The Amish Teacher's Gift Page 11

  Mamm stirred the eggs and poured them into the frying pan. The liquid hitting the sizzling butter hissed and spit. “I was worried about that, so I spoke to Betty.”

  The bishop’s wife? But she had two children who needed her time and attention. Maybe she knew of someone who could care for Nathan, though.

  “Betty suggested Martha. She said her daughter’s quite good with special children. You’ll need to ask Ada if Martha can stay in the schoolhouse for the afternoon. Betty wouldn’t be able to transport him to her house. Not if he’s acting up.”

  Josiah nodded. Martha had calmed Nathan yesterday. She might be able to handle him, but Josiah worried about her being in the schoolhouse alone. What would happen if she couldn’t control one of his temper fits?

  Mamm’s timer ticked down and rang. She turned off the heat under the canning jars with one hand while lifting the skillet from the heat with the other. “Ready for some eggs?” she asked.

  Josiah wasn’t sure he wanted breakfast quite this early, but it had been a long night. “Sounds good.”

  He waited until Mamm had reset the timer and taken her place at the table. Then they both bowed in prayer. After they raised their heads, he expressed his concerns about Martha being alone with Nathan.

  Mamm chewed for a minute before answering. After she swallowed, she said, “Why don’t you ask Betty to stay with Martha?”

  “Maybe I’ll do that,” Josiah said. He forked a bite of fluffy scrambled eggs into his mouth. Part of him wished he could ask Ada, but that wouldn’t be fair. She had seven siblings to care for. If Betty stayed, between them, they should be able to handle Nathan. He’d seen Lukas acting out before, so they should know what to do. What would they do if both boys acted out at the same time? The whole idea left him uneasy.

  Mamm finished her last bite of egg and stood. “I have to go in earlier than usual. They have two catering jobs today, so they’ll need extra desserts. Could you take out the tomatoes when the timer rings?” She pointed to the kettle on the stove. “The towels are on the counter. And the jar lifter is beside the stove.”

  Once Josiah nodded, she hurried to the door. “I’ll be praying for Nathan,” she said over her shoulder before she left.

  Her words did little to soothe the tossing and turning of his stomach whenever he thought of leaving Nathan with Martha. There was a time when he would have left it all to God’s will, but since Ruth’s illness, he’d been struggling with his faith. Why had God allowed such a sweet person to suffer and die? Could such a God be trusted to answer prayers? All those times he’d begged God for Ruth’s health, she’d only gotten worse. The last few months she’d gone downhill rapidly despite his continual pleas.

  The timer dinged, bringing him back to the kitchen and his present-day responsibilities. He lifted the canning jars filled with tomatoes from the water and set them on the clean towels Mamm had laid on the counter. The jars lining the counter reminded him of Ada’s kitchen, except instead of two rows, she’d had two countertops full. He couldn’t even imagine how much work it must be cooking and canning and cleaning and caring for seven younger siblings.

  Sadie’s words came back to him. Ada had also taken on the financial responsibility for everyone. Yet he’d never heard her complain, not even when the kitchen was covered in flour. He’d known her such a short time, but his admiration grew each time he was around her. Josiah mentally shook himself.

  Mamm didn’t usually run out the door without cleaning up after breakfast, but with Nathan waking them in the middle of the night and her having extra responsibilities at the restaurant all week, her forgetfulness was understandable. Josiah picked up the plates and carried them to the sink. As soon as he plunged his hands into the dishwater, cleaning up at Ada’s earlier popped into his mind. Was everything he did going to remind him of her in some way?

  He tried to concentrate on Mary Elizabeth’s face, his talk with her. He hoped she’d be brave today. If he still believed in the power of prayer, he’d pray for her. Instead, he washed the plates, dried them, and put them away. Thinking about God and unanswered prayers took him to a place of darkness and despair. A place he tried to avoid at all costs.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ada struggled to get out of bed in the morning. After being awakened in the middle of the night, she’d had difficulty falling back asleep because pictures of Josiah kept running through her mind. She dragged herself downstairs to start breakfast.

  Mary Elizabeth beat everyone else to the kitchen. Ada hoped Josiah’s talk with her the night before had made an impact, but her sister ran over and hugged her legs, her eyes overflowing with tears.

  Ada ignored the tears and said, “I’m glad you’re here early. I can use help with breakfast. Why don’t you drag a chair over, so you can stir the oatmeal?”

  Her lower lip thrust out, Mary Elizabeth let go of Ada’s skirt and folded her arms.

  “You said you want to spend time with me,” Ada reminded her. “Now you can.”

  Mary Elizabeth’s sideways glance revealed her doubt, but her sister climbed on a chair and started stirring vigorously.

  Ada smiled at her enthusiasm.

  By the time Sadie came downstairs, the oatmeal was almost ready, and Hannah had set the bowls on the table. Sadie raised her eyebrows when she spotted Mary Elizabeth on the chair, but a swift smile crossed her lips. Ada directed Ruby to get the milk and Grace to bring the maple syrup and applesauce to mix into the oatmeal.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Sadie demanded.

  “Why don’t you call David and Noah for breakfast?”

  “That’s all?”

  Ada smiled at her. “Did you want more chores?”

  Sadie shook her head and backed away. Her belligerence of last night seemed to have lessened.

  When everyone sat down to breakfast, Ada’s gaze kept straying to the chair at the opposite end of the table where Josiah had sat last night. Today the chair seemed emptier than usual. Over the past few months, she’d come to accept that Daed would never be able to fill that space again; yet Josiah, so vital and alive, sitting in his place revived old wounds and ever-present guilt.

  When he fit into that seat—and their family—so smoothly yesterday, his presence stirred other longings. Ones, she reminded herself, Josiah could not fill. Ada dreamed of marrying, of sharing a table with a husband and children of her own. But she had no one to court, no one to marry, no one to share her life.

  Because Mamm had been so sickly, Ada had had no chance to attend singings or court like others in her buddy bunch. Then after the recent situation with Daed, she’d become the subject of gossip in their community. Ada had come to accept that no respectable man would be interested in dating someone with a reputation like hers. Once Josiah heard the story, he’d condemn her too. Besides, with seven siblings to raise, she had no chance of fulfilling those dreams.

  Count the blessings you already have. She had her siblings and work to do. Ada forced herself to look away from the chair and concentrate on breakfast. As soon as the meal and kitchen cleanup ended, she rushed upstairs to grab the word cards she’d made last night. When she passed the girls’ bedroom, Sadie stood in the doorway, hands on hips.

  “Come on, Mary Elizabeth, it’s time to go. If you don’t hurry, we’re going to be late.”

  Mary Elizabeth stood in her room, her fingers curled, growling.

  Sadie blew out an exasperated breath. “What are you doing?”

  “Practicing being brave.”

  Sadie huffed. “I guess that’s better than crying.”

  Mary Elizabeth looked up, hurt in her eyes, and Ada hastened to intervene before the tears started. “Josiah gave you that idea last night, didn’t he?”

  When her sister nodded, Ada motioned to Sadie to follow her to the other bedroom.

  Sadie’s face revealed her displeasure. “We’re going to be late for school.”

  “It won’t take long.” Ada ushered Sadie into her room and shut the door. “First
, I want to say I know it’s not fair how much responsibility you’ve had to take on while I’ve been preparing to teach. We need to talk about dividing the chores more evenly too, but we can talk about that tonight.”

  Some of Sadie’s defiance faded, but she tapped her foot impatiently.

  “I know Mary Elizabeth is a trial for you, but try to be gentle with her. Losing Mamm has been hard on her, and she’s not used to being separated from me.”

  “She isn’t the only one who’s missing Mamm,” Sadie burst out. “Mamm wasn’t here yesterday for our first day of school. No one asked about my day.” Tears trickled down Sadie’s cheeks.

  Ada held out her arms, and Sadie rushed into them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” Ada had been so busy with her own problems and concerns, she hadn’t considered how hard the first day of school would be for Sadie and the others. She hadn’t asked them how their day went, although with Sadie’s and Rebecca’s descriptions of the crying, they wouldn’t have had much to report. Still, she should have asked.

  Between sobs, Sadie choked out, “I always ran into Mamm’s room as soon as I got home from school. No matter how sick she was, she’d be propped up in bed waiting for me.” Sadie drew in a shuddery breath. “I ran in there yesterday without thinking, and…and…”

  Ada tightened her hug. She’d hoped to get to the schoolhouse early to set things out this morning, but comforting her sister was more important. She patted Sadie’s back.

  “The room felt so empty. Daed’s not there now. And you’re always so busy getting things ready for school, you don’t have time for us.”

  “Ach, Sadie, I’m so sorry.” Ada blinked back tears. Ever since the bishop had asked her to take over the special school, it had consumed her time and energy. She worried about not being good enough to teach her scholars, so she read and studied, planned materials, and fretted about how to deal with the students. In the process, she’d neglected her siblings.

  Sadie pulled back, her lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I know you have a lot to do. And I know you love us.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Sadie gave her a quick, hard hug. “We need to leave.” She rubbed at the wetness on her cheeks. “Rebecca’s going to think we’re a family of crybabies.”

  As her sister hurried from the room, Ada said, “About Mary Elizabeth. Josiah told her last night to think about Esther and Daniel being brave. I think she was being a lion.”

  Sadie snickered. “I wish she’d be Esther instead. It would be quieter.” Before Ada could say anything, she waved a hand in the air. “I know. I’ll try to be nice.”

  “Thank you,” Ada called after her. Taking a deep breath, Ada searched on the desk for the cards she’d made, but some were missing. Finally, she found them on the floor under the dresser. She must have scattered them last night when she threw on her cape.

  By the time she got downstairs, the others had left for their school in the pony cart. David sat patiently waiting for her with a pair of shoes on his lap. Ada signed for him to put them on as she rushed past him to hook up the buggy. When she pulled out front, David came out of the house with the shoes still in his hand. She started to scold him only to realize he had on shoes. She pointed to the pair in his hand and signed a question mark.

  Nathan’s, he replied.

  Oh, right. Josiah had taken him home in the quilt. He must have left the shoes behind.

  She was grateful to pull into the school yard; the day would prove a distraction from thoughts of Josiah. She wished, though, that she’d arrived earlier. With only ten minutes until school started, two buggies were already waiting. The one parked at the far corner of the playground belonged to Josiah. The bishop’s wife descended from the other, followed by Martha.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Betty said as she crossed the yard. “Lukas has an appointment at the clinic this morning, but I didn’t want to leave Martha here alone.”

  “I’m sorry I’m late. We had a small crisis this morning.”

  “Mary Elizabeth?” Betty’s tight smile added to Ada’s guilt. “I understand she had some difficulties yesterday.”

  Ada couldn’t tell if Betty’s tone was sarcastic or rushed. “Yes, she did. I believe we’ve dealt with the problem with some help—” She broke off abruptly before she added from Josiah. No need to start gossip that might damage his reputation.

  Josiah crossed the parking lot. “I had a question before I leave,” he said to Ada. Then turning to Betty, he said, “Thank you so much for agreeing to help with Nathan. I hope he won’t be too much trouble.”

  “I’m sure Martha and I can handle it.” Betty headed off with a quick wave.

  Ada turned toward him. “Help with Nathan?”

  “That’s what I need to talk to you about,” Josiah said.

  “Let me unlock the doors first.” Ada beckoned to Martha, who was still standing in the spot where her mamm’s buggy had been parked.

  Martha limped over, smiling. “I can’t wait,” she said in her throaty monotone. “It will be a good day.”

  Ada’s spirits lifted at Martha’s cheerful attitude. She appreciated having an assistant who brought joy into the classroom.

  Josiah waited until they entered the building, then he turned to Martha, making sure she could see his lips. “Thank you for watching Nathan today.”

  Martha’s smile broadened. “It will be fun.”

  At Ada’s confused expression, Josiah explained about his mother’s work schedule and her plan to have Martha and Betty stay at the schoolhouse in the afternoon to watch Nathan.

  “Of course. If you’d like, I’d be happy to watch him the rest of the week.” Ada was a little hurt he hadn’t asked her. Nathan had been happy at their house yesterday, and she’d been able to calm his crying last night.

  “You have so many other things to do. Besides, we imposed on you too much yesterday.”

  “It was a joy”—Ada stumbled to a stop—“um, to have Nathan. David enjoyed his company and…” Now she was prattling to cover up her slip. “I’m sure David would be thrilled to have Nathan spend the afternoons this week.”

  Ada glanced around. “Speaking of David, where is he?” He hadn’t followed them into the schoolhouse. “I’d better check on him.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s probably playing outside.” Though Josiah’s voice sounded comforting, a quiver of concern underlay his words.

  After yesterday’s missing children incidents, they both remained a bit edgy. And lack of sleep didn’t help. Even though everyone eventually turned up safe, it was hard to shake the nervousness.

  When they got to the door, the playground was empty. So was Ada’s buggy.

  “Oh, no!” Josiah sprinted across the playground. The door to his buggy was hanging open. “I checked that door twice before I left,” he said over his shoulder.

  Three more buggies were coming up the driveway, but Ada kept pace with him. Had the boys taken off together? Or had Nathan taken off and David followed him?

  Josiah reached his buggy slightly ahead of her and screeched to a stop. He held up a hand and backed away. “They’re all right,” he whispered. “David’s helping Nathan put on his shoes. Why don’t you peek in without letting them see you?”

  Ada leaned forward so she could see. Her brother was twisting a shoe onto Nathan’s foot. Nathan had his eyes scrunched up while pushing down. Ada couldn’t help smiling. David’s movements were making it impossible for Nathan to put his foot in the shoe.

  She caught David’s eye and mouthed, Need help?

  David nodded and let go of the shoe. When it dropped, Nathan’s eyes popped open, and David gestured toward the door. Cringing, Nathan glanced over his shoulder. His apprehensive look relaxed as soon as he saw her. Ada held out her arms, and he came to her. After motioning for David to carry the shoes, she picked up Nathan, who scooped his terrycloth rabbit from the seat and clung to her.

  To her surprise, Josiah was no longer behind her. In f
act, she didn’t see him anywhere, but with the other children and their parents heading into the school, she had no time to look. Nathan squirmed to get out of her arms, so she set him on the ground. After Ada helped him with his shoes, Nathan walked between her and David into the school building. Quite a difference from his arrival the day before.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Josiah stayed hidden on the other side of the buggy until Nathan’s back was turned. As his son entered the schoolhouse, Josiah’s heart ached. If things had been different, Ruth would be walking him to the door. Maybe the three of them would have walked hand in hand together. Why, God, why? It wasn’t fair that Nathan had no mother. No matter how many times he repeated the assurance he’d heard since he was a child—whatever happened was God’s will—his heart refused to accept it.

  What hurt even more was Nathan’s happiness around Ada. To see his son act lovingly and cooperatively with someone else, someone he’d known for only a few days, cut him deeply. Perhaps Nathan clung to Ada because he missed his mamm. But why does he fight me? What have I done to make him react this way?

  If only he could ask for Ada’s help in dealing with the tantrums and learning sign language, but he needed to spend less time around her, not more. Having his son push him away tore Josiah apart inside. Gloomy thoughts persisted as he headed to the job site. He was grateful Silver knew the way because he could barely keep his eyes open. The three a.m. trip across town with no sleep afterward and his early morning tussles with Nathan had shattered his peace of mind.

  Josiah hitched Silver to a post some distance from the worksite and sleepwalked toward the house the construction company was building. He was roofing today, so he needed to stay awake and alert. He jerked himself awake several times, but the rest of the time his mind wandered.

  “What’s the matter with you, Yoder?” the foreman yelled up at him. Ralph paced around below him. He pointed to the small area of roofing Josiah had finished. “Your mind’s not on the job today.”

  No, it wasn’t. It was at the schoolhouse, wondering how troublesome Nathan was being, worrying if Martha and Betty would be able to handle his son this afternoon, wondering if he should have taken Ada up on her offer to watch Nathan. Josiah shook his head to dislodge this morning’s picture of her tight golden blond twists disappearing under each side of her kapp, her sparkling blue eyes…Of yesterday with flour on her cheeks…Of the moonlight on her face last night…Of his last glimpse of her with her braid drifting down her back, her feet bare, the sheer white gown floating around her ankles…