The Amish Teacher's Gift Read online

  Was that a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes? He hesitated, but she waved him off. When one of the little girls emerged from the closet with rags and a broom, he backed up to let her pass.

  “Let me help you with the cleanup,” Josiah said.

  “No, I’m a big believer in encouraging children to clean up their own messes,” Ada said as Sadie started sweeping the flour into a pile, stirring up puffs of white powder.

  Remembering all of the messes he’d cleaned up after Nathan fell asleep at night, Josiah squirmed. He hadn’t been teaching his son about responsibility. Though if he were honest, he had no idea how to get Nathan to cooperate, something his teacher seemed to have accomplished in a short time. Unless, of course, this was only the calm before a major storm. For her sake, he hoped not.

  Chapter Ten

  Ada was relieved when Josiah finally left, although part of her still wished he had stayed. But she would rather he’d seen her looking neat and clean, with the kitchen presentable. She had an hour to restore everything to order and erase his negative impression of her and the house. Mentally, she scolded herself for caring what Josiah thought. She should have no interest in his opinion, except as it related to teaching his son.

  Ada led Mary Elizabeth to the back door. “Be sure everything is spotless,” Ada warned her other sisters.

  Her jaw set, Sadie said, “You told Josiah children are supposed to learn responsibility. If that is so, what about her?” She pointed to Mary Elizabeth. “She’s the one who made the mess by dropping the flour canister after I told her to leave it alone.”

  “Sometimes we all need to work together,” Ada replied.

  “Fine.” Sadie swept so hard the broom sent plumes of white billowing into the air.

  “Sadie,” Ada snapped. “Doesn’t God want us to help others?”

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said, her eyes brimming with tears.

  Ada wanted to hug her sister, but she and Mary Elizabeth were much too floury. “It’s been a hard day for you, hasn’t it?”

  Sadie blinked back her tears, but spoke through gritted teeth. “We didn’t get any lessons at school today, everyone teased me because I had a crybaby sister, I couldn’t play with my friends at recess because of her. I had to drive the pony cart to your school because of her. Now I have extra chores because of her.”

  Ada sighed. Putting it that way, it didn’t sound at all fair. “Would it help to know that Mary Elizabeth will be scrubbing and drying the floor when you’re done? And washing all the countertops?”

  Mary Elizabeth’s eyes rounded, and she started to protest, but Ada silenced her with a stern glare.

  “I guess,” Sadie muttered, though she sounded far from mollified.

  Ada herded Mary Elizabeth out the back door and shut it behind her. After leading her sister out to the grass, she took off Mary Elizabeth’s kerchief and flapped it in the wind while her sister shook out her skirt. Fine white powder settled everywhere.

  Mary Elizabeth giggled. “Noah was right. It does look like snow.”

  “Yes, we could use a little snow right now.” The late afternoon sun still beat down and, combined with the high humidity, the day was uncomfortably hot. Ada stepped some distance away from Mary Elizabeth and shook her own skirt and apron, and then used her sister’s kerchief to dust herself off.

  Mary Elizabeth’s giggles turned to belly laughs when Ada knelt to brush off her sister. “You have flour all over your face,” Mary Elizabeth choked out between laughs.

  “I do? All over, or just a few dabs?”

  “Neh, it’s everywhere.” Mary Elizabeth took the kerchief and wiped Ada’s cheeks and forehead.

  How humiliating! She’d been talking to Josiah like that. He’d probably been snickering to himself the whole time.

  Her embarrassment made her scrub a little harder than necessary at Mary Elizabeth’s face and clothes. “We won’t get all the flour out of the fabric.” She sighed. If the other girls had flour on their clothes, it would add one more load to the wash. “You know,” Ada said to her sister, “I think you should also do the extra load of laundry.”

  Mary Elizabeth’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out.

  “I started doing laundry when I was six,” Ada told her. Mamm had been sickly for several years before Sadie was born, which accounted for the large age gap between them. After each baby, their mother lost more strength. Ada shook off the memories of those years of drowning in chores, of all the responsibilities of caring for baby after baby, of raising her siblings, and of filling in as a parent. Heavy responsibilities she still carried, although her siblings were now old enough to help with some of the burdens.

  Mary Elizabeth was still gaping at her.

  “Sadie and Hannah both wash clothes. There’s no reason you can’t do it. You just have to remember the most important rule: Keep your fingers away from the wringer.”

  “I can’t do that.” Mary Elizabeth’s voice rose in a whine.

  “You can and you will,” Ada said in a firm voice. They’d all been babying Mary Elizabeth, not expecting much from her because she was the youngest girl and so overly emotional since Mamm’s death. David was a year younger, and no one coddled him. David helped Noah with all the outdoor chores without complaint. No wonder Sadie felt resentful. They were all grieving, but the rest of the family still managed to do whatever needed to be done.

  “Ouch!” Mary Elizabeth wriggled away. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Sorry,” Ada said automatically, her mind busy planning how to implement the changes. She turned her sister around to brush off her back, but tried to be gentler. First, she had to let Mary Elizabeth know they’d be making changes and then find a way to ease her into it. “Now that I’m teaching, you’ll need to help out more.”

  “I don’t want you to teach.” Mary Elizabeth’s voice quavered. “I miss you.”

  “I know. I miss you too, but I have a job to do.” Ada finished brushing off the back of her sister’s dress and then took her hand to take her back inside. “And your job is to go to school.” Although her behavior at school was another issue they needed to address, Ada was too exhausted to tussle over that now. She’d postpone it until after dinner. “Let’s see if they’ve cleaned up the kitchen.”

  Most of the dust had been cleared by the time they returned, so Ada helped Mary Elizabeth fill the scrub bucket and set her to washing the floor. Then Ada hurried to her room to change into a fresh dress and apron. Her conscience whispered that changing clothes was hochmut, that it was vanity to impress Josiah. And a sin to be attracted to a married man. She attempted to quiet the still, small voice with the excuse she only wanted to look presentable, to make a good impression on the parent of one of her pupils. But no matter how she tried to justify it, deep inside she was aware of her duplicity.

  * * *

  As he was doing his errands, Josiah mulled over Nathan’s behavior around Ada and David. Perhaps he’d been wrong to isolate his son, but he feared subjecting others to Nathan’s outbursts. Seeing Nathan calm and interacting with others started an ache deep inside. How long had it been since he’d seen his son quiet, his face serene instead of twisted into a scowl or a screech? Even seeing him with his eyes open was startling; Nathan’s eyes were normally squinched shut, his fists in tight balls, his mouth either pinched shut or shrieking.

  After Ruth died, he’d been hard to handle. But since they’d arrived in Lancaster, his tantrums had increased. Mamm struggled with Nathan’s crying; he pushed her away whenever she tried to comfort him. But he seemed to save his full-blown flare-ups for Josiah, which hurt deeply.

  But what wounded him even more was the way Nathan had edged away from him this afternoon. Something was going on with his son, but he had no idea what. Even worse, he had no way of finding out when the two of them couldn’t communicate.

  Ada seemed to have bridged that gap in one short morning. If Josiah were honest with himself, he’d experienced a twinge of jealousy w
hen she cuddled Nathan on her lap. His son hadn’t kicked or shoved her away.

  He mentally tried to forget that image by reviewing the list of items he needed at the hardware store, but nails and grout provided little distraction. Ada’s tender expression, her gentleness, her…Stop, Josiah. With great effort, he pictured the repairs he needed to do in his mother’s kitchen. Creating a checklist in his mind, he numbered and recorded each purchase. By the time he pulled into the hardware store parking lot and tied Silver to the hitching post, he’d almost—not quite, but almost—succeeded in banishing the images of Ada holding Josiah, of Ada covered with flour, of Ada’s soft voice as she said good-bye.

  By the time he finished his errands and made his way through rush hour traffic, several hours had passed. As he sprinted toward the front door, the older boy he’d seen in the kitchen opened the barn door and stepped out.

  “Hello,” he called. “Are you here for Nathan?”

  Josiah nodded. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “David doesn’t mind. He likes having a friend to play with.” The boy headed his way and stuck out his hand. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Noah.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Josiah shook his hand. “I hope Nathan hasn’t been any trouble.”

  “Not that I know of,” Noah said as they crossed the lawn to the front door. “Although I was out in the barn doing the milking.”

  Josiah breathed a sigh of relief. If Nathan had one of his fits, Noah would have heard him even in the barn.

  Noah walked with him to the front door. “Go ahead in. Everyone’s in the kitchen. I have a few more chores to do before dinner.”

  “Thanks.” Josiah hesitated on the doorstep. Entering the house of someone he barely knew made him nervous, but not as nervous as what he’d find inside. The only blessing was that he heard no noise. Josiah forced himself to turn the knob and ease the door open.

  The first thing that hit him was the sense of peace in the entryway. Quiet voices came from the kitchen, and the tang of tomatoes, onions, and cooking meat drew him forward and made his mouth water. He crossed through the living room and stopped near the kitchen doorway, unable to believe the transformation. Except for several countertops filled with rows of gleaming glass jars of tomatoes, the room was spotless. Ada had changed into a clean dress and a black work apron. She was angled away from him, so he could barely see her profile, but she looked breathtaking.

  His stomach growled as she bent to check the meatloaf in the oven. He and Nathan would be headed home to heat up chicken corn soup, followed by an evening of temper tantrums. What would it be like to eat dinner in this haven of peace?

  Off to his left, Nathan had his back to the doorway, so Josiah could observe him without being spotted. His son and David were setting the table. David pointed to a fork and then signed something Josiah assumed was fork—two fingers in an upside-down “V,” bouncing on his palm. Nathan attempted the sign, his hands clumsy. They moved to the next place, set down a fork, and David repeated the sign. This time Nathan’s movements appeared to be closer to David’s. With misty eyes, Josiah copied David’s sign.

  He stayed in the doorway, breathing in the homey smells, focusing on his son, who was intently watching David’s every move. He studiously avoided staring at Ada. David repeated his instructions as he placed a knife at each place, and Josiah imitated the signs along with his son. Although he wasn’t sure how the words fork and knife would help him, Josiah wanted to take whatever opportunity he could to communicate with Nathan.

  When the boys rounded the table to place silverware on the other side, Josiah stepped back so Nathan couldn’t see him. He’d never seen his son this content or interested. At least not since he was young and his mamm was still healthy. Josiah didn’t want to do anything to disturb this tranquility.

  In front of him, with their backs to him, Ada and Sadie were bustling from the sink to the stove. Mary Elizabeth turned, juggling a wobbly pile of plates. The top plate teetered, and Josiah dove forward, catching it before it could hit the floor. Then he put a hand on the stack to prevent the rest from falling and was rewarded by Mary Elizabeth’s relieved smile.

  “Steady there.” Josiah tapped the plates into a neatly nested stack.

  At the sound of his voice, Ada and Sadie whirled around.

  Ada pressed a hand against her chest. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Noah told me to come in.”

  “Of course, of course. You’re more than welcome.” She fanned her face, flushed with the heat of cooking.

  “I should have let you know I was here, but I was busy watching the boys.” Josiah motioned to the other side of the room, where David and Nathan were so intent on their teaching and learning they hadn’t noticed his arrival.

  “David is enjoying showing Nathan some signs. He was doing that upstairs earlier.” She beamed at him before turning her attention back to the boys.

  Ada’s smile took his breath away. To keep his attention off her, Josiah studied the large garden outside the kitchen window behind her. Plump green tomatoes blushed with red hung heavy on the branches. His mamm had a tiny garden out back, but his heart ached for the small plot in Ohio that he’d plowed before Ruth got ill. She’d loved working in the garden, but they’d had so little time together.

  When Ruth learned she had cancer, he’d supported her decision to go to Mexico, where treatment was less expensive and more options were available. The loneliness of those years without her and Nathan, followed by her final months at home and the past nine months without her…

  “Are you all right?” Ada’s soft voice drew him back to the kitchen.

  “What?” The swift move from past to present dazed him. “I’ll be fine.” I hope. Perhaps, though, grief never ended. With Ada staring at him, he fumbled for an explanation. “Your garden is lovely. It reminded me of my—my”—his throat spasmed—“wife’s.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Oh.” A frisson of disappointment shot through Ada, a disappointment she quickly doused. Guilt over her attraction soured her stomach. You already knew he was married. You have no right thinking about him like that.

  To conceal her feelings, Ada headed toward the boys. Catching David’s eye, she signed, Daed here, and pointed to Nathan. Her brother’s face fell, and he signed to say he wanted his friend to stay. Nathan studied the two of them while Ada told David to ask Nathan’s daed. At the word daed, Nathan’s frown of concentration changed to a scowl.

  Ada was positive Nathan knew the word, yet each time he saw the sign, he had an odd reaction.

  Nathan followed David’s lead and turned around. He glanced toward the doorway, and his eyes widened. With a cry, he dodged behind Ada, grabbing a handful of her apron with one hand. She put an arm around him and gave him a brief hug. With so little sign language, this must be his way of saying he wanted to stay longer.

  She turned to Josiah and shrugged. “I guess he’s not quite ready to leave. And David’s begging to have him stay. Maybe he could join us for dinner?”

  “I think we’ve imposed on you for too long already.”

  Because Nathan could not express himself in words, Ada had to interpret his body language. With the way he was clutching her, he seemed desperate to stay, and her brother was staring at her with pleading eyes.

  “I think he’d really like to stay, and we’d love to have him for dinner.” When Josiah started to shake his head, she blurted out, “You’re welcome to stay for dinner too.” Then she wished she could cover her mouth. What was she thinking? “I’m sorry. I’m sure you have dinner waiting for you at home.” And a wife, Ada.

  “Not tonight. It’ll only be the two of us. We’re heading home to heat up some soup.” Josiah gave her a dazzling smile. “All the more reason for us to get going, but thank you for your kind offer.”

  “If you’re only having soup, why not stay? We have plenty to share, and the boys could have a little more ti
me together.”

  “I don’t think…”

  “Please? Or at least let Nathan stay? I could drive him home after dinner.”

  Josiah shook his head. “I couldn’t let you do that. Who would watch the children while you’re gone?”

  Ada gestured toward her sister who was draining the potatoes. “Sadie can see that they all get ready for bed.”

  The pot Sadie was holding clattered onto the counter, and her sister turned, arms across her chest. She didn’t say a word, only pinched her lips shut and fixed Ada with a resentful glare.

  Ada was taken aback. Sadie had always been helpful. She and Ada shared most of the housework, and Sadie always cared for her younger siblings without complaint. Yet twice today she’d been defiant. Ada had no idea what was wrong, but they’d need to have a talk tonight. After her talk with Mary Elizabeth…and after dinner, cleanup, baths, and bedtime stories.

  Tiredness swept over Ada. Once all that was done, she still had lesson plans to do. Now that she’d met her scholars, she’d need to work out some tasks based on their abilities. And she wanted to read more about ways to handle the crying and acting out.…

  “Ada, are you all right?” Josiah started toward her. “You’ve had a long day and must be exhausted.”

  “I’m fine.” Except the kindness in his eyes was making her weak. She concentrated on the small boy beside her. As his father approached, his body tensed as if he were about to scream. With one quick movement, Ada knelt and wrapped her arms around him. Humming had worked that morning, so she tried it again. His clenched fists relaxed, and some of the rigidness drained from his body. When he seemed calmer, she pulled back a bit so she could sign the word go followed by a question mark. Nathan’s head whipped back and forth in a definite no.

  Josiah stopped suddenly, his eyes on his son. “He answered your question.” He sounded disbelieving. “I’ve never seen him answer a question before, not since…” He shook his head and said in a voice clogged with tears, “If it’s all right for him to stay—?”