The Nanny's Amish Family (Redemption's Amish Legacies Book 1)

by Patricia Johns

  “I’d like it if you came along for our picnic to the creek. That’s all,” Thomas said, clearing his throat.

  That was all... And maybe whatever had just happened in that moment was just in her imagination.

  How could Patience say no to going with Thomas and Rue to the creek? Because she wanted to go along, too, and somehow some time with this man, even if it was nothing more than friendship, felt like a chance at some fleeting happiness. She smiled hesitantly.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Yah?” A smile turned up his lips. “The shop is closed tomorrow, so... It’s a day off anyway. Come over after breakfast, and we’ll head out to that creek I used to know.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather bring your brother?” she asked. He shared the memories with Thomas, after all.

  “Nah.” A playful grin came back to his face. “I think I prefer you.”

  Was that flirting? She rolled her eyes. “You could bring the whole family.”

  “I could.” Was that confirmation that he would? He didn’t say anything else, but he smiled again teasingly. “Will I see you?”

  “Yah.” Patience nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

  Patience paused, then turned and took a few steps toward the Kauffman property.

  “Are you flirting with me, Thomas?” she asked, turning.

  Thomas turned back and hooked his thumbs into the front of his pants. “What if I were?”

  “I’m not a good one to flirt with, you know,” she said.

  “Then don’t worry about it,” he replied, but that teasing glint hadn’t left his eye, either.

  Patience didn’t have an answer for that, so she hid her smile by turning around and continuing down the road. When she glanced over her shoulder, Thomas was heading back to his drive.

  And what if a man flirted a little? It was nice to be noticed and appreciated. It didn’t have to go any further than that. She’d just have to be careful not to let things go too far. And she could do that—she knew where things stood. She was helping a man bond with his little girl, and that was a good thing.

  Rue needed all the bonding she could get.

  * * *

  As Thomas walked back down the drive toward the house, his mind was spinning. He hadn’t intended to flirt—he knew better than that. Amish courted—they thoughtfully and purposefully moved toward a marital union. They didn’t flirt and fool around. But there was something about Patience that sparked the competitive male inside him, and the ability to make her blush or smile just like that... But he wasn’t looking for romance right now. He was trying to find his balance being a daet, so trying to make her smile—it was inappropriate.

  But there was something about her—something that tugged at him in spite of all the reasons he should be keeping his distance. And he’d almost kissed her. That realization in itself was a surprise, because he hadn’t been thinking of that when he asked her to step behind the lilacs on the street. He’d only been thinking of Mammi, who was likely standing at the front window, watching hopefully for some sign of blooming romance. And knowing Amos, he wouldn’t have been far behind.

  But that instinct to flirt, to draw her eye—that came from a different source. And the last time he’d listened to it, he’d found himself in a relationship with Tina. His instincts led him wrong, and he needed Gott’s guidance if he was going to be the kind of man his daughter could be proud of.

  When he got back to the house, the food was on the table—roast beef and mashed potatoes. It smelled wonderful and his stomach rumbled in response to it. Everyone had started eating. They looked up as Thomas came back inside, and he caught Noah’s knowing glance.

  “Sorry about that,” Thomas said, and he slid into his place next to his daughter. She had the carved rooster sitting next to her plate. He smiled down at Rue as she plunged her fork into a fluffy pile of mashed potatoes, topped with a pool of gravy.

  “So you saw her off, did you?” Amos said in German. He passed a platter of beef down the table toward Thomas.

  “Yah,” Thomas said, accepted the platter and served himself two slices.

  “She’s very pretty,” Mary added. She didn’t look up from her plate, though. She took a bite of meat and chewed deliberately slowly.

  Thomas chuckled. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Us?” Mary said innocently. “She’s a lovely woman. We’re just...pointing it out.”

  “And single,” Amos added with a grin. “We’ve all confirmed that.”

  “She also seems to like you—which is a point in her favor, because look at you,” Noah joked.

  Thomas laughed, and shook his head. “It isn’t what you think.”

  “What are they talking about?” Rue asked, leaning closer.

  “They’re teasing me,” Thomas replied. “They think Patience is pretty, and that I should take more notice of it.”

  Rue frowned slightly. “Oh.”

  Thomas shook his head. “Someone pass me the potatoes, please.”

  But despite his protest to the contrary, he was noticing her. She was beautiful, but even so, in their friendship, he sensed that she was holding back in that regard. Was it the man she’d left behind who still filled her heart? And was that all this was—some petty jealousy over a man he’d never even met? Some male competition? Because that would be disappointing.

  “Can I go back to see the girls again?” Rue asked.

  “No,” Thomas said softly.

  Noah looked up when he said that. “Why not?”

  “It’s nothing,” Thomas said quickly. “I have something else for Rue and me to do tomorrow. We’re going on a picnic.”

  Mary smiled at that. “Good! That sounds fun.”

  “Just the two of you?” Amos asked.

  “Patience is going to come along,” Thomas replied, and he knew how this looked, so he added, “If you all want to come, that would be...very nice.”

  Amos shook his head, his mouth full, and Noah chuckled.

  “Nah,” Noah said. “I’ve got some things to work on here at home.”

  “And I have some sewing of my own to do, dear,” Mary said. “I couldn’t possibly.”

  They were making it so that he’d get time alone with Patience, and he knew it. But at least he’d invited them, even if he was relieved they’d turned him down flat.

  “It will be fun, Rue,” Thomas said. “I’ll take you to a creek I used to play at when I was a boy. You can play in the water and look for tadpoles. We’ll pack a lunch to take along.”

  Rue smiled up at him, and he felt a well of love for his little girl. Some time together—Patience was probably right. What Rue needed was her daet, not a bunch of strangers. She needed family, and if there were to be kinner in her life, maybe they ought to be siblings.

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday morning, Thomas, Noah and Amos went out to do their morning chores—mucking out the stable, bringing hay for the horses, cleaning the chicken coop and gathering eggs. Rue came with them wearing her new-to-her running shoes instead of her pink flip-flops, and she stood to the side obediently when they told her to. There was no wiggling or laughter. She was utterly serious, watching everything they did.

  “Are you trying to learn how to do the chores, little one?” Amos asked her with a smile.

  “I’m being good,” she replied seriously. “And I’m not getting in the way.”

  “Come carry the egg bucket,” Noah said.

  She looked askance at Thomas first.

  “Sure,” he chuckled. “Why not? But don’t hug Toby.”

  “I won’t hug him,” Rue replied. “Not even once.”

  The men chuckled to themselves and carried on with their chores. Thomas was rather impressed with Rue’s improved behavior. Was that because she’d seen some Amish girls who knew what was expected of them?
While there wouldn’t be more visits with the Smokers, maybe that one visit had been enough. Maybe his fatherly instinct had been right, and he felt a wave of gratefulness for one small step that had seemed to work in his favor, after all. Gott surely did work in mysterious ways, and maybe this was one of them.

  When they got back to the house, Amos and Noah sat down with some hot coffee and Mary went off into the sitting room with her Bible. Thomas set about packing their picnic lunch and Rue waited until Thomas was nearly finished before she tugged at his pants.

  “Yes, Rue?” he said.

  “Was I good?” she asked.

  “Yah, very good,” he said. “Get me three napkins out of that drawer there.” He pointed with his socked toe.

  Rue opened the drawer and pulled out three cloth napkins, and he tossed them on top of the food and then closed the basket up. It would be a tasty lunch—roast beef sandwiches, pie, apples, some slices of cheese and a bottle of apple juice.

  “Have I been very good?” she asked, and she fixed him with a direct stare.

  “Yah...” For such a small girl, she was filled with a strange intensity.

  “Can I have my clothes back, then?” Rue asked, her voice shaking just a little.

  “Your clothes.” Her connection to the Englisher world—the clothes all the adults knew had to go. He’d been hoping she’d forget, quite honestly, that after she settled in she wouldn’t even think of her Englisher clothes again and he could quietly dispose of them.

  “Yes. I need them. They’re mine.” Her eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t cry, and she didn’t look down. She stared up at him hopefully. He looked at Amos and Noah. They’d overheard Rue’s request and they stared back at him in silence, offering no hint into what they were thinking.

  “Well...” He swallowed. “You can’t wear them, Rue. You know that, right?”

  She didn’t answer, but her lip trembled. Her face was so pale, but those eyes were filled with a determined fire.

  “They aren’t Amish,” he added gently.

  “They’re mine,” she whispered hoarsely, and the intensity of her gaze nearly choked him.

  Thomas had a choice here—keep the clothes, and possibly destroy them, or give them back. She was only a child and didn’t know what was best for her life yet. And he was her father—it was his job to guide her, whether it made her happy in the moment or not. But that little suitcase of Englisher clothes... He knew what they meant to her, and even if he wanted to erase her Englisher side, it wouldn’t be possible anyway. Nor did he have the right to do it. She’d come into this world because of his relationship with her Englisher mother. And now he was trying to undo it?

  “Rue, I’m going to promise you something,” Thomas said quietly.

  “Okay?” Rue said hopefully.

  “I am not going to do anything to your clothes. They’re safe in my closet right now, and I won’t hurt them or get rid of them. They’re still yours, okay?”

  Maybe that would be enough and given time she’d finally forget about them. Maybe she’d see that the Amish life he offered her was worth more than a suitcase of purple and pink summer wear.

  “Can I have them back now?” Rue pressed earnestly. Her hands were balled up into fists at her side. “I was good. I’m a good girl. Can I have them?”

  The “no” was on the tip of his tongue, and he almost said it, but he couldn’t bring himself to. She wanted those clothes so desperately, her whole body trembling with her desire to have them back, and he couldn’t be the one to keep them from her.

  “Of course you’re a good girl,” he said tenderly.

  She stared at him, mute, and her eyes filled with hopeful agony. He was beaten. He knew it, and when he looked over, Amos and Noah had both dropped their gazes into their coffee cups. They knew it, too, apparently.

  “Yes,” he said, at last. “You can have them back. But you can’t wear them.”

  “Okay...” Rue visibly deflated with relief, and the tears that had welled up in her eyes finally rolled down her cheeks. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Oh, Rue,” he said softly, and he squatted down next to her and gathered her into his arms. She leaned her face into his shirt and her tears soaked into it, wetting his chest beneath. She cried softly with big, shuddering sobs. Had she been carrying that around inside her all this time? Had he been too harsh on her? He rose to his feet, picking up Rue in his arms as he stood. “I’ll give them to you now.”

  He went up the stairs, his daughter in his arms, and he carried her into his bedroom. His bed was neatly made, the floor swept, and his window open just enough to let a breeze inside. He set Rue on the edge of his bed and went to his closet and pulled out the little suitcase.

  Rue jumped down and gathered it up in her small arms.

  “Oh, thank you!” she breathed. “I love my clothes, Daddy. I do! I really love them.”

  And he knew it wasn’t about her clothes so much as her mother. She loved her mother most desperately, and this was her last link to the mother she’d likely forget over the years. She wouldn’t retain many of her memories of Tina, and he was sorry for that.

  “All right, then,” he said, a lump in his throat. “Go put those in your room, and then we’ll go down, okay?”

  Thomas waited for her at the top of the stairs, and when Rue rejoined him, they headed back down, Rue scampering happily on ahead. There was a knock at the door when he got back into the kitchen, and Amos rose to open it.

  As expected, Patience stood on the step, and Thomas felt a wave of relief as she came inside.

  “I think we’re ready to go now,” Thomas said. “Come on, Rue.”

  “I got my clothes back, Patience!” Rue said as they all headed outside. “Because I was good. I was extra good. I didn’t hug anything. Nothing at all!”

  Patience laughed and held out her hand for Rue, and Thomas headed over to the stables to hitch up horses. He felt deflated, exhausted and not entirely sure he’d done the right thing, either with taking her clothes away to begin with, or with giving them back. He’d certainly made an impression on her, but what would she take away from that? That her daet was capable of strange cruelty? That she was required to behave perfectly in order to keep what was rightfully hers?

  Gott, I don’t know how, but I’ve already gone wrong here. I need Your help.

  Within a few minutes, they were in the buggy and headed up the drive to the road.

  “So you gave her back the clothes?” Patience asked in German.

  “Yah,” he replied. “I did. I... It might have been a mistake. I realize that. The elders would tell me so, I’m sure.”

  “But you’re her daet. It’s your call,” Patience replied.

  “It is,” he said grimly.

  “For what it’s worth,” Patience said, “and this coming from a schoolteacher who’s never once taught school, so you can take that into account... I think you did the right thing.”

  “Yah?” He looked over at her, surprised. “I thought I caved in, actually.”

  Patience shrugged. “But you didn’t break her heart.”

  Thomas smiled to himself. Yah, that was true. How fondly would she think of the Amish life if her Amish daet was the one to keep breaking her heart?

  “I do have an idea of what you could do with her Englisher clothes,” Patience said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “You could make a quilt from them,” Patience said. “That way, her clothes would be preserved in an Amish way, and she’d still have those memories of her mamm close by.”

  Thomas nodded. “Yah. That’s a good idea, actually.”

  It was a solution that hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe it took a woman’s touch to get there. He glanced over at Patience and smiled. Did she know how much she did for him, just by being here at his side while he waded through the biggest c
hallenge of his life?

  “What’s a good idea?” Rue asked.

  Had he said that in English? He hadn’t meant to, but there was no harm done.

  “What if we made a very special quilt—that’s a blanket for your bed—out of your old clothes?” Thomas asked. “You see, you’re growing fast, and soon you won’t be able to even squeeze into those clothes. And in the winter, they’ll be too cold. But if you had a quilt, when it’s cold, you could wrap yourself up in it.”

  “Ooh...” Rue smiled. “Yah, I like that.”

  Yah. Had he heard that right? She’d answered like an Amish girl. He looked over Rue’s head to find Patience smiling, too, with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Good, then,” he said, not wanting to draw attention to it. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  * * *

  The creek was set back from the road a little way, shaded by spreading trees. Patience could feel all tension seeping out of her at the tranquil scene—grass rippling in a warm breeze, lush trees, the babble of water that she couldn’t yet see, although she knew the land well enough to know that the line of trees would be along its banks. A swarm of sparrows flapped up like a sheet in the wind farther on down the stream, billowed, then settled again in the trees. Thomas tied up the horses with a long enough line to let them graze, and he carried the basket as well as a worn blanket down toward the water with Rue dancing along ahead of them.

  Patience had been thinking about that tender moment between them at the lilac bushes all evening, and she’d prayed earnestly that God would simply take away whatever it was that seemed to be brewing between them. She prayed for God to provide for Thomas and Rue—to give them the mamm in their family that they needed. She knew that wouldn’t be her, and while the prayer did stick in her throat just a little, she prayed that Thomas’s wife would capture his heart and they’d love each other well.

  It was the kind of prayer that a good woman prayed—at least, that’s what she thought. A good woman should be able to pray a thankful prayer for other people’s blessings, but she still found that it hurt to pray it. Maybe it was some selfish, sinful corner of her heart that wished he could stay single, too, and they’d remain close friends, and she wouldn’t have to watch him move on with another woman.