”

“I’ve thought the same thing.” Faith sighed. “I think my good friend needs a husband.”

Noah raised his brows. “Have you got anyone in mind?”

“Not really, but—”

He reached for her hand. “Now don’t go trying to play matchmaker, Faith.”

“Of course not. I don’t know of any available men here in our community other than Bishop John. And he’s much older than Barbara, so I doubt she’d be interested in him.”

Noah squinted. “Do you really think age matters so much?”

“Well, no, I suppose not.” She poked his arm playfully. “After all, I’m a few years older than you.”

“Jah, but only a few.”

“Since I don’t know who would be right for Barbara, I promise I won’t try to play matchmaker, but I can sure pray about the matter. She needs a husband, and her boys certainly need a daed.”

Noah nodded. “Speaking of a daed, my boss, Hank, is a lot happier since he and Sandy adopted little Johnny.

She smiled, remembering how, soon after she’d returned to Webster County, she had talked to Hank’s wife about her inability to have children and how pleased Sandy had been once she and Hank had decided to adopt.

Faith placed both hands across her stomach and struggled with her swirling emotions. Despite the fact that she’d been blessed with two special children, she longed to have more. But that was not to be.

For the last few weeks, Barbara had kept pretty much to herself. She was tempted to go out to the harness shop to see how things were going but didn’t want Paul to think she was checking up on him. Besides, she felt uncomfortable and defensive around him.

Barbara stared out the kitchen window. Two Amish buggies and a truck were parked in front of the harness shop. Business was obviously picking up. If Paul weren’t helping out, they would probably have to turn customers away.

A knock at the front door halted her thoughts. “Now who would be using that door?” she muttered.

When Barbara opened the door, her friend Faith Hertzler stood on the porch. “Guder mariye, Barbara. I brought you one of Noah’s lemon sponge cakes.”

“Good morning to you, too. The cake looks delicious.”

Faith smiled, and her blue eyes fairly twinkled as she stepped into the living room. “I thought it might fatten you up a bit. You’re looking awful skinny.”

Barbara took the cake and motioned Faith to take a seat on the couch. “I’ll put this in the kitchen and bring us a cup of tea,” she said.

“Sounds good. Oh, and Noah attached a verse of scripture to the cake. I added a little joke on the back side of the paper.”

Barbara nodded and smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

A few minutes later, she returned with two cups of hot tea.
She handed one to Faith and took a seat in the rocker across from her. “How come you used the front door?”

“Noah’s out in the harness shop seeing about having some new bridles made. As I was heading up to your house, I spotted your three boys playing in the front yard and went to visit with them a few minutes.” Faith chuckled. “I was too lazy to walk around back after the kinner and I finished chatting.”

Barbara frowned. “Aaron’s home from school already? I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“School let out early today. It’s the last day of school, you know.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Barbara thumped the side of her head. She didn’t know why she hadn’t remembered. It made her feel as if she were losing control when she forgot something. “Where are your kinner? Are they outside playing with my three?”

Faith shook her head. “We left them with my folks. Noah and I are going to Seymour to shop; then he’s taking me to Baldy’s Café for some barbecued ribs.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s been awhile since we did anything without our two young’uns along.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Noah left Osborn’s Tree Farm a little early today, since things are a bit slow there right now.”

“I see.”

“Melinda was real happy about going over to her grandma and grandpa Stutzman’s,” Faith continued. “Her aunt Susie’s cat just had a litter of kittens.”

“Is Melinda still taking in every stray animal that comes
along?” Barbara asked, realizing that she wasn’t contributing much to the conversation.

“Oh, jah. That girl would turn our place into a zoo if we’d let her.”

“She’s never been one to sit around and play with dolls, has she?”

“No, only the one her real daed gave her before he died. She hung on to that doll until I married Noah; then she finally put it away in a drawer.” Faith shrugged. “I tried to get her to play with the faceless doll my mamm made when I was a girl, but she stuck that away, too.”

Barbara sipped her tea. “I guess some girls would rather do other things than play little
mudder
.”

“Like me—the girl who grew up telling jokes and yodeling and couldn’t have cared less about domestic things.” Faith smiled. “How’s the baby? I can’t wait to hold him.”

“Davey’s fine. He’s sleeping in his crib.”

Faith leaned forward and set her cup on the coffee table. “I’m glad he’s doing well, but I don’t think you are.”

Barbara felt her defenses rise. Had her friend come over to lecture her? “I’ll get my weight back as soon as my appetite improves,” she said through tight lips.

“You’ve got to eat enough for both you and little David. Nursing mothers need plenty of nourishment, you know.”

“I’m fine. Still a little weak, but that’s getting better. And I make myself eat even if I’m not hungry.”

Faith clasped her hands around her knees. “How’s your mental health?”

Barbara blinked. “What are you getting at?”

“You’re depressed. I can see it in your eyes and the way your shoulders are slumped.”

Heat flooded Barbara’s face. Faith knew her so well, but she hated to admit the way she felt. She thought it was a sign of weakness to be depressed. Up until David died, she had always been so strong. Even after his death, she had managed to avoid depression by keeping busy in the harness shop.

“It might help to talk about it,” Faith prompted.

Barbara shuddered as tears clouded her vision. It wasn’t like her to lose control. “Talking won’t change a thing,” she muttered.

“Maybe not, but it might make you feel better.” Faith patted the sofa cushion. “Come sit by me and pour out your heart.”

Barbara sighed and placed her cup on the small table to her left. Faith wouldn’t let up until she got what she came for, and Barbara was pretty sure the woman’s goal was to make her break down. Faith had said many times that God gave people tear ducts for a good reason, and folks shouldn’t be too stubborn to use them.

When Barbara sat beside her friend, she clenched her fingers and willed herself not to cry.

“Is it postpartum depression?” Faith questioned.

“Maybe.” Barbara felt her neck spasm as despair gripped her like a vise. “I think it’s a combination of things.”

“Such as?”

“Missing David, feeling bad because our youngest son will never know his daed, wanting to be out at the harness shop but knowing I’m too weak to do much more than care for myself and the boppli right now.”

“Your mamm’s looking after the other three, right?”

Barbara nodded.

“And Paul Hilty’s helping in the shop, so that gives you time to rest up and get your strength back.”

“Jah.”

“I don’t mean to lecture, but you should be grateful for all the help.”

Barbara crossed her arms to dispel the sudden chill she felt. A tear seeped out from under her lashes. “I am grateful, but I feel so guilty.”

“Guilty for what?”

“Because I–I’m useless.”

Faith reached over and gripped Barbara’s hand. “How can you say that? The boppli needs you to care for him and be strong.”

“I know if I get plenty of rest and eat right, I’ll regain strength physically. But I’m weak emotionally, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be strong again.” A sob escaped Barbara’s lips, and she clamped her mouth shut to keep from breaking down in front of her friend.

Faith patted Barbara gently on the back. “Go ahead and get it out. Let the cleansing tears come.”

“Why do I feel guilty when I’m sad?” Barbara wailed.

“Maybe because you’re used to being in control of things, and this is something you can’t control.”

Barbara couldn’t deny that she liked to be in charge. Even when she was a girl, she’d tried to tell her sisters what to do. Not that any of them appreciated it or did all she asked, but it had given her a sense of being in control to make plans and try to get them to follow her suggestions. “I wasn’t feeling sad like this
before little Davey was born,” she said with a sniff.

“Until now, you didn’t have time to be depressed. Since you’ve been forced to slow down, your feelings are rising to the surface.”

“Jah, maybe so.”

“Did you see the verse that Noah attached to the cake?”

“I didn’t take the time to look at it.”

“The verse reminds us that there is a time for laughter and a time for tears.”

Faith’s comment unleashed the dam. Barbara wept for all she was worth. When her sobs finally tapered to sniffling hiccups, she reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table and blew her nose. “Sorry for blubbering like that.”

“It’s all right. God knows your pain, and you have every right to cry.”

Barbara’s gaze darted to the Bible, also on the coffee table. “My faith isn’t so strong anymore. Not the way yours seems to be.”

Faith shook her head. “My faith wasn’t always strong. It used to be almost nonexistent. Remember how I was when I came home after living among the English, thinking I wanted to be famous and make lots of money as an entertainer?”

Barbara nodded. But her friend was a different person now, and God had blessed her in many ways. Noah was a wonderful, loving husband, and they had two beautiful, healthy children. Would Faith be as secure in her beliefs if she’d lost the man she loved? It was easy to talk about having faith in God when things were going well.

“I know it’s wrong for me to feel this way, but I’m jealous of you, Faith,” Barbara admitted.

“Why? What have you to be jealous of?”

“Your husband is alive, and everything’s going great in your life.”

Faith stared at the floor. “Noah and I have our share of troubles, too.”

Regret as strong as a Missouri king snake coiled around Barbara’s middle. She’d been wallowing in self-pity, and here was her friend going through problems she didn’t even know about. “What’s wrong, Faith? What kind of problems are you and Noah having?”

Faith smiled, but her soulful blue eyes revealed the depth of her pain. “The doctor gave us some disappointing news at my last appointment. We can’t have any more children.”

Barbara’s heart clenched. She knew how much her friend loved children and had hoped for another baby. “I’m awful sorry, Faith,” she murmured.

“I’ve come to terms with it. At least I have Melinda and Isaiah, and I love them both very much.”

“I know you do.”

“If it were God’s will for us to have more kinner, He would not have closed up my womb.”

Barbara couldn’t believe how matter-of-fact Faith was being. It reminded her of what Bishop John had said on the day of David’s funeral.
“Our faith teaches that when our time on earth is over, God will call us home no matter what. We just need to accept His will and move on with life.”

“You’ve come a long way from the rebellious teenager I used to know,” Barbara said. “Your strong faith and positive attitude amaze me.”

Faith gave Barbara a hug. “Your friendship is one of the things that helped me grow. I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Barbara dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “Danki. I appreciate that. But once I return to work, I’ll be able to make it on my own again.”

“It’s good to have you back in Webster County,” Noah Hertzler said, returning the strip of leather for the bridles he wanted.