“He might not be here if not for you,” said Nathan with conviction.
“I don’t know about that.” Abby focused on the child instead of the daed.
“I know it. Your actions saved my son. If you had stood around twiddling your thumbs like the authorities would have had you do, he could have died.”
She wanted to argue, to deny his assumptions, but her throat had constricted. Finally after a long moment, she whispered. “God choose who lives and who dies.”
“That’s true, but I’m grateful for what you did. I don’t care much about English laws. I’m glad they released you to come home to your family.”
“So you know about that drug I gave her?”
“Of course I know. I’m glad you tried to save my Ruth. You did no wrong in my book. This baby was Ruth’s choice—there’s no arguing that. And everything else that happened was God’s choice.” He gently took the baby back as Abraham began to stir. “I just thought you would like to hear that from me.”
“Danki, Mr. Fisher. I’m grateful to hear your words and pleased to see him thriving.” Abby smiled for the first time since their arrival. “I’ll enjoy watching him grow up over the coming years. I’m sure we’ll cross paths at barn raisings and the like.” They walked toward Nathan’s buggy, where his horse stood flicking his tail and pawing at the dirt.
“Maybe not. In six months, when my farm lease is up, I intend to move back to Indiana. My parents and sisters and brothers live there, so I’ll have help tending the boy. And Abe will grow up surrounded by plenty of cousins. One of Iris’ sons plans to lease my farm after I move out. Sounds like one of her boys wants a home away from the rest of the clan.” He laughed a rich, throaty sound. This made Abraham laugh too, while he kicked his legs within the confining quilt.
Nathan strapped the boy into the car seat. “Danki, Mrs. Graber. I will remember you each night in my prayers for the rest of my life. And when I tell my son about his mamm, I’ll also tell him about you someday when he’s old enough to understand.” Then he climbed up, tipped his hat, and drove away.
Once the buggy turned the corner, Abby exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank You, Lord, for Your gift of peace at long last.”
Twenty
Early October
Boots lifted her head from the porch boards to stare at a fat brown squirrel. The audacious rodent had the effrontery to gather acorns within twenty feet of the steps. If the dog weren’t tied up, that squirrel would be running for his life instead of gathering food for a long winter.
Isaiah smiled and patted Boots’ head. The new red collar and chain were for her benefit. Otherwise, the dog would romp and play and then end up gasping for breath. Within a few weeks, Boots would be good as new again. Isaiah’s readjustment period would take much longer, maybe even a full year. But when he returned to Shreve, Ohio, he would come back a different man.
And a beautiful, patient, kindhearted woman would be waiting for him—one who made the best banana nut bread in the county—only nobody had better tell his cousin Abby.
Catherine—his Cat. Each time he thought about her or saw her sweet face, he knew it would be worth any embarrassment, any discomfort he faced during the weeks ahead. He loved her and she loved him. Without means to express his heart or fully understand hers, they both just knew.
Yet he longed to communicate with a woman who seemed to enjoy communicating more than anything else. Cat liked talking better than swimming in the pond, riding horses across moonlit fields, or eating vanilla ice cream topped with fresh berries and whipped cream. Isaiah grinned as he remembered her attempts to teach him to lip-read. Every time he watched her lips, he yearned to lean over and kiss her…despite the fact that she had whacked him on the arm all three times he’d tried.
He’d hoped she might love him when their gazes met at the preaching service.
He’d figured she must love him to cull him from the herd of men gabbing outside the barn.
Then he felt certain of her love when she cried during her apology for the volleyball party. Catherine owed him no apology. She had tried to bring him back into the Amish flock with a pure heart. And for