Читать книгу An Amish Family Christmas - Marta Perry - Страница 14

Chapter Four

Toby felt more than a little out of place when he arrived at the school Monday afternoon for his first stint helping with the Christmas program. Susannah had seemed confident that this would be good for his children, but he couldn’t deny it made him self-conscious to think of trying to build bridges with his children under her gaze.

Well, Susannah wouldn’t be critical of him. That wasn’t in her nature. He’d turned his kinder over to her with complete confidence in her abilities, so the least he could do was follow her advice.

The schoolroom was already humming with activity when he stepped inside, and Toby paused for a moment, hefting his toolbox in one hand, while he tried to make sense of what was going on. One group of children seemed to be reading their parts out loud, while in another corner, some older girls were working on poster-size sheets of paper.

Becky was there, directing a group that was decorating a bulletin board. She gave him a cool nod, making him wonder what she’d said when she’d learned he’d be helping. Nothing complimentary, he imagined.

Susannah greeted him, wearing her usual composed smile. “You’re right on time. I have the materials over here for the big candles, and I thought you and some of the boys might start on those first.”

He nodded, following her to one side of the room where some desks had been pushed out of the way. She’d described what she wanted, and it seemed simple enough, although time-consuming, especially since Susannah expected him to be working with the children instead of doing it himself. Still, that was a typically Amish way of learning—doing a task alongside someone who had already mastered it.

Almost before he had gathered his thoughts, Susannah left him alone with a group of boys that included his son. William wore a wooden expression that suggested he wasn’t sure if he liked having his father here in the schoolroom.

“Suppose you all gather ’round, and I’ll show you what Teacher Susannah wants us to build.” He spread out the drawing he’d made for them. “The candles will be supported by a base and a diagonal, wooden brace on the back, where it won’t show.” He pointed with his pencil, and several of the older boys nodded.

“We’ll be painting them when they’re finished, ain’t so?” One of them, a tall kid with a shock of wheat-colored hair brushing his eyebrows, asked as he leaned over the sketch.

Toby nodded. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before then, so let’s get started.”

To his relief, several of the older boys immediately caught on to what was required. They had obviously done some carpentry before. He was able to set them to work on one candle while he tackled another with the younger ones, and soon the tap of hammers joined in the chorus of children’s voices practicing their lines under Susannah’s direction.

“You started school here at the right time,” he told William. “Putting on the Christmas program is one of most fun things you’ll ever do in the Pine Creek school, ain’t so?”

His son shrugged. “I guess.”

Toby inwardly sighed. If he got discouraged every time William gave him a two-word answer, he’d be done before he started. He had to persevere.

“My daadi says you went to school here with him.” The boy working next to William had a face spattered with freckles and a gap-toothed smile.

Memory stirred. “Is your daadi Paul Broder?”

The kid’s grin widened as he nodded. “I’m Matthew Broder. Do you remember my daad?”

“I sure do. Ask him if he remembers the time we ate the green apples from the apple tree in the schoolyard and were sick all afternoon.”

The memory brought a smile to his face. Paul had often been his partner in crime, as he recalled, but he hadn’t trusted Toby’s judgment quite so much after the green-apple affair.

William made a pretense of ignoring them, but he suspected his son was more interested in the conversation than he let on.

“Teacher Susannah was in school here with us, too,” he said. “Did your daad tell you that?”

Matthew nodded. “Everybody knows that.”

Of course. Everybody knew everything there was to know about people in this isolated community. Funny how he’d once been so eager to leave, when now he just wanted to fit in again.

Holding a crosspiece for the base while his son hammered a nail in, Toby realized he hadn’t felt this content in a long time. It was good to be back in the familiar schoolroom, feeling again the sense of order and purpose that permeated it.

And it was especially satisfying to be working next to his son, watching William’s small hands mimic his actions. This was what they could have had all along, if he hadn’t been stuck working in the factory all day and getting home so late that he hardly saw his kinder.

But he’d known what to expect when he got married. Emma hadn’t made any secret of her feelings. He just hadn’t expected their marriage to turn out the way it had.

By the time Susannah rang the bell signaling the end of the school day, they’d made good progress on the first two candles. He glanced over to catch Susannah’s eye.

“I’ll stick around for a few more minutes to finish up, if that’s okay.”

She nodded, supervising as her scholars lined up to leave, obviously preoccupied with seeing that they had coats, jackets, books, lunch pails and so forth. In a moment the schoolroom had emptied, but Becky lingered, her jacket in her hands and the twins tugging at her skirt.

“I told my mother we’d pick her up right after school,” she was telling Susannah, sounding unduly concerned about something so simple.

“Of course. Go ahead.” Susannah picked up a pencil that had dropped on the floor.

“Are you sure?” Becky paused with a meaningful glance at him.

“Go.” Susannah made a shooing motion with her hands.

Despite her doubts, Becky went out the door with her twins.

Once the door had closed behind them, Toby grinned at Susannah. “Is Becky worried about my reputation or yours?”

A faint color came up in Susannah’s cheeks. “I...neither, I’m sure.”

Her reaction took him aback. Maybe this was more than just a matter of Becky disliking him for jilting Susannah. He thought of what Daad had said about the school board member. Was Susannah’s position really so precarious that she couldn’t be in the schoolroom with a man she’d known all her life? Or was Becky afraid Susannah still had feelings for him? Either way, he’d best be careful.

Anna tugged at Susannah’s apron. “Teacher? Were you really in school with my daadi?”

Apparently Anna’s curiosity had overcome her shyness. He was so relieved he rushed to answer. “She was. And so was the twins’ mother.”

Anna blinked, absorbing this news.

“Your daadi grew up here in Pine Creek,” Susannah explained. “So this was his school. When we were in first grade, like you, I sat here.” She led Anna to the desk she’d occupied in the first row. “And he sat right across from me, where you sit now.”

“Really?” Anna seemed to look at her desk with fresh eyes. “Did you really sit here, Daadi?”

“Teacher Susannah is right as usual,” he said solemnly. “In fact, if no one has sanded it out, my initial might still be under the seat.” Crossing to them, he turned the seat over and showed her. “See?”

Susannah looked at him with amusement in her eyes. She bent to run her fingers over the letters he’d dug with the point of a compass, bringing her face close to his. “I can see I’ll have to have these refinished.”

Her nearness brought a treacherous memory to mind. He’d taken Susannah home from a singing for the first time—Daad had let him take the two-seater buggy. He’d been so determined—and so nervous—to kiss her, it was a wonder he’d ever got up the courage.

He’d stopped the buggy just beyond the glow from her parents’ kitchen window. Turned to her, just able to make out the soft curve of her lips. She’d smiled at him and then, maybe reading his intent in his face, her smile had trembled. Their lips had met—an awkward kiss that carried with it all the sweetness of first love.

Maybe the memory showed in his face too clearly. Susannah’s eyes met his, and they darkened. Her lips trembled, and for a moment, he was transported back to that buggy on a spring night....

The schoolroom door clattered open, and heavy footsteps sounded. Fear flared in Susannah’s eyes.

Moving deliberately, he righted the desk, setting it squarely upright. Then he turned to meet James Keim’s unfriendly scrutiny.

“James Keim, isn’t that right? I’m Tobias Unger.”

“I know who you are.” Keim glanced from Susannah to him. “What are you doing here?”

The question was almost openly hostile.

Anger flared, but before he could speak, Susannah did.

“Toby has two kinder in our school.” Her tone was perfectly cool, and Toby wondered what it took to keep it that way.

Keim’s face settled into a disapproving frown. “It’s after school hours.”

Toby clenched the edge of the desk hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Susannah flashed him a look that spoke volumes.

“We are working on preparations for the Christmas program.” Susannah gestured toward the half-finished candles. “Toby generously volunteered to work with the boys on some carpentry. We always need parents to help.” She looked at Keim expectantly, and Toby had to suppress a smile. Obviously the man didn’t want to help. Just as obviously he didn’t want to admit it.

Keim cleared his throat. “You know how I feel about this program of yours. But I’ll have Mary come help you. It will be more suitable than having the teacher alone in the schoolroom with a man.”

Clutching the desk wasn’t helping as his temper flashed, but he somehow managed to keep it under control. He had hurt Susannah once. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for her now. So he would say nothing, regardless of how much the man annoyed him. There was little he could do to make amends to Susannah, but at least he could do this.

* * *

Several days had passed, and although Susannah was pleased with the effect Toby’s presence had on his children, she still couldn’t entirely dismiss the implication of James Keim’s words. Were other people coming to similar conclusions about her and Toby? She’d hate to think so.

Mary Keim was staying after school to help every day, and Susannah suspected she had orders to report to her father everything that was said. Still, the girl seemed to be responding to the small responsibilities Susannah gave her, and when Mary relaxed, she had a nice way with the children.

Susannah drew her buggy to a halt at the back porch of Becky’s home and tried to dismiss the worries from her mind. It was time for the monthly get-together of the girls who’d been in her rumspringa group, an occasion for eating, talking and much laughter. She knew these girls as well as she knew anyone, and with them, she could relax and be herself. Even the fact that she was teaching many of their children didn’t seem to disrupt their bond.

Giving her buggy horse a final pat, she headed inside, already hearing the buzz of women’s voices, interrupted by laughter. They were all married with children, happy for an evening away from responsibilities, eager to chatter about everything that had happened in Pine Creek since they’d last met.

Susannah paused, her hand on the door. What were the chances they’d heard about Keim’s outrage over finding her working alone in the schoolroom with only a child to chaperone them? She shivered, as if a cold snowflake had landed on her.

With an annoyed shake of her head, Susannah opened the door. She would not let herself start imagining things. She stepped inside and was engulfed in a wave of warmth and welcome.

Over the supper Becky had prepared, the talk stayed general, and Susannah was able to join in the chatter about Christmas plans and holiday baking. She glanced around the table at the smiling faces. The eight of them hadn’t changed all that much since their younger days, had they?

Sara Esch caught her eye. “What are you thinking that makes you smile so, Susannah?”

“Ach, she must be smiling because Toby Unger is back in town.” Silence fell after Sally Ann’s comment. She’d always had a gift for blurting out what other people might think but not say.

“No, I was remembering the day we snuck off and had our picture taken. Sally Ann, you were so nervous you dropped your share of the money three or four times.”

Sally Ann grinned, her good nature never letting her take offense when teased. “I was imagining the bunch of us getting hauled in front of the church to confess. I was sure my parents would have a fit if they found out.”

“It was pretty hard to keep them from finding out.” Rachel Mast commented, sensible as always. “After all, there was the photo.”

It had been a fad for a time among Amish teens to have a professional photo made of their group during rumspringa, before any of them joined the church. The practice was frowned on by the older folks but generally accepted as part of growing up.

“Ach, the boys did far worse than that during their rumspringa,” Becky said. “They were no doubt glad that was all the mischief we got up to.” She rose from the table and moved to the oak cabinet against the wall, opening a drawer. “And here it is. We were a pretty good-looking bunch, ain’t so?” She passed the picture around the table.

“I don’t think we’ve changed all that much,” Susannah said, accepting the picture. She glanced down at the smiling faces.

The photographer had taken the picture of the group in a park, arranging the eight of them in various positions on and around a weathered picnic table. She’d thought it odd at the time, and it was only later that she realized what an artist he had been.

The eight of them looked so much more natural than they would have lined up in a row. She studied their youthful faces. They’d all been eighteen then.

Her gaze was arrested by her own face gravely smiling back at her, and her heart gave an odd thud. She’d said they hadn’t changed much, but the face of the younger Susannah had had a sweetness and an innocence that she wouldn’t find if she looked in the mirror now. She’d been a girl then, looking forward to marriage, secure in Toby’s love. She handed the photo on to the next person, happy not to spend any more time staring at her younger self.

Rachel pushed her empty pie plate away, sighing. “The kinder seem happy to have two new students in the school. Although from what I hear from Simon, young William is a bit of a handful.”

“Just like his daadi was.” Sally Ann grinned. “Remember when he put a whoopie pie on the teacher’s chair and she sat on it?”

The resulting laughter had a slightly nervous edge, as if her friends weren’t sure how she’d react to mentions of her old love.

Well, she had to let them see that it didn’t bother her in the least. “Luckily for me, William hasn’t thought of that trick. I just hope nobody mentions it to him.”

“We won’t tell,” Becky said. “More snitz pie, anyone?” She held the knife poised over yet another dried-apple pie, but she didn’t get any takers.

“So I hear Toby is spending a lot of time at the schoolhouse.” Sally Ann’s blue eyes twinkled, but there was an edge to her voice. Clearly there had been talk.

Well, maybe she could use the Amish grapevine to her advantage. “Toby’s kinder are finding it difficult to adjust to losing their mother and then moving to a new place. I thought it would help them feel more comfortable if their daad was around for a week or so, and helping with the Christmas program seemed a perfect way of doing so.”

There was a general murmur of approval. Good. The reason for Toby’s presence would be passed along, and hopefully, other people would be equally understanding.

“And it gives the two of you time together, too, ain’t so?” Sally Ann was irrepressible. “Take advantage of it, and you might have Toby falling for you all over again.”

Susannah’s smile froze. Several women started up their chatter again, obviously thinking Sally Ann had gone too far this time.

It wasn’t malicious, Susannah knew, glancing at Sally Ann’s ruddy, cheerful face. But it hurt, anyway, and the way her stomach was twisting made her think she shouldn’t have had that last piece of dried-apple pie.

Which was worse—to have people thinking, like Keim, that she was acting improperly? Or to have them assume she was trying to snare Toby into marriage again?