took a step toward him in disbelief and propped both hands on her hips. “How can you say that? He works for you. He’s your hired man.”
“I did not hire Carl. He works here because he wishes to do so. He lives in an empty hut on my property. He pays no rent, so I am neither landlord nor employer.”
“You mean he works for nothing?”
Folding his paper in exasperation, he said, “Each year, when the lambs are sold, I leave one third of my profits here on the kitchen table, and I go to bed. In the morning, the money is always gone.”
“So you do pay him?”
“I have never asked if he’s the one who takes the money.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you think that is splitting hairs?”
“No doubt some people will say it is.”
“Aren’t you worried that you may be shunned for his continued presence here?”
He leaned back in his chair. “What would you have me do?”
“You must tell him that unless he repents, he must leave. What has he done to make all your church avoid him?”
“I have no idea.”
“But all members of the church must agree to the shunning. How can you not know the reason? It is not a thing that is done lightly or in secret.”
“In all my years, I have seen it done only a handful of times. It was very sad and distressful for those involved. Carl is not from around here. He has not been shunned by my congregation. I would not have known he was anything but an Englisch fellow in need of a meal and a bed if he hadn’t told me. It seems to me that he holds our beliefs in high regard.”
“Then for him to remain separated from the church is doubly wrong, and all the more reason to send him away.”
Her grandfather let his chair down and leaned forward with his hands clasped on the table. “Child, why do we shun someone?”
“Because they have broken their vows to God and to the church by refusing to follow the Ordnung.”
“You have missed the meaning of my question. What is the purpose of shunning an individual?”
“To make them see the error of their ways.”
“That is true, but you have not mentioned the most important part. It is not to punish them. Shunning is done out of love for that person so that they may see what it is to be cut off from God and God’s family by their sin. It is a difficult thing to do, to care for someone and yet turn away from them.”
“But if they don’t repent, we must turn away so that we do not share in that sin.”
“If I give aid to a sinner, does that make me one?”
“Of course not. We are commanded to care for those in need, be they family or stranger.”
“As the Good Samaritan did in the parable told by our Lord.”
She could see where his questions were leading. “Ja, if you have given aid to Carl, that is as it should be.”
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you approve. The first time I met Carl, I discovered him sleeping in my barn. It had rained like mad in the night. His clothes were ragged and damp. They hung on his thin frame like a scarecrow’s outfit. Everything he owned in the world he was wearing or had rolled up in a pack he was using as a pillow, except for a skinny puppy that lay beside him.
“Carl immediately got up, apologized for trespassing and said he was leaving. I offered him a meal. He declined, but said he would be grateful if I could spare something for the dog.”
Lizzie’s heart twisted with pity for Carl. To be homeless and alone was no easy thing. “I assume you fed the dog?”
“I told Carl I had a little bacon I could fry up for the pup. I coaxed them both into the house and fried enough for all of us. I put a plate on the floor and that little Duncan gobbled it up before I got my hand out of the way. Bacon is still his favorite food. When I put two plates on the table was when Carl told me he could not eat with me.”
“At least he was honest about it.”
“If you had seen the look in that young man’s eyes, you would know, as I do, that he cares deeply about our faith. He was starving, but he was willing to forgo food in order to keep me from unknowingly breaking the laws of our church.”
“Yet, he never told you why he had been placed in the Bann?”
“Nee, he has not, and I do not ask. I told him I had an empty hut he could use for as long as he wanted. His dog took naturally to working the sheep and so did Carl. He has a tender heart for animals.”
“What you did was a great kindness, Daadi, but Carl no longer requires physical aid.”
“True. The man is neither hungry nor homeless, but his great wound is not yet healed. That’s why I have not turned him away.”
She scowled. “I saw no evidence of an injury.”
Her grandfather shook his head sadly. “Then you have not looked into his eyes as I have done. Carl has a grave wound inside. Something in his past lies heavy on his mind and on his heart. My instincts tell me he will find his way back to God and to our faith when he has had time to heal. Then there will be great rejoicing in heaven and on earth.”
Maybe she came by her daydreaming naturally, after all. “If it happens.”
Her grandfather sighed, rose from his chair and headed toward his bedroom. Before he closed the door, he turned back to her. “It will happen. It’s a shame you won’t be here to see it when it does.”
Chapter Four
He wouldn’t go up to the house today.
Carl stood in the doorway of his one-room hut and stared at the smoke rising from Joe’s chimney a quarter of a mile away. The chimney was all he could see of the house, for the barn sat between it and his abode.
It hadn’t taken Carl long to decide that avoiding Lizzie would be his best course of action. It was clear how uncomfortable his presence made her last night. He didn’t want her to endure more of the same.
Her presence made him uncomfortable, too.
She made him think about all he had lost the right to know. A home, a wife, the simple pleasure of sitting at a table with someone.
No, he wouldn’t go up to the house, but he knew she was there.
Was she making breakfast? If it was half as good as supper had been, it would be delicious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such light and fluffy biscuits.
Even for another biscuit, he wouldn’t go up the hill.
He could make do with a slice of stale bread and cheese from his own tiny kitchen. He didn’t need biscuits. He didn’t even need coffee.
And he sure didn’t need to see her again.
Lizzie Barkman’s pretty face was etched in his mind like a carving in stone. All he had to do was close his eyes, and he could see her as clearly as if she were standing in front of him.
He hadn’t slept well, but when he dozed, it was her face he saw in his dreams and not the usual faces from his nightmares.
In his dream last night, Lizzie had been smiling at him, beckoning him from a doorway to come inside a warm, snug house. He wanted to go in, but his feet had been frozen to the ground as snow swirled around him. Sometimes, the snow grew so thick it hid her face, but as soon as it cleared a little, she was still there waiting for him—a wonderful, warm vision in a cold, lonely world.
Carl shook his head to dispel the memory. No, he wouldn’t go up to the house