Saving Gideon (29 page)

“You been there all mornin’?”

She stood and stretched, her back and knees popping with the motion. “I guess I have.” She stretched again. “I didn’t realize I’d been sitting here so long until now.”

Goes to show what the Good Book could do. “Have you had anythin’ to eat?”

She shook her head.

“Whadaya say we take us some food down to the creek and let Louie chase butterflies again?”

She tilted her head to one side as her lips curved upward. “You’re hungry?”

“
Jah
.”

“You didn’t eat after the service? I thought there was a big feast, enough food to feed the masses and whatnot.”

He’d eaten just enough so he could say he had. “Come. It’ll be fun.”

She looked at him for a heart-stopping moment, then she smiled knowingly. “Okay.” She nodded. “We’ll have a picnic.”

Gideon held the door open for her. Annie lifted the hem of her skirt as she crossed the threshold. Louie scampered in alongside them, their furry little chaperone.

As they worked side by side, gathering up leftover chicken, apples, pie, and the bread she had baked yesterday afternoon, Gideon wondered what would happen if she didn’t leave.

It was a crazy thought. Amish were more likely to jump the fence than the
Englisch
were to give up their worldly ways.
Ach
, she seemed to like it there well enough. Some would say she had adapted quite well to the ways of the Plain people.

But for how long?
How long before she grew tired of all the cooking and cleaning and weeding, all the plain old hard work? He heard the stories she’d told Mary Elizabeth. He had seen the fancy pictures in the magazine. Avery Ann Hamilton came from wealth and privilege—the likes of which he could hardly imagine. This type of life was new to her. Might even be considered fun for a while.

But how long?

He tried to shake away the persistent thought as he poured lemonade in a thermos and packed it inside a basket to take down to the creek.

He didn’t think she would stay, but he knew she wasn’t ready to leave. He supposed they would continue on like this until she grew bored and decided to head back home. It wasn’t so bad. She was good company, a fine woman. She was a hard worker, never gave up, and any man would be blessed to have her as his wife.

The thought stilled his hands.

“Gideon?”

The sound of her voice got him moving again. He tucked some napkins in the basket and placed a towel over the top. “
Jah
?”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.
Jah
.”

He could feel her gaze on his back as he turned toward the sink and washed his hands. He needed something to do other than think about the kind of wife she would be to someone else—and why it should worry him at all.

“Did you hear me?” she asked.

“You said somethin’?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Laughter replaced the concern in her voice and once again, Gideon breathed a bit easier. “I said I couldn’t bear to take these beautiful quilts down to the creek. Do you have an old sheet or something we could sit on while we eat?”

“In the hallway closet.”

“Right.” Those green shower flip-flops slapped the back of her heels as she headed for the closet.

The last thing he needed was to be alone with her on a sunny creek bed, but he could think of nothing that he wanted more.

Louie jumped to his feet and let out a yip of recognition.

“
Onkel
?”

Mary Elizabeth stood at the front screen.

He motioned her into the house. “Come on in.”

The door slammed behind her, its sound normal and comforting. But his niece’s cheeks were flushed, and her breathing heavy, like she had run all the way there.

“Is everythin’
allrecht
?”

She stood with her back to the door as if too scared to take another step.

Louie sat at her feet, stubby tail wagging, waiting to be picked up and cuddled close. The young girl just nodded, her hands tucked behind her back.

“Gideon, these are as exquisite as the rest.” Annie came around the corner, a load of quilts in her arms. “We can’t sit—oh, hi, Lizzie. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

Mary Elizabeth didn’t smile, or rush to Annie’s side, or do any of the other sisterly things he had noticed her do. Despite her declaration otherwise, something was wrong.

“They are what we have,” he told Annie without taking his eyes off his niece.

“But they’ll get dirty.”

“We’ll wash them.”

“In that wringer washer? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Then we’ll take them into town and use the coin-operated ones.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Mary Elizabeth said over him.

A frown puckered Annie’s brow.

“What Mary Elizabeth means to say is that it’ll be all right for you to wash them in town, Annie.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, looking at each of them in turn. She sensed the difference in Mary Elizabeth as well.

“I didn’t mean to listen in,” Mary Elizabeth started, near tears.

Gideon cocked his head. “Listen in on who?”

“The preacher,” she said. “And the bishop.”

Bishop Beachy had returned earlier in the week, but Gideon hadn’t given it a second thought until now.

“We were getting ready to leave, but Samuel had left his blanket in the house. I went in the back door to get it. I didn’t mean to listen, but I heard your name. They were talkin’ about you,
Onkel
.” Her tears flowed freely now. Annie retrieved a towel from the kitchen for Mary Elizabeth to wipe her face.

“The bishop said that it’s gone on long enough. They were disappointed that you didn’t stay longer after the service and that got them talkin’ about other things. He found out you had shaved your beard and that you—”

“Go on.”

“You had an outsider staying here.”

Annie turned to him, her voice half pleading, half apologetic. “Gideon.”

“What else did they say, Mary Elizabeth?”

“They’re . . . they’re gonna have you shunned unless you confess the errors of your ways.”

Just a few short weeks ago, the promise of a shunning wouldn’t have mattered to him at all. Now it did. It mattered a lot.

A few short weeks ago, he hadn’t known what he was living for. Today he did. And a shunning would mean separation from his family, his mother. That was one thing he couldn’t bear, not with the cancer treatments she now faced.

“Stop your cryin’. I’ll confess.”

“You will?” Annie and Mary Elizabeth spoke at the same time.

“
Jah
. I’ve done wrong in the eyes of the church and of God. Now, let’s go.”

“Where are you going?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

“On a picnic.” He should have invited her along, but he wanted to be alone with Annie. Today would most likely be the last time they would have this opportunity, and he planned to make the most of it.

Annie shook her head. “Gideon, I don’t think we should go.”

“Of course, we should.”

“But . . .” Once again the girls protested in unison.

“The elders will be by tomorrow to tell me their plan. I’m not about to let what’s left of a beautiful day burn away worryin’ about what’s to come.”

Slow to agree, Annie finally nodded.

Gideon smiled, then walked Mary Elizabeth to the door, hushing her protests as he escorted her to her bike.

He came back into the house as Annie slipped the Bible into the basket on top of their picnic fare. She hooked her arm through the wooden handles and headed for the door.

He held open the door for her. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she muttered. “Are you su—”

“Shh. Let’s just enjoy the afternoon.” He left off the
while we can
that hung in the air between them.

The sun was warm on the back of Avery’s neck as she and Gideon made their way toward the creek. He had finally convinced Mary Elizabeth that she couldn’t talk him out of having a picnic, so she reluctantly left for home. Avery wasn’t sure a picnic was the best idea either, but it seemed Gideon Fisher had a stubborn streak.

Secretly, she was glad. She had wanted to spend today with Gideon. And she could think of no better way than lounging about on a creek bank watching her once-prissy dog chase bugs through the tall grass.

She shook out the beautiful handmade quilt. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“
Jah
.” As if impatient with the whole situation, he took the quilt from her and spread it on the ground. Then he dropped into a sitting position and patted the space next to him. “Come,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get this picnic started.”

Avery knelt beside him, uncovered the basket, and started unloading their food. The afternoon was beautiful—better than beautiful—it was perfect.

They snacked in a companionable silence, intermittingly feeding Louie bites before he scampered off after butterflies.

Avery leaned back and raised her face to the sun. Golden rays of sunlight, a cool spring breeze, and good company . . . everything a picnic should be. She picked up the Bible from where she had set it when she emptied the basket. “Shall I read?”

He nodded and lay back, staring up at the sky as she opened to a passage.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,” she read slowly, translating the familiar message in Proverbs as she went along. “And do not rely on your own understanding; think about Him in all your ways, and He will guide you on the right paths. Don’t consider yourself to be wise; fear the Lord and turn away from evil. This will be a healing for your body and strengthening for your bones.”

She stopped. Did he know that she had chosen this passage on purpose, waiting for an opportunity like today to share it with him? Gideon was a smart man. Surely, he knew what she was trying to tell him. Now all he needed to do was heed the words of the Lord.

“Honor the Lord with your possessions,” she continued. “And with the first produce of your entire harvest; then your barns will be completely filled and your vats will overflow with new wine. Do not despise the Lord’s instruction, my son, and do not loathe His discipline; for the Lord disciplines the one He loves, just as a father, the son he delights in.”

She closed the Bible as the wind ruffled through her hair. Gideon didn’t say a word, just continued to stare at the sky as if soaking in what she’d just read. He had most likely heard those words many times before, but like she had, Avery hoped that he could look upon the message with fresh eyes, that he could see how it applied to his life now.

Even more so with what he would face tomorrow.

“I saw those alpacas at the auction.”

“You did?” Avery straightened up and gave Gideon her full attention. Since she had finished reading the Bible, he had hardly said two words. She could only hope that her message—the Lord’s message—had gotten through. “Why didn’t you mention it before now?”

Gideon shrugged. “Just didn’t.”

“Well?” She stared at him. “What did you think of them?”

He nodded. “They’re fine, I s’pose. Smaller than I thought. Still bigger’n sheep.”

“They’re good creatures.”

“
Jah
,” he said. “They seemed to be.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting. I wish I could have seen them too. Are they as pretty as in the pictures I showed you?”

He tilted his head to one side and squinted at her. “You don’t know?”

Avery shook her head.

“Why not?”

“I’ve never actually seen one. I mean, I’ve seen regular llamas at the zoo and—”

“Are you tellin’ me, Miss Annie Hamilton, that you’re tryin’ to get me to invest all my hard-earned money in creatures that you’ve never even laid eyes on?”

“I’ve seen them in pictures and in books.”

“I’m not sure that counts.”

“They say they’re very docile and beautiful creatures,” she said, attempting to change the subject.

“
Jah
. That they are.”

They must have left an impression on him if he was moved to talk about them nearly a week after the auction. Maybe he’d come around to her thinking after all.

She shifted and tucked her legs under her, the green flip-flops abandoned at the edge of the quilt. “Tell me about the service.”