Faking Faith by Josie Bloss Page B

you posted pictures of! And I’m sure Mama would let us do some of the
homeschooling for the little ones. They’re excited to have a new teacher for a change! And we’re hosting a Ladies’ Bible Study Luncheon in a few days, and you’ll be the guest of honor, if that’s okay with you!”
    I looked over at her, trying not to let my face quaver at the gauntlet of highly failable tests laid out before me. “That sounds wonderful, Abigail! Whatever you have planned is fine. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
    She grinned at me, scrunching up her nose. “Oh, how could you be any trouble, Faith? You’re a blessing!”
    I smiled back at her, feeling a strange twist in my chest. No one had ever said something like that to me that I could remember. Certainly not recently.
    We pulled into the long gravel driveway of the farm, and Abigail pointed out where they set up their road stand when they had extra produce to sell. We drove through a few acres of fenced grazing land, scenically dotted by grazing cows and sheep. Abigail recited their names and told me which animal belonged to which of her siblings.
    “You can help me take care of my cow, Maybelle, while you’re here! We can get up in the morning together!” she said, bouncing a little in her seat. “Just so you feel like part of the family! Oh, how fun!”
    Just as I started to panic about the possibility of having to act like I knew how to milk a cow, Asher snorted. It was the first noise he’d made the whole trip.
    “What?” said Abigail, looking at him. “Did I say something wrong?”
    “She’s a … she’s a guest, Abi,” Asher said. “Do you really think she wants to worry about milking a cow?”
    I couldn’t have been more grateful to him.
    Abigail looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Faith. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine. I just thought that because you wanted to be part of things … ”
    I glanced at her with an encouraging smile. There was something about Abigail that made me dread disappointing her. She seemed so young and vulnerable, able to be tipped over with the wrong words or a harsh look.
    “Can we maybe just see how it goes?” I asked. “First, I’d really love to just watch and see how you all manage things.”
    She brightened. “Of course! That’s a great idea!”
    We pulled around in front of the house, which was so ridiculously idyllic I almost gasped.
    “Welcome to Shady Acres!” Abigail said. “Our home sweet home.”
    We got out of the truck and I tried not to gawk too openly. It was a lovely old farmhouse on a small hill, painted pristine white with black shutters. There was a wrap-around porch with a swing and Adirondack chairs, and a large grassy front yard. Beyond the house stood a bright red barn and some fenced-in pens, and I could see parts of a huge, lush garden. Cows mooed in the distance and a rooster crowed.
    I thought that maybe I had arrived in some country heaven.
    “Um, wow,” I said quietly, forgetting myself. “Your house is so beautiful.”
    “Thanks!” Abigail said, beaming at me. “Daddy renovated it himself when I was just a baby. Isn’t he talented?”
    A girl holding a baby appeared in the doorway and looked at us, and a general clamor went up within the house. There was the sound of calling and running feet, and children spilled out onto the front porch in quick succession. Four tow-headed boys wearing crisp khakis and polo shirts and two girls in summery calico dresses, the older one holding the baby, crowded together and stared at me.
    Again the feeling struck that I was on a movie set. Or on an alien planet.
    Abigail hooked her arm in mine and dragged me up to the front steps to the porch.
    “They dressed up for you. We don’t get many new visitors,” she whispered in my ear. “They might be even more excited than I am that you’re here!”
    “Oh … well, that’s nice,” I said, fumbling for words as I looked at all their small faces. What the hell did I know about