Walk Through Fire: The Faith in Peril Trilogy, #3

By Holly Newcastle

Book 3 of “The Faith in Peril Trilogy”

Assisting a neighbor in need is the Amish way, and, when Mr. Fisher’s health deteriorates, Ruth Glick discovers him unconscious on the floor. After help arrives, she is forced to contend with Mr. Fisher’s wayward son, Gabriel, who has left the Gmay to live with the ‘English’.

Ruth plans to marry Isaac Zook, whom she has been courting for more than a year. After a night of singing, disaster occurs in the form of a devastating house fire. While bravely rescuing her younger brother, Abe, from the flames, Ruth suffers severe burns, marring her once lovely features. This prompts Isaac to have a shocking change of heart, ending their courtship.

Struggling in recovery, an unexpected friendship with Gabriel develops, regardless of the fact that he has been shunned. There is something about Ruth he finds intriguing. This damaged, fragile woman has a backbone of pure Amish steel, and, despite his determination to live with the ‘English’, he finds himself in a quandary. Love, in all its forms, is about to sweep him off his feet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: All Is Calm Publishing
• Release date: Aug 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386703938

Book preview

Chapter

1

Lancaster County,

Pennsylvania

1888

Ruth, my darling, said a voice. "Are you going to sleep

all

day

?"

I opened an eye, finding Mam standing over the bed. She smiled slightly. Your sister’s come to visit.

Still groggy from the nap, I asked, "

Which

one

?"

Anna.

Topper, our cat, lay curled up next to me. Oh … I thought I had heard the cry of a baby. All right. I’ll be down in a minute.

She can’t stay much longer.

"Thank

you

,

Mam

."

She left the room, closing the door behind her. I slid from the bed, yawning, while lifting my arms over my head. Being the only girl in the family who hadn’t married yet, the bedroom belonged solely to me, to do with as I wished. My younger brothers, Jacob and Abe, slept across the hall. Rebekah, the oldest, had married with two children and a third on the way, while Anna had given birth to Faith ten months ago. My time would come—sooner than later, because I had been courting Isaac Zook for nearly a year and we would be married in the fall. The wedding plans were well

under

way

.

I shook out the wrinkles from my dress, adjusting the apron. Then I brushed my hair and pinned it securely, hiding it beneath a black kapp. I lacked a mirror, as we did not own one, so I could only assume everything looked tidy and presentable. After slipping into a pair of shoes, I left the room, hearing voices in the parlor.

There she is, exclaimed Anna, smiling. Lazy as ever. She held a baby, who wore a tiny

white

kapp

.

My sister was married to Bishop Elijah Hartzler, who had a rather sad history, as his first wife had died in childbirth. Elijah had been terrified something dreadful might happen to Anna, fearful of more tragedy, but she had given birth without incident, presenting him with a beautiful, healthy girl. I had never seen a man so relieved or happy. He adored his daughter, who received at least a hundred kisses

a

day

.

Good morning,

I

said

.

Ahem, afternoon,

corrected

Mam

.

I yawned. Already? Anna sat on the sofa, and I joined her, staring at Faith, who fussed, wanting to be placed on the floor to crawl around. At ten months, she meant to touch everything, pulling books off shelves, playing with knickknacks, and generally making a nuisance of herself.

Oh, this one won’t sit still. Anna let Faith slide to the carpet, where she crept towards the shelf. "Gracious me. Here

we

go

."

So, said Mam. We’ve the new quilt to discuss. Ruth never did say what colors she wanted. We’ve only five months until the wedding. It must be started soon or it won’t be done in time. It needn’t be too elaborate.

I don’t really have an opinion on colors.

What are Isaac’s favorites? asked Anna. "What can’t he stand? This will be on your bed forever,

you

know

."

Um … I shrugged. Domestic details did not concern Isaac in the least. Maybe …brown and white.

Or brown, white, and blue? Mam looked thoughtful. I’ve scraps of blue and brown. I can buy the white.

I suppose.

Faith had pulled herself up, standing next to the bookcase, excitedly eyeing one of Dat’s decorative wooden boxes. No, darling, said Anna, getting to her feet. That’s not for you to touch. She picked her up, but the baby protested immediately, wanting to grab the pretty things she

had

seen

.

I’ve some old toys in a box, said Mam. "That’ll keep her occupied. I’ll

get

them

."

"It’s all right. We’re going soon. It’s naptime anyhow. Elijah should be home from the

auction

now

."

I glanced at my sister. "What did

he

sell

?"

He bought cows, I believe. Faith squirmed in her arms, wanting to be let down. "Oh, stop that, you

jiggle

worm

."

Here are the toys. Mam set a wooden box on the floor. "There are blocks and trains and things. Come have

a

look

."

Anna knelt, letting Faith explore the items. "How is Mr. Fisher? Mam said you’ve been

helping

him

."

He’s fine, but he’s not in the best of health. Our elderly neighbor, Mr. Fisher, had lost his wife several years before. I went to see him often during the week, preparing meals and cleaning his home. "The ‘English’ doctor says he’s suffered a softening of the brain. His speech is garbled, but he’s coming along the best

he

can

."

"He should live in a Dawdyhause, said Mam. It’s a shame his family is so

far

away

."

His son is nearer, said Anna. "But he left the church a long time ago. I vaguely

remember

it

."

I had heard about this, but I could not recall the details. His daughter, Victoria, came last week. She asked him to live with her, but he refused. He should live with someone. He’s terribly weak, but he’s quite stubborn.

Gabriel Fisher, said Mam. That’s the wayward son. I’ve seen him in town often enough. He owns a saloon.

Faith had nearly emptied the entire box, tossing wooden toys upon the braided carpet. Oh, gracious. What a mess. Anna shrugged. She’s yet to learn to tidy things after playing.

It’s fine, said Mam. When you were growing up, my house was always a disaster. She sat on the floor next to her granddaughter. I do love my grandbabies. Faith babbled, while tossing a toy at Mam. She held it up. This was Abe’s favorite. It was a wooden man without a face. There are more too. There’s a woman and a child somewhere.

I need to go back over tonight, I said. I have to bring his supper.

Everyone loves your cooking, said Anna. "Elijah’s always asking when Ruth will come back and cook. I should be jealous. He never wants to eat what

I

make

."

Practice. I got to my feet, remembering my purpose. If you practice enough, it’ll eventually be edible.

Not exactly, she muttered.

I giggled at that, striding into the kitchen to make something for Mr. Fisher. Ham hung in the smokehouse, which could be cut into pieces for a stew or a casserole. While I thought about the recipe, Mam and Anna continued to visit in the parlor, their voices inaudible. I decided on a ham and potato casserole, boiling diced potatoes in a pot on the cook stove.

I have to be going, said Anna, who approached. "Oh … that

smells

nice

."

Onions in butter. It’s for the sauce.

"Mr. Fisher’s lucky to have you caring

for

him

."

"I’m not the only one. There are other neighbors

who

help

."

But your food is the best. She held out her arms. I’m going.

I hugged her. I’ll visit this week, I promise.

Rebekah’s coming on Wednesday. Come then. If it’s warm enough, we can make a picnic and let the children play outside.

Being the beginning of May, the mornings were still chilly. That sounds lovely. I’ll make strawberry shortcake.

Her smile brightened. "They’d

love

that

."

"There are so many strawberries now. Too many

to

eat

."

Make extra for Elijah.

I grinned. "

I

will

."

Mam approached with Faith, who fussed. Someone’s grumpy and tired. There were voices in the backyard, and we all glanced out the window above the dry sink. It looks like Jacob and Abe are home from school,

said

Mam

.

My brothers appeared at the door a moment later, carrying metal lunch boxes. It smells nice! exclaimed Jacob. What’s cooking?

"I’m making dinner for a neighbor. I’ll leave a little for you

and

Abe

."

Dat appeared as well, taking off his hat. He had come from the barn, as fibers of hay stuck to his jacket. Afternoon. He glanced at Faith, beaming. There’s my beautiful granddaughter.

Your tired granddaughter. Anna took the baby from Mam. We’re going. I’ll see you again on Wednesday.

Did Elijah buy his cows?

asked

Dat

.

Several young stock heifers, hopefully, said Anna. I’ll find out more later.

He grinned. Excellent.

It’s more animals to tend to. She smiled tiredly. "The work never ends. Then there’s church business. I know you won’t envy me, but I’ve Bishop Graber at the house at least twice a week. There’s always something happening in the Gmay. Then he spends hours preparing sermons."

Mam touched her shoulder. "Yes, but you’re strong enough to handle it all. Elijah’s embraced being bishop, and he’s supported by a capable wife. There’s a reason God chose you,

my

dear

."

True. The light of love lit Anna’s eyes. "I’ve never been happier. My complaints are useless. I’m gladly up all night with Faith. Although we go to bed with dirty dishes, I’m quite happy to do them the next day. I fail as often as I succeed, but I

don’t

mind

."

That’s because you’re in love with your husband and you make each other happy, said Mam. None of the rest matters anyhow.

Abe sat at the table, holding his face in his hands. Ugh. Must we hear this? Love talk makes me sick. All you girls talk about is kissy, kissy, kissy.

Just wait until you’re courting, I giggled. You’ll eat those words.

I’m never courting! Girls are stupid.

Your brother, David, is happily married with three children now, said Mam. He doesn’t think girls are stupid.

Dat ruffled his hair. Just wait till you’re older, son. When you have a pretty wife who makes you Whoopie pie for dessert, you’ll think her brilliant.

Ah … blarg.

I have to go. Faith squirmed and fussed in Anna’s arms. "This one needs a nap. See

you

soon

."

Goodbye, my dear,

said

Mam

.

Until Wednesday,

I

said

.

After Anna had gone, I finished cooking, baking the casserole for an hour, while helping Mam prepare supper. I planned to bring Mr. Fisher the food and then return to eat with my family. My brothers loitered in the kitchen, pretending to do school work, all the while waiting for a portion of the casserole I had promised them. When it came out of the oven, I gave them each a bowl, watching as they ate. They devoured every morsel. You would think they had been starved for

a

week

.

I’m off, I said, heading for

the

door

.

Mam had laid out material, spreading it over the sofa and floor in the parlor. "Have a safe ride,

my

dear

."

"

I

will

."

She held a pair of scissors. I’ve enough scraps for the quilt, but I need white.

We’ll go to town tomorrow.

"You will help me,

won’t

you

?"

I approached the door. Yes. Goodness. There’s so much to do. I have to make my dress too. Excitement rushed through me at the prospect of being married. "Isaac and I were going to look for property as well

this

week

."

Mam smiled. "The old Lengacher farm might be nice, but it

needs

work

."

It’s on the list. I’ll be back soon! Leaving the house, I headed for the barn where Dat worked, pounding nails into a ladder that had been broken. I need Flossy.

"I’ll

get

her

."

Dat helped to harness and hitch the horse to the buggy, allowing me to depart within five minutes. All through the drive, the aroma of food from the casserole teased me. Other conveyances traveled as well, and I waved to neighbors I recognized. I spied my sister, Rebekah’s husband, Daniel, working in the field, tilling soil. The growing season was well underway, the crops for the year being tended to. Corn had just begun to show in the fields, which had been planted in neat,

straight

rows

.

Mr. Fisher’s farm had run wild, overtaken by native grasses and weeds, as his health prevented him from managing the land. A small kitchen garden grew behind the ramshackle house. Neighbors arrived often to weed and water and harvest the produce. They had erected a fence to keep the rabbits away, but none had come today, because there wasn’t a buggy in sight besides my own. An old scarecrow jutted from the ground, but the hay for the hair had been picked away by birds and the clothing hung in tatters.

I tied Flossy to the hitching post, not intending to stay long. I wanted to bring Mr. Fisher his supper and then be on my way. The steps to the front porch creaked under my feet. The screen door fell open an inch or two, because the wind smacked it against the frame repeatedly.

Mr. Fisher? The house smelled of mothballs and mildew, due to a leaking roof. As a community, we would have to address these issues, offering Mr. Fisher assistance in this matter. He should not have to live this way. Hello?

Most of the houses in our Gmay were built in a similar fashion, with a staircase by the front door, a parlor to the right, and the kitchen at the back. Seeing the parlor empty, yet filled with stacks of books and newspapers, I strolled through to the kitchen, where I hoped to find Mr. Fisher.

Mr. Fisher? The door here hung open as well, the wind blowing it back and forth. Had he gone to use the privy? I left the food on the table, noting several unwashed dishes. Hello?

On a hunch, I pushed open the door, stepping onto a small porch, which held two old rocking chairs. The garden took up most of the backyard, surrounded by a white fence, which had been newly erected. The outhouse stood down the lane, similar to where most people had dug theirs.

Mr. Fisher!

Perhaps he rested in his bed upstairs, but I would look here first. I wandered down the gravel path, inhaling the fragrance of tomato plants and wild Rhododendron, which grew near a grouping of oaks. There was no sign of Mr. Fisher, and I felt silly for having come all this way. Hastening back to the house, I determined he must be asleep. Hurrying towards the kitchen, I secured the door after I went in, then I strolled through the parlor to the stairs. In the hallway on the second floor, I found his bedroom, knocking softly.

Mr. Fisher? The door hung slightly ajar, and I pushed it inward. I’ve brought you supper. My hand flew to my mouth, because the old man had collapsed upon a faded, braided rug. Oh, dear me! I knelt beside him, hoping he had not passed away, although he looked terribly pale. What happened? I turned him, staring at his weathered face, but his eyes stayed closed. I felt the pulse in his neck, sighing in relief, because there was a heartbeat, but something terrible had happened to him. Can you hear me at all, sir? I shook him gently, but he did not respond. I’ve got to get you help. Scrambling to my feet, I snatched a pillow off the bed, placing it beneath his head. My fingers brushed against a sizable lump. "You’ve hurt yourself. You’ve quite a goose egg. Gracious, what

a

mess

!"

I refrained from panicking, trying desperately to think calmly. I needed to find help, and I would do so immediately. Dashing from the house, I untied Flossy, scrambling into the buggy and taking the reins.

Yaw! Go, girl! We hastened from the property, trundling down the