by Marta Perry
By the time they’d reached the buggy, he was feeling ashamed of the way he’d talked to Dorcas. What was he doing, letting himself fall back into old habits just because he was home again? Dorcas was right—he’d gotten too old for such teasing.
He glanced back, thinking he should apologize, but Dorcas, with a twin on either side of her, had already started down the lane that led toward the Beiler place. Apologies would have to wait until he could get her alone again. Not that she was likely to give him much chance of that. Even in the close-knit Amish community, a girl intent on avoiding a guy could manage to make it happen.
Esther had already clambered onto the buggy seat, so he swung up beside her and grasped the lines. He clucked to the mare, an old friend who’d been half grown when he left, and they started out the lane that led to the main road.
“Who’s running the Beiler place now that Teacher Dorcas’s daad is gone?” he asked.
He’d heard that William Beiler had passed not long after he’d gone out to Ohio. William had been sick most of that last year, now that Thomas came to think of it.
Esther shrugged, not much interested. “Levi and Lemuel, I guess. Mamm could tell you all about it. Thomas, now that you are home, will you teach me how to drive the family buggy? Daad keeps thinking the pony cart is enough for me, but I’m almost fourteen already.”
“I don’t think you can say you’re almost fourteen when your birthday is still six months away,” he said.
Her pointed chin set stubbornly. “I’m big enough. I’ll bet you were driving long before you were my age. Just because I’m a girl . . .”
“A smart girl,” he said. “Too smart to let Mamm hear you say you’ll bet about anything. And I’m too smart to let you get me into trouble with Daad on my second day back.”
Esther pouted for all of thirty seconds, and then her sunny nature reasserted itself. “Will you let me take the harness off when we get home? Please?”
“I will.” He wanted to get the conversation back to Teacher Dorcas if he could. “So how are you doing in school? Only one more year to go after this, ain’t so?”
She nodded. “It seems like forever,” she muttered dramatically.
“It’s not that bad, is it?” He glanced at her, and she blushed.
“I guess not. Teacher Dorcas does make it fun. Everybody likes her.”
“Yah? Including some special guy maybe?”
Esther got the giggles. “Silly. I meant all the kids in school. And Teacher Dorcas doesn’t have a come-calling friend. She’s too old for that, and anyway, she’s a maidal.”
Maidal, he repeated silently. Old maid, in other words. He’d like to point out that she was the same age as he was, but he supposed that to his baby sister, he was old, too.
Well, old or not, he’d like to restore his friendship with Dorcas. But given what a bad start he’d made, that didn’t seem likely.
* * *
—
Dorcas walked steadily toward the lane with the twins, determined not to look back. She tried to concentrate on what was in front of her, not on what had just happened.
You can’t change the past. Her grandmother’s favorite saying came back to her, comforting her. Grossmammi had lived with them while Dorcas was growing up, and she’d been very dear to her granddaughter. Dorcas still missed her more often than she’d have thought.
She smiled down at the boys, one walking on either side of her. Almost at the same moment, each one thrust his hand into hers. Funny how they seemed to know what the other was going to do, even without looking or speaking. Their hands were small, rather sticky, and definitely dirty, but they held hers so trustingly that her heart warmed.
In tribute to the mild spring, Sarah had switched them to their summer straw hats, and beneath the brims their fair hair clung damply to the napes of their necks. It was one of life’s oddities that small boys could look so vulnerable and at the same time be as tough as leather, constantly running and falling and bouncing up again. They made her feel foolishly better, just by walking alongside her.
Not that their mode of progress could really be called walking. Matthew hopped on alternate feet, while Mark was skipping, humming a little tune of his own and stopping frequently to check the growth along the verge.
The lane led through a patch of woods and then ran along pastureland to the Raber place. The boys led her down the well-used path, and the sight of Sarah standing on the porch to greet them reminded her that according to the boys, Sarah had a surprise for her. She trusted the surprise wasn’t that Thomas was back. She’d rather not talk about him, even to Sarah. Why was he back after all this time? Had she imagined that there was a threat in his words or his attitude, or was that her own guilty conscience? A shiver went through her.
Mark, always sensitive to others, looked up. “Are you cold, Teacher Dorcas? You can have my jacket.”
“And mine,” Matthew said quickly, not wanting to be left out.
“Denke, but I’m fine. We’ll be inside in a minute, ain’t so? What do you think your mamm has for your afterschool snack?”
That distracted them, and they raced on toward the house, greeting Sarah with shouts of “Mammi, Mammi,” something she knew Sarah loved. As Dorcas mounted the porch, Sarah looked up from their hugs with a welcoming smile.
“Wilkom, Dorcas. I’m glad the boys remembered to tell you.”
Sarah looked so happy and satisfied with her new role as wife and mother that Dorcas felt a pang of envy. Chasing it away, she hugged her friend. “I got your message. Matty says you have a surprise for me.”
Sarah looked disconcerted for a moment but ushered her into the kitchen. “Tell you in a minute,” she whispered, her voice masked by the exclamations of the boys, who’d discovered a plate of brownies on the table.
“Yah, yah, you can have brownies,” she said to the boys. “I thought you could have a little picnic out on the porch, with brownies and lemonade, while I talk with Teacher Dorcas. All right?”
The picnic idea was enthusiastically received, and in a couple of minutes the boys had been settled out of earshot while Dorcas and Sarah sat down with their coffee and brownies at the kitchen table.
Dorcas took a sip of the hot, strong coffee. “Ah, just what I need after a long day of trying to deal with spring fever among my scholars. So what is this surprise of yours?”
Sarah blushed, smiling. “That was so silly. Matthew overheard us talking, and I had to tell him something. So anyway, I made a batch of snickerdoodles to send to school for a snack tomorrow, and so as far as the boys are concerned, that’s the surprise.”
“And it’s a wonderful gut one.” She could handle the snickerdoodles, as long as the real surprise wasn’t something about Thomas. What Sarah knew about her relationship with Thomas was bad enough, and even she didn’t know everything.
“The secret is something I really wanted to tell you that the kinder don’t know,” Sarah said, and her blush deepened.
Dorcas looked at her blankly, not sure what to say. And then she realized that it was joy filling Sarah’s face, joy that brought the flush to her cheeks and overflowed into a pleasure so deep that Dorcas could almost touch it.
“Sarah!” She nearly knocked over her coffee in her rush to get to her feet and embrace her friend. “Really? I’m so happy for you and Noah. When?”
“Late fall, I think. I haven’t even talked to the midwife yet,” Sarah said, laughing at herself. “But I’m so happy that I had to tell you.”
“Ach, I can’t find the words to say how glad I am for you. I’ll keep it a secret as long as you want. But don’t worry about the boys. They’re going to be delighted to have a little sister or brother.”
It took a few minutes for them to settle down again, but eventually they’d both relaxed and their chatter had returned to a normal level.
“I’m going to lo
ok up the crib quilt pattern my grossmammi loves,” Dorcas said, knowing that the minute she started a baby quilt, speculation would begin among the women as to whose it would be. She hesitated, her thoughts churning up an image of Thomas. “It’s silly, but I actually thought you might want to tell me that Thomas Fisher is back.”
“Thomas? Really? I didn’t know.” Sarah’s surprise was mixed with a tinge of apprehension. “I do hope it will go well with his daad. Thomas wasn’t a bad boy, just a little wild, like lots of teenagers are.”
“Including me, you mean,” Dorcas added, managing a smile.
“Well, you did have me worried for a time,” Sarah admitted, “especially when you went to some of those Englisch parties. Thank the gut Lord you didn’t go to the one the police raided, or you might have been arrested, like Thomas.”
All Dorcas could do was to try to mask her feelings. Everyone knew that Thomas’s arrest had been the last straw as far as his father was concerned. As soon as his fine had been paid, Thomas had disappeared from the community, sent off to relatives in disgrace.
So how did Thomas feel about her now? She had gotten away, thanks to him. He had suffered for what happened, while for the Englisch kids it had been nothing but an embarrassing incident. And Dorcas hadn’t suffered at all.
He had never told, she reminded herself. If he hadn’t talked in all these years, he certain sure wouldn’t talk now.
CHAPTER TWO
By the time Dorcas reached home, her mother was starting to set the table for supper. She took the plates firmly from her mother’s hands.
“I’ll do that. Where’s Betsy?” Thinking that might sound critical of her sister-in-law, she hurried on. “She usually does the table when you’re cooking.”
“She’s feeding young Will.” Her mother’s face glowed as it always did when she spoke of her first grandchild, just two months old and named for his grandfather. “He smiled when I talked to him today. I think he knows me.”
“Of course he knows his grossmammi.” She gave her mother a quick hug, knowing she’d joyfully do Betsy’s work for her anytime in return for pulling Mamm out of the depression that had gripped her off and on since Daad’s passing.
“I do think so.” Mamm checked on the pot roast she had cooking on the back of the stove. “Such a bright little boppli.”
Even with the distraction caused by her first grandchild, Mammi still looked twenty years older than she should. She had aged so much during Daad’s long illness, and even more so after his passing.
At least spring was here at last. Mammi always perked up with the warmer days, maybe because she didn’t get out much in the winter.
Dorcas shook off those thoughts while firmly blocking any tendency to dwell on her encounter with Thomas. The less said about that, the better, as far as she was concerned.
“I see the lettuce is coming up in the kitchen garden,” she said, hoping to bring the smile back to her mother’s face. Instead Mammi looked worried. “I hope I didn’t plant it too soon. We could still get a frost. Maybe I should have waited. What do you think?”
Mammi had been given to having second thoughts about every little decision since Daadi’s death, and her children had to reassure her constantly.
“I think it’s worth planting early, even if we do get a frost. If the worst happens, I’ll plant it again for you. And maybe we’ll have it to eat earlier than anyone else. Think of that.”
Mamm did smile at the suggestion, and a moment later Betsy came in from upstairs, distracting her entirely. “How is that sweet boy? He’s getting bigger every day, ain’t so?”
Betsy beamed with the praise for her son, looking as proud, Lemuel always said, as a peacock with two tails. But he never said that when his brother could hear him, of course. Levi was an equally proud daadi.
Dorcas finished the table. “Can I go up to see him? I won’t disturb him.”
“Oh, I’d rather you didn’t.” Betsy shook her head as if Dorcas had asked the impossible. “If he’s disturbed, he won’t get off to sleep again.”
Fussy, Dorcas thought. As if I didn’t know enough not to disturb him. But at a glance from her mother, she smiled. “Later, then.”
“We’re about ready,” Mamm said. “Betsy, will you ring the bell?”
While her sister-in-law pulled the bell out on the back porch to call the boys to supper, Dorcas helped her mother to dish up. Once supper was over and the dishes done, she could escape to her room with the excuse that she had schoolwork to do.
And then she’d finally have the privacy to think about what had happened between her and Thomas. Privacy was not easily come by in a busy Amish household; that was certain sure.
In a few minutes, they were gathered around the table and silent prayers offered. Then the serving dishes began clattering around the table.
Betsy glanced at Levi. “What was happening in town today?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
Dorcas could have told her that this was Levi’s characteristic reply to any question. He had never been much of a talker. But Betsy was clearly not going to put up with that from her husband.
“You must have talked to someone.” There was an edge to her voice that made Levi look up, startled, and Dorcas exchanged an amused look with her mother. Levi might have married the one woman who wouldn’t let him get away with silence.
“I went to the harness shop, so I talked to Jacob Miller. He’s doing fine.” He hesitated, obviously trying to think of some other news to impart. “Oh, and he told me that Thomas Fisher is back home from Ohio.” He glanced at Dorcas, a question on his face, and then seemed to decide not to ask it.
She didn’t really have a choice, did she? The news that Thomas had visited the school today was probably spreading over the valley already.
“Yah, I saw him. He came to pick up Esther from school today. She’s wonderful happy to have her big bruder back.”
“That’s nice,” Mamm said. “Just think how happy his mother must be. She was telling me how well he’s been doing working with her brother in his construction business.”
Levi and Lemuel murmured agreement, although whether they agreed or just wanted to make Mamm happy, she didn’t know. Maybe they were wondering, as she was, how glad the minister was to have his erring son home again.
“He was a special friend of yours, wasn’t he, Dorcas?” Betsy looked at her with open curiosity.
“Just ordinary rumspringa stuff,” she said easily, feeling as if Mamm had let out a sigh of relief at her response.
But Betsy wasn’t finished yet. “From everything I heard, you had a narrow escape.”
Silence fell, and everyone stared at her. Betsy, oblivious, looked up and suddenly realized she’d said something wrong.
“I mean . . . I mean . . . well, that you might have . . .” She sputtered off into silence.
“Have some more roast,” Levi said, thrusting the platter at her.
Dorcas had been sure that someone would bring up her friendship with Thomas sooner or later, but she hadn’t expected it to be right in her own family. Well, it was done. The chatter would go flying around the community and everyone would be buzzing, but then it would die out or be replaced with something else. She just had to keep her head.
“I heard that someone is buying the old Hanley place,” Lemuel said, providing a distraction. “Maybe you’d best warn your scholars not to go getting in the way when the new folks are moving in.”
“Englisch newcomers?” she asked.
He nodded. “Not from around here, so I heard. An older man was in the hardware store when Jacob was there, so Jacob heard him talking about moving in soon.”
“It’ll be nice to have someone in the house again.”
Since the property in question bordered the school grounds, Dorcas had an interest in it. Maybe it would be good for her to call on
the new people, since her scholars were likely to walk along the edge of their property in order to stay off the road. She wouldn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with newcomers.
“Gut idea,” Lemuel said. He hesitated, and it seemed to Dorcas that he had something more to say.
Dorcas raised her eyebrows, looking at him. “What? Would you rather do it, since you’re on the school board?”
It wasn’t usual to have an unmarried man on the school board, but Lemuel had been pushed in due to a dearth of other candidates and the fact that their daad had been a member for years.
“No, no, you’ll do it best,” he said quickly. But he’d paused, looking as if he had still more to say and didn’t know how to do it. That was unusual for Lemuel, who unlike Levi, could talk to anyone, anywhere, on just about anything. She gave him a closer look.
“Okay, out with it. What’s wrong?”
Everyone was looking at him now, and Lemuel shrugged, unhappy.
“Well, the fact is, there’s been some talk. Not on the school board, I don’t mean that, but just a couple of folks mentioning it to board members.” His words petered out.
“And?” She frowned at him. “Tell me, whatever it is. If it’s something about the school, I should know.”
He grimaced. “I don’t want you to get upset.”
“I’ll get really upset if you don’t tell me,” she pointed out, exasperated.
“Well, the thing is, some folks are saying we should give up the Orchard Hill school and combine with the Oak Creek Amish school.” He blurted it out on a single breath, and then he fell silent, looking at her like a puppy who’d got into the garbage.
Nobody spoke for a moment, and then there was a chorus of voices, all talking at once. Dorcas made herself heard.
