Saving Gideon Read online

  They had prayed separately and together that the Lord would bring Gideon around. And He had. Abram should have been a little clearer, but it was done.

  There had just been so much to pray about lately, what with Gideon’s grief and Ruthie’s doctor appointments.

  Abram stopped hammering. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, allowing the glory of the Lord to wash over him. Faith was believing that God would take care of the problems they faced. And he had faith. But there were times when faith became stretched too thin with barely enough to go ’round.

  Unfortunately, this was one of those times.

  Abram opened his eyes, readjusted his hat, and started back to work.

  “Annie!”

  Avery turned, amazed at how accustomed she had become to being called by her middle name.

  Gideon’s mother, Ruth, strode across the yard, her steps purposeful.

  “Can I have a word, please?”

  The urgency in Ruth’s voice made Avery pause. “Of course.”

  She had decided not to try and fit in with this gathering, nor did she try to separate herself. She simply moved around, watching the men work, the children play in the sun.

  Ruth linked her arm with Avery’s. “Walk with me.”

  They set off around the house and strolled between the rows of fruit trees growing out back. The concerned light in Ruth’s eyes had Avery tamping down the questions that filled her mind.

  Ruth leaned her head closer. “I don’t know how you came to be here.”

  How should she respond to that?

  Ruth continued. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is you are here. I’ve heard that you are stayin’ with my son.”

  Avery nodded.

  Ruth stopped. “Don’t break his heart.”

  Avery nearly tripped. “I—”

  “From one woman to another.” Ruth’s eyes implored her. “Please. Please.”

  “I’m only staying for another week or so.”

  Tears welled up in green eyes so much like her son’s and spilled down Ruth’s cheeks. “He’s already so sad. When I saw him pull up, I thought he’d finally come to himself. But then I saw you, and how he . . .” She lowered her chin. “He’s already lost so much.” She wiped her tears away, took a deep breath, and gazed into Avery’s face. “I shouldn’t be talkin’ about this.”

  Avery saw strength and resolve in Ruth’s face. “It’s okay.” Her heart went out to Ruth and the entire Fisher family. They’d lost so much. Gideon had lost his partner, and his faith. Ruth had lost her son.

  Ruth took Avery’s hand in hers, the calluses and roughened palms testimony to the years of caring for her family. Lines etched across her forehead. “Promise me, Annie. You seem like a good woman. I know you mean us no harm, but promise me, you won’t break his heart. He’s just now startin’ to heal.”

  Avery’s throat tightened with emotion. “I promise.”

  How could she say anything else?

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” Gideon chanced a sidelong glance at Annie, before turning his full attention back to the road. But in that quick second, he took in every detail of her appearance—flushed cheeks, smiling lips, windblown hair. She brushed against him with the natural sway of the horses, the sensation both sweet and unsettling.

  “I did.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. He wished it was long enough for her to pin back. It was just so distracting all over the place like that. “Your family is very nice.”

  “On average, you mean?”

  She shrugged. “Katie Rose is wonderful. Your mother welcomed me like I was her new best friend. I love Lizzie like a sister.”

  “Lizzie?”

  “Mary Elizabeth.”

  “Better not let Gabe hear you call her that.”

  “That’s what she wants to be called.”

  “Regardless.” He gave her his best Do not push me on this look, the same one that always had his Miriam hushing up in a hurry.

  Again, she tucked a strand of flyaway hair behind one ear. “I think a person should be addressed the way they would like, and not just told what they can be called.”

  So that’s what this was about. “You don’t like bein’ called Annie.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what did you say?”

  “Your brother frowns too much.”

  Jah, it was the truth, but he couldn’t blame Gabriel. He had a lot to deal with and not much patience for trivial things—like nicknames.

  “He expects too much of Lizzie . . . Mary Elizabeth.”

  “It’s our way.”

  “She’s not those boys’ mother.”

  “Neither are you.”

  She harrumphed, and crossed her arms over her front, but Gideon had the feeling the matter wasn’t entirely closed. She was a mouthy one, this Englischer Annie. He smiled and turned the buggy down the dirt road that led home.

  “And what of the women folk?” he asked, hoping to take the scowl off her face.

  “Beth and Hester are very nice. They kind of . . .”

  “Kinda what?”

  “I know these two women. They’re friends of my dad. Beth and Hester remind me of them—always busy, always finding something to get into.”

  Gideon chuckled. “That is for sure and for certain.”

  “A little on the annoying side, but you love them just the same.”

  “Sounds like you really got to know them this mornin’.”

  She nodded, the sunshine playing off her face and hair. “I think they’re just like that, you know.”

  “It is our way,” he said again. “We don’t have anything to hide.”

  “What about when the bishop finds out about your beard?”

  He turned so sharply that he almost spun the buggy around. Then he straightened out the horses and acted like nothing was wrong. “It’s no matter.”

  She put a hand on her chest. “I heard them talking. I don’t think they knew I was listening.”

  “Hester and Beth are always goin’ on about somethin’.”

  “They said you’ll be shunned.”

  He grunted, searching around for a way to change the subject.

  She cocked her head. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. It worries your family and your neighbors.”

  He didn’t reply. He hated that his mudder was concerned, but there was nothing he could do about it. The deed was done. They could shun him all they wanted, but Miriam and Jamie were still gone.

  “Is it because you’ve been skipping church?”

  “Let it go, Annie.”

  “But I—”

  “Let it go.”

  She sat back. “For now,” she said. Something in his tone must have gotten through her stubborn streak.

  Gideon choked back a relieved sigh.

  No one had questioned him since he had moved out here. Since the accident. No one but this Englischer. No one had asked him how he was doing, and no one knew the part he played. And he surely didn’t want Annie to know. She looked at him with awe and wonder. If she knew the truth, would she ever look at him that way again?

  “Whoa, now.” He pulled the horses to a stop halfway between the barn and the house, then turned on the bench seat to look at her.

  She stared back at him.

  He wanted to touch her wayward hair, trace a line between her newly-earned freckles. She was too close and too far away all in the same moment.

  She could feel it too. He knew it. Her eyes flared with recognition.

  “Annie, I . . .” He didn’t know what to say, but in the quiet moment that stretched between them, he needed to say something.


  “Yes?” She leaned toward him, the combined scents of lavender and woman filled his senses.

  He wanted nothing more than to give into temptation, to lean in and taste the tremble of her lips. “I—”

  “Yoo-hoo! We’re here.” Mary Elizabeth pulled in behind them.

  Gideon and Annie jumped apart. They clambered down opposite sides of the buggy as if it had caught fire.

  Gideon ran his thumbs under the edge of his suspenders, avoiding eye contact with Annie. “I’ll take care of the horses.”

  “Fine, fine.” She smoothed down the sides of her skirt. “I’ll go . . . learn how to cook.”

  “Gut, gut.” He gathered up the horses’ reins and led them the rest of the way to the barn, giving his sister and his niece a half-hearted wave of welcome.

  7

  By the time Avery turned in, the nighttime sky was littered with stars. She snuggled into her makeshift bed and closed her eyes with a contented sigh.

  All in all, it was a good day. Wunderbaar, Gideon would say. She was dead tired, but in a satisfying way, her head filled with all the new things she had taken in.

  She shifted and received a nudge from Louie in return. “Sorry, baby.” She scratched him behind his ears, and he settled into the crook of her knees. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t settle down. Events of the day kept replaying in her head.

  The work frolic was an amazing sight, everyone pitching in to help a neighbor in need. Too bad the rest of the world didn’t work that way. If it did, civilization would be a much better place.

  At first everyone had been a little standoffish, but by the time they broke to eat, Avery almost felt like she belonged. She watched the children play, and listened to the women talk about quilting and canning and what the deacon said at church last Sunday.

  It was the best Saturday morning she had spent in a long time, filled with rest, work, and meaningful conversation.

  Then came the afternoon. Not only was Katie Rose Fisher likeable and a good cook, she had the patience of a saint. She worked tirelessly, teaching Avery how to cook with Samuel sticking to her skirt like a half-eaten lollipop. Plus, their time together had given Avery something to think about besides Gideon and what almost happened between them. She had forced herself to let the cooking lesson take over and pushed the rest aside.

  Avery punched down her pillow and sighed again. It was infinitely satisfying to eat a meal she had prepared—even if it came with a lot of help. Between the three of them—Avery, Lizzie, and Katie Rose—they made oven-fried chicken, creamed potatoes, green beans, and sourdough rolls.

  Gideon had been so surprised to see what she had done. That is, when he finally returned from the barn. Avery couldn’t blame him. She had practically thrown herself at him in the buggy. She wanted to apologize for her behavior, but since the matter had been pushed aside, she didn’t want to bring it up again. He probably thought she was extremely forward. But it had seemed so natural to lean in closer to him, so right.

  Still, whoever said her instincts were good? Her track record where men were concerned was proof of that.

  So she had let her efforts in the kitchen serve as her redemption. And tomorrow she’d do it again. Katie Rose had written down detailed instructions on how to prepare a roast, mix biscuits from scratch, and fry bacon. Avery was excited to accept the challenge of preparing a meal all on her own. Maybe too excited.

  She couldn’t say that was the only reason she was still awake. She shifted on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable spot while not disturbing Louie.

  Avery growled in frustration, threw back the covers, and swung her feet to the floor, just too keyed up to sleep. Maybe if she read awhile. She turned on the gas-powered lamp at the end of the sofa and tried to remember where she had put the stack of books she’d found when she was cleaning. Maybe something in there would keep her interest.

  In the china hutch. That’s where she’d put them—four in all. One on natural fertilizers, another on getting the most out of your vegetable garden, a book on basket weaving, and a soft-bound copy of the Bible. By far the best of the four.

  She returned the others to the cabinet and curled up on the end of the sofa. She opened the Bible in the middle, planning on starting at whatever page it happened to be, but was surprised to find that it was written in German. Not that it was a problem. As a child, she had picked up a working knowledge of the language from their housekeeper. Then she had gone on to further study while in college. She wasn’t exactly fluent, but she could manage. It had been a long time since she had read anything in a foreign language. Maybe the challenge would keep her mind occupied enough to calm her thoughts. Half an hour tops, and she would be sleeping like a baby.

  Two hours later, she was still reading, making a list of words she didn’t understand and marking passages she wanted to return to later: the amazing story of Noah and his ark, Daniel in the lions’ den, and the entire book of Psalms.

  Louie whined. Avery stuck a scrap of paper in the Bible to hold her place, then scratched him under the chin. “All right, baby. We’ll go to bed now.”

  She turned out the light and settled back down on the sofa, a peace settling over her. Tomorrow was going to be a wonderful day. She had a great breakfast planned for Gideon, and a great supper too. She would truly show her talent as a cook. She smiled to herself as she finally drifted off to sleep.

  Sunday dawned beautiful and sunny. Gideon straightened up his bed in the barn and threw down fresh hay for the horses and Honey. For some reason he felt better than he had in months. It felt good to climb on a neighbor’s roof and repair damage done by the unpredictable Oklahoma weather. It felt fine to get out amongst his family and friends, something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. It felt good despite the stares and the whispers behind his back.

  His only regret in shaving off his beard was how it affected his mother. She had seemed downright heartbroken as she pressed her palm to his smooth cheek. How could he explain to her that it was no more blasphemous to shave his beard than to wear it now that his family was gone?

  He trimmed the hair from his upper lip, then put his razor away and walked the distance from the barn to the house with a smile on his face. His sister had spent the better part of the afternoon teaching Annie how to cook. It amazed him that she had reached her age without knowing even the basic principles, and that despite her wealth and privilege in the Englisch world she was willing to learn how to survive in his.

  He wondered what treat she had in store for him this morning. Bacon? Eggs? Hotcakes?

  As Gideon opened the door, Louie barked and jumped down from the couch. Annie rubbed her eyes and struggled to awaken.

  “Good mornin’.”

  She sat up, her voice groggy. “What time is it?”

  “Mornin’.”

  Her eyes popped open wide. She threw off the covers and jumped to her feet. “But I . . .” She ran a hand through her already rumpled hair. “Oh, no.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I wanted to make you breakfast.” She frowned. “I wanted to have it waiting for you when you came in. Biscuits and bacon and—”

  “But you overslept.”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I started reading and the next thing I knew it was late and . . .”

  Gideon looked to where she pointed. The Bible he’d received when he joined the church rested on the small table at the end of the couch. “You were readin’ that?”

  She gave another small nod.

  “But it’s in German.”

  “It took awhile, but I got most of it.”

  He tried not to shake his head at the wonder of it all. Annie, of the Englisch world, could understand German. Why was he so surprised?

  “I made some notes.” She reached for a pad of paper. “I was hoping that Monday
. . . maybe you could take me to town. I’d like to stop by the bookstore, look for a couple of things. I mean, it’s not like it’s a secret that I’m here, right?”

  “I s’pose not.”

  “And I wanted to get some flowers. For the front flower bed. Lizzie said it should be filled with bright colors.”

  He gave a quick nod. “I’ll take you, but on one condition. Tomorrow you make me that breakfast you just talked about.”

  “It’s a deal.” She smiled.

  And Gideon felt like he’d been kicked by a horse. The large shirt she wore covered her from neck to knees, but clung to her curves. He cleared his throat. “You can go change now.”

  She glanced down at herself, her cheeks reddening. “Right.”

  And she hurried off.

  After Annie was dressed, they ate a quick breakfast of granola and milk, along with slices of fresh peaches he’d bought at the store. He sure hoped that last snow hadn’t killed off all the Green Country fruit trees. Local peaches were so much better than the ones grown states away.

  “It’s Sunday,” she said, an entirely too innocent expression on her face.

  “Jah.”

  “I heard your mother talking about going to a different church district today.”

  “Jah.”

  She dipped her chin and cut those big gumdrop eyes toward him. “It sounded pretty special.”

  Just what did she mean?

  “Your mom would be really happy if you went with them today.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  Annie shook her head, her dark hair brushing against her neck. “She didn’t have to.”

  Gideon laid his spoon in his bowl and took them both to the sink, glad he had finished his meal. His appetite was sure gone now. “Leave it be, Annie.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Try.”

  He heard the scrape of her chair legs, and then she was beside him at the sink. “I like your family.”