Читать книгу Noah's Sweetheart - Rebecca Kertz - Страница 10

Chapter Two

The aroma of baking bread drew Rachel from the bedroom, which she shared with her cousins Charlotte and Nancy. She had overslept. Last night her sleep had been fraught with memories of the buggy accident that she’d been involved in a year ago, the near accident yesterday...and her unforgettable first encounter with Noah Lapp.

She felt terrible that she hadn’t awakened earlier to help with the chores. Her relatives had been kind enough to provide a place for her; earning her keep was the least she could do.

The delicious smell grew stronger and mingled with the tantalizing scents of pies and biscuits as she descended the stairs and neared the kitchen. The warmth from the oven filled the room, surrounding her as she entered, making her feel instantly at ease, taking away some of the feeling of being far from home.

Charlotte, Nancy and Aunt Mae were gathered around the flour-dusted kitchen table, kneading dough and assembling pies. There was a streak of flour across Nancy’s cheek and a dusting down the front of Charlotte’s apron. Tendrils of hair had escaped from beneath their black kapps and their cheeks were flushed from the heat of the oven, but they didn’t seem to notice or care, so intent were they on the tasks at hand. Nancy looked a lot like her older sister, but her hair was brown whereas Charlotte’s was golden. Both had pretty blue eyes and ready grins.

Aunt Mae looked spotless. She wore a white kapp and her light brown hair in a bun from a center part that was drawn back more severely than Nancy’s and Charlotte’s. But there was a softness about Mae’s expression that told Rachel how much her aunt enjoyed working with her daughters. As the King women worked, they chatted happily, giggling at something Nancy and then Charlotte said.

Rachel felt her heart lighten at their laughter as she approached.

After setting a layer of crust on the bottom of a pie pan, Charlotte looked up and saw her. “Rachel. Gut morning.”

Rachel smiled. “Gut morning. May I help?” she asked.

“You’re up,” Aunt Mae said with satisfaction. “Ja, you can help.”

“You didn’t sleep well,” Charlotte said, her gaze sharp as she studied her cousin.

“I’m sorry I overslept.”

“You needed your rest,” her aunt said. “Would you like breakfast?”

“I’d rather help with the baking.”

Grinning, Charlotte and Nancy made room at the table for Rachel. “Here, Rachel,” Nancy invited. “You can work here.”

Rachel slid between her cousins, grabbed a bowl of dough, and without instruction began to roll and cut out strips to make lattice for a strawberry pie that Charlotte was assembling. Working in the kitchen, she felt instantly at home.

“It’s kind of you to have me.” She smiled at her cousins. “I appreciate your sharing.”

“We don’t mind,” Charlotte said. “We are family.”

“There is plenty of room,” Nancy agreed. “You are comfortable?”

“Ja. The bed is gut. Yesterday it was a long journey from Millersburg to Lancaster.”

“It is a long way. It has been many years since I have visited my brother’s family,” Aunt Mae agreed. “Your driver? He is a gut man?”

“Ja, Aunt Mae, he is from Ohio, too, and has family in Lancaster County. We had to leave early, as his brother-in-law is ill and his sister needed help.”

“Family is important. I am glad you had a driver who understands that.” She glanced at Rachel’s handiwork as she kneaded and rolled out pie dough. “Nice work. Your mudder, if I recall correctly, was a gut cook, but she does not enjoy it in the kitchen much. Who taught you to cook?”

“Grossmudder. She loved to bake and insisted I help whenever it was baking day.” Rachel had enjoyed cooking and baking with her grandmother. Grossmudder had been a perfectionist when it came to her cakes, biscuits and pies, and she had instilled that trait in her eldest granddaughter. And Aunt Mae was right: her mudder did not like to cook, but she took care of her family, as a good wife should. Rachel and her siblings always ate well. But it was Grossmudder who shared her love of cooking and baking with her granddaughter, imparting a sense of understanding that family and good food went hand in hand.

Rachel began to assemble the pie lattice, placing each dough strip carefully over the filling, spacing each evenly in a lovely woven pattern. When she was done, she stood back to eye her handiwork. “Bread, biscuits and pies,” she said with a smile. “Are we having company? Or are these all for family?”

Nancy spoke up. “Nay. We sell baked goods to a new shop in Kitchen Kettle Village. We bring them pies at least once or twice a week. Our pies sell well, and the owner is pleased to have them.”

“The bread, too? It smells delicious.”

Aunt Mae grinned. “The bread is for dinner this evening.”

Rachel grinned with pleasure. “I can almost taste it now.”

An hour later, Rachel had rolled out dough enough for three pies, made a filling for one crust, cut out biscuits and stirred the ingredients of an upside-down chocolate cake into a pan. The smell of all this good food made her stomach growl.

Charlotte chuckled. “I think you should take time for breakfast.”

Her stomach protesting loudly again, Rachel said, “Ja. I think you’re right.”

“Fresh biscuits out of the oven?” Aunt Mae asked.

Rachel’s mouth watered. “Ja. A fresh biscuit sounds gut!”

She ate her biscuit and sipped from her cup of tea.

“Would you like another, Rachel? Or would you like eggs and bacon?”

“Danki, but no, Aunt Mae. It’s too late for more than this.” She rose with plate in hand to wash it in the dish basin.

Aunt Mae left the house to take Uncle Amos something to drink. Rachel’s uncle was working in the fields. The day was again lovely but a little warmer, and Amos would want something to quench his thirst.

As she dried her clean plate, Rachel heard a knock resound loudly on the outside door. She couldn’t see who it was as she put away the dish and hung the dish towel over the drying rack.

“Noah!” she heard Nancy exclaim, and Rachel felt her stomach flutter.

“It’s nice to see you, Noah,” Charlotte said cheerfully. “Would you like a biscuit or piece of pie?”

“I appreciate the offer, but no, Charlotte. After helping Dat early in the fields, I ate a huge breakfast.”

Rachel heard every word spoken between her cousins and Noah Lapp, but she didn’t turn around. With the warmth she felt since Noah’s arrival, she knew her cheeks would be blazing red. Besides, he had come to visit with Charlotte, surely. Although both had behaved in the most appropriate manner in town, it seemed clear to Rachel that Charlotte and Noah were sweet on each other.

“Gut morning, Rachel.” Suddenly Noah was next to her, overwhelming her with his presence. “Are you settling in nicely?”

Forced to meet his regard, she nodded. “Ja. My uncle and his family have made me most welcome.” He smelled and looked nice, she thought as he turned to speak with Nancy. He must have bathed after working in the fields, for his shirt was clean, as were the dark triblend denim pants that he wore. She tried not to notice the way his suspenders fit over his shoulders. He had a firm jaw and a ready smile. His golden-brown eyes sparkled. His sandy-brown hair looked neatly combed beneath his banded straw hat.

She recalled suddenly how he’d looked yesterday after he’d rescued her: tall, thin but strong enough to leap onto the back of a galloping horse and hold on. He had lost his hat during his wild ride when he’d leaned low for the reins. His hair had become tousled and windswept during his efforts to take control of the runaway horse and buggy. She recalled how her heart had hammered and the relief she’d felt when he’d straightened, triumphant.

Watching him now, she felt the back of her neck tingle. What was wrong with her? Abraham Beiler. Noah Lapp. She frowned. Was one man any different from another? She was here as a schoolteacher. She would be content with teaching children other than her own.

Startled by her own thoughts, she glanced to see if anyone was watching her. Her gaze encountered her cousin Nancy, who rewarded her with a little smile.

“Rachel?” Noah’s voice brought her attention back to him.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue.”

“It was my pleasure.” Noah smiled. Rachel looked well and content...and extremely appealing with flour on her nose and a dusting across the front of her apron. It was good to see that she suffered no lasting effects of her frightening experience the previous day.

“Noah!” Aunt Mae exclaimed as she came in from outside. “I thought I saw you from across the yard.”

He reluctantly drew his attention away from Rachel to grin at her aunt. “Gut morning, Aunt Mae. I thought to take Rachel over to see the new schuulhaus.”

“That is a wonderful idea, Noah.” Aunt Mae appeared delighted.

“What do you think, Rachel?” Noah asked. “Would you like to see your new schuul?”

“Noah and his brothers have worked hard to fix it up for you,” Charlotte said.

“That was nice of you, Noah,” Rachel said. “Ja, I would like to see the schuulhaus.”

“It is not far,” Nancy said. “It’s just off our property and down the road a little ways between our land and the farm belonging to Noah’s family.”

“Charlotte,” Aunt Mae said, “you can go with them. Nancy can finish these pies on her own.”

“Are you sure you do not want us to stay and finish?” Rachel asked.

Aunt Mae smiled. “We will be fine. Go and see where you’ll be spending a lot of your time soon.”

Rachel grinned. “I will enjoy this.” To Noah, she said, “I will be with you in a minute. Just let me get cleaned up.”

The relief he felt when she agreed to come made Noah realize just how eager he was to show her the schuul.

Charlotte and Rachel went upstairs to change their aprons and wash their hands and faces of baking dust. Rachel was the first one downstairs and out the door.

When she stepped outside, she noticed the buggy parked in the yard. It was an enclosed family buggy with a gray roof. Seeing it, she sighed with relief. Two mishaps in small open buggies had made her leery of riding in one again. She and Noah were alone, waiting for Charlotte to join them.

She grinned at Noah. “Nice carriage.”

Noah grinned back, pleased by her response. “I thought after that little accident yesterday that you’d prefer riding in this.” Her smile made him feel good inside.

“Danki,” she said.

Charlotte soon appeared, and she climbed into the front seat next to Noah, while Rachel climbed into the back.

“And I hitched old Janey. She’s twenty-five years old and you couldn’t get her out of a trot if you tried.” Noah clicked his tongue, slapped the reins, and the carriage took off down the dirt lane toward the main road.

Rachel sat behind Noah, aware of his straw-brimmed hat, his sandy-brown hair cut in the bowl-cap style that all the Old Order Amish men wore.

Charlotte turned around to smile at her. “I think you will like the schoolhouse. Samuel Lapp and his sons built a new one, large enough for all of the school-aged children in our church district. The Lapp men are good carpenters. Noah is the best, after his vadder.”

“How many brothers do you have, Noah?” Rachel asked.

“Six,” he said with his eyes still on the road. They had come to the end of the lane and he steered the buggy left onto the paved street. “Jedidiah is the eldest, then I am next.” He turned his head to flash her a quick smile before his gaze returned to the road.

“The Samuel Lapps include Samuel’s seven sons and one daughter,” Charlotte said. “Hannah is only six months old.”

“You will meet them all on Sunday,” Noah said. “It’s visiting Sunday, and some of our friends will meet at our family farm.”

The clip-clop of the horse’s hooves was the only sound in the buggy for a time, allowing Rachel to digest what she had learned. Noah pulled the carriage off the blacktop and onto a dirt drive that ran next to a white building with a front porch.

“The schuulhaus,” Charlotte announced.

Charlotte got out on the right side of the vehicle. Noah climbed down and offered his hand to Rachel. “Welcome to your new schuul.”

Conscious of Noah’s relationship with Charlotte, Rachel smiled as she ignored his hand and stepped out of the buggy on her own. She studied the building with excitement. This was her school! Soon, it would be filled with her students!

“It is very nice,” she said sincerely. “The nicest schuulhaus I’ve ever seen.”

Noah looked pleased. “Let’s go inside.”

They heard hammering as they approached. “Jedidiah or Dat is finishing up,” Noah said.

The door swung in easily, and Rachel and Charlotte followed Noah inside. An older man with hammer in hand was bent low over a floorboard. “Dat,” Noah greeted.

“Noah, you have brought our new schoolteacher.”

“Ja, this is Rachel Hostetler,” Noah introduced. “Rachel, my vadder—Samuel Lapp.”

Rachel nodded. “It is nice to meet you. You have done a gut job with this school. I am happy to see it.”

Samuel’s eyes sparkled in a face that was an older version of his son Noah’s, except for the beard that edged his chin. As in Rachel’s Ohio Amish community, married men wore beards along their chins, but not on their upper lips. “Come in. Come in and look about. There is much for you to see.”

The interior of the one-room schoolhouse was white and smelled of fresh paint and newly varnished wood. Someone had been thoughtful enough to hang posters of the alphabet printed on lines like those on primary writing paper. There were also numbers from one to ten. Beside the schoolroom door, there were built-in glass-fronted cabinets. The community or school board had been kind enough to fill the shelves with books.

Noah and Charlotte talked with Samuel while Rachel wandered about, studying her surroundings.

What captured her heart the most were the rows of student desks—five rows of eight, all newly crafted, stained and varnished and ready for use. Her heart gave a little leap as Rachel saw the teacher’s desk at the front of the class. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, made with care. She approached the desk and ran her fingers over the smooth, varnished surface.

“You like the desk?” Noah asked, suddenly beside her.

Rachel had sensed him instantly. She glanced over at him and nodded. “It is a wonderful desk.” Her gaze flashed briefly to the other side of the room and Charlotte, who was grinning at something Noah’s father had said. Her attention returned to Noah standing next to her. “It is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it. I made it.”

“You did?” She was impressed. “You are not only a carpenter but a cabinetmaker as well?”

Noah shrugged, downplaying his enjoyment of creating something wonderful from a few blocks of wood, of running his fingers over the smooth, polished surface as he eyed the finished product. “I like making furniture. My grossdaddi makes wonderful furniture. Many come from miles around to buy his chairs and tables.”

“A fine craft he has—as do you.” She awarded him a smile. “I will enjoy the desk.”

Noah felt a rush of pleasure. He didn’t know what it was about Rachel, but he was feeling things he’d never felt before. He became aware of a sudden desire to confide in her, to tell her about his dream of opening his own furniture shop someday. “Rachel—” he began, but stopped at Charlotte’s approach.

“Do you like the new school?” Charlotte asked.

“Ja. It will be a good place to teach the children.” She eyed the number of desks. “Are there that many children who will attend school?”

Charlotte chuckled. “Not yet, but the bishop wanted to make sure that there would be room for more in the future.”

Rachel felt a sigh of relief. “There are forty desks.”

“Ja, but only thirty-one children,” Charlotte said and then laughed when she saw her cousin’s astonished expression.

“It is a good thing we have the room, then,” Rachel agreed. Thirty-one children! It was going to be an interesting school year, she thought.

“Rachel,” Noah said. “Let us show you where your house will be.”

She turned to Noah’s father. “It is a wonderful schuulhaus, Samuel. I appreciate all that you and your sons have done.”

Samuel graciously accepted Rachel’s thanks. “I will see you on Sunday, Rachel, if not before.”

“Ja,” she said with a nod. “I will see you on Sunday.”

Then she followed Noah and Charlotte outside and they headed farther down the dirt lane in the opposite direction from where they had parked the buggy.